ue with glowing force that it would stand
that and more; and Fillet would put the opposing case with
irritating contumacy.

This morning he was late; the corridors nowhere echoed the rattle of
his cash-box. So it occurred to me to entertain the crowd with a
little imitation of Fillet. Seating myself at his desk, I frowned at
a nervous junior, and addressed him thus:

"N-now, my boy, how much b-b-bank do you want? Shilling? B-b-bank
won't stand it. T-take sixpence. Sixpence not enough? Take ninepence
and run away."

The Bramhallites enjoyed my impersonation.

"N-now, Moles--White, I mean--how much b-b-bank do you want? Two
shillings? B-bank won't stand it. Take three halfpence--take it,
Moles, and toddle away."

There were roars of laughter, and a grin from White like the smile
of a brontosaurus.

"N-now, Doe, you don't want any this week--you've come to pay in
some, I suppose. You--oh, damn!"

This whispered oath, accompanied by a dismayed stare at the door,
turned the heads of all in that direction. Fillet, in his carpet
slippers, had come round the corner and was an interested critic of
my little imitation.

Very red, I vacated the seat to its owner and stepped down among the
boys. Without a word he took it in my stead, placed his cash-box on
the desk, and opened his book.

"N-now, White, how much b-b-bank do you want?"

Having heard this before, several boys tittered. Out of nervousness
I tittered too, and cursed myself as I did so. Fillet looked at me
as though he would have liked to repeat the flogging he had given me
many years before. But the blushing boy in front of him was now
seventeen, and taller than he.

When the last account had been duly debited, the Bramhallites
dispersed to their classes. Throughout that day the incident was a
painful recollection for me. I felt I could beat Fillet with cleaner
weapons than an exploiting of his affliction: and the more I thought
of it, the more I decided that I must go and apologise to him. The
sentence to be used crystallised in my mind: "Please, sir, I came to
say I was sorry I was imitating you this morning."

With this little offering I walked in the fall of the evening
upstairs to his study. My knock eliciting a "C-come in," I entered
and began:

"Please, sir, I came to say--" I got no further, for, with a sour
look, he interrupted testily:

"Run away, b-boy, run away."

This rejection of my apology I had never contemplated, and it was
with a