<<<
Whatever the nature of that interview,
it did not improve either King’s or Prout’s ruffled plumes,
for, when they came out of the Head’s house, eyes noted
that the one was red and blue with emotion as to his nose,
and that the other was sweating profusely. […]
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“They use the editorial ‘we,’” said King, irrelevantly. “It annoys me. ‘Where’s your prose, Corkran?’ ‘Well, sir, we haven’t quite done it yet.’ ‘We’ll bring it in a minute,’ and so on. And the same with the others.”
“There’s great virtue in that ‘we,’” said little Hartopp. “You know I take them for trig. McTurk may […]
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En cuanto a la serenidad,
Kipling nos dice
en «Stalky & Co.»:
They were learning,
at the expense of
a fellow-countryman,
the lesson of their race,
which is
to put away all emotion
and entrap the alien
at the proper time.
«Beetle! You’re oppressed and insulted and bullied by King. Don’t you feel it?»
«Let me alone! I can write some more poetry about him if I am, I suppose.»
«Mad! Quite mad!» said Stalky to the visitors, as one exhibiting strange beasts. «Beetle reads an ass called Brownin’, and McTurk reads […]
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M’Turk, in a violet silk skirt and a coquettish blue turban,
slouched forward as one thoroughly ashamed of himself.
The Slave of the Lamp climbed down from the piano,
and dispassionately kicked him.
‘Play up, Turkey,’ he said; ‘this is serious.’
But there fell on the door the […]
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Prout’s house was furious because Macrea’s and Hartopp’s houses joined King’s to insult them. They called a house-meeting after dinner — an excited and angry meeting of all save the prefects, whose dignity, though they sympathized, did not allow them to attend. They read ungrammatical resolutions, and made speeches […]
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“It’s King! It’s King!” gulped Stalky, his head on the horsehair pillow.
McTurk was eating the rag-carpet before the speckless hearth,
and the sofa heaved to the emotions of Beetle.
Through the thick glass the figures without showed blue, distorted, and menacing. […]
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“‘Take not out your ‘ounds on a werry windy day,’” Stalky struck in. “I don’t care if you let him off.”
“Nor me,” said Beetle. “Heffy is my only joy — Heffy and King.”
“I ‘ad to do it,” said the Sergeant, plaintively.
“Right, O! Led away by bad […]
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Una buena pieza del género
tal vez sea lo que hace Kipling
con un examen impreso de prosa latina…
>>>
Said Beetle, after a glance: «It’s King’s Latin prose exam. paper. In—In Varrem: actio prima. What a lark!»
«Think o’ the pure-souled, high-minded boys who’d give their eyes […]