willing to confer upon you, not only the ordinary M.A. degree, but a
Doctorate of Science or Letters!

"Then," continued the Tutor, "as to recreations; _neque semper arcum
tendit Apollo_--I beg your pardon, I mean to say that you cannot always
be studying the domestic habits of the hippopotamus under a microscope.
Sports and games you will find plentiful and interesting. There is
head-hunting, for instance--"

"Hunting the head of the college, do you mean, Professor?" asked the
American.

"Certainly not," replied the Don, with dignity. "That would not, under
any circumstances, be permitted. If it were the Dean, now--but, oh no,
certainly not the Head. What I refer to is the pursuit and collection of
decapitated human heads, belonging generally to personal enemies of the
collector; it is a sport common in Borneo, and among other interesting,
if primitive, nationalities. This pastime is, I understand, a favourite
one with some students of the college. It is practised, I need hardly
say, under the very strictest supervision; there must be a certificate
signed by the British Resident, and a special written recommendation from
the Director of the Craniological Department of the Museum. Under such
restriction abuse is, of course, impossible. Then, again, there is golf;
and it is hardly necessary to remind you that the Sahara provides perhaps
the finest natural golf links in the world."

"Well, Professor," said the American, "I guess I will start. But how are
we going to get right there, now? On the cars?"

"By the Cape to Cairo railway, when it is open," the Tutor answered.
"There will be a branch line. At present, the main line is, as you are
aware, incomplete, and the branch is--well, in course of construction.
Passengers are conveyed by motor. Or, if not by motor, by ox-waggon;
trekking by the latter method is, I believe, the safer way; both,
however, are, I understand, most commodious. I may explain to you that
the present is a particularly auspicious occasion for your journey; you
will travel in the company of the new Junior Dean, whose society, I am
sure, you will find delightful. His predecessor, a personal friend of my
own, succumbed, I grieve to say, a few months ago--owing to the alleged
inadequate supply of beef-steaks at a 'Torpid' breakfast. . . . Painful,
but apparently inevitable. I need hardly say, the perpetrators of this
insult have been rusticated for a whole term."

"Is the Junior Dea