pink flowers.One was a Greek prince, and the other a Polish count, travelling for theimprovement of their own mind, and with the intention of establishing agreat public school like Eton in Greece or Turkey, or some outlandishplace or other. Well, there they were walking arm in arm through theHigh Street, looking into the shops and around them on every side, andstopping to admire the prospect whenever there was a prospect to admire,just for all the world like strangers who had never seen the placebefore. They caught sight of Mr Fowler coming along; so says one tothe other, `Let's sell him, and make him show us over the place.'`Agreed,' answers the other. They had been keeping up all their airs,and they knew that he had seen them, so they marched boldly up to him,and making him a polite bow, says one of them, `Saire, I see dat you areone academic gentleman, and if you will be kind to two strangers villyou have de great goodness to show us over dis grand, dis magnificenttown?' Mr Fowler, who was born and bred in Eton, and was very proud ofit, was highly delighted, and said that he would have the greatestpleasure in doing what they wished. They knew that, and so they knewwhen to lay it on the thickest. And so didn't they just praise theplace and the masters, and everything they saw, and a great deal theysaid that they had heard, till he was quite beside himself. Then theybegan talking Greek and Latin to him, and if he hadn't been so pleasedhe would have found them out. Then they asked all sorts of questionsabout the school, and he promised to write out all the rules andregulations, and the whole plan on which it was conducted, and a gooddeal of its history, and all his own ideas about founding a school. Themore inclined they found him to write, the more questions requiringanswers they plied him with; and ever after they boasted of the longimposition they had set him. They gave him an address of a friend oftheirs in London, and begged him to send what he had written there. Hedid send it, and they got it too, and they used to show his lucubrationswith no little pride, and all he had said about the school. He wouldhave been in a rage had he found them out. They asked to see one of thehouses just as they were passing their own tutor's, with whom they knewhe was intimate, and they actually made him show them their own rooms.It was a wonder they were not discovered, for there on the table in oneof the rooms was a wig and a false pair of moustaches. They hurried outin a great fright, saying that they did not think it was right tointrude on the privacy of any young students. At last, when they hadpretty well walked Mr Fowler off his legs, and got tired themselves,they wished him good-bye, with a profusion of thanks, and betookthemselves to the Christopher. They had invited him to dine with themat an hour they knew he could not come--not but what they would havebeen very happy to see him, but they thought the risk was too great--hemight have found them out eating. They had a jolly good dinner at theChristopher, and then they paid their bill and waited till dark, whenthey pulled off their moustaches and beards, and put on pea-coats,slipping out unobserved, and so got back safe to their rooms. One ofthem told me all about it afterwards, and I couldn't help thinking youwas him, sir."

  The Squire was milch amused, and encouraged old Spankie to continue hisnarrations.

  "Well, sir, if it wasn't you sold Mr Fowler so cleverly, it surely wasyou who got up the great donkey race on the Slough road, just outsideEton."

  "Suppose it was me, or suppose it was not, just do you tell my boy hereall about it. I like to hear you speak of old times," answered theSquire.

  "Well, sir, the young gentlemen got hold of two fine donkeys, and turnedout in regular jockey costume,--caps, silk jackets, top boots, and all.Great swells they looked, and there was no end of boys went out to seethem. The whole road was full for a mile or more. A course was formed,and off they set; but donkeys never will run when you want them, or,rather, they always will run when you don't want them. As ill-luckwould have it, who should come by but the Doctor. He wasn't a man a bitless than the present to play a joke with. What should one of theracers do but run right against his carriage, and make the horses kickand rear, and, in spite of all the unhappy jockey could do, he couldn'tget him away. The Doctor just saw who they were, and though it may besupposed he was in a towering rage, says he quietly enough, `Go to yourtutors and report yourselves, and come to me this evening.' Of coursethey knew that they would get flogged, and so one of them providedhimself with a pair of wicket-keeping gloves, and went in quite boldly.`It's my duty to flog you,' says the Doctor--`strip.' `It's my duty tosave my skin,' says the young gentleman, putting on his gloves quitedeliberately; and when the Doctor began, he warded off all the cuts tillthe master grew weary. Then he handed them to his friend, who put themon and saved himself in the same way. Of course they got all the creditof being flogged, and were laughed at for their pains, till they toldhow they had saved themselves with their cricketing gloves."

  "Tell that story to the marines," said the Squire. "However, I dare saysome of it is true enough; but I wasn't one of the jockeys, and Iwouldn't advise my son to imitate them either. However, old friend, Ilike to hear you talk of bygone days, and here's a five shilling piece.Let my son take it out in buns and tarts when he has a mind to do so."

  "Thank ye, sir, thank ye," said old Spankie, and the Squire walked on,knowing that he had secured another friend for Reginald. They hurriedon to Windsor Castle, which had been much altered and beautified sincethe Squire had seen it, and certainly, rising up as it does from itsrichly-green forest, with its terraces and towers, it has a peculiarlyhandsome and regal appearance. When they got back, the boys were justcoming out from two o'clock absence, and were running off to theirdames' and tutors' houses. The Squire looked narrowly at them as theypassed, to try and find the sons of any of his acquaintance who might bethere. Had he written to ascertain the houses they belonged to, hewould easily have discovered them. Suddenly Reginald left his father'sside, and ran after a boy whose hand he seized and wrung warmly.

  "What, Warrender, are you come here?" asked his friend.

  "Indeed I am," answered Reginald; "but I had no notion that you werehere, Power. How very fortunate I am to find you! But come along, I'llintroduce you to my father. He'll want you to dine with us."

  Of course Power was nothing loth to accept the invitation. He had comeup just in time, before he was too old, and had at once taken a fairstanding in the school, being in the upper division of the Fourth Form,and about to go into the lower remove. He was, too, in Reginald's ownhouse, which was a very great satisfaction. The Squire at length foundout the son of a friend of his--young Anson, and invited him to join hisdinner-party at the Christopher. As he wanted to see the cricketing andboating in the afternoon, he had ordered dinner early; and, saying hemight not exactly know what Eton boys of the present day liked, he hadleft the selection of the dishes to the landlord. A very merry partythey were seated round the dinner-table at the Christopher, and amplejustice did they all do to the dinner provided. The Squire wished togive the boys the best of everything, so he ordered champagne andclaret.

  "Wine?" said Anson, looking at Power.

  The latter nodded, and with due gravity they hobnobbed together, tossingoff the sparkling contents of their tall glasses.

  "Very good wine they give at the Christopher," observed Anson to theSquire; "in my opinion, this Chateau Margaux claret is about asfirst-rate tipple as one finds anywhere."

  "I fancied their Lafitte was better, and ordered it accordingly,"answered the Squire, much amused at his young friend's remarks.

  "Oh, certainly, I am very glad of that," quickly replied Anson. "Thefact is, I had not tasted their Lafitte, and supposed that they couldhave nothing better than their Chateau Margaux."

  "Try this, then," said the Squire, pushing a bottle of freshly-decantedclaret towards him; "say what you think of it."

  "Perfect nectar," answered the young gentleman, smacking his lips."This beats the other hollow. I must row mine host for not giving ushis best wine the last time I dined with my uncle here."

  "We were not so particular in my days," observed the Squire; "goodhonest port and sherry sufficed us. But I tell
you what, lads, stick tothe light wines, and a moderate quantity of them will do you no harm;but eschew spirits-and-water, or spirits in any shape, as you wouldpoison, and when you drink beer, don't go swilling away huge quantities,as I see some fellows doing, as if their insides were mere tuns made tohold liquor. Just look at the great, fat, pursy, bloated fellows youoften meet, and think how you would like to become as they are. Well,they brought themselves to that state by swilling beer andspirits-and-water. Others have sent themselves to their graves by thesame means, and others, though not pursy, have lost their health andstamina, and spirits, and are burdens to themselves, and useless in theworld."

  Reginald used to say of his father that he did not preach much, but thathe had a wonderful way of bringing in good advice, and sugaring it atthe same time. In the present instance he was washing down a temperanceharangue with champagne and claret. He knew that his advice would muchmore likely be taken than if he had ordered toast-and-water and smallbeer for dinner.

  In very good humour with themselves, with the world in general, and withEton in particular, which Reginald thought a first-rate place indeed,they sallied forth into the playing-fields, where several cricketmatches were going on. One, Oppidans against Collegers, excited mostinterest, because there always is, though there ought not to be, a gooddeal of party-feeling between the collegers, the boys on the foundation,and those who are not; the latter, who are more frequently sons of menof wealth and influence, looking down upon those who have gained theirposition by their talents and industry. The broad smooth green meadows,with the fine grey school buildings, and their magnificent trees risingup behind them, presented a very gay and animated appearance. Numbersof boys in their picturesque cricketing costumes were lying about in alldirections--England's nerve and spirit, and head and heart--those whowere hereafter to head her armies and guide her councils. Little wottedthey then of the destinies in store for some of them. A stranger mighthave said, as he saw their active forms bounding here and there--Thereis England's bone and muscle. So there was, but that is to be foundrather in her wide fields, in her mines, her coal-pits, on her broadquays, in her manufactories, in her towns, and on her railroads. Thedifferent games were sufficiently apart, so as not to interfere witheach other. Round each of the scorers knots of amateurs were collected,watching the game with intense interest, and applauding or condemning,as each hit was well or ill made or fielded. At a respectful distancefrom the wide-flying balls, a number of ladies, and children, andnurses, and other spectators, wandered about admiring the play or thecricketers.

  "Come along here," said Power to the Squire and Reginald, as he led themup to one of the best spots for witnessing the sport; "it's a hard-rungame--well hit, Hawkins--beautifully run!--he's my tutor's pupil--theothers will have hard work to get him out--I've known him score twice asmany as any other fellow in the eleven--bravo, Langdale!--a first-ratehit--well fielded, too--he'll get caught out though--he often does--hehits too wildly."

  So Power ran on. The Squire at once entered into the spirit of thegame. He clapped his hands as enthusiastically as any boy. "Capitallyhit!--Smartly run!" he shouted. "Reggie, my boy, I wish that you wereplaying. Well done! Who is that tall fellow with the light hair? Hecaught out Langdale in fine style. You said he would be caught out."

  "Oh, that's Gull, an Oppidan," answered Power; "he's one of their bestfielders. Who is going in next, I wonder? Beaumont, I see. Ah, he'sone of our crack players."

  "Beautiful! beautiful!" shouted the Squire, as other hits were made."Capital--first-rate--bravo--bravo--well run--a superb hit!"

  His animated remarks soon drew the attention of the boys towards him.When they heard from Anson that he was an old Etonian, they regarded himwith a respect he might not otherwise have obtained, and all were eagerto show him any attention in their power. They went on end had a lookat the other games, and at last the hour came when it was necessary forthe Squire to turn his steps towards the station. He had also on hisway there to introduce Reginald to his tutor, Mr Lindsay. Old Spankiehad been looking out for them. He had seen Power with him, and thuslearned his name and all about him.

  "Ah, Mr Warrender," quoth the man of buns and tarts; "it's a greatpleasure to feel that you remembered me, as well as I remembered you.The moment I set my eyes on that young gentleman, I was certain that hewas your son. If he had come alone, I should have known that his namewas Warrender."

  This assertion was even more than the Squire could well swallow.

  "I used to find your buns more digestible than your word; I hope theyare so now," he answered, laughing.

  The Squire did not forget a good thing when he said it himself, and thissaying was many a time afterwards repeated to his own infinitesatisfaction at Blessingham. He was able most conscientiously tointroduce Reginald with a very good character to Mr Lindsay, who beinga good physiognomist, was satisfied that he had got a tractable pupil.The three boys accompanied the Squire to the station. Reginald did notfeel a particle of sadness till just as the Squire was getting into thecarriage, and then a suffocating sensation rose up in his throat whichmade him feel that he must have a good hearty cry--not for himself, butit was a reminder of how much he loved his father. Away rattled, andpuffed, and smoked, and steamed the train, and Reginald Warrender wasleft to his own resources.

  STORY THREE, CHAPTER TWO.

  Reginald, with Power and Anson, as soon as they had seen the Squire off,hurried back to the Brocas--some fields on the banks of the river. Therapidly-flowing stream passes by them, and on its smooth but somewhatsedgy current all sorts of boating were taking place, and Reginald wasquickly initiated into a knowledge of the variety of craft used by theboys. As he was very well up to boating, he found no difficulty in thematter.

  "Here, you see," said Power, "we have one ten-oared and six eight-oaredboats. Any boy in the Fifth form may join them. There is another upperand four lower Fifth-Form boats. We speak of the three upper and fourlower boats. There is a captain for each of them, and he selects hiscrew from among the fellows who wish to join. You observe that the crewof each boat has a different uniform, and on grand occasions, when allappear in full dress, we flatter ourselves that we appear to greatadvantage. Besides these, there are what we call outriggers, andtunnies, and tubs; and, of course, you will at once have one of them."

  "Which do you intend to be, Warrender, a `dry bob,' or a `wet bob'?"said Anson, coming up to them. "I hope the latter."

  Reginald did not exactly know what this meant; but as Anson had givenhim a hint, he answered, "Oh, of course a wet bob."

  "Oh, ah, that's the swell thing. I am glad of it. I thought you werethe sort of fellow for wet-bobbing."

  Reginald found that wet-bobbing consisted in paddling about in a boat ofone's own, even though it might be only a "tub," or dinghy.

  "But, I say, can you swim?" asked Anson; "because you know that you willnot be able to boat till you have `passed.'"

  "What's passing?" asked Reginald.

  "Oh, I'll tell you," said Anson. "A good number of fellows from time totime got drowned from boats being capsized, and at last a law was passedthat no fellow should be allowed to boat till he had passed a swimmingexamination before certain of the masters. We have an old waterman,Harry Cannon, who teaches the lower boys to swim at Cuckoo Weir. Assoon as he thinks a fellow can swim well enough he advises him to have atry the next passing day. It's great fun to see the weather-beaten oldfellow Harry in his Eton blue coat and Eton arms worked in silver on hissleeve, as he sits in his punt from one end to the other of a summer'sday, dangling lower boys at the end of a short blue pole. Oftenfellows, if they have any pluck, can swim in two or three weeks. Theymake nothing of bathing three times a day in summer when they arelearning to swim. Just go any warm summer day to Cuckoo Weir, aftertwelve, or after four, or after six, and you'll find it crowded withfellows bathing, and many of them waiting till Harry can give them aturn in his belt. On a passing day two or three of the masters comedown an
d take their stand just above `Middle Steps.' A punt thencarries out a number of shivering and rather funking fellows into themiddle of the stream, and as the master gives the word, one afteranother jumps overboard, and according to his pluck takes a `rat'sheader' or `forter.' Then away they swim to the lower steps, and ifthey get there in safety and in pretty good style, they have to swim outagain from where the master is standing, turn, and come back when hecalls. If they sing out like Caesar, `Help me, Cassius, or I sink,'they are handed over again to Harry Cannon for further instruction; butif the master says `You'll do,' then the chances are that some of thefriends of the fellow who has passed have come up in a boat, and theysay that they will take him down to the Brocas if he will steer them.The probabilities are, that he knows nothing about steering, and aslittle about the sides of the river he ought to keep; so, of course, hewill run them into the bank once or twice, if not oftener, before theyget into the real river at `Bargeman's Bridge,' and he is certain to getin the way of an eight just below Brocas Clump, from not crossing oversoon enough. But you'll know all about this before long, so I needn'thave told you, except that it is useful to know what you have to gothrough. I forgot to tell you that the bathing-place to which the fifthform go is called Athens, and of course it is a good deal better thanCuckoo Weir."

  Reginald thanked Anson very much for his graphic account of theirbathing and boating, and he said that he should, thanks to Toby Tubb'sinstruction, get passed on the first passing day, that he might at oncebegin boating.

  This resolution was very much applauded, for both Power and Anson werewarm advocates of boating. It was now nearly lock-up time, so they hadto go back to their tutors. On their way Reginald was accosted by anumber of boys, who, in pretty sharp tones, inquired his name.

  "Are you at a dame's house?"

  "No; I am in Mr Lindsay's house," he answered.

  "I say, are you come to school here? What's your name, then?" askedanother. "What house are you in?"

  Reginald told him. So on it went till nearly a hundred boys had madethe same inquiries, and received the same answer. Reginald was notsorry to get back to Mr Lindsay's, for he was really beginning to gettired, and be a little hungry, too, in spite of his dinner at theChristopher. Power and Anson came to his room to help him put it inorder; but he had a considerable number of other visitors, mostlyFourth-Form boys, who came in to ask him his name, and to make him tellall about himself.

  "I knew a Warrender," said one. "Are you his cousin? He was a fellowwith a hooked nose and hawk's eyes."

  "Warrender you mean," put in another; "Warrender who was here was a verygood-looking fellow, only he squinted with one eye, and never couldparse a line of Horace correctly."

  Reginald said that he had no cousin that he knew of, though he mightpossibly be related to the talented individual spoken of. The answershe made to the very miscellaneous and unexpected questions put to himsatisfied them that the new boy was no "muff." The lower boysespecially felt a great respect for him, because he acted in so verydifferent a way from what they had done, and took all things socompletely us matters of course. He went into Power's room to take tea,where Anson and two or three other fellows of Power's standing joinedthem. He was in the lower Fifth Form. Shortly before bed-time theywent down to the hall to supper. Here he, of course, had again to replyto the various questions put to him by boys he had not before met. ThenMr Lindsay invited him to come and have some conversation, and seemedtolerably satisfied by the answers he made to all the questions put tohim. A bell then rang, and the names of all the boys belonging to thehouse being called over by one of the praepositors, to ascertain thatnone were missing, prayers were read by Mr Lindsay, after which all theboys retired to their rooms to go to bed. Reginald, as may be supposed,very quickly tumbled into his, and went to sleep. Thus ended the firstday at Eton.

  At his age we are apt to count time by days, and to note especially theevents of each day. As we grow older, we reckon oftener by weeks--advancing, we think it enough to note what has happened during eachmonth, till at last the years themselves slip by with almost therapidity, we fancy, of our earlier days. Two important things withreference to this remark should be remembered when we are young. Oneis, that we must prepare for the future, or the future which we havefancied so far off will come suddenly and find us unprepared; anotheris, that we should learn to wait patiently for events till they occur,being assured that they will occur, and that we should, in the meantime,endeavour to employ ourselves to the best possible advantage. Many ayoung man fancies that it is not worth while preparing for what cannothappen for so long a time; or again, that the time has already passedfor doing a thing, and that it is useless to attempt it. This isespecially the case with regard to commencing some useful employment, orpreparing for a profession. It is never too late to be employedusefully. Many a man has risen high in a profession into which he hasnot entered till late in life.

  Sunday is truly a day of rest at Eton. Reginald found that he was notexpected to get up till nearly nine o'clock. As he was always an earlyriser, he was dressed before eight, and set to work systematically tounpack his clothes and to put them away. Then he sat down to read, andthe book he read every boy will do well to read, not only on Sundays,but on other days in the week. After he had read a couple of chapters,he found that he had still some time to spare, so he arranged the bookshe had brought on some book-shelves hanging against the wall, and thenPower came in and told him that he must come and breakfast with him.Prayer bell next rang, and all the boys in the house assembled in thehall, when, as usual, Mr Lindsay read prayers.

  Reginald was much surprised to find so many big fellows either in thesixth form, or in the upper Middle-Fifth--from fifteen years old up tonineteen and even twenty--in every respect full-grown men. As he lookedat them he thought to himself, "I suppose that I shall have to be fag tosome of those big fellows--clean their boots, and brush their clothes.Well, patience; many a better fellow than I am has done the same thing,and not been the worse for it. Whoever fags me shall not have tocomplain that I am in a sulky pet--that I'm determined." Prayers over,they all hurried to breakfast.

  Reginald accompanied Power to his room, where three or four otherfellows were assembled. He was scarcely prepared for the capital repasthe found spread. There were a couple of cold chickens and a tongue,some potted meat or other, and his well-known acquaintance, a pot oforange marmalade, one of strawberry jam, and some honey. There wereboth tea and coffee, a good allowance of butter (there is a regularquantity served out), and a large pile of hot rolls,--three, he found,being served every day to each boy.

  Breakfast occupied nearly an hour, and very pleasant Reginald found it.He then had to get ready for morning chapel at eleven.

  "I am glad to see that you have brought a couple of good hats," observedPower. "I was afraid that you might have thought that you could goabout Osberton fashion in a cap or tarpaulin. We here, you see, neverwear anything but black hats, except with cricketing and boatingdresses. Remind me to have a look at your other things to see that theyare all right. It's as well to be particular. If you are, you'll takea good standing at once in the school among the fellows: better by halfbe a dandy than a sloven or a muff."

  On their way to chapel Reginald was accosted continually as on the daybefore by fellows asking his name and all sorts of questions, but he hada ready and a good-natured answer for all.

  He did not think that there was much devotion at chapel, especially as agreat number of the boys came provided with a store of sacking things,with which they were continually filling their mouths, such aslollipops, sugar-candy, barley-sugar, and other sweet compositions.

  It is extraordinary what an amount of these inside-deranging mixtures,supplied by the renowned Spankie and other men at the Wall, lower boysat Eton will consume. The Wall, _par excellence_, Reginald soon foundout is a low wall in front of the upper school, outside the school-yard."The men at the Wall" are sellers of "sock;" that is, eatables--sw
eetmixtures generally. They are so called from usually taking their standthere. Old Spankie has been described as a soft-tongued fat old man,who professed to know about everything and about everybody. He carriesa tin, and deals mostly in buns and jam. Another man wheels in ahand-cart after every school-time, from which he produces ices,strawberry messes, and sucking-things of all sorts.

  "You remember the Squire's advice," observed Power; "I adhere to hisprinciples, but all the fellows don't. It is extraordinary how theywill run into debt with those men, and more than anticipate their nexthalf-year's pocket-money--little geese that they are. It enrages me tosee some of them sucking and eating away all the day long, as if thatwas their chief object in life. I call them sucking babies, but itwould be difficult to break them of the practice. I have known fellowsat the beginning of the half obliged to dodge those cake-men as if theywere bum-bailiffs and they gentlemen in difficulties, either going intothe school-yard by the lower school passage, or else sneaking in closebehind a master, knowing that they would not attempt to attack them inhis presence. It is extraordinary what some of them will eat. I wasonce fagged by two Fifth-Form boys who were `staying out,' that is,supposed to be too unwell to go into school, and what do you think itwas for? You would scarcely believe me when I tell you that these sickfellows, and I suppose that there was something the matter with them,had laid a wager one against the other, that they would eat six dozenoranges a-piece. The one who could not manage it was, of course, to bethe loser. The two dozen I got them was, I know, the fifth instalment.One ate rather more than six dozen, the other was very sick when he hadfinished the fifth; but you may depend on it, both of them had to `stayout' for two or three days after it, and to take no end of medicine."

  "I should think so, nasty pigs!" exclaimed Reginald, who, although hecould make very good play with his knife and fork at dinner orbreakfast, had a great contempt for sweatmeat and sugar-plum eaters.

  "You are right," said Power. "Those sort of fellows are mere gratifiersof a low animal propensity, like the unlicked cubs of a bear,