“And when it came, sir, to them having such a fuss made over them about their riding the elephant, and you asking them afterwards to dinner, it was bound to come.”
The boy stopped, and the Doctor turned to the classical master.
“Do you hear this, Mr Rampson?” he said, in his most sarcastic manner, the one he adopted towards the most stupidly ignorant boys. “I presume then that I ought to ask Mr Thomas Slegge’s permission before asking the two new pupils to my board.”
“Yes, sir,” burst out Burney, who had gathered breath and had now got into the swing of speaking. “It was bound to come, sir. Slegge said he should do it, and I can’t help it if I do seem like a sneak for telling all.”
“Go on, Burney,” said the Doctor. “I’ll be the judge of that.”
“Well, sir, he told all us seniors to be ready for the first chance there was. He said—”
“Who said?” interrupted the Doctor. “Let us be perfectly correct.”
“Slegge, sir. He said we were to be ready, for he was going to begin by giving the nigger fits.”
“By giving the nigger fits?” said the Doctor slowly. “And, pray, what did he mean by that?”
“Licking Singh, sir; the new boy from India, sir.”