pains to be well dressed. Some one had brought into the school the information that it was proper to wear one's coat with the lowest button fastened. All the boys were now observing this graceful, negligent fashion; their coats were drawn snugly about their waists and bulged comfortably about their chests.
A tall master with a brown mustache and eye-glasses, almost as well dressed as any of the boys, and resting his hip on a cane, stood by the doorway.
Now and then a group of boys would stroll toward him and touch their hats; one of them would say, "Bounds, please, sir?" and he would answer, "Yes, Nelson," or, "All right, Jones." That meant that they were free to walk out into the country beyond the school limits.
Harry Harding stepped out on the lawn in front of the chapel and began throwing a tennis-ball back and forth with Joe Herrick, just as if it were not Sunday. The master looked up and saw him.
"Harding! Herrick!" called the master,
