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But, in one point, for all his authority, the Doctor could not command entire obedience. The schoolboy is a knife-using animal; and the knives of many generations had been at work on this old schoolroom, roughening the desks, the tables, and the oak wainscotting with amateur carving, for the most part of quite undistinguished names and initials. It was the Poet, we know, who had set the example, little thinking how many curious visitors would come to admire his handiwork. Dr. Rashleigh would not for a bishopric have lost that laborious autograph, but he grudged that it should be drowned among undistinguished Browns and Smiths. Almost every inch of space about it was taken up by vulgar inscriptions, till he had that side of the Block cut smooth, leaving the name in solitary state. Indeed, there was hardly an available surface on the school furniture not more or less disfigured; and still idle hands went on working fresh mischief of the kind.

Many a deeply-cut two-letter name,

Where knives were spoilt to win an inch of fame,
Which linger on for years about the spot,
Brands of oblivion, living, yet forgot.

The crowning scandal was when some thoughtless urchin did not scruple to reproduce the Poet's own carving in duplicate, a clearly spurious memento which to the Doctor seemed nothing short of sacrilegious.

At length he issued an edict that, for the future, no boy should presume to cut or carve within the school premises. A large board was put up, on the blank polished surface of which were to be recorded in letters of gold the names of such pupils, and such alone, as had done honour to the school. The common herd should henceforth pass away without leaving any mark. The woodwork of the school, like an intramural cemetery, was to serve for no more monuments. So sternly was this command given forth, and so strictly enforced, that for a time the itch of carving was repressed, unless when the prohibition itself proved a challenge for some daring malapert to defy it on the sly.

But here one morning was Isherwood at work with a knife upon the dingy oak-Isherwood of all fellows! who, from the head of the school looked down upon most of his schoolmates too much to share their juvenile weaknesses. How they would have chuckled to see what he was about! But all the rest of the Doctor's boarders were still in bed. Nobody else cared about getting up an hour before the bell rang, as Isherwood did, to have a quiet early spell of work every morning, during what he hoped would be his last term at school. At this hour he had the big schoolroom to himself, and the run of all the dictionaries, commentaries, and what not in the school library, of which, as senior prefect, he kept the key. Isherwood was one of those fellows who like having things to themselves.

He had risen from his books and stood at the window putting a new point to his pen; Isherwood despised steel pens as used by ordinary boys. This done to his satisfaction, he gave himself up to reverie, thinking how often the great poet must have stood on the same spot, and wondering if he, in those days, had ever guessed how famous he was to be throughout the land.

"I daresay his companions thought nothing of him then; and that he knew all along how much he was above them," soliloquized Isherwood, betraying an ambition he had never trusted to unsympathetic ears. "My story shall be the same as his, if only I get a fair chance. And I have a better chance than he ever had. I am bound to win the scholarship. At the University I shall no longer have to do with pig-headed schoolboys who care about nothing but cricket and ices. Then it will soon be seen what I am made of. Once I go out into the world people shall hear of me; and those very numskulls who laugh at me for "fagging," as they call it, will be proud to remember that they were my schoolfellows. Some day the cyclopædias and guide-books will mention how this school turned out me as well as him; and visitors will be shown my name carved beside his."

In the absorption of such a flattering day dream, as he leant against the Block, Isherwood had almost unconsciously been handling his knife, then began hurriedly to hack and scrape the oak not six inches below that sacred relic. For the moment he forgot all about the Doctor's edict: he had been in the sickroom the last time it was renewed, so that he escaped the recent impression made on his school-fellows. But before he had quite finished making a capital I, the getting-up bell startled him into recollection; and he suddenly awoke to a sense of his

enormity. Isherwood was not one to get himself into scrapes with the Doctor; he was too proud for schoolboy disobedience. "I can come here on the last day, when I have gained the scholarship, and finish it," he promised himself.

For the present he did all he could to disguise the presumptuous initial that cried out against him from the time-stained oak. He rubbed dust into the raw scar, he inked it over, he tried the effect of covering it with a cobweb, but it seemed as if he made that tell-tale mark the more noticeable. While busied in these experiments he again got a scare from the opening of the door. It was only the porter's wife coming in to sweep out the school-room, before whom Isherwood now fled guiltily, with the scantest return of her "Good-morning." The porter and his wife had it in charge to report to the Doctor any fresh cutting they might discover on the woodwork; as, indeed, it was a prefect's duty to do, were this one so dutiful as to inform against himself.

Isherwood, sensitive and considerate as he was, had half a mind to go straight to the Doctor and confess what he had done, excusing it on the score of forgetfulness. Had he acted so he would have saved himself and others much vexation, lasting for more than a quarter of a century to come. But shame and fear of discovering his secret ambition withheld him, and he kept his own counsel, in hope that the solitary initial would go unseen, yet his heart sinking every time the Doctor's eye came in danger of falling upon it.

To Isherwood's apprehensive imagination it seemed as if his unlucky handiwork stood out flagrant for all to see, whereas, in truth, it might very well escape notice unless the sun happened to light up the place through the mullioned window. When the porter's wife had apparently overlooked it after several days of scrubbing, another boy might have trusted that the peril was past. But sooner or later must come a severer ordeal, which our conscience-stricken hero had not failed to foresee.

The next time a party of sightseers visited the school the first thing shown them was bound to be the Poet's name; then there, right below it, the porter detected that I, newly carved. To prove his vigilance, or being in a bad humour, perhaps, because these American tourists had warmly shaken hands with him, but offered no tip, he lost not an hour in calling Dr. Rashleigh's attention to the impertinent initial. The Doctor, too, happened to be in an angry mood, because one of the tourists had presumptuously sought an interview with him to express a theory that the Poet had not been born here at all, but at Salem, Massachusetts-an idea that seemed little short of profanity, besides betraying an ignorance positively scandalous. So, when the school met again that afternoon, the very look of its potentate told how the air was charged with a storm to burst on some devoted head.

"There's a row on!" the whisper went round, as the boys heard themselves ordered to keep their places, instead of breaking up into herds, as usual, under the sub-shepherds who should feed them with Latin roots and chopped fragments of Greek. Dr. Rashleigh was commonly a man of few words; and now he came to the point in an unexpected manner.

"Stand up every boy who has a knife in his pocket!"

He might as well have said every boy who had a nose on his face. Staring in surprise, first one, then another rose, then up they came by twos and threes, by whole forms, till all the school were on their feet, except some few here and there who, by good or ill luck, happened for the moment to have no knife about them. But these felt rather uncomfortable, when a keen glance from the Doctor warned them that they might be suspected of playing Ananias in this matter. When all had had a fair chance of searching their consciences and their pockets, he went on :

"I find that this silly trick of cutting and carving has not yet been put a stop to, after all I have said. Since my threats of punishment are lost on you, the best thing I can do is to take away temptation from idle hands. You will all give up your knives, to be kept in my charge till the holidays. The prefect for the week will collect them, beginning at the lowest form. Isherwood, you hear me? Give up your own knife first, by way of example."

Who but Isherwood, indeed, was the prefect on whom this duty fell; and we can well understand how unwillingly he set about it! Impressed as they were by the seriousness of the occasion, many boys could not help a giggle at the awkward and shame-faced manner of his shambling along the desks, receiving their knives, till he had both hands full of them, then

beginning to drop some on the floor, before it occurred to him to stuff them into his pockets, when the second master, taking pity on his embarrassment, supplied him with a mortar-board cap in which to complete the collection.

Such a handing round of the hat was never seen. The boys, taken aback by so extraordinary a demand, hardly thought of evading it. One small tiro, struck with awe, brought forth no less than four knives from his various pockets. It may be that one or two were not so honest. One youthful casuist, there is reason to believe, kept back, yet with doubt and trembling, a knife which was not his own but borrowed; another sharp wit, having his knife in use at the moment of the order, had let the point fall quivering into the floor at his feet, and could honestly claim to have no such thing in his pocket. One big fellow, with a scowl of indignation, clashed down into the heap a wonder of a knife, a perfect pocket tool-box, having at least six blades, besides a corkscrew and a gimlet, which he had bought for himself as a birthday present only the day before yesterday, to lose so soon. His neighbour, with more satisfaction, gave up a wornout implement that had not half an inch of steel left on any of its blades. The rest, more or less grudgingly, were fain to yield their treasures, knives of all shapes and sizes, hornhandled knives, bone-handled knives, mother-of-pearl penknives, blunt knives, sharp knives, rusty knives, till there was a collection of them enough to stock a twenty-ninth century museum; and, Isherwood, in carrying it across the room, clumsily dropped the heavy pile on the floor, giving rise to a fresh titter as he had to sprawl on his knees to pick them together. With red and downcast looks, he at length placed the whole tribute of forfeits before the Doctor, who said drily:

"Good! Now let me not see another knife in the school this term; and I trust no more mischief will be done. There is a proverb about children and fools, much to the purpose." He ended with a commanding gesture, dismissing the classes to their work; then, presently the porter bore away that heap of knives into safe keeping.

Stifling their feelings, the boys sat very quiet all afternoon, yet as sore as serpents whose fangs have been drawn. The only way in which some durst express their resentment was by ostentatiously bothering the assistant-masters to sharpen pencils for them, and such like, even as the Israelites had to go to the Philistines with their axes and plough-shares unfit for service. But when they got out of school the suppressed indignation broke forth; and Isherwood, as agent of this high-handed exaction, had to bear the brunt of it. Prefects were an innovation of Dr. Rashleigh's, who, accustomed to the ways of a large public school, did not make enough allowance for the different tone of a small one, composed chiefly of day boys of different classes, among whom it would be hard for a senior to maintain his authority unless he happened to be a popular or masterful character. Isherwood was anything but popular, so now he must expect to come in for a good deal of sour chaff, mingled with stinging grains of bitterness.

"How did you like stealing our knives?" asked Martin, the owner of that new six-bladed one, who naturally took a lead among the malcontents. "Nice job to be put on a fellow, wasn't it?"

"Was it my fault?" retorted Isherwood, but feebly, for he was too well aware that, in one sense, his fault had been at the bottom of the whole business. And it was no comfort to him that Noyes, his only serious rival for the scholarship, took his part, as became a brother prefect. There were no more than three prefects in this school, who ought to stand together; but Isherwood was in the way of treating Noyes with distant courtesy as a day boy and a druggist's son, as well as a formidable competitor.

"How could he help it?" Noyes protested to the revilers; but added: All the same, I was glad it was your turn to be prefect to-day, and not mine."

"I was sorry for you," laughed another. "He gathered up the knives as gingerly as if they were red hot; and I am sure he would have liked to tell the Doctor to do such dirty work himself. Didn't he look aghast over it?"

"He looked a guy!" said Martin, bluntly. "Well, you may say what you like, but I don't hold with this prefect business." "Wait till you are a prefect yourself," taunted Noyes. "No fear! I hope to get out of this school long before I get that length. You don't catch me currying favour by being the Doctor's detective. What I say is this fellows ought to

stand up for each other and fight it out fairly with the masters."

"How can we fight it out if they steal our steel, the pickpockets?" asked some wag; but Martin was too angry for jesting.

"I should like to let him know what I think of it."

"Well, Isherwood will tell him what you say-that is the duty of a prefect," sneered another.

"Let him tell till he is black in the face. Nobody has a right to rob us of our knives; my father is an alderman, and I am sure he will say so. I vote we don't put up with such tyranny!" "Put it down, Martin; that's right!" laughed the jester. At this point, rather than listen to any more treason, Isherwood turned on his heel and walked away, followed by a hoot from the exasperated mob. This was not needed to make him feel unhappy. Though he professed to look down on these uncongenial companions, he yet felt keenly their dislike for him, sharpened in this case by a grievance for which they had no right to blame him, while he bitterly blamed himself. But how could he confess openly that he, the strict prefect, the Doctor's pet scholar, the senior of the boarders, who formed the aristocracy of the school-that he, of all others, had brought such a misfortune upon the common herd!

"Should I not let the Doctor know all about it?" he asked himself a dozen times, looking on his master as a less severe judge than his schoolfellows; but not even to the Doctor could he find courage to unbosom himself, now that confession had become more difficult and awkward by delay.

But he would surely have scraped up courage had he known what was to come. The Doctor had been rash in trusting that he could wholly unsteel half a hundred schoolboys. There would still be knives in the town, if not in their pockets. It were a labour of Hercules to cut off all the hydra heads of such mischief. Next morning, a fresh cutting appeared on the Block, as if to proclaim "War to the knife!" Where one single "I" had marred the venerable oak, there now flaunted forth a whole name freshly carved in bold letters. And the name wasISHERWOOD.

(To be continued.)

THE TEACHERS' GUILD OF GREAT BRITAIN AND IRELAND.

[By a resolution of the Council, of June 19, 1884, the "Journal of Education" was adopted as the medium of communication among members of the Teachers' Guild; but the "Journal" is in no other sense the organ of the Guild, nor is the Guild in any way responsible for the opinions expressed therein.]

As there have been no meetings of the Council or of Committees since the Council Meeting on July 25 (reported in the August number of the Journal), there are no materials for the composition of a Report this month except the Library announcements.

The shortened hours in the Library and Reading-room will continue till September 5. From September 7 the usual hours will re-com

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LIBRARY.

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