"Hullo, new kid, what"s your name?"
"Paul Fife," said the newcomer, who had just been left by Dr. Rayne in the school playground, where boys of all sorts and sizes, from ten to fourteen, were congregated, newly arrived from home and holidays, and while they waited for the tea-bell, were inspecting the "new boys."
"Oh, "Paul," what a jolly name. "Paul Pry," "Poll parrot," "Polly put the kettle on." Well, Polly, and where do you come from?"
"Let him alone, Briggs," said the school captain (a pleasant-faced, tall boy). "Dr. Rayne asked me to look after him a bit. I say, though, young "un, call yourself "Fife," that"s quite enough; we don"t have Christian names here, you know."
"Well, Christy, you needn"t punch my head, I don"t want to harm the infant," cried Briggs. "He can tell me where he comes from, anyhow--can"t you, new kid?"
"I lived at Fort Caidman, in the Shan States--Burmah, you know."
"And what can you do, play football and cricket?"
"No, I have not really played them, but I want to. There were no white boys besides me, but I can shoot, and ride, and row, and fence, and throw darts."
A group of boys had gathered round--little Paul tried not to feel shy.
"Where did you row?" asked one; "was there a river?"
"Not near, but there was a big lake like a sea--the Inthas live there.
They are called lake-dwellers, and their huts stand on the top of the water--Uncle Ferrers took me to their huts sometimes. The Inthas row so funnily, partly with their legs. They can row, oh, so fast, and fish, and hold an umbrella, all at the same time!"
"Oh, I say, that must be a cram, anyhow. Tell the infant he must not tell lies, Christy."
"I don"t, and I won"t tell you things if you say that," and the child drew himself up haughtily and turned away, clenching his small brown fists.
"It is a shame, you chaps," said Christy. "I know he has come from some queer place in Burmah."
"Did you see his hair?" said Fane. "It"s as black as a coal, and just in one place is a white streak--he is a regular magpie. Hurrah! there"s the tea-bell."
"Oh, I have heard my mother say some one she knew had a lock of white hair--it looks rather jolly," rejoined Christy. "I say, little piebald, don"t mind our ragging. I"m awfully hungry, and I dare say you are.
There is cold beef always for tea first night of term--worth having, I can tell you. Come along with me, and I will show you where to sit."
Paul soon began to feel more at home as a small unit in the hundred boys at Oakwood.
"Wonderful at mathematics and no idea of cla.s.sics" (was the verdict of the masters), "but can talk Gramouki and Pushtan dialects like a native."
"No good at football and cricket, but promises well," said the boys, "and can climb and jump anything, and use his fists, too."
Ten days had pa.s.sed, and Dr. Rayne, at work in his library, was disturbed by a knock, and the matron entered.
"I am sorry to interrupt you, sir, but it is about that new little boy, Paul Fife. I cannot get him to eat his dinner properly; he seems hungry at first, and then leaves off--later, I look at his plate and it is cleared. I find from some of the boys that he puts the greater part of the meat in his pocket, and, I suppose, throws it away. I thought I had better come to you."
"Certainly; send Fife to me."
A timid step, and the small boy came shyly in.
"Come here, little man," the Doctor called, pleasantly. "I want to talk to you. You are not too big to get on my knee. No, I thought not. You see, you are one of my little boys now, and we all want to be as happy as possible. You are very thin; do they give you enough to eat?"
"Oh, yes, sir," the child pressed his hands nervously together.
"And you like what you get, I hope. We have not Burmese and Indian cooks, you know."
"Yes, I like it all, thank you."
"And yet Miss Owen tells me you do not eat your dinner, but pocket it--I hope you don"t waste and throw away good food, Paul."
"No, sir--indeed, no," the boy looked up earnestly.
"Then see that it doesn"t happen again, for I don"t want to punish you."
"Oh, what shall I do--what shall I do?" and to the astonishment of the doctor, the child covered his face, and his whole body shook with sobs.
"Control yourself, dear boy. No, I cannot allow such crying, you will make yourself ill. That is better. Now tell me anything in confidence, and I will see what can be done."
With an effort Paul gradually quieted, and then said: "Yes, I will tell you; please--please, I didn"t mean to be naughty, but I do love Boh so much. It is my dog; you saw him, and Uncle Ferrers took him away. I don"t know how he got loose, but several days ago he came running up to me in the cricket field--he was so thin, and his ear was torn--I was eating my lunch bun, and I gave him all I had left. He just gobbled it.
When some of the fellows came up, I sent Boh off, and he ran into the wood, but each day I whistle, when I can get by myself, and he comes; he is thinner than ever, so now I eat only part of my dinner even if I am hungry, but I save nearly all the meat for Boh. He is the oldest friend I have, for Uncle Ferrers says he came with me. He looks often as though he could speak and tell me whose little boy I used to be. Please, sir, I can do quite well with half a dinner, if he may have the other."
Dr. Rayne stroked the smooth, dark head, deeply touched by the boy"s story. "There," he said, "come with me, and let us see about this dog."
So hand in hand child and master pa.s.sed through the big school buildings, and out towards the breeze-swept cricket ground.
"It is a curious name for your dog," said the Doctor; "how do you spell it, B-e-a-u?"
"Oh, no, sir, B-o-h--it is Burmese. It means "head warrior" or chief fighting-man. Uncle Ferrers" Sikhs and Pathan soldiers called him that, because whenever he fought with the pye-dogs or other dogs, Boh always won. May I call Boh now?" (for they had reached the high ridge near the wood).
"Yes; I only hope he is still there."
"Boh! Boh!" the clear voice shouted, and then followed endearing words of Eastern dialect. A few seconds, and a joyful bark announced the delighted animal, who leapt up rapturously, his paws on the shoulders of his little master. The boy"s eyes shone as he raised them to Dr. Rayne, fearlessly, but the voice trembled as he urged: "If I might just see him now and then, we should neither of us mind so much."
"You shall, I will see to it. Now, bring Boh round to the stables, and John shall find him a kennel and a good dinner. There, there, I didn"t want so many thanks, dear boy; I wish I had thought of it before. Now, off to your form master, and I shall expect no more complaints from Miss Owen."
So Boh also became a member of Oakwood, and a letter was dispatched at once to Captain Ferrers relieving his mind as to the missing dog, who had found his way through so many miles of unknown country safe to his happy owner.
(_Concluded on page 90._)
WONDERFUL CAVERNS.
III.--THE MAMMOTH CAVE.
In the State of Kentucky, in the United States, not far from Louisville, is a table-land formed of limestone, perforated with holes like a sponge, down which rain rushes with great force. Far below run rivers, and there are also still, deep lakes partially fed by the water from above; and, as might have been expected, here also are the most wonderful caverns in the world. It is said that to explore all the halls and galleries communicating with each other, and connected with the Mammoth Cave alone, it would be necessary to walk or climb one hundred and fifty miles. This may well be believed when we hear that the cave contains fifty-seven domes, eleven lakes, seven rivers, eight cataracts, and two hundred and fifty-six avenues, besides thirty-two pits or abysses, and a Gothic church.