d-of thing for a good
boy in a story-book not to be perfect, and that is one reason which
convinces me this story of mine must be an impossible one. Riddell was
not perfect. He had a fault. Can you believe it--he had many faults?
He even had a besetting sin, and that besetting sin was pride. Not the
sort of pride that makes you consider yourself better than your
neighbours. Riddell really couldn't think that even had he wished it.
But his pride was of that kind which won't admit of anybody to help it,
which would sooner knock its head to bits against a stone wall than own
it can't get through it, and which can never bring itself to say "I am
beaten," even when it is clear to all the world it is beaten.

Pride had had a fall this day at any rate; but it had risen again more
stubborn than ever; and if Riddell went to bed that night the most
unhappy boy in Willoughby, he went there also resolving more than ever
to remain its captain.

Other events had happened that day which, one might suppose, should have
convinced him he was attempting an impossibility. But these must be
reserved for the next chapter.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

THE WILLOUGHBY PARLIAMENT IN SESSION.

The "Parliament" at Willoughby was one of the very old institutions of
the school. Old, white-headed Willoughbites, when talking of their
remote schooldays, would often recall their exploits "on the floor of
the house," when Pilligrew (now a Cabinet Minister) brought in his
famous bill to abolish morning chapel in winter, and was opposed by
Jilson (now Ambassador to the Court at Whereisit) in a speech two hours
long; or when old Coates (a grandfather, by the way, of the present
bearer of that name in the school) divided the house fifteen times in
one afternoon on the question of presenting a requisition to the head
master to put more treacle into the suet puddings! They were exciting
days, and the custom had gone on flourishing up to the present.

The Willoughby Parliament was an institution which the masters of the
school wisely connived at, while holding aloof themselves from its
proceedings. There was no restraint as to the questions to be discussed
or the manner and time of the discussion, provided the rules of the
school were not infringed. The management was entirely in the hands of
the boys, who elected their own officers, and paid sixpence a term for
the privilege of a seat in the august assembly.

The proceedings were regulated by certain