ness begins to return,
after a sound night's rest in a new place which we are glad to be in,
following upon a day of unwonted excitement and exertion. There are
few pleasanter pieces of life. The worst of it is that they last such
a short time; for, nurse them as you will, by lying perfectly passive
in mind and body, you can't make more than five minutes or so of them.
After which time the stupid, obtrusive, wakeful entity[1] which we
call "I," as impatient as he is stiff-necked, spite of our teeth will
force himself back again, and take possession of us down to our very
toes.

WAKING UP; MOVEMENTS OF BOGLE.

It was in this state that Master Tom lay at half-past seven on the
morning following the day of his arrival, and from his clean little
white bed watched the movements of Bogle (the generic name[2] by which
the successive shoeblacks of the School-house were known), as he
marched round from bed to bed, collecting the dirty shoes and boots,
and depositing clean ones in their places.[3]

[1] #Entity#: being.

[2] #Generic name#: class name.

[3] "No Englishman ever blacks his own shoes," said an English
visitor to Mr. Lincoln. "Well, whose shoes does he black
then?" was the President's reply.

There he lay, half doubtful as to where exactly in the universe he
was, but conscious that he had made a step in life which he had been
anxious to make. It was only just light as he looked lazily out of the
wide windows, and saw the tops of the great elms, and the rooks
circling about, and cawing remonstrances to the lazy ones of their
commonwealth, before starting in a body for the neighboring plowed
fields. The noise of the room door closing behind Bogle, as he made
his exit with the shoe-basket under his arm, roused him thoroughly,
and he sat up in bed and looked round the room. What in the world
could be the matter with his shoulders and loins? He felt as if he had
been severely beaten all down his back, the natural results of his
performance at his first match. He drew up his knees and rested his
chin on them, and went over all the events of yesterday, rejoicing in
his new life, what he had seen of it, and all that was to come.

Presently one or two of the other boys roused themselves, and began to
sit up and talk to one another in low tones. Then East, after a roll
or two, came to an anchor, also, and, nodding to Tom, began examining
his ankle.

"What a pull,"[4] said he, "that it's lie-in-b