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"I don't gainsay it. What has roughened your temper? Put some

punch to it and smooth it again."

With a deprecatory grunt, the jackal again complied.

"The old Sydney Carton of old Shrewsbury School," said Stryver,

nodding his head over him as he reviewed him in the present and

the past, "the old seesaw Sydney. Up one minute and down the

next; now in spirits and now in despondency!"

"Ah!" returned the other, sighing: "yes! The same Sydney, with

the same luck. Even then, I did exercises for other boys, and

seldom did my own."

"And why not?"

"God knows. It was my way, I suppose."

He sat, with his hands in his pockets and his legs stretched out

before him, looking at the fire.