The place was haunted by strange and fearsome insects, too, and the moving of the classes above sent showers of dust down between the cracks in the worn floor.  But those boys were satisfied that they were having a perfectly blissful time, and were serenely happy in defiance of unpropitious surroundings.  They were ‘playing the wag,’ and to be playing the wag under any circumstances is a guarantee of pure felicity to the average healthy boy.

Probably the excessive heat had suggested to Dick Haddon the advisability of spending the afternoon under the school instead of within the close crowded room; at any rate he suggested it to Jacker McKnight, commonly known as Jacker Mack, and now after an hour of it the boys were still jubilant.  The game had to be played with great caution, and conversation was conducted in whispers when ideas could not be conveyed in dumb show.  All that was going on in the room above was distinctly audible to the deserters below, and the joy of camping there out of the reach of Joel Ham, B.A., and beyond all the trials and tribulations of the Higher Fifth, and hearing other fellows being tested, and hectored, and caned, was too tremendous for whisperings, and must be expressed in wild rollings and contortions and convulsive kicking.

‘Parrot Cann, will you kindly favour me with a few minutes on the floor?’

It was the old cracked voice, flavoured with an ominous irony.  Dick paused in the middle of a throw with a cocked ear and upturned eyes; Jacker Mack grinned all across his broad face and winked meaningly.  They heard the shuffling of a pair of heavily shod feet, and then the voice again.

’Parrot, my man, you are a comedian by instinct, and will probably live to be an ornament to the theatrical profession; but it is my duty to repress premature manifestations of your genius.  Parrot, hold out!

They heard the swish of the cane and the school master’s sarcastic comments between the strokes.

’Ah-h, that was a beauty!  Once more, Parrot, my friend, if you please.  Excellent!  Excellent!  We will try again.  Practice of this kind makes for perfection, you know, Parrot.  Good, good—­very good!  If you should be spoiled in the making, Parrot, you will not in your old age ascribe it to any paltry desire on my part to spare the rod, will you, Parrot?’

’S’help me, I won’t, sir!

There was such a world of pathos in the wail with which Parrot replied that Dick choked in his efforts to repress his emotions.  The lads heard the victim blubbing, and pictured his humorous contortions after every cut—­for Parrot was weirdly and wonderfully gymnastic under punishment—­and Jacker hugged himself and kicked ecstatically, and young Haddon bowed his forehead in the dirt and drummed with his toes, and gave expression to his exuberant hilarity in frantic pantomime.  The rough and ready schoolboy is very near to the beginnings; his sense of humour has not been impaired by over-refinement, but remains somewhat akin to that of the gentle savage; and although his disposition to laugh at the misfortunes of his best friends may be deplorable from various points of view, it has not been without its influence in fashioning those good men who put on a brave face in the teeth of tribulation.