The bell once more, and the rush of students into the dining-hall in search of the warmth that a couple of cups of steaming hot coffee, fresh from the tall block-tin urns, would afford.
The students assembled at the two long boards, and looked strikingly like so many schoolboys of a larger growth; there was the sharp rapping of a knife-handle upon a little square table in one corner, the rustling noise of a hundred men rising to their feet, grace spoken by the vice-principal, in a rich mellifluous voice, followed by a choral “Amen” from all present, and then the rattling of coffee cups and the buzz of conversation, as the great subject of the day—the examination—was discussed, more than one intimating in a subdued voice that it was a shame that there should have been any lecture on such a morning as this.
Breakfast at an end, there was the regular rush again, schoolboy like, out into the passage, where a knot of students gathered round one of the masters, who was giving a word or two of advice.
“Ah, Ross,” he said, smiling, “I have been saying now what I ought to have said before breakfast, that no man should eat much when he is going in for his examination. Brain grows sluggish when stomach is full.”
“I’m afraid we have all been too anxious to eat much, sir,” replied Ross.
“I’m sure you have, Ross; but don’t overdo it. Slow and steady wins the race, you know. Ah, here comes some one who has made a good meal I’ll be bound. Well, Smithers,” he continued, as a remarkably fast-looking young man came up, “have you had a good breakfast?”
“Yes, sir, as good as I could get.”
“Thought so,” said the assistant master, smiling. “Well, what certificate do you mean to take, eh? First of the first?”
“Haven’t been reading for honours, sir,” said Smithers, grinning.
“No, indeed,” said the assistant master, shaking his head. “Ah, Smithers, Smithers! why did you come here?”