tion the master
was much at fault, having the faintest possible idea of where to find
anything, and being moreover wondrously short-sighted; but Tom by a sort
of instinct knew the right cupboards in the kitchen and pantry, and soon
managed to place on the snuggery table better materials for a meal than
had appeared there probably during the reign of his tutor, who was then
and there initiated, amongst other things, into the excellence of that
mysterious condiment, a dripping-cake. The cake was newly baked, and all
rich and flaky; Tom had found it reposing in the cook's private
cupboard, awaiting her return; and as a warning to her, they finished it
to the last crumb. The kettle sang away merrily on the hob of the
snuggery, for, notwithstanding the time of year, they lighted a fire,
throwing both the windows wide open at the same time. The heap of books
and papers were pushed away to the other end of the table, and the great
solitary engraving of King's College Chapel over the mantelpiece looked
less stiff than usual, as they settled themselves down in the twilight
to the serious drinking of tea.

After some talk on the match, and other indifferent subjects, the
conversation came naturally back to Tom's approaching departure, over
which he began again to make his moan.

"Well, we shall all miss you quite as much as you will miss us," said
the master. "You are the Nestor of the School now, are you not?"

"Yes, ever since East left," answered Tom.

"By the bye, have you heard from him?"

"Yes, I had a letter in February, just before he started for India to
join his regiment."

"He will make a capital officer."

"Aye, won't he!" said Tom, brightening; "no fellow could handle boys
better, and I suppose soldiers are very like boys. And he'll never tell
them to go where he won't go himself. No mistake about that--a braver
fellow never walked."

"His year in the sixth will have taught him a good deal that will be
useful to him now."

"So it will," said Tom, staring into the fire. "Poor dear Harry," he
went on, "how well I remember the day we were put out of the twenty. How
he rose to the situation, and burnt his cigar-cases, and gave away his
pistols, and pondered on the constitutional authority of the sixth, and
his new duties to the Doctor, and the fifth form, and the fags. Aye, and
no fellow ever acted up to them better, though he was always a people's
man--for the fags, and against constituted authorities. He cou