had a chance to look in a glass, and, as
my face ached and felt tight, I imagined terrible black eyes, a horribly
swollen nose, and that my top lip was puffed out to a large size. In
fact, I felt that I must be in that state; and as I glanced at Mercer, I
was surprised to see that he hardly showed a mark. Lastly, I could not
get on with my dinner, because my mouth would not open and shut
properly, while every attempt to move my lower jaw sidewise gave me
intense pain.

I was in hopes that this was not noticed, and to get over the difficulty
of being seen with my plate of meat untouched, I furtively slipped two
slices, a potato, and a piece of bread under the table, where I knew
that the two cats would be foraging according to their custom.

I thought the act was not noticed, but the boy on my right had been
keenly watching me.

"Can't you eat your dinner?" he whispered.

There was no other course open save making a paltry excuse, so I said
gruffly,--

"Never mind, old chap," he said, to my surprise. "Lots of us laugh at
you, but--. I say, don't tell 'em I said so."

"I don't sneak and tell tales," I said morosely.

"No, of course you wouldn't. I was going to say lots of us laugh at
you, but lots of us wish you and Senna Tea had given those two bullies
an awful licking."

"Thank-ye," I said, for these words were quite cheering, and I glanced
at Mercer, who was fiddling his dinner about, and cutting the
pink-looking cold boiled beef up in very small squares.

"Can't you get on?" I whispered.

"No. 'Tain't likely; but just you wait."

"What for?"

"Never mind!"

The dinner went on, with the clattering of knives and forks upon plates,
and, the meat being ended, the pudding came along, round, stodgy slices,
with glittering bits of yellow suet in it, and here and there a raisin,
or plum, as we called it, playing at bo-peep with those on the other
side,--"Spotted Dog," we used to call it,--and I got on a little better,
for it was nice and warm and sweet, from the facts that the Doctor never
stinted us boys in our food, and that, while the cook always said she
hated all boys, she contrived to make our dinners tasty and good.

"Try the pudding," I whispered to Mercer.

"Shan't. I should like to shy it bang in old Burr major's face."

"Oh, never mind."

"But I do mind; but just you wait!"

"Well, I am waiting," I said. "Why don't you tell me what you mean?"

Mercer was silent.

"I say!"

"We