“Mr. Smith’s nephew.”

“Oh, that big bully I saw on the playground?”

“Hush!” said Crabb, apprehensively.  “Mr. Smith would not like to have you speak so of his nephew.”

“So, Mr. Crabb is afraid of the cad,” soliloquized Hector.  “I suppose I may think what I please about him,” he added, smiling pleasantly.

“Ye-es, of course; but, Master Roscoe, let me advise you to be prudent.”

“Is he in your class?”

“Yes.”

“Is he much of a scholar?”

“I don’t think he cares much for Latin and Greek,” answered Mr. Crabb.  “But I must ring the bell.  I see that it wants but five minutes of nine.”

“About my desk?”

“Here is another vacant desk, but it is not as well located.”

“Never mind.  I will take it.  I shall probably have a better neighbor.”

The bell was rung.  Another teacher appeared, an elderly man, who looked as if all his vitality had been expended on his thirty years of teaching.  He, too, was shabbily dressed—­his coat being shiny and napless, and his vest lacking two out of the five original buttons.

“I guess Smith doesn’t pay very high salaries,” thought Hector.  “Poor fellows.  His teachers look decidedly seedy.”

The boys began to pour in, not only those on the playground, but as many more who lived in the village, and were merely day scholars.  Jim Smith stalked in with an independent manner and dropped into his seat carelessly.  He looked around him patronizingly.  He felt that he was master of the situation.  Both ushers and all the pupils stood in fear of him, as he well knew.  Only to his uncle did he look up as his superior, and he took care to be on good terms with him, as it was essential to the maintenance of his personal authority.

Last of all, Mr. Smith, the learned principal, walked into the schoolroom with the air of a commanding general, followed by Allan Roscoe, who he had invited to see the school in operation.

Socrates Smith stood upright behind his desk, and waved his hand majestically.

“My young friends,” he said; “this is a marked day.  We have with us a new boy, who is henceforth to be one of us, to be a member of our happy family, to share in the estimable advantages which you all enjoy.  Need I say that I refer to Master Roscoe, the ward of our distinguished friend, Mr. Allan Roscoe, who sits beside me, and with interest, I am sure, surveys our institute?”

As he spoke he turned towards Mr. Roscoe, who nodded an acknowledgment.

“I may say to Mr. Roscoe that I am proud of my pupils, and the progress they have made under my charge. (The principal quietly ignored the two ushers who did all the teaching.) When these boys have reached a high position in the world, it will be my proudest boast that they were prepared for the duties of life at Smith Institute.  Compared with this proud satisfaction, the few paltry dollars I exact as my honorarium are nothing—­absolutely nothing.”