one, and was apt in his lessons to give a false quantity, and sometimes a translation of his Caesar which put him down to the bottom of the class. Murray was always ready and able to help him, but Jack was not a fellow who would consent to trust to the help of another. When he really tried, he could always do his work, and very creditably too. Adair, unlike his friends, was nearly always getting into trouble. He would not think enough about consequences. Once he and others had been letting off fireworks of their own manufacture in a remote corner of the playground. Notice was given that an usher was coming. They threw away their combustibles, and fled. Terence, however, had a piece of lighted touch-paper, which, in his hurry, he shoved into his pocket. It was already full of a similar preparation. He was caught and hauled away into the schoolroom to receive condign punishment. He tried to look very innocent, and requested to know why he was dragged along so unceremoniously. Paddy, under no circumstances, ever lost his politeness. Unhappily for him just as he reached the door the proofs of his guilt became apparent. Streams of smoke and sparks burst out of his pockets, and the master had to pull out the burning paper to prevent him from being seriously injured. As to his lessons he very frequently was at the top of his class, but he never could manage to keep there many days together. For some neglect or other, he soon again lost his place. Still he was a general favourite. Even the masters could not help liking him. The three new boys were put into one room. They slept there for several halves. On one occasion Terence had kept away a good deal from Jack and Murray, and associated more than was his custom with several of the less nice boys. Among them was Pigeon, the bullying fellow. I happened to be awake one night, when, by the pale moonlight which streamed in at the windows, I saw Paddy Adair sit up in his bed and look about him. Pigeon and another biggish fellow did the same. They signed to each other, and slipping on their clothes, crept with their shoes in their hands out of the room. I could not go to sleep, wondering what had become of them. Jack Rogers slept near me. He likewise had seen what had occurred. They were absent about half an hour. They returned as noiselessly as they had gone out, and crept into bed again, of course thinking that no one had observed them. No sooner was the door closed than there was a strong smell of apples in the room, and presently “crunch! crunch! crunch!” was heard.

“Those fellows have been stealing old Rowley’s apples, now,” thought Jack; “and that donkey Paddy Adair has, I’d bet, been heading the party.”

He felt as if he were a spy by not letting them know that he was awake, so he sat up and said, “Hillo! you fellows, what have you been about?”

“Is that you awake, Jack?” answered Adair. “Never mind, we’ve had great fun. Have an apple, will you?”

“No, thank you,” said Jack, “I’d rather not;” laying considerable emphasis on the last words.

“He doesn’t deserve one as he hadn’t the pluck to go and get them,” said a voice from under the bedclothes.

“Who says that?” exclaimed Jack, sitting up in bed.

“Why, I say you would have been afraid to go and do what we have done,” answered Bully Pigeon, summoning up more courage than was his wont.

“Afraid!” exclaimed Jack, springing out of bed and slipping on his trousers. “Afraid of what? Afraid of stealing? Afraid of telling a lie I am; but I’m not afraid of you, you thief, I can tell you.”

Even Bully Pigeon could not stand this. Unless he would be jeered at and called sneak ever afterwards by all the little boys in the school, he felt that he must retaliate. He jumped up and sprang at Jack, aiming a blow, which, if the latter had not slipped aside, would have knocked him over. Jack, notwithstanding this, sprang back, and put himself on his defence, not only warding off the next blow Pigeon struck, but planting another between his eyes, which brought fire into them with a vengeance.

This enraged the bully, who came thundering down on Jack with all his might, and would have wellnigh crushed him, but Pigeon found a new assailant in the field whom he did not expect—one of his own party. It was Paddy Adair.

“I can’t stand that, and I won’t,” he exclaimed, aiming a blow at Pigeon’s head which sent him backwards; while Alick Murray, who had likewise jumped up, appeared on the other side of him.

“We are thieves, I tell you; we’ve been stealing old Rowley’s apples, and Jack Rogers is right,” cried Terence.

“A very true remark, boys,” said a deep voice which all recognised full well. The door opened, and old Rowley himself, habited in his dressing-gown, with a candle in one hand and a birch in the other, appeared at the entrance, followed by good kind Mrs Jones, the housekeeper. Every one scuttled away to their beds as fast as they could go, except Alick Murray and Terence. Murray was the first Rowley laid hands on, and, putting down his candle on the mantelpiece, he was about to make use of his birch. Murray disdained to utter a word which might inculpate others, and I knew he would have received a flogging without complaint, but Terence cried out, “No, no, it wasn’t him—I was one of them—flog me if you like.”

“Well, get into bed,” answered Rowley, in a voice which did not sound as if he was very angry. “You two have the spoils upon you, however;” saying this, he went to the beds of Bully Pigeon and the other big fellow, and gave them as sound a flogging as they ever had in their lives, while Mrs Jones retired to a little distance, though I believe she always came in the hopes of softening the vigour of the master’s arm. He went round to the other rooms, and treated the rest of the culprits in the same way, and we had reason to suspect that he had watched the whole party as they returned from their marauding expedition. All the culprits were sent to Coventry the next day for a week, except Terence, who had however led the expedition, though he did not plan it. “I have great respect for the person who is not afraid to call a thief a thief, or a lie by its right name,” said Rowley not long afterwards, looking significantly at Terence.

Time sped on, we were getting up in the school, new boys were coming and old ones were going away, when the first night after our return from the Christmas holidays, we all lay awake talking of our adventures.

“This is my last half,” said Jack; “I’ve made up my mind to be a sailor, and my father says I may; and an admiral, a friend of ours, has promised to get me a ship; and so it’s all settled, and I’m going.”

“Are you, old fellow? how capital!” exclaimed Terence. “I’ve been asked if I would go to sea, and I said yes; for there’s nothing else I want to do that I know of, but I little thought you would be going too. Well, that is good, and clenches the matter.”

“I am very glad to hear it,” cried Murray; “it is what I have been longing to do for years past, almost since I could read. The only profession I felt that I should ever like was the navy, but I never saw a chance till these holidays of being able to go into it. I believe it is settled; I shall know shortly, I hope.”

“What, are we all three going? how capital! What fun we will have,” cried Jack. “Of course they’ll let you. Oh, hang it, you must go with us.” Murray seldom talked much of what he wished to do, or expressed his feelings, except perhaps to a trusted friend like Jack, but of the three companions he had probably the strongest will, and when he had set his mind on an object, no one could exert himself more resolutely to accomplish it. He wrote and wrote to his friends, expressing his wish in as strong terms as he could, giving many excellent reasons for having formed it. Before many weeks had passed, Murray received a letter. The contents would have made Jack and Terence throw up