the Spread Eagle; the wheelers in a spanking trot,
and leaders cantering, in a style which would not have disgraced
"Cherry Bob," "ramping, stamping, tearing swearing Billy Harwood," or
any other of the old coaching heroes.

Tom's heart beat quick as he passed the great school field or close,
with its noble elms, in which several games at football were going on,
and tried to take in at once the long line of grey buildings, beginning
with the chapel, and ending with the School-house, the residence of the
head-master, where the great flag was lazily waving from the highest
round tower. And he began already to be proud of being a Rugby boy, as
he passed the school-gates, with the oriel-window above, and saw the
boys standing there, looking as if the town belonged to them, and
nodding in a familiar manner to the coachman, as if any one of them
would be quite equal to getting on the box and working the team down
street as well as he.

One of the young heroes, however, ran out from the rest, and scrambled
up behind; where, having righted himself and nodded to the guard with
"How do, Jem?" he turned short round to Tom, and, after looking him over
for a minute, began--

"I say, you fellow, is your name Brown?"

"Yes," said Tom, in considerable astonishment; glad however to have
lighted on some one already who seemed to know him.

"Ah, I thought so; you know my old aunt, Miss East; she lives somewhere
down your way in Berkshire. She wrote to me that you were coming to-day,
and asked me to give you a lift."

Tom was somewhat inclined to resent the patronizing air of his new
friend--a boy of just about his own height and age, but gifted with the
most transcendent coolness and assurance, which Tom felt to be
aggravating and hard to bear, but couldn't for the life of him help
admiring and envying--especially when young my lord begins hectoring two
or three long loafing fellows, half-porter, half stableman, with a
strong touch of the blackguard, and in the end arranges with one of
them, nicknamed Cooey, to carry Tom's luggage up to the School-house for
sixpence.

"And heark'ee, Cooey, it must be up in ten minutes, or no more jobs from
me. Come along, Brown." And away swaggers the young potentate, with his
hands in his pockets, and Tom at his side.

"All right, sir," says Cooey, touching his hat, with a leer and a wink
at his companions.

"Hullo though," says East, pulling up, and taking another look at Tom,
"this'll neve