IS LOOKING AFTER THE MONUMENTS? WAKE UP, OR
YOU'LL HAVE TO GO!"--_See "Times" Leader, Oct. 3rd, 1890._]

* * * * *

JOURNAL OF A ROLLING STONE.

SEVENTH ENTRY.

To my intense surprise--shared, as far as I can see, by all my friends
and relatives--I have managed to pass the "Bar Final"! I attribute
the portentous fact to the Examiners having discreetly avoided all
reference to the "Rule in SHELLEY's Case."

Find that the Students who are going to be "called within the Bar,"
have to be presented to the Benchers on one special evening, after
dinner, in Hall. Ceremony rather funereal, at _my_ Inn--but not the
same at all Inns. About twenty of us summoned one by one to the
High Table; several go up before me, and as there is a big screen I
can't see what happens to them. Only--most remarkable circumstance
this--_not one of them comes back_! Have the Benchers decided to
sternly limit the numbers of the Profession? Perhaps they are "putting
in an execution." Just thinking of escape, when my name called
out. March up to Table, determined not to perish without a spirited
resistance.

To complete the idea of its being an Execution, here is the Chaplain!
Will he say a "few last words" to the culprit--myself--prior to my
being pinioned?

As matter of fact, Bencher at head of Table (portly old gentleman, who
looks as if he might be described as a "bottle-a-day-of-port-ly" old
gentleman) shakes hands, coldly, and that's all. Not even a Queen's
Shilling given me, as I am conducted off to another table close by.

Mystery of disappearance of other candidates explained. Here they
are--all at this table--"all silent, and all called"! It seems that
this is the Barristers' part of the Hall, other the Students'.

Ceremony not over yet. After dinner we are invited, all twenty,
to dessert and wine with the Benchers--or rather, at the Benchers'
expense, because we don't really see and chat with these great men,
only a single representative, who presides at table in a long bare
room downstairs, resembling a cellar. Benchers' own Common-room above.
Why don't they invite us up there? Bencher, who has come down to
preside over this entertainment, has a rather forbidding air about
him. Seems to be thinking--"I don't care much for this sort of
function. Stupid old custom. But must keep it up, I suppose, for good
of Inn; and Benchers (hang them!) have deputed _me_ to take head of
the table to-night--probably