ed with buns and chocolate, they would rush down the hill,
bathe, lie about on the grass, eat the buns, and chaff the kids who were
learning to swim.

"Long, long, in the misty hereafter
Shall echo, in ears far away,
The lilt of that innocent laughter,
The splash of the spray."

During the School matches they spent the afternoons on the Sixth Form
ground, carefully criticizing every stroke. The theory of the game lay
pat to the tongue, but in practice John was a shocking bungler. At his
small preparatory school in the New Forest, he had not been taught the
elementary principles of either racquets or cricket; but he had a good
eye, played a capital game of golf, rode and shot well for a small boy.
Fluff, although still delicate, gave promise of being a cricketer as
good, possibly, as his brothers, when he became stronger.

Upon Speech Day John's mother and uncle came down to Harrow, and you may
be sure that John escorted them in triumph to the Manor. Mrs. Verney has
since confessed that John's expression as she greeted him surprised and
distressed her. He looked quite unhappy. And the dear woman, thinking
that he must be in debt, seriously considered the propriety of tipping
him handsomely _in advance_. A moment later, as she slipped out of an
old and shabby dust-cloak, revealing the splendours of a dress fresh
from Paris, she divined from John's now radiant face what had troubled
him.

"John," she said, "you didn't really think that I was going to shame you
by wearing this dreadful cloak--did you?"

"I wasn't quite sure," John answered; then he burst out, "Mum, you look
simply lovely. All the fellows will take you for my sister."

And after the great function in Speech-room came the cheering. How
John's heart throbbed when the Head of the School, standing just outside
the door, proclaimed the illustrious name--

"Three cheers for Mr. John Verney."

And how the boys in the road below cheered, as the little man descended
the steps, hat in hand, bowing and blushing! Everybody knew that he was
on the eve of departure for further explorations in Manchuria. He would
be absent, so the papers said, three years at least. The School cheered
the louder, because each boy knew that they might never see that gallant
face again.

Later in the afternoon a selection of Harrow songs was given in the
Speech-room. "Five Hundred Faces," as usual, was sung by a new boy, who
is answered, in chorus, by the whole