I was myself on the foundation, one of the seventy King’s Scholars, as we were called; we lived in the old buildings; we dined together in the college hall, a stately Gothic place, over four centuries old, with a timbered roof, open fireplaces, and portraits of notable Etonians.  We wore cloth gowns in public, and surplices in the chapel.  It was all very grand and dignified, but we were in those days badly fed, and very little looked after.  There were many ancient and curious customs, which one picked up naturally, and never thought them either old or curious.  For instance, when I first went there, the small boys, three at a time, waited on the sixth form at their dinner, being called servitors, handing plates, pouring out beer, or holding back the long sleeves of the big boys’ gowns, as they carved for themselves at the end of the table.  This was abolished shortly after my arrival as being degrading.  But it never occurred to us that it was anything but amusing; we had the fun of watching the great men at their meal, and hearing them gossip.  I remember well being kindly but firmly told by the present Dean of Westminster, then in sixth form, that I must make my appearance for the future with cleaner hands and better brushed hair!

We were kindly and paternally treated by the older boys; I was assigned as a fag to Reginald Smith, now my publisher.  I had to fill and empty his bath for him, make his tea and toast, call him in the morning, and run errands.  In return for which I was allowed to do my work peacefully in his room, in the evenings, when the fags’ quarters were noisy, and if I had difficulties about my work, he was always ready to help me.  So normal a thing was it, that I remember saying indignantly to my tutor, when he marked a false quantity in one of my verses, “Why, sir, my fagmaster did that!” He laughed, and said, “Take my compliments to your fagmaster, and tell him that the first syllable of senator is short!”

We lived as lower boys in a big room with cubicles, which abutted on the passage where the sixth form rooms were.  It was a noisy place, with its great open fireplace and huge oak table.  If the noise was excessive, the sixth form intervened; and I remember being very gently caned, in the company of the present Dean of St. Paul’s, for making a small bonfire of old blotting-paper, which filled the place with smoke.

The liberty, after the private school, was astonishing.  We had to appear in school at certain hours, not very numerous; and some extra work was done with the private tutor; but there was no supervision, and we were supposed to prepare our work and do our exercises, when and as we could.  There were a few compulsory games, but otherwise we were allowed to do exactly as we liked.  The side streets of Windsor were out of bounds, but we were allowed to go up the High Street; we had free access to the castle and park and all the surrounding country.  On half holidays—­three a week—­our