He was coachman for the furley pupilles to Dykounson Scole, and being the snots they were, saw Roge as some cheese wagon churl.
Still, who would care what a load of rumbustious kids have to think? The gruff, burly man with not-so-hidden caste insecurities, that’s who: Roge.
Quarrels under the static and stench of daily diesel drives were just too much — it was time to get petty.
Roge simply created whole-cloth Stories from the Backside to send these yobbies to the headmaster. That’ll show ’em.
Our furley youth, whilst quite exasperating, do have a sense of justice.
At year’s end, Master Stoddard stood in the East Bank at Crique de Yanick and watched Roge and the coach rumble off. He unscrolled the parchment and held it aloft in the sun.
“Behold this bismare — thy guile empourens to the quick my quill to make thine ymage a marke of japery!”
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