"Oh, Master Campbell, I was looking for you. You're changed into No. 7 dormitory. I put your box by your bed, so you'll know where you're to sleep. How are you now, dear," she added, kindly, "have you heard from your papa? when's he coming home? You'll try and be a good boy, won't you? You must think how it would vex your dear ma; and you won't give Doctor Palmer cause to cane you again, I know," and Miss Parker smoothed her apron, and took breath after her long-winded oration. There it was at last. Harry feared it would come sooner or later, this allusion to the crib. He burst out indignantly,-- "Mamma believed me, Miss Parker, if nobody else did. She knew I didn't crib; but I won't bear it, I won't," he cried passionately, as he ran up-stairs to his new destination. CHAPTER XII. BULLYING. "Gas out."--The new boy's turn--"To err is human"--Resistance--Persecution--I'll run away. "Well, there now," ejaculated Miss Parker, "I never! That boy's not a bit brought down by his mother's death. He sticks to it, just as indignant as ever." But Harry was out of hearing, and was sitting on his bed, staring into his box which he had just opened. Presently, there was a sound of footsteps scurrying up-stairs and along the passages, and the door of No. 7 dormitory burst open, and its sixteen boys rushed in one after another, huddling together like a flock of sheep. The first thing that met their eyes was Harry, who didn't quite know whether they would speak to him or not. So he waited till one or two greeted him with a shake of the hand, and a "how-de-do, Campbell?" two or three more with a cold "hallo, Campbell!" and the rest with only a stare. Amongst the latter were Egerton and Warburton. In about five minutes a step was heard on the landing-place below. "Gas out," cried Egerton, "there's Lea coming." "Lea" was a house-master. No one moved to obey the order. "Now, then," cried Warburton, "who's new boy?" Harry, where he knelt at his bedside saying his prayers, knew he was meant; but he had not jumped up from his knees to obey the order, when a slipper came hard at him. He, however, first put out the gas, and was on his knees again, finishing his prayers, when Mr Lea entered. All being quiet, and the light out, he retired. As soon as his last step was heard below, one or two voices exclaimed-- "I say, Jackson, go on with your story, where you left off last night." "Oh, no," answered Jackson, the boy appealed to, "I ain't new boy now. I've done my turn." The majority of the boys did not quite like to tell Harry plainly it was his turn to provide the usual nightly amusement of a story, for they felt some sort of compunction towards him, because of his mother's death, even though they had not spoken to him; but they did not hesitate to talk pointedly about its being the new boy's turn; that Jackson had done his turn; _he_ was the last new boy, and so on.