"You are fond of books, then?" "I love 'em, sir!" "Do you read every day?" "Not since I came to London, for we have no books except our lesson books at school." "Mm--mm! Should you like to read if you had the opportunity?" "Wouldn't I?" burst out Samuel, with enthusiasm. "I think we can arrange matters then. A boy who swims with Leander down London Strand, causing people to take him for a sneak thief, ought surely to have books to read," and pressing a yellow card into Samuel's hand, he continued,-- "This is a ticket to a circulating library in Cheapside. By showing this to the librarian you can draw as many books as you like. Good day, my young gentleman!" Without waiting to hear Samuel's exclamations of gratitude, the stranger was off, leaving the boy overjoyed in the street. From that day the school life was made more bearable by the precious fruit of the yellow ticket. Hunger, cold, loneliness, and punishments were daily forgotten in the adventures of knights of old. Samuel took all risks in slipping out to get the books, but, fortunately, he was never detected, and he proceeded to read straight through the library at the rate of two volumes daily. The ruggedness of his present life, however, could not be entirely smoothed by stories and poetry. Christ's Hospital did not differ from other charity schools of the time in its discipline and arrangements for the welfare of its inmates; and indeed many of the great schools of England, Germany, and France, whose walls could be entered only by the payment of extravagant fees, were similarly conducted. Instructors had not yet learned that young bodies should be cared for as zealously as young brains, and that happiness promotes better work than does distress. They managed their schools exactly as had their fathers before them, deeming it the most natural thing in the world that growing boys should be poorly nourished and poorly warmed. As winter drew on, Samuel yearned deeply for his home. He pictured to himself the family in the comfortable old house in Devonshire, and his thoughts clung so feverishly to the images of his mother and his big brother Luke that even his dreams enfolded them, and often he awoke weeping in the night. He could not inform the loved ones of his dreary condition, for all letters written by the students were read by the masters before being posted, and if unfavorable comments were found therein, the notes were promptly destroyed.