crib, he was invariably turned, and he was
now particularly anxious to get one, because the time was nearly up.

There was a certain idle, good-natured boy, named Llewellyn, who had
"cribs" to every book they did, and who, with a pernicious _bonhommie,_
lent them promiscuously to the rest, all of whom were only too glad to
avail themselves of the help, except the few at the top of the form, who
found it a slovenly way of learning the lesson, which was sure to get
them into worse difficulties than an honest attempt to master the
meaning for themselves. Llewellyn sat at the farther end of the form in
front, so Barker scribbled in the fly-leaf of his book, "Please send us
your Homer crib," and got the book passed on to Llewellyn, who
immediately shoved his crib in Barker's direction. The only danger of
the transaction being noticed, was when the book was being handed from
one bench to another, and as Eric unluckily had an end seat, he had got
into trouble more than once.

On this occasion, just as Graham, the last boy on the form in front,
handed Eric the crib, Mr. Gordon happened to look up, and Eric, very
naturally anxious to screen another from trouble, popped the book under
his own Homer.

"Williams, what are you doing?"

"Nothing, Sir," said Eric, looking up innocently.

"Bring me that book under your Homer."

Eric blushed, hesitated--but at last, amid a dead silence, took up the
book. Mr. Gordon looked at it for a moment, let it fall on the ground,
and then, with an unnecessary affectation of disgust, took it up with
the tongs, and dropped it into the fire. There was a titter round
the room.

"Silence," thundered the master; "this is no matter for laughing. So,
sir, _this_ is the way you get up to the top of the form?"

"I wasn't using it, sir," said Eric.

"Not using it! Why, I saw you put it, open, under your Homer."

"It isn't mine, sir."

"Then whose is it?" Mr. Gordon looked at the fly leaf, but of course no
name was there; in those days it was dangerous to write one's name in a
translation.

Eric was silent.

"Under the circumstances, Williams, I must punish you," said Mr. Gordon.
"Of course I am _bound_ to believe you, but the circumstances are very
suspicious. You had no business with such a book at all. Hold out
your hand."

As yet, Eric had never been caned. It would have been easy for him in
this case to clear himself without mentioning names, but (very rightly)
he thought it unmanly to