e way, continued to have
strawberry ices in the middle of December I have never yet clearly
understood) while the receipt was being made out.

Mr Winget, the hatter, rather disappointed me by offering me nothing
more than his sincere thanks for the settlement of his little bill. He
might at least, I thought, have offered me a mourning hatband or a new
school ribbon. His bill, however, was only five shillings, so probably
the profit did not permit of any gratuitous allowance in recognition of
my distinguished services.

I was consoled, however, by Mr Ringstead, the games man, who presented
me with a net-bag for holding tennis balls, and urged me, whenever I
wanted any little thing in the way of repairs to bats, or fresh spikes
to my running shoes, to let him know.

It was all very pleasant, and I grieve to say that the shady side of all
this petty bribery and corruption never once occurred to my simple mind.

I returned to school covered with self-satisfaction, and virtuously
clutching in my hand half-a-crown, the final change out of the "fiver."
This in due course I put in an envelope, together with the batch of
receipts, and laid on Crofter's table after morning school, with the
laconic message under the flap, "All right, T.J. iv."

I was far too knowing to let out my secret to the Philosophers, whose
agitation and indignation at Tempest's probable expulsion knew no bounds
and somewhat amused me.

"Look here, Sarah," said Langrish, as I entered for the first time after
my disgrace of the previous day--I knew my comrades well enough to be
sure they would like to see me--"we all know you're about the
beastliest, howlingest cad in Low Heath; so that's all right."

"I'm glad you think so."

"Yes, and you've been told to clear out, as it's your fault Tempest's
expelled."

"Is it? That's all you know," said I.

"Yes, and you're kicked out of the Philosophers, and we're going to
invite Dicky Brown to join us. _He's_ a decent chap."

This was rather a blow.

"I thought no town-boys were eligible."

"No cads are; that's why you're out of it."

"Look here--" said I.

"We're not going to look here. You can cut and go, and sit on the
stairs. We don't want you in here, do we, you chaps?"

"Rather not, unless we've got our kicking boots on."

"All right," said I, feeling I must play one or two of my trumps. "I
sha'n't tell you what I was going to."

"Pooh, we know all about it," said Coxhead. But it wa