h," he cried, "filth and garbage; take it away and put it down the
water-closet." He had a genius for spontaneous comments. Kennedy was
very nervous; and whenever he said his rep. he used to hold the seat of
his trousers.

"Man, man!" Macdonald shouted out, "you won't be able to draw any
inspiration from your stern."

His form would be in a continuous roar of laughter all day long; and
when particularly pleased it always rubbed its feet on the floor, a
strange custom that had lasted many years. Claremont's form-room was
situated just above him, and he could often hardly hear himself speak.
He used to complain bitterly.

"How I wish my jovial colleague down below would keep his form a little
more in order."

But Macdonald got his revenge one day when Claremont was reciting
Macbeth's final speech fortissimo to his form.

"Hush!" said Macdonald. "We must listen to this." Suddenly he chuckled
to himself: "And do you think he really imagines he is doing any good to
his form by giving that nigger minstrel entertainment up there?"

The roar of laughter that followed quite spoilt the effect of the
recitation. Work became quite impossible in V.B.

It was about this time that the House began to interest itself in the
welfare of Rudd. Rudd was the senior scholar of the year before, and he
looked like it. He was fairly tall and very thin. His legs bore little
relation to the rest of his body. They fell into place. He was of a
dusky countenance, partly because he was of Byzantine origin, partly
because he never shaved, chiefly because he did not wash. His clothes
always looked as if they had been rolled up into a bundle and used for
dormitory football. Perhaps they had. Rudd was not really a bad fellow.
He was by way of being a wit. One day the Chief had set the form a
three-hour Divinity paper, consisting of four longish questions. One
was: "Do you consider that the teaching of Socrates was in some respects
more truly Christian than that of St Paul?" Rudd showed up a whole sheet
with one word on it: "Yes." Next day his Sixth Form privileges were
taken away. But the House took little notice of his academic audacities.
Rudd did not wash; he was an insanitary nuisance; moreover, he did not
play footer.

"That man Rudd is a disgrace to the House," Archie announced one evening
after tea; "he's useless to the House; he slacks at rugger and is
unclean. Let's ship his study." There was a buzz of assent. There was a
good deal of r