ace, staring down
before him, bent, miserable, and dejected.

"What's the matter, Bob?" I said, trying to be cheerful. "Got the
toothache?"

"Yes," he said sourly, "all over."

"Get out! What is it? Father made you take some physic?"

"Yes, pills. Verbum nasticusis, and bully draught after."

"What! Has he been scolding you?"

"Scolding me! He never does anything else. I sha'n't stand it much
longer. I shall run off to sea and be a cabin-boy."

"Hi, hi, hi!"

"What are you laughing at?" snapped Bob, turning sharply upon old
Teggley.

"At you, Mars Bob Chowne, going for a cabin-boy."

_Whop_!

That last was a severe crack given to admonish the big bony horse old
Teggley drove; but he was a merciful man to his beast, and always hit on
the pad, the collar, or the shafts.

"S'pose I like to go for a cabin-boy, 'tain't no business of yours, is
it?" cried Bob snappishly.

"Not a bit, my lad, not a bit. I'll take your sea-chest over to
Barnstaple for you when you go."

"No, you won't," grumbled Bob viciously, "for I won't have one."

"Ahoy! Bigley," I shouted, looking out from under the tilt. "Hooray
for school!"

"Aha! Look at him--look at him!" shouted Bob, whose whole manner
changed as soon as he saw Bigley's doleful face. "I say, old Grey,
here's a little boy crying because he is going back to school."

Bigley did not say anything, only gave Bob a reproachful glance as he
handed his box up to the carrier, and then climbed in.

"Gently, Mars Uggles'on," cried the old carrier, who seemed to consider
that he had a right like other people to joke Bigley about his size;
"gently, my lad, or you'll break the sharps. I didn't know I was going
to have a two-horse load."

"Look here, old Teggley Grey!" cried Bigley firing up; "if you say
another word about my being so large, I'll pitch you out of the back of
the cart, and drive into Barnstaple without you."

"Do, Bigley, do," cried Bob in ecstasy. "Here, I'll hold the reins.
Chuck him out."

"Don't talk that way, Mars Bob Chowne," whined the old man. "You
wouldn't like me to be hurt."

"Oh, just wouldn't I!" cried Bob spitefully. "Pitch him overboard,
Bigley, old boy, and hurt him as much as you can."

"No, no, you wouldn't, Mars Bob Chowne. You wouldn't like me to have to
be carried home on a wagon, and your father have to tend me for broken
bones and such."

"I tell you I would," cried Bob savagely; "and I hope you'll bite your