So when he arrived, there it was staring at him; and it was so exceedingly well printed that he could not possibly tell who had done it.
There is a young sneaker called Fowle
Who ought to be made to howl,
For the things that Browne knows,
Which you would not suppose,
All come from that blighter called Fowle.
I wanted to rub it out before Browne came, but of course the chaps wouldn't let me.
Browne read this carefully and took such a long time looking at it, that Steggles said he was learning it by heart. Then he picked up the duster and slowly rubbed it out. He made no remark whatever, and for the time being the score rather missed fire on Browne. But it didn't miss fire on me, because the next day, when I was passing his study, Browne called me in and asked me about it. He said—
"Who wrote that piece of impertinence on the blackboard yesterday?"
And I said—
"Macmullen invented it, sir, and Travers printed it up; but I don't know who told them there was a sort of understanding between us."
Then Browne was greatly enraged and said—
"How dare you say there is any understanding between us, Fowle? Such impertinence I never heard! What do I know about you and your affairs, excepting that you are deservedly a very unpopular boy! And I'll thank you not to bring any more of your mean tales to me. A tale-bearer is an odious thing; so remember; no more sneaking, or it will be very much the worse for you!"
I was so astonished that I couldn't do anything but stare.