The ARGUMENT.

_This Colloquy treats of scholastic Studies, and School Plays, I. The Boys going into the School. The striking of a Clock. A whipping Master. Of saying a Lesson. Fear hurts the Memory. 2. Of Writing, the Paper sinks. Of making a Pen. Of a hard Nip. A soft Nip. Of writing quick, well._

SYLVIUS, JOHN.

_Sy._ What makes you run so, _John?_

_Jo._ What makes a Hare run before the Dogs, as they use to say?

_Sy._ What Proverb is this?

_Jo._ Because unless I am there in Time, before the Bill is called over, I am sure to be whipp'd.

_Sy._ You need not be afraid of that, it is but a little past five: Look upon the Clock, the Hand is not come to the half Hour Point yet.

_Jo._ Ay, but I can scarce trust to Clocks, they go wrong sometimes.

_Sy._ But trust me then, I heard the Clock strike.

_Jo._ What did that strike?

_Sy._ Five.

_Jo._ But there is something else that I am more afraid of than that, I must say by Heart a good long Lesson for Yesterday, and I am afraid I can't say it.

_Sy._ I am in the same Case with you; for I myself have hardly got mine as it should be.

_Jo._ And you know the Master's Severity. Every Fault is a Capital one with him: He has no more Mercy of our Breeches, than if they were made of a Bull's Hide.

_Sy._ But he won't be in the School.

_Jo._ Who has he appointed in his Place?

_Sy. Cornelius._

_Jo._ That squint-ey'd Fellow! Wo to our Back-Sides, he's a greater Whip-Master than _Busby_ himself.

_Sy._ You say very true, and for that Reason I have often wish'd he had a Palsy in his Arm.

_Jo._ It is not pious to wish ill to ones Master: it is our Business rather to take Care not to fall under the Tyrant's Hands.

_Sy._ Let us say one to another, one repeating and the other looking in the Book.

_Jo._ That's well thought on.

_Sy._ Come, be of good Heart; for Fear spoils the Memory.

_Jo._ I could easily lay aside Fear, if I were out of Danger; but who can be at Ease in his Mind, that is in so much Danger.

_Sy._ I confess so; but we are not in Danger of our Heads, but of our Tails.

2. _Of Writing._

CORNELIUS, ANDREW.

_Co._ You write finely, but your Paper sinks. Your Paper is damp, and the Ink sinks through it.

_An._ Pray make me a Pen of this.

_Co._ I have not a Pen-knife.

_An._ Here is one for you.

_Co._ Out on't, how blunt it is!

_An._ Take the Hoan.

_Co._ Do you love to write with a hard-nip'd Pen, or a soft?

_An._ Make it fit for your own Hand.

_Co._ I use to write with a soft Nip.

_An._ Pray write me out the Alphabet.

_Co._ Greek or Latin?

_An._ Write me the Latin first; I'll try to imitate it.

_Co._ Give me some Paper then.

_An._ Take some.

_Co._ But my Ink is too thin, by often pouring in of Water.

_An._ But my Cotton is quite dry.

_Co._ Squeeze it, or else p.i.s.s in it.

_An._ I had rather get some Body to give me some.

_Co._ It is better to have of one's own, than to borrow.

_An._ What's a Scholar without Pen and Ink?

_Co._ The same that a Soldier is without Shield or Sword.