Kathleen

. The literary society, named in accordance with the grotesque whim of Oxford undergraduates, consisted of eight members, and it

which was why on this first Sunday of term while the rest of Merton College was a

r Mary Pickford. It was unspoiled by pictures: two or three political maps of Europe, sketchily drawn with coloured crayons, were pinned up here and there. The room was a typical Oxford apartment: dark, a little faded, but redeemed by the grate of glowing coals. Behind the chimney two recessed seats looked out over the colleg

ng up the paper, and realized that he was hungry. His untasted tea and anchovy

even though he had not eaten it. Also there lay somewhat heavily on his mind the fact that at ten the next morning he must read to his tutor an essay on "Danton and Robespierre," an essay as yet unwritten. That would mean a very early rising and an uncomfortable chilly session in the college library, a dismal place in the forenoon. Never mind, first came a jolly evening with the Scorpions. The meetings were always fun, and this

s coming guests. Forbes, like most men of modest means, made it a point of honour to entertain lavishly when it was his turn as host, and the display set out by Hinton made an attractive still life under the droplight. A big bowl of apples and oranges stood in the centre; tin boxes from Huntley and Palmer, a couple of large iced cakes, raisins, nuts, and a dish of candied fruits ended the solids. There was al

ry red and bulby nose, was a garrulous servant, and

you in 'all

"I had some writi

riable formula of college servants. A moment late

ay the towpath will be under

into the adjoining bedroom to pour out a few gallons of very cold water into Forbes's hip bath, to turn down the sheets, lay out his pajamas, and remove a muddy pair of boots to be cleaned. Such are the customs that make sweet the lives of succeeding undergraduates at Oxford. It is pleasant to know that Palmerston, Pitt, Gladstone, A

Hinton, as Forbes put down Belloc an

ng to-

k his departure, after poking up the

of them was of the acknowledged literary successes of the university: their names were not those seen every week in the undergraduate journals. And yet this obscure group, which had drawn together in a spirit of satire, had in it two or three men of real gift. Forbes himself was a man of uncommon vivacity. Small, stocky, with an unruly thatch of yellow hair and a quaintly wry and homely face, he hid his shyness and his brilliancy behind a brusque m

to arrive, and seized the ends of the fires

full-blooded blond, extravagantly facetious in convivial moments, and a mournful brooder in solitude. King, better known as "The Goblin," was a dark, whimsical elf in

d a corner cupboard and drew out a bottle of port. "The universal enthusi

newcomer, flinging open the door without knocking. "I think he'

remarks was to drain a glass of t

e said. "Is this some of the vintag

m, Falstaff," said

only American among the Scorpions. Blair was a Rhodes Scholar whose dulcet Southern drawl and quaint modes of speech were a constant delight

!" cried Forbes

er," said Blair, quoting his

ghing and banter as the men stood round the table or by the fire, lighting pipes and cigarettes, and helping themselves to fruit and cake. Finally, when everyone was set

Forbes. "Brother Scorpions, what is your ple

iamentary conventions. There were no minutes, and the only officer was a secretary who sent

e pipe, declared that no offici

for his delightful paper

e Scorpions disposed themselves to listen. Carter pulled an untidy man

ception; or, as Carter put it, that he was "not simply a George Moore"; but that his amazing writings bore witness throughout to a high and devoted ethical purpose. It is even conjecturable that Carter may have said puribus omnia pura; but if he did so, it

eaf of verses. His rhymes were always full of quaint and elvish humour which was very endearing. His ba

bes had been appointed to begin. A new round of refreshments was d

my head until yesterday. About four o'clock yesterday afternoon I was strolling down the Broad in desperation. You know when there is some hateful task that has to be done, o

his pocket a double sheet

letter, not too intimate, but full of a delicious virgin coyness and reserve. Then a great idea struck me. Why not take the people mentioned in the letter and use them as the

ughter gree

he letter!" c

up solely upon this document. There are to be no characters in the story except those mentioned in the letter, and our ta

hese are

ANCROF

ERHA

er 30

R J

pretty and I do wear ties sometime

een out the last two evenings and have had no time for letters. Yest

I was the cause of your starvation. By the way, I read your latest poem and I don't like it-not t

te to catch the post to-night, so you will have to wait a littl

s, so I must bring his food for him. Dad

, and with

re

ur

HLE

crawl, but th

e followed the rea

y," said Whitney.

it round for examination; "but more than you might think. B

a tie of some kind-probably a scarf with his college or club colours. He's got as far as the plaintive stage: he tells her that he is going without his tea just

ind of stuff, or free verse, or some blither of that sort). She has younger brothers ('the boys') and she helps her mother run the house. I think she likes Joe better than she cares to admit-se

other; probably recently left the '

some kind of night school or gymnasium. Probably an ugl

hing about her except that she

ather. Ha

Graham. "It's an easy run from her

his letter!" said Whitney. There was a general laugh at this. Whitney was over six feet, ro

chapter, Priapus,