Vivian Grey

he was a fair boy and always blushing; and the rest of the characters found able representatives. Every half-holiday was devoted to rehearsals, and nothing could exceed the amusement and thorough fun

with infinite tact, the said manager conciliated the Classics, for he allowed St. Leger Smith to select a Greek motto, from the Andr

bed in some freshly-imported German commentator that it was a fixed principle with him never to trouble himself with anything that concerned h

establishment of Burnsley Vicarage by Mr. Vivian Grey was, that the ushers were to be considered by the boys as a species of upper servants; were to be treated with civility, certainly, as all servants are by gentlemen; but that no further attention was to be paid them, and that any fellow voluntarily conversing with an usher was to be cut dead by the whole school

. No attempt had been made to keep the fact of the rehearsal a secret from the police; no objection, on their part, had as yet been made; the twelve weeks diminished to six; Ranger had secretly ordered a dress from town, and was to get a steel-handled sword from Fentum’s for Jack Maggot; and everything was proceeding with delightful success, when one morning, as Mr. Dallas was apparently about to take his departure, with a volume of Becker’s Thucydides under his arm, the respected D

e insulting title. Those who were neither Vivian’s friends nor in the secret, weak creatures who side always with the strongest, immediately swelled the insulting chorus of Mr. St. Leger Smith. That worthy, emboldened by his success and the smiles of Mallett, contained himself no longer: “Down with the manager!” he cried. His satellites chorussed. But now Vivian rushed forward. “Mr. Smith, I thank you for being so definite; take that!” and he struck Smith with such force t

and foamed like a furious elephant. For ten successive rounds the result was dubious; but in the eleventh the strength of Smith began to fail him, and the men were more fairly matched. “Go it, Ranger! go it, Ranger!” halloed the Greyites; “No stranger! no stranger!”

nswer ready. I do not quote Scripture lightly, Mr. Grey; but ‘Take hee

elf almost universally shunned. Etherege and Poynings were

what can we do? Dallas says you have the tongue of a serpent, and that he will not trust himself to hear your defence. Infamous shame! I swear! And now every fellow has got a story against you: some say you are a dandy, others want to know whether the

hall see who, in future, can complain of the sweet