How the Tide Turned
How the Tide Turned
East and Mrs. Wixie
The turning-point in our heros school career had now come, and the manner of it was as follows. On the evening of the first day of the next half-year, Tom, East, and another School-house boy, who had just been dropped at the Spread Eagle by the old Regulator, rushed into the matrons room in high spirits, such as all real boys are in when they first get back, however fond they may be of home.
Well, Mrs. Wixie, shouted one, seizing on the methodical, active little dark-eyed woman, who was busy stowing away the linen of the boys who had already arrived into their several pigeon-holes, here we are again, you see, as jolly as ever. Let us help you put the things away.
And, Mary, cried another (she was called indifferently by either name), whos come back? Has the Doctor made old Jones leave? How many new boys are there?
Am I and East to have Grays study? You know you promised to get it for us if you could, shouted Tom.
And am I to sleep in Number 4? roared East.
Hows old Sam, and Bogle, and Sally?
Bless the boys! cries Mary, at last getting in a word, why, youll shake me to death. There, now do go away up to the housekeepers room and get your suppers; you know I havent time to talkyoull find plenty more in the house. Now, Master East, do let those things aloneyoure mixing up three new boys things. And she rushed at East, who escaped round the open trunks holding up a prize.
Hullo, look here, Tommy, shouted he, heres fun! and he brandished above his head some pretty little nightcaps, beautifully made and marked, the work of loving fingers in some distant country home. The kind mother and sisters, who sewed that delicate stitching with aching hearts, little thought of the trouble they might be bringing on the young head for which they were meant. The little matron was wiser, and snatched the caps from East before he could look at the name on them.
Now, Master East, I shall be very angry if you dont go, said she; theres some capital cold beef and pickles up-stairs, and I wont have you old boys in my room first night.
Hurrah for the pickles! Come along, Tommy; come along, Smith. We shall find out who the young Count is, Ill be bound: I hope hell sleep in my room. Marys always vicious first week.
As the boys turned to leave the room, the matron touched Toms arm, and said, Master Brown, please stop a minute, I want to speak to you.
Very well, Mary. Ill come in a minute, East; dont finish the pickles
Toms first Sight of Arthur
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