ernly reminded him of the excellent works that we had read, and
forbade it.

In a very little while (for, as I expected, I got my fellowship) the
boy became the favourite of the whole College--where, all orders and
regulations to the contrary notwithstanding, he was continually in
and out--a sort of chartered libertine, in whose favour all rules were
relaxed. The offerings made at his shrine were simply without number,
and I had serious difference of opinion with one old resident Fellow,
now long dead, who was usually supposed to be the crustiest man in the
University, and to abhor the sight of a child. And yet I discovered,
when a frequently recurring fit of sickness had forced Job to keep a
strict look-out, that this unprincipled old man was in the habit of
enticing the boy to his rooms and there feeding him upon unlimited
quantities of brandy-balls, and making him promise to say nothing about
it. Job told him that he ought to be ashamed of himself, "at his age,
too, when he might have been a grandfather if he had done what was
right," by which Job understood had got married, and thence arose the
row.

But I have no space to dwell upon those delightful years, around which
memory still fondly hovers. One by one they went by, and as they passed
we two grew dearer and yet more dear to each other. Few sons have
been loved as I love Leo, and few fathers know the deep and continuous
affection that Leo bears to me.

The child grew into the boy, and the boy into the young man, while one
by one the remorseless years flew by, and as he grew and increased so
did his beauty and the beauty of his mind grow with him. When he was
about fifteen they used to call him Beauty about the College, and me
they nicknamed the Beast. Beauty and the Beast was what they called us
when we went out walking together, as we used to do every day. Once Leo
attacked a great strapping butcher's man, twice his size, because he
sang it out after us, and thrashed him, too--thrashed him fairly. I
walked on and pretended not to see, till the combat got too exciting,
when I turned round and cheered him on to victory. It was the chaff of
the College at the time, but I could not help it. Then when he was a
little older the undergraduates found fresh names for us. They called me
Charon, and Leo the Greek god! I will pass over my own appellation with
the humble remark that I was never handsome, and did not grow more so as
I grew older. As for his, there was no