broken into. Patriotism has no chance beside "brewing."'
'Nor art either. D'you remember our "Evening with Shakespeare"?' The Head's eyes twinkled. 'Or the humorous gentleman with the magic-lantern?'
•••••
'An' who the dooce is this Raymond Martin, M.P.?' demanded Beetle, when he read the notice of the lecture in the corridor. 'Why do the brutes always turn up on a Saturday?'
'Ouh! Reomeo, Reomeo. Wherefore art thou Reomeo?' said M'Turk over his shoulder, quoting the Shakespeare artiste of last term. 'Well, he won't be as bad as her, I hope. Stalky, are you properly patriotic? Because if you ain't, this chap's goin' to make you.'
' 'Hope he won't take up the whole of the evening. I suppose we've got to listen to him.'
' 'Wouldn't miss him for the world,' said M'Turk. 'A lot of chaps thought that Romeo-Romeo woman was a bore. I didn't. I liked her! 'Member when she began to hiccough in the middle of it? P'raps he'll hiccough. Whoever gets into the Gym first, bags seats for the other two.'
•••••
There was no nervousness, but a brisk and cheery affability about Mr. Raymond Martin, M.P., as he drove up, watched by many eyes, to the Head's house.
' 'Looks a bit of a bargee,' was M'Turk's comment, ''Shouldn't be surprised if he was a
