an to look," said Alfred, "I know it's in the Delectus."

"Wonderful memory!--I admire that delectable book of yours," cried Frank,
who talked on without stopping, while forcing himself to the first rank.
"How now, Maister Dunn!" he said, addressing the old man, "I hope you
b'aint a going to treat us as e did last time. You must be reasonable;
the money market is in a sadly unflourishing condition at present."

"You always talk of the _money market_, Frank," said little Alfred:
"what do you mean by the money market?"

"It's a place, my dear--I'll explain it in a moment. Here, Maister
Dunn;--It's a place where the old women sell sovereigns a penny
a measure, Alfred."

"Oh, Frank!" exclaimed Alfred.

"Oh! and why not?" said Frank; "do you mean to say you don't believe me?
That's it,--isn't it, maister?"

"Ah, Maister Digby! ye're at yer jokes," said the old man.

"Jokes!" said Frank, with a serious air. "Pray, Mr. Dunn, did you ever
happen to notice certain brass, or copper, or bronze tables, four in
number, in front of the Bristol Exchange!"

"Ay sure, maister!"

"Well, I'll insense you into the meaning of that, presently. That, my
good sir, is where the old women stood in the good old times, crying
out, 'Here you are! sovereigns a penny a measure!' And that's the reason
people used to be so rich!"

"Oh, Frank! now I know that's only your nonsense," said Alfred.

"Well, I can't give you a comprehension, and if I could buy you one, I
couldn't afford it," answered Frank. "Now here's my place for any one;
Louis, I'll make you a present of it, as I don't want it."

"I don't want to buy any thing," said Louis.

"Rubbish!" cried Frank. "Every one does. Don't be stingy." And so
Louis allowed himself to be pushed and pulled into the crowd, and
bought something he would much rather have been without, because
he found it inconvenient to say _no_.

The two upper classes were privileged to use the largest of the
class-rooms as their sitting-room in the evenings; and here Reginald
introduced his brother after tea; and, when he had shown him his
lessons, began to prepare his own. Most of the assembled youths were
soon quietly busy, though some of the more idly disposed kept up a fire
of words, while turning over leaves, and cutting pens to pieces. Among
the latter class was Frank Digby, who was seldom known to be silent
for a quarter of an hour, and who possessed the singular power of
distracting every one's attention