“Yes,” replied Fadmonger; “it worries me a good deal. I have almost resolved to give up the rest of my lectures for the Term, and go to the Riviera for a complete change. . . .
“No,” he continued, after a pause, “there is nothing to be hoped from the College Tutor. Obscurantist he is, and obscurantist he will remain:
he is our great impediment to serious study—study, that is, of anything except so-called classical texts. It is to the young student that we must look for salvation. Do you know young Frawde of my College? I have had most interesting talks with him—a really able man, but of course quite misunderstood by his tutors: able men always are.”
“He is, I suppose,” said I, “reading for a Final Honour School.”
“Of course he is doing nothing of the kind,” Fadmonger replied with some warmth. “In the present degraded condition of Honour Greats it is quite unworthy of a serious student. He is at present preparing to take a pass degree: and after that he thinks of going abroad to devote himself seriously to a course of Tymborychology. A most interesting young man, with admirably sound ideas on the present state of the Schools. . . .”
* * * * *
It happens that I know Frawde: and when I next met him I commented with some surprise on his new departure. Frawde was quite candid, and said it had been necessary to do something in order to patch up his much-ploughed character before Collections. He had been plausible, and Fadmonger credulous.
“And really, you know, the Fadder wasn’t half a bad chap”—he had given Frawde a recommendation to read in the Bodder—“and I am going there too,” said the serious student, “as soon as I can find out where it is: but nobody seems to know. After all, lots of chaps go abroad after their degraggers: why shouldn’t I have a spade and dig in Egypt or Mesopotamia or somewhere, same as anybody else? Eh?”
And, upon my word, I really don’t see why he shouldn’t.