ich was not so much based upon any knowledge of
Nestie's literary qualifications as on the strange friendship between
Nestie and his promising son. As the respectable Free Kirk elder who sat
next Mr. McGuffie did not respond to this friendly offer, Mr. McGuffie
put a straw in his mouth and timed the arrival of the Provost.

[Illustration: "BEFORE THE HOUR THE HALL WAS PACKED."]

When that great dignitary, attended by the bailies and masters, together
with the notables of Muirtown, appeared on the platform, the boys
availed themselves of the license of the day, shouting, cheering,
yelling, whistling and bombarding all and sundry with pellets of paper
shot with extraordinary dexterity from little elastic catapults, till at
last Bulldog, who in the helplessness of the Rector always conducted the
proceedings, rose and demanded silence for the Provost, who explained at
wide intervals that he was glad to see his young friends (howls from the
boys) and also their respected parents (fresh howls, but not from the
parents); that he was sure the fathers and mothers were proud of their
boys to-day (climax of howls); that he had once been a boy himself
(unanimous shout of "No" from the boys); that he had even fought in a
snowball fight (loud expressions of horror); that he was glad the
Seminary was flourishing (terrific outburst, during which the Provost's
speech came to an end, and Bulldog rose to keep order).

One by one the prize-winners were called up from the side of their fond
parents, and if they were liked and had won their prizes with the
goodwill of their fellows, each one received an honest cheer which was
heartier and braver than any other cheer of the day, and loud above it
sounded the voice of Speug, who, though he had never received a prize in
his life, and never would, rejoiced when a decent fellow like Dunc
Robertson, the wicket-keeper of the eleven and the half-back of the
fifteen, showed that he had a head as well as hands. When a prig got too
many prizes there was an eloquent silence in the hall, till at last a
loud, accurate and suggestive "Ma-a-a-a!" from Speug relieved the
feelings of the delighted school, and the unpopular prize-winner left
the platform amid the chorus of the farmyard--cows, sheep, horses, dogs,
cats and a triumphant ass all uniting to do him honour. It was their
day, and Bulldog gave them their rights, provided they did not continue
too long, and every boy believed that Bulldog had the same