length and breadth of my covers. _In loco parentis_ ye are? Well,
I've not forgotten my Latin either, an' I'll say to you:
'_Quis custodiet ipsos custodes_.' If the masters trespass, how can we
blame the boys?"

"But if I could speak to you privately," said Prout.

"I'll have nothing private with you! Ye can be as private as ye please
on the other side o' that gate an'--I wish ye a very good afternoon."

A second time the gate clanged. They waited till Colonel Dabney had
returned to the house, and fell into one another's arms, crowing for
breath.

"Oh, my Soul! Oh, my King! Oh, my Heffy! Oh, my Foxy! Zeal, all zeal,
Mr. Simple." Stalky wiped his eyes. "Oh! Oh I Oh!--'I _did_ boil the
exciseman!' We must get out of this or we'll be late for tea."

"Ge--Ge--get the badger and make little Hartopp happy. Ma--ma--make
'em all happy," sobbed McTurk, groping for the door and kicking the
prostrate Beetle before him.

They found the beast in an evil-smelling box, left two half-crowns for
payment, and staggered home. Only the badger grunted most marvelous like
Colonel Dabney, and they dropped him twice or thrice with shrieks of
helpless laughter. They were but imperfectly recovered when Foxy met
them by the Fives Court with word that they were to go up to their
dormitory and wait till sent for.

"Well, take this box to Mr. Hartopp's rooms, then. We've done something
for the Natural History Society, at any rate," said Beetle.

"'Fraid that won't save you, young gen'elmen," Foxy answered, in an
awful voice. He was sorely ruffled in his mind.

"All sereno, Foxibus." Stalky had reached the extreme stage of hiccups.
"We--we'll never desert you, Foxy. Hounds choppin' foxes in cover is
more a proof of vice, ain't it?... No, you're right. I'm--I'm not quite
well."

"They've gone a bit too far this time," Foxy thought to himself. "Very
far gone, _I'd_ say, excep' there was no smell of liquor. An' yet it
isn't like 'em--somehow. King and Prout they 'ad their dressin'-down
same as me. That's one comfort."

"Now, we must pull up," said Stalky, rising from the bed on which he had
thrown himself. "We're injured innocence--as usual. We don't know what
we've been sent up here for, do we?"

"No explanation. Deprived of tea. Public disgrace before the house,"
said McTurk, whose eyes were running over. "It's dam' serious."

"Well, hold on, till King loses his temper," said Beetle. "He's a
libelous old rip, an' he'll be in a ravin' p