We subsequently returned to the "playground," Tom saying that we could remain there if we liked until the tea-bell rang, as it was a half-holiday, and there were no more lessons for the day.
The other boys had mostly gone in by this time, disappearing in batches of twos and threes, tired of being out in the bare yard, and having exhausted all attempts at amusing themselves.

We remained here over an hour longer, walking up and down, exchanging confidences and forming the most wonderful plans of what we would do together bye-and-bye, not only while at school, but when we grew up and went into the world.

I, of course, told him all about my cruel bringing-up under Aunt Matilda's auspices, and he imparted the information that he was almost an orphan like myself; his father, who was a clergyman, having died early and left his widowed mother with a large number of children to support on a scanty income; whence the fact of his being at such a poor second-rate school as Dr Hellyer's, about which Tom then proceeded to unfold the most wonderful revelations.
The master, he said, in spite of his generally having thirty boys at least, from whom he managed to get an income of six hundred a year or so, was always in hard straits, and at his wit's end for money; although, apparently, he could not have any great expenditure, the rent of the house or houses occupied by the school being cheap, his cost for the aid of masters not by any means excessive, and the boys' keep not too extravagant, judging by the meals they had.

Dr Hellyer was "an ignorant, uncultivated brute," Tom averred, and his degree of "Doctor" was only derived from the fact of his having paid ten dollars to an American university to air this specious prefix to his scholastic name! The whole school, my new friend told me, was a sham, for, instead of there being some dozen of masters, as stated in the prospectus sent to Uncle George, there were only two besides "The Doctor"-- Mr Smallpage, the mathematical master, called by the boys "Smiley," on the _lucus a non lucendo_ principle, I suppose, because his face ever bore an expression of gravity; and Monsieur Achile Phelan, professor of foreign languages and dancing, christened by Tom Larkyns "The Cobbler," on account of his teaching a certain number of extra-paying pupils how to "heel and toe." Whatever was the reason for "The Doctor's" hardupishness, however, the fact was undeniable; and Tom said that for weeks at a time the establishment would be in a state of siege, from tradespeople coming after their "little accounts," which the master put off settling as long as he could.

The old woman who had opened the door to me, my chum stated, was popularly believed to be the principal's maternal relative, as she kept a watchful eye upon the portal, besides presiding over the interior economy of the school.