"Are you going to get your grub here or out of doors?" she said.
"Do the other boys get it here?" I asked.
"Some do, some don't. What I say is, Are you going to or not?"
"What does it cost?" I said.
"Threepence breakfast and threepence supper," said Mrs Nash.
I longed to ask her what was included in the bill of fare for these
meals, but was too bashful.
"I think," said I, "I had better have them, then."
"All right," said she, shortly. "Can't have breakfast to-day; too late!
Supper's at nine, and lock-up at ten, there. Now you'd better cut, or
you'll be late at work."
Yes, indeed! It would be no joke to be late my first morning.
"Please," said I, "can you tell me the way to Hawk Street?"
"Where's that?" said Mrs Nash. "I don't know. Follow the tram lines
when you get out of the square, they'll take you to the City, and
then--"
At this moment a youth appeared in the passage about my age with a hat
on one side of his head, a cane in his hand, and a pipe, the bowl as big
as an egg-cup, in his mouth.
"I say, look here, Mrs Nash," said he, in a sleepy sort of voice; "why
wasn't I called this morning?"
"So you was," said Mrs Nash.
"No, I wasn't," drawled the youth.
"That's what you say," observed the landlady. "I say you was; I called
you myself."
"Then you ought to have knocked louder. How do you suppose a fellow who
was out at a party overnight is to hear you unless you knock hard? I
shall be late at the office, all through you."
Mrs Nash said "Shut up!" and the youth said "Shan't shut up!" and Mrs
Nash inquired why, if he was late, he did not go off instead of dawdling
about there, like a gentleman?
This taunt seemed to incense the youth, who put his nose in the air and
walked out without another word.
"There," said Mrs Nash, pointing to his retreating form, "you'd best
follow him; he's going to the City, the beauty."
I took the hint, and keeping "the beauty" at a respectful distance,
followed in his lordly wake for about twenty minutes, until the rapidly-
crowding streets told me I was in the City. Then, uncertain how to
direct my steps, I quickened my pace and overtook him.
"Please can you tell me the way to Hawk Street?"
He took two or three good puffs out of his big pipe, and blew the smoke
gracefully out of the corners of his mouth, and, by way of variety, out
of his nose, and then said, in a condescending voice, "Yes, my man;
first to the left and second to the right."
He certainly was a very self-assured young man, and struck me as quite
grand in his manners. I had positively to screw up my courage to ask
him, "I say, you are one of Mrs Nash's lodgers, aren't you?"
He stared at me, not quite sure what to make of me.
"Only," said I, by way of explanation, "I saw you there just now, and
Mrs Nash said I'd better follow you."
"Mrs Nash is a jolly sight too familiar. So are you."
With which the stately youth marched on, his nose higher in the air than
ever.
I was not greatly reassured by this first introduction, but for the time
being I was too intent on reaching Merrett, Barnacle, and Company's in
good time to think of much beside. Fortunately my fellow-lodger's
direction was correct, and in a few minutes I found myself standing on
familiar ground in Hawk Street.
When I entered the office the youth who rejoiced in the name of Crow was
the only representative of the firm present. He was engaged in the
intellectual task of filling up the ink-pots out of a big stone jar, and
doing it very badly too, as the small puddles of ink on nearly every
desk testified. He knew me at once, and greeted me with great alacrity.
"Hullo! young 'un, here you are. Look sharp and fill up the rest of
these, do you hear? and mind you don't make any spills!"
I proceeded to obey, while Mr Crow, quite a grandee now that there was
some one in the office junior to himself, stood, with his legs apart,
before the fireplace and read the _Times_, giving an occasional glance
at my proceedings.
"Hold hard!" he cried, presently, in an excited manner, when, having
filled all the ink-pots along one of the desks, I was proceeding to
attack on the other side of the screen; "hold hard! you don't want to
fill up for the Imports, I say. They can do that themselves!"
Of course I agreed with him in this, and was just about restoring the
jar to Mr Crow's custody, when Jack Smith entered the office.
"Hullo! Jack," I cried, feeling quite an old hand; "here you are.
Isn't it fine?"
"Rather," said Jack, solemnly, returning my grasp. "I _am_ glad."
"So am I. I was in such a fright when--"
"Now then, you young 'un there," said Crow, looking up from his paper,
"don't go dawdling, I say. Just stick fresh nibs in all the Export
pens, and look sharp about it, too."
"I'll help you, Fred," said Jack Smith, as I proceeded to obey.
"No, you won't!" said Crow; "we don't want you messing about in our
department. You stick to your Imports."
It was evident Exports and Imports at Messrs. Merrett, Barnacle, and
Company's were not on absolutely brotherly terms. Anyhow I had to stick
in the nibs unassisted.
Presently the other clerks began to drop in, among them Mr Doubleday,
who was very witty on the subject of my appointment, and told Wallop he
understood I was to be admitted into partnership next week, and would
then sign all the cheques.
"All right!" said Wallop; "I'll put off asking for a rise till next
week."
I was presumptuous enough to laugh at this, which greatly offended both
the magnates. Doubleday ordered me to my desk instantly.
"Get on with your work, do you hear? and don't stand grinning there!"
"What had I better do?" I inquired, mildly.
"Do?" said Mr Doubleday, proceeding to take up his pen and settle
himself to work; "I'll let you know what to-- Look here. Crow," he
broke off, in a rage, pointing to one of the ink puddles which that hero
had made, "here's the same beastly mess again! Every Monday it's the
same--ink all over the place! Why on earth don't you keep your messes
to yourself?"
"That young 'un filled up to-day," said Crow, coolly pointing to me.
I was so astounded by this false charge that I could hardly speak. At
last I retorted, "I didn't; you know I didn't!"
"Yes, you did!" said Crow.
"I didn't fill up that pot; it was done before I got here."
"Don't tell lies!" said Crow.
"I'm not telling lies!" cried I.
"Yes, you are!" said Crow. "I'm ashamed of you!"
"Oh, it was you, was it?" demanded Mr Doubleday, turning to me; "then
just come and wipe it up. Look sharp!"
I was disposed to resist this piece of injustice to the utmost, but
somehow the morning of my arrival it would hardly look well to figure in
a row.
"I didn't do it," said I, in an agitated voice, "but I'll wipe it up."
"Look sharp about it, then!" said Doubleday, grinning at Wallop.
It is one thing to offer to wipe up an ink puddle, and quite another to
do it.
"Now then!" said Doubleday, as I stood doubtfully in front of the scene
of operation.
"I don't know," I faltered,--"I, that is--I haven't got anything I can
do it with."
"What! not got a handkerchief!" exclaimed the head clerk, in apparent
consternation.
"Yes; but I can't do it with that. Wouldn't some blotting--"
"Blotting-paper!--the firm's blotting-paper to wipe up his messes! What
do you think of that, all of you? Come, out with your handkerchief!"
Things looked threatening. I saw it was no use resisting. Even the
Imports were standing on their stools and looking over the screen. So I
took out my handkerchief and, with a groan, plunged it into the spilt
ink.
Doubleday and the clerks evidently appreciated this act of devotion, and
encouraged me with considerable laughter. My handkerchief and my hand
were soon both the colour of the fluid they were wiping up, and my frame
of mind was nearly as black.
"Now then," said Doubleday, "aren't you nearly done? See if there's any
gone down the crack there. Is there?"
I stooped down to inspect the crack in question, and as I did so Mr
Doubleday adroitly slipped his pen under my soaking handkerchief, and,
by a sudden jerk, lifted it right into my face.
At the same moment the door opened and Mr Barnacle entered! He looked
round for a moment sharply, and then, passing on to the inner-room,
said, "Doubleday, bring the two new office-boys into my room."
If I had heard just the sentence of death pronounced on me I could
hardly have been more horrified. My face and hand were like the face
and hand of a negro, my collar and shirt were spotted and smeared all
over with ink, and even my light hair was decorated with black patches.
And in this guise I was to make my first appearance before my masters!
Jack Smith's expression of amazement and horror as he caught sight of me
only intensified my own distress, and Doubleday's stern "Now you're in
for it!" sounded hopelessly prophetic.
I could do nothing. To wipe my face with my clean hand, with the tail
of my jacket, with my shirt-sleeve, could do no good. No; I was in for
it and must meet my doom!
But I determined to make one expiring effort to escape it.
"Please, sir," I cried, as we came to the door and before we entered,
"I'm very sorry, but my face is all over ink. May I wash it before I
come in?"
I was vaguely conscious of the titters of the clerks behind me, of the
angry grip of Doubleday on one side of me, and of Smith's solemn and
horrified face on the other, and the next moment I was standing with my
friend in front of Mr Barnacle's awful desk.
He regarded me sternly for a moment or two, during which I suffered
indescribable anguish of mind.
"What is the meaning of this?" said he. "I don't understand it."
"Oh, please, sir," cried I, almost beseechingly, "I'm so sorry. I was
wiping up some ink, and got some on my face. I couldn't help."
Mr Barnacle looked angry and impatient.
"This is no place for nonsense," said he.
"Really I couldn't help," I pleaded.
There must have been some traces of earnestness visible, I fancy, on my
inky face, for I saw Mr Barnacle look at me curiously as I spoke, while
there was the faintest perceptible twitch at the corners of his lips.
"Go and wash at once," he said, sternly.
I fled from his presence as if I had been a leper, and amid the
merriment of my fellow-clerks sought the sink at the other end of the
office and washed there as I had never washed before.
After much exertion, my countenance resumed something like its natural
complexion, and the white skin faintly dawned once more on my fingers.
My collar and shirt-front were beyond cleaning, but at the end of my
ablutions I was, at any rate, rather more presentable than I had been.
Then I returned refreshed in body and mind to Mr Barnacle, whom I found
explaining to Smith his duties in the Import Department. He briefly
recapitulated the lecture for my benefit, and then dismissed us both
under the charge of Mr Doubleday to our duties, and by the time one
o'clock was reached that day, and I was informed I might go out for
twenty minutes for my dinner, I was quite settled down as junior clerk
in the Export Department of Merrett, Barnacle, and Company.