was hurrying him to prayers and breakfast and Oscar's inexorable notes.
He sighed once more as he looked at the beauty of the new morning and
felt its air upon his cheeks. He and Bertie belonged to the same
club-table, and they met there mournfully over the oatmeal. This very
hour to-morrow would see them eating their last before the examination
in Philosophy 4. And nothing pleasant was going to happen
between,--nothing that they could dwell upon with the slightest
satisfaction. Nor had their sleep entirely refreshed them. Their eyes
were not quite right, and their hair, though it was brushed, showed
fatigue of the nerves in a certain inclination to limpness and disorder.


"Epicharmos of Kos
Was covered with moss,"

remarked Billy.


"Thales and Zeno
Were duffers at keno,"

added Bertie.

In the hours of trial they would often express their education thus.

"Philosophers I have met," murmured Billy, with scorn And they ate
silently for some time.

"There's one thing that's valuable," said Bertie next. "When they
spring those tricks on you about the flying arrow not moving, and all