"Look here, young Wheatfield," said Clapperton, put out by the obtuseness of his fag, "the long and short of it is you're not to go. You know what's happened. Our side has been snubbed and cut out of the games by those fellows; and now they want to get us to come to their precious meeting to help them collar the clubs." "That's just why I and my chaps are going to turn up," said Percy. "We'll let them know!" "Do you hear what I say? You're not to go, you or any of them. If you can't understand the reason, I dare say you'll understand a thrashing. You'll get it unless you stand out like the rest of us." "I say, what's the Latin for `wrong,' Clapperton?" "Do you hear what I say?" "Yes, yes--is it `malus,' or `unrectus,' or what?" "Are you going to do what I tell you?" "How can I say what the chaps'll do?" "You must tell them; you're fags' captain. They must do what you tell them." "I'd jolly well like to catch them not," said Percy, tossing his head: "I'd teach 'em. I say, do you think `unrectus' will do?" "Remember, you'll get it pretty hot if you disobey in this, I promise you." "Perhaps `malus' is better form," suggested the junior. Clapperton left in despair. "What a fearful ass I was," said Percy when he had gone, "not to make him write my impot! Just like me. Catch our lot not going to that meeting! We aint going to skulk. Whew! there goes the quarter to! I shall never get done this brutal thing." "Id est malus non facere quad magister dicit. Vos voluntas laetus audire ut Fellsgarthus liquebat Rendleshamus ad pedemballum super Saturdaium durare," (Saturday last). "Nos obtenebanus unum goalum ad nil quod non erat malum. Ego debeo nunc concludere. Ego sum vestrum fideliter Perceius Granum agrum." (Percy flattered himself he knew the correct Latin for his own name.) He had a rush to get this work of art over to Mr Forder in time, and was considerably mortified to observe that the master did not seem at all gratified by the performance. Just like Forder! the more you laid yourself out to please him, the worse he was. "Leave it, sir. I'll speak to you to-morrow." "That means a licking," said Percy to himself. "I can see it in his eye. All serene. That's his way of showing his gratitude." And he went back in a very bad temper to his own room, where his comrades had arrived to greet him. "Why ever can't you chaps be in the way when you're wanted?" prowled Percy. "There was Clapperton in here just now talking rot about the meeting next week. What do you think? He says we're not to go to it." "Why not?" Percy in his lucid manner tried to explain. "All gammon," said Lickford. "If we're to be stopped going to Hall, we shall be stopped grub next." This was an argument that went home. "If Clapperton had made it worth our while, you know," said Cottle, "it might have been different. I don't care much about the meeting; but if I stop away for him, I'll get something for it."