Observe me with the ruler!--I am on tiptoe; I am taking aim; there is wrath in every sinew of my arrum! My arrum descends on the very centre of Tootle's bald pate--" "Mr.O'Gree!" The tableau was most effective.

Unnoticed by either the Irishman or Waymark, the door had opened behind them, and there had appeared a little red-faced woman, in slatternly dress.

It was Mrs.Tootle.

She had overheard almost the whole of O'Gree's vivid comment upon his graphic illustration, in silence, until at length she could hold her peace no longer, and gave utterance to the teacher's name in a voice which trembled with rage and mortification.
"Mr.O'Gree! Are you aware of my presence, sir ?" The chalk dropped from O'Gree's fingers, but otherwise his attitude remained unaltered; struck motionless with horror, he stood pointing to the drawing on the board, his face pale, his eyes fascinated by those of Mrs.Tootle.The latter went on in a high note.
"Well, sir, as soon as you have had enough of your insulting buffoonery, perhaps you will have the goodness to attend to me, and to your duty! What do you mean by allowing the dormitories to get into this state of uproar?
There's been a pillow-fight going on for the last half-hour, and you pay no sort of attention; the very house is shaking ?" "I protest I had not heard a sound, ma'am, or I should have--" "Perhaps you hear nothing now, sir,--and the doctor suffering from one of his very worst headaches, utterly unable to rest even if the house were perfectly quiet!" O'Gree darted to the door, past Mrs.Tootle, and was lost to sight.
There was indeed a desperate uproar in the higher regions of the house.
In a moment the noise increased considerably.

O'Gree had rushed up without a light, and was battling desperately in the darkness with a score of pillow-fighters, roaring out threats the while at the top of his voice.