"Why don't you write home and ask your people to buy you a new pair of braces, instead of mending those old ones up with string?
You look just like a young street arab, and that's about what you are!" "Don't you fellows talk about broken braces, and looking like street arabs," cried Diggory, "when only yesterday old Greyling sent Stokes out of class and told him to go down to the lavatory and wash his face.
That's a sample of you Thurstonians!" "Look here!" shouted the boy alluded to, springing out of bed, and appearing in his night-shirt at the opposite end of the dormitory.
"You know very well that Grundy flipped a pen full of ink over me, and that was why I had to go out and wash my face." "I know you looked altogether a different fellow when you came back," returned Jack Vance: "I hardly knew you!" There was a momentary pause in the discussion, and Bibbs, thinking this a suitable opportunity for the delivery of his speech, stepped forward, and took up his stand in the doorway.

Hardly, however, had he pronounced the opening "Ahem! Gentlemen," when a cake of soap, flung by Maxton, struck him a violent blow in the pit of the stomach, and he was still rolling and groaning on his bed in the throes of recovering his lost wind when the prefect arrived to turn out the light.
The occupants of the two dormitories lay down, but not to sleep.
"You mark my word," said Diggory, "as soon as the prefects have gone down to supper those chaps from over the way'll come across and pay us out for throwing that soap.

We'd better put a chair against the door." "Look here!" remarked Fletcher junior to his room-mates.

"I shouldn't be at all surprised if Maxton and those other fellows in No.

14 come over and try to rag us; let's lie awake a bit and listen." For half an hour all was quiet and still, and the watchers in No.