table, and
began to rattle it away to its place outside the buttery-door. The
lower-passage boys carried off their small tables, aided by their
friends, while above all, standing on the great hall table, a knot of
untiring sons of harmony made night doleful by a prolonged performance
of "God save the King." His Majesty King William IV.[22] then reigned
over us, a monarch deservedly popular amongst the boys addicted to
melody, to whom he was chiefly known from the beginning of that
excellent, if slightly vulgar song in which they much delighted:--

"Come, neighbors all, both great and small,
Perform your duties here,
And loudly sing 'live Billy our King,'
For bating[23] the tax upon beer."

[21] #Jugs#: pitchers.

[22] #William IV.#: 1830 to 1837.

[23] #Bating#: lowering.

LAST LOYAL STRAINS.

Others of the more learned in songs also celebrated his praises in a
sort of ballad, which I take to have been written by some Irish
loyalists. I have forgotten all but the chorus, which ran:--

"God save our good King William, be his name forever blest,
He's the father of all his people, and the guardian of all the rest."

In truth we were loyal subjects in those days, in a rough way. I trust
that our successors make as much of her present majesty, and, having
regard to the greater refinement of the times, have adopted or written
other songs equally hearty, but more civilized, in her honor.

PRAYERS.

Then the quarter to ten struck, and the prayer-bell rang. The sixth
and fifth form boys ranged themselves in their school order along the
wall, on either side of the great fires, the middle fifth and
upper-school boys around the long table in the middle of the hall, and
the lower-school boys round the upper part of the second long table,
which ran down the side of the hall furthest from the fires. Here Tom
found himself at the bottom of all, in a state of mind and body not at
all fit for prayers, as he thought; and so tried hard to make himself
serious, but couldn't for the life of him do anything but repeat in
his head the choruses of some of the songs, and stare at all the boys
opposite, wondering at the brilliancy of their waistcoats, and
speculating what sort of fellows they were. The steps of the
head-porter are heard on the stairs, and a light gleams at the door.
"Hush!" from the fifth-form boys who stand there, and then in strides
the Doctor, cap on head, book in one hand, and gat