Well, don't you think it is a great improvement on the old
paper?" said Hardy. "I shall be out of rooms next term, and it
will be a hint to the College that the rooms want papering.
You're no judge of such matters, or I should ask you whether you
don't see great artistic taste in the arrangement."

"Why, they're nothing but maps, and lists of names and dates,"
said Tom, who had got up to examine the decorations. "And what in
the world are all these queer pins for?" he went on, pulling a
strong pin with a large red sealing-wax head out of the map
nearest to him.

"Hullo! take care there, what are you about?" shouted Hardy,
getting up and hastening to the corner. "Why, you irreverent
beggar, those pins are the famous statesmen and warriors of
Greece and Rome."

"Oh, I beg your pardon; I didn't know I was in such august
company;" saying which, Tom proceeded to stick the red-headed pin
back in the wall.

"Now, just look at that," said Hardy, taking the pin out from the
place where Tom had stuck it. "Pretty doings there would be
amongst them with your management. This pin is Brasidas; you've
taken him away from Naupactus, where he was watching the eleven
Athenian galleys anchored under the temple of Apollo, and struck
him down right in the middle of the Pnyx, where he will be
instantly torn in pieces by a ruthless and reckless mob. You call
yourself a Tory indeed! However, 'twas always the same with you
Tories; calculating, cruel, and jealous. Use your leaders up, and
throw them over--that's the golden rule of aristocracies."

"Hang Brasidas," said Tom, laughing; "stick him back at Naupactus
again. Here, which is Cleon? The scoundrel! give me hold of him,
and I'll put him in a hot berth."

"That's he, with the yellow head. Let him alone, I tell you, or
all will be hopeless confusion when Grey comes for his lecture.
We're only in the third year of the war."

"I like your chaff about Tories sacrificing their great men,"
said Tom, putting his hands in his pockets to avoid temptation.
"How about your precious democracy, old fellow? Which is
Socrates?"

"Here, the dear old boy!--this pin with the great grey head, in
the middle of Athens, you see. I pride myself on my Athens.
Here's the Piraeus and the long walls, and the hill of Mars.
Isn't it as good as a picture?"

"Well, it is better than most maps, I think," said Tom; "but
you're not going to slip out so easily. I want to know whether
your pet democracy did or