wish my dad 'ud do as much for me; but he don't seem to care a cent
whether I ever learn 'em or not," said poor Shorty, ruefully. For he was
pretty sure to miss two out of every three questions asked him, and Mr.
Garrison thought him one of his worst scholars.

"Won't your mother help you, then?" asked Bert, with interest.

"Got no mother," was the reply, while Shorty's eyes shone suspiciously.
"Mother's been dead this good while."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," said Bert, in tones of genuine sympathy that went
right to Frank Bowser's heart, and greatly strengthened the liking he
had felt from the first for his new schoolmate.

It was not long before he gave proof of what he thought of Bert in a
very practical way. They were for the most part in the same classes, and
it soon became evident that Shorty felt very proud of his friend's
accuracy at recitation. That he should remain at the foot while Bert
worked his way up steadily toward the head of the class, did not arouse
the slightest feeling of jealousy in his honest heart; but, on the
contrary, a frank admiration that did him infinite credit.

But it was just the other way with Bob Brandon, an overgrown, lanky boy,
who seemed to have taken a dislike to Bert from the first, and seized
every opportunity of acting disagreeably toward him. Being so much
smaller, Bert had to endure his slights as best he could, but he found
it very hard, and particularly so that Bob should prevent him from
getting his proper place in his class. Again and again would Bert pass
Bob, who, indeed, rarely knew his lessons; but so sure as the class
reassembled, Bob would roughly shoulder his way toward the top and Bert
would have to take a lower position, unless Mr. Garrison happened to
notice what was taking place and readjusted matters, which, however, did
not often occur.

This sort of thing had been going on for some time, until at last one
day Bert felt so badly over it that when he went back to his seat he
buried his head in his hands and burst out crying, much to the surprise
of Shorty, who at once leaned over and asked, with much concern:

"What's the matter, Bert? Missed your lesson?"

Bert checked his tears and told his trouble.

"Sho! that's what's the matter, hey? I guess I'll fix Bob as sure as my
name's Bowser."

"What'll you do?" asked Bert. "Tell the master?"

"No, sir. No tattling for me," replied Shorty, vigorously. "I'll just
punch his head for him, see if I don't."

And