I would-- "Batchelor, repeat the last words I read," broke in Miss Henniker.
She thought she had me, but no! Far away as my thoughts had been, my ears had mechanically retained those last melodious strains, and I answered, promptly, "Latitudinarianism of an unintelligent emotionalism!" One to me! And I returned to my brown study triumphant, and pretty secure against further molestation.
I made up my mind, come what would, I would speak to the new boy and let him see _I_ was not against him.
Some one will smile, of course, and say, sarcastically, "What a treat for the new boy!" But if he only knew with what fear and trembling I made that resolution, he would acquit Fred Batchelor of any very great self-importance in the matter.
Bedtime came at last, and, thankful to have the day over, we crawled away to our roosts.

The new boy's bed, as I have said, was next mine, and I conceived the determination, if I could only keep awake, of speaking to him after every one was asleep.
It was hard work that keeping awake; but I managed it.

Gradually, one after another dropped off, and the padding footsteps overhead and the voices below died away till nothing was heard but the angry tick of the clock outside and the regular breathing of the sleepers on every hand.
Then I softly slid out of bed and crawled on my hands and knees to Smith's bed.

It was an anxious moment for me.

He might be asleep, and wake up in a fright to find some one near him; or he might be awake and resent my intrusion.