nd rose as usual to greet his chief; the
boys also, as by custom bound, rose in their places. "Good morning, Mr
Rastle," said the Doctor. "Are your boys all here?"

"Yes, sir, we have just called over."

"Ah! And what class comes on first?"

"English literature, sir."

"Well, Mr Rastle, I will take the class this morning, please--instead
of you."

A groan of horror passed through the ranks of the unhappy Guinea-pigs
and Tadpoles at these words. Bramble looked wildly about him, if haply
he might escape by a window or lie hid in a desk; while Stephen, Paul,
Padger, and the other ringleaders, gave themselves up for lost, and
mentally bade farewell to joy for ever.

"What have the boys been reading?" inquired Dr Senior of Mr Rastle.

"Grey's _Elegy_, sir. We have just got through it."

"Oh! Grey's _Elegy_!" said the Doctor; and then, as if forgetting where
he was, he began repeating to himself,--

"The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,
The lowing herds wind slowly o'er the lea."

"The first boy,--what can you tell me about the curfew?" The first boy
was well up in the curfew, and rattled off a "full, true, and particular
account" of that fine old English institution, much to everybody's
satisfaction. The Doctor went on repeating two or three verses till he
came to the line,--

"The rude Forefathers of the hamlet sleep."

"What does that line mean?" he asked of a boy on the second desk.

The boy scarcely knew what it meant, but the boy below him did, and was
quite eager for the question to be passed on. It was passed on, and the
genius answered promptly, "Four old men."

"Four rude old men," shouted the next, seeing a chance.

"Four rude old men who used to sleep in church," cried another, ready to
cap all the rest.

The Doctor passed the question on no further; but gravely explained the
meaning of the line, and then proceeded with his repetition in rather a
sadder voice.

Now and again he stopped short and demanded an explanation of some
obscure phrase, the answers to which were now correct, now hazy, now
brilliantly original. On the whole it was not satisfactory; and when
for a change the Doctor gave up reciting, and made the boys read, the
effect was still worse. One boy, quite a master of elocution, spoilt
the whole beauty of the lines,--

"Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainful smile
The short and simple annals of the Poor,--"

by reading "animals" instead of "annals"; whi