r holidays by a week by way of compensation."
This announcement (which by no means relieved the general
depression--the boys receiving it with a sickly interest) was good news
to Paul, and even had the effect of making him forget his position for
the time.
"I'm uncommonly glad to hear it, Dr. Grimstone," he said heartily, "an
excellent arrangement. Boys have too many holidays as it is. There's no
reason, to my mind, why parents should be the sufferers by every
snowstorm. It's no joke, I can assure you, to have a great idle boy
hanging about the place eating his empty head off!"
A burglar enlarging upon the sanctity of the law of property, or a sheep
exposing the fallacies of vegetarianism, could hardly have produced a
greater sensation.
Every boy was roused from his languor to stare and wonder at these
traitorous sentiments, which, from the mouth of any but a known and
tried companion, would have roused bitter hostility and contempt. As it
was, their wonder became a rapturous admiration, and they waited for the
situation to develop with a fearful and secret joy.
It was some time before the Doctor quite recovered himself; then he said
with a grim smile, "This is indeed finding Saul amongst the prophets;
your sentiments, if sincere, Bultitude--I repeat, if sincere--are very
creditable. But I am obliged to look upon them with suspicion!" Then, as
if to dismiss a doubtful subject, he inquired generally, "And how have
you all been spending your holidays, eh!"
There was no attempt to answer this question, it being felt probably
that it was, like the conventional "How do you do?" one to which an
answer is neither desired nor expected, especially as he continued
almost immediately, "I took my boy Tom up to town the week before
Christmas to see the representation of the 'Agamemnon' at St. George's
Hall. The 'Agamemnon,' as most of you are doubtless aware, is a drama by
AEschylus, a Greek poet of established reputation. I was much pleased by
the intelligent appreciation Tom showed during the performance. He
distinctly recognised several words from his Greek Grammar in the course
of the dialogue."
No one seemed capable of responding except Mr. Bultitude, who dashed
into the breach with an almost pathetic effort to maintain his
accustomed stiffness.
"I may be old-fashioned," he said, "very likely I am; but
I--ah--decidedly disapprove of taking children to dramatic exhibitions
of any kind. It unsettles them, sir--u
|