Hegotquiteangrysometimes，astheysattogetherofanightintheirstudy，atthisprovokinghabitofagreement，andwasonthepointofbreakingoutadozentimeswithalectureupontheproprietyofafellowhavingawillofhisownandspeakingout，butmanagedtorestrainhimselfbythethoughtthathemightonlyfrightenArthur，andtheremembranceofthelessonhehadlearntfromhimonhisfirstnightatNumber4。ThenhewouldresolvetositstillandnotsayawordtillArthurbegan；buthewasalwaysbeatatthatgame，andhadpresentlytobegintalkingindespair，fearinglestArthurmightthinkhewasvexedatsomethingifhedidn’t，anddog-tiredofsittingtongue-tied。
　　Itwashardwork。ButTomhadtakenitup，andmeanttosticktoit，andgothroughwithitsoastosatisfyhimself；inwhichresolutionhewasmuchassistedbythechafingofEastandhisotheroldfriends，whobegantocallhim“dry-nurse，“andotherwisetobreaktheirsmallwitonhim。Butwhentheytookotherground，astheydideverynowandthen，Tomwassorelypuzzled。
　　“Tellyouwhat，Tommy，“Eastwouldsay；“you’llspoilyoungHopefulwithtoomuchcoddling。Whycan’tyoulethimgoaboutbyhimselfandfindhisownlevel？He’llneverbeworthabuttonifyougoonkeepinghimunderyourskirts。“
　　“Well，butheain’tfittofighthisownwayyet；I’mtryingtogethimtoiteveryday，buthe’sveryodd。Poorlittlebeggar！
　　Ican’tmakehimoutabit。Heain’tabitlikeanythingI’veeverseenorheardof——heseemsallovernerves；anythingyousayseemstohurthimlikeacutorablow。“
　　“Thatsortofboy’snousehere，“saidEast；“he’llonlyspoil。
　　NowI’lltellyouwhattodo，Tommy。Goandgetanicelargeband-boxmade，andputhiminwithplentyofcotton-woolandapap-bottle，labelled’Withcare——thissideup，’andsendhimbacktomamma。“
　　“IthinkIshallmakeahandofhimthough，“saidTom，smiling，“saywhatyouwill。There’ssomethingabouthim，everynowandthen，whichshowsmehe’sgotplucksomewhereinhim。That’stheonlythingafterallthat’llwash，ain’tit，oldScud？Buthowtogetatitandbringitout？“
　　Tomtookonehandoutofhisbreeches-pocketandstuckitinhisbackhairforascratch，givinghishatatiltoverhisnose，hisonemethodofinvokingwisdom。Hestaredatthegroundwithaludicrouslypuzzledlook，andpresentlylookedupandmetEast’seyes。Thatyounggentlemanslappedhimontheback，andthenputhisarmroundhisshoulder，astheystrolledthroughthequadrangletogether。“Tom，“saidhe，“blestifyouain’tthebestoldfelloweverwas。Idoliketoseeyougointoathing。Hangit，IwishIcouldtakethingsasyoudo；butI
　　nevercangethigherthanajoke。Everything’sajoke。IfI
　　wasgoingtobefloggednextminute，Ishouldbeinabluefunk，butIcouldn’thelplaughingatitforthelifeofme。“
　　“BrownandEast，yougoandfagforJonesonthegreatfivescourt。“
　　“Hullo，though，that’spastajoke，“brokeoutEast，springingattheyounggentlemanwhoaddressedthem，andcatchinghimbythecollar——“Here，Tommy，catchholdofhimt’othersidebeforehecanholla。“
　　Theyouthwasseized，anddragged，struggling，outofthequadrangleintotheSchool-househall。Hewasoneofthemiserablelittleprettywhite-handed，curly-headedboys，pettedandpamperedbysomeofthebigfellows，whowrotetheirversesforthem，taughtthemtodrinkandusebadlanguage，anddidalltheycouldtospoilthemforeverything*inthisworldandthenext。Oneoftheavocationsinwhichtheseyounggentlementookparticulardelightwasingoingaboutandgettingfagsfortheirprotectors，whenthoseheroeswereplayinganygame。Theycarriedaboutpencilandpaperwiththem，puttingdownthenamesofalltheboystheysent，alwayssendingfivetimesasmanyaswerewanted，andgettingallthosethrashedwhodidn’tgo。ThepresentyouthbelongedtoahousewhichwasveryjealousoftheSchool-house，andalwayspickedoutSchool-housefagswhenhecouldfindthem。However，thistimehe’dgotthewrongsowbytheear。Hiscaptorsslammedthegreatdoorofthehall，andEastputhisbackagainstit，whileTomgavetheprisonerashakeup，tookawayhislist，andstoodhimuponthefloor，whileheproceededleisurelytoexaminethatdocument。
　　*Akindandwisecritic，anoldRugboean，noteshereinthemargin:“Thesmallfriendsystemwasnotsoutterlybadfrom1841-1847。“Beforethat，too，thereweremanynoblefriendshipsbetweenbigandlittleboys；butIcan’tstrikeoutthepassage。
　　Manyboyswillknowwhyitisleftin。
　　“Letmeout，letmego！“screamedtheboy，inafuriouspassion。“I’llgoandtellJonesthisminute，andhe’llgiveyouboththe——thrashingyoueverhad。“
　　“Prettylittledear，“saidEast，pattingthetopofhishat——
　　“Harkhowheswears，Tom。Nicelybroughtupyoungman，ain’the，Idon’tthink。“
　　“Letmealone，——you，“roaredtheboy，foamingwithrage，andkickingatEast，whoquietlytrippedhimup，anddepositedhimonthefloorinaplaceofsafety。
　　“Gently，youngfellow，“saidhe；“’tain’timprovingforlittlewhippersnapperslikeyoutobeindulginginblasphemy；soyoustopthat，oryou’llgetsomethingyouwon’tlike。“
　　“I’llhaveyoubothlickedwhenIgetout，thatIwill，“
　　rejoinedtheboy，beginningtosnivel。
　　“Twocanplayatthatgame，mindyou，“saidTom，whohadfinishedhisexaminationofthelist。“Nowyoujustlistenhere。We’vejustcomeacrossthefivescourt，andJoneshasfourfagstherealready——twomorethanhewants。Ifhe’dwantedustochange，he’dhavestoppedushimself。Andhere，youlittleblackguard，you’vegotsevennamesdownonyourlistbesidesours，andfiveofthemSchool-house。“Tomwalkeduptohim，andjerkedhimontohislegs；hewasbythistimewhininglikeawhippedpuppy。“Nowjustlistentome。Weain’tgoingtofagforJones。Ifyoutellhimyou’vesentus，we’lleachofusgiveyousuchathrashingasyou’llremember。“AndTomtoreupthelistandthrewthepiecesintothefire。
　　“Andmindyou，too，“saidEast，“don’tletmecatchyouagainsneakingabouttheSchool-house，andpickingupourfags。Youhaven’tgotthesortofhidetotakeasoundlickingkindly。“
　　Andheopenedthedoorandsenttheyounggentlemanflyingintothequadranglewithapartingkick。
　　“Niceboy，Tommy，“saidEast，shovinghishandsinhispockets，andstrollingtothefire。
　　“Worstsortwebreed，“respondedTom，followinghisexample。
　　“Thankgoodness，nobigfellowevertooktopettingme。“
　　“You’dneverhavebeenlikethat，“saidEast。“Ishouldliketohaveputhiminamuseum:Christianyounggentleman，nineteenthcentury，highlyeducated。Stirhimupwithalongpole，Jack，andhearhimswearlikeadrunkensailor。He’dmakearespectablepublicopenitseyes，Ithink。“
　　“Thinkhe’lltellJones？“saidTom。
　　“No，“saidEast。“Don’tcareifhedoes。“
　　“NorI，“saidTom。AndtheywentbacktotalkaboutArthur。
　　TheyounggentlemanhadbrainsenoughnottotellJones，reasoningthatEastandBrown，whowerenotedassomeofthetoughestfagsintheSchool，wouldn’tcarethreestrawsforanylickingJonesmightgivethem，andwouldbelikelytokeeptheirwordsastopassingitonwithinterest。
　　Aftertheaboveconversation，Eastcameagooddealtotheirstudy，andtooknoticeofArthur，andsoonallowedtoTomthathewasathoroughlittlegentleman，andwouldgetoverhisshynessallingoodtime；whichmuchcomfortedourhero。Hefelteveryday，too，thevalueofhavinganobjectinhislife——
　　somethingthatdrewhimoutofhimself；anditbeingthedulltimeoftheyear，andnogamesgoingaboutforwhichhemuchcared，washappierthanhehadeveryetbeenatschool，whichwassayingagreatdeal。
　　ThetimewhichTomallowedhimselfawayfromhischargewasfromlocking-uptillsupper-time。Duringthishourorhourandahalfheusedtotakehisfling，goingroundtothestudiesofallhisacquaintance，sparringorgossipinginthehall，nowjumpingtheoldiron-boundtables，orcarvingabitofhisnameonthem，thenjoininginsomechorusofmerryvoices——infact，blowingoffhissteam，asweshouldnowcallit。
　　Thisprocesswassocongenialtohistemper，andArthurshowedhimselfsopleasedatthearrangement，thatitwasseveralweeksbeforeTomwaseverintheirstudybeforesupper。Oneevening，however，herushedintolookforanoldchisel，orsomecorks，orotherarticleessentialtohispursuitforthetimebeing，andwhilerummagingaboutinthecupboards，lookedupforamoment，andwascaughtatoncebythefigureofpoorlittleArthur。Theboywassittingwithhiselbowsonthetable，andhisheadleaningonhishands，andbeforehimanopenbook，onwhichhistearswerefallingfast。Tomshutthedooratonce，andsatdownonthesofabyArthur，puttinghisarmroundhisneck。
　　“Why，youngun，what’sthematter？“saidhekindly；“youain’tunhappy，areyou？“
　　“Ohno，Brown，“saidthelittleboy，lookingupwiththegreattearsinhiseyes；“youaresokindtome，I’mveryhappy。“
　　“Whydon’tyoucallmeTom？LotsofboysdothatIdon’tlikehalfsomuchasyou。Whatareyoureading，then？Hangit！youmustcomeaboutwithme，andnotmopeyourself。“AndTomcastdownhiseyesonthebook，andsawitwastheBible。Hewassilentforaminute，andthoughttohimself，“LessonNumber2，TomBrown；“andthensaidgently，“I’mverygladtoseethis，Arthur，andashamedthatIdon’treadtheBiblemoremyself。DoyoureaditeverynightbeforesupperwhileI’mout？“
　　“Yes。“
　　“Well，Iwishyou’dwaittillafterwards，andthenwe’dreadtogether。But，Arthur，whydoesitmakeyoucry？“
　　“Oh，itisn’tthatI’munhappy。Butathome，whilemyfatherwasalive，wealwaysreadthelessonsaftertea；andIlovetoreadthemovernow，andtrytorememberwhathesaidaboutthem。