t Eric
could not help joining in the general titter Barker scowled.

"As usual, Barker," said the master, with a curl of the lip. "Hold out
your hand!"

Barker did so, looking sullen defiance, and the cane immediately
descended on his open palm. Six similar cuts followed, during which the
form looked on, not without terror; and Barker, squeezing his hands
tight together, went back to his seat.

"Williams, translate the piece in which Barker has just failed!"

Eric did as he was bid, and got through it pretty well. He had now quite
recovered his ordinary bearing, and spoke out clearly and without
nervousness. He afterwards won several places by answering questions,
and at the end of the lesson was marked about half-way up the form. The
boys' numbers were then taken down in the weekly register, and they went
back to their seats.

On his desk Eric found a torn bit of paper, on which was clumsily
scrawled, "I'll teach you to grin when I'm turned, you young brute."

The paper seemed to fascinate his eyes. He stared at it fixedly, and
augured ominously of Barker's intentions, since that worthy obviously
alluded to his having smiled in form, and chose to interpret it as an
intentional provocation. He felt that he was in for it, and that Barker
meant to pick a quarrel with him. This puzzled and annoyed him, and he
felt very sad to have found an enemy already.

While he was looking at the paper, the great school-clock struck twelve;
and the captain of the form getting up, threw open the folding-doors of
the school-room.

"You may go," said Mr. Gordon; and leaving his seat disappeared by a
door at the further end of the room.

Instantly there was a rash for caps, and the boys poured out in a
confused and noisy stream, while at the same moment the other
school-rooms disgorged their inmates. Eric naturally went out among the
last; but just as he was going to take his cap, Barker seized it, and
flung it with a whoop to the end of the passage, where it was trampled
on by a number of the boys as they ran out.

Eric, gulping down his fury with a great effort, turned to his opponent,
and said coolly, "Is that what you always do to new fellows?"

"Yes, you bumptious young owl, it is, and that too;" and a tolerably
smart slap on the face followed--leaving a red mark on a cheek already
aflame with, anger and indignation,--"should you like a little more?"

He was hurt, both mind and body, but was too proud to cry. "What's that