had looked forward to prize-day with something like horror,
but now that that danger was passed, Oliver recovered his old unconcern,
and Stephen relapsed once more into his attitude of terror-in-chief to
his big brother, snapping and snarling at any one who dared so much as
to mention the name of Greenfield senior in his hearing.

Well, the day came at last, fully as grand an occasion as any one
expected. The noble Earl turned up half an hour early, and spent the
interval in patting the greasy heads of all the Guinea-pigs and Tadpoles
he came across. The mothers and sisters swarmed up and down the
staircases and in and out the studies, escorted proudly by their dear
Johnnys and precious Bobs. The red robes of the Doctor flashed down the
corridor, and in the lecture-theatre there was such a rustling of silk
gowns and waving of feather bonnets, and gleaming of white collars and
sparkling patent-leather boots, as must have fairly astonished that
sombre place. Every one was there--every fellow nearly had got a mother
or somebody to show off to. Even Bramble turned up with a magnificent
grandmother, greatly to the envy of friend and foe, and would have been
the proudest Tadpole alive if the dear good old lady had not insisted on
taking her descendant's _hand_ instead of his arm, and trotting him
about instead of letting him trot her. Oliver and Stephen alone had no
kith and kin to see them on this proud day.

In due time the lecture-theatre filled up, crowded from floor to
ceiling. The noble Earl walked in amid terrific cheers and took his
seat. The Doctor walked in after him, amid cheers almost as terrific,
and after him the ordinary procession of governors, masters, and
examiners; and when they were all seated prize-day had begun.

For up steps Mr Raleigh, the captain of the school, on to the raised
dais, whence, after bowing profoundly to the noble Earl and everybody,
he delivers a neat speech in honour of a good old soul who lived three
or four centuries ago, and left behind him the parcel of ground on which
Saint Dominic's now stands, and a hatful of money besides, to found the
school. Raleigh having said his say (and how proud the smallest boys
are of the captain's whiskers as they listen!), up steps Wren and
commences a similar harangue in Greek. The small boys, of course, cheer
this even more than the English. Then up gets Mr Winter and spins off
a Latin speech, but this does not go down so well, for the