David was sitting in front of the fire in his house-master’s study one afternoon late in November, occasionally reading the _Sporting and Dramatic_ and otherwise listening with a strong inward satisfaction to the slinging of the sleet on to the window panes, which, as pointed out by Lucretius, emphasises the warm comfort of present surroundings. He had a large foot on each side of the fire just below the chimney-piece, and a large cushion at the back of his head, and no intention at all of going into the foul, cold shower-bath called “out-of-doors.” What made his satisfaction the more complete was that a notice had been passed round at hall from Gregson, the captain of the house at football, that every one had to go out for a three-mile run with a view to keeping in training for house-matches, and it added to David’s pleasure to think of all those poor wretches plodding through the rainy sleet and the mud and the puddles, while he, like the king’s daughter in the psalms, was “all glorious within.” Gregson—_alias_ Plugs—who was a pal of David’s, had called him by all the insulting names he could think of, when David had absolutely refused to obey orders, and the end of it had been that David had picked Gregson up (he was a little fellow, though an admirable half-back at Rugby football) and carried him all the way upstairs in his arms and round each dormitory in turn to show him that he was in perfectly good training already. Thereafter he had taken the _Sporting and Dramatic_ from the reading-room, against all rules, and retired to Adams’s study to spend a cosy time before the fire. Adams himself came in before long, and David pushed his chair back, and took down his large feet, so that he did not usurp the whole of the hearthrug and the entire warmth of the fire. He had, like half the house, the habit of sitting in Adams’s study, who wanted nothing better than to have his boys about. “Not gone for a training-run, David?” asked he. “No, sir. Plugs—er, gave me leave-off.” Adams lit his pipe, and sat down on the hearthrug, which was his usual place. “On what grounds?” he asked. David laughed. “I carried him round the house, sir, to show him I was in good training,” he said. “He didn’t mind a bit.” “That’ll do for my text,” said Adams. “I wanted to sermonise you. That’s the sort of thing, David, that I wish you wouldn’t do. You are rather given to undermining authority. It doesn’t set a very good example, and though you probably don’t know it, the house takes its tune from you and one or two others. You are pals with Gregson, I know. And that’s all the more reason why you should support him. And, while I’m on the subject, I want to ask you not to swear so much.” David sat up in astonishment. “Sir, I bet you’ve never heard me swear,” he said.