See ?" Mr Rollitt thought he did, and nodded amiably.

"You see, it's not much larks unless we're all in it.

We went up Hawk's Pike, you know." "No," said Mr Rollitt.

"How did that happen ?" "Well, it was this way, you see," began Percy, taking up, as was his wont, the narrative at a remote period.

"After those Classic cads--k-i- d-s, you know, had--( Shut up, Wally, I said k-i-d-s; can't you spell ?) had caved in." "Who caved in!" expostulated the Classics.
"Well, after Stratton's, you know, when we started the shop--I say, you'll have to come and see the shop--well--it was before that, though; it was when the row began about Corder not being stuck in--that was before that, you know--Brinkman screwed his foot, so there was a man short for the team, so Clapperton--that's our prefect, you know; he's all right now, but he--hullo, I say, he's gone asleep!" Sure enough Mr Rollitt, weary with his long journey, with the excitement of the day, and with the excellence of the tea, had dozed off comfortably, on his chair in the fender, with his pipe in his mouth.
Percy felt it unnecessary to pursue his lucid narrative, and the nine hosts sat watching their man as his head nodded forward, and the urgent necessity for a snore presently rendered the position of the pipe no longer tenable.
It was a triumph! No man could have gone off like that unless he had felt thoroughly comfortable.