erhaps
could only be expected on the first day of term. One wild-eyed
long-haired boy had brought out a small china figure with which, and the
assistance of his right hand draped in a pocket handkerchief, and
wielding a penholder, he was busy enacting a drama based on the lines of
Punch and Judy, to the breathless amusement of his neighbours.

Mr. Bultitude might have hoped to escape notice by a policy of judicious
self-effacement, but unhappily his long, blank, uninterested face was
held by his companions to bear an implied reproach; and being delicately
sensitive on this point, they kicked his legs viciously, which made him
extremely glad when dinnertime came, although he felt too faint and
bilious to be tempted by anything but the lightest and daintiest
luncheon.

But at dinner he found, with a shudder, that he was expected to swallow
a thick ragged section of boiled mutton which had been carved and helped
so long before he sat down to it, that the stagnant gravy was chilled
and congealed into patches of greasy white. He managed to swallow it
with many pauses of invincible disgust--only to find it replaced by a
solid slab of pale brown suet pudding, sparsely bedewed with unctuous
black treacle.

This, though a plentiful, and by no means unwholesome fare for growing
boys, was not what he had been accustomed to, and feeling far too heavy
and unwell after it to venture upon an encounter with the Doctor, he
wandered slow and melancholy round the bare gravelled playground during
the half-hour after dinner devoted to the inevitable "chevy," until the
Doctor appeared at the head of the staircase.

It is always sad for the historian to have to record a departure from
principle, and I have to confess with shame on Mr. Bultitude's account
that, feeling the Doctor's eye upon him, and striving to propitiate him,
he humiliated himself so far as to run about with an elaborate affection
of zest, and his exertions were rewarded by hearing himself cordially
encouraged to further efforts.

It cheered and emboldened him. "I've put him in a good temper," he told
himself; "if I can only keep him in one till the evening, I really think
I might be able to go up and tell him what a ridiculous mess I've got
into. Why should I care, after all? At least I've done nothing to be
ashamed of. It's an accident that might have happened to any man!"

It is a curious and unpleasant thing that, however reassuring and
convincing the arguments may