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which he insisted on displaying on the tea-table, to Miss Pepper’s horror, and that apparently he had arrived with some other boy’s trunk instead of his own, things passed off fairly peacefully the first day.

      He and Loony explored everywhere thoroughly by themselves. Snubby hated being “shown round.” He liked to size up things for himself and go his own way. He was a most intelligent and sharp-witted boy, very clever at hiding his brains under a constant stream of tricks, jokes and general idiocies. He was adored by all the boys in his form, and was their natural leader—but the despair of all the masters who seemed to vie with one another in making biting remarks about his work and character in his reports.

      His jokes and tricks were endless. All his pocket money was spent either on ice-creams, chocolate—or the newest trick. It was Snubby who tried out all the trick-pencils on the various masters—the pencil whose point wobbled because it was made of rubber—the one whose point disappeared inside the pencil as soon as the unsuspecting master tried to write with it—the pencil that could be nailed to the floor and couldn’t be picked up.

      It was Snubby who experimented with stink-pills which, when thrown on the fire, at once gave out a smell like bad fish, and Snubby who climbed to the top of the school tower without falling. Everything was always Snubby—even when it really wasn’t! But Snubby didn’t mind. He accepted his punishments, rightful ones or wrongful, with pluck and resignation, and always owned up when tackled.

      “A bad boy with a lot of good in him,” said the headmaster. “It’s a pity he has no parents. If he had he would behave better because he wouldn’t like to let them down. He’ll turn out all right—but in the meantime he’s a pest.”

      Snubby was pleased with Rockingdown Cottage and the garden and grounds of the old mansion. He could make plenty of good hidey-holes in the grounds for Loony and himself. They could play pirates, wrecked sailors, and Red Indians to their hearts’ content under the thick bushes, and up in the tall trees—because Loony didn’t at all mind being dragged up trees by the scruff of his neck. In fact, he didn’t mind where he went as long as he was with his beloved master. He had even been known to crouch in a smelly dustbin with Snubby for an hour whilst Snubby waited to play a trick on the unsuspecting butcher’s boy.

      Snubby made up his mind to explore the old mansion. It would be locked and bolted and barred, but he’d get in somewhere all right. If Di and Roger would come, that would be fun—if not, he’d go by himself. He hoped Roger would come, though. He would like to be in Roger’s good books—Roger was fine. Diana was a nuisance—but then, in Snubby’s opinion all girls were a nuisance. Always in the way.

      It was a terrible shock to Snubby to hear that he was to have coaching those holidays. Diana broke the news to him that night.

      “You know you’re to have lessons these hols, don’t you, Snubby?” she said. “Mr. Young’s coming to coach you.”

      Snubby stared at her in horror. “I don’t believe you,” he said at last. “Nobody could do that to me—make me learn things in the summer hols! I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

      “Well, you’ll have to believe it,” said Diana. “Daddy’s arranged it. Roger is to have coaching in Latin and maths, I’m to be coached in French and English.”

      “What am I to be coached in?” said Snubby gloomily.

      “Oh, I should think you want coaching in everything,” said Diana. “I don’t suppose you know your tables properly yet, do you, Snubby? And can you spell yet?”

      “All right. I’ll pay you out for that,” said Snubby. “What about a worm or two under your pillow?”

      “If you start doing that kind of babyish thing again I’ll sit on you and bounce up and down till you cry for mercy,” said Diana. “I’m much bigger than you are, baby-boy!”

      This was quite true. Snubby was not big for his age and hadn’t really begun to grow yet. Diana was a sturdy girl, and quite able to do what she threatened.

      Loony appeared and rolled himself over and over on the floor. Snubby tickled him with his foot. The spaniel leapt up and fetched something in from the hall. Diana gave a shriek.

      “Oh—he’s got my hairbrush. Snubby, get it from him. Quick!”

      “Why? You never use it, do you?” said Snubby, neatly getting back at his cousin for her jibes of a minute or two ago. “What good is it to you? You might as well let Loony play with it.”

      The brush was rescued and Loony got a few spanks with it from Diana. He retired under the table, and looked at her mournfully with big brown eyes.

      “Now you’ve hurt his feelings,” said Snubby.

      “I’d like to hurt a lot more of him than that,” said Diana. “Now I shall have to wash this chewed-up brush. Blow Loony!”

      “Blow everything!” said Snubby dismally. “Fancy—coaching with Mr. Young. I can’t think of anything worse!”

      CHANGED PLANS

      But after all Mr. Young didn’t come to coach the three children. Two days later, when Roger, Diana and Snubby had put out their school books neatly on the study table, and had gloomily sharpened their pencils and found their pens, the telephone bell rang shrilly.

      “I’ll answer it, Miss Pepper, I’ll answer it!” yelled Snubby, who adored answering the phone and pretending that he was one of the grown-ups in the house. He rushed to answer.

      The others listened, bored. Probably it was the butcher saying he couldn’t send the meat, and one of them would have to fetch it.

      “Yes. This is Rockingdown Cottage,” they heard Snubby say. “Oh—who? Oh, Mrs. Young. Oh, yes, certainly. Yes, I can give any message you like. Certainly, certainly. Dear dear, how very very sad. I’m so sorry to hear that. Well, well, to think how suddenly these things happen! And is he getting on all right? That’s wonderful, isn’t it? You have my deep sympathy, Mrs. Young—such a terrible time for you. Yes, yes, I’ll give your message. Certainly. Good-bye.”

      By this time both Diana and Roger were out in the hall, amazed at Snubby’s telephoning.

      “What is it? What are you saying? Who on earth are you pretending to be, Snubby?” demanded Diana.

      “Nobody. I’m just being polite and helpful,” said Snubby, beaming. “I say—Mr. Young’s gone and got appendicitis and he’s NOT COMING! What do you think of that?”

      The others stared at him. “Gosh—we couldn’t think what you were doing, talking in that idiotic way over the phone!” said Diana.

      “It wasn’t idiotic. It was only like grown-ups talk,” said Snubby. “I can tell you I felt very sorry for poor Mr. Young—you know, having to go to hospital and everything.”

      “You didn’t,” said Roger. “You know you’re always saying appendicitis is nothing, and telling us how you had it and enjoyed it. But I say—does this mean no coaching then? Of course, it’s upsetting for Mrs. Young—but it does solve a problem for us. We can enjoy ourselves now.”

      Loony was barking round their ankles, sensing their excitement. Miss Pepper came down the stairs.

      “What’s all the excitement about? Who was that on the telephone? I hope it wasn’t the butcher again.”

      “No. It was Mrs. Young,” said Snubby. “Mr. Young is in hospital with appendicitis, Miss Pepper. He’s not coming here to coach us.”

      “Dear, dear! I am sorry for poor Mrs. Young,” said Miss Pepper in exactly the same voice that Snubby had used over the telephone. “Well—that does put us into a difficulty.”

      “Does it?” said Diana, astonished. “It seems to us that we’ve got out of one.”

      “Oh,

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