Page:Tom Brown's School Days (6th ed).djvu/172

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TOM BROWN'S

alive with boys of all ages, who sauntered about on the grass or walked round the gravel walk in parties of two or three. East, still doing the cicerone, pointed out all the remarkable characters to Tom as they passed: Osbert, who could throw a cricket-ball from the little-side ground over the rook-trees to the Doctor's wall; Gray, who had got the Balliol scholarship, and, what East evidently thought of much more importance, a half-holiday for the school by his success; Thorne, who had run ten miles in two minutes over the hour; Black, who had held his own against the cock of the town in the last row with the louts; and many more heroes, who then and there walked about and were worshipped, all trace of whom has long since vanished from the scene of their fame. And the fourth-form boy who reads their names rudely cut out on the old hall-tables or painted upon the big side-cupboard (if hall-tables and big side-cupboards still exist) wonders what manner of boys they were. It will be the same with you who wonder, my sons, whatever your prowess may be, in cricket or scholarship or football. Two or three years, more or less, and then the steadily advancing, blessed wave will pass over your names as it has passed over ours. Nevertheless, play your games and do your work manfully—see only that that be done, and let the remembrance of it take care of itself.

The chapel-bell began to ring at a quarter to eleven, and Tom got in early and took his place in the lowest row and watched all the other boys come in and take their places, filling row after row, and tried to construe the Greek text which was inscribed over the door with the slightest possible success, and wondered which of the masters who walked down the chapel and took their seats in the exalted boxes at the end would be his lord. And then came the closing of the doors, and the Doctor in his robes and the service, which, however, didn't impress him much, for his feeling of wonder and curiosity was too strong. And the boy on one side of him was scratching his name on the oak panelling in front, and he couldn't help watching to see what the name was, and whether

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