He had finally been warned that upon his next outburst punishment would fall.
It was Friday afternoon, the drowsy hour just before recess, while the master was explaining to the listless Euclid class the mysteries of the forty-seventh proposition, that suddenly a snort of unusual violence burst upon the school.

Immediately every eye was upon the master, for all had heard and had noted his threat to Jimmie.
"James, was that you, sir ?" There was no answer, except such as could be gathered from Jimmie's very red and very shamed face.
"James, stand up!" Jimmie wriggled to his feet, and stood a heap of various angles.
"Now, James, you remember what I promised you?
Come here, sir!" Jimmie came slowly to the front, growing paler at each step, and stood with a dazed look on his face, before the master.

He had never been thrashed in all his life.

At home the big brothers might cuff him good-naturedly, or his mother thump him on the head with her thimble, but a serious whipping was to him an unknown horror.
The master drew forth his heavy black strap with impressive deliberation and ominous silence.

The preparations for punishment were so elaborate and imposing that the big boys guessed that the punishment itself would not amount to much.