withdrew. Every one worshipped Miss Eleanor; but that's neither here
nor there. A moment later Mr. Blake put the question which stands
at the commencement of this chapter.

The new-comer's answer made a favourable impression on the minds of his
companions, and as soon as the morning's work was over, they set about
the task of mutual introduction in a far more friendly manner than was
customary on these occasions. He was a wiry little chap, with bright
eyes, for ever on the twinkle, and black hair pasted down upon his head,
so as not to show the slightest vestige of curl, while the sharp,
mischievous look on his face, and the quick, comical movements of his
body, suggested something between a terrier and a monkey.

There was never very much going on in the way of regular sports or
pastimes at The Birches; the smallness of numbers made it difficult to
attempt proper games of cricket or football, and the boys were forced to
content themselves with such substitutes as prisoner's base, cross tag,
etc., or in carrying out the projects of Fred Acton, who was constantly
making suggestions for the employment of their time, and compelling
everybody to conform to his wishes.

Mr. Welsby had been a widower for many years; he was a grave, scholarly
man, who spent most of his spare time in his own library. Mr. Blake was
supposed to take charge out of school hours; he was, as every one said,
"a jolly fellow," and the fact that his popularity extended far and wide
among a large circle of friends and acquaintances, caused him to have a
good many irons in the fire of one sort and another. During their hours
of leisure, therefore, the Birchites were left pretty much to their own
devices, or more often to those of Master Fred Acton, who liked, as has
already been stated, to assume the office of bellwether to the little