Lord Nelson, our great Naval Commander, was, in his youth, remarkable for his disinterestedness and intrepidity. Among his school-fellows, he was always the first to do a noble thing; and, whenever he thoughtlessly joined others in doing a foolish one, he never shrank from the responsibility; but, instead of trying to shift the blame upon others, was always ready to take it upon himself. On one occasion, while at school, upon an approaching Fifth of November, the Rev. Mr. Jones, with whom Nelson went to school, at North Walsham, strictly prohibited any of the scholars from leaving the house or grounds, to go in search of what is called “Plunder;” that is, wood, sticks, and loose stubble, with which bonfires are generally constructed, and the getting of which sometimes plays sad havoc with hedges, railings, and the like. This was, indeed, a sad misfortune to the school-boys, who always feel that the best part of the fun of a Fifth of November is the prowling about for forage; and a glorious thing it has ever been and ever will be, to see boys bearing their boughs of trees, roots of trees, stumplings and hedgelings, into the grand square of the play-ground, with almost military honors. The shouting, the warm hands and hearts, the cheerful faces, the mad pranks, and the thousand laughable incidents which occur, give to these sports a charm unknown to any other youthful frolics. Nelson was not a boy to relinquish this old custom; and therefore, when before going to bed on the Fourth of November, the Reverend Dominie pronounced the interdiction, and solemnly warned the school-boys not to attempt any wild freaks on that day of brimstone-matches and fire-works, Nelson’s blood rose into his face, and he said, loudly— “I hope you don’t include me, Sir.” “Not include you, Sir?” replied the indignant Clergyman. “Indeed I do include you, Sir! and positively insist upon your keeping with the other boys in the school-room, and not to leave the play-ground.” “I can’t answer for myself, Sir,” replied Nelson; “and you can’t answer for the boys, I am sure. Such a thing was never heard of since the days of James the First.” “I do positively enjoin the strictest obedience to my commands,” said the Master, “and positively forbid any one from leaving the school premises to-morrow,” and, with a severe look at Nelson, the Master ordered the boys to bed on the instant. The lads of the school, in number about forty, were domiciled in one large bed-room. As soon as the doors were shut and the lights out, little Nelson leaped out of bed, and whispered, loud enough to be heard by all— “Who is for a sky-lark?” “I—I—I—I—I—I am,” responded a dozen voices; and, in the same moment, as many lads leaped out of their beds, and were jumping about the dormitory in their long bedgowns. “It is bright moonlight,” said Nelson. “What a beautiful night for a ramble,” said little Eugene Harris, the schoolmaster’s nephew.