How I came to be sent to Stonebridge House. “It was perfectly plain, Hudson, the boy could not be allowed to remain any longer a disgrace to the neighbourhood,” said my uncle. “But, sir,” began my poor old nurse. “That will do, Hudson,” said my uncle, decisively; “the matter is settled—Frederick is going to Stonebridge House on Monday.” And my uncle stood up, and taking a coat-tail... more...

How our heroes enter upon more than one career. On a raw, damp morning in early spring, a rather forlorn group of three youngsters might have been seen on the doorstep of Mountjoy Preparatory School, casting nervous glances up and down the drive, and looking anything but a picture of the life and spirits they really represented. That they were bound on an important journey was very evident. They were... more...

In Memoriam. By the death of Talbot B. Reed the boys of the English-speaking world have lost one of their best friends. For fourteen years he has contributed to their pleasure, and in the little library of boys’ books which left his pen he has done as much as any writer of our day to raise the standard of boys’ literature. His books are alike removed from the old-fashioned and familiar class of... more...

Green and Blue. First-night at Fellsgarth was always a festive occasion. The holidays were over, and school had not yet begun. All day long, from remote quarters, fellows had been converging on the dear old place; and here they were at last, shoulder to shoulder, delighted to find themselves back in the old haunts. The glorious memories of the summer holidays were common property. So was not a little... more...

The School cuts me. I hardly know yet what it was all about, and at the time I had not an idea. I don’t think I was more of a fool than most fellows of my age at Draven’s, and I rather hope I wasn’t an out-and-out cad. But when it all happened, I had my doubts on both points, and could explain the affair in no other way than by supposing I must be like the lunatic in the asylum, who, when asked... more...