"What's he got to do with us?
When does he come across us?
Only when there's a row on.

He's got nothing at all to say to us at other times." "You mean, if we want to let him alone we shall have to shut up rows ?" inquired Langrish.

"Rather rough, isn't it ?" "Not if he knows the reason," suggested I.

"Let's send him a round- robin and let him know." "Not half a bad idea." Whereupon the following candid epistle was concocted and signed by all present:-- "To T.

Crofter, Esquire, Captain Sharpe's _pro tem_., etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.
"Dear Crofter,--We the undersigned Philosophers wish to say we're going steady this term on our own hooks, and hope you will not think it's because of you.