ually at recess and at noon by the boys, who
immediately christened him "Dutchy." He laughed and did not seem to mind
it, for his philosophy was that no words applied to him could injure
him, and so long as the boys kept their hands off he did not care.

Among the pupils was Herbert Watrous, a spruce young gentleman from the
city, who dressed better than the others, and who threw out hints about
the sparring lessons he had taken at home, and his wish that he might
soon have a chance to show his playmates how easily he could vanquish an
opponent, much larger than himself, by reason of his "science."

He was fully four years older than Nick, and much taller--a fact which
Herbert regretted as the Pennsylvania Hollander was too insignificant
for him to pick a quarrel with.

But that was no reason, as he looked at his privileges in this life, why
he should not play the tyrant and bully over the honest little fellow
and he proceeded at once to make life unbearable to Nicholas.

He began the cry of "Dutchy," and, finding that it did not disturb the
serenity of the lad, he resorted to more active measures on the way home
from school.

He began by knocking off his hat, and when Nick looked at him in a
surprised way and asked why he did it, the city youth assumed a
pugilistic attitude and answered, "Greens; what are you going to do
about it, Dutchy?"

"Be careful of him," whispered one of the boys, who felt some sympathy
for Nick in his persecutions; "he's _science_."

"I don't care vat he ain't," replied Nick, beginning to lose his temper;
"if he don't lets me be, he'll got into trouble."

Just then Nick started to overtake a lad, who tapped him on the back and
invited him to play a game of tag. As he passed close to Herbert, that
boy threw out his foot and Nick went sprawling headlong, his book and
slate flying from under his arm, while his cap shot a dozen-feet in
another direction.

The other boys broke into laughter, while several of the girls cried out
that it was a shame.

Nick picked himself up, and putting on his cap, turned about to ask
Herbert what he meant by such cruelty, when he was confronted by the
bully, who had thrown himself into his fancy pugilistic posture, and
with one eye shut and his tongue thrust out, said:

"What are you going to do about it, Dutchy?"

"I'll show you vot I do!"

CHAPTER II.

SCHOOL DAYS.

Nicholas Ribsam proceeded to show Master Herbert Watrous what he meant
t