'Well, I wish instead of quoting rot you'd devote your energies to
helping me with these beastly verses. How on earth shall I begin?'

'You might adapt my quotation. "What's Dido got to do with me, or I to
do with Dido?" I rather like that. Jam it down. Then you go on in a
sort of rag-time metre. In the "Coon Drum-Major" style. Besides, you
see, the beauty of it is that you administer a wholesome snub to the
examiner right away. Makes him sit up at once. Put it down.'

Lorimer bit off another quarter of an inch of his pen. 'You needn't be
an ass,' he said shortly.

'My dear chap,' said Pringle, enjoying himself immensely, 'what on
earth is the good of my offering you suggestions if you won't take
them?'

Lorimer said nothing. He bit off another mouthful of penholder.

'Well, anyway,' resumed Pringle. 'I can't see why you're so keen on the
business. Put down anything. The beaks never make a fuss about these
special exams.'

'It isn't the beaks I care about,' said Lorimer in an injured tone of
voice, as if someone had been insinuating that he had committed some
crime, 'only my people are rather keen on my doing well in this exam.'

'Why this exam, particularly?'

'Oh, I don't know. My grandfather or someone was a bit of a pro at
verse in his day, I believe, and they think it ought to run in the