so the papers said, three years at least. The School
cheered the louder, because each boy knew that they might never see
that gallant face again.

Later in the afternoon a selection of Harrow songs was given in the
Speech-room. "Five Hundred Faces," as usual, was sung by a new boy,
who is answered, in chorus, by the whole School. How John recalled his
own feelings, less than a year ago, as he stood shivering upon the bank
of the river, funking the first plunge! And his uncle, now sitting
beside him, had said that he would soon enjoy himself amazingly--and so
he had! The new boy began the second verse. His voice, not a strong
one, quavered shrilly--

"A quarter to seven! There goes the bell!
The sleet is driving against the pane;
But woe to the sluggard who turns again
And sleeps, not wisely, but all too well!"

In reply to the weak, timid notes came the glad roar of the School--

"Yet the time may come, as the years go by,
When your heart will thrill
At the thought of the Hill,
And the pitiless bell, with its piercing cry!"

Ah, that pitiless bell! And yet because of it one wallowed in Sunday
and whole-holiday "frowsts." [6] John, you see, had the makings of a
philosopher. And now the Eleven were grunting "Willow the King." And
when the last echo of the chorus died away in the great room, Uncle
John whispered to his nephew that he had heard Harrow songs in every
corner of the earth, and that convincing proof of merit shone out of
the fact that their charm waxed rather than waned with the years; they
improved, like wine, with age.

Caesar's father came down with the Duke of Trent. The duke tipped John
magnificently and asked him to spend his exeat at Trent House, and to
witness the Eton and Harrow match at Lord's from the Trent coach. John
accepted gratefully enough; but his heart was sore because, just before
the row over that infernal word "inestimable," Caesar had asked John if
he would like to occupy an attic in Eaton Square. After the row
nothing more was said about the attic; but John would have preferred
bare boards in Eaton Square to a tapestried chamber in Park Lane.

Now, during the whole of this summer term there was much animated
discussion in regard to the rival claims of lines or spots upon the
white waistcoat worn by all self-respecting Harrovians at Lord's. Upon
this important subject John had betrayed scandalous indifference.
Accordingly, just before