Part 25 (2/2)

”Not badly answered,” observed Mr Tugman. ”Now I will show you the schoolroom before they come in, and select a desk, so that you may make yourself at home at once.”

Going down a few steps, Digby found himself in a large and lofty room, or hall, lighted by lamps from the ceiling, with rows of desks across it, and two large fire-places at the sides towards each end. At one end was a high desk, and there were five or six smaller desks, intended for the masters, down the hall, flanking the rows, as the sergeants stand in a regiment, drawn up on parade. The hall ran at right angles to the back of the house, by the side of the playground, and had evidently been built for a schoolroom.

Mr Tugman took Digby to the further end, where his own desk was, and lifting up several in one of the last rows, he came to one which was entirely empty.

”Seventy is the number, is it not?” he asked, going to his own desk.

”Now, take this key, lock up whatever you like. I dare say you have some good things in your play-box, or valuables of some sort; put them there, and make yourself at home.”

Scarcely had these arrangements been concluded, when a bell rang, and the boys came trooping into the schoolroom. He was fairly caught, like a mouse in a trap. At first he was not perceived; but it was soon buzzed about, that the new boy was there, and he was quickly saluted by--

”How do you do, Master Digby Heathcote, son of Squire Heathcote, of Bloxholme Hall?”

”Pretty well, I thank you, young gentlemen,” answered Digby, determined not to be outdone, and resolved to put a bold face on the matter. ”I shall be happy to make the acquaintance of any of those who will favour me with their cards, and an account of their own family, parentage, and connexions.”

”He is a pert little chap,” observed one. ”Plenty of impudence in him,”

said another. ”A plucky little c.o.c.k, though, I think,” remarked a fourth. Opinions among the bigger fellows varied considerably as to his character, and how he was to be treated.

Seldom is there a school without a bully, and Grangewood was no exception to the rule. The chief bully was a big, hulking fellow, called Scarborough. He remarked, ”That there was a great deal to be taken out of the little c.o.c.k, and that he purposed having the satisfaction of taking it.”

”I'm in the habit of giving small change, remember that,” said Digby, who had overheard the remark--as it had been intended he should.

Scarborough turned white with rage on this being said; and would then and there have inflicted condign punishment on the daring upstart, had not the bell rang, and the boys been called to order by Mr Yates, the head usher, who, entering Mr Sanford's desk, a.s.sumed command in the evening. He only deferred doing so, however, till another opportunity.

The little fellows, and those about Digby's own age, listened with eager and surprised ears to what he said; and at once looked upon him as one likely to prove their champion. In a very short time he had made a number both of friends and foes; but, curiously enough, he knew none of them by sight, as he could only distinguish the countenances of the few who sat immediately about him. They being mostly about his age, and having suffered from the tyranny of Scarborough, were inclined to side with him.

As, of course, he had nothing to do, he was able to sit quiet, and observe what was going forward. Each of the masters called up a cla.s.s to say lessons, while the rest of the boys had to prepare them for the following day. Books were got out, and a murmur of voices was heard through the school. A stranger coming in might have fancied that everybody was very studiously employed; but although all had piles of books before them, on a closer inspection he would have seen, as Digby did, that very few were really learning their lessons; some were drawing, others playing games, draughts, or spillikins, or dominoes, and some even had cards; many were cutting out things in card-board or wood, making models of carriages, and houses, and boats. It had become the practice of the school at that time of the evening, especially as they would have another half hour in the morning to look over the lessons they were then supposed to be learning. Digby was surprised, and thought that he had come to a very slack sort of school. He was not particularly shocked, for he could not fancy that what everybody was doing was so very wrong.

The cla.s.ses had just been dismissed, when another bell rang, and everybody hurried away out of the schoolroom. Digby, not knowing what was to take place, sat still.

”Come with me,” said a boy, who looked rather smaller than himself. ”I am delighted with the way you answered that big bully, Scarborough.

Keep up to it; don't give in, and I will stick by you. We are now going into tea. I will find a place for you near myself, and tell you all about the fellows.”

Digby was very glad to fall in at once with a friend; and he at once accepted the little boy's offer.

”My name is Paul Newland,” said his new companion, as they followed the rest into the tea-room. ”I am rather older than I look, for I am not very big; but I intend to grow some day. You will be in my cla.s.s, I suspect. I'm at the top of it, and expect to get into the sixth soon; that is, under Mr Moore, who is a very quiet sort of fellow. You must try and work up along with me. There is nothing like working, I find.

I came in at the lowest, and got up three cla.s.ses in one half year. But this is the tea-room. Come along; don't mind what fellows say.”

This was not an unnecessary caution, for Digby found himself saluted as he went along by the boys turning sharply round and saying--

”How do you do, Master Digby Heathcote, son and heir of Squire Heathcote, of Bloxholme Hall? Welcome to Grangewood House, most n.o.ble young Squire.”

It need not be said how Digby felt, but he fortunately kept his temper; nor did he lose his appet.i.te in consequence of these sarcastic greetings.

”I wish that John Pratt had not announced me in that way. Of course it would make a capital joke for the fellows,” he said to himself, as he took his seat at the table.

The boys near nodded to him, holding up their mugs of tea with mock gravity.

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