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"AND now, Tom, my boy," said the squire, "remember,

you are going, at your own earnest request, to be chucked into this great school (like a young bear, with all your troubles before you) earlier than we should have sent you, perhaps. If schools are what they were in my time, you'll see a great many cruel blackguard things done, and hear a deal of foul, bad talk. But never fear. You tell the truth, keep a brave and kind heart, and never listen to or say anything you wouldn't have your mother and sister hear, and you'll never feel ashamed to come home, or we to see you."

The allusion to his mother made Tom feel rather choky, and he would have liked to have hugged his father well, if it hadn't been for the recent stipulation.

As it was, he only squeezed his father's hand, and looked bravely up, and said, "I'll try, father."

"I know you will, my boy. Is your money all safe?" "Yes," said Tom, diving into one pocket to make sure.

"And your keys?" said the squire.

"All right,” said Tom, diving into the other pocket to make sure.

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Well, then, good night. God bless you! I'll tell Boots to call you, and be up to see you off."

At ten minutes to three he was down in the coffee room in his stockings, carrying his hatbox, coat, and comforter in his hand; and there he found his father nursing a bright fire, and a cup of hot coffee and a hard biscuit on the table.

"Now then, Tom, give us your things here, and drink this; there's nothing like starting warm, old fellow.”

Tom addressed himself to the coffee, and prattled away while he worked himself into his shoes and his greatcoat well warmed through, -a Petersham coat with velvet collar, made tight, after the abominable fashion of those days. And just as he was swallowing his last mouthful, winding his comforter round his throat, and tucking the ends into the breast of his coat, the horn sounds, Boots looks in and says, "Tallyho, sir;" and they hear the ring and the rattle of the four fast trotters and the town-made drag as it dashes up to the Peacock.

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Anything for us, Bob?" says the burly guard, dropping down from behind, and slapping himself across the chest.

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Young genl'm'n, Rugby; three parcels, Leicester; hamper o' game, Rugby," answers Hostler.

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"Tell young gent to look alive," says Guard, opening the hind boot and shooting in the parcels after examining them by the lamps. "Here, shove the portmanteau up atop; I'll fasten him presently. Now then, sir, jump up behind."

"Good-by, father, my love at home." A last shake of the hand. Up goes Tom, the guard catching his hatbox and holding on with one hand, while with the other he claps the horn to his mouth. Toot, toot, toot! The hostlers let go their heads, the four bays plunge at the collar, and away goes the tallyho into the darkness, fortyfive seconds from the time they pulled up; hostler, Boots, and the squire stand looking after them under the Peacock lamp.

AT RUGBY

"And so here's Rugby, sir, at last, and you'll be in plenty of time for dinner at the Schoolhouse, as I tell'd you," said the old guard, pulling his horn out of its case, and tootle-tooing away; while the coachman shook up his horses and carried them along the side of the school close, round Dead-man's Corner, past the school gates, and down the High Street to the Spread Eagle; the wheelers in a spanking trot, and leaders cantering in a style which would not have disgraced "Cherry Bob," ramping, stamping, tearing, swearing, "Billy Harwood," or any other of the old coaching heroes.

Tom's heart beat quickly as he passed the great school field, or close, with its noble elms, in which several games at football were going on, and tried to take in at once the long line of gray buildings, beginning with the chapel, and ending with the Schoolhouse, the residence of the head master, where the great flag was lazily waving from the highest round tower. And he began already to be proud of being a Rugby boy, as he passed the school gates, with the oriel window above, and saw the boys standing there,

looking as if the town belonged to them, and nodding in a familiar manner to the coachman, as if any one of them would be quite equal to getting on the box and working the team down street as well as he.

One of the young heroes, however, ran out from the rest, and scrambled up behind; where, having righted himself and nodded to the guard with "How do, Jem?" he turned short round to Tom, and, after looking him over for a minute began –

"Is

I say, you fellow, is your name Brown?"

"Yes," said Tom, in considerable astonishment; glad, however, to have lighted on some one already who seemed to know him.

"Ah, I thought so; you know my old aunt, Miss East; she lives somewhere down your way in Berkshire. She wrote to me that you were coming to-day, and asked me to give you a lift."

Tom was somewhat inclined to resent the patronizing air of his new friend,-a boy of just about his own height and age, but gifted with the most transcendent coolness and assurance, which Tom felt to be aggravating and hard to bear, but couldn't for the life of him help admiring and envying —especially when young my-lord begins hectoring two or three long, loafing fellows, half porter, half stableman, with a strong touch of the blackguard, and in the end arranges with one of them, nicknamed Cooey, to carry Tom's luggage up to the Schoolhouse for sixpence.

"And hark'ee, Cooey, it must be up in ten minutes, or no more jobs for me. Come along, Brown." And away swaggers the young potentate, with his hands in his pockets, and Tom at his side.

ther look at Tom, "this'll never do haven't you got at? We never wear caps here. Only the louts wear

S.

Bless you, if you were to go into the quadrangle h that thing on, I — don't know what'd happen." The y idea was quite beyond young Master East, and he ked unutterable things.

Tom thought his cap a very knowing affair, but consed that he had a hat in his hatbox; which was accordly at once extracted from the hind boot, and Tom ipped in his go-to-meeting roof, as his new friend ed it. But this didn't quite suit his fastidious taste in ther minute, being too shiny; so, as they walk up the n, they dive into Nixon's, the hatter's, and Tom is ayed, to his utter astonishment, and without paying for in a regulation catskin at seven and sixpence, Nixon lertaking to send the best hat up to the matron's room, oolhouse, in half an hour.

You can send us a note for a tile on Monday, and make Il right, you know," said Mentor; "we're allowed two en-and-sixers a half, besides what we bring from

ne."

Tom by this time began to be conscious of his new al position and dignities, and to luxuriate in the lized ambition of being a public-school boy at last, with ested right of spoiling two seven-and-sixers in half a

-r.

You see," said his friend, as they strolled up towards school gates, in explanation of his conduct-"a great

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