ended. "Every Eton face I see now I want to hit." Then he
added, with a smile and a chuckle, "I say, there's going to be a
ruction in front of the Pavvy. Come on."

A minute later John was in the thick of a very pretty scrimmage between
the Hill and the Plain. Hats were bashed in; cornflowers torn from
buttonholes; pale-blue tassels were captured; umbrellas broken.
Finally, the police interfered.

"Short, but very, very sweet," said Caesar, panting.

John and he were lamentable objects for fond parents to behold, but the
sense of depression had vanished. And then Caesar said suddenly--

"By Jove! I _have_ got a bit of news. It quite takes the sting out of
this draw."

"What's happened?"

"My governor has been talking with Warde. Rutford is leaving Harrow."

John gasped. "That is ripping."

"Isn't it? But who do you think is coming to us? Why, Warde himself.
He was at the Manor when it was _the_ house, and the governor says that
Warde will make it _the_ house again. He's got his work cut out for
him--eh?"

"You bet your life," said John.

[1] "Duck-Puddle," the school bathing-place.

[2] A "Dringer" is composed of the following ingredients: a layer of
strawberries is secreted in sugar and cream at the bottom of a clean
jam-pot; and this receives a decent covering of strawberry ice, which
brings the surface of the dringer and the top edge of the jam-pot into
the same plane. The whole may be bought for sixpence. (P. C. T.,
1905.)

[3] A "Bluer" is the blue-flannel jacket worn in the playing fields.
It must be worn buttoned by boys who have been less than three years in
the school.

[4] Small boys are not advised to copy John's tactics. The victory is
not always to the weak.

[5] The house-cap, only worn by members of the House Cricket Eleven.

[6] Lying in bed in the morning when there is no First School is a
"frowst." By a subtle law of association, an armchair is also a
"frowst."

CHAPTER VI

A REVELATION

"Forty years on, when afar and asunder
Parted are those who are singing to-day,
When you look back, and forgetfully wonder
What you were like in your work and your play;
Then, it may be, there will often come o'er you
Glimpses of notes like the catch of a song,--
Visions of boyhood shall float them before you,
Echoes of dreamland shall bear them along."

Before the end of the summer term, both Desmond and Scaife received
their "caps" and a