It was an unpleasant one, but on it depended, I felt, my future welfare at Low Heath.
I seized the nearest, who happened to be Master Trimble, and pulling him gently but firmly by the nose, demanded if girls generally treated him that way?
He kicked vigorously, and ordered me to release the imprisoned member.

I declined to do so until I had kicked back, and finally deposited him on the floor, amidst the laughter of his perfidious comrades, who told him it served him right, and that "Sarah" was evidently one too many for him.
This little protest stood me in good stead.

It put an end to all direct aspersions on my sex, although it was a long while before I was destined to hear the last of delicate insinuations on the topic.

And it advanced me very considerably in favour with the four whose noses I had not been fortunate enough to engage.
"Look here; stop fooling, you chaps," said one of them, when in due time Master Trimble was permitted to regain his feet.

"This new kid had better make up our sixth man here.