"A friend of mine went over to the tar-and-feather islands," said Millichip, executing an aggravating war-dance round about Charley. "He found the natives sporting no end of charms and amulets--nearly all the attire they did sport--rings in the nose and chains in the ears. What relation are those natives to you, Miss Charlotte?" "Don't injure it, please," pleaded Van Rheyn. "We've an ancient nurse at home who carries the tip of a calf's tongue in her pocket for luck," shrieked Thorne. "And I've heard--I _have_ heard, Bristles--that any fellow who arms himself with a pen'orth of blue-stone from the druggist's, couldn't have the yellow jaundice if he tried. What might you wear this for, pray?" "My Aunt Annette gave it me as a present when she was dying," answered poor helpless Charley, who had never the smallest notion of taking chaff otherwise than seriously, or of giving chaff back again. He had dressed himself to his trousers and shirt, and stood with his hand stretched out, waiting for his cross. "In the _Worcester Journal_, one day last June, I read an advertisement as big as a house, offering a child's caul for sale," cried Snepp. "Any gentleman or lady buying that caul and taking it to sea, could never be drowned. Bristles thinks as long as he wears this, he won't come to be hanged." "How's your grandmother, Miss Charlotte?" "I wish you would please to let me alone," said he patiently. "My father would not have placed me here had he known." "Why don't you write and tell him, Bristles?" "I would not like to grieve him," simply answered Charley. "I can bear. And he does so much want me to learn good English." "This cross is gold, I suppose?" said Bill Whitney, who now had it. "Yes, it is gold," answered Van Rheyn. "I wouldn't advise you to fall amongst thieves, then. They might ease you of it. The carving must be worth something." "It cost a great deal to buy, I have heard my aunt say. Will you be so good as to give it me, that I may finish to dress myself?" Whitney handed him the cross. Time was up, in fact; and we had to make a race for the house. Van Rheyn was catching it hot and sharp, all the way. One might have thought that his very meekness, the unresisting spirit in which he took things, would have disarmed the mockery. But it did not. Once go in wholesale for putting upon some particular fellow in a school, and the tyranny gains with use. I don't think any of them meant to be really unkind to Van Rheyn; but the play had begun, and they enjoyed it. I once saw him drowned in tears. It was at the dusk of evening. Charley had come in for it awfully at tea-time, I forget what about, and afterwards disappeared. An hour later, going into Whitney's room for something Bill asked me to fetch, I came upon Charles Van Rheyn--who also slept there. He was sitting at the foot of his low bed, his cheek leaning on one of his hands, and the tears running down swiftly. One might have thought his heart was broken.