It seemed queer advice at the time, but I had occasion to call it to mind later on, as the reader will discover. By the end of my first week I was pretty well domesticated at Low Heath. My chief regret was that I saw so little of Dicky Brown; and when we did meet the only thing we had in common was our lessons, which were not always congenial topics of conversation. Dicky was fully imbued with the superiority of the town-boy over the house boy, and irritated me sometimes by his repeated regret that I was not eligible for the junior Urbans. "What do you do?" I inquired. "Oh, hosts of things. We go in for geology, and part songs, and antiquities, and all that sort of thing; and have excursions--at least, we're going to have one soon--to look for remains." "Ah! it's a pity you couldn't come to our picnic next week. It's to be no end of a spree." "Oh, we've heard all about that," said Dicky, with a grin. "_Mens sano in corpore sanae_--you should hear some of our chaps yell about that." "I'm sure it's not a bad motto," ventured I. "I don't know about that. But it's not the motto, it's the grammar." I wasn't quite pleased with Dicky for this. It seemed as if he thought he knew more than other people, which I held to be a reprehensible failing in any one--particularly a day boy. I flattered myself that, as an exhibitioner, he had hardly the right to talk to me about grammar. But it was Dicky's way, and I knew he couldn't help it. For all that, I referred to the subject in the faggery that evening. My comrades were in high glee. Half a dozen subscriptions had come in, with requests to be allowed to join the picnic, and a considerable number of others had asked to be allowed at half price or on the deferred payment system. "It's going like anything, Sarah," said Langrish, thumping me violently on the back. "Where's the picnic to be?" I inquired. "Wouldn't you like to know?" said the secretary. I said I would, and, as president, considered I was entitled to the information. "We're not as green as we look; are we, you chaps?" said Trimble. "Why, you don't suppose we're going to let out and give you a chance of blabbing to the day-boy cads, do you?" "I'm not any more likely to blab than you are," said I, warmly. "All serene. You keep your temper--you'll know time enough." "Suppose I resigned," said I, feeling I must support my dignity. "Resign away. We've got your subscription." "I don't mean I shall," said I; "but--" "Shut up, and don't disturb the committee meeting." "If I'm president, I suppose I've a right to speak." "Not till you're asked." "All right," said I, playing my trump card desperately. "When you do ask me what's wrong with the grammar of your Latin motto, I sha'n't tell you. Ha, ha!--_corpore sanae_. You should hear the fellows yell."