ery finest
blackberries growing above it, just out of reach. The church he knew, of
course, and the row of chestnuts, whose leaves were just beginning to
fall; and the high wall dividing the orchard from the playground. That
must have been the wall on which Mr. Tooke's little boy used to be
placed to frighten him. It did not look so very high as Hugh had fancied
it. One thing which he had never seen or heard of was the bell, under
its little roof on the ridge of Mr. Tooke's great house. Was it to call
in the boys to school, or for an alarm? His uncle told him it might
serve the one purpose in the day, and the other by night; and that
almost every large farm thereabouts had such a bell on the top of the
house.

The sun was near its setting when they came in sight of the Crofton
house. A long range of windows glittered in the yellow light, and Phil
said that the lower row all belonged to the school-room;--that whole
row.

In the midst of his explanations Phil stopped, and his manner grew more
rough than ever--with a sort of shyness in it too. It was because some
of the boys were within hearing, leaning over the pales which separated
the playground from the road.

"I say; hello there!" cried one. "Is that Prater you have got with you?"

"Prater the second," cried another. "He could not have had his name if
there had not been Prater the first."

"There! there's a scrape you have got me into already!" muttered Phil.

"Be a man, Phil, and bear your own share," said Mr. Shaw; "and no spite,
because your words come back to you!"

The talk at the palings still went on, as the gig rolled quietly in the
sandy by-road.

"Prater!" poor Hugh exclaimed. "What a name!"

"Yes; that is you," said his uncle. "You know now what your nickname
will be. Every boy has one or another: and yours might have been worse,
because you might have done many a worse thing to earn it."

"But the usher, uncle?"

"What of him?"

"He should not have told about me."

"Don't call him 'Prater the third,' however. Bear your own share, as I
said to Phil, and don't meddle with another's."

Perhaps Mr. Shaw hoped that through one of the boys the usher would get
a new nickname for his ill-nature in telling tales of a little boy,
before he was so much as seen by his companions. He certainly put it
into their heads, whether they would make use of it or not.

Mr. Tooke was out, taking his evening ride; but Mr. Shaw would not drive
off till he had s