and looks rather
used up, which isn't much to be wondered at, seeing that he has just
finished six weeks of examination work: but there he basks, and
spreads himself out in the evening sun, bent on enjoying life, though
he doesn't quite know what to do with his arms and legs. Surely it is
our friend the young master, whom we have had glimpses of before, but
his face has gained a great deal since we last came across him.

And by his side, in white flannel shirt and trousers, straw hat, the
captain's belt, and the untanned yellow cricket-shoes which all the
eleven wear, sits a strapping figure, near six feet high, with ruddy
tanned face and whiskers, curly brown hair, and a laughing, dancing
eye. He is leaning forward, with his elbows resting on his knees, and
dandling his favorite bat, with which he has made thirty or forty runs
to-day, in his strong brown hands. It is Tom Brown, grown into a young
man nineteen years old, a praepostor and captain of the eleven,
spending his last day as a Rugby boy, and let us hope as much wiser as
he is bigger since we last had the pleasure of coming across him.

And at their feet on the warm dry ground, similarly dressed, sits
Arthur, Turkish fashion, with his bat across his knees. He, too, is no
longer a boy, less of a boy in fact than Tom, if one may judge from
the thoughtfulness of his face, which is somewhat paler, too, than one
could wish; but his figure, though slight, is well knit and active,
and all his old timidity has disappeared, and is replaced by silent
quaint fun, with which his face twinkles all over, as he listens to
the broken talk between the other two, in which he joins now and then.

All three are watching the game eagerly, and joining in the cheering
that follows every good hit. It is pleasing to see the easy friendly
footing which the pupils are on with their master, perfectly
respectful, yet with no reserve and nothing forced in their
intercourse. Tom has clearly abandoned the old theory of "natural
enemies" in this case at any rate.

THEIR TALK.

But it is time to listen to what they are saying, and see what we can
gather out of it.

"I don't object to your theory," says the master, "and I allow you
have made a fair case for yourself. But, now, in such books as
Aristophanes, for instance, you've been reading a play this half with
the Doctor, haven't you?"

"Yes, 'The Knights,'"[25] answered Tom.

[25] #"The Knights"#: a Greek comedy by Aristoph'a