66

CRAMBE REPÉTITA."

319

historian of Camford; personally, I am only acquainted by report with the system resorted to.

Hazlet began to be in a fright about the Little-go, from the very commencement of his second October. His mother well knew that the examination was approaching, and thought it quite impossible that her ingenuous and right-minded son could fall a victim to the malice of examiners. Hazlet was not so sure of this himself, and as the days had passed by when he could speak of the classics with a holy indignation against their vices and idolatry, he was wrought up by dread of the coming papers into a high state of nervous excitement.

I will not betray the mistake he made, or dish up in this place the "crambe repétita" of those Little-go anecdotes, which at this period of the year awaken the laughter of combination rooms, and dissipate the dullness of Camford life. Suffice it to say that Hazlet displayed an ignorance at once egregious and astounding; the ingenious perversity of his mistakes, the fatuous absurdity of his confusions, would be inconceivable to any who do not know by experience the extraordinary combinations of ignorance and conceit. The examiners were very lenient and forbearing, but Hazlet was plucked; plucked, too, in Scripture History, which astonished everybody, until it became known that he had attributed John the Baptist's death to his having "danced with Herodia's daughter"-traced a connection between the Old and New Testaments in the fact of St. Peter's having cut off the ear of Malachi, the last of the prophets-and stated that the substance of St. Paul's sermon at Athens, was "crying vehemently

320

HAZLET PLUCKED.

about the space of two hours, Great is Diana of the Ephesians!"

It is a sad pity that such ludicrous associations should center round the word "pluck." It is anything but a laughing matter to those who undergo the process; they have tried hard and worked diligently, perhaps, to pass the examination, and, if they fail, they see before them another long period of weary and dissatisfied effort, with the same probability of failure, again and again repeated; for, until the barrier of Little-go is passed, they can advance no further, and must simply stay at Camford, until, in some way or other, they can succeed in getting up the requisite minimum of information. I have seen a strong man in the senatehouse turn as white as a sheet, when a paper which he was unable to answer was placed before him. I fancy I see him now, and distinctly remember my strong feeling of compassion for his distress, and my earnest hope that he would not be "floored."

There was a general laugh in St. Werner's when it was announced that Hazlet was plucked-and in Scripture History, too! His follies and inconsistencies had, unhappily, made him a butt; but men little knew how heavily the misfortune would weigh upon him.

He happened at this time to be living on the same staircase with Lillyston, and Lillyston, who was in the rooms below him, was quite amazed at the sounds which he heard proceeding from his rooms. For a long time there was a series of boo-hoos, long, loud, and wailing, as of some animal in distress, and then there was an uproar as of some one running violently about,

and throwing the furniture out of his way. Lillyston was just on the point of going to see what was the matter, when the breathless bed-maker appeared at the door, and said,—

Oh, Mr. Lillyston, sir, do go and look at Mr. Hazlet, sir; he's took very bad, he is!”

"Took very bad-how do you mean?"

"Why, sir, it's the Little-go, sir, as done it. He's plucked, sir, and it's upset him like. So, when I asked him if he'd a tea'd, and if I should take away the things, he begins a banging his chairs about, you see, sir, quite uncomfortable."

Lillyston immediately ran up stairs. The violent fit seemed to have subsided, for Hazlet, peering out of a corner, with wandering, spectacled eyes, quite cowered when he saw him. Lillyston was shocked at the spectacle he presented. Hazlet was but half dressed; his hands kept up an uneasy and vague motion, his face was blank, and his whole appearance resembled that of an idiot.

"Why, Hazlet, my man, what is the matter with you ?" said Lillyston, cheerily.

Hazlet trembled, and muttered something about a dog. It happened that just before coming back from the senate-house, a large Newfoundland had run against him, and his excited imagination had mingled this most recent impression with the vagaries of a temporary madness.

"The dog, my dear fellow; why, there's no dog here."

Hazlet cowered farther into the corner.

"Here, won't you have some tea?" said Lillyston; "I'll make it for you. Come and help me."

He began to busy himself about setting the teathings, and cutting the bread, while he occupied Hazlet in pouring out the water and attending to the kettle. Hazlet started violently every now and then, and looked with a terrified side-glance at Lillyston, as though apprehensive of some wrong.

At last Lillyston got him to sit down quietly, and gave him a cup of tea and some bread. He ate it in silence, except that every now and then he uttered a sort of wail, and looked up at Lillyston. The look didn't seem to satisfy him, for, after a few minutes, he seized his knife, and said: "I shall cut off your whiskers."

What put the grotesque fancy into his head, Lillyston did not know; probably some faint reminiscence of having been forced to shave after the trick which Bruce had played on him by painting his face with lampblack and ochre.

Lillyston decidedly declined the proposition, and they both started up from their seats-Hazlet brandishing his knife with determined purpose, and looking at his companion with a strange savage glare under his spectacles.

After darting round the room once or twice to escape his attack, Lillyston managed with wonderful skill to clutch the wrist of Hazlet's right hand, and, being very strong, he held him with the grasp of a vice, while with his left hand he forced the knife out of his clutch, and dropped it on the floor. He held him tight for a minute or two, although Hazlet struggled so

fiercely, that it was no easy task, and then quietly forced him into a chair, and spoke to him in a firm authoritative voice,

"No mischief, Hazlet; we shan't allow it. Now, listen to me: you must go to bed."

The tone of voice and the strength of will which characterized Lillyston's proceedings awed Hazlet into submission. He cried a little, and then suffered Lillyston to see him into his rooms, and to put him into a fair way toward going to bed. Taking the precaution to remove his razor, Lillyston locked the door upon him, and determined at once to get medical advice. The doctor, however, could give very little help; it was, he said, a short fit of temporary madness, for which quiet and change of air were the only effectual remedies. He did not anticipate that there would be any other outbreak of violence, or anything more than a partial imbecility.

"Do come and help me to manage Hazlet," said Lillyston to Julian, next morning; "his head has been turned by being plucked for the Little-go, and he's as mad as Hercules Furens."

Julian went, and they stayed in Hazlet's room till he had quietly breakfasted. He then appeared to be so calm that Lillyston agreed to leave Julian there for the morning, and to take the charge of Hazlet for the afternoon and evening. It seemed absolutely necessary that some one should take charge of him, and they thought it best to divide the labor.

Julian sorely felt the loss of time. He had a great deal to get through before the all-important scholarship examination, and the loss of every available hour