r?"

"Other? Oh, yes, Anthony. Missionary name me Anthony."

"Anthony? Well, that's better. We can get our tongues round that.
What are you, eh? Where d'you come from, I mean?"

"I'm a Zulu."

A murmur of real interest ran through the listeners. Not so many years
had passed since the dramatic episodes of '79 but that some of the
bigger boys there, including Haviland, were old enough to remember the
war news reaching English shores, while all were more or less familiar
with it in story. And here was one of that famous nationality among
them as a schoolfellow.

"Now look here, you fellows," said the prefect, when he had put a few
more questions to the newcomer. "This chap isn't to be bullied, d'you
see, because he doesn't happen to be like everybody else. Give him a
fair show and see what he's made of, and he'll come out all right I
expect."

"Please, Haviland, he cheeked Jarnley," cut in a smaller boy who was one
of the last-named's admirers.

"Small wonder if he did," was the uncompromising answer. "Now clear
inside all of you, for you're blocking the way, and it's time for
call-over. Who'll ring the bell for me?"

"I will!" shouted half a dozen voices; for Haviland was prefect of the
week, and as such responsible for the due ringing of the calling-over
bell, an office almost invariably performed by deputy. There was no
difficulty in finding such; incipient human nature being as willing to
oblige a very real potentate as the developed and matured article.

It was half term at Saint Kirwin's--which accounted for the arrival of a
new boy in the middle of the term. Now, Saint Kirwin's was not a
first-rate public school, but it was run as nearly as possible upon the
lines of one. We say as nearly as possible, because the material was so
essentially different. There was no such thing as the putting down of
names for the intending pupil, what time that interesting entity was in
the red and squalling phase of existence. At Saint Kirwin's they would
take anybody's son, provided the said anybody was respectable, and
professed to belong to the Established Church; and whereas the terms
were excessively moderate, well--they got anybody's son. There was,
however, a fair sprinkling of those who but for the shallowness of the
parental purse would have been at Eton or Harrow or some kindred
institution--among whom was Haviland, but the majority was composed of
those at whom the more venerable foundations wou