he had delivered. They wouldn’t ask him to dinner, or let their names appear with his in the papers; they would be very careful how they spoke of him in the Palaver, or at their clubs. What can we expect, then, when we have only poor gallant blundering men like Kossuth, Garibaldi, Mazzini, and righteous causes which do not triumph in their hands; men who have holes enough in their armour, God knows, easy to be hit by respectabilities sitting in their lounging chairs, and having large balances at their bankers’? But you are brave gallant boys, who hate easy-chairs, and have no balances or bankers. You only want to have your heads set straight to take the right side; so bear in mind that majorities, especially respectable ones, are nine times out of ten in the wrong; and that if you see a man or boy striving earnestly on the weak side, however wrong-headed or blundering he may be, you are not to go and join the cry against him. If you can’t join him and help him, and make him wiser, at any rate remember that he has found something in the world which he will fight and suffer for, which is just what you have got to do for yourselves; and so think and speak of him tenderly.

So East and Tom, the Tadpole, and one or two more, became a sort of young Ishmaelites, their hands against every one, and every one’s hand against them. It has been already told how they got to war with the masters and the fifth form, and with the sixth it was much the same. They saw the præpostors cowed by or joining with the fifth and shirking their own duties; so they didn’t respect them, and rendered no willing obedience. It had been one thing to clean out studies for sons of heroes like old Brooke, but was quite another to do the like for Snooks and Green, who had never faced a good scrummage at football, and couldn’t keep the passages in order at night. So they only slurred through their fagging just well enough to escape a licking, and not always that, and got the character of sulky, unwilling fags. In the fifth-form room, after supper, when such matters were often discussed and arranged, their names were for ever coming up.

“I say, Green,” Snooks began one night, “isn’t that new boy, Harrison, your fag?”

“Yes; why?”

“Oh, I know something of him at home, and should like to excuse him. Will you swop?”

“Who will you give me?”

“Well, let’s see, there’s Willis, Johnson—No, that won’t do. Yes, I have it—there’s young East, I’ll give you him.”

“Don’t you wish you may get it?” replied Green. “I’ll give you two for Willis, if you like.”

“Who then?” asked Snooks.

“Hall and Brown.”

“Wouldn’t have ’em at a gift.”

“Better than East, though; for they ain’t quite so sharp,” said Green, getting up and leaning his back against the mantel-piece—he wasn’t a bad fellow, and couldn’t help not being able to put down the unruly fifth form. His eye twinkled as he went on, “Did I ever tell you how the young vagabond sold me last half?”

“No—how?”

“Well, he never half cleaned my study out, only just stuck the candlesticks in the cupboard, and swept the crumbs on to the floor. So at last I was mortal angry, and had him up, and made him go through the whole performance under my eyes: the dust the young scamp made nearly choked me, and showed that he hadn’t swept the carpet before. Well, when it was all finished, ‘Now, young gentleman,’ says I, ‘mind, I expect this to be done every morning, floor swept, table-cloth taken off and shaken, and everything dusted.’ ‘Very well,’ grunts he. Not a bit of it though—I was quite sure in a day or two that he never took