r, uncle?"

"What of him?"

"He should not have told about me."

"Don't call him `Prater the third,' however. Bear your own share, as I
said to Phil, and don't meddle with another's."

Perhaps Mr Shaw hoped that through one of the boys the usher would get
a new nick-name for his ill-nature in telling tales of a little boy,
before he was so much as seen by his companions. He certainly put it
into their heads, whether they would make use of it or not.

Mr Tooke was out, taking his evening ride; but Mr Shaw would not drive
off till he had seen Mrs Watson, and introduced his younger nephew to
her, observing to her that he was but a little fellow to come among such
a number of rough boys. Mrs Watson smiled kindly at Hugh, and said she
was glad he had a brother in the school, to prevent his feeling lonely
at first. It would not take many days, she hoped, to make him feel
quite at home. Mr Shaw slipped half-a-crown into Hugh's hand, and
whispered to him to try to keep it safe in his inner pocket Hugh ran
after him to the door, to tell him he had five shillings already--safe
in his box: but his uncle would not take back the half-crown. He
thought that, in course of time, Hugh would want all the money he had.

Mrs Watson desired Phil to show his brother where he was to sleep, and
to help him to put by his clothes. Phil was in a hurry to get to his
Sallust; so that he was not sorry when Mrs Watson herself came up to
see that the boy's clothes were laid properly in the deep drawer in
which Hugh was to keep his things. Phil then slipped away.

"Dear me!" said Mrs Watson, turning over one of Hugh's new collars, "we
must have something different from this. These collars tied with a
black ribbon are never tidy. They are always over one shoulder or the
other."

"My sisters made them; and they worked so hard to get them done!" said
Hugh.

"Very well--very right: only it is a pity they are not of a better make.
Every Sunday at church, I shall see your collar awry--and every time
you go to your aunt's, she will think we do not make you neat. I must
see about that. Here are good stockings, however--properly stout. My
dear, are these all the shoes you have got?"

"I have a pair on."

"Of course; I don't doubt that. We must have you measured to-morrow for
some boots fitter for the country than these. We have no London
pavement here."

And so Mrs Watson went on, sometimes approving and sometimes
criticising, til