to end without some allusion to 'Hands Across the Sea' and the
Thickness of Blood (compared with water) and the 'Necessity for a Cash
nexus just to symbolise the brother'ood.'

But it was the new type of 'Deemagogue' that really vexed Galer.
During the previous evening Galer, after explaining to Martin the ways,
the abominably expensive ways of the Oxford world, had gone on to
elaborate his favourite theme. And now, before eight o'clock in the
morning, he was at it again.

"Clors against Clors," he grunted. "Wot I says is Capital and Labour
'as identical interests. Identical. These 'ere strikes plays the
jimmy with both."

Martin yawned, turned over, and pretended to sleep.

"Quarter to eight, sir," continued Galer. "It was orl right when these
Unions knew their proper business and kept their contrax. Wot I says
is a bargain is a bargain." And with this discovery he went wheezing
from the room.

Martin got up at nine, inspected the tin bath which had an inch of icy
water on its blackened, paintless bottom, and concluded that it was not
inviting. However, moved by his fear of Galer and a desire not to win
his scout's contempt at the outset, he splashed feebly with the water.
He deferred shaving and went to look at his breakfast. In the
fireplace he found two poached eggs beneath a tin cover. They had been
standing for over an hour and had become solid, resembling jelly with a
tough crust on the edge of it. The fire had been a failure, the kettle
sat in obstinate silence, and Martin ultimately made tea with water
that had not boiled. The result was a greenish beverage with shoals of
tea-leaves floating on the surface. There were four solid boards of
toast, once endued, presumably, with the crisp seductions of youth, and
an immense roll whose spongy giblets would have beaten the strongest
digestion. No one ever ate these monstrous things and what Galer did
with them was another matter of conjecture. Some maintained that he
fed his family on them neat: others that there was a permanent
bread-and-butter pudding on the Galer menu.

Martin had come up to Oxford firmly convinced that he was about to sink
into Luxury's softest lap. He found that he had to live in two dingy
rooms three storeys from the ground. The "bedder" had a tiny slot of a
window opening on to the kitchens of a neighbouring college: the
"sitter" was slightly larger but just as dark. All the furniture, for
which a heavy rent was charg