The young gentlemen in question were not far away busily engaged in their joint study, with Wally’s assistance, in getting up a stock of impositions, which should serve as a common fund on which to draw daring the term.
The idea was D’Arcy’s.
“You see,” he had said, “we’re bound to catch it, some of as, and it’s a jolly fag having to do the lines just when they’re wanted. My notion is, if we just keep a little stock by us, it’ll be awfully handy. Why, suppose young Ashby were to get fifty lines at morning school next Saturday, what about his chance of getting into the 58th fifteen?”
“It’s the 6th fifteen, not the 58th,” said Ashby.
“Well, there’s not much difference.”
“It would be jolly awkward,” said Ashby.
“Yes; and you always do get potted just when it is jolliest awkward,” said D’Arcy. “That’s why it’s such a tip to have your impots written before you get them. Penny wise, pound foolish, you know.”
It was not at all clear what this valuable aphorism had to do with the subject in hand, but it impressed the two new boys considerably.
“And just fancy,” continued Wally, driving home his chum’s nails with considerable industry, “just fancy if young Fisher was to have to sit up here swotting over lines, just when his brother wants his vote in Hall on Friday! Why, one vote will make all the difference.”
Fisher immediately called for pens, ink, and paper, which Wally and D’Arcy promptly supplied for him and Ashby, and a scene of unparalleled industry ensued. Even D’Arcy insisted on doing his share, which consisted of drawing niggers in various stages of public execution, labelled with the names of Clapperton, Dangle, and Brinkman, while Wally generally superintended and assisted, by playing fives against the wall.