Dolf Belman came later with a little comfort.

‘Gotter junk o’ rosum,’ he said, fumbling in his school-bag.

‘Hoo! have you though?’ said Parrot Cann.  ’Rosum’s great.  Put some on my hand oust when I went to ole Pepper’s school at Yarraman, an’ near died laughin’ when he gave me twenty cuts fer copy-in’ me sums.’

The boys clustered about Dolf, who produced a piece of resin about the size of a hen’s egg, and waved it triumphantly.

‘You pound it up wif a rock,’ said he confidently, ‘an’ rub it on yer hands.’

The pounding process was begun at once, amidst a babel of opinions.  It was a fond illusion amongst the boys that resin so applied deadened the effects of the cane.  It had been tried scores of times without in the least mitigating the agony of Ham’s cuts, but the faith of youth is not easily shaken; so Ted’s spirits revived wonderfully, and Dick developed a keen interest in the pounding.  Dolf pulverised the ‘rosum,’ declaring that it should be powdered in one particular way which was a great secret known only to a happy few.  If it were powdered in any other way, the resin lost its efficacy as a protection, and might even aggravate the pain.  Several boys volunteered testimony in support of Dolf’s claim, telling of the strange immunity they had enjoyed on various occasions after applying the resin, and Peter Queen distinctly remembered ’a feller up to Clunes’ who, by a judicious use of the powder, was enabled to defy all authority and preserve an attitude of hilarious derision under the most awful tortures.

’This here cove he useter have hisself rubbed all over wif rosum every mornin’, then he’d go to school an’ kick up ole boots.  What’d he care?  My word, he was a terror!’

Dolf took up the theme, and enlarged upon the virtues of resin, particularly that resin of his, which was the very best kind of resin for the purpose and had been specially commended by an old swaggie with one eye, who gave it to him for a four-bladed knife and a clay pipe.  So great was the effect of these representations that before Dick and Ted had transferred the powder to their pockets they had become objects of envy rather than commiseration, and one or two of their mates would gladly have changed places with them on the spot.

’Wouldn’t care if I was in fer it, ‘stead o’ you, Dick,’ said Peterson.  ‘Mus’ be an awful lark to have Hamlet layin’ it on, an’ you not feelin’ it all the time.’

‘My oath I’ said Jacker Mack feelingly.

‘Good morning, boys.’

Joel Ham, B.A., had stolen in amongst them, and stood there in an odd crow-like attitude, his mottled face screwed into an expression of quizzical amiability, and his daily bottle sticking obtrusively from the inside lining of his old coat.  The lads scattered sheepishly.

‘Peterson,’ he said, blinking his pale lashes a dozen times in rapid succession, ’the boy who thinks he can outwit his dear master is an egotist, and egotism, Peterson, is the thing which keeps us from profiting by the experiences of other fools.’