the victory had gone,
and shouts of triumph arose everywhere, with waving of hats and clatter
of sticks. Meanwhile, in the centre the two parties fought round the
placard, and the commotion began to cover a wider area, as either side
was reinforced by fresh supporters. One gigantic Liberal seized the
board, and held it aloft for a moment, so that it could be seen in its
entirety by the whole multitude:

LIBERAL MAJORITY,

241.

But his triumph was short-lived. A stick descended upon his head, his
heels were tripped up, and he and his placard rolled upon the ground
together. The victors succeeded, however, in forcing their way to the
extreme end of the quadrangle, where, as every Edinburgh man knows, the
full-length statue of Sir David Brewster looks down upon the classic
ground which he loved so well. An audacious Radical swarmed up upon the
pedestal and balanced the obnoxious notice on the marble arms of the
professor. Thus converted into a political partisan, the revered
inventor of the kaleidoscope became the centre of a furious struggle,
the vanquished politicians making the most desperate efforts to destroy
the symbol of their opponents' victory, while the others offered an
equally vigorous resistance to their attacks. The struggle was still
proceeding when Dimsdale removed his father, for it was impossible to
say what form the riot might assume.

"What Goths! what barbarians!" cried the little doctor, as they walked
down the Bridges. "And this is my dream of refined quiet and studious
repose!"

"They are not always like that, sir," said his son apologetically.
"They were certainly a little jolly to-day."

"A little jolly!" cried the doctor. "You rogue, Tom. I believe if I
had not been there you would have been their ringleader."

He glanced from one to the other, and it was so evident from the
expression of their faces that he had just hit the mark, that he burst
into a great guffaw of laughter, in which, after a moment's hesitation,
his two young companions heartily joined.

CHAPTER VII.

ENGLAND VERSUS SCOTLAND.

The rectorial election had come and had gone, but another great event
had taken its place. It was the day of the England and Scotland Rugby
match.

Better weather could not have been desired. The morning had been hazy,
but as the sun shone out the fog had gradually risen, until now there
remained but a suspic