y're calling for the bread and butter. You
look under your pillows when you go to bed."

"It's all right," said Mercer. "Come along. She came from our town,
and knows our people. My father set her brother-in-law's leg once,
after he'd tumbled off a hay stack. Isn't she a gruff one when she
likes! This way. Let's get in our places now."

We went in to tea, which was only tea for Mr Rebble, who had a small
black pot to himself, and a tiny jug of cream; but the bread and butter
and milk and water were delicious, and I had made so good a meal that I
had forgotten all about our visit to the cook till we had been in bed
some time. I was just dozing off to sleep, when I was roused up by
Mercer's hand laid across my mouth.

"Don't speak," he whispered; "the others are asleep. Boiled beef
sandwiches in a paper bag, and two jam puffs."

"What?" I whispered. "Where?"

"Here--in my fist. They were tucked under my pillow. Now, then, pitch
in."

I sat up in bed, and Mercer sat up in his. It was so dark that we could
hardly see each other, but the darkness was no hindrance to our eating,
and the next minute there was a sound which may be best expressed as
ruminating, varied by the faint rustle made by a hand gliding into a
paper bag, followed after a long interval by a faint sigh, and--

"Good-night."

"Good-night."

"Think we shall catch cold?"

"I hope not."

"If we do, I've got some capital stuff in a bottle to cure colds, and
I'll give you some."

"Thank you," I said, and there was a pause.

"Are you asleep?" I said after a time, during which I had lain thinking
about our experience of the day.

"No."

"What are you thinking about?"

"I was wondering whether Mr and Mrs Jem Roff ate all that eel."

Mercer did not say any more just then, and I seemed to glide back into
the cottage, where Mrs Roff was frying eel in a pan over the fire, and
just as they had asked me to supper, and I was taking my place, a big
bell began to ring, and Mercer shouted,--

"Now, Burr junior, time to get up."

I started and looked round, to see that the sunshine was flooding the
room, and that the occupants of the other beds were sitting up grinding
their knuckles into their eyes, and yawning as if in chorus.

CHAPTER SIX.

We were none the worse for our adventure at the pond, and I very soon
settled down to my school life, finding it, as life is, a mixture of
pleasure and pain, joy and sorrow, all just as int