But when he looked back, the owner of the red tie was still in his place.

After considerable wagging of his head, he was forced to admit that he was seated between two different persons.
"Why, he can't help that," said the gentleman addressed as Wally.
Fisher minor laughed feebly, and really wished his brother would pay a little more attention to the "form." "Of course," said Wally, talking across to his twin brother, "fellows can't tell what asses they look until they're told.

Don't you remember the chap last term who always wore his trousers turned up, till the prefects made him turn them down or go on the Modern side." "Catch us taking any of your cast-off louts on our side," retorted the other brother, who evidently belonged to the slighted side; "yes-- shocking bad form it was--and when he turned them down at last, they found seventy-four nibs, fifty matches, and nobody knows how many candle-ends." All this time Fisher minor, with panic at his heart, was furiously trying to turn down his trouser-ends with his feet.

What a lucky escape for him to get this warning in time! During the walk round the grounds he had turned his ends up, and had quite forgotten to put them down again when he came in.

Now, no coaxing would get them down without manual assistance.