e to Jack's efforts than mine, had changed
very much, but in setting our minds absolutely on one thing for two
years we had missed a lot, even if we had been successful in what we
wanted to do. Our last year, however, made up for everything, and when
we came back for the summer term examinations had lost their horrors,
and the only thing I regretted was that in eight short weeks my time at
Oxford would be over.

The Bradder, who watched over me like a prospective brother-in-law,
encouraged me to think that I should not do very badly in the
"schools," but I think he was rather agitated when Henderson chose me
to play for the 'Varsity against the Gentlemen of England, and in a
very bad light I got more wickets than I ever expected to get in a
first-class match. That performance gave me a good start in the
'Varsity XI., and The Bradder was desperately afraid that I should stop
reading altogether. But Fred and Jack were both hard at work, and
except on one evening a week Henderson had to go into a separate room
when he wanted to entertain his numerous friends. Jack rowed in our
Eight, and they went up to fourth. They would have been second if they
had been lucky, but as it was they intended to go to Henley.

I think that I was fortunate in having to struggle for my blue during
my last term, for this gave me so much to think about that I escaped
some of the feelings which Fred had about leaving Oxford. I felt that
I was by no means ready to go, but I was also desperately eager to get
into the XI., and that I knew would not be decided until the term was
over. One leaves Oxford slowly, if I may express it so; you have to
come back for a _viva voce_, and then for your degree; there is no
abrupt break as there is at school, and the fact that I was playing for
the 'Varsity after the term was over, helped me more than it did Fred,
who had played in the XI. for three years. Nearly every Sunday
afternoon during May and June, Fred and I quite solemnly went out for a
walk together, and we nearly always found ourselves by the river. I
believe this was because we were never tired of looking at Corpus and
Merton from the Christchurch meadows. There is no view so keenly
rooted in my memory as this, nor one which I am so glad to look upon
again. I don't care in the least whether it is the most beautiful in
Oxford or not, for it means something to me, and you can ask no more
from a view than that. I can never look at it without