ef. Very
disgusting, wasn't it? The other boys thought so too, and they watched
him to see if he went and ate them himself. But he did not; he slipped
away when the others were not looking and went out into the town. So
then they thought he went to sell them, and they were very angry, and
would not speak to that boy or play with him, and left him alone; but
still he used to get the 'gags' and carry them away. One day some other
boys followed him, and what do you think they found? That he used to
take the 'gags' to his own father and mother, who were very poor and
almost beggars, and had nothing to eat. So the master praised him for
being a good son, and not minding what the others said when he knew he
could do something to help his poor parents.

In those days when a Blue-coat boy tried to run away he was shut up in a
little dark cell like a prison cell, and had only bread and water given
to him, and saw no one and spoke to no one, and twice a week he was
taken out and flogged. It was no wonder the boys wanted to run away, for
the place was very wretched, and in the great dining-hall there were
swarms of rats that came out at night to pick up the crumbs, and the
boys used to go and catch them for fun, not in traps, but in their
hands. I don't think girls would ever have liked that game, and there
must have been some nasty bites and scratches sometimes.

A very small boy was crying one day when he came back to the school
after the holidays, and a master said to him: 'Boy, the school is your
father; boy, the school is your mother; boy, the school is your brother,
the school is your sister, your first cousin, your second cousin, and
all the rest of your relations.' I don't suppose it made that boy feel
any better. It is very different now, and the boys are very happy, and a
great many clever men have been taught at that school, but in those
early days it cannot have been very comfortable. But this is enough
about the Blue-coat School.

In one school the boys play on the roof, because they have no
playground. This is in the City, near the great big cathedral of St.
Paul's, and there is no room for playgrounds there; the land is too
valuable, and is wanted for houses and streets. The school is for the
choir-boys of the cathedral, who sing more beautifully than any other
boys in the world. And if you were walking past the school you might
suddenly hear a lovely voice rising higher and higher and higher, like
a skylark or a