that of our masters? Fancy, then,
the difference to them in looking over a Vulgus which has been
carefully touched and retouched by themselves and others, and which
must bring them a sort of dreamy pleasure, as if they'd met the
thought or expression of it somewhere or another,--before they were
born, perhaps,--and that of cutting up, and making picture-frames
round all your and my false quantities and other monstrosities. Why,
Tom, you wouldn't be so cruel as never to let old Momus hum over the
'O genus humanum' again, and then look up doubtingly through his
spectacles, and end by smiling and giving three extra marks for it;
just for old sake's sake, I suppose."

"Well," said Tom, getting up in something as like a huff as he was
capable of, "it's deuced hard that when a fellow's really trying to do
what he ought, his best friends'll do nothing but chaff him and try to
put him down." And he stuck his books under his arm, and his hat on
his head, preparatory to rushing out into the quadrangle, to testify
with his own soul of the faithlessness of friendships.

"Now don't be an ass, Tom," said East, catching hold of him; "you know
me well enough by this time; my bark's worse than my bite. You can't
expect to ride your new crotchet without anybody's trying to make him
kick you off: especially as we shall have to go on foot still. But now
sit down, and let's go over it again. I'll be as serious as a judge."

Then Tom sat himself down on the table, and waxed eloquent about all
the righteousness and advantages of the new plan, as was his wont
whenever he took up anything; going into it as if his life depended
upon it, and sparing no abuse which he could think of, of the opposite
method, which he denounced as ungentlemanly, cowardly, mean, lying,
and no one knows what besides. "Very cool of Tom," as East thought,
but didn't say, "seeing as how he only came out of Egypt[10] himself
last night at bed-time."

[10] #Came out of Egypt#: escaped from bondage, began a new
course of life.

"Well, Tom," said he, at last, "you see, when you and I came to school
there were none of these sort of notions. You may be right--I dare say
you are. Only what one has always felt about the masters is that it's
a fair trial of skill and last[11] between us and them--like a match
at foot-ball, or a battle. We're natural enemies in school, that's the
fact. We've got to learn so much Latin and Greek and do so many
verses, and they've got