The whole school rushed noisily into the play-ground.  The new boys were told to go into the middle, while the others stationed themselves along opposite walls.  They began to play Pig in the Middle.  The old boys ran from wall to wall while the new boys tried to catch them:  when one was seized and the mystic words said—­one, two, three, and a pig for me—­he became a prisoner and, turning sides, helped to catch those who were still free.  Philip saw a boy running past and tried to catch him, but his limp gave him no chance; and the runners, taking their opportunity, made straight for the ground he covered.  Then one of them had the brilliant idea of imitating Philip’s clumsy run.  Other boys saw it and began to laugh; then they all copied the first; and they ran round Philip, limping grotesquely, screaming in their treble voices with shrill laughter.  They lost their heads with the delight of their new amusement, and choked with helpless merriment.  One of them tripped Philip up and he fell, heavily as he always fell, and cut his knee.  They laughed all the louder when he got up.  A boy pushed him from behind, and he would have fallen again if another had not caught him.  The game was forgotten in the entertainment of Philip’s deformity.  One of them invented an odd, rolling limp that struck the rest as supremely ridiculous, and several of the boys lay down on the ground and rolled about in laughter:  Philip was completely scared.  He could not make out why they were laughing at him.  His heart beat so that he could hardly breathe, and he was more frightened than he had ever been in his life.  He stood still stupidly while the boys ran round him, mimicking and laughing; they shouted to him to try and catch them; but he did not move.  He did not want them to see him run any more.  He was using all his strength to prevent himself from crying.

Suddenly the bell rang, and they all trooped back to school.  Philip’s knee was bleeding, and he was dusty and dishevelled.  For some minutes Mr. Rice could not control his form.  They were excited still by the strange novelty, and Philip saw one or two of them furtively looking down at his feet.  He tucked them under the bench.

In the afternoon they went up to play football, but Mr. Watson stopped Philip on the way out after dinner.

“I suppose you can’t play football, Carey?” he asked him.

Philip blushed self-consciously.

“No, sir.”

“Very well.  You’d better go up to the field.  You can walk as far as that, can’t you?”

Philip had no idea where the field was, but he answered all the same.

“Yes, sir.”

The boys went in charge of Mr. Rice, who glanced at Philip and seeing he had not changed, asked why he was not going to play.

“Mr. Watson said I needn’t, sir,” said Philip.

“Why?”

There were boys all round him, looking at him curiously, and a feeling of shame came over Philip.  He looked down without answering.  Others gave the reply.