`Ah, yes! that came next. Instead of giving the whole reward of learning in one lump, we used to pay for every good answer as it occurred. How well I remember lecturing in those days, with a heap of small coins at my elbow! It was "A very good answer, Mr. Jones!" (that meant a shilling, mostly). "Bravo, Mr. Robinson!" (that meant half-a-crown). Now I'll tell you how that worked. Not one single fact would any of them take in, without a fee! And when a clever boy came up from school, he got paid more for learning than we got paid for teaching him! Then came the wildest craze of all.'

`What, another craze?' I said.

`It's the last one,' said the old man. `I must have tired you out with my long story. Each College wanted to get the clever boys: so we adopted a system which we had heard was very popular in England: the Colleges competed against each other, and the boys let themselves out to the highest bidder! What geese we were! Why, they were bound to come to the University somehow. We needn't have paid 'em! And all our money went in getting clever boys to come to one College rather than another! The competition was so keen, that at last mere money-payments were not enough. Any College, that wished to secure some specially clever young man, had to waylay him at the station, and hunt him through the streets. The first who touched him was allowed to have him.'

`That hunting-down of the scholars, as they arrived, must have been a curious business,' I said. `Could you give me some idea of what it was like?'

`Willingly!' said the old man. `I will describe to you the very last Hunt that took place, before that form of Sport (for it was actually reckoned among the Sports of the day: we called it "Cub-Hunting") was finally abandoned. I witnessed it myself, as I happened to be passing by at the moment, and was what we called "in at the death". I can see it now!' he went on in an excited tone, gazing into vacancy with those large dreamy eyes of his `It seems like yesterday; and yet it happened--' He checked himself hastily, and the remaining words died away into a whisper.

`How many years ago did you say?' I asked, much interested in the prospect of at last learning some definite fact in his history.

`Many years ago,' he replied. `The scene at the Railway-Station had been (so they told me) one of wild excitement. Eight or nine Heads of Colleges had assembled at the gates (no one was allowed inside), and the Station-Master had drawn a line on the pavement, and insisted on their all standing behind it. The gates were flung open! The young man darted through them, and fled like lightning down the street, while the Heads of Colleges actually yelled with excitement on catching sight of him! The Proctor gave the word, in the old statutory form, "Semel! Bis! Ter! Currite!", and the Hunt began! Oh, it was a fine sight, believe me! At the first corner he dropped his Greek Lexicon: further on, his railway-rug: then various small articles: then his umbrella: lastly, what I suppose he prized most, his hand-bag; but the game was up: the spherical Principal of--of--'

`Of which College?' I said.

`--of one of the Colleges,' he resumed, `had put into operation the Theory--his own discovery--of Accelerated Velocity, and captured him just opposite to where I stood. I shall never forget that wild breathless struggle! But it was soon over. Once in those great bony hands, escape was impossible!'

`May I ask why you speak of him as the "spherical" Principal?" I said.

`The epithet referred to his shape, which was a perfect sphere. You are aware that a bullet, another instance of a perfect sphere, when falling in a perfectly straight line, moves with Accelerated Velocity?'

I bowed assent.