fag-master merely said: "Don't forget again." A little later the
fag-master had some friends to tea, and told the boy who gave good
advice to boil him six eggs for not more than three minutes and a half.
The boy who gave good advice, while they were on the fire, took part in
a rag that which was going on in the passage; the result was that the
eggs remained seven minutes in boiling water. They were hard. When the
fag-master pointed this out and asked his fag what he meant by it, the
boy who gave good advice persisted in his statement that they had been
exactly three minutes and a half in the saucepan, and that he had timed
them by his watch. So the fag-master caned him for telling lies.

The boy who gave good advice grew into a man and went to the university.
There he made friends with a man called Crawley, who went to a
neighbouring race meeting one day and lost two or three hundred pounds.

"I must raise the money from a money-lender somehow," said Crawley to
the man who gave good advice, "and on no account must the Master hear of
it or he would send me down; or write home, which would be worse."

"On the contrary," said the man who gave good advice, "you must go
straight to the Master and tell him all about it. He will like you twice
as much for ever afterwards; he never minds people getting into scrapes
when he happens to like them, and he likes you and believes you have a
great career before you."

Crawley went to the Master of the college and made a clean breast of it.
The Master told him he had been foolish--very foolish; but he arranged
the whole matter in such a manner that it never came to the ears of
Crawley's extremely violent-tempered and puritanical father.