Billy Bunter's Benefit By Frank Richards - Friardale
Billy Bunter's Benefit By Frank Richards - Friardale
Billy Bunter's Benefit By Frank Richards - Friardale
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<strong>Billy</strong> Bunter’s <strong>Benefit</strong><br />
<strong>By</strong> <strong>Frank</strong> <strong>Richards</strong><br />
been well acquainted ever since I was a schoolboy myself.”<br />
Bunter almost fell down.<br />
“Verses, Bunter, which have been famous for many centuries—verses<br />
which were written almost two thousand years ago—written by the<br />
greatest poet of the Augustan age—verses with which every schoolmaster<br />
is familiar— known to almost every senior schoolboy—.”<br />
Bunter could only goggle at him.<br />
So far as Bunter knew, these verses had been written by Harry Wharton,<br />
of the Remove, in No. 1 Study at Greyfriars School! Hadn’t he found them<br />
there, written in Wharton’s fist? It seemed to Bunter that Quelch must<br />
be wandering in his mind.<br />
“Such effrontery—such audacity—such unscrupulous mendacity—such<br />
insensate stupidity!” Quelch was almost gasping. “Could you imagine,<br />
Bunter, when you copied these verses from Virgil, that I, a school-master,<br />
was unacquainted with the works of that poet, and could be imposed upon?<br />
Could you suppose for one moment that a form-master in this school had<br />
never read the seventh eclogue of Virgil? Are you in your wits?”<br />
“Oh, my hat!” gasped Bob Cherry, involuntarily.<br />
“Oh, that fat idiot!” breathed Peter Todd.<br />
“I am amazed,—shocked—astounded! The dishonesty of such an action is<br />
appalling! But the stupidity of it is almost beyond credence!” articulated<br />
Mr. Quelch, “You have handed in, as your own work, verses with which I<br />
have been familiar from boyhood!—copied from one of the best-known<br />
works of a celebrated poet—and apparently hoped to escape detection!”<br />
Mr. Quelch held up the paper.<br />
The juniors stared at it.<br />
They had been very curious about what sort of paper <strong>Billy</strong> Bunter could<br />
have handed in for the Latin Prize. But certainly they had not expected<br />
this! They fairly blinked at that Latin paper. The hand was Bunter’s—the<br />
verses were written in his well-known scrawl. But the composition<br />
certainly was not Bunter’s!<br />
Forte sub arguta consederat ilice Daphnis,<br />
compulerantque greges Corydon et Thyrsis in unum.<br />
Thysis ovis, Corydon distentas lacte capellas,<br />
ambo florentes aetatibus, Arcades ambo,<br />
et cantare pares et respondere parati.<br />
Quelch tapped the paper again with a lean forefinger. “These verses,<br />
Bunter, copied from the seventh eclogue of Virgil, you have endeavoured<br />
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