ious.

"Me too!" cried The Seraph, and I held it to his eager little mouth.

"Here," said Angel angrily, "he's swiggin' down the whole thing. Drop it,
young'un!"

At the same moment, the door opened quietly, and Mrs. Handsomebody entered.
I tore the bottle from The Seraph's clinging lips, and stuffed it,
corkless, into my pocket.

Mrs. Handsomebody sat down and disposed her skirt about her knees. Her eyes
travelled over us.

"Alexander," she said to The Seraph, "stand up." He meekly rose.

"What is that on your chin?"

The Seraph explored his chin with his tongue.

"It tastes sweet," he said.

"I asked what is it?"

The Seraph shot an imploring glance at Angel.

"I fink," he hedged, "it's some of the gwavy fwom dinner left over."

Mrs. Handsomebody turned to Angel and me.

"Stand up," she commanded, sternly, "and we shall sift this matter to the
root."

"Yes," admitted Angel, nonchalantly. "It was licorice root made into a
drink."

"Licorice root," repeated our governess, in a tone of disgust. "It is by
imbibing such vile concoctions that the taste for more ardent spirits is
created. When I was your age, I had taken no beverage save milk and hot
water, from which I graduated naturally to weak tea, and from thence to
the--er--stronger brew. I am at present your guardian as well as your
teacher and I shall do my utmost to eradicate--"

It was impossible to follow her discourse because of the keen discomfort I
was feeling as the remainder of the licorice water trickled down my right
leg. I was brought up with a start by Mrs. Handsomebody almost shouting:

"John! What is that puddle on the floor beneath you? Don't move! Stay where
you are." She sprang to my side and grasped my shoulder.

"I s'pose it's some more of the woot," giggled The Seraph.

I put my hand in my pocket and produced the empty bottle. Mrs. Handsomebody
took it between her thumb and forefinger. She gave me a sharp rap on the
head with it.

"Now," she gobbled, "go to your room and remain there till the exercises
are over, then return to me for punishment. _And_ change your trousers."

II

My trousers had been changed. Afternoon school was over, and I had just
finished the last weary line in the long imposition set by Mrs.
Handsomebody. I stretched my cramped limbs, and wondered dully where my
brothers were. My depression was increased by the fact that the
freshly-donned trousers were brown tweed, while my jacket was of blue
se