ir at meetings of college societies, coach one or
two "specialists," superintend the games on the college gymkhana ground,
interview seekers after truth and perverters of the same, write letters
on various matters of college business, visit the hostel, set question
papers and correct answers, attend common-room meetings, write articles
for the college magazine and papers for the Scientific, Philosophical,
Shakespearean, Mathematical, Debating, Literary, Historical, Students',
Old Boys', or some other "union" and, if God willed, get a little
exercise and private study at his beloved "subject" and invention,
before preparing for the morrow.

On Sundays, the thousand and one things crowded out of the programme
were to be cleared up, his home mail was to be written, and then arrears
of work had to be attacked.

At four o'clock he addressed Roy Pittenweem and Mrs. MacDougall, his
dogs, and said:--

"There's a bloomin' bun-snatch somewhere, you fellers, don't it?".
Though a Professor and one of the most keen and earnest workmen in
India, his own college blazers were not quite worn out, and Life, the
great Artist, had not yet done much sketching on the canvas of his
face--in spite of his daily contact with the Science Professor, William
Greatorex Bonnett, B.A., widely known as the Mad Hatter, the greatest
of whose many great achievements is his avoidance of death at the hands
of his colleagues and acquaintance.

Receiving no reply beyond a wink and a waggle, he dropped his blue
pencil, rose, and went to the table sacred to litter; and from a wild
welter of books, pipes, papers, golf-balls, hats, cigar-boxes,
dog-collars, switches, cartridges and other sediment, he extracted a
large gilt-edged card and studied it without enthusiasm or bias.

"Large coat of arms," he murmured--"patience--no--a pay-sheet on a
monument asking for time; item a hand, recently washed; ditto, a dickey
bird--possibly pigeon plucked proper or gull argent; guinea-pig
regardant and expectant; supporters, two bottliwallahs rampant. Crest, a
bum-boat flottant, and motto '_Cinq-cento-percentum_'. All done in gold.
Likewise in gold and deboshed gothic, the legend 'Sir and Lady Fuggilal
Potipharpar, At Home. To meet Mr. and Mrs. Cornelius Gosling-Green, M.P.
Five p.m. C.T.' ... Now what the devil, Roy Pittenweem, _is_ C.T.? Is it
'Curious Time' or 'Cut for Trumps' or a new decoration for gutter
plutocrats? It _might_ mean 'Calcutta Time,' mightn't it, as