ategy to make a rush to the clear
ground in the rear of his position, calling his followers after him; and
now the Pennies gathered at the far end of the street, beaten in tactics
and in fighting, but ever strong in heart, and full of insolence.
"That," said Speug, wiping his face with his famous red handkerchief
which he carried in his trousers pocket, and hastily attending to some
of his wounds, "that wesna' bad"; and then turning to Nestie, "Ye keepit
close, my mannie." Speug's officers, such mighties as Bauldie and
Johnston, MacFarlane and Mackenzie, all bearing scars, clustered round
their commander with expressions of admiration. "Yon was a bonny twirl,
and you coupit him weel." "Sall, they've gotten their licks," while
Speug modestly disclaimed all credit, and spoke generously of the
Pennies, declaring that they had fought well, and that Redhead nearly
got the mastery.

At that moment a shout of "Seminary!" was heard in the rear of the
Pennies, and Speug knew that Duncan Robertson had driven McIntyre's the
full length of the terrace and was now fighting them in Breadalbane
Street. "Forward!" cried Speug. "Dunc's on the back of them," and
Redhead at the same moment hurriedly withdrew his forces, covering his
retreat with a shower of balls, and united with McIntyre's, who were
retiring before Robertson and the second division of the Seminaries.
Amid cries of "Seminary! Seminary!" Speug and Duncan met where the back
street opens into Breadalbane Street, and their divisions amalgamated,
exchanging notes on the battle and examining one another's personal
appearance. There was not a bonnet to be seen, and not many jackets,
which had either been left behind or thrown off or torn off in personal
conflict with the Pennies; collars may have remained, but that no one
could tell, and there were some whose waistcoats were now held by one
button. Two or three also had been compelled to drop out of active
battle and were hanging in the rear, rubbing their faces with snow and
trusting to be able to see clear enough for the final charge; and still
the juniors were making their balls and had established a new magazine
at the end of the terrace. Several of these impenitent little wretches
had themselves been in the thick of the fight, and could be seen
pointing proudly to a clout on the forehead and a cut on the lip. What a
time certain mothers would have that evening when their warriors came
home, some of them without caps, which