peak to you, and
don't be afraid. If you're afraid, you'll get bullied. And don't you say
you can sing; and don't you ever talk about home, or your mother and
sisters."

Poor little Arthur looked ready to cry.

"But please," said he, "mayn't I talk about--about home to you?"

"Oh yes, I like it. But don't talk to boys you don't know, or they'll
call you home-sick, or mamma's darling, or some such stuff. What a jolly
desk! Is that yours? And what stunning binding! why, your school-books
look like novels!"

And Tom was soon deep in Arthur's goods and chattels, all new and good
enough for a fifth-form boy, and hardly thought of his friends outside,
till the prayer-bell rung.

I have already described the School-house prayers; they were the same on
the first night as on the other nights, save for the gaps caused by the
absence of those boys who came late, and the line of new boys who stood
all together at the farther table--of all sorts and sizes, like young
bears with all their troubles to come, as Tom's father had said to him
when he was in the same position. He thought of it as he looked at the
line, and poor little slight Arthur standing with them, and as he was
leading him up-stairs to Number 4, directly after prayers, and showing
him his bed. It was a huge high airy room, with two large windows
looking on to the School close. There were twelve beds in the room. The
one in the furthest corner by the fireplace, occupied by the sixth-form
boy who was responsible for the discipline of the room, and the rest by
boys in the lower-fifth and other junior forms, all fags (for the
fifth-form boys, as has been said, slept in rooms by themselves). Being
fags, the eldest of them was not more than about sixteen years old, and
were all bound to be up and in bed by ten; the sixth-form boys came to
bed from ten to a quarter-past (at which time the old verger came round
to put the candles out), except when they sat up to read.

Within a few minutes therefore of their entry, all the other boys who
slept in Number 4 had come up. The little fellows went quietly to their
own beds, and began undressing and talking to each other in whispers;
while the elder, amongst whom was Tom, sat chatting about on one
another's beds, with their jackets and waistcoats off. Poor little
Arthur was overwhelmed with the novelty of his position. The idea of
sleeping in the room with strange boys had clearly never crossed his
mind before, and was as pain