"'Latin poor. Greek, very poor.'"

"We were doing Thucydides, Book Two, last term--all speeches and
doubtful readings, and cruxes and things--beastly hard! Everybody
says so."

"Here are Mr. Appleby's remarks: 'The boy has genuine ability, which he
declines to use in the smallest degree.'"

Mike moaned a moan of righteous indignation.

"'An abnormal proficiency at games has apparently destroyed all desire
in him to realize the more serious issues of life.' There is more to the
same effect."

Mr. Appleby was a master with very definite ideas as to what constituted
a public-school master's duties. As a man he was distinctly pro-Mike. He
understood cricket, and some of Mike's strokes on the off gave him
thrills of pure aesthetic joy; but as a master he always made it his
habit to regard the manners and customs of the boys in his form with an
unbiased eye, and to an unbiased eye Mike in a form room was about as
near the extreme edge as a boy could be, and Mr. Appleby said as much in
a clear firm hand.

"You remember what I said to you about your report at Christmas, Mike?"
said Mr. Jackson, folding the lethal document and replacing it in
its envelope.

Mike said nothing; there was a sinking feeling in his interior.