Samuel wriggled uncomfortably in his chair, but to his surprise, his neighbor on the right reached over and grasped his knee with friendly force. Samuel instantly responded by seizing the stranger's knee, and, fortified by this unlooked-for support, threw back his head and eyed in turn each lad at the table. There was something in his fearless glance that caused the hisses quickly to subside; and when the bell rang, and the students trooped out, no word of challenge was offered to him. Moreover, no other kind of words came either, for it was the hour of recreation, and the boys swarmed the campus, shouting, whistling, singing, and engaging in various athletic games. The most popular sports seemed to be leap-frog and basting-the-bear, for groups everywhere were indulging in these rollicking pastimes. Samuel stood alone watching, for even his neighbor at table had joined the merry-makers. He decided that if he wished to become one of them he must make a bold move; so, marching up to one of the leap-frog companies, he ventured to enter the game. The effort was quickly foiled, however, for one pupil seized him by the leg, another by the hair, while twenty voices shouted at once,-- "Clear out! Don't you know you can't play with us till you get your blue coat?" Samuel retired, much crestfallen, wondering when he should be promoted to the prevailing uniform. He wandered up and down the schoolyard, watching here, watching there, hearing never a word of greeting, nor meeting with a friendly nod or smile. At length he came upon an outer stairway, which seemed to lead somewhere, and climbing it, more with the desire to get away from the hordes of strangers than to explore the premises, he came out upon a flat, leaded roof. Resting his folded arms upon the parapet, he stood gazing at the evening sky, solitary and sad. Up to him came the shouts of the students and the roar of the city's noises, and for the first time since he had come to London, his heart turned back with a mighty longing to the fields, the river, and the simple folk of his native village. If only he might hear the lapping of the water and the tinkling of the sheep bells, he would give all that he possessed in the world. He thought of his mother and of his big brother Luke, and the vision of their faces came before him with such startling plainness that he set his teeth and clenched his hands to stem the tide of homesickness that surged over him. At sound of the deep-toned bell, he hurried down the stair, suspecting that the slender supper was about to be supplemented by a tea or luncheon of some sort; but he was mistaken, for, although the western sky was still ablaze, the boys were filing toward the dormitories. "This way, Coleridge," called the steward, appearing on the green. "Where are they going?" inquired Samuel. "To bed," rejoined the other briefly. "To bed!" ejaculated Samuel; "why, it's only seven o'clock!"