his back to the mantelpiece, "and listen to me. It's a great day,
this--a day of triumph. Ray has won the innings victory for the
School, and Doe--"

Doe pricked up his ears.

"It's just out--Doe has won the Horace Prize."

At this news there were great congratulations of the poet, who went
red with pleasure.

"When you've all finished," said Radley, "I'll read the Prize Poem."

So Radley began faithfully from a manuscript:

"Horace, Odes I, 9. _Vides ut Alta Stet._
"White is the mountain, fleeced in snows,
And the pale trees depress their weighted boughs--"

"Oh, spare us!" interrupted Chappy.

"Not a bit," said Radley. "Hark to this:

"Bring out the mellow wine, the best,
The sweet convivial wine, and test
Its four-year-old maturity:
To Jove commit the rest,
Nor question his divine intents
For, when he stays the battling elements,
The wind shall brood o'er prostrate seas
And fail to move the ash's crest
Or stir the stilly cypress trees.
Be no forecaster of the dawn;
Deem it an asset, and be gay--
Come, merge to-morrow's misty morn
In the resplendence of to-day.

"Youth is the day the field to scour,
The time of conquests won,
The pause, wherein to hark at trysting hour
To the whispered word
That is gently heard
In the wake of the passing sun--"

"What's it all about?" grumbled Chappy. "And I'm sure 'morn' doesn't
rhyme with 'dawn.'" at which Doe went white with pain, and numbered
the doctor among the Philistines.

"It's a very distinguished attempt to catch the spirit of Horace's
fine ode," answered Radley, and Doe turned red again with pleasure,
forgiving Radley all the unkindness he had ever perpetrated, and
enrolling him among the Elect.

Now Pennybet liked to be the centre of attraction at friendly little
gatherings like this, and had little inclination to sit and listen
to people praising those who recently had been nothing but his
satellites. So he lit a cigarette and said:

"It's entirely the result of my training that these young people
have turned out so well."

"Pennybet," explained Radley, "you're a purblind egotist and will
come to a bad end."

"Oh, I don't think so, sir," said Penny, crossing his legs that he
might