Totally unconscious of the cause of Alf's
sudden interest in his anatomy, and wondering,
farther, why he should prefer the oblique
mode of observation referred to, Madonna,
nevertheless, frankly extended his hands,
which Alf examined with much interest,
feeling and pinching the well-defined muscles,
and the firm yet flexible joints.

"Tough work, I expect!" muttered Alf
thoughtfully, and let it fall.

Madonna opened his magnificent blue eyes
to their full extent, and could by no means
make it out; but the next moment classes
were called, and no more opportunity was
afforded for general conversation till the
school rose.

At the first stroke of the clock the entire
body, seniors and juniors, started up, and,
with a wild shout, rushed to the playground,
Madonna yielding readily to the common
impulse, and rather curious to see what was
to follow.

Arrived at the scene of expected action,
his doubts were quickly resolved. Alf himself
curtly informed him that, according to
the custom of the school, it was necessary to
decide, without an hour's delay, which was
the better man, and entitled to the position
of junior cock.

Madonna coloured to the eyes.

"I cannot fight," he said.

"You admit," said Bathurst, "that I can
lick you, and may kick you also, if I please?"

This was a mere formula; but Madonna
took it differently.

"You have no right to touch me," said
Madonna, "but I can't fight—and I won't
fight."

He turned away.

The eager crowd were, for a moment,
stunned with surprise. Wonder and
incredulity were stamped on every face. The boy
who was marking out the ring stopped as
though petrified. The senior cock himself
betrayed as much emotion as was consistent
with his dignity. I must not dwell upon
this scene. It was too true—Madonna
declined to acknowledge Alf the better
man, and yet refused to fight! There was
but one inevitable conclusion—he was a
coward!

At first it was hoped he was jesting;
chaffing and remonstrance were tried—both
were inefficacious—fight he would not. In
this dilemma, Robert Lindsay stepped up to
the still blushing Madonna, and taking him
by the arm led him a few paces apart. The
two conversed eagerly in an under-tone,
while we anxiously watched the conversation.
At last, Lindsay was observed to give an
almost convulsive start. He carried his
hand to his forehead, gazed for a moment in
his companion's face, burst into a wild laugh,
and turned upon his heel.

"Gentlemen," he said, "Mr. Bright persists
in declining the contest." (Bob Lindsay
was always choice in his expressions.) "But
the reason he assigns for it, will hardly obtain
credence in an assembly of British boys.
He has given his word of honour to his
mamma to be careful of his general beauty
(of which, it would appear, that lady is
justly proud); but especially of his fine
eyes; and he is pledged never to expose
those cherished organs to the chances of a
fistic encounter."

Howls of derision followed this speech,
mingled with shouts of genuine laughter—
one chap throwing himself on the ground,
tearing up the grass, and flinging it about
him, in ecstasies of mirth.

"I have," resumed the senior cock,
"pointed out to him the inevitable
consequences. He is immovable. I leave the
matter in your hands, and only regret that I
should have been allured to the extremity of
the playground on the pretence of a fight
which was not to take place."

"Coward! Milksop! Send for his mamma!
Where's Hannah with the pap-boat? " &c.
&c., yelled the incensed and disappointed
crowd.

Poor Madonna turned from red to white,
and looked as though he would have cried,
but for a strange fire in his eyes that seemed
to burn up the tears. It was a miserable
sight. But how could we pity him? A
fellow with a wrist like the fetlock of a
thorough-bred, who almost admitted he could
fight, and wouldn't! What was a black eye,
or a mouse on the cheek, compared with the
horrible scorn of boys?

Alf Bathurst had a spice of the bully.
Thinking, moreover, to fall in with the
popular view, he walked up to Madonna, and
slapped him smartly on the face. Strange to
say, the latter seemed scarcely to feel this
additional insult. Some applause followed;
but Robert Lindsay suddenly re-appeared in
our midst, and made another speech.

"Gentlemen," said Bob, "far be it from
me to condemn your honest indignation—but
let us not stoop to be bullies and persecutors.
To my mind, a coward is an object of
compassion, not of resentment. Nature dozed
over his composition, and omitted the most
common and familiar ingredient of our mixed
humanity. I have," added the kind-hearted
cock, "no title to dictate lines of conduct
to the junior division; but I will say
this, whoever shows consideration to this
unlucky stranger, is the friend of Robert
Lindsay."

Boys are queer animals. No one would
believe it possible, that, after the scene of the
morning, Madonna would become, by
bedtime, one of the most popular fellows in the
school! By Jove, he was! When he
recovered his spirits a little, we began to find
out (fighting aside) what a jolly chap he was
—gay, generous—with altogether the sweetest
temper I ever knew; he didn't know
what malice was and would have been on
good terms, even with Bathurst. The latter,