just in the nick of time. It was hard for any fighting man to have spent
something like half an hour wandering round circuitous streets and
holding ridiculous conflicts with unknown schools when the battle of
Waterloo, with the fate of the Empire of Muirtown, was hanging in the
balance.

Before Redhead had notice of the arrival of the new division they were
upon his rear, and a play of snowballs fell upon the back of the
Pennies. This was more than even veteran forces could endure, and in
spite of the heroic efforts of Redhead, who fired his balls alternately
back and forward, his forces fell into a panic. They broke and drove
their way through Howieson's division, receiving severe punishment from
balls fired at a distance of a few feet, and then, in spite of the
efforts of their officers, who fought till they were black and blue, but
chiefly red, the enemy rushed down the home street and, sweeping the
rearguard of Howieson's before them like straws in a stream, made for
their respective schools. The Seminaries in one united body, headed by
the three commanders and attended by the whole junior school, visited
the Pennies' school first, whose gates were promptly closed, and having
challenged the Pennies with opprobrious words to come out and fight like
men--Redhead being offered the chance of single combat with Dunc or
Speug or Jock Howieson--the Seminaries then made their way to McIntyre's
Academy. As this unfortunate place of learning had no gate, Speug led
the Seminaries into the centre of their courtyard, McIntyre's boys
having no spirit left in them and being now hidden in the class-rooms.
As they would not come out, in spite of a shower of courteous
invitations, Speug stood in the centre of their courtyard and called the
gods to witness that it had been a fair fight and that the Seminaries
had won. A marvellous figure was he, without bonnet, without collar,
without tie, without jacket, without waistcoat, with nothing on him but
a flannel shirt and those marvellous horsey trousers, but glorious in
victory. Taking a snowball from Nestie, who was standing by his side,
openly and in face of McIntyre's masters, gathered at a window, he sent
it with unerring aim through the largest pane of glass in McIntyre's own
room. "That," said Speug, "'ill tell ye the Seminaries have been here."
Then he collected his forces and led them home down the cross street and
into Breadalbane Street, down the middle of Breadalbane Street, an