literature. . . . They value it, too, in after life. Ah, sir,
they've a lot of good in 'em! There's many worse characters than my
boys walking the world."

Mild Mr. Harris removed his glasses. "Are you talking like that from
force of habit?" he asked. "If so, I shall not be so much annoyed."

The Schoolmaster was fairly taken aback. He stared for a moment and
shifted his helm, so to speak, with a grin of intelligence and a
short laugh.

"Not quite so bad as that, sir," he remonstrated. "It's--it's--well,
you may call it the _atmosphere_. On Speech-day the ship fairly
reeks of it."

"And, like the pork, eh! it's just a little bit 'off'?" suggested the
visitor, returning his smile. "By the way, I want to ask you a
question or two about a boy. His name is Link--Something-or-other."

"Link Andrew?" The Schoolmaster gave him a quick look. "You don't
tell me he's in trouble again? Not been annoying you, sir, I hope?"

"On the contrary, I've taken a fancy to the lad; and, by the way
again, Link can't be his real name?"

"Short for Abraham Lincoln, as baptised," explained the Schoolmaster.
"At least, that's one theory. According to another it's short for
'Missing Link.' Not that the boy's bad-looking; but did you happen
to notice the length of his arms--like a gorilla's?"