Ha, ha!--_corpore sanae_.

You should hear the fellows yell." The effect of this announcement was electrical, Langrish turned white, and Trimble turned red.

The others bit their nails in silence.

It was a season of delicious triumph to me.

I was master of the situation for once, and resolved to remain so as long as possible.
"Why, what's wrong with it ?" said Warminster, presently.
"Wouldn't you like to know ?" said I.
"_Corpore's_ feminine, isn't it ?" asked Coxhead.
"Common gender, I fancy," said Purkis; "depends on who the chap is." "You mean if it was Sarah it would be feminine, and if it was one of us it would be masculine," said Langrish.
This was a nasty one for me, but I held my ground.
"You'd better look it up in the dictionary," said I.
This was diplomatic; for although I knew the motto was wrong I could not quite say what it should have been.
After much labour it was decided that _corpore_ was neuter, and that the adjective in consequence must be _sanum_.
A resolution to that effect was proposed and seconded, but an amendment to the effect that as the document had gone out in the name of the president and every one knew it was his work, it was no business of the present company to help him out of the mess, was carried by a large majority.
With which delightful solution of the difficulty--delightful to every one but myself--we proceeded to the order of the day, which was to arrange the details of our picnic next half-holiday.
My colleagues remained obdurate on the question of revealing the place.
"If the day fellows get wind of it they'll be sure to try to do us," was the unfailing reply.
"Why shouldn't _I_ know as well as you ?" demanded I.
Whereupon it was explained that nobody knew where the place was to be yet--nor indeed was he likely to know till the morning of the day, when lots would be drawn.
Every member of the council would then be permitted to write the name of a place on a piece of paper, which would be shuffled in a hat and drawn for--the last paper drawn to be the place.