“Nonsense! you are not going to get it out in that shape?”
“I am, though. Look here, you fellows,” said Anthony, “I’ll show you the dodge of the thing. The different articles will either be copied or pasted into this big sheet. You see each of these columns is just the width of a sheet of school paper. Well, here’s a margin all round—do you twig?—so that when the whole thing’s made up it’ll be ready for framing.”
“Framing!” exclaimed Greenfield and his friend.
“To be sure. I’m getting a big frame, with glass, made for it, with the title of the paper in big letters painted on the wood. So the way we shall publish it will be to hang it outside our class-room, and then every one can come and read it who likes—much better than passing it round to one fellow at a time.”
“Upon my word, Tony, it’s a capital notion,” exclaimed Wraysford, clapping the lame boy on the back; “it does you credit, my boy.”
“Don’t mention it,” said Tony; “and don’t whack me like that again, or I’ll refuse to insert your ‘Diary of the Sixth Form Mouse.’”
“But, I say,” said Greenfield, “are you sure they’ll allow it to hang out there? It may get knocked about.”
“I dare say we may have a row with the monitors about it; but we must square them somehow. We shall have to keep a fag posted beside it, though, to protect it.”
“And to say ‘Move on!’ like the policemen,” added Wraysford. “Well, it’s evident you don’t want any help, Tony, so I’ll go.”
“Good-bye; don’t ask me to your study for supper, please.”