"Now just listen to me.

We ain't going to fag for Jones.

If you tell him you've sent us, we'll each of us give you such a thrashing as you'll remember." And Tom tore up the list and threw the pieces into the fire.
"And mind you, too," said East, "don't let me catch you again sneaking about the School-house, and picking up our fags.

You haven't got the sort of hide to take a sound licking kindly." And he opened the door and sent the young gentleman flying into the quadrangle with a parting kick.
"Nice boy, Tommy," said East, shoving his hands in his pockets, and strolling to the fire.
"Worst sort we breed," responded Tom, following his example.

"Thank goodness, no big fellow ever took to petting me." "You'd never have been like that," said East.