far! The building, which was once a stable, had been fitted up expressly as an arena, where dogs might exhibit their prowess, and thither the cage was now carried by Stubbs, Topper going almost the whole way on his hind-legs, with his nose close to the wires. Considering the amount of excitement the entertainment did not last long; the rats were turned out into the arena, where Topper pounced upon them one after the other with a nip and a shake which was at once fatal. In a couple of minutes there were six fewer rats in the world, and Topper was extremely anxious to diminish the number still further. Doctor Johnson, the compiler of the dictionary, said he had never in his life had as many peaches and nectarines as he could eat, and that was Topper’s feelings with regard to rats. Edwards did not enjoy the spectacle quite as much as he felt that he ought. Besides, he was engaged in desperate efforts to light his cigar. Match after match did he burn, sucking away all the time like a leech, but no smoke came into his mouth.

“Let us go into the orchard and finish the beer,” said Saurin.

The orchard was surrounded by so thick a hedge that it was just as private as the yard. A cobby horse was cropping the grass, an ungroomed, untrimmed animal, very much better than he looked, his master, for reasons of his own, being as anxious to disguise his merits as most proprietors of the noble animal are to enhance them as much as possible. There were possibilities of recreation here, though they were somewhat of a low order. Quoits hung up on several large nails driven into a wall, and there was a covered skittle alley. For there were a good many small farmers of the class just above that of the a labourer in the neighbourhood, and some of them frequented Slam’s, and were partial to skittles.

The four boys and the proprietor of the establishment seated themselves on benches in this orchard and gulped the beer.

“Your cigar does not seem to draw well,” said Saurin.

“No,” replied Edwards; “I can’t think what is the matter with it; I never smoked a cigar like this before.”

Which was perfectly true, as it was the first he had ever put into his mouth.

“Let me look at it. Why, you have not bitten the end off! You might as well expect smoke to go up a chimney that is bricked up at the top. Here, I’ll cut it for you with my penknife; now you will find it go all right. What a row that hawk of yours makes, Perry!”

“Yes, he ought to be hooded, you know. Hateful times we live in, don’t we! How jolly it must have been when education meant learning to ride, fly a hawk, train a hound, shoot with the bow, and use the sword and buckler, instead of mugging at abominable lessons.”

“Right you are, sir,” said Mr Slam; “why, even when I was a lad a fight or a bit of cocking could be brought off without much trouble, but nowadays the beaks and perlice are that prying and interfering there’s no chance hardly. And as for them times Mr Perry was speaking of, why, I’ve heard tell that the princes and all the nobs used to go to see a prize-fight in a big building all comfortable, just as they goes now to a theayter. And every parish had to find a bull or a bear to be bated every Sunday. Ah! them was the good old times, them was.”

Edwards did not find his cigar very nice. The smoke got down his throat and made him cough till his eyes watered, and the taste was not so pleasant as the smell. However, Saurin seemed to like it, so there must be some pleasure about it if he only persevered.

He laboured under a delusion here, for Saurin would rather not have smoked, as a matter of fact, though he had a great object in view, the colouring of his pipe, which supported him. His real motive in this, as in all other matters, was vanity. Other boys would admire him for smoking like a full-grown man, and so he smoked. He would never have done it alone, without anyone to see him, being too fond of himself to persevere in anything he did not like out of whim, or for the sake of some possible future gratification, of the reality of which he was not very well assured.

“Did you ever play at quoits, Edwards?” asked Saurin presently.

“Yes, I have played at home; we have some.”

“Suppose we have a game, then. Why, hulloa, how pale you look! don’t smoke any more of that cigar.”

“I do fee—feel a little queer,” said Edwards, who certainly did not exaggerate his sensations. A cold sweat burst out on his forehead, his hands were moist and clammy, and though it was a warm evening he shivered from head to foot, while he had a violent pain in his stomach which prevented his standing upright.

“Come, man alive, don’t give way. We must be getting back soon,” said Saurin, who was rather dismayed at the idea of taking his friend to his tutor’s in that condition, and the consequent risk of drawing suspicion on himself. “Would not a drop of brandy be a good thing, Slam?”

“Well, no, not in this here case,” said Slam. “The missus shall mix him a little mustard and warm water; that’s what he wants.”

“You are sure it’s only the cigar,” groaned Edwards. “I am not poisoned or anything?”

“Poisoned! how can you be? You have taken nothing but the beer, and we have all drunk that. No, it’s the tobacco; it always makes fellows rather seedy at first, and I expect you swallowed a lot of the smoke.”

“I did.”

“Well, then, drink this and you will be all right presently.”

Edwards took the emetic, which had the effect peculiar to that description of beverage. It was not a pleasant one; indeed, he thought he was going to die; but after a while the worst symptoms passed off, and he was able to walk home.

Saurin and Edwards lodged at the same tutors, and they went up to the room of the latter without attracting attention. Here Edwards, under the other’s directions, washed his face, cleaned his teeth, changed his jacket and neck-tie, and put some scented pomatum on his hair, and then lay down on his bed till the supper-bell should ring.

“I shall not be able to eat,” he remonstrated. “Do you think I need go down?”

“Oh, yes; come and have a try, or else it will excite suspicion. You would have to show at prayers directly afterwards, you know, so it will not make much difference. You have nothing to do with old Cookson between this and supper—no exercise or anything?”

“No, thank goodness!”

“That’s all right. You have a good hour for a nap, and your head will be better then. I must go and sweeten myself now.”

I regret to say that “old Cookson” was the shockingly disrespectful way in which this flagitious youth spoke of his reverend and learned tutor.