David had rolled over on to his face, but at this he sat up, picking bits of dry grass out of his hair. “Yes, that’s so,” he said. “But it will be pretty beastly without you. I shan’t find another friend like you——” “You’d jolly well better not,” interrupted Frank. David could not help laughing. “I suppose we’re rather idiots about each other,” he said. “I dare say. But it’s too late to remedy that now. Oh, David, it’s a good old place this. Look at the pitch there! What a lot of ripping hours it’s given to generations of fellows, me among them. There’s the roof of the house through the trees, do you see? You can just see the end window of our dormitory. I wonder if happiness soaks into a place, so that if the famous Professor Pepper——” “Oh, mammalian blood?” said David. “What’s that? Oh yes, the crime at Naseby. Same one. I wonder if he would find a lot of happiness-germs all over the shop.” “I could do with a few,” said David, with a sudden return to melancholy. “No, you couldn’t. You’ve got plenty of them, as it is. . . . Lord, there’s that rotten speech I have to make at house-supper. What am I to say?” “Oh, usual thing. Say Adams is a good fellow, and we’re all good fellows, and it’s a good house, and a good school, and a good everything—hurrah.” “That’s about it,” said Frank. “Oh, there’s one other thing, David. Look after Jevons a bit, will you? He’s turning into rather a jolly little kid.” “Inky little beast!” said David. “All right.” Again they were silent for a while. “Rather a ripping verse in the psalms this morning,” said Frank at length. “Was there? I wasn’t attending.” “Well, it seemed rather applicable, I thought. ‘For my brethren and companions’ sake I will wish thee prosperity.’ Just as if the other David, not you, was talking to _his_ school. And there’s chapel-bell beginning.” They sat still a moment longer; then Frank rose. “We must go, David,” he said. “Wouldn’t do to be late, as it’s the last time. Give me your hands; I’ll pull you up.” David stretched out his great brown paws, and Frank hauled him to his feet. David stood there a second still holding. “Good old psalm,” he said. CHAPTER XIV