de, where he lay in state, with
his white curtains tucked in so as to form a retiring place: an awful
subject of contemplation to Tom, who slept nearly opposite, and watched
the great man rouse himself and take a book from under his pillow, and
begin reading, leaning his head on his hand, and turning his back to the
room. Soon, however, a noise of striving urchins arose, and muttered
encouragements from the neighbouring boys, of--"Go it, Tadpole!" "Now,
young Green!" "Haul away his blanket!" "Slipper him on the hands!" Young
Green and little Hall, commonly called Tadpole, from his great black
head and thin legs, slept side by side far away by the door, and were
for ever playing one another tricks, which usually ended, as on this
morning, in open and violent collision: and now, unmindful of all order
and authority, there they were, each hauling away at the other's
bed-clothes with one hand, and with the other, armed with a slipper,
belabouring whatever portion of the body of his adversary came within
reach.

"Hold that noise, up in the corner," called out the praepostor, sitting
up and looking round his curtains; and the Tadpole and young Green sank
down into their disordered beds, and then, looking at his watch, added
"Hullo, past eight!--whose turn for hot water?"

(Where the praepostor was particular in his ablutions, the fags in his
room had to descend in turn to the kitchen, and beg or steal hot water
for him; and often the custom extended further, and two boys went down
every morning to get a supply for the whole room.)

"East's and Tadpole's," answered the senior fag, who kept the rota.

"I can't go," said East; "I'm dead lame."

"Well, be quick, some of you, that's all," said the great man, as he
turned out of bed, and putting on his slippers, went out into the great
passage which runs the whole length of the bedrooms, to get his Sunday
habiliments out of his portmanteau.

"Let me go for you," said Tom to East, "I should like it."

"Well, thank'ee, that's a good fellow. Just pull on your trousers, and
take your jug and mine. Tadpole will show you the way."

And so Tom and the Tadpole, in night-shirts and trousers, started off
down-stairs, and through "Thos's hole," as the little buttery, where
candles and beer and bread and cheese were served out at night, was
called; across the School-house court, down a long passage, and into the
kitchen; where, after some parley with the stalwart, handsome cook, who
d