hurry," said Wilkins, in a
low tone.

When all the boys were served, Socrates Smith, who sat in an armchair at
the head of the table, said:

"Boys, we are now about to partake of the bounties of Providence, let me
hope, with grateful hearts."

He touched a hand bell, and the boys took up their soup spoons.

Hector put a spoonful gingerly into his mouth, and then, stopping short,
looked at Wilkins. His face was evidently struggling not to express
disgust.

"Is it always as bad?" he asked, in a whisper.

"Yes," answered Wilkins, shrugging his shoulders.

"But you eat it!"

Wilkins had already swallowed his third spoonful.

"I don't want to starve," answered Wilkins, significantly. "You'll get
used to it in time."

Hector tried to dispose of a second spoonful, but he had to give it up.
At home he was accustomed to a luxurious table, and this meal seemed to
be a mere mockery. Yet he felt hungry. So he took up the piece of bread
at the side of his plate, and, though it was dry, he succeeded in eating
it.

By this time his left-hand neighbor, a boy named Colburn, had finished
his soup. He looked longingly at Hector's almost untasted plate.

"Ain't you going to eat your soup?" he asked, in a hoarse whisper

"No."

"Give it to me?"

"Yes."

In a trice, Colburn had appropriated Hector's plate and put his own
empty one in its place. Just after this transfer had been made, Mr.
Smith looked over to where Hector was sitting. He observed the empty
plate, and said to himself: "That new boy has been gorging himself. He
must have a terrible appetite. Well, that's one good thing, he ain't
dainty. Some boys turn up their noses at plain, wholesome diet. I didn't
know but he might."

Presently the hand bell rang again, and the soup plates were removed. In
their places were set dinner plates, containing a small section each of
corned beef, with a consumptive-looking potato, very probably "soggy."
At any rate, this was the case with Hector's. He succeeded in eating the
meat, but not the potato.

"Give me your potato?" asked his left-hand neighbor.

"Yes."

It was quickly appropriated. Hector looked with some curiosity at the
boy who did so much justice to boarding-school fare. He was a thin, pale
boy, who looked as if he had been growing rapidly, as, indeed, he had.
This, perhaps, it was that stimulated his appetite. Afterward Hector
asked him if he really liked his meals.

"No," he said; "they're nasty."

He