Bunter The Tough Guy Of Greyfriars (Billy Bunter, Book 39)

BILLY BUNTER BUTTS IN - Friardale
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Got it in your waistcoat pocket? He did not, apparently, believe in that hamper.

Indeed, it was said in the Remove that if Bunter remarked that it was raining, a fellow had to look out of the window before 3 he believed him! But really it was improbable that even the unveracious Owl had rolled into No. Three members of the Co.

But they had not long to wait. There was a heavy tramp in the passage, and Bob Cherry reappeared: heavy-laden.

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Three faces brightened, and one stared blankly, as he dumped down a hamper on the well-worn carpet in No. Billy Bunter grinned. Johnny looked at the label tied on the hamper. It was addressed in capital letters: and undoubtedly it was addressed to W.

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Bunter, at Greyfriars School, near Courtfield, Kent. Johnny looked at it, stared at it, stared at it harder, and continued to stare at it, as if he doubted whether seeing was believing after all! The juniors were not long in getting that hamper open. Faces which had already brightened, brightened still more at a view of the contents. It was quite a large hamper, and it was packed, in fact crammed, with excellent things. Bob lifted out a cold chicken: Nugent a bundle of ham: Hurree Singh a large cake: Harry Wharton a pie: while Billy Bunter gathered up oranges and apples and bananas with both fat hands—Johnny Bull still staring blankly.

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Gentlemen, chaps, and fatheads, it was just luck that we missed tea—this is going to be a feast of the gods! Billy Bunter, for once, amazing to relate, the founder of the feast, beamed.

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Everybody was hungry, and there was more than enough for everybody: and it was all of the very best: and there was going to be, as Bob 4 expressed it, a feast of the gods! Horace Coker, of the Fifth Form at Greyfriars, did not take the trouble to answer those questions. Really, they hardly needed an answer. Coker, heedless of superfluous questions, slogged on at his lines. Potter and Greene stood looking at his bent head, with expressive expressions.

No doubt they sympathized with Coker, who had two hundred lines to write for his formmaster, Prout. But their looks, at the moment, did not express sympathy. Their looks expressed impatience and irritation.

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Coker was a slow worker. Any other fellow in the Greyfriars Fifth would have finished that impot, and taken it down to Prout before tea.

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Long after teatime, Coker was still slogging at it. The bell had passed him unheeded, —not that Coker would have heeded the bell in any case, for Coker seldom or never joined the scramble in hall. Which really was the reason why Potter and Greene were anxious for him to get through and finished: for they were more than ready for tea in the study, and Coker had to get through and finished first.

Potter and Greene had looked in again and again, hoping to find that Coker was through. Now, at length, they came in, feeling that they had waited quite long enough for Horace Coker to complete the collection of scrawls and smudges he was doing for Prout. No reply from Coker. At that Coker looked up. Like him to double them, and give me four hundred of this tosh to do?

After which brief interlude, Horace Coker resumed slogging at lines, and Potter and Greene resumed contemplating his bent head expressively. Leave those papers alone. Only the circumstance that Potter and Greene looked to Coker for tea in the study, saved him from having his head jammed down, hard, on those lines for Prout.

Coker often had narrow escapes without knowing it. On this occasion his escape was very narrow indeed: for Potter and Greene were hungry and annoyed, and growing hungrier and more annoyed every minute. Coker condescended to look up at last. Is there a hamper? If Horace Coker had a hamper—one of those well-packed, gorgeous hampers from his Aunt Judy—Potter and Greene were prepared to banish all desire to jam his head on the table, and indeed to love him as a brother.

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They knew those hampers. Nam si vestra manus violasset dona Minervae. They left Coker to slog. You fellows, get the hamper unpacked, while I take this tosh down to Prout. Go and get that hamper while I take my lines to Prout. Potter and Greene exchanged a glance, breathed very hard, and followed him. Coker stalked into the lobby, fully expecting that hamper to be on view, and ready to pour scorn on fellows whose careless eyes had somehow missed it. He stared round the lobby quite blankly. He knew that the hamper was there.

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So it was there—it had to be there. Coker at Greyfriars School. But where was the hamper? There was not the ghost of a hamper to be seen. His rugged brow grew wrathy. My hamper! But they could only shake their heads. Coker gave them a glare. He stalked out of the lobby, breathing wrath. This time Potter and Greene did not follow on. Hunting for a hamper did not appeal to them so much as tea at the school shop. They left the lobby by the door on the quad, and headed for Mrs. Just before break-up at Greyfriars School, nobody really wanted to hear anything from Billy Bunter on the subject of the holidays.

Remove fellows were asking one another for the hols: but nobody, so far, had displayed any desire for the fascinating company of William George Bunter. All over the form, fellows were making arrangements about the hols: but the fattest member of the form was not included in any of those arrangements. Bunter did not really need asking for the hols. He was prepared to ask himself. All Harry Wharton and Co. But it was a little awkward, sitting round the table in No. I Study, enjoying a tremendous spread, with Billy Bunter the unexpected founder of the feast.

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Results 1 - 30 of 39 [KINDLE] Bunter The Tough Guy Of Greyfriars (Billy Bunter, Book 39) by Frank Richards. Book file. PDF easily for everyone and every device. Bunter the Tough Guy of. Greyfriars. COVER ILLUSTRATION. BY MARY The other fellows followed Wharton, and Billy Bunter followed the other fellows. unpacking books, glanced round at him with a welcoming smile. .. Page

It was undoubtedly a gorgeous spread. Five fellows were hungry, and had seldom been hungrier: and the table groaned, as a novelist would say, under the goodly viands. Often as Bunter had talked of the wealth and plenty that reigned at Bunter Court, no such hamper had ever arrived at Greyfriars before for Bunter. Even Smithy never had a consignment like this.