tween just wide enough to prevent the boys' whispering. A blackboard
set into the wall extended clear across the end of the room; on a raised
platform near the door stood the master's table; and directly in front
of this was a recitation-bench capable of seating fifteen or twenty
pupils. A pair of globes, tattooed with dragons and winged horses,
occupied a shelf between two windows, which were so high from the floor
that nothing but a giraffe could have looked out of them.

Having possessed myself of these details, I scrutinized my new
acquaintances with unconcealed curiosity, instinctively selecting my
friends and picking out my enemies--and in only two cases did I mistake
my man.

A sallow boy with bright red hair, sitting in the fourth row, shook
his fist at me furtively several times during the morning. I had a
presentiment I should have trouble with that boy some day--a presentiment
subsequently realized.

On my left was a chubby little fellow with a great many freckles (this
was Pepper Whitcomb), who made some mysterious motions to me. I didn't
understand them, but, as they were clearly of a pacific nature, I winked
my eye at him. This appeared to be satisfactory, for he then went on
with his studies. At recess he gave me the core of his apple, though
there were several applicants for it.

Presently a boy in a loose olive-green jacket with two rows of brass
buttons held up a folded paper behind his slate, intimating that it was
intended for me. The paper was passed skillfully from desk to desk until
it reached my hands. On opening the scrap, I found that it contained
a small piece of molasses candy in an extremely humid state. This was
certainly kind. I nodded my acknowledgments and hastily slipped the
delicacy into my mouth. In a second I felt my tongue grow red-hot with
cayenne pepper.

My face must have assumed a comical expression, for the boy in the
olive-green jacket gave an hysterical laugh, for which he was instantly
punished by Mr. Grimshaw. I swallowed the fiery candy, though it brought
the water to my eyes, and managed to look so unconcerned that I was
the only pupil in the form who escaped questioning as to the cause of
Marden's misdemeanor. C. Marden was his name.

Nothing else occurred that morning to interrupt the exercises, excepting
that a boy in the reading class threw us all into convulsions by calling
Absalom A-bol'-som "Abolsom, O my son Abolsom!" I laughed as loud as
anyone, but I am n