It was a warm morning, and the visitors' seat was vacant.
But there was at last a great nudging of elbows, and whispers of "Look out now!" "We're in a scrape!" "No chance for fun to-day!" And only Tip's eyes looked glad when Holbrook halted before their class, with "Good morning, boys." Then, "Good morning Edward; I am glad to see you here to-day;" and the minister actually held out his hand to Tip.

Mr.Holbrook never called him Tip; he had asked him one morning what his real name was, and since then had spoken it, "Edward," in clear, plain tones.
It was a restless, wearying class.

It required all Mr.Holbrook's wits and wisdom to keep them in any sort of order, to gain any part of their attention.

Yet it was not as bad as usual; partly because the minister knew how, if anybody did, to teach just such boys, and partly because Tip, hitherto the spirit of all the mischief there, never took his eyes from the teacher's face.

Mr.Holbrook watched his close attention, and took courage.