He was always getting it on the hands, far oftener than Telson, who was Riddell's fag, and never had to go and steer boats up the river.

In fact, Riddell, he knew, looked over Telson's lessons for him--catch Bloomfield doing as much for Parson! All these considerations tended greatly to impair the temper of Master Parson this beautiful morning.

But the worst grievance of all was that he had to get up that moment and call Bloomfield, or else he'd get a licking.

That would be worse any day than getting it on the hands from the doctor.
So he kicked off the clothes surlily, and put one foot out of bed.

But the other was a long time following.