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I THINK every one who reads and loves Mr. Thomas Hughes' celebrated story of "Tom Brown's School Days at Rugby" ought to know at least the name of Laurence Sheriff. If it had not been for Laurence Sheriff, that book probably would never have been written. He was not a very great or famous man. He was a London grocer. But before he died, and just about the time when Shakespeare as a little boy was toddling through Stratford streets, Laurence Sheriff made a will, in which he gave a certain sum of money and part of his lands, that a school might be built in his native town of Rugby. It was to be a free school, he said, only for the children living in that part of the country, and it was to be ruled by "an honest, discreete, and learned man."

And so Rugby School was founded. But for a long time the school was so badly managed and the number of scholars so small that no one could have imagined how great it was one day to become.

After a while, however, matters began to improve.

Some of the Sheriff property in London became very valuable, and as soon as there was enough money to engage more masters, more boys came to be taught. But now the same thing happened here that has occurred in nearly all the great public schools of England: sons of parents who were rich enough to pay for their education, were sent to Rugby, and before long they outnumbered the free scholars for whom the school was really founded. It was just about a hundred years ago that Rugby affairs were so much bettered. At that time, boys began to come to the school, not only from the little village that bore the same name, and from the other towns and villages of Warwickshire, but from all parts of England, so that when Doctor Arnold was made Head-master, Rugby School was quite a large institution.

Who does not know of Doctor Arnold, "the strong, true man, and wise one too," of Tom Brown's wonderful story? He was really and indeed as "honest, discreete and learned" a

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school-master as Laurence Sheriff could have wished to see, and his life and work were among the chief influences that have made Rugby what it now is. Perhaps some of you, when reading about them have fancied that Tom Brown's adventures at Rugby were as unreal as those of Alice in Wonderland or of Puss in the Country of the Marquis of Carabas. But if you were to go to Rugby you would find, not only the same old battlemented towers, the same little studies, and the same tall elm-trees shading the play-grounds, but almost all the same old customs, during play and schoolhours, of which Mr. Hughes writes. As in his day, the boys live in eight large "houses," fifty or sixty boarding in each, and each one being, as I suppose you know without my telling you, "The best 'house' in the school, out-and-out!" There are plenty of Rugby boys who think now just as old Brooke thought in his day. It is no wonder this feeling is so strong. The boys who live in the same "house" have their games together, and always meet one another during the most sociable hours of the day; that is to say, when they are gathered around the breakfast and dinner table, or when they have a little free time at their disposal after "lock-up."

Even without seeing them, you must already feel at home in those cosy little dens, politely called "studies"; and Mr. Hughes' book has made you equally familiar with the dormitories, with their rows of wash-stands and beds, where the boys sleep at night. At half-past six in the morning, those bedrooms are lively enough, and sleepy little boys pull on their clothes, and unwilling fags hold themselves ready to run on the messages of that great man, the sixth-form boy.

After this comes chapel at seven, followed fifteen minutes later by first lesson, and then by breakfast at a quarter-past eight. Second and third lessons are held between a quarter after nine and half-past one, when the great bell begins to toll for dinner. There are two more lessons after dinner; and in the evening, when tea is over, the boys prepare their lessons, the younger pupils having tutors four evenings in the week, but the elder scholars always studying by themselves in their rooms.

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pleased both boys and masters to give the name of pleasure, is really harder on half-holidays during the Christmas and spring terms than at any other time. For at once, after "calling-over," or "C. O." in the school slang, all, except those who are declared by physicians to be too delicate, must join in the game of foot-ball or else run with the hares and hounds. It is as much their duty to do so as it is for them to go to their classes. Foot-ball is the great Rugby game, and is played principally during the Christmas term. Rugby boy," says a late head of the schoolhouse, "looks forward to it in the summer and regrets it in the spring. He honors good foot-ball players and despises poor players. He will talk foot-ball in season and out of season." Rugby football is quite different from the Eton and Harrow game. It is much rougher, though Rugbeians now sigh over it, and declare that it is not played half so viciously as it used to be! It is true that it has been shorn of some of its terrors since the days of the mighty contests between the Upper Bench, or first twelve of the sixth form, and the rest of the

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THE GATEWAY AT RUGBY.

school, when the game became a battle, and the head-master had to interfere and stop the match, because it was so little like play. That was in the brave days of old. Those old ways have been changed. Not very long ago rules were made declaring that, "Though it is lawful to

On the afternoons of Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, there are no lessons. Foot-ball or cricket or a long run across country takes their place. There is another half-holiday on every third Monday. No one knows exactly why this should be, but it is a very old custom, and one with which the boys, at all events, have never found fault. It is called "middle week." Work, to which it has "Fagging" is a special feature of English school-life. The "fag" is a boy in one of the lower classes of the school, who does "menial service" for another boy in one of the higher classes, or "forms," as they are called.

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