Of course, he had had hard lines in his father's death, in the necessity for finding work, and again in his mother's illness; but he could not tell all the world that. The Deanery fellows bothered little about his misfortunes; in their eyes the thing would be simple enough: he had failed even to get into the first six, and there was an end of it.
When he got home that night, he said nothing of the news; so that his mother, who rarely bought a paper, did not know that the list was out.
"She will know soon enough," he thought bitterly, "and on Sunday I shall have to tell Susie."
CHAPTER X.
GOING DOWN HILL.
Nowhere was the result of the examination received with greater surprise than at the Deanery School. It is safe to say that every boy looked twice at the published list before admitting Jim Hartland's name was not there.
On the following morning the boys of the upper classes, gathering together in the playground, discussed the matter excitedly.
"It's just what I've always said," exclaimed Simpson; "the chap's no better than the rest of us. Just because he can play cricket a bit, we put him on the top of a monument, and now, down he comes—flop!"
"Well, you needn't be afraid of tumbling," laughed little Macdonald, "because you'll never be put on the top of anything. You're always having a dig at Hartland, because he wouldn't have you in the cricket eleven."
"Well said, Alec!" cried the Angel. "That's the truth. Now look at me. I came out fourth."