HE next morning some small excitement was created amongst the juniors

by the appearance of a new-comer, in the person of a delicate, fair-haired child, who seemed almost too fragile for school life. Being the middle of the term, it was somewhat unusual for new pupils to enter the school, so little Benjamin Lawrence's arrival just then was a great event to the members of the first two forms.

He was very small, looking no more than seven or eight years of age; but he conducted

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himself in a staid, old-fashioned way, in spite of any shyness he might feel. Of course every one supposed that he would make a suitable companion for Tom Fuller; and the head master seemed half inclined to forego the usual preliminaries, and send him at once to his own little son. But after a moment's hesitation he decided to put him through the usual form, and as Mr. Newman was just then engaged, he undertook the duty himself.

The little fellow went quietly up to the desk, and though he blushed very deeply, he showed no other sign of being disconcerted. He answered Dr. Fuller's questions in a simple but intelligent manner, which soon assured all listeners that he was not the baby they had imagined him.

'Very well indeed, my little fellow!' said the head master, patting him on the head. 'And how old may you be?'

'Nine, sir,' replied the child, looking up with

a faint smile.

'Who has taught you?' asked Dr. Fuller.

'I was at a day-school, sir, before we came

here; mamma used to teach me before that, and she helps me now sometimes.'

'You have no father, I think I heard?' said

the Doctor gently, as he glanced down at the little flaxen head so far below him.

'No, sir, I can't remember papa at all; he died when my little sister was only three weeks, and I was just two years old. Mother has no one to help her but me, and I want to make great haste, and be of real use to her. She calls me her "right hand" now, but I don't think I'm much more than a left one yet!' he added, looking up with a bright smile.

'Ah, well, my boy,' said the head master kindly. You hardly know how much even a little fellow like you can do to give his mother pleasure or pain. Go on trying to be the "son of her right hand," as your name implies. And now, I think I must put you in this class,' he continued, leading the boy to that in which Frank Leslie was placed. 'You are the youngest boy in it; but if you try, I think you may do as well as any of the others.'

'Are you to be a boarder or a day-boy?' inquired Frank eagerly, as soon as Dr. Fuller had returned to his place.

'Oh, a day-scholar. I could not leave mother -at least, I could if I was obliged; but she would not like me to be away from her every evening. I've come here because, you know, there are such good scholarships at this school; and if I could only get one, I might be able to go to Oxford, and perhaps turn out a learned man; or, at any rate, I should do something to be mother's real "right hand," shouldn't I?'

'Don't talk so much about your mother, though,' was Frank's whispered advice.

Lawrence opened his blue eyes at their widest. 'Why?' he asked.

'Oh, because the other chaps will chaff you awfully if you do. You see, they don't know anything about her, and they are always glad to be able to tease a fellow about his home, especially if they see he's fond of every one there. They often call me "Miss Fanny," because I talked about my sister the first day I came.'

'What donkeys they must be!' replied Law

rence.

'Oh, they won't always bother you,' said Frank; it's only if you look home-sick or mammy-sick when you first come that they do it. Grant would never do it, nor Fuller major; but there are not many fellows like them. I hope you'll belong to our set.'

'I daresay—I hardly know yet,' responded Lawrence cautiously.

'Well, look here,' said Frank, delighted, in spite of his two months' experience of school, to meet with another home boy, 'when we've time we'll have a good chat about home, shall we? I shall never chaff you about it, because I'm awfully fond of mine.'

Whilst this whispered conversation was going on, another, equally eager, was being carried on between Sinclair and Thornton, who had been intently watching little Lawrence ever since. his entrance into the schoolroom. There was apparently some 'good joke' between them, but it certainly could not transpire just at present, for Mr. Davenal called them up to begin work.