A meeting was summoned at the earliest opportunity to take the momentous matter into consideration.
“What I say,” said Bramble, “is, it’s a jolly good job!”
“What’s a jolly good job?” demanded Stephen, who, of course, was red-hot for the Fifth.
“Why, chucking them out! I’m glad to see it, ain’t you, Padger?”
“They didn’t chuck them out!” roared Paul; “they went and sneaked to the Doctor, that’s what they did!”
“I don’t care! I say it’s a jolly good job! Those who say it’s a jolly good job hold up—”
“Shut up your row!” cried Stephen; “you’re always sticking yourself up. I say it’s a beastly shame, and I hope the Fifth will let them know it!”
“You’re a young idiot, that’s what you are!” exclaimed Bramble in a rage. “What business have you got at the meeting? Turn him out!”
“I’ll turn you out!” replied the undaunted Stephen; “I’ve as much right here as you have. So there!”
“Turn him out, can’t you?” roared Bramble. “Bah! who goes and swills ginger-beer down in a public-house in the town, eh?”