It was a school of grown-up schoolboys ; no doubt a 

 hard one, but it had its playground side, and it was 

 the habit of the school to ' drop on to ' any breach 

 of the unwritten laws, to * rub in ' with remorseless 

 good humour the mistakes that were made, and to play 

 upon credulity with a shamelessness and nerve quite 

 paralysing to the judgment of the inexperienced. 

 Yet, with it all, there was a kindliness and quick instinct 

 of ' fair doos ' which tempered the wind and, in the 

 main, gave no one more than was good for him. 



There the new boy had to run the gauntlet, and, if 

 without a watchful instinct or a friendly hint, there 

 was nothing to warn him of it. When Faulkner- 

 dragged to the piano protested that he remembered 

 nothing but a mere l morceau,' he was not conscious 

 of transgression, but a delighted audience caught up 

 the word, and thenceforth he was known only as 



* Ankore ' Harry the Sailor having explained that 



* more so ' was a recognised variant. 



' Johnny-come-lately's got to learn " was held 

 to be adequate reason for letting many a beginner 

 buy his experience, while those who had been through 

 it all watched him stumble into the well-known pit- 

 falls. It would no doubt have been a much more com- 

 fortable arrangement all round had there been a polite 

 ignoring of each other's blunders and absurdities. 

 But that is not the way of schools where the spirit 

 of fun plays its useful part ; and, after all, the lesson 

 well * rubbed in ' is well remembered. 



The new assayer, primed by us with tales of Sable 

 Antelope round Macmac Camp, shot old Jim Hill's 



16 



