The Works of John Dryden, now first collected in eighteen volumes. Volume 07

tor and the arch?ologist some of the most ancient and interesting buildings to be seen in any part of broad England. There was some stir on the banks of the river, for t

husiasm of schoolboys, the prospects of the races. On the banks, gathered near the winning-post, were also t

school resounded along the banks. Hope struggled against hope in every youthful breast; yet it seemed that if the oarsmen of the Western school were to make that final effort for which they were famous, it was now almost too late. But, no! the Western stroke is seen to be calling upon his crew; their flashing blades dip quicker, and yet quicker; they are well together, all apparently animated by the vigou

he boathouse, bathing and changing their clothes. Guy Hardcastle, a strong, well-set-up lad of seventeen, lingers on the platform in conversation with his house-master, Mr. Brimley-Fair, who has come down to congratulate him on his victory. He is a g

he reason of the outcry. Some country people, rowing across from the other side, are evidently not accustomed to boating. Two of them attempt to change places in m

ing off from the bank, but they may be too late. Guy Hardcastle, surveying the disaster with cool eye as he swims that way, has concentrated all his energies on this drowning and terror-stricken girl. He is within fifteen yards of where she sank; and now, a few seconds later, just as the girl, now partly insensible, comes to the surface again, he grasps her firmly, turns her over on her back--a task of some difficulty--and, himself also swimming on his back, tows her towards the bank. It is not an easy

stle," he cries; "cat

boat's gunwale, and feels that he

n," says Mr. Brimley-Fair, "and

er even than that which greeted the winning of the boat race, now testifies to the gallantry of the boy's second feat and the re

dcastle and his burden and lifted them into safety. The girl was pale and insensible, but she breathed; a doctor was quickly in attendance; and after the usual restorative m

ned girl, Mr. Brimley-Fair turned his attention to

to think a bore--and deserve, and I hope will get, the Humane Society's Medal. But, medal or no medal, you did your duty and a brave thing, and we are all proud of you. Now go and get your

ul though shivering. "I shall be quite

down, he was, not long after, clothed and comfortable again, and quite equal to doing his duty by his adv

r. Brimley-Fair; and later on, the Midland crew having been seen of

e lad had few other relatives in England. He had, however, an Uncle Charles, his mother's only brother, living in South Africa, who came home occasionally to England, and to whom he was greatly attached. In fact, next to his father, the lad looked upon his Uncle Charles as his greatest friend. Guy was now a month or two past seventeen. He had been four years at his present school, where he was an immense favourite. Captain of the rowing club, he had not time or opportunity to devote himself

e was undoubtedly all round the most popular boy in the school. He owed not a little of his popularity to his character, which was strong, simple, and always to be relied upon. His schoolfellows knew that he hated meanness and lying; that he was the foe of the bully and the sneak; that the side he took was the side always of truth and honour and duty. In his own hous

lf followed. The fateful news that Guy received came to him one morning in a letter which, by the handwriting, postmark, and stamp, he knew was from his Uncle Charles, in British Bechuanaland. The first few lines read by him as he sat at breakfast turne

H FARM, NE

BECHUA

4, 1

untry from Cape Coast Castle, where, as you know, he was at work opening up a mine. This is a sad blow for us all, more especially for you, who lose your nearest and dearest relative, and one of the best

larial fever which is so fatal on the West Coast. From the last of these he never recovered. In his last two letters to me, which I enclose for your perusal, he seems to have had a foreboding that he would not recover; and in the very last (the few lines in pencil, written the day before his d

at difference in your future prospects. He earned a fairly good income during his life, and had at one time saved considerably more money than he now leaves. Some unfortunate investments, and the very heavy expenses of that patent lawsuit in which he was engaged--trying vainly, as it turne

ife is a hard one, as he points out. A mining engineer has to take his chance in all parts of the world; too often his work is cast in a pestilential climate, and, if he escapes death, his health and constitution are, as often as not, completely ruined by the time he reaches middle age. Your father believed--and rightly, as it turned out--t

sticks to business; and that he is convinced that you, with your open-air inclinations and active habits, would do very well in it. You will have enough to start you fairly when you are ready to take up land of your own. Your father knew, of cour

much. I want you to think over your father's wishes, and give me your own view of what you hope to do with your life. If you wish to stay on another year at school, I will see that the thing shall be managed. If, on the contrary, you desire to come out here to us, and take up the business of stock-farming, I think it will be better to leave after this term. I

u have ever thought of any other line of life. I would remind you, however, that doctoring and the law require a long and expensive apprenticeship of five years at least before you can earn money for yourself; t

l all have the very heartiest welcome for you, and that I shal

ympathy in your heavy loss, and our kindest love,--B

oning that he had been down with fever, had said nothing to his boy of the fears which he had expressed to Mr. Blakeney. Guy could see well enough now, as he read the two last letters, that his father had wished to spare him any anxiety. The perusal of these two letters received by his uncle, and the tidings of his father's death; the remembrances of the happy days that he had had wi

ons from Mr. Brimley-Fair, who had already spoken a few kind words to him, sympathizing in his heavy loss, and telling him he would be prepared to talk ov

e a good father, do what we can. I think you know that I feel with you most sincerely in your trouble. I knew your fat

ngs were too much for him; he could just then say noth

th the knowledge that for the future you have to rely mainly upon your own exertions in the battle which we all have to fight. I have had a long letter from your uncle; it contains very much the same

is master intended he should. He was now

usion I have come to is, that I should prefer above all things to go out to Bechuanaland and joi

to Mr. Brimley-Fair,

ncle says, and you are certainly restricted in your choice of a prof

I know a good deal about, will, I am certain, suit me better than any other occupation. I should like it above all things. Of

horoughly discussed. In the end, all three parties--Miss Hardcastle, Mr. Brimley-Fair, and Guy Hardcastle--agr

the school. In the following September, having chosen his modest kit and belongings, as advised by his Uncle Charles, Guy sailed for Sou