Once alone, he lingered over his tea. He knew he wouldn't be interrupted, and the contents of the table seemed doubly good now. He even looked at some books, and at last became so absorbed in one, that he went on reading, regardless of time, till he heard the boarders' prayer-bell ringing, at the sound of which he hurried off to bed. On the stairs he met the matron.
"Oh, Master Campbell, I was looking for you. You're changed into No. 7 dormitory. I put your box by your bed, so you'll know where you're to sleep. How are you now, dear," she added, kindly, "have you heard from your papa? when's he coming home? You'll try and be a good boy, won't you? You must think how it would vex your dear ma; and you won't give Doctor Palmer cause to cane you again, I know," and Miss Parker smoothed her apron, and took breath after her long-winded oration.
There it was at last. Harry feared it would come sooner or later, this allusion to the crib. He burst out indignantly,—
"Mamma believed me, Miss Parker, if nobody else did. She knew I didn't crib; but I won't bear it, I won't," he cried passionately, as he ran up-stairs to his new destination.
CHAPTER XII.
BULLYING.
"Gas out."—The new boy's turn—"To err is human"—Resistance—Persecution—I'll run away.
"Well, there now," ejaculated Miss Parker, "I never! That boy's not a bit brought down by his mother's death. He sticks to it, just as indignant as ever."
But Harry was out of hearing, and was sitting on his bed, staring into his box which he had just opened. Presently, there was a sound of footsteps scurrying up-stairs and along the passages, and the door of No. 7 dormitory burst open, and its sixteen boys rushed in one after another, huddling together like a flock of sheep.