emained there
ever since I changed my winter clothes in the spring. Now at that time
we were reduced to anchovy paste for breakfast, and our bare rations for
tea. Money was spent, tick was scarce, stores were exhausted. Faithful
to a friendship which has all things in common. I went out to Dell's
and bought a pot of apricot jam for tea, the time for which had arrived.
As ill-luck would have it, both you fellows were detained at something
or another--French, I rather think. I had to go to my tutor myself at
seven, so I could not wait, and began my tea alone. Well, the jam was
good, very good, hanged good; I never ate such jam! Had I had quite a
third of it? Not quite, perhaps; I gave myself the benefit of the
doubt. But, then, the gap looked awful. Happy thought! I would turn
it out into a saucer, and you might take it for a sixpenny pot. After
all, not expecting any, you would be pleased with that. But it looked
rather more than a sixpenny pot, so I had a bit more to reduce. And
then--you would not come, and you knew nothing about it. Why make two
bites of a cherry? I finished it, threw the pot out of window, and held
my tongue. But oh! Next day, when Kavanagh received his weekly
allowance, and laid it out in treacle and sprats for the public good, I
did indeed feel guilty."

"But you ate the sprats and treacle all the same, I expect."

"I did. I would not shirk my punishment, and flinch from the coals of
fire which were heaped on my head. I even enjoyed them. But my
conscience has been very sore, and feels better now than it has done for
a long time."

"You have not got absolution yet," said Forsyth.

"Not by long chalks," cried Kavanagh. "Jam! And apricot of all jams.
If you really want to wipe out the crime you must make restitution."

"Gladly; but would not that be difficult?"

"Not at all; you can do it in kind. At compound interest three pots
will clear you, I should say; or, if it don't run to that, say two."

"Two will do," echoed Forsyth. "Who's that at the door?"

"It's me," said a youth--dressed in a chocolate coat with brass
buttons--entering the room.

"Oh, happy Josiah!" exclaimed Kavanagh; "careless of rules, and allowing
your nominative and accusative cases to wander about at their own sweet
will; what pangs would be yours at mid-day to-morrow if you were a
scholar instead of a page, and said `_Hominem sum_,' or uttered any
other equivalent to your late remark! Shades