y, Eustace went
to Harrow. He was there five years--always one of those boys a little
out at wrists and ankles, who may be seen slouching, solitary, along
the pavement to their own haunts, rather dusty, and with one shoulder
slightly raised above the other, from the habit of carrying something
beneath one arm. Saved from being thought a 'smug,' by his title, his
lack of any conspicuous scholastic ability, his obvious independence of
what was thought of him, and a sarcastic tongue, which no one was
eager to encounter, he remained the ugly duckling who refused to paddle
properly in the green ponds of Public School tradition. He played games
so badly that in sheer self-defence his fellows permitted him to play
without them. Of 'fives' they made an exception, for in this he attained
much proficiency, owing to a certain windmill-like quality of limb. He
was noted too for daring chemical experiments, of which he usually had
one or two brewing, surreptitiously at first, and afterwards by special
permission of his house-master, on the principle that if a room must
smell, it had better smell openly. He made few friendships, but these
were lasting.

His Latin was so poor, and his Greek verse so vile, that all had
been surprised when towards the finish of his career he showed a very
considerable power of writing and speaking his own language. He left
school without a pang. But when in the train he saw the old Hill and
the old spire on the top of it fading away from him, a lump rose in
his throat, he swallowed violently two or three times, and, thrusting
himself far back into the carriage corner, appeared to sleep.

At Oxford, he was happier, but still comparatively lonely; remaining, so
long as custom permitted, in lodgings outside his College, and clinging
thereafter to remote, panelled rooms high up, overlooking the gardens
and a portion of the city wall. It was at Oxford that he first developed
that passion for self-discipline which afterwards distinguished him.
He took up rowing; and, though thoroughly unsuited by nature to this
pastime, secured himself a place in his College 'torpid.' At the end of
a race he was usually supported from his stretcher in a state of
extreme extenuation, due to having pulled the last quarter of the course
entirely with his spirit. The same craving for self-discipline guided
him in the choice of Schools; he went out in 'Greats,' for which, owing
to his indifferent mastery of Greek and Latin, he wa