My fellow-Philosophers, I regret to say, neither shared in nor appreciated my forebodings. "Look at that ass Sarah, trying to look virtuous," said Trimble. "Just like him, when there's a row on." "I'm not trying to look virtuous," said I; "I'm sick of all these rows, though." "Pity you aren't sick when you're getting us into them, instead of after. You know you've been at the bottom of every row there's been on this term." This sweeping statement was not calculated to allay my discomfort. "Don't tell lies," said I. "No more we are. Who got us into that mess at Camp Hill Bottom? Sarah did. Who landed us in the row about Jarman's guy? Old Sarah. Who played the fool with that barge and got us all licked? Cad Sarah. Who started the shindy last night that's fetched us all in here? Lout Sarah. Who's going to be expelled? Howling Sarah. And who'll be a jolly good riddance of bad rubbish? Chimpanzee Sarah. There you are. Make what you like of it, and don't talk to us." This tirade took my breath away. I knew it said more than it meant. Still, it wasn't flattering, and it taxed my affection sorely to sit quietly and hear it out. But, somehow, to-day I was too anxious and worried to care much what anybody said. Fortunately the entrance of the doctor, Mr Sharpe, and Mr Jarman, made further discussion for the time being unnecessary--and a gloomy silence fell over the assembly. Dr England was evidently worried. Secretly, I believe, he was bored by the whole affair, and wished Mr Sharpe and his prefects could manage the affairs of their own house. Perhaps, too, the fact that Mr Jarman was once more the complainant had something to do with his lack of humour. "Now, boys," said he, "this is an unusual and unpleasant interview, and I heartily wish it were not necessary. When a whole house is reported for rowdiness, it shows, I'm afraid, that the sense of duty to the school is in a bad way. This is not the first occasion this term on which this house has been reported, but I have previously refrained from interfering, in the hope that the good feeling of the boys themselves would assert itself and make any action of mine unnecessary. I am sorry it has not been so. As to the scrimmage in the quadrangle yesterday, I am not disposed to make too much of that; at any rate, that weighs less with me than what I understand to have been a deliberate act of disobedience to the master, who quite properly interfered to restore order; disobedience, I am sorry to say, encouraged, if not instigated, by the head boy of the house. I hope there may be some mistake about this. Will the boys who were engaged in the fight stand up?" The Philosophers rose to a man, with a promptitude which was almost aggressive. Bother it all, why should we be backward in admitting that we had gone for those day boys, and "put them to bed" for once? "I ask you boys to say whether you heard Mr Jarman tell you to wait till he spoke to you?"