CHAPTER XIV
"SUMMER-TERM"
"O Summer-Term, sweet to the Cricketer, whose very existence is bliss;
O Summer-Term, sweet to the Editor, who needs write but two numbers of this"
"But he doesn't write them," objected Jan, "any more than the captain of a side makes all the runs."
"Oh! I know it should be 'edit,' but that doesn't scan," explained Chips, and continued:
"Why the Oaks?" interrupted Jan again. "Why not the Derby, while you are about it?"
Chips told him he would see, confound him!
"O Summer-Term, sweet to the Jester, who's plenty of food for his jokes!"
"I see; but not enough rhymes for them, eh?"
"That's about it, I suppose."
Chips was laughing, though Jan was just a little too sardonic for him, as had often been the case of late. The scene was the poet's study, and the time after lock-up on a Sunday evening, when the friends always sat together until prayers. The tardy shades of early June were intensified by the opaque window overlooking the road and only opening at the top. Chips had his
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