"Lord Lovel he stood at the garden gate,
A-combing his milk-white steed."
It was the winter of 186- when I next met Guy Heavystone. He had left the university and had entered the 79th "Heavies." "I have exchanged the gown for the sword, you see," he said, grasping my hand, and fracturing the bones of my little finger, as he shook it.
I gaz