By its aid, the Frogs of Aristophanes became my merry friends. With Ulysses I wandered eagerly through Wonderland. Doctor Florret was charmed with my progress, which was real, for now, at last, I was studying according to the laws of common sense, understanding first, explaining afterwards. Let Youth, that the folly of Age would imprison in ignorance, provide itself with “Keys.” But let me not seem to claim credit due to another. Dan it was--Dan of the strong arm and the soft smile, Dan the wise hater of all useless labour, sharp-witted, easy-going Dan, who made this grand discovery. Dan followed me a term later into the Lower Fourth, but before he had been there a week was handling Latin verse with an ease and dexterity suggestive of unholy dealings with the Devil. In a lonely corner of Regent's Park, first making sure no one was within earshot, he revealed to me his magic. “Don't tell the others,” he commanded; “or it will get out, and then nobody will be any the better.” “But is it right?” I asked. “Look here, young 'un,” said Dan; “what are you here for--what's your father paying school fees for (it was the appeal to our conscientiousness most often employed by Dr. Florret himself), for you to play a silly game, or to learn something? “Because if it's only a game--we boys against the masters,” continued Dan, “then let's play according to rule. If we're here to learn--well, you've been in the class four months and I've just come, and I bet I know more Ovid than you do already.” Which was true. So I thanked Dan and shared with him his key; and all the Latin I remember, for whatever good it may be to me, I take it I owe to him.