ctor"--Mr Smallpage,
the mathematical master, called by the boys "Smiley," on the _lucus a
non lucendo_ principle, I suppose, because his face ever bore an
expression of gravity; and Monsieur Achile Phelan, professor of foreign
languages and dancing, christened by Tom Larkyns "The Cobbler," on
account of his teaching a certain number of extra-paying pupils how to
"heel and toe."

Whatever was the reason for "The Doctor's" hardupishness, however, the
fact was undeniable; and Tom said that for weeks at a time the
establishment would be in a state of siege, from tradespeople coming
after their "little accounts," which the master put off settling as long
as he could. The old woman who had opened the door to me, my chum
stated, was popularly believed to be the principal's maternal relative,
as she kept a watchful eye upon the portal, besides presiding over the
interior economy of the school. She was so sharp, Tom averred, that she
could smell a "dun," experience having so increased the natural keenness
of her scent.

Sometimes, too, Tom said, when Dr Hellyer could get no credit with the
butcher, they lived on Australian tinned mutton, which he got wholesale
from the importers, as long as three months at a stretch; and once, he
pledged me his word, when the baker likewise failed to supply any more
bread by reason of that long-suffering man's bill not having been paid
for a year, Dr Hellyer, not to be beaten, went off to Portsmouth and
bought a lot of condemned ship biscuits at a Government sale in the
victualling yard, returning with this in triumph to the school, and
serving it out to the pupils in rations, the same as if they had been at
sea!

In the midst of all these interesting disclosures, a terrible drumming,
buzzing noise filled the air.

"What's that din?" I asked Tom.

"Oh, that's the tea-gong," he replied. "We must go in now, as we'll get
none if we are late, for the Doctor teaches punctuality by example."

"He told me he had `a way of his own' for making his pupils obey him,"
said I.

"Did he? Ah, you'll soon find out what a brute he is! Let us look at
your nose, though, Martin, before you go in. You recollect what he said
about not fighting, eh?"

"Yes; does it look all right now?" I asked, anxiously.

"Pretty well," said Tom, critically examining the damaged organ. "A
little bit puffy on the off side but I think it will pass muster, and
you'll escape notice if that sneak Slodgers doesn't spl