At this we all laughed, as children will, and Mr.Glennie did not check us, but went back and sat very quiet at his desk; and soon I was sorry I had laughed, for he looked sad, with his face sanded and a great red patch on one side, and beside that the fin had scratched him and made a blood-drop trickle down his cheek.

A few minutes later the thin voice of the almshouse clock said twelve, and away walked Mr.Glennie without his usual 'Good day, children', and there was the sole left lying on the dusty floor in front of his desk.
It seemed a shame so fine a fish should be wasted, so I picked it up and slipped it in my desk, sending Fred Burt to get his mother's gridiron that we might grill it on the schoolroom fire.

While he was gone I went out to the court to play, and had not been there five minutes when back comes Maskew through our playground without Grace, and goes into the schoolroom.

But in the screen at the end of the room was a chink, against which we used to hold our fingers on bright days for the sun to shine through, and show the blood pink; so up I slipped and fixed my eye to the hole, wanting to know what he was at.

He had his basket with him, and I soon saw he had come back for the sole, not having the heart to leave so good a bit of fish.