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earnestly to overcome the deficiencies of the musician’s early education.

Mr. Robinson was also something of a musician; that is to say, he could sing a comic song, and was famous for his version of “Drink, puppy, drink,” particularly as to the “whoop” of the chorus, which he rendered with great vivacity and power. On the strength of this bond of union, and yielding to his uncontrollable propensity to introduce everybody to everybody else, Mr. Robinson took complete command of “Mynheer” at the smoking concert which formed a fitting and harmonious close to the gaieties of the week; and before the end of the evening the professor found himself in possession of a long list of new acquaintances, and of an equally new repertoire of sporting songs. The concert went off extremely well. The professor had played everybody’s accompaniments with his usual unfailing courtesy and tact, and had even yielded to the persuasion of the audience so far as to sing some German student-songs in his fine baritone, finishing with “Funicoli, Funicola,” amid great applause. The smoke was growing thicker and bluer every moment; the talk of the men about polo, ponies’ legs, and every possible variation on the great motif of “The Horse,” became more and more intense and animated.