CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
BOSHER, HIS DIARY.
Probably no two boys in all Willoughby were more excited over the result of the famous boat-race than Parson and his dear friend Telson.

And it is hardly necessary to state that this agitation arose from totally conflicting reasons.
Parson's indignation found solace in the most sweeping and vehement invectives his vocabulary could afford against the unknown author of the dastardly outrage upon his rudder-line.

By an easy effort of imagination he included the whole schoolhouse, root and branch, in his anathemas, and by a very trifling additional effort he discovered that the objects of his censure were guilty, every one of them, not only of this particular crime, but of every crime in the Newgate Calendar, from picking pockets to murder.

He fully agreed with the decision of his chiefs to have nothing more to do with such a graceless crew till the injury was atoned for; and meanwhile he felt himself at perfect liberty--nay, it was his painful duty--to insult, abuse, and maltreat, as occasion offered, every one unlucky enough to wear the schoolhouse ribbon on his cap.
This being the case, it may be imagined his friend Telson (who, by the way, had barely recovered from the shock of Brown's party) found himself in a very delicate position.

For in the whole of his code of honour two points were paramount with him.