"The
Holy Supper is kept indeed,
In whatso we share with another's need
Not that which we give, but what we share,
For the gift without the giver is bare.
Who bestows himself with his alms feeds three,
Himself, his hungering neighbour and Me."
—LOWELL, The Vision of Sir Launfal.
The next morning,
after breakfast, Tom, East,
and Gower met as
usual to learn their second
lesson together. Tom had been
considering how to break his
proposal of giving up the crib
to the others, and having found
no better way (as indeed none
better can ever be found by
man or boy), told them simply
what had happened; how he had
been to see Arthur, who had
talked to him upon the subject,
and what he had said, and for
his part he had made up his
mind, and wasn't going to use
cribs any more; and not being
quite sure of his ground, took
the high and pathetic tone,
and was proceeding to say "how
that, having learnt his lessons
with them for so many years,
it would grieve him much to
put an end to the arrangement,
and he hoped, at any rate,
that if they wouldn't go on
with him, they should still
be just as good friends, and
respect one another's motives;
but - "
Here the other boys, who had
been listening with open eyes
and ears, burst in, -
"Stuff and nonsense!" cried
Gower. "Here, East, get
down the crib and find the
place."
"O Tommy, Tommy!" said
East, proceeding to do as he
was bidden, "that it should
ever have come to this! I knew
Arthur'd be the ruin of you
some day, and you of me. And
now the time's come." And
he made a doleful face.
"I don't know about ruin," answered
Tom; "I know that you
and I would have had the sack
long ago if it hadn't been
for him. And you know it as
well as I."
"Well,
we were in a baddish way
before he came, I own;
but this new crotchet of his
is past a joke."
"Let's
give it a trial, Harry; come.
You know how often
he has been right and we wrong."
"Now, don't you two be
jawing away about young Square-toes," struck
in Gower. "He's no end
of a sucking wiseacre, I dare
say; but we've no time to lose,
and I've got the fives court
at half-past nine."
"I say, Gower," said
Tom appealingly, "be a
good fellow, and let's try
if we can't get on without
the crib."
"What!
in this chorus? Why, we shan't
get through
ten lines."
"I say, Tom," cried
East, having hit on a new idea, "don't
you remember, when we were
in the upper fourth, and old
Momus caught me construing
off the leaf of a crib which
I'd torn out and put in my
book, and which would float
out on to the floor, he sent
me up to be flogged for it?"
"Yes,
I remember it very well."
"Well,
the Doctor, after he'd flogged
me, told me himself
that he didn't flog me for
using a translation, but for
taking it in to lesson, and
using it there when I hadn't
learnt a word before I came
in. He said there was no harm
in using a translation to get
a clue to hard passages, if
you tried all you could first
to make them out without."
"Did he, though?" said
Tom; "then Arthur must
be wrong,"
"Of course he is," said
Gower - "the little prig.
We'll only use the crib when
we can't construe without it.
- Go ahead, East."
And on this agreement they
started - Tom, satisfied with
having made his confession,
and not sorry to have a locus
penitentiae, and not to be
deprived altogether of the
use of his old and faithful
friend.
The boys went
on as usual, each taking
a sentence in turn,
and the crib being handed to
the one whose turn it was to
construe. Of course Tom couldn't
object to this, as, was it
not simply lying there to be
appealed to in case the sentence
should prove too hard altogether
for the construer? But it must
be owned that Gower and East
did not make very tremendous
exertions to conquer their
sentences before having recourse
to its help. Tom, however,
with the most heroic virtue
and gallantry, rushed into
his sentence, searching in
a high-minded manner for nominative
and verb, and turning over
his dictionary frantically
for the first hard word that
stopped him. But in the meantime
Gower, who was bent on getting
to fives, would peep quietly
into the crib, and then suggest, "Don't
you think this is the meaning?" "I
think you must take it this
way, Brown." And as Tom
didn't see his way to not profiting
by these suggestions, the lesson
went on about as quickly as
usual, and Gower was able to
start for the fives court within
five minutes of the half-hour.
When Tom and East were left
face to face, they looked at
one another for a minute, Tom
puzzled, and East chokefull
of fun, and then burst into
a roar of laughter.
"Well, Tom," said
East, recovering himself, "I
don t see any objection to
the new way. It's about as
good as the old one, I think,
besides the advantage it gives
one of feeling virtuous, and
looking down on one's neighbours."
Tom shoved
his hand into his back hair. "I ain't so
sure," said he; "you
two fellows carried me off
my legs. I don't think we really
tried one sentence fairly.
Are you sure you remember what
the Doctor said to you?"
"Yes. And I'll swear
I couldn't make out one of
my sentences to-day - no, nor
ever could. I really don't
remember," said East,
speaking slowly and impressively, "to
have come across one Latin
or Greek sentence this half
that I could go and construe
by the light of nature. Whereby
I am sure Providence intended
cribs to be used."
"The thing to find out," said
Tom meditatively, "is
how long one ought to grind
at a sentence without looking
at the crib. Now I think if
one fairly looks out all the
words one don't know, and then
can't hit it, that's enough."
"To be sure, Tommy," said
East demurely, but with a merry
twinkle in his eye. "Your
new doctrine too, old fellow," added
he, "when one comes to
think of it, is a cutting at
the root of all school morality.
You'll take away mutual help,
brotherly love, or, in the
vulgar tongue, giving construes,
which I hold to be one of our
highest virtues. For how can
you distinguish between getting
a construe from another boy
and using a crib? Hang it,
Tom, if you're going to deprive
all our school-fellows of the
chance of exercising Christian
benevolence and being good
Samaritans, I shall cut the
concern."
"I wish
you wouldn't joke about it,
Harry; it's
hard enough to see one's way
- a precious sight harder than
I thought last night. But I
suppose there's a use and an
abuse of both, and one'll get
straight enough somehow. But
you can't make out, anyhow,
that one has a right to use
old vulgus-books and copy-
books."
"Hullo,
more heresy! How fast a fellow
goes downhill
when he once gets his head
before his legs. Listen to
me, Tom. Not use old vulgus-books!
Why, you Goth, ain't we to
take the benefit of the wisdom
and admire and use the work
of past generations? Not use
old copy-books! Why, you might
as well say we ought to pull
down Westminster Abbey, and
put up a go-to-meeting shop
with churchwarden windows;
or never read Shakespeare,
but only Sheridan Knowles.
Think of all the work and labour
that our predecessors have
bestowed on these very books;
and are we to make their work
of no value?"
"I say,
Harry, please don't chaff;
I'm really serious."
"And then, is it not
our duty to consult the pleasure
of others rather than our own,
and above all, that of our
masters? Fancy, then, the difference
to them in looking over a vulgus
which has been carefully touched
and retouched by themselves
and others, and which must
bring them a sort of dreamy
pleasure, as if they'd met
the thought or expression of
it somewhere or another —before
they were born perhaps - and
that of cutting up, and making
picture-frames round all your
and my false quantities, and
other monstrosities. Why, Tom,
you wouldn't be so cruel as
never to let old Momus hum
over the 'O genus humanum'
again, and then look up doubtingly
through his spectacles, and
end by smiling and giving three
extra marks for it - just for
old sake's sake, I suppose."
"Well," said Tom,
getting up in something as
like a huff as he was capable
of, "it's deuced hard
that when a fellow's really
trying to do what he ought,
his best friends'll do nothing
but chaff him and try to put
him down." And he stuck
his books under his arm and
his hat on his head, preparatory
to rushing out into the quadrangle,
to testify with his own soul
of the faithlessness of friendships.
"Now don't be an ass,
Tom," said East, catching
hold of him; "you know
me well enough by this time;
my bark's worse than my bite.
You can't expect to ride your
new crotchet without anybody's
trying to stick a nettle under
his tail and make him kick
you off - especially as we
shall all have to go on foot
still. But now sit down, and
let's go over it again. I'll
be as serious as a judge."
Then Tom sat
himself down on the table,
and waxed eloquent
about all the righteousnesses
and advantages of the new plan,
as was his wont whenever he
took up anything, going into
it as if his life depended
upon it, and sparing no abuse
which he could think of, of
the opposite method, which
he denounced as ungentlemanly,
cowardly, mean, lying, and
no one knows what besides. "Very
cool of Tom," as East
thought, but didn't say, "seeing
as how he only came out of
Egypt himself last night at
bedtime."
"Well, Tom," said
he at last, "you see,
when you and I came to school
there were none of these sort
of notions. You may be right
- I dare say you are. Only
what one has always felt about
the masters is, that it's a
fair trial of skill and last
between us and them - like
a match at football or a battle.
We're natural enemies in school
- that's the fact. We've got
to learn so much Latin and
Greek, and do so many verses,
and they've got to see that
we do it. If we can slip the
collar and do so much less
without getting caught, that's
one to us. If they can get
more out of us, or catch us
shirking, that's one to them.
All's fair in war but lying.
If I run my luck against theirs,
and go into school without
looking at my lessons, and
don't get called up, why am
I a snob or a sneak? I don't
tell the master I've learnt
it. He's got to find out whether
I have or not. What's he paid
for? If he calls me up and
I get floored, he makes me
write it out in Greek and English.
Very good. He's caught me,
and I don't grumble. I grant
you, if I go and snivel to
him, and tell him I've really
tried to learn it, but found
it so hard without a translation,
or say I've had a toothache,
or any humbug of that kind,
I'm a snob. That's my school
morality; it's served me, and
you too, Tom, for the matter
of that, these five years.
And it's all clear and fair,
no mistake about it. We understand
it, and they understand it,
and I don't know what we're
to come to with any other."
Tom looked at him pleased
and a little puzzled. He had
never heard East speak his
mind seriously before, and
couldn't help feeling how completely
he had hit his own theory and
practice up to that time.
"Thank you, old fellow," said
he. "You're a good old
brick to be serious, and not
put out with me. I said more
than I meant, I dare say, only
you see I know I'm right. Whatever
you and Gower and the rest
do, I shall hold on. I must.
And as it's all new and an
uphill game, you see, one must
hit hard and hold on tight
at first."
"Very good," said
East; "hold on and hit
away, only don't hit under
the line."
"But
I must bring you over, Harry,
or I shan't be
comfortable. Now, I'll allow
all you've said. We've always
been honourable enemies with
the masters. We found a state
of war when we came, and went
into it of course. Only don't
you think things are altered
a good deal? I don't feel as
I used to the masters. They
seem to me to treat one quite
differently."
"Yes, perhaps they do," said
East; "there's a new set
you see, mostly, who don't
feel sure of themselves yet.
They don't want to fight till
they know the ground."
"I don't think it's only
that," said Tom. "And
then the Doctor, he does treat
one so openly, and like a gentleman,
and as if one was working with
him."
"Well, so he does," said
East; "he's a splendid
fellow, and when I get into
the sixth I shall act accordingly.
Only you know he has nothing
to do with our lessons now,
except examining us. I say,
though," looking at his
watch, "it's just the
quarter. Come along."
As they walked out they got
a message, to say that Arthur
was just starting, and would
like to say goodbye. So they
went down to the private entrance
of the School-house, and found
an open carriage, with Arthur
propped up with pillows in
it, looking already better,
Tom thought.
They jumped up on to the steps
to shake hands with him, and
Tom mumbled thanks for the
presents he had found in his
study, and looked round anxiously
for Arthur's mother.
East, who had fallen back
into his usual humour, looked
quaintly at Arthur, and said,
-
"So you've
been at it again, through
that hot-headed
convert of yours there. He's
been making our lives a burden
to us all the morning about
using cribs. I shall get floored
to a certainty at second lesson,
if I'm called up."
Arthur blushed and looked
down. Tom struck in, -
"Oh,
it's all right. He's converted
already; he
always comes through the mud
after us, grumbling and sputtering."
The clock struck, and they
had to go off to school, wishing
Arthur a pleasant holiday,
Tom, lingering behind a moment
to send his thanks and love
to Arthur's mother.
Tom renewed the discussion
after second lesson, and succeeded
so far as to get East to promise
to give the new plan a fair
trial.
Encouraged
by his success, in the evening,
when they were
sitting alone in the large
study, where East lived now
almost, "vice Arthur on
leave," after examining
the new fishing-rod, which
both pronounced to be the genuine
article ("play enough
to throw a midge tied on a
single hair against the wind,
and strength enough to hold
a grampus"), they naturally
began talking about Arthur.
Tom, who was still bubbling
over with last night's scene
and all the thoughts of the
last week, and wanting to clinch
and fix the whole in his own
mind, which he could never
do without first going through
the process of belabouring
somebody else with it all,
suddenly rushed into the subject
of Arthur's illness, and what
he had said about death.
East had given
him the desired opening.
After a serio-comic
grumble, "that life wasn't
worth having, now they were
tied to a young beggar who
was always 'raising his standard;'
and that he, East, was like
a prophet's donkey, who was
obliged to struggle on after
the donkey-man who went after
the prophet; that he had none
of the pleasure of starting
the new crotchets, and didn't
half understand them, but had
to take the kicks and carry
the luggage as if he had all
the fun," he threw his
legs up on to the sofa, and
put his hands behind his head,
and said, -
"Well, after all, he's
the most wonderful little fellow
I ever came across. There ain't
such a meek, humble boy in
the school. Hanged if I don't
think now, really, Tom, that
he believes himself a much
worse fellow than you or I,
and that he don't think he
has more influence in the house
than Dot Bowles, who came last
quarter, and isn't ten yet.
But he turns you and me round
his little finger, old boy
- there's no mistake about
that." And East nodded
at Tom sagaciously.
"Now or never!" thought
Tom; so, shutting his eyes
and hardening his heart, he
went straight at it, repeating
all that Arthur had said, as
near as he could remember it,
in the very words, and all
he had himself thought. The
life seemed to ooze out of
it as he went on, and several
times he felt inclined to stop,
give it all up, and change
the subject. But somehow he
was borne on; he had a necessity
upon him to speak it all out,
and did so. At the end he looked
at East with some anxiety,
and was delighted to see that
that young gentleman was thoughtful
and attentive. The fact is,
that in the stage of his inner
life at which Tom had lately
arrived, his intimacy with
and friendship for East could
not have lasted if he had not
made him aware of, and a sharer
in, the thoughts that were
beginning to exercise him.
Nor indeed could the friendship
have lasted if East had shown
no sympathy with these thoughts;
so that it was a great relief
to have unbosomed himself,
and to have found that his
friend could listen.
Tom had always had a sort
of instinct that East's levity
was only skin-deep, and this
instinct was a true one. East
had no want of reverence for
anything he felt to be real;
but his was one of those natures
that burst into what is generally
called recklessness and impiety
the moment they feel that anything
is being poured upon them for
their good which does not come
home to their inborn sense
of right, or which appeals
to anything like self-interest
in them. Daring and honest
by nature, and outspoken to
an extent which alarmed all
respectabilities, with a constant
fund of animal health and spirits
which he did not feel bound
to curb in any way, he had
gained for himself with the
steady part of the school (including
as well those who wished to
appear steady as those who
really were so) the character
of a boy with whom it would
be dangerous to be intimate;
while his own hatred of everything
cruel, or underhand, or false,
and his hearty respect for
what he would see to be good
and true, kept off the rest.
Tom, besides being very like
East in many points of character,
had largely developed in his
composition the capacity for
taking the weakest side. This
is not putting it strongly
enough: it was a necessity
with him; he couldn't help
it any more than he could eating
or drinking. He could never
play on the strongest side
with any heart at football
or cricket, and was sure to
make friends with any boy who
was unpopular, or down on his
luck.
Now, though East was not what
is generally called unpopular,
Tom felt more and more every
day, as their characters developed,
that he stood alone, and did
not make friends among their
contemporaries, and therefore
sought him out. Tom was himself
much more popular, for his
power of detecting humbug was
much less acute, and his instincts
were much more sociable. He
was at this period of his life,
too, largely given to taking
people for what they gave themselves
out to be; but his singleness
of heart, fearlessness, and
honesty were just what East
appreciated, and thus the two
had been drawn into great intimacy.
This intimacy had not been
interrupted by Tom's guardianship
of Arthur.
East had often, as has been
said, joined them in reading
the Bible; but their discussions
had almost always turned upon
the characters of the men and
women of whom they read, and
not become personal to themselves.
In fact, the two had shrunk
from personal religious discussion,
not knowing how it might end,
and fearful of risking a friendship
very dear to both, and which
they felt somehow, without
quite knowing why, would never
be the same, but either tenfold
stronger or sapped at its foundation,
after such a communing together.
What a bother all this explaining
is! I wish we could get on
without it. But we can't. However,
you'll all find, if you haven't
found it out already, that
a time comes in every human
friendship when you must go
down into the depths of yourself,
and lay bare what is there
to your friend, and wait in
fear for his answer. A few
moments may do it; and it may
be (most likely will be, as
you are English boys) that
you will never do it but once.
But done it must be, if the
friendship is to be worth the
name. You must find what is
there, at the very root and
bottom of one another's hearts;
and if you are at one there,
nothing on earth can or at
least ought to sunder you.
East had remained
lying down until Tom finished
speaking,
as if fearing to interrupt
him; he now sat up at the table,
and leant his head on one hand,
taking up a pencil with the
other, and working little holes
with it in the table-cover.
After a bit he looked up, stopped
the pencil, and said, "Thank
you very much, old fellow.
There's no other boy in the
house would have done it for
me but you or Arthur. I can
see well enough," he went
on, after a pause, "all
the best big fellows look on
me with suspicion; they think
I'm a devil-may-care, reckless
young scamp. So I am - eleven
hours out of twelve, but not
the twelfth. Then all of our
contemporaries worth knowing
follow suit, of course: we're
very good friends at games
and all that, but not a soul
of them but you and Arthur
ever tried to break through
the crust, and see whether
there was anything at the bottom
of me; and then the bad ones
I won't stand and they know
that."
"Don't
you think that's half fancy,
Harry?"
"Not a bit of it," said
East bitterly, pegging away
with his pencil. "I see
it all plain enough. Bless
you, you think everybody's
as straightforward and kindhearted
as you are."
"Well,
but what's the reason of
it? There must be
a reason. You can play all
the games as well as any one
and sing the best song, and
are the best company in the
house. You fancy you're not
liked, Harry. It's all fancy."
"I only
wish it was, Tom. I know
I could be popular
enough with all the bad ones,
but that I won't have, and
the good ones won't have me."
"Why not?" persisted
Tom; "you don't drink
or swear, or get out at night;
you never bully, or cheat at
lessons. If you only showed
you liked it, you'd have all
the best fellows in the house
running after you."
"Not I," said East.
Then with an effort he went
on, "I'll tell you what
it is. I never stop the Sacrament.
I can see, from the Doctor
downwards, how that tells against
me."
"Yes, I've seen that," said
Tom, "and I've been very
sorry for it, and Arthur and
I have talked about it. I've
often thought of speaking to
you, but it's so hard to begin
on such subjects. I'm very
glad you've opened it. Now,
why don't you?"
"I've never been confirmed," said
East.
"Not been confirmed!" said
Tom, in astonishment. "I
never thought of that. Why
weren't you confirmed with
the rest of us nearly three
years ago? I always thought
you'd been confirmed at home."
"No," answered East
sorrowfully; "you see
this was how it happened. Last
Confirmation was soon after
Arthur came, and you were so
taken up with him I hardly
saw either of you. Well, when
the Doctor sent round for us
about it, I was living mostly
with Green's set. You know
the sort. They all went in.
I dare say it was all right,
and they got good by it; I
don't want to judge them. Only
all I could see of their reasons
drove me just the other way.
'Twas 'because the Doctor liked
it;' 'no boy got on who didn't
stay the Sacrament;' it was
the 'correct thing,' in fact,
like having a good hat to wear
on Sundays. I couldn't stand
it. I didn't feel that I wanted
to lead a different life. I
was very well content as I
was, and I wasn't going to
sham religious to curry favour
with the Doctor, or any one
else."
East stopped speaking, and
pegged away more diligently
than ever with his pencil.
Tom was ready to cry. He felt
half sorry at first that he
had been confirmed himself.
He seemed to have deserted
his earliest friend - to have
left him by himself at his
worst need for those long years.
He got up and went and sat
by East, and put his arm over
his shoulder.
"Dear old boy," he
said, "how careless and
selfish I've been. But why
didn't you come and talk to
Arthur and me?"
"I wish to Heaven I had," said
East, "but I was a fool.
It's too late talking of it
now."
"Why
too late? You want to be
confirmed now, don't
you?"
"I think so," said
East. "I've thought about
it a good deal; only, often
I fancy I must be changing,
because I see it's to do me
good here - just what stopped
me last time. And then I go
back again."
"I'll tell you now how
'twas with me," said Tom
warmly. "If it hadn't
been for Arthur, I should have
done just as you did. I hope
I should. I honour you for
it. But then he made it out
just as if it was taking the
weak side before all the world
- going in once for all against
everything that's strong and
rich, and proud and respectable,
a little band of brothers against
the whole world. And the Doctor
seemed to say so too, only
he said a great deal more."
"Ah!" groaned East, "but
there again, that's just another
of my difficulties whenever
I think about the matter. I
don't want to be one of your
saints, one of your elect,
whatever the right phrase is.
My sympathies are all the other
way - with the many, the poor
devils who run about the streets
and don't go to church. Don't
stare, Tom; mind, I'm telling
you all that's in my heart
- as far as I know it - but
it's all a muddle. You must
be gentle with me if you want
to land me. Now I've seen a
deal of this sort of religion;
I was bred up in it, and I
can't stand it. If nineteen-twentieths
of the world are to be left
to uncovenanted mercies, and
that sort of thing, which means
in plain English to go to hell,
and the other twentieth are
to rejoice at it all, why - "
"Oh! but, Harry, they
ain't, they don't," broke
in Tom, really shocked. "Oh,
how I wish Arthur hadn't gone!
I'm such a fool about these
things. But it's all you want
too, East; it is indeed. It
cuts both ways somehow, being
confirmed and taking the Sacrament.
It makes you feel on the side
of all the good and all the
bad too, of everybody in the
world. Only there's some great
dark strong power, which is
crushing you and everybody
else. That's what Christ conquered,
and we've got to fight. What
a fool I am! I can't explain.
If Arthur were only here!"
"I begin to get a glimmering
of what you mean," said
East.
"I say, now," said
Tom eagerly, "do you remember
how we both hated Flashman?"
"Of course I do," said
East; "I hate him still.
What then?"
"Well,
when I came to take the Sacrament,
I had a
great struggle about that.
I tried to put him out of my
head; and when I couldn't do
that, I tried to think of him
as evil - as something that
the Lord who was loving me
hated, and which I might hate
too. But it wouldn't do. I
broke down; I believe Christ
Himself broke me down. And
when the Doctor gave me the
bread and wine, and leant over
me praying, I prayed for poor
Flashman, as if it had been
you or Arthur."
East buried
his face in his hands on
the table. Tom could
feel the table tremble. At
last he looked up. "Thank
you again, Tom," said
he; "you don't know what
you may have done for me to-
night. I think I see now how
the right sort of sympathy
with poor devils is got at."
"And you'll stop the
Sacrament next time, won't
you?" said Tom.
"Can
I, before I'm confirmed?"
"Go and
ask the Doctor."
"I will."
That very
night, after prayers, East
followed the Doctor, and
the old verger bearing the
candle, upstairs. Tom watched,
and saw the Doctor turn round
when he heard footsteps following
him closer than usual, and
say, "Hah, East! Do you
want to speak to me, my man?"
"If you please, sir." And
the private door closed, and
Tom went to his study in a
state of great trouble of mind.
It was almost an hour before
East came back. Then he rushed
in breathless.
"Well, it's all right," he
shouted, seizing Tom by the
hand. "I feel as if a
ton weight were off my mind."
"Hurrah," said Tom. "I
knew it would be; but tell
us all about it."
"Well, I just told him
all about it. You can't think
how kind and gentle he was,
the great grim man, whom I've
feared more than anybody on
earth. When I stuck, he lifted
me just as if I'd been a little
child. And he seemed to know
all I'd felt, and to have gone
through it all. And I burst
out crying - more than I've
done this five years; and he
sat down by me, and stroked
my head; and I went blundering
on, and told him all - much
worse things than I've told
you. And he wasn't shocked
a bit, and didn't snub me,
or tell me I was a fool, and
it was all nothing but pride
or wickedness, though I dare
say it was. And he didn't tell
me not to follow out my thoughts,
and he didn't give me any cut-and-dried
explanation. But when I'd done
he just talked a bit. I can
hardly remember what he said
yet; but it seemed to spread
round me like healing, and
strength, and light, and to
bear me up, and plant me on
a rock, where I could hold
my footing and fight for myself.
I don't know what to do, I
feel so happy. And it's all
owing to you, dear old boy!" And
he seized Tom's hand again.
"And you're to come to
the Communion?" said Tom.
"Yes,
and to be confirmed in the
holidays."
Tom's delight was as great
as his friend's. But he hadn't
yet had out all his own talk,
and was bent on improving the
occasion: so he proceeded to
propound Arthur's theory about
not being sorry for his friends'
deaths, which he had hitherto
kept in the background, and
by which he was much exercised;
for he didn't feel it honest
to take what pleased him, and
throw over the rest, and was
trying vigorously to persuade
himself that he should like
all his best friends to die
off-hand.
But East's powers of remaining
serious were exhausted, and
in five minutes he was saying
the most ridiculous things
he could think of, till Tom
was almost getting angry again.
Despite of
himself, however, he couldn't
help laughing and
giving it up, when East appealed
to him with, "Well, Tom,
you ain't going to punch my
head, I hope, because I insist
upon being sorry when you got
to earth?"
And so their talk finished
for that time, and they tried
to learn first lesson, with
very poor success, as appeared
next morning, when they were
called up and narrowly escaped
being floored, which ill-luck,
however, did not sit heavily
on either of their souls.
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