war against Carpet Slippers. There
was Doe, and now Chappy.

"I know all about it," continued the new ally, "and then you filled
your excitable mind with thoughts of revenge--eh?"

"Yes," I admitted, and looked down at the clean white sheet.

"And off you go on your midnight perambulations--the cold wakes you
up--and there's the devil to pay--and the old doctor to pay! One
guinea, please. And now I'm off."

"Oh, don't go," I pleaded, before I was aware of saying it. I didn't
want him to go, for he was an entertaining apothecary and a
sympathetic person, before whom I could act my sullenness and
aggrievement.

"Don't go? Why shouldn't I?" demanded Chappy, who seemed, however,
touched at my wanting him. "Now, my son, don't you run away with the
idea that you're of the slightest importance. All boys are the most
useless, burdensome, and expensive animals in the world. It wouldn't
matter twopence if they were all wiped out of existence--there'd be
a sigh of relief. So don't think it interesting that you're ill.
Because it isn't. And you ain't ill. So good-bye."

He disappeared into the matron's room next door, and his hearty
voice could be heard haranguing the lady:

"The Gem's got a healthy young constitution, but his brain's a
ticklish instrument. His _corpore_ is as _sano_ as you like, but his
_mens_ is rather too _excitabilis_. Ah ha! Matron, what it is to
move in this classic atmosphere! Certain sproutings of his
imagination must be repressed--push 'em down, Matron. Young beggar,
I'd sit on him and crush him. But then, it's all the fault of that
stuttering old barbarian slave-driver, Fillet."

Here the matron must have been speaking, for I heard no more till
Chappy began again:

"He's got a tough little breast, fine stomach-muscles, and limbs
firm and round enough to get him a prize in a Boy Show. But the
beast is spoiled as a specimen by his little Vesuvius of a mind. And
oh, Matron, I lied to him like an under-secretary. I said that boys
were the least important arrangements in the world, when, dammit--I
mean, God bless my soul--they're the most important things in
Creation, and this particular hotbed of the vermin has some of the
finest editions of them all. But never let the little blades know
it--never let 'em know it."

With that he must have taken his leave, for quiet assumed possession
of everything. I settled down to the boredom of the afternoon,
letting my eyes travel up and down the stripes of