was technically called "in sweat." Selective attendance none the less arose sometimes. For instance, the Prefects were allowed to have toast for tea and having been discovered to make good toast I was frequently given this duty. Those who disliked it were apt to escape it by means of accidentally dropping the toast in the fire or the ashes, but I found myself sufficiently rewarded by the occasional grant of a piece of toast for myself. We used to be "sweated" down to shops to buy for Prefects the occasional extras they were allowed to have at tea twice a week, and I owe to the necessity of satisfying my Prefect on my return, my capacity for choosing a good piece of streaky bacon in a grocer's. An occasional less agreeable duty was the cleaning of very filthy football boots. But all things have their compensations: I had a Prefect named Mansfield, brother of Lord Sandhurst, and now partner in that firm of wine merchants, Hatch, Mansfield and Co., from whom we get such frequent circulars. His glory in those days was that he was Captain of Six, and my advantage was that I was better at French than he was. I used, therefore, to do his French exercises for him, and in return received the coveted privilege and distinction of occupying his roomy toys.

There were three terms in the year, but distinguished of course by our peculiar names, Common Time, Cloister Time, and Short Half. In Short Half football was played, and was compulsory for every man who had not medical exemption. Winchester football is a game entirely sui generis, and is played in a long narrow ground enclosed by a net on the two long sides, and has no goal posts; however, I do not propose to weary my readers with a technical description. Towards the end of the term came Fifteens, that is to say a match between the best fifteen of each of the three divisions of the school that I mentioned before, College, Houses, and Commoners; and these were followed a few weeks later by Sixes which was a similar match between the best six of each side. The reserve men of the team were said to be "in dress." The distinction of being Captain of Six was very great, barely second to that of being Captain of the Eleven. The excitement caused by these matches was always very great, and party feeling ran very high. Every one attended the match, and the crowd outside the net cheered their sides vociferously. Sixes was, of course, a much faster game than Fifteens, and a great deal depended upon kicking. (Among the other intrusions of the horrible modern spirit into Winchester, I am told as a fact that the wretched creatures now play Association

Football sometimes-it sounds horrible.) After the matches came Commoner Singing, of which more anon. Cricket was played in Cloister Time and here the only compulsory part was an obligation on men who had been less than two years at the school to go down twice a week and field for those who were practising at the nets. At the end of the term came the only outside match that was played, the Eton and Winchester, played in alternate years on the grounds of either school, and lasting two days. In Common Time there were no official or compulsory games, and one's time was occupied with fives, tennis (I don't mean lawn-tennis), and boxing, fencing, and other exercises in the gymnasium, and paper-chases. Personally, I was never any good at games, and this was the term I perferred, although I rather liked football, and could play tennis moderately. At the end of my time we were sometimes allowed to play lawn-tennis in the Housemaster's garden. There was a river-so called-on which I was fond of boating. Its geographical name is the Itchen, but at Winchester it is barely wide enough for a pair of sculls, so boating was not very serious. There was also a bathing place with a dive which I much frequented.

To return to Commoner Singing. This was an ordered but hilarious function. It took place of course in Hall, presided over by the Prefects in arm-chairs, with the other men clustering where they could. Its manual was a thin red volume called Commoner Song Book which contained choruses sung by the whole assembly. Between the choruses any unfortunate person might be called upon for a solo which he had to sing standing up at the end of the long desk in full view of the company. If he were wise he would choose one with a good chorus, so that his own poor efforts might pass unnoticed in the pleasure of his audience at hearing their own voices. Having as I have already said no musical capacity, I must needs choose for my solo "The Silver Churn," which is particularly intricate. I chose it for the foolish and quite inadequate reason that I was very fond of it: I was not a success. But it had one advantage, I was never asked to sing again. (I recollect something similar when I went to have my voice tested for the choir by the organist; after trying two or three notes he gave a howl of anguish and blew me out of the room.) Apart from my own efforts, however, I thoroughly enjoyed the singing, and it caused one to know well several old English songs. One song always started the evening, a party war song of triumph in the football field of which I quote a few lines.

Then hushed was the boasting of College
And crushed was the pride of the Green
And all with one voice did acknowledge
The strength of our Red Fifteen.*

There was another kind of singing which I also much enjoyed; on Sunday evening, Mrs. Morshead used to invite as many as cared to come to her drawing-room, where she or her daughter played the piano and we sang hymns.

* Red were the Commoner colours, and green the colours of Houses: College was blue, and the antiquarians used to substitute "Blue" and "Twenty-two" for the termination of the second and fourth lines because the original number of the football team was twenty-two.

CHAPTER X

PERSONALITIES AT WINCHESTER

ET me begin as is only natural with my own House, and as is only respectful with its Prefects. There were two Thrings, both members of the same family, which has also produced the present Clerk of the Parliaments in the House of Lords. There was Hugo Fort, whom I have already mentioned, always known as "Learning" from the passage in the Acts," Much learning doth make thee mad," whose elder brother, J. A. Fort, returned to Winchester as a master before I left. There was Wigg, who afterwards became a Bishop, Jimmy Mansfield, a cricketer and Captain of Six, whom I have already mentioned. Among others, I remember Dan Eckersley who was killed a very few years after fighting bravely in some Indian skirmish, and Edwin Freshfield, son and successor to the well-known Solicitor of the Bank of England. Among those junior to me was a cousin whom I once had occasion to spank in Gallery-once only-in the place where it is fitting that people should be spanked. I remember the incident because next morning in spite of his protests we examined the locus in quo, and to my horror the marks of five fingers were still clearly discernible. From that day to this I have never raised my hand to a fellow creature in anger for fear of hurting him. No other very outstanding figures in my House come back to me with the exception of R. O. Moon, about a year my senior, who is now a distinguished physician and heart specialist, although his adventurous spirit has led him to take part in Balkan Wars, and to choose a Serbian hospital to have typhus in during the Great War. He used to be mercilessly chaffed at school because he could not pronounce his R's, but even in those days his erudition was matched by his readiness. I remember an occasion during some discussion about vegetables when a small boy from upstairs ran into Hall for a book after bedtime in a red flannel dressing-gown, whereupon Moon immediately remarked: "Here comes a scarlet wunner. The General Election of 1880 took place during my

school days; in a house which then had forty boys, he and I and one other were the only Liberals. Such are politics in the schools of the classes, and it leads to Wykehamists being rather dull dogs in later life. As against that they can be relied upon for all those sound qualities which go to make up the ideal English gentleman, and are perfectly safe people to go tiger shooting with.

Among those outside my House whose names recur to me as being known in the great world are Oman of the Board of Education, Fisher the present President, Hemmerde, K.C., ex-M.P., and the present Recorder of Liverpool, Pearson, afterwards Sir Arthur, whom I have already mentioned, Margoliouth of New College, Waterfield, son of the Headmaster at Sheen, where I used to be sent in my young days, himself Headmaster of Cheltenham and now a Dean, and many others.

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I had numerous personal friends with whom I was more or less intimate at one time or another both in the House and out of it. The old Tabula Legum prescribed that in walking to Hills Sociati omnes incedunto," and this rule was still commonly observed in ordinary school tradition so that it was unusual for a man to walk down to school or back to Chapel without a “socius " which was the Notion in use for his companion. Of my various socii I only recall one incident worth recording. It was a man who at the time was deeply impressed by religion to such an extent that not only used he to say a little prayer before drinking lemonade, but also to pray before serving a ball at lawn-tennis, that it might go over the net. I do not know why these peculiarities linger in my memory, but to this day I can never read Browning's lines:

"I the Trinity illustrate

Drinking watered orange pulp,
In three sips the Arian frustrate,
While he drains his at one gulp,"

without thinking of him.

My greatest friend then and afterwards was Lionel Johnson, but he belongs more properly to the next chapter.

The Headmaster in my time was George Ridding, known to the school either as the Doctor or as Jahra. He became Headmaster in 1866, and introduced great reforms a few years afterwards, starting the four Commoner Houses of which in my time the masters were Morshead, Fearon, Bramston, and Sergeant. He was really