accompany his new friend.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

HOW MY MASTER AND I WENT OUT TO BREAKFAST, AND WHOM WE MET.

Jim Halliday--now a strapping youth of nineteen--was a good
representative of the "steady set" at Saint George's College. Indeed,
as he was intending to become a clergyman in due time, it would have
been a deplorable thing if this had not been the case. He worked hard,
and though not a clever fellow, had already taken a good position in the
examination lists of his college. He was also an ardent superintendent
at a certain ragged-school in the town conducted by University men; and
was further becoming a well-known figure in the debates at the Union--on
all which accounts his friends were not a little satisfied. But on one
point Jim and his friends did not hit it. Ever since his Randlebury
days he had kept up his passion for athletic sports, and if he had now
been famous for nothing else at his college, he would at least have been
noted as a good bat, a famous boxer, a desperate man in a football
scrimmage, and a splendid oar. It was on this subject that Jim and his
relations were at variance. When I speak of "relations" I refer, by the
way, to a certain old-fashioned uncle and aunt in Cornwall, who since
Jim's father's death had assumed the guardianship of that youth and his
brothers and sisters. This good uncle and aunt were horribly shocked
that one destined for so solemn a sphere in life as the ministry should
profane himself with athletic sports. The matter formed the theme for
many serious remonstrances, and long letters addressed to the depraved
Jim, who, on his part, maintained his side of the argument with
characteristic vehemence. He actually spent a whole day in the college
library, making out a list of all the athletic divines in history since
the creation of the world, the which he hurled triumphantly at his good
relations' heads as an unanswerable challenge. But, however
satisfactory it may have been to Jim, it failed to convince them, and
neither party being disposed to give in, the feud in this particular had
become chronic.

All this Jim contrived to impart to George (for lack of better
conversation) in the course of a short walk previous to the breakfast in
his rooms, to which he was leading his new acquaintance a captive.

"I suppose we shall have it all opened again now," he remarked, "for you
may have seen that my name is down to play in the football-match against
Sandhurs