“Certainly, sir. But he has a very bad record.”
“Humph! Tells the truth, though,” said the doctor. “Here, sir, what’s your name?”
“Obed Coleby.”
“Sir!” cried the master.
“Obed Coleby, sir,” said the boy quickly, correcting himself.
“What a name!” ejaculated the doctor.
“Yes, ain’t it? I hates it, sir.”
“Oh! you do?”
“Yes; the boys all make fun of it, and call me Bed, and Go-to-bed, and Old Bedstead, and when they don’t do that, they always call me Old Coal bag or Coaly.”
“That will do, sir. Don’t chatter so,” said Mr Sibery reprovingly.