When you are getting on in years, you get very sleepy at times, and the hours seem to pass like lazy cattle moving across a landscape. It was like that for Chips as the autumn term progressed and the days shortened till it was actually dark enough to light the gas before call-over. For Chips, like some old sea-captain, still measured time by the signals of the past; and well he might, for he lived at Mrs. Wickett's, just across the road from the school.