WHEN first sent to School (now the Station was Rugby) I fancied my masters and took to the boys; I thought to myself--here 'tis plain I shall snug be Revolving at last in an orbit of joys: The Alphabet Grecian I quickly could stammer, Nor ran any risk of a jaw out of joint; I waddled sedately through Fatherland Grammar, But own I was floored by the Decimal Point! Le Roi de Montagnes was my Gallic translation, And soon I was praised by my master, who said:-- "I certainly deem that, with good education, A Scholarship laurel should circle your head!" I revelled in idioms; I thrilled at the phrases; I knew how to render "avaunt" and "aroint," But own that I shed many tears on the daisies Of Rugby when stumped by the Decimal Point! ...
