"I caught them going it like one o'clock in the hotel garden at Lucerne--it was the first time I twigged what was up; and what do you think he called my sister ?" "What ?" they all demanded.
"Keep it close, I say.

Ha, ha!--give you a guess all round; Dig knows." "Pussy cat," suggested one.
"Jumbo," suggested another.
"Cherubim," suggested a third.
Arthur shook his head triumphantly.
"Out of it, all of you.

You can tell 'em, Dig." Dig composed his features once or twice to utter the word, but as many times broke down.

At last in high falsetto he got it out,-- "Chuckey!" The laugh which greeted this revelation penetrated to the upper region, and caused Dr Ponsford to rise on his seat and look in the direction of the uproar.
At the same moment the Sixth-Form boy at the head of the table left his place and bore down on the offenders.
"_Cave_!" muttered Arthur, purple in the face; "here's Ainger." Instantly the party was thoroughly buried in its bread and cheese.
"Was that you, Oakshott, making that row ?" "I was only saying something to Herapath," replied the innocent; "I'm sure _I_ didn't make a row." "Don't tell falsehoods.

Do fifty lines, and next time you'll be sent up." "That's a nice lark," muttered the baronet as the senior retired.