emocracy that we have yet known,
in which the mere accidents of wealth, position, luxury, effeminacy,
physical degeneration, and over-civilized stimulation, are not
recognized. He was put into compulsory cricket, football, and rounders.
As an undersized boy he was subjected to that ingenious preparation for
future mastership by the pupillary state of servitude known, I think,
as 'fagging.' His physical inertia was stimulated and quickened, and his
intellectual precocity repressed, from time to time, by the exuberant
playfulness of his fellow-students, which occasionally took the form
of forced ablutions and corporal discomfort, and was called, I am
told, 'hazing.' It is but fair to state that our young friend had some
singular mental endowments, which, however, were promptly checked to
repress the vanity and presumption that would follow." The Rev. Mr.
Belcher paused, closed his eyes resignedly, and added, "Of course, you
know the rest."

"Indeed, I do not," I said anxiously.

"A most deplorable affair--indeed, a most shocking incident! It was
hushed up, I believe, on account of the position of his parents." He
glanced furtively around, and in a lower and more impressive voice said,
"I am not myself a believer in heredity, and I am not personally aware
that there was a MURDERER among the Sluysdael ancestry, but it seems
that this monstrous child, in some clandestine way, possessed himself of
a huge bowie-knife, sir, and on one of those occasions actually rushed
furiously at the larger boys--his innocent play-fellows--and absolutely
forced them to flee in fear of their lives. More than that, sir, a
LOADED REVOLVER was found in his desk, and he boldly and shamelessly
avowed his intention to eviscerate, or--to use his own revolting
language--'to cut the heart out' of the first one who again 'laid a
finger on him.'" He paused again, and, joining his two hands together
with the fingers pointing to the deck, breathed hard and said, "His
instantaneous withdrawal from the school was a matter of public
necessity. He was afterwards taken, in the charge of a private tutor, to
Europe, where, I trust, we shall NOT meet."

I could not resist saying cheerfully that, at least, Johnnyboy had for a
short time made it lively for the big boys.

The Rev. Mr. Belcher rose slowly, but painfully, said with a deeply
grieved expression, "I don't think that I entirely follow you," and
moved gently away.

The changes of youth are apt to be m