hem out again when he came
back."

It seems to me that in my young days the prospect of breaking up and
going home for the holidays was a period which occasioned a greater
amount of rejoicing and excitement than it does among the younger
generation of the present time. For one thing, the contrast between
school and home was greater then; and again, the half-year was longer
than the term, and the end of it the more eagerly awaited. Now, my
grandchildren appear to be no sooner packed off to school than they are
back again. In addition to all this, when that particular vacation
drew near, the prospect of returning home with Miles for a fortnight at
Coverthorne made me long all the more for the few remaining days to
pass; and when at length we flung our dog-eared school books into our
desks for the last time, and rushed out into the playground to give
vent to our feelings with three rousing cheers, I know I shouted till I
was hoarse.

Owing to the limited accommodation on the coaches, we had two actual
breaking-up days--half of the boys going home on the one and half on
the other, those whose progress in school work had been most
satisfactory being allowed to start first.

Miles and I had the good fortune to be numbered among the latter, and I
don't think I shall ever forget that bright summer morning when,
together with several more companions, we started to walk to the little
village of Round Green, through which the coach passed about nine
o'clock. Our luggage had already preceded us in a cart, to be
transferred to the boot of the _Regulator_, the guard of which, George
Woodley by name, was a prime favourite with us boys.

Shutting my eyes for a moment, I can imagine myself standing again
outside the Sportsman Inn at Round Green, waiting with boyish eagerness
for the first distant note of the horn which--this being the end of a
stage--was sounded to give the hostlers warning to bring out the fresh
horses. What music ever was so sweet on a bright summer morning as
that gay call, coupled with the brisk clattering of the hoofs, when it
sounded in the ears of a boy returning home from school? How we held
our breath and strained our ears to listen for the approaching vehicle!
I could almost imagine I heard that far-off fanfare now, forgetful of
the fact that the gulf of a long life divides me from that time, that
the railway has long displaced the _Regulator_, and that coachman,
guard, and most of their young pas