“The more the better, sir,” said Alfred.
Dr. Eskell then asked him to describe minutely, and in order, all he had done since seven o'clock that day. And he did it. Examined him in the multiplication table. And he did it. And, while he was applying these old-fashioned tests, Wycherley's face wore an expression of pity that was truly comical. Now this Dr. Eskell had an itch for the classics: so he went on to say, “You have been a scholar, I hear.”
“I am not old enough to be a scholar, sir,” said Alfred; “but I am a student.”
“Well, well; now can you tell me what follows this line—
“Jusque datum sceleri canimus populuinque potentem'?”
“Why, not at the moment.”
“Oh, surely you can,” said Dr. Eskell ironically. “It is in a tolerably well-known passage. Come, try.”
“Well, I'll try,” said Alfred, sneering secretly. “Let me see—
'Mum—mum—mum—populumque potentem,
In sua victrici conversum viscera dextra.'”
“Quite right; now go on, if you can.”