Bunter the Caravanner - Friardale

'Very good, sir.'
Under the last glimmer of a setting sun, the Famous Five
unpacked the tent from the van, and set to work erecting it and
preparing it for the night. Billy Bunter, for whom no form of
exertion had any appeal, sat in a camp chair and started on a
preliminary supper. A full round moon came up over the woods and
meadows, and the camp was almost as light as by day, when the
Famous Five joined Bunter at the festive board. Billy Bunter,
restored to good humour by the foodstuffs, beamed on them
through his big spectacles.
'Tuck in, you chaps,' he said. 'Jolly good prog, ain't it?'
'Quite!' agreed Harry Wharton.
'And lots of it,' added Bunter.
'The lotfulness is terrific, my esteemed fat Bunter.'
'Nothing mean about me,' said the fat Owl.
'I've asked you fellows for these hols, and I'm going to do you
well. You wouldn't get spreads like this if you'd gone off on
your own these hols.'
'Um!'
'Nothing like it, I fancy,' said Bunter. 'Money's no object,
with me. Everything of the best, and lots of it. All you fellows
have got to do is to remember that I'm running the show, and
what I say goes. Then we'll get on all right. Jervis!'
'Sir! '
'Is my bed ready in the van?'
'Quite, sir.'
Billy Bunter heaved himself out of the camp chair.
'I fancy I'll turn in now,' he remarked. 'You fellows had better
do the same. Don't kick up any row after I've turned in.'
'To hear is to obey!' said Bob Cherry, solemnly.
Billy Bunter rolled off to the caravan. Jervis respectfully
retired to a distance with his sleeping bag.
Bob Cherry yawned. 'Turning in?' he asked.
'Hasn't Bunter told us to?' asked Johnny Bull, sarcastically.
'Bunter can't help being a blithering idiot,' said Bob,
tolerantly. 'Oh, listen to the band!' he added, a few moments
later.
Snore!
Anyone unacquainted with Billy Bunter's manners and customs
might have supposed that a storm was brewing. Certainly that
deep rumble sounded remarkably like the growl of distant
thunder. But that deep and resonant snore was quite a familiar
sound in the Remove dormitory at Greyfriars. It did not indicate
that a storm was brewing - only that William George Bunter was
bound by slumber's chain.
Snore!
'Anybody like the other bunk in the van?' asked Bob.
'Ha, ha, ha!'
Nobody was keen on the other bunk in the caravan, at close
quarters with Billy Bunter's stentorian snore.