After retreat the boys usually remained downstairs until the supper-bell[21] was rung; and to-night, on account of the storm, nearly every one was in the drill-hall. Some were gathered in groups, some promenaded up and down the hall, some ran about playing jokes on their companions.

Among these last was a boy of twelve or fourteen, whom capricious nature had rendered so extravagantly obese that he resembled a great, overgrown baby. He had a round, good-natured face, a complexion as fair and rosy as a girl’s, and a voice that would have done credit to a miss of fifteen. When he walked or ran, the flesh on his body shook and tumbled about like jelly.

Those upon whom his pranks were being played turned on him at last, a dozen of them, and backing him up against the wall, amused themselves by running full tilt against him and rebounding from his elastic body.

Finally they dragged him to a corner of the drill-hall, where a large box stood on end, and hoisting him to the top of it with much roughness, they bent before him in mock reverence, hailing him as “His Fatness[22] the King of Hogland.” He beamed down upon them good-naturedly for a moment, and then replied, in his peculiar, falsetto voice,—

“I thank you kindly, my dear little pigs. You shall have an extra allowance of pig-feed to-night to pay you for these marks of high esteem.”

The next moment his round face took on a look of feigned horror; he rolled awkwardly down from his perch, and fled with ludicrous haste across the hall, followed by an increased crowd of tormentors.