Master Pigeon, the successor of Master Weeks, was of better stature, but
loosely put together, and slender-limbed. A dreadfully nervous kind of
man he was, walked on tiptoe, started at sudden noises, was distressed
when he heard a whisper, had a quick, suspicious look, and was always
saying, "Hush?" and putting his hands to his ears. The boys were not
long in finding out this nervous weakness, of course. In less than a week
a regular system of torments was inaugurated, full of the most diabolical
malice and ingenuity. The exercises of the conspirators varied from day
to day, but consisted mainly of foot-scraping, solos on the slate-pencil,
(making it screech on the slate,) falling of heavy books, attacks of
coughing, banging of desk-lids, boot-creaking, with sounds as of drawing
a cork from time to time, followed by suppressed chuckles.

Master Pigeon grew worse and worse under these inflictions. The rascally
boys always had an excuse for any one trick they were caught at. "Could
n' help coughin', Sir." "Slipped out o' m' han', Sir." "Did n' go to,
Sir." "Did n' dew't o' purpose, Sir." And so on,--always the best of
reasons for the most outrageous of behavior. The master weighed himself
at the grocer's on a platform balance, some ten days after he began
keeping the school. At the end of a week he weighed himself again. He
had lost two pounds. At the end of another week he had lost five. He
made a little calculation, based on these data, from which he learned
that in a certain number of months, going on at this rate, he should come
to weigh precisely nothing at all; and as this was a sum in subtraction
he did not care to work out in practice, Master Pigeon took to himself
wings and left the school-committee in possession of a letter of
resignation and a vacant place to fill once more.

This was the school to which Mr. Bernard Langdon found himself appointed
as master. He accepted the place conditionally, with the understanding