"Well, of course you had no choice but to cane him," replied his colleague, "for such disobedience; but how did he take it?" "In the oddest way possible. He came in with punctilious politeness, obviously assumed, with sarcastic intentions. When I took up the cane he stood with arms folded, and a singularly dogged look; in fact, his manner disarmed me. You know I detest caning, and I really could not do it, never having had occasion for it for months together. I gave him two cuts, and then left off. `May I go, sir?' he asked. `Yes,' I said, and he left the room with a bow and a `Thank you, sir.' I am really sorry for the boy; for as I was obliged to send him to Dr Lane, he will probably get another flogging from him." "What a worthless boy he must be," answered Mr Robertson. "No, not exactly worthless; there's something about him I can't help liking; but most impudent and stubborn." "Excuse me," said Mr Percival, another of the masters, who had been listening attentively to the conversation; "I humbly venture to think that you're both mistaken in that boy. I like him exceedingly, and think him as promising a lad as any in the school. I never knew any boy behave more modestly and respectfully." "Why, how do you know anything of him?" asked Mr Robertson in surprise. "Only by accident. I had once or twice noticed him among the _detenus_, and being sorry to think that a new boy should be an _habitue_ of the extra schoolroom, I asked him one day why he was sent. He told me that it was for failing in a lesson, and when I asked why he hadn't learnt it, he said, very simply and respectfully, `I really did my very best, sir; but it's all new work to me.' Look at the boy's innocent, engaging face, and you will be sure that he was telling me the truth. "I'm afraid," continued Mr Percival, "you'll think this very slight ground for setting my opinion against yours; but I was pleased with Evson's manner, and asked him to come and take a stroll on the shore, that I might know something more of him. Do you know, I never found a more intelligent companion. He was all life and vivacity; it was quite a pleasure to be with him. Being new to the sea, he didn't know the names of the commonest things on the shore, and if you had seen his face light up as he kept picking up whelk's eggs, and mermaid's purses, and zoophytes, and hermit-crabs, and bits of plocamium or coralline, and asking me all I could tell him about them, you would not have thought him a stupid or worthless boy." "I don't know, Percival; _you_ are a regular conjuror. All sorts of ne'er-do-wells succeed under your manipulation. You're a first-rate hand at gathering grapes from thorns, and figs from thistles. Why, even out of that Caliban, old Woods, you used to extract a gleam of human intelligence."