finger. They came
closer, and sang like a trained chorus, "A-fray-ed of his mittens!"

When he raised his voice to deny the charge it was simply lost in the
screams of the mob. He was alone, fronting all the traditions of
boyhood held before him by inexorable representatives. To such a low
state had he fallen that one lad, a mere baby, outflanked him and then
struck him in the cheek with a heavy snowball. The act was acclaimed
with loud jeers. Horace turned to dart at his assailant, but there was
an immediate demonstration on the other flank, and he found himself
obliged to keep his face towards the hilarious crew of tormentors. The
baby retreated in safety to the rear of the crowd, where he was
received with fulsome compliments upon his daring. Horace retreated
slowly up the walk. He continually tried to make them heed him, but
the only sound was the chant, "A-fray-ed of his mit-tens!" In this
desperate withdrawal the beset and haggard boy suffered more than is
the common lot of man.

[Illustration: "When He Raised His Voice to Deny the Charge"]

Being a boy himself, he did not understand boys at all. He had, of
course, the dismal conviction that they were going to dog him to his
grave. But near the corner of the field they suddenly seemed to forget
all about it. Indeed, they possessed only the malevolence of so many
flitter-headed sparrows. The interest had swung capriciously to some
other matter. In a moment they were off in the field again, carousing
amid the snow. Some authoritative boy had probably said, "Aw, come
on!"

[Illustration: "Aw, Come On!"]

As the pursuit ceased, Horace ceased his retreat. He spent some time
in what was evidently an attempt to adjust his self respect, and then
began to wander furtively down towards the group. He, too, had
undergone an important change. Perhaps his sharp agony was only as
durable as the malevolence of the others. In this boyish life
obedience to some unformulated creed of manners was enforced with
capricious but merciless rigor. However, they were, after all, his
comrades, his friends.

They did not heed his return. They were engaged in an altercation. It
had evidently been planned that this battle was between Indians and
soldiers. The smaller and weaker boys had been induced to appear as
Indians in the initial skirmish, but they were now very sick of it,
and were reluctantly but steadfastly, affirming their desire for a
change of caste. The larger boys had all w