e such eyes, young un," said he; "there's nothing the matter."

"Oh, but, Tom, are you much hurt? I can't bear thinking it was all for
me."

"Not a bit of it; don't flatter yourself. We were sure to have had it
out sooner or later."

"Well, but you won't go on, will you? You'll promise me you won't go
on?"

"Can't tell about that--all depends on the houses. We're in the hands
of our countrymen, you know. Must fight for the School-house flag, if so
be."

However, the lovers of the science were doomed to disappointment this
time. Directly after locking-up, one of the night-fags knocked at Tom's
door.

"Brown, young Brooke wants you in the sixth-form room."

Up went Tom to the summons, and found the magnates sitting at their
supper.

"Well, Brown," said young Brooke, nodding to him, "how do you feel?"

"Oh, very well, thank you, only I've sprained my thumb, I think."

"Sure to do that in a fight. Well, you hadn't the worst of it, I could
see. Where did you learn that throw?"

"Down in the country when I was a boy."

"Hullo! why, what are you now? Well, never mind, you're a plucky fellow.
Sit down and have some supper."

Tom obeyed, by no means loath. And the fifth-form boy next filled him a
tumbler of bottled beer, and he ate and drank, listening to the pleasant
talk, and wondering how soon he should be in the fifth, and one of that
much-envied society.

As he got up to leave, Brooke said, "You must shake hands to-morrow
morning; I shall come and see that done after first lesson."

And so he did. And Tom and the Slogger shook hands with great
satisfaction and mutual respect. And for the next year or two, whenever
fights were being talked of, the small boys who had been present shook
their heads wisely, saying, "Ah! but you should just have seen the fight
between Slogger Williams and Tom Brown!"

And now, boys all, three words before we quit the subject. I have put
in this chapter on fighting of malice prepense, partly because I want to
give you a true picture of what everyday school life was in my time, and
not a kid-glove and go-to-meeting-coat picture, and partly because of
the cant and twaddle that's talked of boxing and fighting with fists
nowadays. Even Thackeray has given in to it; and only a few weeks ago
there was some rampant stuff in the Times on the subject, in an article
on field sports.

Boys will quarrel, and when they quarrel will sometimes fight. Fighting
with fists is the natural and