"My dear Brady, if you knew the toil and time it has cost me to gather this bunch of crawly, you wouldn't ask me so lightly to waste it."
"If that's all," said Jack, "you can stick the whole lot down my neck. I give you free leave. Go on!"
There is no stronger influence than earnestness, and Jack was intensely in earnest. It had its effect on his listeners, who were almost won over already, while he thought his efforts were thrown away. While he spoke, Simmons had secretly released three earwigs with which he had meant mischief, and Hughes was opening his mouth to utter a word or two for Jack, when Cadbury glided up to the group with outspread arms, and a square box balanced on his head.
"Pax tea-cup! pax O biscuit!" began the flippant boy. "Dear brethren, I entreat you to join with me in smoking the calumet of peace in the shape of this humble weed."
As he bowed, the box fell from his head into his hands, and, removing the lid, he offered it round. It appeared to contain a double layer of cigars; but the Brincliffe scholars knew these cigars well, and where they came from. They were composed of almond paste, and coated with a brown sugary paper, which was always consumed with the rest.
Jack almost held his breath. Would the boys refuse or accept them?
Hughes dipped his hand in at once with a smile and a nod. "Thanks very much, Cadbury!" Simmons followed suit with a wicked little chuckle. Bacon hesitated, and then helped himself awkwardly. Frere took one with an "Oo!" of appreciation. Now it was Mason's turn. If Jack had been a recruiting sergeant, and the sugar cigar the Queen's shilling, he could scarcely have felt more anxious.
Mason put forward his thumb and finger, then hesitated and looked at Jack with a twinkle in his eye.
"Now, shall I, Brady?"
