"But why not?"
Collins had seen Charley's Aunt in the holidays. "Ah, why?" was his laconic answer.
Trundle foamed with wrath. He snatched a cane from under his desk and advanced on Collins. The prospective victim leapt back and pointed at him with theatrical calm: "Look, he is coming at me with cane in hand. Ha! he comes! he comes! see how he comes."
Trundle launched a fierce blow at Collins, and only narrowly missed Benson's eyes. Collins delivered a short lecture on the danger of losing one's temper. Trundle returned to his desk.
As the term went on the ragging became more elaborate. At first the set was content with giving a sort of low comedian, knockabout performance. But they soon wearied of such things. After all, they were real artistes. And Archie Fletcher could not bear being ordinary. But still there was a good deal of sport to be got out of quite common place manœuvres. The introduction of electric snuff, for instance, may not be very original; but it was remarkably successful.
Trundle had a habit of leaving his mark-book in his desk, and Lovelace had a key that fitted it. The rest was simple. During evening hall Hunter and Lovelace got leave to fetch a book from their class-room. There was no one about. In five minutes Trundle's mark-book was filled with snuff. Next morning the set assembled. Forbes was asleep, Benson was furtively looking up a word in his dictionary, the School House contingent was uncommonly quiet.
"Well," said Trundle, "who shall we start off with this morning? Let me see, ah!" he opened his mark-book.
The roar of laughter was heard the other side of the court. For a full three minutes Trundle was utterly, gorgeously prostrate with coughing and sneezing.
Mansell was very sympathetic.
"Have you a cold, sir? I hope it's nothing serious, sir. I find the east wind a little trying myself. Do you ever use Fletcher's cough lozenges? Very efficacious, sir," he babbled on.