Hang it all! But listen
here, Tom--here's fun. Mr. Winkle's horse--"
"And I've made up my mind," broke in Tom, "that I won't fag except for
the sixth."
"Quite right too, my boy," cried East, putting his finger on the place
and looking up; "but a pretty peck of troubles you'll get into, if
you're going to play that game. However, I'm all for a strike myself, if
we can get others to join. It's getting too bad."
"Can't we get some sixth-form fellow to take it up?" asked Tom.
"Well, perhaps we might. Morgan would interfere, I think. Only," added
East, after a moment's pause, "you see, we should have to tell him about
it, and that's against School principles. Don't you remember what old
Brooke said about learning to take our own parts?"
"Ah, I wish old Brooke were back again. It was all right in his time."
"Why, yes, you see, then the strongest and best fellows were in the
sixth, and the fifth-form fellows were afraid of them, and they kept
good order; but now our sixth-form fellows are too small, and the fifth
don't care for them, and do what they like in the house."
"And so we get a double set of masters," cried Tom indignantly--"the
lawful ones, who are responsible to the Doctor at any rate, and the
unlawful, the tyrants, who are responsible to nobody."
"Down with the tyrants!" cried East; "I'm all for law and order, and
hurrah for a revolution.
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