in "us," while Mercer half turned his head towards me.

"A little less noise at your end of the school, Mr Rebble, if you
please," said the Doctor blandly.

"Yes, sir," said Mr Rebble, and then, in a low, severe voice, "Mercer,
Burr junior, come up."

Mercer threw his leg over the form, and I followed his example,
involuntarily glancing across at my namesake, who made a grimace, and
gave himself a writhe, as if suggesting that I should have a cut from
the cane after being reported to the Doctor, and I knew that he was
watching us both as we went up to the usher's desk.

"Close up, both of you," said Mr Rebble sternly, but in a low voice, so
that his words should not reach the Doctor.

We moved closer.

"Now, sir," he said sternly, "I called for silence twice, and you,
Mercer, and you, Burr junior, both kept on speaking. I distinctly saw
your lips moving--both of you. Now, sir, I insist upon your repeating
the words you said as I caught your eye."

"Subtending the right angle, sir," said Mercer promptly.

"And you, sir?" continued Mr Rebble, turning to me.

"_Idus, quercus, ficus, manus_, sir," I replied innocently.

"That will do. Go back to your places, and if I do catch you talking
again in school hours--"

"Please, sir, that wasn't talking," said Mercer in expostulation.

"Silence, sir. I say, if I do catch you talking, I shall report you to
the Doctor. That will do."

We went demurely enough back to our places, and this summons had the
effect upon me of making me feel more ill-used than before. As I once
more went on with my Latin, I was conscious that Mercer was writing
something on his slate, and when it was done, he wetted his hand, and
gave me a nudge, for me to read what he had written.

"He don't like you, because we're friends. He don't like me. Yah! Who
don't know how to fish?"

I had barely read this, when Mercer's hand rapidly obliterated the
words, and only just in time, for Mr Rebble left his desk and came
slowly by us, glancing over our shoulders as he passed, but Mercer was
safe, for he had rapidly formed a right-angled triangle on his slate,
and was carefully finishing a capital A, as the usher passed on up to
the Doctor's end.

Those mornings glided away, and so slowly that it seemed as if the
mid-day bell would never ring, but its sonorous tones rang through the
place at last, and, hanging back, so as not to be called upon to form
part of those who would have to go and f