"The result of the grinding of the past four years is just coming out with a rush," continued the doctor, "and if you went back to the school you would break down by the next holidays." "If I went back?" cried the boy. "If? Oh, I must go back. I am expected to take some of the principal prizes next year." "And lose the greatest prize that can be gained by a young man, my lad-- health." "Hah!" sighed Sir John; "he is quite right, Jack, I am afraid." "Right as right, my boy. Here in four years you have done the work of about eight. It's very grand, no doubt, but it won't do." "But what is to be done?" cried Sir John. "Let the brain run fallow for the other four years, and give the body a chance," said the doctor bluntly. "What! do nothing for four years?" cried the lad indignantly. "Who said do nothing?" said the doctor testily. "Do something else. Rest your brain with change, and give your body a fair chance of recovering its tone." "Yes, Jack, my boy; he is quite right," cried Sir John. "But, father, I should be wretched." "How do you know?" said the doctor. "You have tried nothing else but books. There is something else in the world besides books, my lad. Ask your father if there is not. What's that about sermons in insects and running stones in the brooks, Meadows? I never can recollect quotations. Don't you imagine, my conceited young scholiast, that there is nothing to be seen or studied that does not exist in books. But I'm growing hoarse with talking and telling you the simple truth." "Yes, Jack, my boy, it is the simple truth," said Sir John. "I was saying something of the kind to you, as you know, when Doctor Instow came; but all the time I was sure that you were ill--and you are." "Oh yes, he's ill, and getting worse. Any one can see that." "But I do not feel ill, father." "Don't feel languid, I suppose?" said the doctor. "Well, yes, I do often feel languid," said Jack, "when the weather is--" "Bother the weather!" roared the doctor. "What business has a boy like you to know anything about the weather? Your father and I at your age would have played football, or cricket, or gone fishing in any weather-- eh, Meadows?" "Yes, in any weather," said Sir John, smiling. "A British boy knowing anything about the weather! Bosh! Do you think any of our old heroes ever bothered their brains about the weather when they wanted to do something? Look here! another word or two. You always go to sleep of course directly you lay your head on the pillow, and want another snooze when it's time to get up, eh?" "No," said the lad sadly, "I often lie awake a long time thinking."