The majority of those present siding with "Rats," began to hustle Fletcher, while two gentlemen having dragged Bibbs from his perch, jumped up in his stead, and began to execute a clog-dance.
In the midst of this commotion Maxton elbowed his way through the crush, and having pushed the two boys off the sink, mounted it himself, crying,-- "Look here, I'm going to speak; just you listen a minute.

The reason why Bibbs wants to start a new magazine is because he wrote a novel once, and sent it to _The Ronleian_ to come out so much each month, and they wouldn't have it." "Shut up, Maxton!" cried Fletcher, rushing to the spot; "you've only come here on purpose to interrupt.

Let's turn him out!" "Yes, turn him out!" echoed the audience, who by this time were just in the spirit for "ragging," and would have ejected friend or foe alike for the sport of the thing--"turn him out!" The two clog-dancers being quite ready to avenge the interruption of their performance, formed themselves into a storming-party, and carried the platform by assault.

Maxton, struggling all the way, was dragged to the door, and cast out into the playground.

Most of the restless spirits in the audience requiring a short breathing-space to recover their wind after the tussle, there followed a few moments' quiet, which Fletcher immediately took advantage of to mount the sink and resume the business of the meeting.
"The magazine," he began, "is going to be written on exercise-book paper.