in the middle, was our back-wall; College and its doorway on the right, and the low wall enclosing school steps on the left, with a large bracket projecting from the angle of College, holding a wire-covered gas-lamp. The cut line was very high. The favourite stroke in this court was to send the ball over the angle on the school side, so as to pitch near the school steps, and it was a pretty stroke to return it. The scoring was the same as for wire racquets; College door was a 'let.' There was no ball - fagging for wooden racquets.

When playing at either wire or wooden racquets, you were always liable to be turned out if a boy senior to all playing turned up, with three other players at his back; but this was seldom done except at the end of the game, and if done before was considered bad form. Small boys were allowed to 'knock up' against the intervening wall between the courts, but had to keep out of the light'-i.e., out of the way.

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Balls and racquets, when ordered, were supplied by an old gentleman called 'Ballman'; like most of our attendants, he was not dignified with a surname. He had a thin, wizened face, rather shambly legs, always carried a white canvas bag, and his favourite stand was beside the ball-fag. We liked our wire racquets made rather straight below, and with a high bow above the hand, for the cut stroke.

Little Dean's Yard was also the scene of sliding in the winter. All the side next the dormitory was flagged, from Weare's steps to the entrance of the Little Cloisters. On frosty evenings the juniors in

College were made to bring out can after can full of hot water, from some College boiler, which was poured down some 5 or 6 yards from Weare's steps, and allowed to find its way past the school steps to the cloisters, so that you could almost slide into the cloisters. Fancy sliding was in fashion: 'the tea-pot,' squatting close to the ice on one leg, with one leg out as the spout, and one arm akimbo as the handle; the postman's knock,' sliding on one foot and knocking with the other; and other tricks.

Skating could also be got in St. James's Park or on the Serpentine on Saturdays, but you had to get leave 'up town' to go there. One of the Minor Canons of the Abbey, Antrobus by name, was a beautiful skater. I have often watched him performing on the Serpentine, skating in the crack set, in a tall black hat and a tightly-buttoned tail-coat; he seemed to live on the 'outside edge backwards.'

Before closing this short chapter, I must give an account of a slight 'fratch '*-as we call it in Westmorland—or row, between me and the captain of the school, which occurred shortly before I left. I was playing wooden racquets in the court by Stoker's hole,' when the captain came out of College, with a racquet in his hand, and claimed the court.

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He was perhaps within his rights, but he did it in a supercilious way. I was then either in the Upper Shell or Sixth Form, and rowed in, if I was not captain of, the eight. I could not stand it, so defied the laws,

* 'Fratch' is evidently derived from frango, a breach of the peace.

and hit him a good smack a tergo with my wooden racquet. He retired into College.

The fat was in the fire! The old Collegers v. Town Boys jealousy flared up, and there was a talk of seizing me and taking me up College for a tanning. I, however, had many friends among the watermen in College, and all the town boys with me, and they thought better of that plan. Then they talked of reporting to the Headmaster, but that fell through. Then I was asked to apologize; this I refused to do. Finally the flames fizzled out, but there was no love lost between the captain and myself.

CHAPTER XIII

FESTIVALS AND FIGHTS

The Pancake Grease-St. David's Day-Ditch-leaping—' Mills' in 'green.'

LET me speak next of the great festa of Shrove Tuesday, the time-honoured custom of Tossing the Pancake, and the Pancake Grease. In those days poor Dean Buckland was an invalid, and the traditional sovereign, presented by the Dean to the winner of the pancake, was presented by Lord John Thynne, the Subdean, in his place.

During my stay at Westminster, six and a quarter years, the whole pancake was only once secured and the sovereign claimed, and if I describe that 'grease' it will give a good idea of the 'greases' of the olden time.

Shrove Tuesday was always the day for the 'grease'; there was an early play' on that day. No school after breakfast, and no Abbey to follow.

The whole school were supposed to be in their several places behind the desks, the masters all gathered together at the upper end of the school. The doors of school were thrown open, and a pro[ 158 ]

cession of two entered: a verger of the Abbey, bearing his silver mace, with the arms of Westminster on the top, commonly called his holy poker'; followed by the College cook, Tolfrey by name, in correct white costume, flat white cap and apron, with frying-pan in hand, containing a large pancake. The pancake was of peculiar formation, about half an inch thick, and kneaded up with any amount of horsehair to give it consistency.

The cook took his stand a few paces below the great iron bar which divided the school in half. By this time all the school were crowding down the benches to the point where the pancake might be expected to fall. A signal was given, the cook measured his distance, and with a swing of the arm sent the pancake flying over the bar. If he missed his shot he was booked '-i.e., had books thrown at him-but I never saw that occur. Then the whole school broke loose, and rushed to catch the pancake as it fell, or to grab it on the floor. Then for ten minutes or so there was a whirling mass of struggling lads, which gradually subsided, when in general little or nothing of the pancake remained; and if not secured practically whole no sovereign could be claimed.

Now I think it was in 1852-the 'third election' men, Twiss's election,' happened to be a strong, heavy lot, and, headed by Alfred Slade, they planned to get the pancake. Their idea was to secure places by the monitors' table, where there was an exit from the side-benches, near the place where the pancake