"There," said the principal of the academy finally, "I am not going to be
teacher any more. Who wants my chance may have it."

"And I won't belong to this old club any more," said Wort, smarting under
the castigation he had received. "Who wants my chance may have it."

"'Tith an old club," sobbed Pip, "and who wantth my chanth may have it."

"O, fellers, let's not get mad," said the president.

"Pooh!" exclaimed the governor. "You can say so, who gave all the
lickin's."

"And not had one yourself," said Charlie.

"O, fellers, don't get mad," besought Sid once more. "You know it was for
your good."

This last remark was greeted with sneers, showing that Sid's labors for
the welfare of youth were not appreciated. There was not only a
determination to get mad, but to stay mad. Besides, the offended ones were
moving toward the door, and this in a quarrel always looks bad.

"Let it go," said Sid. "I did not mean to hurt you. Come, let's march down
stairs. I was going to have you march down stairs properly, just as we do
at school. Come, let's form a line."

"Yes, and you be cap'n," sulked Wort.