en the working of a guilty conscience once or twice before at
Draven's, but never knew it to work in quite so strange a manner as it
did with Potter that evening.

There was nothing for it but to give him up as a bad job, and go to bed.
Which I did; and awoke next morning in a forgiving mood.

It was always a scramble at breakfast on Saturdays at Draven's to see
who could get nearest to the ham, for we sickened of the cold mutton
they gave us on other days. This morning, to my gratification, I was
"well up." That is, there were only two fellows before me, so that at
any rate I was good for a fair, straight slice from the middle.

"Huzza!" said I, crowding up to Williams, who was next above me. "I've
never had anything but knuckle all this--"

Williams faced round as he heard my voice; and then, without waiting to
hear the end of my sentence, got up and took a seat at the lower end of
the table.

"Poor beggar's out of sorts," said I to myself. "Another of his bilious
attacks, I suppose," I added, moving up to his seat and addressing the
proud occupant of the carver's chair. This fellow was Harrison, whom,
next to Browne, we counted the oiliest fellow at Draven's. He could
sing, and make puns, and though a long way behind Browne, was a popular,
jovial companion.

He appeared not to hear my remark, but, hitching his chair a little
away, began deliberately to carve a slice of ham.

He took a long time about it, and I watched him patiently till he was
done. It was a prime ham, I could see, and, ashamed as I am to confess
it, it made me feel amiable to all the world to find it was so.

"If they were all like this--" I began.

"There's room here, Harrison, old man," Williams called up the table.

Whereupon Harrison, plate in hand, went down to keep Williams company,
leaving me for the first time in my life "top-hammer."

Somehow I did not enjoy the dignity quite as much as I should have
expected. I was sorry Harrison had gone, for I wanted to speak to him
about Potter, and I could not help fancying, from his unusual manner,
that he was put out about something, and I thought he might have told me
about it instead of chumming up to Williams. However, I was hungry, and
took my slice of ham and passed the dish along to the fellow next me,
who sat below the two empty chairs up which I had risen.

It was rather a solitary meal, and I was glad when it was over and the
bell rang for first school. There at least