Hazelwood, but Cockles. Here, Cockles, shy up the ball.'

'You will please keep your impudence to yourself,' said Horace, in such a grand tone that all the other boys burst out laughing, and shouted out 'Cockles! Cockles!' 'I won't play with you any more,' said Horace angrily, and walked away in the sulks.

A few minutes' reflection showed him how foolish he had been. If he had only laughed at Matthews' joke, no more would probably have been heard of it; while now his showing annoyance at it would just make the boys inclined to tease him. And, indeed, the nickname of 'Cockles' stuck to Horace for a long time, and caused him a great deal of vexation, especially when he remembered that it was his own fault.

This was only one of other little things which caused his schoolfellows to look upon Horace as sulky and disagreeable, a character which he was far from wishing to deserve.

Then before long, by means of little things, he got into the bad opinion of his masters. At first he set out with the desire to be very diligent and attentive, but before long found himself yielding to all sorts of temptations to idleness, which looked like little things until they had done a great deal of mischief.

For instance: A tutor, a certain Mr Willis, came in the evening to hear the boys repeat their lessons. Mr Willis was very careful and conscientious in performing his duty; but unfortunately he was unused to boys, and easily imposed upon. The first night on which they had a lesson in Latin grammar, Rawlett showed Horace an old grammar of which the leaves were loose.

'We don't need to learn it at all,' he said. 'Old Willis is as blind as a bat, and, besides, never lifts his eyes from the book; so if I lay this leaf on my knee, I can say off the lesson quite easily. So don't bother yourself about learning it.'

Horace was not very sure about this, for as yet he could

not bring himself to such deceit, but still he had not courage to tell Rawlett so boldly.

'I think I'll learn it,' he said hesitatingly. "It's quite lesson.'

an easy

This was not true, for Horace had just been thinking what a horribly difficult lesson it was.

'As you like,' said Rawlett, taking a story-book out of his pocket and beginning to read, while Horace spent a weary half hour in hammering away at a provokingly irregular verb.

When Mr Willis came, Rawlett said off his grammar lesson without a mistake; while Horace floundered rather unsuccessfully through his, being helped a little by Rawlett, who two or three times whispered a word into his ear.

'If you will take the trouble to learn off that stuff,' said Rawlett, 'you may at least look at the paper when you break down. To-morrow night I will hold the leaf so as you can see it.'

Horace resolved that he would not look at it; but when next night came, and he once more broke down in his grammar, this time not at all carefully learned, and Mr Willis was beginning to frown and to say, 'I must really report your idleness to Mr Dunning,' then Horace forgot his resolution, and looked down at the leaf, by the help of which he scrambled through the rest of the lesson. His conscience reproached him for it afterwards; but he tried to quiet his conscience by thinking that this was a little thing, and that he would not do it again. Horace, like many other boys and men, did not know how difficult it is to stop sinning when we have once begun.

Next evening Mr Dunning promised to let Maxwell take the boys to a menagerie, at which the Hazelwoods were greatly delighted; for, living in the country, they had never had an opportunity of seeing anything of the kind before. So excited about it was Horace, that he spent half the time when he should have been learning his lessons in fancying the wonders of the menagerie, and drawing over his books imaginary pictures of lions

and tigers at least they were intended for lions and tigers, though they might have stood for any other animal having four legs and a tail. Therefore it will be imagined that Horace was rather ill pleased with himself when Mr Dunning came into the room, saying

'Now, boys, don't be idle; Mr Willis will be here in half an hour, and whoever can't say his lessons can't go to the menagerie.'

Horace was immediately seized with great alarm; for he had scarcely learned one of his lessons as yet, quite forgetting Mr Willis in his excitement about the menagerie. And now to his dismay, he found that he could never get finished in half an hour, and therefore would not be allowed to go with the other boys.

'What shall I do?' he said, confiding his troubles to Rawlett.

'Won't have time! Nonsense. You'll have lots of time to get up all your lessons except the grammar, and for that you can look on my leaf, you know.'

Horace hesitated; but the temptation was too strong for him. That evening he said his lesson off the leaf, which Rawlett slipped into his hand when his turn The two boys, it must be understood, sat at the other side of a high table opposite Mr Willis, so that he did not see what they were about.

came.

'I won't do it again,' thought Horace; 'and it's no great harm to do it only once in a way.'

But Horace did it again, and then again, every time led to it by a smaller temptation, till at length he gave up trying to learn his grammar lesson honestly; and once having got into the way of being idle over one lesson, became idle over all, so that he sunk down to the foot of the class, from which he had showed that he was able to rise if he liked, and was set down by the masters as a hopeless case. If some one of them had taken him in hand, and urged him on by judicious advice and watching, Horace might have got rid of the idle habits into which he was falling. But when masters have a class of seventy

or eighty boys to teach, it is almost impossible that they can feel any special interest in any particular one; so Horace was left to himself at the lower end of the class, getting punished, after a little while, nearly every day.

Horace no more succeeded in making himself liked by the other boys at Mr Dunning's than by his classmates and masters. He had a hot, disagreeable temper, which he was not careful enough to check in little things, and thus often gave offence. Then he was, or seemed to be very friendly with Rawlett, and Rawlett was very much disliked by the other boys, though they feared him. For one thing, he was a great bully. After lessons were over, the boys were left quite to themselves in the schoolroom; and then Rawlett took a delight in practising all sorts of petty cruelties on the three little boys, Willy, Sydney, and Harry, Charley and Horace often aiding him, though from very different reasons. Charley was a bit of a bully, because he was one of those boys who, without being exactly cruel, take a great delight either in suffering or inflicting pain. When he helped to thrash a small boy with a strap, he thought the whole affair was a capital piece of fun on both sides, and would scarcely believe that the small boy thought otherwise till he began to cry. Horace at first bullied the little boys, because he thought that it was the proper thing for a boy of his age to do if he wished to be respected by them-not that he was naturally unkind. So, from Rawlett's cruelty, Charley's thoughtlessness, and Horace's folly, the younger boys led rather a hard life of it in the evenings. Maxwell would have prevented all this, but Maxwell was allowed to sit in the library, and seldom came into the schoolroom. next eldest boy was Tommy; and though Tommy was too good-natured to be a bully himself, he was too lazy and stupid to do more than say, 'Oh, Rawlett, I say, look here--it's too bad-that's enough!' or some other feeble remonstrance when one of the small boys had been rather severely handled.

The

Rawlett took an especial delight in bullying Harry, and

at first Horace had made a point of never interfering on his brother's behalf, lest Rawlett should laugh at him for it. Horace was trying his best to be thought bold and manly, but really he was a terrible coward; for though he knew Rawlett to be a bad boy, he was afraid of nothing so much as being laughed at by him.

But Rawlett's persecution of Harry became so incessant, that Horace, who saw his little brother in tears nearly every evening, got a little indignant, and at one time very nearly had a serious quarrel with Rawlett about it.

One night Harry was complaining of chilblains, and had taken off his shoe and stocking to show his foot to Sydney, when Rawlett said,

'I know a capital thing for chilblains. Takes them away at once.'

'I wish you would tell me, then,' said Harry. 'What is it?'

'Red-hot poker,' answered Rawlett, catching Harry by the collar and dragging him forward to the fireplace.

'What are you going to do? Oh, Rawlett, let me go!' 'I am going to cure you of your chilblains, my little dear,' said Rawlett, putting the poker between the bars. 'Oh, please don't. Don't, Rawlett. You will burn me!'

If you make such a row, I will put you into the fire altogether,' said Rawlett, holding him fast.

When the poker was heated, Rawlett drew it out; and putting Harry's foot on his knee, pretended to be about to burn it, and amused himself by witnessing the little boy's terror.

Horace felt angry, but had not quite made up his mind to interfere, when Rawlett, tired of this tame amusement, contrived (he said that it was by accident) to give Harry's foot a touch with the hot iron.

Harry screamed out so loud that Rawlett hastily let him go, dropped the poker, and ran to shut the door, lest Mr Dunning should hear, and come to see what was