My Friend Smith | Page 9

got up the steam; and as for the other boys--they
skulked morosely through the process of dressing, and hardly uttered a
word. It was a beautiful day outside; the sun was lighting up the fields,
and the birds were singing merrily in the trees; but somehow or other
the good cheer didn't seem to penetrate inside the walls of Stonebridge
House.
I tried to get up a conversation with Flanagan, but he looked half-
frightened and half guilty as I did so.
"I say," said I, "couldn't we open the window and let some fresh air
in?"
(Mrs Hudson had always been strong on fresh air.)
"Look-out, I say," said Flanagan, in a frightened whisper; "you'll get us
all in a row!"
"In a row?" I replied. "Who with?"
"Why, old Hen; but shut up, do you hear?" and here he dipped his face
in the basin, and so effectually ended the talk.
This was quite a revelation to me. Get in a row with Miss Henniker for
speaking to one of my schoolfellows in the dormitory! A lively
prospect and no mistake.
Presently a bell rang, and we all wended our way down stairs into the
parlour where I had yesterday enjoyed my tete-a-tete with Miss
Henniker. Here we found that lady standing majestically in the middle
of the room, like a general about to review a regiment.
"Show nails!" she ejaculated, as soon as all were assembled.

This mysterious mandate was the signal for each boy passing before her,
exhibiting, as he did so, his hands.
As I was last in the procession I had time to watch the effect of this
proceeding. "Showing nails," as I afterwards found out, was a very old-
established rule at Stonebridge House, and one under which every
generation of "backward and troublesome boys" who resided there had
groaned. If any boy's hands or nails were, in the opinion of Miss
Henniker, unclean or untidy, he received a bad mark, and was at once
dismissed to the dormitory to remedy the defect.
One or two in front of me suffered thus, and a glance down at my own
extremities made me a little doubtful as to my fate. I did what I could
with them privately, but their appearance was not much improved.
At last I stood for inspection before the dreadful Henniker.
"Your hands are dirty, Batchelor. A bad mark. Go and wash them."
The bad mark, whatever it might mean, appeared to me very unjust.
Had I known the rule, it would have been different, but how was I to
know, when no one had told me?
"Please, ma'am, I didn't--"
"Two bad marks for talking!" was my only reply, and off I slunk,
feeling rather crushed, to the dormitory.
I found Flanagan scrubbing at our basin.
"Ah," said he, "I thought you'd get potted."
"I think it's a shame," said I.
"Look-out, I say," exclaimed Flanagan, skipping away as if he'd been
shot, and resuming his wash at the other basin.
Presently he came back on tip-toe, and whispered, "Why can't you talk
lower, you young muff?"

"Surely she can't hear, here up stairs?"
"Can't she? That's all you know! She hears every word you say all over
the place, I tell you."
I went on "hard all" at the nail-brush for a minute or so in much
perplexity.
"Keep what you've got to say till you get outside. Thank goodness,
she's rheumatic or something, and we can open our mouths there. I
say," added he, looking critically at my hands, "you'd better give those
nails of yours a cut, or you'll get potted again."
I was grateful for this hint, and felt in my pocket for my knife. In doing
so I encountered the box of sweets Mrs Hudson had left in my hand
yesterday, and which, amid other distractions, I had positively forgotten.
"Oh, look here," said I, producing the box, delighted to be able to do a
good turn to my friendly schoolfellow. "Have some of these, will you?"
Flanagan's face, instead of breaking out into grateful smiles, as I
anticipated, assumed a sudden scowl, and at the same moment Miss
Henniker entered the dormitory!
Quick as thought I plunged the box back into my pocket, and looked as
unconcerned as it was possible to do under the trying circumstances.
"Flanagan and Batchelor, a bad mark each for talking," said the now
painfully familiar voice. "What have you there, Batchelor?" added she,
holding out her hand. "Something Mrs Hudson gave me," I replied.
"I wish to see it."
I was prepared to resist. I could stand a good deal, but sheer robbery
was a thing I never fancied. However, a knowing look on Flanagan's
face warned me to submit, and I produced the box.
The lady took it