“I'm very sorry,” said Tom.
“You couldn't help it; no one can manage those two. Murphy is quite different, but I should have spoiled him if I had let him stay now.”
The remaining half hour passed off quietly. Tom retired into the inner room, and took up Grey's lesson, which he had been reading to the boys from a large Bible with pictures. Out of consideration for their natural and acquired restlessness, the little fellows, who were all between eight and eleven years old, were only kept sitting at their pothooks and spelling for the first half hour or so, and then were allowed to crowd round the teacher, who read and talked to them, and showed them the pictures. Tom found the Bible open at the story of the prodigal son, and read it out to them as they clustered round his knees. Some of the outside ones fidgeted about a little, but those close round him listened with ears, and eyes, and bated breath; and two little blue-eyed boys, without shoes—their ragged clothes concealed by long pinafores which their widowed mother had put on clean to send them to school—leaned against him and looked up in his face, and his heart warmed to the touch and the look. “Please, teacher, read it again,” they said when he finished; so he read it again and sighed when Grey came in and lighted a candle (for the room was getting dark) and said it was time for prayers.
A few collects, and the Lord's Prayer, in which all the young voices joined, drowning for a minute the noises from the court outside, finished the evening's schooling. The children trooped out, and Grey went to speak to the woman who kept the house. Tom, left to himself, felt strangely happy, and, for something to do, took the snuffers and commenced a crusade against a large family of bugs, who, taking advantage of the quiet, came cruising out of a crack in the otherwise neatly papered wall. Some dozen had fallen on his spear when Grey reappeared, and was much horrified at the sight. He called the woman and told her to have the hole carefully fumigated and mended.
“I thought we had killed them all long ago,” he said; “but the place is tumbling down.”
“It looks well enough,” said Tom.
“Yes, we have it kept as tidy as possible. It ought to be at least a little better than what the children see at home.” And so they left the school and court and walked up to college.
“Where are you going?” Tom said, as they entered the gate.
“To Hardy's rooms; will you come?”
“No, not to-night,” said Tom; “I know that you want to be reading; I should only interrupt.”