in the _Caesar_ at the same time, but
scarcely had I done so when the awful voice of the master spoke:

"Stand up!" All dictionaries and notes had now to be put away; all
except the Latin books.

I had contrived _to get_ off the first two lines, and only hoped the
master might pitch on me to begin. And he did pitch on me.

"Charles Smith," I heard him say, and my heart jumped to my mouth,
"stand forward and begin at `_jamque Caesar_.'"

"Please, sir, we begin at `_His et aliis_,'" I faltered.

"You begin where I tell you, sir," sternly replied he.

A dead silence fell over the class, waiting for me to begin. I was in
despair. Oh, if only I had not dawdled! I would give all my pocket-
money for this term to know a line of that horrid _Caesar_.

"Come, sir, be quick," said the master.

Then I fetched a sigh very like a sob, and began--

"_Que_, and--" I heard the master's foot scrape ominously on the floor.

"_Que_, and--" I repeated.

"_And_ what, sir?" thundered the master, rising in his seat and leaning
across his desk towards me. It was awful. I was never more miserable
in my life.

"_Caesar_, Caesar," I stammered. Here at least was a word I could
translate, so I repeated it--"_Que_, and--_Caesar_, Caesar."

A dead silence, scarcely broken by a titter from the back desks.

"_Jam_," I chokingly articulated, and there stuck.

"Well, sir, and what does _jam_ mean?" inquired the voice, in a tone of
suppressed wrath.

"_Jam_"--again I stuck.

Another dead silence.

"_Que_, and--_Caesar_, Caesar; _jam_"--It was no use; the only jam I
knew of I was certain would not do in this case, so I began again in
despair; "_Que_, and--_Caesar_, Caesar; _jam_--_jam_--_jam_."

The master shut his book, and I knew the storm had burst.

"Smith, have you prepared this lesson?"

"No, sir," I replied, relieved to be able to answer any questions,
however awful.

"Why not, sir?"

Ah! that I could not answer--not to myself, still less to him. So I was
silent.

"Come to me after school," he said. "The next boy come forward."

After school I went to him, and he escorted me to the doctor. No
criminal at the Old Bailey trembled as I did at that interview. I can't
remember what was said to me. I know I wildly confessed my sins--my
"cribbing," my wasting of time--and promised to abjure them one and all.

The doctor was solemn and grave, and said a great deal to me that I was
too overawed to understand or