On my dame withdrawing herself, in a lamentable state of distress and disapprobation of our misconduct, we instantly consulted as to what was to be done to deter her from complaining of us to Keate. To assist our councils, we summoned to our aid, "Fitty Willy," properly and feelingly so called from his weakness for epilepsy; nevertheless, he had ever shown great genius for getting into scrapes, and even still greater for extricating himself from their baneful effects. He at once decided, with all the assurance of an old stager, that our only hope was to proceed next morning, in a body, to my dame, and state the dreadful result, should she complain of us, and that we must express the deepest contrition of our delinquency. This, then, the next day, we had actually effected to all intents and purposes; and Kennedy was winding up the business with all the fervour of Irish eloquence, when I unfortunately burst into yells of laughter! This rendered his declamation null and void, and he even gave up the point at once; when my dame, writing a note, immediately dispatched it to head-quarters. To this day do I feel remorse for my martyred fellow-sufferers; for, on the morrow, never were they so punished, if I judge rightly from my own feelings; we were compelled, moreover, to write out fifty lines of Homer every day, for a month to come, and for these I had no "old copies;" but I soon managed to get into another dilemma. In a weak moment, I had agreed with Kennedy to sham ill and "stay out," the equivalent for which is, as we are too unwell to go into school, we are so, to be out of our houses, and when detected are invariably flogged with extra severity. On these occasions, too, my dame sends a certificate to the master, stating our respective maladies. This time, having merely acquainted her that I felt indisposed, it became incumbent on her to particularise the case, I being totally ignorant of the complaint she was pleased to ascribe to me. Kennedy's complaint was, that he had got a stomach-ach. We had now before us a long day and a beautiful one besides, and we decided that each should jump into a skiff, and scull to Cliveden, many miles up the river. This we performed in a very satisfactory manner, except that, on our return, just when we were opposite the beautiful little village of Bray, resting on our oars, and responding to each other the alternate verses of that aquatic air, now, I fear, become obsolete, though so full of pathos: "Oliver and his dear, His dear and Oliver-- John Mogs and all his hogs, His hogs and sweet John Mogs-- Agnes and her geese, Her geese and sweet Agnes, &c." I heard a voice close to me on the bank, which, by no means, chimed with the chorus, and the well-known tones of which thrilled to my very soul. There was my tutor, and I was recognised--Kennedy threw himself on his face at the bottom of his boat, and floated away undetected.