86 THE LIFE OF PETER BUFF. 



Still there I was, as an Irishman would say, always " to the fore," 

 going through the same combats, and eventually slaying the count 

 himself, chasing him several times round the office, and giving him 

 divers deadly thrusts with a long ruler. One day the count and I 

 were in the most fearful part of a dreadful combat ; I had chased 

 him three times round the office, and having got him on his knees , 

 I prepared to give him the finishing stroke, and rushing forward, 

 crying " Die, base tyrant !" I tripped over him and fell headlong 

 into the pit of the governor's stomach (who was just entering the 

 office), flooring him completely; and there we all lay, fomiing quite 

 a proper conclusion (three dead men) to a melodrama. " Holloa ! 

 Peter! what are you after ?" shouted the governor. "Slaying the 

 tyrant, Ticklerib," said I. " Which is him ?" said he, on gaining 

 his perpendicular." " This is the base tyrant," said I, bringing for- 

 ward the other boy. " Ha, ha, ha!" laughed the governor; " I 

 dare say it served him right. And now, boys, to work." 



On another occasion, the count and I were playing a game at 

 " hide and seek," when I got into a large book-case ; he was on the 

 point of starting on his look-out expedition, when in walked the 

 governor. I was in what the Yankees call a " fix ;" I dare not come 

 out, and I did not like to stay in. Immediately on Mr. Bluenose's 

 entering, the count was busily employed in mending a pen, which, 

 by some fatality, always wanted mending on the governor coming 

 suddenly into the office. I had not been long boxed up before the 

 count was sent out on business, and Mr. Bluenose commenced writ- 

 ing a letter. I lay as still as possible, but something — perhaps the 

 dust — got up my nose, and I was suddenly attacked with a violent 

 fit of sneezing. The eflfect was electric ! Up jumped the governor 

 with an emphatic ** What the devil's that ?" I could hear him pok- 

 ing about the office, and at last settle down to write again. I lay 

 quite still for some time after this ; but feeling very uncomfortable, 

 and wishing to beguile time by peeping through the key-hole, I 

 screwed myself up into some very disagreeable positions, until I 

 slipped, and, falling against the door, rolled out with a lot of old 

 books. "Holloa!" shouted old Bluenose; "thieves! robbery! 

 mmder ! Oh, oh, Peter ! why is that you ? What do you mean. 



