him up to one end of the ranks,
where Tipping had by this time sufficiently recovered to be able to "set
him going," as he chose to call it, with a fairly effective kick.

After that he had a confused sense of flying madly along the double line
of avengers under a hail of blows which caught him on every part of his
head, shoulders, and back till he reached the end, where he was
dexterously turned and sent spinning up to Tipping again, who in his
turn headed him back on his arrival, and forced him to brave the
terrible lane once more.

Never before had Mr. Bultitude felt so sore and insulted. But they kept
it up long after the thing had lost its first freshness--until at last
exhaustion made them lean to mercy, and they cuffed him ignominiously
into a corner, and left him to lament his ill-treatment there till the
bell rang for dinner, for which, contrary to precedent, his recent
violent exercise had excited little appetite.

"I shall be killed soon if I stay here," he moaned; "I know I shall.
These young brigands would murder me cheerfully, if they were not
afraid of being caned for it. I'm a miserable man, and I wish I was
dead!"

Although that afternoon, being Saturday, was a half-holiday, Mr.
Bultitude was spared the ordeal of another game at football; for a smart
storm of rain and sleet coming on about three o'clock kept the
school--not altogether unwilling prisoners--within doors for the day.

The boys sat in their places in their schoolroom, amusing themselves
after their several fashions--some reading, some making libellous copies
of drawings that took their fancy in the illustrated papers, some
playing games; others, too listless to play and too dull to find
pleasure in the simplest books, filled up the time as well as they could
by quarrelling and getting into various depths of hot water. Paul sat in
a corner pretending to read a story relating the experiences of certain
infants of phenomenal courage and coolness in the Arctic regions. They
killed bears and tamed walruses all through the book; but for the first
time, perhaps, since their appearance in print their exploits fell flat.
Not, however, that this reflected any discredit upon the author's
powers, which are justly admired by all healthy-minded boys; but it was
beyond the power of literature just then to charm Mr. Bultitude's
thoughts from the recollection of his misfortunes.

As he took in all the details of his surroundings--the warm close room;