CHAPTER NINE.
A THUNDERSTORM.
It did not add to Jonah's happiness to see the looks of evident disgust with which the first class greeted his reappearance in the schoolroom.
Their pleasant experience yesterday had demoralised them, and they settled down listlessly at Jonah's bidding like voyagers who, after a day in still waters, put out once more to the rough sea.

Teddy especially felt the hardships of the mighty deep.

Jonah's eye transfixed him all day.

If he spoke, if he fidgeted, if he looked about, the hand of the tyrant swooped down upon him.
He spent the greater part of the day standing on the form.

The contents of his pockets (including some priceless marbles) were impounded; he had two columns of dates to commit to memory before he could go home; and, hardest of all, because of a little blot, he was reduced to the ineffable humiliation of writing all his exercises on a slate! It took all the big heart of the little fellow to bear up against this mountain of calamity, and had it not been for an occasional glimpse of Jeffreys' face, turned sympathetically in his direction, his courage might have failed him.
School closed, and still his dates were unlearnt.