ocoon. To their lamentations he responded by thrusting his
hands deep down into his pockets and whistling 'Little Dolly Daydreams,
pride of Idaho.' The summer term would be over in a few days, and
Michael was sorry to say good-bye to Alan, who was going to Norway with
his father and mother and would therefore not be available for the whole
of the holidays. Indeed, he was leaving two days before School actually
broke up. Michael was wretched without Alan and brooded over the
miseries of life that so soon transcended the joys. On the last day of
term, he was seized with an impulse to say good-bye to Mr. Caryll, an
impulse which he could not understand and was inclined to deplore.
However, it was too strong for his conventions, and he loitered behind
in the confusion of merry departures.

"Good-bye, sir," he said shyly.

Mr. Caryll took off two pairs of spectacles and examined Michael through
the remaining pair, rasping out the familiar cough as he did so.

"Now, you great booby, what do you want?" he asked.

"Good-bye, sir," Michael said, more loudly.

"Oh, good-bye," said Mr. Caryll. "You've been a very idle
boy"--cough--cough--"and I"--cough--cough--"I don't think I ever knew
such an idle boy before."

"I've had a ripping time in your class, sir," said Michael.

"What do you mean?"--cough--cough--"are you trying to be impudent?"
exclaimed Mr. Caryll, hastily putting on a second pair of spectacles to
cope with the situation.

"No, sir. I've enjoyed being in your class. I'm sorry I was so low down
in the list. Good-bye, sir."

Mr. Caryll seemed to realize at last that Michael was being sincerely
complimentary, so he took off all the pairs of spectacles and beamed at
him with an expression of the most profound benignity.

"Oh, well"--cough--cough--"we can't all be top"--cough--cough--"but it's
a pity you should be so very low down"--cough--cough--"you're a Scholar
too, which makes it much worse. Never mind. Good boy at
heart"--cough--cough--"better luck in your next form"--cough--cough.
"Hope you'll enjoy yourself on your holidays."

"Good-bye, sir. Thanks awfully," said Michael. He turned away from the
well-loved class-room of old Caryll that still echoed with the laughter
of the Upper Fourth A.

"And don't work too hard"--cough--cough, was Mr. Caryll's last joke.

In the corridor Michael caught up the lantern-jawed boy who had
prophesied this year's pleasure at the beginning of last autumn.

"Just been s