"Oh, _you_--yes," answered Kenrick; "if we were all gifted with your mouselike stillness in school, my dear old Dubbs--" "And your metallic capacity of grind, my dear old Dubbs," added Henderson. "And your ostrich-like digestion of crabbed rules, my dear old Dubbs; why, then," said Kenrick, "we should all be boys after Paton's heart." "Or Paton's pattern," suggested Henderson; so it was now Kenrick's turn to shudder at a miserable attempt at a pun, and return Henderson's missile, whereupon he got a _hundred_ lines, which made him pull a very long face. "Who's to be your tutor, Evson?" he asked after this interlude. "I suppose you're going to pick him to pieces, now," said Daubeny, smiling; "don't you believe half they say of him, Evson." "Oh, if you're sharp, and successful, and polite, and gentlemanly, and jolly, and all that sort of thing, he'll like you very much, and be exceedingly kind to you; but if you are lazy, or mischievous, or stupid, or at all a pickle, he'll ignore you, snub you, won't speak to you. I wish you'd been in the same pupil-room with me." "Depends on who he is, O virtuous Dubbs," said Henderson. "His end shall be `pieces,' as _Punch_ says, if he deserves it." "He told me I was to be Mr Robertson's pupil," said Walter. "Hum-m!" observed Kenrick. "Why, what sort of a person is he?" "Some of his pups detest him, others adore him." "Why?" "Who's your tutor, then?" "Percival; there, the master who is chatting and laughing with those monitors. He's a regular brick. _Plinthos estin_ as we say in Greek," said Kenrick. "Halloa! tea's over." "And you've been chattering so much that the new fellow's had none," said Henderson, as a bell rang and one of the monitors read a short Latin grace.