tain.

Last year the Fifth tried to revive an old institution of their Form, in
the shape of a newspaper entitled the _Dominican_, directed chiefly
against the members of the Sixth. But somehow the undertaking did not
come off. The _Dominican_ was a very mild affair for one thing, and
there was nothing amusing about it for another thing, and there was a
good deal offensive about it for another thing; and for another thing,
the captain ordered it to be taken down off the wall on the first day of
its appearance, and announced that if he had any more of this nonsense
he would thrash one or two whose names he mentioned, and knock one or
two others out of the first eleven.

The _Dominican_ has not appeared since.

The big cricket match against the County I spoke of just now was a
famous event for more reasons than one. The chief reason, of course,
was the glorious victory of the old school; but another reason, almost
as notable, was the strange muster of old boys who turned up to witness
the exploits of the "youngsters."

There was Tom Braddy, for instance, smoking a big cigar the size of a
pencil-case, looking the picture of a snob. And with him a
vacant-looking young man with a great crop of whiskers on his puffy
cheeks. His name was Simon. The great idea of these two worthies
seemed to be to do the grand before their posterity. They were
convinced in their own minds that in this they were completely
successful, but no one else saw it.

Boys took a good deal more interest in a lame gentleman present, who was
cracking jokes with everybody, and hobbling about from one old crony to
another in a manner that was perfectly frisky. Every one seemed to like
Mr Pembury, and not a _few_ to be afraid of him. Perhaps that was
because he was the editor of a well-known paper of the day, and every
one likes to be on good terms with an editor.

Then there were a batch of fellows whose names we need hardly enumerate,
who had run over from Oxford, or Cambridge, or London for the day, and
who got into clusters between the innings and talked and laughed a great
deal over old times, when "Bully did this," and "Rick did that," and so
on. A nice lot of fellows they looked on the whole, and one or two, so
people said, were doing well.

But among these _the_ lions of the day were two friends who strolled
about arm-in-arm, and appeared far more at home in Saint Dominic's even
than the boys themselves. One of them was the big brot