s great height, his
merry laugh, the variety of walking-sticks he brought with him, and his
very funny way of explaining pictures. He was not a very methodical
teacher, and was rather apt to give unexpected lessons on subjects in
which he happened just then to be interested himself; but he had a clear
simple way of explaining anything, which impressed it on the memory, and
he took a great deal of pains in his own way. Bill was especially
devoted to him. He often wished that Master Arthur could get very rich,
and take him for his man-servant; he thought he should like to brush his
clothes and take care of his sticks. He had a great interest in the
growth of his mustache and whiskers. For some time past Master Arthur
had had a trick of pulling at his upper lip while he was teaching; which
occasionally provoked a whisper of "Moostarch, guvernor!" between two
unruly members of his class; but never till to-night had Bill seen
anything in that line which answered his expectations. Now, however, as
he stood before the young gentleman, the fire-light fell on such a
distinct growth of hair, that Bill's interest became absorbed to the
exclusion of all but the most perfunctory attention to the lesson on
hand. Would Master Arthur grow a beard? Would his mustache be short like
the pictures of Prince Albert, or long and pointed like that of some
other great man whose portrait he had seen in the papers? He was
calculating on the probable effect of either style, when the order was
given to put away books, and then the thought which had been for a time
diverted came back again,--his walk home.

Poor Bill! his fears returned with double force from having been for a
while forgotten. He dawdled over the books, he hunted in wrong places
for his cap and comforter, he lingered till the last boy had clattered
through the door-way and left him with the group of elders who closed
the proceedings and locked up the school. But after this, further delay
was impossible. The whole party moved out into the moonlight, and the
Rector and his son, the schoolmaster and the teachers, commenced a
sedate parish gossip, while Bill trotted behind, wondering whether any
possible or impossible business would take one of them his way. But when
the turning-point was reached, the Rector destroyed all his hopes.

"None of us go your way, I think," said he, as lightly as if there were
no grievance in the case; "however, it's not far. Good-night, my boy!"

And so wi