low, lout or gentleman. I want to get into the sixth before I
leave, and to please the Doctor; and I want to carry away just as much
Latin and Greek as will take me through Oxford respectably. There now,
young un, I never thought of it before, but that's pretty much about
my figure. Isn't it all on the square? What have you got to say to
that?"

"Why, that you are pretty sure to do all that you want, then."

"Well, I hope so. But you've forgot one thing, what I want to leave
behind me. I want to leave behind me," said Tom, speaking slow, and
looking much moved, "the name of a fellow who never bullied a little
boy, or turned his back on a big one."

Arthur pressed his hand, and after a moment's silence went on: "You
say, Tom, you want to please the Doctor. Now, do you want to please
him by what he thinks you do, or by what you really do?"

"By what I really do, of course."

"Does he think you use cribs and Vulgus-books?"

Tom felt at once that his flank was turned,[13] but he couldn't give
in. "He was at Winchester himself," said he; "he knows all about it."

[13] #His flank was turned#: he was taken at a disadvantage.

"Yes, but does he think _you_ use them? Do you think he approves of
it?"

"You young villain!" said Tom, shaking his fist at Arthur, half vexed
and half pleased. "I never think about it. Hang it--there, perhaps he
doesn't. Well, I suppose he doesn't."

TOM'S CONFESSIONS.

Arthur saw that he had got his point; he knew his friend well, and was
wise in silence as in speech. He only said, "I would sooner have the
Doctor's good opinion of me as I really am than any man's in the
world."

After another minute, Tom began again; "Look here, young un, how on
earth am I to get time to play the matches this half, if I give up
cribs? We're in the middle of that long crabbed chorus in the
Agamemnon;[14] I can only just make head or tail of it with the crib.
Then there's Pericles' speech coming on in Thucydides, and 'The Birds'
to get up for the examination, besides the Tacitus." Tom groaned at
the thought of his accumulated labors. "I say, young un, there's only
five weeks or so left to the holidays; mayn't I go on as usual for
this half? I'll tell the Doctor about it some day, or you may."

Arthur looked out of the window; the twilight had come on, and all was
silent. He repeated, in a low voice, "In this thing the Lord pardon
thy servant, that when my master goeth into the house of Rimmon, to
w