, and hung his head. Pride struggled with him for
a moment, but at length he answered, "O Edwin, I fear I am getting
utterly bad; I wish I were more like you," he added, in a low sad tone.

"Dear Eric, I have no right to say it, full of faults as I am myself;
but you will be so much happier, if you try not to yield to all the bad
things round us. Remember, I know more of school than you."

The two boys strolled on silently. That night Eric knelt at his bedside,
and prayed as he had not done for many a long day.

CHAPTER IX

"DEAD FLIES," OR "YE SHALL BE AS GODS"

"In the twilight, in the evening, in the black and dark night." PROV.
vii. 9.

At Roslyn, even in summer, the hour for going to bed was half-past nine.
It was hardly likely that so many boys, overflowing with turbulent life,
should lie down quietly, and get to sleep. They never dreamt of doing
so. Very soon after the masters were gone, the sconces were often
relighted, sometimes in separate dormitories, sometimes in all of them,
and the boys amused themselves by reading novels or making a row. They
would play various games about the bedrooms, vaulting or jumping over
the beds, running races in sheets, getting through the windows upon the
roofs, to frighten the study-boys with sham ghosts, or playing the
thousand other pranks which suggested themselves to the fertile
imagination of fifteen. But the favorite amusement was a bolstering
match. One room would challenge another, and, stripping the covers off
their bolsters, would meet in mortal fray. A bolster well wielded,
especially when dexterously applied to the legs, is a very efficient
instrument to bring a boy to the ground; but it doesn't hurt very much,
even when the blows fall on the head. Hence these matches were excellent
trials of strength and temper, and were generally accompanied with
shouts of laughter, never ending until one side was driven back to its
own room. Many a long and tough struggle had Eric enjoyed, and his
prowess was so universally acknowledged, that his dormitory, No. 7, was
a match for any other, and far stronger in this warfare than most of the
rest. At bolstering, Duncan was a perfect champion; his strength and
activity were marvellous, and his mirth uproarious. Eric and Graham
backed him up brilliantly; while Llewellyn and Attlay, with sturdy
vigor, supported the skirmishers. Bull, the sixth boy in No. 7, was the
only _faineant_ among them, though he did occasionally help