14 were turning over and preparing to go to sleep, when "Rats" started up, exclaiming in a whisper, "They're coming! I heard some one in the passage.

There 'tis again! Jump up, you chaps, and let's make a sortie." Now, strange to say, an exactly similar alarm had just been given by Fletcher junior in No.

13, and the reason was simply as follows:-- Mr.Greyling, the master of the Lower Fourth, in walking towards his bedroom in slippered feet, was seized with a sneezing fit, and halting just outside the two dormitories, gave vent to his feelings with a loud "Et-chow!" After a moment's pause he sneezed again, and had hardly done so before both doors were suddenly flung open, and with a cry of "Ah, you sneaks!" and another of "Come on, you blackguards!" a crowd of white-robed figures rushed out, brandishing pillows and startling Mr.Greyling to such a degree that he exclaimed "Great Scott!" and dropped his candle.
What followed is too sad to be related in detail.

Mr.Greyling scattered largess in the shape of lines among the crowd, and the next day the occupants of the two dormitories went about thirsting for each other's blood.
On Saturday, just before morning school, the voting papers were collected, and directly after dinner the boys assembled to hear the result of the poll.

According to the usual custom, no masters were present.