chummed together. Now I'm going to be quite sober for a quarter of an hour, which is more than I am once in a year; so make the most of it; heave ahead, and pitch into me right and left."
"Dear Tom, I ain't going to pitch into you," said Arthur, piteously; "and it seems so cocky in me to be advising you, who've been my backbone ever since I've been at Rugby, and have made the school a paradise to me. Ah, I see I shall never do it, unless I go head-over-heels at once, as you said when you taught me to swim. Tom, I want you to give up using vulgus-books and cribs."
Arthur sank back on to his pillow with a sigh, as if the effort had been great; but the worst was now over, and he looked straight at Tom, who was evidently taken aback. He leant his elbows on his knees, and stuck his hands into his hair, whistled a verse of " Billy Taylor," and then was quite silent for another minute. Not a shade crossed his face, but he was clearly puzzled. At last he looked up, and caught Arthur's anxious look, took his hand, and said simply—
"Why, young un "
"Because you're the honestest boy in Rugby, and that ain't honest."
"I don't see that."
"What were you sent to Rugby for?"
"Well, I don't know exactly—nobody ever told me. I suppose because all boys are sent to a public school, in England."
"But what do you think yourself? What do you want to do here, and to carry away?"
Tom thought a minute. " I want to be A 1 at cricket and football, and all the other games, and to make my hands keep my head against any
