f Rome,' so as to prime
ourselves with the greatness of the past; and we hopes the glorious
examples of Romulus and Remus, but especially Hannibal, will sink into
our minds to spur us along. I am desirous to acquaint you with the way
I make my uncle's home brighter; but the 500 words is up. So looking
forward eagerly to resume my studdies, I am, respected sir, your
dilligent pupil."

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CHAPTER XX.

PRIMUS TO HIS UNCLE.

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Though we all pretended to be glad when Primus went, we spoke of him
briefly at times, and I read his letters aloud at our evening meetings.
Here is a series of them from my desk. Primus was now a year and a half
older and his spelling had improved.

I.

_November 16th._

DEAR UNCLE:--Though I have not written to you for a long time I often
think about you and Mr. Gilray and the rest and the Arcadia Mixture, and
I beg to state that my mother will have informed you I am well and happy
but a little overworked, as I am desirous of pleasing my preceptor by
obtaining a credible position in the exams, and we breakfast at 7:30
sharp. I suppose you are to give me a six-shilling thing again as a
Christmas present, so I drop you a line not to buy something I don't
want, as it is only thirty-nine days to Christmas. I think I'll have a
book again, but not a fairy tale or any of that sort, nor the "Swiss
Family Robinson," nor any of the old books. There is a rattling story
called "Kidnapped," by H. Rider Haggard, but it is only five shillings,
so if you thought of it you could make up the six shillings by giving me
a football belt. Last year you gave me "The Formation of Character," and
I read it with great mental improvement and all that, but this time I
want a change, namely, (1) not a fairy tale, (2) not an old book, (3)
not mental improvement book. Don't fix on anything without telling me
first what it is. Tell William John I walked into Darky and settled him
in three rounds. Best regards to Mr. Gilray and the others.

II.

_November 19th_.

DEAR UNCLE:--Our preceptor is against us writing letters he doesn't see,
so I have to carry the paper to the dormitory up my waistcoat and write
there, and I wish old Poppy smoked the Arcadia Mixture to make him more
like you. Never mind about the football belt, as I got Johnny Fox's for
two white mice; so I don't want "Kidnapped," which I wrote about to you,
as I want you to stick to six-shilling book. There is one ca