upon the boys, and there was an insincerity about all his dealings with us. For example, going out with the beagles was considered to be an offence for which a flogging was due. But that punishment was never inflicted; and when at absence we appeared in a very dirty state and Keate asked where we had been, the invariable reply was that we had been playing football. This Keate knew to be a falsehood, and yet he always asked the question, and never rejected the answer. Boating, too, was forbidden, and the Fourth of June was a proscribed day. Keate, however, always had a large dinner party in honour of the anniversary, and announced that lock-up would not be till half-past nine, as, on so fine an evening, the boys would perhaps like a little extra time in the shooting-fields.

There were two occasions when, in spite of the terror which he inspired, Keate was powerless to maintain order. One was at evening school on the day of Windsor Fair. We were strictly forbidden to go to the Fair, but not many boys remained away. The Fourth Form boys went into school earlier than the rest, and used to strew the floor of the lower part of the room with crackers. When the upper boys came in they trod on the crackers, which of course went off. At such a time the rage of Keate seemed to be at its height. He would threaten universal floggings, and many victims were actually sacrificed to his wrath. No lessons were ever done on that evening,

but it was always impossible to say whether Keate's anger was real or simulated.

The other occasion was "Prose," by which what were supposed to be Prayers on Sunday afternoon were known. At two o'clock, immediately after dinner, Keate came into the Upper School with a book, generally "Blair's Sermons," under his arm. By the time he had read aloud two or three sentences his voice was always lost in the uproar. He would then violently stamp his foot, dash his cocked hat on the desk, and call out, "I will declare it immediately." What exactly he was to declare nobody could ever make out, but the confusion was quelled by the announcement of the subjects for themes, or that the members for Windsor had asked for a holiday, or of some other school arrangement.

Though boating was unrecognised by the College authorities, it was a very popular amusement. I rowed a good deal, and was for three years in the Upper Boats. William IV. was an ardent patron of the river, and was especially fond of the Fourth of June. One year he gave a dozen dozen of champagne to be drunk by the boys in the tenoar, but the effect was so disastrous that he was asked to reduce his allowance, and next year he sent only a miserable dozen. In this latter year the boat of which I was captain was at the last moment left without a "sitter," which in the eyes of Etonians is a reproach and disgrace. However, as we were

starting, the steerer, Lord Sunderland, the late Duke of Marlborough, came and said "There is a very handsome gentleman who wants to go up with us as sitter, but he can only give a dozen of sherry. Will you take him?" I at once agreed, and the gentleman appeared. He took his place in the stern, and a very imposing figure he made with his light blue scarf and diamond pin. We afterwards learned from some of the boys who frequented the Castle that he was the Royal cook, and the dozen of sherry probably represented a small accumulation of his wine allowance.

I rowed in the race against Westminster on Ascension Day, May 4th, 1837. There had been three previous races-at Putney in 1829, at Maidenhead in 1831, and at Staines in 1836—and each time Eton had won. This race took place in our own waters at Datchet, and was from the Bridge to the New Lock and back again. We won the toss, and took the Bucks side. The contemporary report says that " on the signal being given the Westminsters dashed in advance, and were soon half a boat's length ahead. At the corner of the Park wall, and nearly opposite Mr. Fowler's cottage, the Etonians came more into the middle of the stream, and evidently made a strong pull, in the hope of catching their opponents on the quarter, but they were wide of the mark, and dropped full the length of their boat in the wake of the Westminsters. Both parties were loudly cheered.

on to increased exertion, and in turning at the New Lock the Etonians doubled their boat with greater dexterity than their antagonists, and the consequence was that they brought the nose of their cutter bang on to the sixth oar of the Westminsters, who would have shipped some water had not young Lord Somerton, their cox, bore the Haidée up by leaning over on the opposite side. The starboard forward men on board the Britannia were ordered to make as much way as possible, while those on the larboard backed water, and by these means the Etonians were foiled in turning the opposition party in shore, and both parties came alongside of each other. After about two minutes manoeuvring, the Westminsters got away, closely pressed by Eton, who quickly came again on their quarter, but could not succeed in their object, for the Westminsters, evidently by superior strength, and with their backs well laid down to their work, drew ahead, and ultimately won by between three and four lengths, amid the almost deafening cheers of their friends." I commend this picture of the pre-outrigger period to my young aquatic friends of the Isthmian Club.

This was a memorable race. Eton had never been beaten before. The King was present, and declared that the Eton boys lost because Dr. Hawtrey was looking on. The Eton boys, in their turn, said that their defeat was the immediate cause of the King's illness.

On the morning of the race His

Majesty had said to Lord Howe, "What carriage shall I have to-day?" The answer was, "Your Majesty ought not to go out; you are too unwell." But he meant, he said, to see the match. I remember well his figure seated in a closed carriage wrapped in a white great-coat, about 150 yards from the Bridge. As soon as he saw that the Westminsters were ahead, he pulled down the blinds and drove back to the Castle, which I do not think he ever afterwards left.

Etonians of my standing will remember John Francis Plumtre, one of the Fellows, who had a peculiar swivel of his eye. He was famous for his breakfasts, and, having been fag to my father, often asked me. I once behaved very shabbily to him, for I joined a conspiracy to "brozier" him. There

were ten or twelve of us, and we devoured everything within reach. Plumtre, observing that the table was swept of viands, asked one of the guests to ring the bell. When the servant appeared, Plumtre twisted his eye round to him and said, "Joel, the round of beef," and with the round of beef Joel presently entered the room. The chapel bell just then began to ring, and we all took the opportunity to retire, cowed, beaten, and ashamed of ourselves.

In 1834 Keate resigned the head-mastership, and was succeeded by Hawtrey. I never disliked Keate, though I can easily understand the hatred which he inspired in the minds of sensitive boys. His floggings, it goes without saying, were out of all reason, and