had instilled into him the principle, that whatever is
worth doing at all, is worth doing as well as it can be done. So, when
he took a hoop in his hand, he considered how he could use it to the
best advantage; and from the first, he never played with it without
endeavouring to perfect himself in some method of turning it here or
there, of stopping it suddenly, or of twirling it round.

A second time that day did Ernest's party come off victorious. Some
said that it was owing to Lemon having joined them: but Lemon himself
confessed that he had not done half as much execution as had young
Bracebridge. From that day Lemon noticed Ernest in a very marked way,
and when he spoke to him treated him as an equal in age. Some of his
first companions declared that, to a certainty, Bracebridge would be
very much cocked up by the attention shown him; but they were mistaken,
for he pursued the even tenor of his way without showing that he by any
means thought himself superior to his companions.

The Easter holidays arrived. Those who lived near enough to the school
went home; but as the boys were generally collected from widely
separated parts of England, Scotland, and Ireland, the greater number
remained. They had greater liberty than at any other time, and were
allowed to make long excursions with one of the masters, or with some of
the bigger boys who, from their good principles and steadiness, were
considered fit to be entrusted with them. Lemon was high enough in the
school to have that honour, and so Ernest and Buttar always endeavoured
to belong to his party. Lemon was very glad to have them, as he found
them more companionable than many of the bigger fellows, and he had no
difficulty in keeping them in order. Tom Bouldon was also frequently of
their party. He had tried others, but after some experience he found
their society by far the most satisfactory. Blackall, although a bully,
stood pretty well with the masters. He had cleverness sufficient to get
through his lessons with credit, and he had sense enough to keep himself
out of mischief generally. Doctor Carr now and then had uncomfortable
feelings about him. He was not altogether satisfied with his plausible
answers; nor did he like the expression of his countenance, that almost
sure indicator of the mind within. Still the Doctor hoped that he might
be mistaken, and did not forbid Blackall, who was appointed to the
office by one of the masters, to take out