"It is not fair, Mr. Nichols, to flog Willard alone. It was my fault, sir. I beckoned to Brayton and whispered first. That is what started it. You should whip me, too, sir." The master, as we have said, was stern and uncompromising, but his nature was not entirely devoid of feeling, and as he heard the brave admission, his eye lighted up with sudden softness. "Go back to your seats, boys," said he, "I will not flog either of you to-day. Lads that are brave enough to face the punishment of one offence as you have done, can, I hope, be trusted not to soon commit another." The incident was one that raised the tone of the whole school, and it gave rise to a warm feeling of admiration in Willard Glazier's breast for Henry Abbott which did Willard good, and made the two youths firm friends. Thus the years sped on--dotted with little incidents that seem too trivial to relate, and yet each one of which had _some_ effect upon the future life and character of young Willard. He had become a pretty wild boy by this time, and the cognomen of the "little deacon" was dropped without ceremony. Although he was marked high for scholarly attainment, he received many a bad mark for violating the rules of school. This state of affairs existed until the boy had reached the age of eleven years, when he was brought into contact with two diametrically opposite influences, one of which was calculated to _make_ and the other to mar his future character and fortunes. CHAPTER V. ECCENTRICITIES OF HENRY GLAZIER. Henry Glazier.--A singular character.--"Kaw-shaw-gan-ce" and "Quaw-taw-pee-ah."--Tom Lolar and Henry Glazier.--Attractive show-bills.--Billy Muldoon and his trombone.--Behind the scenes.--"Sound your G!"--The mysterious musician.--What happened to Billy.--"May the divil fly away wid ye!" At this time there resided in the paternal homestead a younger brother of Ward Glazier named Henry, who was Willard's senior by about eleven years, and, physically speaking, was a splendid specimen of masculine development. Like his brothers Ward and George, he stood six feet in his stockings, and literally looked down on his fellows. He had conceived a great liking for his nephew Willard, and on many a hunting excursion in the Great North Woods, the boy was his only companion. This affection, however, was not unmingled with some contempt for the lad's diminutive stature. Upon one occasion, during a visit to West Boylston, he made it his business to search out the relatives of Willard's mother, in order to ascertain what sort of stock she came from. On returning home, this son of Anak exclaimed, with a dejected air: "Mother, I'll be hanged if I ain't discouraged! Our Willard will always be a little runt. His mother's folks ain't bigger'n a pinch of snuff!" How far the prediction has been verified any one who has seen the compact, sinewy form of the young soldier will understand.