out again, and before long landed, as
his custom was, at Drysdale's door.

On entering the room he found Drysdale and Blake alone together,
the former looking more serious than Tom had ever seen him
before. As for Blake, the restless, haggard expression sat more
heavily than ever on his face, sadly marring its beauty. It was
clear that they changed the subject of their talk abruptly on his
entrance; so Tom looked anywhere except straight before him as he
was greeting Blake. He really felt very sorry for him at the
moment. However, in another five minutes, he was in fits of
laughter over Blake's description of the conversation between
himself and the coachman who had driven the Glo'ster day-mail by
which he had come up; in which conversation, nevertheless, when
Tom came to think it over, and try to repeat it afterwards, the
most facetious parts seemed to be the "sez he's" and the "sez
I's" with which Jehu larded his stories; so he gave up the
attempt, wondering what he could have found in it to laugh at.

"By the way, Blake," said Drysdale, "how about our excursion into
Berkshire masquerading this term? Are you game?"

"Not exactly," said Blake; "I really must make the most of such
time as I have left, if I'm going into the schools this term."

"If there's one thing which spoils Oxford it is those schools,"
said Drysdale; "they get in the way of everything. I ought to be
going up for smalls myself next term, and I haven't opened a book
yet, and don't mean to do so. Follow a good example, old fellow,
you're cock-sure of your first, every-body knows."

"I wish everybody would back his opinion, and give me a shade of
odds. Why, I have scarcely thought of my history."

"Why the d---l should they make such a fuss about history? One
knows perfectly well that those old black-guard heathens were no
better than they should be; and what good it can do to lumber
one's head with who their grandmothers were, and what they ate,
and when and where and why they had their stupid brains knocked
out, I can't see for the life of me."

"Excellently well put. Where did you pick up such sound views,
Drysdale? But you're not examiner yet; and, on the whole, I must
rub up my history somehow. I wish I knew how to do it."

"Can't you put on a coach?" said Drysdale.

"I have one on, but history is my weak point, said Blake.

"I think I can help you," said Tom. "I've just been hearing a
lecture in Roman history, and one that won't be s