ovidence intended cribs to be used."

"The thing to find out," said Tom meditatively, "is how long one ought
to grind at a sentence without looking at the crib. Now I think if one
fairly looks out all the words one don't know, and then can't hit it,
that's enough."

"To be sure, Tommy," said East demurely, but with a merry twinkle in his
eye. "Your new doctrine too, old fellow," added he, "when one comes to
think of it, is a cutting at the root of all school morality. You'll
take away mutual help, brotherly love, or in the vulgar tongue, giving
construes, which I hold to be one of our highest virtues. For how can
you distinguish between getting a construe from another boy, and using a
crib? Hang it, Tom, if you're going to deprive all our school-fellows of
the chance of exercising Christian benevolence and being good
Samaritans, I shall cut the concern."

"I wish you wouldn't joke about it, Harry; it's hard enough to see one's
way, a precious sight harder than I thought last night. But I suppose
there's a use and an abuse of both, and one'll get straight enough
somehow. But you can't make out anyhow that one has a right to use old
vulgus-books and copy-books."

"Hullo, more heresy! how fast a fellow goes down hill when he once gets
his head before his legs. Listen to me, Tom. Not use old
vulgus-books?--why, you Goth! ain't we to take the benefit of the
wisdom, and admire and use the work of past generations? Not use old
copy-books! Why you might as well say we ought to pull down Westminster
Abbey, and put up a go-to-meeting-shop with churchwarden windows; or
never read Shakespere, but only Sheridan Knowles. Think of all the work
and labour that our predecessors have bestowed on these very books; and
are we to make their work of no value?"

"I say, Harry, please don't chaff; I'm really serious."

"And then, is it not our duty to consult the pleasure of others rather
than our own, and above all 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 the