“And is it you who dares to contradict me?” cried Mr O’Gallagher; “at all events, you won’t say it well to-morrow, so hold out your right hand.”
Poor Tommy held it out, and roared lustily at the first blow, wringing his fingers with the smart.
“Now your left hand, sir; fair play is a jewel; always carry the dish even.”
Tommy received a blow on his left hand, which was followed up with similar demonstrations of suffering.
“There sir you may go now,” said Mr O’Gallagher, “and mind you don’t do it again; or else there’ll be a blow-up. And now Master Keene, we come to the third and last, which is the birch for the tail—here it is—have you ever had a taste?”
“No, sir,” replied I.
“Well, then, you have that pleasure to come, and come it will, I don’t doubt, if you and I are a few days longer acquainted. Let me see—”
Here Mr O’Gallagher looked round the school, as if to find a culprit; but the boys, aware of what was going on, kept their eyes so attentively to their books, that he could not discover one; at last he singled out a fat chubby lad.
“Walter Puddock, come here, sir.”
Walter Puddock came accordingly; evidently he gave himself up for lost.