“You know the Leander are to be at Henley,” put in Diogenes; “and Cambridge is very strong. There will be a splendid race for the cup, but Jervis thinks we are all right.”
“Bother your eternal races! Haven't we had enough of them already?” said the Londoner. “You had much better come up to the little village at once, Brown, and stay there while the coin lasts.”
“If I get away at all, it will be to Henley,” said Tom.
“Of course, I knew that,” said Diogenes, triumphantly, “our boat ought to be on for the ladies' plate. If only Jervis were not in the University crew! I thought you were to pull at Henley, Hardy?”
“I was asked to pull, but I couldn't manage the time with the schools coming on, and when the examinations were over it was too late. The crew were picked and half trained, and none of them have broken down.”
“What! Every one of them stood putting through the sieve? They must be a rare crew, then,” said another.
“You're right,” said Diogenes. “Oh, here you are at last,” he added, as another man in flannels and knapsack came out of college. “Well, good-bye all, and a pleasant vacation; we must be off, if we are to be in time to see our crew pull over the course to-night;” and the two marched off towards Magdalen Bridge.
“By Jove!” remarked a fast youth, in most elaborate toilette, looking after them, “fancy two fellows grinding off to Henley, five miles an hour, in this sun, when they might drop up to the metropolis by train in half the time? Isn't it marvellous?”
“I should like to be going with them,” said Tom.
“Well, there's no accounting for tastes. Here's our coach.”