"They had got into my head too much; my ears sang like the roaring of the sea, and I thought my feet were frozen on to an iceberg: then came darkness, and sea monsters, and drowning--it was too horrid!" and his face expressed all, and more than all, he said.

"But 'tis a quarter to seven--we must go," said he, with a long yawn, and rubbing his eyes.

"You are sure they are right, Ethel?
Harry, come along." Ethel thought those verses ought to make a sensation, but all that came of them was a Quam optime, and when she asked Norman if no special notice had been taken of them, he said, in his languid way, "No; only Dr.Hoxton said they were better than usual." Ethel did not even have the satisfaction of hearing that Mr.Wilmot, happening to meet Dr.May, said to him, "Your boy has more of a poet in him than any that has come in my way.

He really sometimes makes very striking verses." Richard watched for an opportunity of speaking to Harry, which did not at once occur, as the boy spent very little of his time at home, and, as if by tacit consent, he and Norman came in later every evening.

At last, on Thursday, in the additional two hours' leisure allowed to the boys, when the studious prepared their tasks, and the idle had some special diversion, Richard encountered him running up to his own room to fetch a newly-invented instrument for projecting stones.
"I'll walk back to school with you," said Richard.