"Fifty years ago manners were rougher and ruder in these islands than they are to-day. Prize-fighting was a respected and popular calling, and set fights between boys at school of all ages were of constant occurrence.
"A ring was soon formed around the combatants and though the majority of the onlookers resented what they called the 'coxiness' of the new boy and wanted to see him get a licking, there were quite a number of young barbarians whose sympathies were entirely with Leroux, for his pluck in engaging in a fight on his first day at school made a strong appeal to them. The boys were evenly matched, for though Kennedy was more than a year older, he was no taller, and little if any stronger than his opponent, who, moreover, had had a certain amount of instruction from his father in the use of his fists. The battle had lasted for some minutes, and had been waged with the greatest determination on both sides, and no very severe damage to either participant, when the door at the end of the room opened and Mr. Mann, the tall young Scotch mathematical master, strode into the room. Taking in the position at a glance, he elbowed his way through the crowd of boys, who were watching the fight, and seizing the combatants simultaneously, each in one of his strong large hands, he whirled them apart, and held them out of reach of one another, though they both strained hard to resume the fray.
"'You young rascals,' he said, 'why what on earth are you fighting about, and on the first day of the term too! Now tell me what on earth it was all about and make it up.'
"'He called me a Frenchman, and I'm not,' said young Leroux, and the stress of battle over, the poor boy commenced to sob.
"A more generous lad than Jim Kennedy never stepped, and at the sight of his adversary's distress, his dark eyes filled with tears, and as Mr. Mann relaxed his grasp on his shoulder, he at once came forward with outstretched hand to Leroux and said, 'I'll never call you a Frenchy again; shake hands and let us be friends.' And so the two tearful young Britons, each of whose faces bore some traces of the recent battle, shook hands and from that time forth, as long as they were at school together, became the most devoted of friends.
"This was John Leroux's first introduction to school life. Like any other healthy vigorous boy, he soon shook off the despondency of homesickness, and became perfectly happy in his new surroundings. He worked well and conscientiously at his lessons, and played hard at all games, and was not only a general favourite with all his school-fellows, but was also beloved by all the masters in spite of the fact that his adventurous disposition was constantly leading him to transgress all the rules of the school. With young Leroux the love of nature and the desire for the acquisition of objects of natural history of all kinds was an inborn and absorbing passion. Before leaving home he had already commenced to make collections of birds' eggs and butterflies, and throughout his schooldays his interest in these and kindred subjects constantly grew. During the spring and summer months all his time that was not occupied in lessons or games was spent in birds'-nesting and collecting butterflies, whilst in the winter he trapped and skinned water rats and other small animals, and sometimes caught a stoat or a weasel. He soon became by far the best and most venturesome climber in the whole school, and there was not a rook's nest in any one of the fine old elms or oak-trees in which these birds built in the park in which the schoolhouse stood, from which he was not able to get the eggs, which for the most part he gave away to less athletic or adventurous collectors. After he had been espied on one occasion high up amongst the nests in one of the tallest elm-trees by the headmaster himself, who was genuinely alarmed for his safety, all tree-climbing in the park was forbidden. This rule was, of course, constantly broken, and by no one more frequently than by Leroux. However, as it takes some time to climb to a rook's nest, and as a boy is a conspicuous object amongst the topmost branches of a tree in the early spring before the leaves are out, our young friend was constantly being detected either by one of the undermasters or one of the men working in the grounds, who had all had strict orders to be on the watch. It was owing to this persecution, as he considered it, that Leroux conceived the idea of taking the rooks' eggs he wanted at night, and with the help of Kennedy and another kindred spirit he made several raids on the rookery with perfect success when all the masters were in bed. The dormitories were on the first story and therefore not very high above the ground, and as the walls of the house were covered with ivy, it was not very difficult for an active boy to get out of the window and down or up the ivy-covered wall, with the help of the rope which Leroux brought from home in his portmanteau after one Christmas holiday. Having allowed sufficient time to pass after Mons. Delmar, the French master, had made his nightly rounds to see that all the boys were snug in bed, and all lights out, Leroux and Kennedy, who were in the same dormitory, and who had both apparently been fast asleep when the French master passed through the room, suddenly woke up and producing a candle and a box of matches from beneath their respective pillows, kindled a light and hastily made their preparations. The window having been softly opened, one end of the rope was fastened to one of the legs of the nearest bed, whilst the free end was lowered down the wall to the ground. This having been accomplished the candle was blown out, and then Leroux and Kennedy climbed down the ivy with the help of the rope. Although all the boys in the dormitory took the greatest interest in these proceedings and were ready to render any assistance necessary, a boy named Barnett always hauled up the rope as soon as the adventurers were on the ground, and hid it under the bed near the window in case of accidents until their return, for which he kept a sharp look-out. Once on the ground Leroux and his companion made their way to one or other of several large oak-trees in the park in which there were a number of rooks' nests; for these oaks were not only not as lofty as the elms, but were, moreover, much easier to climb. Kennedy, though a fairly good climber, was not the equal of Leroux in this respect, and after assisting the latter to reach the lowest branches, he always waited for his return at the foot of the tree. When the rooks were thus rudely disturbed at night, they always made what seemed to the two boys a most appalling noise, but if anyone ever heard it he never guessed the true cause, or took any steps to investigate its meaning, and although during three successive years the two boys raided the rookery on several different occasions, their escapades were never discovered or even suspected. Once, however, they only just got back into their dormitory before the policeman made his nightly round. As a rule he did not make his circuit of the house flashing his lantern on all the windows until after midnight, but on the occasion in question he came much earlier than usual, and Leroux and Kennedy had only just scrambled up the ivy-covered wall, and reached their room with the assistance of the rope which the watchful Barnett had let down for them, when they saw the policeman's lantern flash round the end of the house, through their still open window, which they then closed very cautiously without making any noise. It was the policeman's nightly round of the house, which was thus so forcibly brought to his notice, that gave Leroux an idea, which he and Kennedy and Barnett, together with some other boys, subsequently acted upon with great success. This was nothing more nor less than to play a practical joke on the policeman by hanging a dummy figure out of the window one night, on which he would be sure to flash his lantern when he made his round of the house. In each dormitory there was a huge clothes-basket, not very high but very capacious, and choosing an evening when their basket was very full of clothes for the wash, Leroux and his friends, with the help of a bolster, a coat, shirt, and pair of trousers, and some of the contents of the clothes-basket, made a very good imitation of the figure of a boy. The top end of the bolster which was pinched in a little lower down by the shirt collar, made a nice round ball for the head, and on this a mask and a tow wig, which had been bought just before Guy Fawkes day, were fixed. Then the rope which had done such good service on the occasions of the raids on the rookery, was fastened round the dummy figure's neck, and the really meritorious imitation of a dead boy lowered out of the window and allowed to dangle some six feet beneath it. The head, which with its mask and wig of tow now hung over to one side, gave the somewhat podgy and certainly very inanimate looking figure quite a realistic appearance. The work of preparing this figure after the French master had been round the dormitories, occupied the boys some time, and when at last, after the rope had been fastened round its neck, it was lowered out of the window, it was past eleven o'clock. The boys then took it in turns to watch for the coming of the policeman, each watcher kneeling at the window well wrapped in his bedclothes. It was Barnett who was on duty when at last the policeman came. 'Cavy,' he whispered, 'here he comes,' and all the boys, whose excitement had kept them awake, made their way to the window, across which the light of the lantern soon flashed. The result was immediate and exceeded the utmost expectations of Leroux and his companions. The policeman—a young man but lately enrolled in the force—was seen to be gesticulating and shouting at the top of his voice, evidently trying to attract the attention of those in the room above him, from which the boy figure, with its ghastly pale cardboard face, hung dangling at the end of a rope. There was, however, no response from the listening boys. Suddenly the policeman ceased his outcries, and running down the footpath turned the corner of the house. Immediately after there was a terrific banging at the front door, accompanied by loud shouting. 'Quick,' said Leroux, 'up with the window, and let's get the dummy in.' At the same time Kennedy ran to the further door of the dormitory and holding it slightly ajar, peered out on the landing, which overlooked the large hall at the end of which was the main entrance of the house from whence all the noise proceeded. And now anxious voices were heard, and lights appeared from all directions. 'Old Rex'—the headmaster—'has opened the hall door,' said Kennedy, 'and is talking to the policeman. My eye,' he continued, 'Old Cockeye's there too, she's crying out and snuffling like a good 'un.' I grieve to say that 'Old Cockeye' was the disrespectful nickname which had been given by the boys to the matron—a most exemplary lady with an unfortunate squint in the left eye. And now there was a babble of approaching voices as the party in the hall rapidly ascended the staircase leading to the dormitories. Kennedy softly closed the door at which he had been listening, and already Leroux and Barnett had shut the window after having pulled up the rope with the dummy figure attached to the end of it, which was hastily thrust under the nearest bed. 'Mind we're all asleep; we don't know anything about it,' said Kennedy in a loud whisper as he jumped into his bed and composed his features into an appearance of placid innocence, which indeed was the attitude adopted by all the other boys in the room. Then the dormitory door was thrown wide open and the headmaster rushed in, candle in hand, closely followed by the policeman, the matron and two of the undermasters. At the same time the door of the other end of the room was flung open, and a strange half-clad figure, with wild eyes and candle in hand, came forward amongst the sleeping boys not one of whom, strange to say, showed the slightest sign of having been in any way disturbed by all the hubbub. 'Mon Dieu,' said Mons. Delmar, 'qu'est-ce qu'il y a donc?' as he ran to meet the headmaster. The latter was indeed a pathetic figure as he stood half-dressed looking round the room with wild eyes, his long grey hair falling over his shoulders. In his right hand he held a candlestick, whilst his left was clasped over his forehead. 'Great God,' he said, 'no—no—impossible,' as if talking to himself, and then suddenly turning to the policeman, 'Why, officer, you must be mistaken, every boy is here in his bed.'
"'I seed him, sir; I seed him with my own eyes, indeed I did,' answered the policeman.
"'Oh, deary, deary, deary me,' wailed the matron, whose unfortunate obliquity of vision had gained her so irreverent a nickname.
"'Which window was it, officer?' asked the headmaster.
"'The one near the end of the room,' replied the policeman. In another moment the window in question was thrown wide open and several heads were protruded into the cold night air.