dry-rot. The mischief had begun
not last term or the term before. Years ago it had begun to eat into
the place, and every year it grew more incurable. Occasional efforts
had been made to patch things up. A boy had been now and then expelled.
A master had now and then "resigned." An old rule had now and then
been enforced. A new rule was now and then instituted. But you can't
patch up a dry-rot, and Bolsover crumbled more and more the oftener it
was touched.

Years ago it had dropped out of the race with the other public-schools.
Its name had disappeared from the pass list of the University and Civil
Service candidates. Scarcely a human being knew the name of its head-
master; and no assistant-master was ever known to make Bolsover a
stepping-stone to pedagogic promotion. The athletic world knew nothing
of a Bolsover Eleven or Fifteen; and, worse still, no Bolsover boy was
ever found who was proud either of his school or of himself.

Somebody asks, why, if the place was in such a bad way, did parents
continue to send their boys there, when they had all the public-schools
in England to choose from? To that the answer is very simple. Bolsover
was cheap--horribly cheap!

"A high class public-school education," to quote the words of the
prospectus, "with generous board and lodging, in a beautiful midland
county, in a noble building with every modern advantage; gymnasium,
cricket-field, and a full staff of professors and masters," for
something under forty pounds a year, was a chance not to be snuffed at
by an economical parent or guardian. And when to these attractions was
promised "a strict attention to morals, and a supervision of wardrobes
by an experienced matron," even the hearts of mothers went out towards
the place.

After all, argues many an easy-going parent, a public-school education
is a public-school education, whether dear Benjamin gets it at Eton, or
Shrewsbury, or Bolsover. We cannot afford Eton or Shrewsbury, but we
will make a pinch and send him to Bolsover, which sounds almost as good
and may even be better.

So to Bolsover dear Benjamin goes, and becomes a public-school boy. In
that "noble building" he does pretty much as he likes, and eats very
much what he can. The "full staff of professors and masters" interfere
very little with his liberty, and the "attention to morals" is never
inconveniently obtruded. He goes home pale for the holidays and comes
back paler each term. He scuffl