"Well, old Madman, and how goes the birds'-nesting campaign? How's Howlett? I expect the young rooks'll be out in another fortnight, and then my turn comes."
"There'll be no young rooks fit for pies for a month yet; shows how much you know about it," rejoined Martin, who, though very good friends with East, regarded him with considerable suspicion for his propensity to practical jokes.
"Scud knows nothing and cares for nothing but grub and mischief," said Tom; "but young rook-pie, specially when you've had to climb for the rooks, is very pretty eating. However, I say, Scud, we're all going after a hawk's nest to-morrow, in Caldecott's Spinney; and if you'll come and behave yourself, we'll have a stunning climb."
"And a bathe in Aganippe.[21] Hooray! I'm your man."
"No; no bathing in Aganippe; that's where our betters go."
"Well, well, never mind. I'm for the hawk's nest and anything that turns up."
And, his hunger appeased, East departed to his study; "that sneak Jones," as he informed them, who had just got into the sixth, and occupied the next study, having instituted a nightly visitation upon East and his chum, to their no small discomfort.
When he was gone, Martin rose to follow, but Tom stopped him. "No one goes near New Row," said he, "so you may just as well stop here and do your verses, and then we'll have some more talk. We'll be no end quiet; besides, no præpostor comes here now—we havn't been visited once this half."
So the table was cleared, the cloth restored, and the three fell to work with Gradus and dictionary upon the morning's Vulgus.
They were three very fair examples of the way in which such tasks were done at Rugby, "in the consulship of Plancus."[22] And doubtless the method is little changed, for there is nothing new under the sun, especially at schools.