The (almost really) Complete Works of Lewis Carroll

A Tale

Chap: I.

It was a glowing summer morning: the Orient sun had long risen, and gilded with his dazzling beam the topmost fane of Tom, the great tower of Christ Church. Out of the Eastern gate, known by the name of Canterbury, is walking a young man, solitary, downcast. His years are scarcely enough for a clergyman, and yet he wears a white neck-cloth and bands. Who can he be, and where is he going? Let us follow him: he approaches a vast range of buildings, ungly and un-architectural: they are called ‘the schools.’ As he passes along, men in the street, lounging against doorposts, look up for a moment, roused by the passing footfall, gaze on his retreating form, remark to a companion, ‘On’y one o’ them ’varsity coves in for a little go;’ and resume their listless attitude. They notice nothing of that calm expansive brow, those eyes glistening with the fire of genius, those chiselled features: they know not who has passed and how should they? Let us follow him in. A long table, covered with books, and surrounded with chairs; two gloomy-browed examiners, and twelve pale-faced youths complete the picture. Seats, like those in a circus, slant up at the end of the room: these are crowded with spectators.

Chap: II.

The youth is sitting at the table: before him lies a small edition of Sophocles. Sternly does the examiner remark, ‘Go on at the four hundred and fiftieth line.’ Slightly shading back with one hand an auburn curl from his ivory forehead, and resting his head peacefully on the other, in a low, musical tone, he commences. Some mistakes he makes, small and few: he is given two passages to translate—They are done: they are handed in: they are looked over. What is the examiner saying—‘you may go.’ All is over.