als, which had put him in a very
good humour with the world.

"Me ancient skill has not deserted me," he said, "That's the cats. The
man who can wing a cat by moonlight can put a bullet where he likes on
a target. I didn't hit the bull every time, but that was to give the
other fellows a chance. My fatal modesty has always been a hindrance
to me in life, and I suppose it always will be. Well, well! And what
of the old homestead? Anything happened since I went away? Me old
father, is he well? Has the lost will been discovered, or is there a
mortgage on the family estates? By Jove, I could do with a stoup of
Malvoisie. I wonder if the moke's gone to bed yet. I'll go down and
look. A jug of water drawn from the well in the old courtyard where my
ancestors have played as children for centuries back would just about
save my life."

He left the dormitory, and Mike began to brood over his wrongs once
more.

Wyatt came back, brandishing a jug of water and a glass.

"Oh, for a beaker full of the warm south, full of the true, the
blushful Hippocrene! Have you ever tasted Hippocrene, young Jackson?
Rather like ginger-beer, with a dash of raspberry-vinegar. Very heady.
Failing that, water will do. A-ah!"

He put down the glass, and surveyed Mike, who had maintained a moody
silence throughout this speech.

"What's your trouble?" he asked. "For pains in the back try Ju-jar. If
it's a broken heart, Zam-buk's what you want. Who's been quarrelling
with you?"

"It's only that ass Firby-Smith."

"Again! I never saw such chaps as you two. Always at it. What was the
trouble this time? Call him a grinning ape again? Your passion for the
truth'll be getting you into trouble one of these days."

"He said I stuck on side."

"Why?"

"I don't know."

"I mean, did he buttonhole you on your way to school, and say,
'Jackson, a word in your ear. You stick on side.' Or did he lead up to
it in any way? Did he say, 'Talking of side, you stick it on.' What
had you been doing to him?"

"It was the house-fielding."

"But you can't stick on side at house-fielding. I defy any one to.
It's too early in the morning."

"I didn't turn up."

"What! Why?"

"Oh, I don't know."

"No, but, look here, really. Did you simply bunk it?"

"Yes."

Wyatt leaned on the end of Mike's bed, and, having observed its
occupant thoughtfully for a moment, proceeded to speak wisdom for the
good of his soul.

"I say, I don't want to jaw--I'm one of thos