ted with his booty, whistling a cheerful ditty.

Then a fag came in and took a spoon, and after him another fag, with a
mug, into which he poured half of the contents of Oliver's milk-jug; and
finally a big fellow rushed in in a desperate hurry and snatched up a
chair and made off with it.

Stephen wondered the roof of Saint Dominic's did not fall in upon these
shameless marauders, and was just contemplating putting the stores all
back again into the cupboard to prevent further piracy, when the welcome
sound of Oliver's voice in the passage put an end to further suspense.

"Well, here you are," said Oliver, entering with a friend. "Wray, this
is my young brother, just turned up."

"How are you?" said Wraysford, in a voice which won over Stephen at
once; "I heard you were coming. Have you--"

"Oh!" suddenly ejaculated Oliver, lifting up the lid of his teapot. "If
that young wretch Paul hasn't been and made my tea with coal-dust and
cold water! I'd like to scrag him! And--upon my word--oh, this is too
much!--just look, Wray, how he's laid the table out! Those Guinea-pigs
are beyond all patience. Where _is_ the beggar?"

"Oh!" exclaimed Stephen, starting up, very red in the face, as his
brother went to the door; "it wasn't him. I made the tea. The boy told
me to, and I didn't know the way. I had to guess."

Oliver and Wraysford both burst out laughing.

"A pretty good guess, too, youngster," said Wraysford. "When you come
and fag for me I'll give you a few lessons to begin with."

"Oh! by the way, Wray," said Oliver, "that's all knocked on the head.
Loman makes out the captain promised him the first new boy that came.
I'm awfully sorry."

"Just like Loman's cheek. I believe he did it on purpose to spite me or
you. I say, Greenfield, I'd kick-up a row about it if I were you."

"What's the use, if the captain says so?" answered Oliver. "Besides,
Loman's a monitor, bad luck to him!"

"Loman's a fellow I don't take a great fancy to," said Wraysford. "I
wouldn't care for a young brother of mine to fag to him."

"You are prejudiced, old man," said Oliver. "But I wish all the same
Stephen was to fag for you. It's a pity, but it can't be helped."

"I'll speak to the captain, anyhow," growled Wraysford, sitting down to
his tea.

All this was not very pleasant for Stephen, who gathered that he was
destined to serve a not very desirable personage in the capacity of fag,
instead of, as he would have l