"Holidays will soon be over, Chowne, and we shall be rid of them."

"Yes, that's a comfort," said the doctor; and, as he turned away, I
looked appealingly at my father, who gave me a dry look, and taking it
to mean that I might go, I slipped off and went in to Ripplemouth.

I soon found Bob, sitting in a very ragged old suit, out of which he had
grown two years before, and he looked so comical with his arms far
through his sleeves, and his legs showing so long beneath his trouser
bottoms, than I burst out laughing.

"Yah! That's just like you," cried Bob viciously. "I never saw such a
chap. Got plenty of clothes, and it don't matter to you; but look at
me!"

"Well, I was looking at you," I said. "What an old guy you are!"

"Do you want me to hit you on the nose, Sep Duncan?" he said.

"Why, of course not," I said. "I came over to play, not fight. Where
are your Sunday clothes?"

"Where are they?" snarled Bob, speaking as if I had touched him on a
very sore spot. "Why, locked up in the surgery cupboard along with the
'natomy bones and the sticking-plaster roll."

"What! Has your father locked them up?"

"Yes, he has locked them up, and says he isn't going to run all over the
country seeing patients to find me in clothes to lose--just as if I
could help it."

"But haven't you been measured for some more?"

"Yes, but they won't be done yet, and father says I'm to go on wearing
these the rest of the time I'm at home."

I looked at him from top to toe as he stood before me, and it was of no
use to try to keep my countenance. I could not, and the more I tried
the more I seemed to be obliged to laugh.

As for Bob he ground his teeth and clenched his hands, but this only
made him look the more comic, and I threw myself in a chair and fairly
roared, till he came at me like an angry bull; but as I made no
resistance, only laughed, he lowered his fists.

"I can't help it, Bob; I was obliged to laugh," I cried. "There, you
may laugh at me now; but you do look so droll. Have you been out?"

"Been out? In these? Of course I haven't. How can I? No: I'm a
prisoner, and all the rest of my holiday time is going to be spoiled."

"Oh, I say, don't talk like that, old boy," I cried. "Why didn't you
keep the suit I lent you?"

"I don't want to be dependent on you for old clothes," he said
haughtily.

"Well, I'd rather wear them than those you have on, Bob. Oh, I say, you
do look rum!"

"If you say