ness and plainness of
speech, so blurted out, as he walked by the Doctor's side, who had
already turned back,--

"Yes, sir, generally. But I thought you wished us to exercise a
discretion in the matter too--not to interfere too soon."

"But they have been fighting this half-hour and more," said the Doctor.

"Yes, sir; but neither was hurt. And they're the sort of boys who'll be
all the better friends now, which they wouldn't have been if they had
been stopped, any earlier--before it was so equal."

"Who was fighting with Brown?" said the Doctor.

"Williams, sir, of Thompson's. He is bigger than Brown, and had the best
of it at first, but not when you came up, sir. There's a good deal of
jealousy between our house and Thompson's, and there would have been
more fights if this hadn't been let go on, or if either of them had had
much the worst of it."

"Well but, Brooke," said the Doctor, "doesn't this look a little as
if you exercised your discretion by only stopping a fight when the
School-house boy is getting the worst of it?"

Brooke, it must be confessed, felt rather gravelled.

"Now remember," added the Doctor, as he stopped at the turret-door,
"this fight is not to go on; you'll see to that. And I expect you to
stop all fights in future at once."

"Very well, sir," said young Brooke, touching his hat, and not sorry to
see the turret-door close behind the Doctor's back.

Meantime Tom and the stanchest of his adherents had reached Harrowell's,
and Sally was bustling about to get them a late tea, while Stumps had
been sent off to Tew, the butcher, to get a piece of raw beef for Tom's
eye, which was to be healed off-hand, so that he might show well in the
morning. He was not a bit the worse, except a slight difficulty in his
vision, a singing in his ears, and a sprained thumb, which he kept in
a cold-water bandage, while he drank lots of tea, and listened to the
babel of voices talking and speculating of nothing but the fight, and
how Williams would have given in after another fall (which he didn't in
the least believe), and how on earth the Doctor could have got to know
of it--such bad luck! He couldn't help thinking to himself that he was
glad he hadn't won; he liked it better as it was, and felt very friendly
to the Slogger. And then poor little Arthur crept in and sat down
quietly near him, and kept looking at him and the raw beef with such
plaintive looks that Tom at last burst out laughing.

"Don't mak