st to their side! Real good business! I wonder where the other
new kid is? He was bound to make a mess of it. That's why I sent him
to the gymnasium; it's closed to-day."

"Hooray for the Cock-House!" shouted Ashby, as, side by side with his
now admiring patron, he entered the School Hall, where the ceremony of
club elections was just beginning.

At the door they encountered Wheatfield.

"Such games!" whispered D'Arcy, clapping him joyously on the back.
"We've got five Modern kids boxed up in our room, waiting for the clock
to strike the half-hour before they have a tuck in at our empty jam-
pots."

"Ha, ha!" said Wheatfield; "splendid joke!" and vanished.

D'Arcy's countenance suddenly turned pale as he gripped his companion by
the arm.

"What's the matter?" inquired Ashby, alarmed for his friend's health.
"What's up?"

"It's all up! We're regularly done. My, that _is_ a go!"

"Whatever do you mean?"

"Why, you blockhead, didn't you see that was the wrong Wheatfield--not
Wally, but the Modern one! And now he's gone to let those chaps out,
and we're clean done for!"

"Whew! what is to be done?" groaned Ashby, almost as pale as his friend.

CHAPTER FOUR.

A CLOSE ELECTION.

Ever since certain well-meaning governors, two years ago, had succeeded
in forcing upon Fellsgarth the adoption of a Modern side, the School had
been rent by factions whose quarrels sometimes bordered on civil war.
When people squabble about the management of a school outside, the boys
are pretty sure to quarrel and take sides against one another inside.

The old set, consisting mostly of the Classical boys, felt very sore on
the question. It was a case of sentiment, not argument. If boys, said
they, wanted to learn science and modern languages, let them; but don't
let them come fooling around at Fellsgarth and spoiling the reputation
of a good old classical school. There were plenty of schools where
fellows could be brought up in a new-fangled way. Let them go to one of
these, and leave Fellsgarth in peace to her dead authors.

The boys who used such arguments, it is fair to say, were not always the
most profound classical scholars. Most of them, like D'Arcy and Wally
Wheatfield, had a painful acquaintance with the masterpieces of old-
world literature in the way of impositions, but there their interest
frequently ended. The upper Classical boys, however, though not so
noisily hostile, had their own strong opinions