pon which the prize-giving was based, he determined to be
among the prize winners at the end of the term. His ambition was fired
by what the older boys told him of the beautiful books awarded, and the
honour it was to get one of them. He knew that he could not please his
father or mother better than by being on the prize list, and so he
applied himself to his lessons with a vigour and fidelity that soon
brought him to the notice of the observant doctor.

"I am glad to see you taking so much interest in your work," said he one
morning, pausing, in his round of inspection, to lay his hand kindly
upon Bert's shoulder as the latter bent over his slate, working out a
problem in proportion. "A good beginning is a very important thing."

Bert blushed to the roots of his hair at this unexpected and, indeed,
unusual compliment from the grim master, who, before the boy could
frame any reply, passed out of hearing.

"We'll do our best, won't we, Shorty?" said Bert, turning to his friend
beside him.

"I suppose so," answered Frank, in rather a doubtful tone. "But your
best will be a good deal better than mine. The lessons are just awful
hard; it's no use talking."

"They are hard, Shorty, and no mistake. But you'll get used to them all
right," rejoined Bert, cheerfully.

"I guess I'll get used to being kept in and getting whipped, first,"
grumbled Frank.

"Not a bit of it," Bert insisted. "You just stick at them and you'll
come out all right."

The fact of the matter was, that poor Frank did find the lessons a
little more than he could manage, and there were a good many more "V
B's" and "Med's" opposite his name than "B's." He was a restless sort of
a chap, moreover, and noisy in his movements, thus often causing Mr.
Snelling to look at him, and call out sharply:

"Bowser, what are you doing there?" And Frank would instantly reply, in
a tone of indignant innocence:

"Nothing, sir."

Whereupon Mr. Snelling would turn to Dr. Johnston, with the request:

"Will you please put a mark to Bowser for doing nothing, sir?" And down
would go the black mark against poor Bowser, who, often as this
happened, seemed unable ever to learn to avoid that fatal reply:
"Nothing, sir."

CHAPTER XVIII.

SCHOOL EXPERIENCES.

By the time autumn had made way for winter, Bert felt thoroughly at home
at Dr. Johnston's, and was just about as happy a boy as attended this
renowned institution. In spite of the profound awe the doctor i