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Stalky & Co.
by Rudyard Kipling.
"Let us now praise famous men"-- Men of little showing-- For their work continueth, And their work continueth, Greater than their knowing.
Western wind and open surge Tore us from our mothers; Flung us on a naked sh.o.r.e (Twelve bleak houses by the sh.o.r.e!
Seven summers by the sh.o.r.e!) 'Mid two hundred brothers.
There we met with famous men Set in office o'er us.
And they beat on us with rods-- Faithfully with many rods-- Daily beat us on with rods-- For the love they bore us!
Out of Egypt unto Troy-- Over Himalaya-- Far and sure our bands have gone-- Hy-Brasil or Babylon, Islands of the Southern Run, And cities of Cathaia!
And we all praise famous men-- Ancients of the College; For they taught us common sense--- Tried to teach us common sense-- Truth and G.o.d's Own Common Sense Which is more than knowledge!
Each degree of Lat.i.tude Strung about Creation Seeth one (or more) of us, (Of one muster all of us-- Of one master all of us--) Keen in his vocation.
This we learned from famous men Knowing not its uses When they showed in daily work Man must finish off his work-- Right or wrong, his daily work-- And without excuses.
Servants of the staff and chain, Mine and fuse and grapnel-- Some before the face of Kings, Stand before the face of Kings; Bearing gifts to divers Kings-- Gifts of Case and Shrapnel.
This we learned from famous men Teaching in our borders.
Who declare'd it was best, Safest, easiest and best-- Expeditious, wise and best-- To obey your orders.
Some beneath the further stars Bear the greater burden.
Set to serve the lands they rule, (Save he serve no man may rule) Serve and love the lands they rule; Seeking praise nor guerdon.
This we learned from famous men Knowing not we learned it.
Only, as the years went by-- Lonely, as the years went by-- Far from help as years went by Plainer we discerned it.
Wherefore praise we famous men Prom whose bays we borrow-- They that put aside Today-- All the joys of their Today-- And with toil of their Today Bought for us Tomorrow!
Bless and praise we famous men Men of little showing!
For their work continueth And their work continueth Broad and deep continueth Great beyond their knowing!
Copyright, 1899. by Rudyard Kipling
"IN AMBUSH."
In summer all right-minded boys built huts in the furze-hill behind the College--little lairs whittled out of the heart of the p.r.i.c.kly bushes, full of stumps, odd root-ends, and spikes, but, since they were strictly forbidden, palaces of delight. And for the fifth summer in succession, Stalky, McTurk, and Beetle (this was before they reached the dignity of a study) had built like beavers a place of retreat and meditation, where they smoked.
Now, there was nothing in their characters as known to Mr. Prout, their house-master, at all commanding respect; nor did Foxy, the subtle red-haired school Sergeant, trust them. His business was to wear tennis-shoes, carry binoculars, and swoop hawklike upon evil boys. Had he taken the field alone, that hut would have been raided, for Foxy knew the manners of his quarry; but Providence moved Mr. Prout, whose school-name, derived from the size of his feet, was Hoofer, to investigate on his own account; and it was the cautious Stalky who found the track of his pugs on the very floor of their lair one peaceful afternoon when Stalky would fain have forgotten Prout and his works in a volume of Surtees and a new briar-wood pipe. Crusoe, at sight of the footprint, did not act more swiftly than Stalky. He removed the pipes, swept up all loose match-ends, and departed to warn Beetle and McTurk.
But it was characteristic of the boy that he did not approach his allies till he had met and conferred with little Hartopp, President of the Natural History Society, an inst.i.tution which Stalky held in contempt, Hartopp was more than surprised when the boy meekly, as he knew how, begged to propose himself, Beetle, and McTurk as candidates; confessed to a long-smothered interest in first-flowerings, early b.u.t.terflies, and new arrivals, and volunteered, if Mr. Hartopp saw fit, to enter on the new life at once. Being a master, Hartopp was suspicious; but he was also an enthusiast, and his gentle little soul had been galled by chance-heard remarks from the three, and specially Beetle. So he was gracious to that repentant sinner, and entered the three names in his book.
Then, and not till then, did Stalky seek Beetle and McTurk in their house form-room. They were stowing away books for a quiet afternoon in the furze, which they called the "wuzzy."
"All up," said Stalky, serenely. "I spotted Heffy's fairy feet round our hut after dinner. 'Blessing they're so big."
"Con-found! Did you hide our pipes?" said Beetle.
"Oh, no. Left 'em in the middle of the hut, of course. What a blind a.s.s you are, Beetle! D'you think n.o.body thinks but yourself? Well, we can't use the hut any more. Hoofer will be watchin' it."
"'Bother! Likewise blow!'" said McTurk thoughtfully, unpacking the volumes with which his chest was cased. The boys carried their libraries between their belt and their collar. "Nice job! This means we're under suspicion for the rest of the term."
"Why? All that Heffy has found is a hut. He and Foxy will watch it. It's nothing to do with us; only we mustn't be seen that way for a bit."
"Yes, and where else are we to go?" said Beetle. "You chose that place, too--an'--an' I wanted to read this afternoon."
Stalky sat on a desk drumming his heels on the form.
"You're a despondin' brute, Beetle. Sometimes I think I shall have to drop you altogether. Did you ever know your Uncle Stalky forget you yet?
_His rebus infectis_--after I'd seen Heffy's man-tracks marchin'
round our hut, I found little Hartopp--_destricto ense_--wavin' a b.u.t.terfly-net. I conciliated Hartopp. 'Told him that you'd read papers to the Bug-hunters if he'd let you join, Beetle. 'Told him you liked b.u.t.terflies, Turkey. Anyhow, I soothed the Hartoffles, and we're Bug-hunters now."
"What's the good of that?" said Beetle.
"Oh, Turkey, kick him!"
In the interests of science bounds were largely relaxed for the members of the Natural History Society. They could wander, if they kept clear of all houses, practically where they chose; Mr. Hartopp holding himself responsible for their good conduct.
Beetle began to see this as McTurk began the kicking.
"I'm an a.s.s, Stalky!" he said, guarding the afflicted part. "_Pax_, Turkey. I'm an a.s.s."
"Don't stop, Turkey. Isn't your Uncle Stalky a great man?"
"Great man," said Beetle.
"All the same bug-huntin's a filthy business," said McTurk. "How the deuce does one begin?"
"This way," said Stalky, turning to some f.a.gs' lockers behind him. "f.a.gs are dabs at Natural History. Here's young Braybrooke's botany-case." He flung out a tangle of decayed roots and adjusted the slide. "'Gives one no end of a professional air, I think. Here's Clay Minor's geological hammer. Beetle can carry that. Turkey, you'd better covet a b.u.t.terfly-net from somewhere."
"I'm blowed if I do," said McTurk, simply, with immense feeling.
"Beetle, give me the hammer."
"All right. I'm not proud. Chuck us down that net on top of the lockers, Stalky."
"That's all right. It's a collapsible jamboree, too. Beastly luxurious dogs these f.a.gs are. Built like a fis.h.i.+n'-rod. 'Pon my sainted Sam, but we look the complete Bug-hunters! Now, listen to your Uncle Stalky!
We're goin' along the cliffs after b.u.t.terflies. Very few chaps come there. We're goin' to leg it, too. You'd better leave your book behind."
"Not much!" said Beetle, firmly. "I'm not goin' to be done out of my fun for a lot of filthy b.u.t.terflies."
"Then you'll sweat horrid. You'd better carry my Jorrocks. 'Twon't make you any hotter."