tation, that all young gentlemen under
the age of nine shall surrender their fireworks to the elder boys, and
stand to see the display without the fence.

2. That any damage or injury caused by the said display to Mr Root's
premises, fences, etcetera, shall be made good by a subscription of the
school.

_Ans_. Granted.

3. It being now nearly eight o'clock, the young gentlemen shall have
their usual suppers.

_Ans_. Granted.

4. That a general amnesty shall be proclaimed, and that no person or
persons shall suffer in any manner whatever for the part that he or they
may have taken in this thoughtless resistance.

_Ans_. Granted, with the exception of Masters Atkinson, Brewster,
Davenant, and Rattlin.

Upon the last article issue was joined, the flag of truce still flying
during the debate. The very pith of the thing was the act of amnesty
and oblivion. Yet so eager were now the majority of the boys for their
amusement, that had it not been for the noble firmness of Saint Albans,
the leaders, with poor Pilgarlick, would have been certainly sacrificed
to their lust of pleasure. But the affair was soon brought to a crisis.
All this acting the military pleased me most mightily, and, the better
to enjoy it, I crouched under one of the desks that formed the barricade
and, with my head and shoulders thrust into the enemy's quarters, sat
grinning forth my satisfaction.

The last clause was still canvassing, when, unheard-of treachery! Mr
Root, seeing his victim so near, seized me by the ears, and attempted to
lug me away captive. My schoolfellows attempted to draw me back. Saint
Albans protested--even some of the masters said "Shame!" when Mr Root,
finding he could not succeed, gave me a most swinging slap of the face,
as a parting benediction, and relinquished his grasp. No sooner did I
fairly find myself on the right side of the barricade, than, all my
terrors overcome by pain, I seized an inkstand and discharged it point
blank at the fleecy curls of the ferulafer with an unlucky fatality of
aim! Mr Root's armorial bearings were now, at least, on his crest,
_blanche_ chequered _noir_.

"On, my lads, on!" exclaimed the gallant Saint Albans; the barricades
were scaled in an instant, and we were at fisticuffs with our foes.
Rulers flew obliquely, perpendicularly, and horizontally--inkstands made
ink-spouts in the air, with their dark gyrations--books, that the
authors had done their best to fasten on the