a
football field on the giggle; sending a concert-audience into fits.
But he was just the sort of schoolboy of whom there would be no
incidents to record. Men who knew him and lived with him in those days
remember him, perhaps, more distinctly than any other boy of their
time, and at the merest mention of his name their eyes twinkle with
delight. "Oh, old Bathing Towel. George! what a funny beggar he was.
Remember him? I should think I did. Stories about him? Well, I don't
remember any just now, but dear old Bathing Towel----!" and off they
go into another roar of laughter. All they can tell you is how he used
to act and recite, and play all manner of musical instruments, or, if
you drag them away from the stage, how he used to rend the air with
his terrible war-whoop at the critical moment in a football match.

But although this is how it strikes a contemporary, Baden-Powell was
in deadly earnest when it was a matter of books and ink-pots. He might
be the funny man of the school, but he was also one of the most
brilliant. He gave his masters the impression of a boy who really
delighted in getting on; who was really keen about mastering a
difficult subject. His vivacity and freshness, his energy and vigour,
helped him to take pleasure in work which to another boy, less
physically blessed, would have been an irksome toil; but though his
body may have projected him some distance upon his way, it was his
soul that really carried him triumphantly through. The spirit of
Baden-Powell in those days was what it is now--supremely intent upon
beating down obstacles in his path, and resolute to do well whatever
the moment's duty might be. So the boy who was setting a football
field on the roar at one moment, at the next would be sitting with
fixed eyes and knit brows, "hashing" at Latin verses, as serious as a
leader-writer hurling his bolts at the European Powers.

The master who best remembers B.-P. is Mr. Girdlestone, in whose house
our hero spent four years of his school-days. Looking back over the
past Mr. Girdlestone finds that what impressed him most in B.-P.
during his school-days was the boy's manner with his elders. He was
reserved, very reserved, and he never had any one close chum at
school; but apparently he was quite free of shyness, as he would
approach his masters without any trace of that timidity which too
often marks the commerce of boy with master. On an afternoon's walk,
for instance, B.-P. would not be fou