eavily on our youngsters for some time; they were in a good bedroom,
where slept the only praepostor left who was able to keep thorough order,
and their study was in his passage; so, though they were fagged more or
less, and occasionally kicked or cuffed by the bullies, they were on the
whole well off; and the fresh brave school-life, so full of games,
adventures, and good fellowship, so ready at forgetting, so capacious at
enjoying, so bright at forecasting, outweighed a thousandfold their
troubles with the master of their form, and the occasional ill-usage of
the big boys in the house. It wasn't till some year or so after the
events recorded above, that the praepostor of their room and passage
left. None of the other sixth-form boys would move into their passage,
and, to the disgust and indignation of Tom and East, one morning after
breakfast they were seized upon by Flashman, and made to carry down his
books and furniture into the unoccupied study which he had taken. From
this time they began to feel the weight of the tyranny of Flashman and
his friends, and, now that trouble had come home to their own doors,
began to look out for sympathizers and partners amongst the rest of the
fags; and meetings of the oppressed began to be held, and murmurs to
arise, and plots to be laid as to how they should free themselves and be
avenged on their enemies.

While matters were in this state, East and Tom were one evening sitting
in their study. They had done their work for first lesson, and Tom was
in a brown study, brooding, like a young William Tell, upon the wrongs
of fags in general, and his own in particular.

"I say, Scud," said he at last, rousing himself to snuff the candle,
"what right have the fifth-form boys to fag us as they do?"

"No more right than you have to fag them," answered East, without
looking up from an early number of "Pickwick," which was just coming
out, and which he was luxuriously devouring, stretched on his back on
the sofa.

Tom relapsed into his brown study, and East went on reading and
chuckling. The contrast of the boys' faces would have given infinite
amusement to a looker-on, the one so solemn and big with mighty purpose,
the other radiant and bubbling over with fun.

"Do you know, old fellow, I've been thinking it over a good deal," began
Tom again.

"Oh yes, I know, fagging you are thinking of. Hang it all;--but listen
here, Tom--here's fun. Mr. Winkle's horse----"

"And I've made up m