Tom and Jack were in their room—the room our hero had decided to share with his new chum. The matron and monitor had been interviewed, and Mrs. Blackford was very glad, she said, to know that Tom was to have a companion.
“And such a nice, quiet-appearing lad as he is, too,” she confided to her husband. Alas, she did not know Jack Fitch!
“The other one seems very quiet, also,” said Mr. Blackford. “I wish all the students were like those two.”
But if he and his wife could have looked into the chums’ room at that moment, perhaps they would not have held to that opinion.
For Jack had taken the large water pitcher, and was preparing to balance it on his nose, while Tom, rather fearing how the experiment would terminate, had gotten safely out of the way in case of an accident.
“I wouldn’t do it, if I were you,” spoke Tom, though he could not help laughing at his chum’s odd notion.
“Why not?” demanded Jack.
“Well—— Oh, because it might fall.”
“No reason at all, Tom. If would-be jugglers hesitated on that account there’d be no experts. Give me a hand until I get it up on my nose; will you?”
“I’d rather not.”