a mild sort of boy, in spite of his gruff voice. "I'm afraid it wouldn't do."

"Not do!" echoed daring Jenniker. "Just hear him!" he added, turning to the rest. "He's afraid it wouldn't do to run away! If you want to do a thing, and other folks say you shan't, the best way is, to cut the matter short by doing it."

Gruff considered. Apparently he did not see his way clear. "I might not get safe off," debated he. "The squire might catch me up and bring me back, and have me before him on the bench, as a vagabond. You don't know what he is when he's put up. He'd no more care for putting one of us in prison, than he cares for committing the poachers. Besides, where could I run to? I should have neither money nor outfit; and there'd be no fun in going to sea without your uniform."

"If you

"Have it your own way," said Jenniker. won't bother the squire into sending you, and won't start on your own account, you must humdrum on at Whittermead for life, feeding your own innocent sheep, and cultivating your crops of mild turnips. They'll put you on the bench, perhaps, when you are of age, and you can sit there and commit poachers on your

own account."

Gruff Jones did not like the bantering tone. "What would you advise me to do, Jenniker?" he asked.

"You needn't come to me for advice. I wash my hands of milksops," he added, making a motion of rubbing one hand over the other. Gruff looked irresolute.

"Shall you run away, Vane, if they don't let you go?" he asked.

D

I Harry Vane.

I expect they will let

ou they don't. I said?" persisted Gruf.

ition I must put up with it a 1 hest cut. I should Ne gone com> a' that"

*** Fun away.

"Better run away that you like," spoke ur donniger

he same from doing what

guess, finding I was to be put out of the fun, so I thought I'd spoil theirs a bit. The folks were to take their own provisions. One lot took meat; another lot took poultry; another, cheese and bread-and-butter; another, wine; another, knives and forks, and dishes and spoons, and tea-kettles and glasses, and all that sort of rattletraps. It fell to our lot at home to find pastry and custards. All yesterday afternoon, as soon as the show was over, my step-aunt, and Mildred, and the cook were melting themselves over the kitchen fire, boiling the custards, and baking the tarts. Mrs Jenniker did not make big pies; about a couple of hundred of little tarts; just what we could take in at a mouthful, you know. I heard her say to Mildred they'd be more convenient to carry than pies in dishes. All covered they were; no jam to be seen perhaps she thought it would run out on the road

"My! shouldn't I like to have been before that collation!" struck in Gruff Jones, while the whole of the boys stood with watering mouths.

"Don't interrupt," said Jenniker, winking his eyes. ""Twas all got ready by night: custards corked up in wide-mouthed bottles, and put in a hamper; tarts packed in another hamper. And then it was I found I was not to get any, or any fun, either. So down to the cellar I crept, when the house was in bed, and got at the dainties."

"Did you finish the lot, Jenniker?" asked the boys, in a despairing state of envy that the luck had not

been theirs.

"I didn't eat them; I spoiled them," said Jenniker, winking again a very ugly accomplishment, but Jen

niker had some ugly ones. I uncorked the custard bottles, and poured in a little shalot vinegar; and you may guess what the flavour was then, besides turning the stuff to curd. Then I took the tops off the tarts. all neat and clean, with my penknife, and devoured the contents, and fastened on the tops again with white of egg; leaving them just the same, to look at, as they were before."

"Jove! what a treat! Was it all jam?"

"Jam, and other stuff. Apple, and lemon, and rhubarb, and green goosegogs-oh, about fifty sorts,” answered Jenniker. I demolished it all. I was down there three hours, stuffing, and accomplishing the job neatly. When I came up, nobody could have told that so much as a finger had been laid upon the hampers. Hadn't I the stomach-ache, though, towards the morning! They'll be returning home, that picnic lot, in about an hour's time."

The boys sat in a trance of delight, devouring the tale as eagerly as Mr Jenniker had devoured the insides of the tarts. And poor Edmund Allair laughed and crowed incessantly, without understanding what there was to laugh at.

CHAPTER V.

PUNISHMENT.

ONE black sheep will spoil a flock.

One black boy

speaking with regard to the sheep and the boy metaphorically-will spoil a whole school.

Harry Vane infected his companions with a love for the sea; but he was not the black sheep. That boy was Jenniker, the eldest of them all.

Nothing overwhelmingly bad, either, was there in Jenniker. He possessed no very evil habits; he did not thieve or kill. But Jenniker was daringly selfwilled; somewhat loose in principle; inclined to disobedience and rebellion; and Jenniker's shortcomings in these respects worked contagion in the school.

In some respects poor Jenniker was to be pitied. He had not the advantage, the safeguard, of a happy home. Left an orphan at an early age, he had been brought up by an uncle and aunt. His aunt was fond of him and treated him well; his uncle also treated him well during her life. But she died; and the time came when his uncle took another wife, and the second Mrs Jenniker set her face against the boy. There had been war to the knife ever since. And it is not improbable that Jenniker would have made short work of it and run away long ago, but for the earnest pleadings of his sweet cousin Mildred.

He went home, after boasting of his exploits, as to