"He's got a pain here," pointing to his left eye.

The bigger boys and some of the visitors who had gathered round shouted with laughter.
"Oh, pshaw, Aleck!" said the master, encouragingly, "that's all right.
As long as the pain is as high up as your eye you'll recover.

I tell you what, put your pie down on the desk here, Jimmie will take care of it, and run down to the gate and tell Don I want him." Aleck, with great care and considerable difficulty, extracted from his pocket a segment of black currant pie, hopelessly battered, but still intact.

He regarded it fondly for a moment or two, and then, with a very dubious look at Jimmie, ran away on his errand for the master.
It took him some little time to find Don, and meanwhile the master's attention was drawn away by his duty to the visitors.

The pie left to Jimmie's care had an unfortunately tempting fringe of loose pieces about it that marred its symmetry.