I have reason to fear that for a fortnight after I received the
astounding news of my scholastic success I was an intolerable nuisance
to my friends and a ridiculous spectacle to my enemies.
I may have had some excuse. I had worked hard, and got myself into a
"tilted" state of mind altogether. Still, that was no reason why I
should consider that the whole world was standing still to look on at my
triumph; still less why I should patronise my mother and Miss Steele and
Miss Bousfield as three well-intentioned persons who had just had an
object-lesson in the inferiority of their sex.
My mother and Miss Steele were too delighted to mind my airs. They were
really proud--one to be my mother, the other to be my "coach." And when
I strutted in and talked as if they barely knew how honoured they were
by my company, they laughed good-humouredly, and said to one another,--
"No wonder he's pleased with himself, dear boy."
Miss Bousfield was less disposed to bow the knee.
"I hope you won't forget what you owe to Miss Steele," said she. "I
never hoped she could make as much as she did of such unpromising
material. It's what I always have said--good teaching can make a
scholar of a dunce."
"Ah," said I, "you thought I was a dunce. I determined you should see I
wasn't. I am glad your school gets the credit of the exhibition."
"I'll wait and see how you turn out, before I am glad," said she. "I
hope the High School will not get a reputation for turning out prigs,
Jones."
I couldn't quite understand Miss Bousfield. She was not as cordial as I
thought she might be, considering the honour I had brought upon her
school.
My guardian's clerks were even less impressed by my distinction than
she.
"What's the matter this morning?" said Mr Evans on the day of my
triumph, as I sat smiling inwardly at my desk.
"Nothing particular," said I.
"It looks as if it was bad stomach-ache--I'd try camomile pills, if I
were you."
"Thank you--I don't require pills. If you want to know, I've been up
for an exam, and passed."
"Been up where?"
"Up for an exam.--an examination," said I, surprised at their density.
"Where, at the girls' school?"
"Girls' school, no; at Low Heath." Mr Evans looked grave, and beckoned
his comrades a little nearer.
"Awfully sad, isn't it?" said he, with a seriousness which surprised me.
"Yes. It's a good institution, though. My uncle tried to get a case in
there once, but failed." I wasn't surprised to hear that.
"They only let the _very_ dotty ones in," said Mr Evans. "Besides,
it'll be a part payment case--at least, I should think the governor will
plank down something."
"It's worth £40 a year for four years," said I, understanding very
imperfectly the drift of these remarks, but pleased at least to find I
had succeeded in impressing my fellow-clerks.
"Ah, so much?--they can't treat cases like yours for nothing. When are
you going in?"
"In September. It's a splendid place--five hundred fellows there."
"So many! It's rather sad to think about, isn't it, Hodges? Five
hundred! What a lot of trouble there is in the world, to be sure!"
"I can't say I shall be sorry--I know one or two chaps there already."
"Very likely, if it runs in the family at all."
"What runs?" said I, not taking him.
Mr Evans tapped his forehead.
"Never mind," said he, "it's not your fault. I expect four years will
do marvels with you. We'll come and see you sometimes, on visiting
days."
"Ah, I don't suppose there are visiting days, except for parents," said
I.
"I know one or two of the staff, though," said one of the party. "I
shall be able to hear about you from them."
"Oh, all right," said I. "I hope things here will go on all right when
I'm at school."
"School?" said Mr Evans, stooping with his hands on his knees, and
looking into my face. "Did you say school? Is Low Heath a school?"
"Rather. What did you think it was?"
"We thought it was an idiot asylum," said Mr Evans. And a shout of
laughter at my expense confirmed his statement.
I did not deign to explain; and for the few days I remained at the
office I made no further reference to my academic triumphs, though my
comrades rarely failed to make merry over the asylum.
At the end of a fortnight I began to come to myself, and realise that I
had not exactly borne my honours blushingly. And I was glad when my
mother proposed a week or two at the seaside, to brace up before
plunging into the ocean of public school fife.
My guardian, who had of late grown fairly civil to me, in the prospect
of getting me off his hands, was good enough to release me from the
office; and I shook the dust of that detestable place off my feet with
unfeigned thankfulness.
Mr Evans wanted to get up a farewell supper for me, and I was very near
allowing myself the honour, when I accidentally discovered that all the
provisions were to be ordered in my name and the bill sent to me.
Whereupon I declined the invitation with thanks, and regretted that a
previous engagement would prevent my having the pleasure of joining
their party.
Once in the quiet of the seaside, with my mother for companion, I
recovered my proper frame of mind, and began to take sober views of the
prospect before me.
I wrote to Tempest--rather a cocky letter, perhaps, but one full of
delight at the prospect of joining him at Low Heath, and claiming his
patronage and support.
His reply was characteristic to say the least.
"The examiners for exhibitions here are the biggest muffs out. They
plough the only men worth having and let in no end of scugs. The
consequence is. Low Heath is packed full of asses, as you'll find out.
I'm glad they let you in, though, as it will be sport having you here
and making you sing small. I do hope, though, it won't get out that
you've been coached by a female, or there'll be a terrific lark. I'm
getting quite a dab at photography, and shall have my camera up next
term. Mind you get the right-shaped boiler, or I shall cut you. The
kids are to be stopped wearing round tops like their betters, so you'd
best cut yours square. Brown was too 'cute to try for an exhibition.
It's bad enough for him to be a day boy, but it would be a jolly sight
worse to be an exhibitioner as well. When you come up, mind you're not
to collar me. It's bad form for a kid to collar a senior. Wait till I
speak to you, or else get some chap to bring you and introduce you.
Fellows who shirk form get jolly well lammed; so you'd better go easy at
first. Bring plenty of pocket-money, and some thick boots for kicking
chaps back.--Yours truly, H.T. Tempest."
This letter both gratified and perturbed me. It was pleasing to be
hailed as one of the inner circle of a fellow like Tempest; but it made
me suspect that I should not be taken into the fold at my own valuation,
but that of my betters, which in a public school is a very different
thing. The little details, too, about dress and manners rather startled
me. For supposing I had gone up not knowing these things, what mistakes
I should have made! Suppose, for instance, I had gone up in a billycock
with a round instead of a square top; or suppose I had hailed Tempest
without his first speaking to me, what would have become of me? I
trembled to think of it, and was glad to feel I had a friend at court
who would see I didn't "shirk form."
What made me still more uneasy was the reference to my connection with a
girl's school. The prize list had made it appear, to any one who did
not know better, that I was a pupil from Miss Steele's, High School,
Fallowfield. Suppose this list should get into the hands of any of the
fellows, or that some other new boy should carelessly leave his copy
about! I wished I had had more sense than to mention the High School at
all. This came of my chivalrous desire, said I to myself, to give Miss
Steele and her principal the benefit of my distinction. Now I might
have to thank them for endless trouble. I did my best to hope the worst
would not happen.
"Fellows never read prize lists of exams, they've not been in for,"
thought I; "and when they have been in, they never trouble themselves
about any one's name but their own. Why, I haven't even noticed where a
single other chap comes from. They may all be girls' schools, for all I
know. It's not likely any one has noticed mine."
And to avoid all accident I dropped mine into the fire, and had to stand
my mother's reproaches for destroying a document she had intended to
treasure till her dying day.
As the time for my going to Low Heath approached, I began to turn my
attention seriously to my _trousseau_.
My first care was to get the square-topped boiler, and a rare job I had
to procure it. None of the hatters in Fallowfield knew of such a shape
in young gents' hats; and the shopkeepers in Wynd, whither I went over
on purpose, were equally benighted. My mother, too, protested that she
had never heard of such a kind of hat, and that it would be hideous when
I got it.
That was no fault of mine. It was the Low Heath form, and that was
enough for me.
At length I heard of a hat of the kind at Deercut, five miles off, and
walked thither. It had been made, said the hatter, for a young sporting
party who attended to a gentleman's stables, and knew a thing or two.
He had got into trouble, it was explained, and was "doing his time on
the circular staircase," which I took to mean the treadmill. That was
the reason the article had been thrown on the maker's hands. It seemed
just the thing Tempest described. The top was as flat as the lid of a
work-box; indeed, it was precisely like a somewhat broad-brimmed
chimney-pot-hat cut down to half height; and after a little pinching in
at the sides fitted me beautifully. The maker was delighted to be able
to suit me, and smiled most graciously when I paid him my five shillings
and walked out of the shop with my junior exhibitioner's "boiler" on my
head.
I set down to envy or ignorance the jeers of the village youths who
encountered me on my way home. Some people will laugh at anything they
do not understand. My mother's protests, when she saw me, however, were
not so easy to dispose of.
"Why, Tommy, it makes you look like a common cheap-jack," said she.
"It's not a gentleman's hat at all. I'm sure they would not tolerate it
at Low Heath."
"On the contrary," said I, "it's the form there. You might say the same
of mortar boards or blue-coat dresses. It all depends on the school."
"But are you sure Tempest was not exaggerating?"
"Tempest is the most particular chap about form I know," said I.
"Well, dear, promise me you won't wear this dreadful hat till you go to
school. Wear your nice cap that suits you so well till then."
I humoured her. Indeed, I was a little shy myself of meeting Mr Evans,
or any of that set, in my new garb. They would be sure to pass their
nasty personal remarks upon it. It would be better to preserve it in
its virgin purity for my entrance to Low Heath.
I took the precaution to write to Tempest and mention that I had got it,
appending to my letter a rough sketch of the hat, so that, if there were
anything wrong about it, he would be able to correct me.
He wrote back in great good spirits.
"Just the thing, kid. It'll take the shine out of all the boilers up
here. Did I tell you about gloves? The knowing ones mostly sport
lavender; but the outsiders don't wear any, except at the first call-
over in the term, when of course it's compulsory. One muff last term
got pretty well lammed because he only had two-button gloves instead of
six. I believe one or two others were just as bad, only they didn't get
kotched; but it was a lesson to them. I wonder if young Brown will be
up to the tips, or whether he'll turn up in black boots instead of tan.
I sha'n't write to him, because he's a town-boy, and it would be low.
Ta-ta. Don't forget to wear your collar outside your great-coat, or I
sha'n't speak to you.--Yours, till then, H.T."
I kept this letter carefully from my mother. I knew it would only
distress her, and suggest all sorts of difficulties. For, dear soul, it
would be so hard to explain to her the exigencies of school form. What
would have become of me without old Tempest? I should have come utterly
to grief, I felt. My only fear was that he might have forgotten
something which it was as important I should be made aware of as the
hat, or the six-button lavender gloves, or the tan boots.
I am afraid I must plead guilty to a little duplicity in the matter of
purchasing these highly necessary articles of my kit. I had to persuade
my mother to allow me to choose my own gloves and boots; and expended
the money in such a manner that I could show her an ordinary pair of
each, while the special articles were carefully concealed in my box.
She thought the cheap black shoes and dog-skin gloves I paraded before
her dear at the price; but she little knew that I had safely stowed away
an elegant pair of light lavender gloves and a pair of tan boots of the
most fashionable appearance.
I had some difficulty about the former. For six-button gloves for young
gents was not a "stock-line" in any of the shops. I had finally to get
a lady's twelve-button pair and cut them down to suit my requirements.
The tan boots were more easily procured, although it grated somewhat
against my feelings to be sent over to the ladies' side of the shop to
get them, as they were not kept for boys on the men's side. As it was,
I feared they did not come up to Tempest's description of "thick boots
for kicking back in," but they were the thickest I could procure.
At length my preparations were all complete. My mother had been an
angel about them all. She had let me have my own way, and forborne
criticism when my taste--or rather my conjecture as to what the Low
Heath form might demand--ran counter to hers. On this account she made
no remark about my check shirts, or the steel chain which, after the
most approved fashion, came out from under the side of my waistcoat and
supported the weight of my keys in my side trouser pocket. I confess it
was an inconvenient arrangement. It was impossible to unlock my
portmanteau without either half undressing, or kneeling down so as to
bring the end of the chain on a level with the keyhole, or else standing
the portmanteau on a chair or table to bring it up to the key. But it
was undoubtedly the smart way of carrying keys. So the tailor said, and
so one or two friends in whom I confided also assured me.
I was really quite glad when I had sat down on the floor beside my trunk
for the last time, and knew I should not have to perform with the key
again till I was unpacking at Low Heath.
My handbag, for certain reasons, I carried with me unlocked. It
contained, to tell the truth, the hat and gloves and tan boots and other
_articles de rigueur_ which I did not exactly like to start off in, but
which I was resolved to don during the journey, so as to dawn on the Low
Heath horizon altogether "up to Cocker," as Tempest would say.
At the last moment my spirits failed me a little. I had been so taken
up with my own plans that I had almost forgotten I was leaving my mother
solitary, and turning my back on the sunshine of affection which during
the last year had come to be such a natural and soothing feature of my
surroundings.
"Don't forget the old home, Tommy," she said. "God bless you and keep
you good, and innocent, and honest! Don't be led astray by bad
companions, but try to help others to be good. And, Tommy dear, don't
try to be a man just yet--be the dear boy you are--don't try to be
anything else, and--" But here the train began to move, and there was
barely time for a farewell kiss.
What she said ran rather in my head, especially the last exhortation,
which I was sorry she had uttered. For I was quite sure she was
referring to my nervous desire to do everything correctly at the new
school; and it grieved me that she should speak of it as trying to be
something I was not.
Of course I would remember all she said. There was not much fear of my
being led astray; it was much more likely that I, as an exhibitioner,
would be looked up to by some of the ordinary small boys to show them a
lead. What with Tempest to befriend me at headquarters, and my prestige
as a scholar, and the fact that I knew a pretty good deal about school
already, it was as likely as not I might be instrumental in helping one
or two lame dogs over the stiles of their first term.
My only travelling companion was a motherly sort of person of the farmer
class, who eyed me affectionately--too affectionately to please me--and
attempted to condole with me on the sorrow of leaving home.
"Never mind, dearie," said she--Cheek! for a stranger to call a chap
"dearie."
"You'll be a bit lonely at first, so you will; but you'll get used to
it, and it won't be so long to holiday time, and then you'll see mamma
again."
I wished she wouldn't. She misunderstood me. I wasn't thinking about
the holidays at all. The fact was, I was thinking about my boots and
hat in the bag, and wondering when I should put them on.
Bother it! Why should I mind her or her remarks? Some other new chap
might get in at the next station, and I couldn't change before him. I'd
better get myself up to form now, and so be ready.
So, to the old lady's surprise, I proceeded to take off my shoes and put
on the thick tan boots in their place. She watched me in mingled
admiration and surprise--no doubt the fresh yellow was very imposing,
and made me look as if I was shod in gold. But the High Street at Low
Heath would presently be sparkling with a hundred pairs of such boots,
so what mattered an old lady's temporary astonishment? It was the same
about the hat--indeed worse. For at the sight of that particularly
sporting adornment, she threw up her hands and exclaimed,--
"What a funny little fellow, to be sure!"
I tried to look grave, and as if I had not heard her, but I felt very
conscious of the hat all the same, and only hoped another new boy would
get in presently, so that she might see that a thing might be the
fashion and yet she not know it.
I was a good deal perplexed about the lavender gloves. Of course, I had
not to wear these until call-over that afternoon, or possibly next
morning. But I might as well try them on now. And the difficulty was
that it was very difficult to button the six buttons all the way up
without baring my arm half-way at least to the elbow. I made a feeble
attempt, but it presented so many difficulties, and evidently so
seriously perturbed my companion, that I abandoned the attempt,
resolving to try them on under the bedclothes that night.
At the first station a youth of about my own age, with a hat-box and
bag, got into the carriage. Was he, I wondered, a Low Heath chap?
Evidently not. He wore a straw hat, and boots of the ordinary colour,
and--Whew! what a lucky thing I had not forgotten it! He wore his white
collar inside the velvet of his great-coat. And so should I have
continued to do, had not the sight of him called Tempest's injunction to
wear it outside to my memory. I availed myself of the next tunnel to
rectify this serious omission, and had the satisfaction, when we emerged
into daylight, of noticing that neither of my fellow-travellers appeared
to pay much heed to the change. They both stared at me now and then;
but the boy evidently grew tired of that, and curled himself up in a
corner of the carriage and read a _Boy's Own Paper_.
I presently followed his example, and what with reading, and speculating
on my coming entry into Low Heath, and an occasional thought for the
little home at Fallowfield, the time went quickly by.
"Is this Low Heath station?" inquired I, as the train began to slacken
speed.
"Yes," said the boy, regarding me from head to foot with evidently
increased curiosity. "Are you a new kid at the school?"
"Yes," said I.
"Oh my! What a lark!" said he.