cock-house team, as I was. By dint of practising every minute of spare time, I had got the eleventh place for my fielding. And, better still, I had caught two catches in the second innings, one of them a regular gallery affair, and both off the captain's bowling. It was magnificent, but it was not Euripides, and I wished now that it had been. Mellish, our form-master, had an unpleasant habit of coming down with both feet, as it were, on members of his form who failed in the book-papers.     

       We were working, therefore, under forced draught, and it was distinctly annoying to see the wretched Bradshaw lounging in our only armchair with one of Rider Haggard's best, seemingly quite unmoved at the prospect of Euripides examinations. For all he appeared to care, Euripides might never have written a line in his life.     

       Kendal voiced the opinion of the meeting.     

       'Bradshaw, you worm,' he said. 'Aren't you going to do any work?'     

       'Think not. What's the good? Can't get up a whole play of Euripides in two hours.'     

       'Mellish'll give you beans.'     

       'Let him.'     

       'You'll get a jolly bad report.'     

       'Shan't get a report at all. I always intercept it before my guardian can get it. He never says anything.'     

       'Mellish'll probably run you in to the Old Man,' said White, the fourth occupant of the study.     

       Bradshaw turned on us with a wearied air.     

       'Oh, do give us a rest,' he said. 'Here you are just going to do a most important exam., and you sit jawing away as if you were paid for it. Oh, I say, by the way, who's setting the paper tomorrow?'     

       'Mellish, of course,' said White.     

       'No, he isn't,' I said. 'Shows what a lot you know about it. Mellish is setting the Livy paper.'     

       'Then, who's doing this one?' asked Bradshaw.     

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