"Oh, it might be worse," said Erskine cheerfully. "He has stopped short of murder!"
"We should like to know how far he got," Tiny said, while Ruth held out an eager hand for the letter.
"I don't think you must read it, my dear; but the fact is he has at last filled up somebody's eye!"
Tiny breathed a sigh of relief.
"Is he in prison?" asked Ruth.
"No, not yet; but I am afraid he must be in bad odor, though perhaps not with everybody."
"Whose was the eye?" Christina wanted to know.
"The proctor's!" suggested Ruth.
"Not yet, again—you must give the poor boy time, my dear. It may be the proctor's turn next, but at present your little brother has contented himself with filling the eye of the man who was coaching his college trials. It's a time-honored privilege of the coach to use free language to his crew, and it doesn't give offense as a rule; but it seems to have offended Herbert. Young Australia don't like being sworn at, and Herbert admits that he swore back from his thwart, and said that he fancied he was as good a man as the coach, but he hoped to find out when they got to the boathouse. They did find out; and Herbert has at last filled up an old country eye; and for my part I don't think the less of him for doing so."
"The less!" cried Tiny, whose blue eyes were alight. "I think all the more of him. I'm proud of Herbs! You have too many of those savage old customs, Erskine; you need Young Australia to come and knock them on the head!"