window-pane; pigeons flapped from pinnacle to
pinnacle of the chapel; sparrows cheeped on a persistent note; pens
scratched paper; Mr. Kirkham turned a Blue Book's page at regular
intervals.

_Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed_
_Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu;_
_And, happy melodist, unwearied_
_For ever piping songs for ever new._

Thus for him would the tranced scene for ever survive.

The History Sixth were for the purposes of cricket linked to the
Classical Lower Sixth, but Michael did not play that term. Instead, a
strayed reveller, he would move from game to game of the Junior School,
hearing the shrill encouragement and pondering the rose-red agility of a
Classical lower form, in triumph over minor Moderns. Michael was
continually trying to perceive successors to himself and Alan, and he
would often enter into shy colloquy with the juniors, who were awed by
his solemn smile, and shuffled uneasily from leg to leg.

Two boys whom Michael finally determined should stand as types of Alan
and him gradually emerged from the white throng of Lower School cricket.
One of them was indeed very like Alan, and had the same freckled smile.
With this pair Michael became intimate, as one becomes intimate with two
puppies. He would pet and scold them, encourage them to be successful in
their sport, and rebuke them for failure. They perhaps found him
entertaining, and were certainly proud to be seen in conversation with
him, for though Michael himself was not an athletic hero, he was the
companion of heroes, and round him clung the shining mirage of their
immortality.

Then one day, unknown to Michael, these two boys became involved in a
scandal; the inquisition of a great public school pinned them down
desperately struggling, miserably afraid; the rumour of their expulsion
went callously round the gossiping ranks of their fellows. Michael was
informed of their disgrace by dark-eyed Mallock whose father wrote
columnar letters to The Times. Michael said bitter things to the
complacent Mallock and offered with serious want of dignity for a member
of the leisurely and cultivated History Sixth, to punch Mallock's damned
head.

Mallock said sneeringly that he supposed Michael sympathized with the
little beasts. Michael replied that he merely sympathized with them
because he was profoundly sure that it was a pack of lies.

"You'd better go and tell the Old Man that, because they say he's g