hours of recreation were never interfered with in fine weather. But
after the hour of "All In," as the local phrase went, when the roll was
called, and every boy had to be in for the night, an hour which varied
with the time of the year, it was different. And on this Saturday
evening Mr Cookson had some arrears of Historical Theme correction to
make up. For since history plays a considerable part in modern
competitive examinations, every boy had to read up a certain portion of
some standard work every week, and write a theme upon it, without the
book, in the pupil-room. This theme was looked over with him by his
tutor before being sent in to the head-master, and if it did not reach a
certain standard it was torn up, and he had to read the subject again
and write another one. Edwards was one of the essayists whose paper had
not yet been examined, and he stood at this tutor's elbow while he read
it over. "`After he had been some years in England Sir Elijah Impey was
tried by Doctors' Commons.'" "_House_ of Commons, boy," said Mr
Cookson, "people are not impeached at Doctors' Commons, that's where
wills are proved," and he made a correction,--"`and proved he hadn't
murdered the rajah. And so Sir Philip Francis, the author of a book
called _Junius_, the writer of which was never discovered,'"--"why,
that's a bull;" Mr Cookson could not help chuckling as he made a dash
and a correction,--"`and deaf Burke,'"--"`I never heard that he was
deaf--oh, that was another man, a prize-fighter, ho, ho, ho,
ahem!'"--"`and Burke were very much ashamed of themselves, and were
hissed, and never alluded to the subject, from which originated the
phrase of "burking the question,"'"--"Pooh, pooh, never make shots like
that:"--"`and Sir Elijah Impey was found Not Guilty, and all his
property was taken from him to pay the lawyers with.'" "Well, well, it's
not so bad," said Mr Cookson, signing his name at the bottom of the
last page. "And now, Edwards," he added, turning and looking the boy
straight in the eyes, "I have a good mind to have you flogged."

"Me, sir!" exclaimed Edwards, turning pale; "what for, sir?"

"Doctor Jolliffe does not flog for many things, but there are certain
offences he never fails to visit with the utmost severity. Smoking is
one of them."

"I assure you, sir, I have not--"

"Lying is another, so do not finish your sentence. I can smell the
stale tobacco."

And indeed Edwards was wearing the jacket in whi