"Never learned?" said Tom, in amazement. "Why, when I make dogs and horses, and those things, the heads and the legs won't come right, though I can see how they ought to be very well. I can make houses, and all sorts of chimneys--chimneys going all down the wall, and windows in the roof, and all that. But I dare say I could do dogs and horses if I was to try more," he added. "Oh yes," said Philip, "it's very easy. You've only to look well at things, and draw them over and over again. What you do wrong once, you can alter the next time." "But haven't you been taught anything?" said Tom. "Yes," said Philip, smiling; "I've been taught Latin, and Greek, and mathematics, and writing, and such things." "Oh, but, I say, you don't like Latin, though, do you?" said Tom. "Pretty well; I don't care much about it," said Philip. "But I've done with the grammar," he added. "I don't learn that any more." "Then you won't have the same lessons as I shall?" said Tom, with a sense of disappointment. "No; but I dare say I can help you. I shall be very glad to help you if I can." Tom did not say "Thank you," for he was quite absorbed in the thought that Wakem's son did not seem so spiteful a fellow as might have been expected. "I say," he said presently, "do you love your father?" "Yes," said Philip, colouring deeply; "don't you love yours?" "Oh yes; I only wanted to know," said Tom, rather ashamed of himself, now he saw Philip colouring and looking uncomfortable. "Shall you learn drawing now?" he said, by way of changing the subject. "No," said Philip. "My father wishes me to give all my time to other things now." "What! Latin, and Euclid, and those things?" said Tom. "Yes," said Philip, who had left off using his pencil, and was resting his head on one hand, while Tom was leaning forward on both elbows, and looking at the dog and the donkey. "And you don't mind that?" said Tom, with strong curiosity. "No; I like to know what everybody else knows. I can study what I like by-and-by." "I can't think why anybody should learn Latin," said Tom. "It's no good." "It's part of the education of a gentleman," said Philip. "All gentlemen learn the same things." "What! do you think Sir John Crake, the master of the harriers, knows Latin?" said Tom. "He learnt it when he was a boy, of course," said Philip. "But I dare say he's forgotten it." "Oh, well, I can do that, then," said Tom readily. "Oh, I don't mind Latin," said Philip, unable to choke a laugh; "I can remember things easily. And there are some lessons I'm very fond of. I'm very fond of Greek history, and everything about the Greeks. I should like to have been a Greek and fought the Persians, and then have come home and written tragedies, or else have been listened to by everybody for my wisdom, like Socrates, and have died a grand death."