advise you to hang Flitwick. Oh, about that fellow Crofter!
Oh, it'll be all right. He's plenty else to think about."

It was poor comfort, but the best I could get, and our arrival at our
class room cut short further discussion on this most unfortunate
incident.

But it weighed on my mind all day. When class was over, I was summoned
by my fellow "Philosophers" to come out into the playing fields; I went
in fear and trembling, lest I should encounter Crofter. But he was
nowhere to be seen.

My companions were evidently hand and glove with most of the juniors in
the school, and I was favoured with a bewildering number of
introductions, not always of the most gratifying kind.

"What have you got there, Trim? A tame monkey?" asked one gorgeous
youth, whose cap bore the badge of Mr Selkirk's house.

"Not exactly," said Trimble; "haven't had time to tame him yet."

"What's his name?"

"Sarah. Allow me. Muskett--Sarah Jones; Jones--Silly Muskett. Now you
know one another."

"He's only fooling about my name," said I; "it's Thomas."

"Oh, is it? Delighted to see you, Sarah Thomas."

And before I could put him right he was off, and I was led away by my
rejoicing comrades.

"Look here, Trimble," said I, "it's time you knew my name by now."

Trimble laughed, as did the others. They all thought it was high time.

But everybody we met I was introduced to as Sarah.

"Awfully sorry," said Langrish, after the fourth or fifth offence.
"I've such a bad memory for names.--Well kicked, sir."

This exclamation was addressed, not to me, but to a senior who had just
appeared on the scene, and was kicking about the practice football with
a friend prior to a match which was evidently due.

It was a splendid kick, and the author of it was a splendid fellow--
brawny of limb and light of foot, with fair hair and clear blue eyes--as
one might picture one of the Norsemen of the story-books. You could see
by the way he moved, and the spirit he put even into this practice
kicking, that he was a sportsman every inch of him; and his good-natured
laugh, as he exchanged greetings with this and that arriving friend,
proclaimed him, even before you heard him speak, as good a gentleman as
he was an athlete.

"Redwood's in form to-day," said some one. "We'd better stop and see
the play."

"Is that Redwood, the captain?" inquired I, in an awestruck way, of
Warminster.

"Rather," was the reply, in a tone of pride which convi