on the table! The hero heated red-hot with his own triumph, welcomes
the poor little snob cheerfully, with a volley of oaths. "Thunder and
lightning! Explosion and blood! What's up now, Julius? What's up now?"

Julius recovered his breath, and arranged his coat. The quiet little
man, who had just muscle enough to lift a dictionary from the shelf, and
just training enough to play the fiddle, so far from being daunted by
the rough reception accorded to him, appeared to feel no other sentiment
in relation to it than a sentiment of unmitigated contempt.

"You're not frightened, are you?" said Geoffrey. "Our fellows are a
roughish lot, but they mean well."

"I am not frightened," answered Julius. "I am only wondering--when the
Schools and Universities of England turn out such a set of ruffians as
these--how long the Schools and Universities of England will last."

"Mind what you are about, Julius! They'll cart you out of window if they
hear you."

"They will only confirm my opinion of them, Geoffrey, if they do."

Here the assembly, seeing but not hearing the colloquy between the two
brothers, became uneasy on the subject of the coming race. A roar of
voices summoned Geoffrey to announce it, if there was any thing wrong.
Having pacified the meeting, Geoffrey turned again to his brother, and
asked him, in no amiable mood, what the devil he wanted there?

"I want to tell you something, before I go back to Scotland," answered
Julius. "My father is willing to give you a last chance. If you don't