to bad health which kept you from
taking to outdoor life more, but neither he nor I had the least idea
that you carried it to such an extent, and it did not show so much till
you came home after this last half."

"No, not till now, my boy," said Sir John.

"The result of the grinding of the past four years is just coming out
with a rush," continued the doctor, "and if you went back to the school
you would break down by the next holidays."

"If I went back?" cried the boy. "If? Oh, I must go back. I am
expected to take some of the principal prizes next year."

"And lose the greatest prize that can be gained by a young man, my lad--
health."

"Hah!" sighed Sir John; "he is quite right, Jack, I am afraid."

"Right as right, my boy. Here in four years you have done the work of
about eight. It's very grand, no doubt, but it won't do."

"But what is to be done?" cried Sir John.

"Let the brain run fallow for the other four years, and give the body a
chance," said the doctor bluntly.

"What! do nothing for four years?" cried the lad indignantly.

"Who said do nothing?" said the doctor testily.

"Do something else. Rest your brain with change, and give your body a
fair chance of recovering its tone."

"Yes, Jack, my boy; he is quite right," cried Sir John.

"But, father, I should be wretched."

"How do you know?" said the doctor. "You have tried nothing else but
books. There is something else in the world besides books, my lad. Ask
your father if there is not. What's that about sermons in insects and
running stones in the brooks, Meadows? I never can recollect
quotations. Don't you imagine, my conceited young scholiast, that there
is nothing to be seen or studied that does not exist in books. But I'm
growing hoarse with talking and telling you the simple truth."

"Yes, Jack, my boy, it is the simple truth," said Sir John. "I was
saying something of the kind to you, as you know, when Doctor Instow
came; but all the time I was sure that you were ill--and you are."

"Oh yes, he's ill, and getting worse. Any one can see that."

"But I do not feel ill, father."

"Don't feel languid, I suppose?" said the doctor.

"Well, yes, I do often feel languid," said Jack, "when the weather is--"

"Bother the weather!" roared the doctor. "What business has a boy like
you to know anything about the weather? Your father and I at your age
would have played football, or cricket, or gone fishing in any weather-