lay one finger to his nose in the most approved style of
comedy, and then awaited the result.

Fellows apparently did not take in that the song was at an end, for they
neither cheered nor smiled. So Fisher minor made an elaborate bow to
show it was all over. The result was the same. A gloomy silence
prevailed, in the midst of which the singer, never more perplexed in his
life, descended from the table and proceeded to look out for the
congratulations of his admirers.

"Beautiful song," said Wally, still mopping his face.

"I never thought I could be so touched by anything. We generally get
comic songs on first-night."

"This _is_ a comic one," said Fisher minor.

"Go on," said Wheatfield; "tell that to D'Arcy here--he'll believe you--
eh, D'Arcy?" D'Arcy looked mysterious.

"It's no laughing matter, young Wheatfield," said he, in a loud whisper,
evidently intended for the eager ears of Fisher minor. "I heard Yorke
just now ask Denton if he thought Fisher's minor was all there. Denton
seemed quite cut up, and said he hadn't known it before, but it must be
a great family trouble to the Fishers. It accounted for Fisher major's
frequent low spirits. You know," continued D'Arcy confidentially, "I
can't help myself thinking it's a little rough on Fisher major for his
people to send a minor who's afflicted like this to Fellsgarth. They
might at least have put him on the Modern side. He'd have been better
understood there."

This speech Fisher minor listened to with growing perplexity. Was
D'Arcy in jest or earnest? He seemed to be in earnest, and the serious
faces of his listeners looked like it too. Had the captain really made
that remark to Denton? Suppose there _was_ something in it! Suppose,
without his knowing, he was really a little queer in his head! His
people might have told him of it. And Fisher major, his brother--even
he hadn't heard of it! Oh dear! oh dear! How was he ever to recover
his reputation for sanity? Whatever induced him to sing that song?

Poor Fisher minor devoutly wished himself home again, within reach of
his mother's soothing voice and his sisters' smiles. _They_ understood
him. These fellows didn't. _They_ knew he was not an idiot. These
fellows didn't.

Further reflection was cut short by a loud call to order and cheers, as
Yorke, the captain, rose to his feet.

Every one liked Yorke. As captain of the School even the Moderns looked
up to him, and were forced