uskett and Corderoy from Selkirk's house, and a few of the "paupers,"
dropped in. As the faggery would only conveniently hold six persons,
and as at least twenty were present, it was considered advisable to
adjourn to the shoe-room, where, in the dim light of a small candle,
several particularly revolutionary motions were discussed, the company
sitting on the floor for the purpose.

The meeting opened by my calling on Langrish to read the minutes, which
he accordingly did.

"The inaugural picnic of the Ph.C.C. was held the other day. Present,
all the usual lot and seven paupers. The president had chartered the
_Sarah_ and _Firefly_, two of the vilest crocks at Jorrocks's."

"He said they were the best they had got," I explained.

"Shut up, or you'll be kicked out, young Sarah."

"I've a right to speak."

"No, you haven't--unless you hold your tongue."

"If I held my tongue, I couldn't possibly speak," I explained.

"Turn him out!" cried the paupers. Whereat I subsided.

"The paupers," continued the minutes, "had beastly little go in them,
and ought to have had a meal of hay before starting (interruption), and
will be badly kicked if they don't shut up. The _Firefly_ had the best
of the race up." (Here there were most indignant protests from the crew
of the gallant _Sarah_; and the question was argued out with some energy
on the floor of the shoe-room before Langrish could proceed.)

"Nature was dressed in her most pristine colours, and the incandescent
hues of the autumn leaves brought cries of enjoyment out of the mouths
of the Ph.C.C, except the paupers, whose mouths were too full for
utterance."

This paragraph was not likely to pass unchallenged. Coxhead impeached
its grammar, Trimble its taste, and the paupers its accuracy, and a very
heated argument ensued, at the end of which it was agreed to let the
door stand open a few minutes to get rid of the dust.

"Arrived at Camp Hill, a flock of jibbering apes were discovered, headed
by the president's arch-enemy. Brown iii."

"No, he's not my enemy," protested I. "I never said so."

"The minutes say so. They're more likely to be right than you."

"But I like Dicky Brown," said I.

"That sounds like poetry," said Warminster, "ho, ho!

"I like Dicky Brown,
His cheek is so cool,
And if I don't kick him
You call me a fool."

"I can do that whether you kick him or not," said I, quite unmoved by
this brilliant impromptu.

Here I was