As I entered the hall, in which were already assembled most of my fellow
"Sharpers," the first idea which occurred to me was that Low Heath was
not such a big place after all. I had expected to encounter the whole
school, instead of some fifty boys of my own particular house, and it
was a relief to me to find that, for the present at any rate, I was to
blush before only a limited company.
The next thing that struck me was that these fellows evinced wonderfully
little interest in my appearance; which, considering the active interest
they had shown in me not long since, was quite a shock. I had made up
my mind to be howled at and laughed out of countenance. Instead of
which they contented themselves with a half-glance to see who the new-
comer was, and then went on talking together as if nothing had happened.
The conceit was already sufficiently knocked out of me to enable me to
take this indifference in good part. Possibly when my name was called
reference would be made to my exhibition, which would make a few of them
look twice at me; but for the present I was glad to be left alone.
At first I could distinguish nobody; but in a little I caught sight of
Tempest's head among the seniors of the house. He did not see me, nor
did he appear to be looking out for me.
Suddenly some one called "Seats!" an order that was so promptly obeyed
that it left me standing alone near the door at which I had entered.
"Seats--can't you hear?" said some one near me. I made promptly for the
first empty desk I could see. The youth at the end of the row had his
back partly turned, and it was necessary to push vigorously past him to
arrive at my destination.
"Look out, you mule!" said he; "you trod on my-- Hullo, Sarah, how are
you?" and a friendly kick on the shins helped me wonderfully on my way.
It was my old acquaintance of the railway carriage; and next to him was
the small youth who had been so terribly concerned about my costume in
the morning.
He put his feet up on the desk in front, and gave me the option of
climbing over or crawling under. He was about three-quarters my size;
but he had such an air of authority about him, that I hardly liked to
suggest a third alternative, namely, that he should put down his feet
and let me pass. So I climbed over, much to his indignation (which he
expressed by sticking a nib into me as I passed).
"I say," he began, "you'll catch it. That's not your desk."
I was aware of that, and devoutly hoped the real owner would not arrive
on the scene.
"If Tinker kotches you-- Hullo, what _have_ you done with your patent
boots?"
"I've changed them," said I; "but do you think Tinker's coming?"
"We'll keep him out if he does--"
Just then one of the seniors on the front form, who had been talking to
Tempest, leant back, and said in a loud whisper to the boy at the end of
the form in front of ours--
"White, see all the new kids have their gloves on properly."
Gloves? I felt my teeth begin to chatter in my head.
Had I not flung my gloves along with my hat and boots into my trunk,
thinking they would not be needed? I had considered them as part of
Tempest's little joke. But evidently I had made a fearful mistake. For
the senior who had given the admonition was not Tempest at all, but his
next neighbour; and the fact that it was not given to me but to a
monitor made it clear that, however I had been humbugged over the other
details of "form," gloves were the order of the day for new boys at
first call-over.
In a panic I rose and tried to go out, with the wild idea of rescuing my
gloves from my trunk. But it was impossible to escape. Not only had my
companion his feet up more uncompromisingly than ever, but my sudden
movement called down upon me general remarks.
"Shut up! sit down, can't you?" said my neighbour. "What are you up
to?"
"My gloves--I've--I've left them upstairs."
"Your what?"
"Gloves. I thought it was a mistake about new boys having to wear them,
and didn't bring them."
The boy looked grave.
"Oh, you'll catch it! You can't go now. There's Sharpe coming in.
Haven't you got any at all?"
"Only my ordinary gloves."
"What colour?"
"Yellow."
"Stick them on then."
"But they've only two buttons."
"Can't be helped. You're bound to catch it, but they're better than
nothing."
So, in dire agitation, I drew on my new dog-skin gloves. The smiles of
the boys near me I interpreted as a grim recognition that I had "shirked
form" and did not know any better. I longed to explain that I did, and
that I had not come to Low Heath as ignorant as they supposed. But it
was impossible. Mr Sharpe was already in his place, and "register" had
begun.
Register, a ceremony with which I was destined to become painfully
familiar in time, consisted in the calling over of the names of all the
boys in the house, in order of place, by the minor prefect, who took his
stand at the side of the master's desk for the purpose. Instead of
answering "Here" or "Adsum," in the usual way, the boy whose name was
called stood in his place and held up his hand.
I had been so preoccupied with the lack of my six-button lavender gloves
and the remarks of my two left-hand neighbours, that I had failed
altogether to observe the boy on my right, who now quietly nudged me,
and presented to my astonished gaze the serene and serious countenance
of Dicky Brown.
"What have you got your gloves on for?" inquired he, as if he had seen
me daily since we parted.
"It's the form. Haven't you got any? I say, you'll get in a jolly
row," said I, quite delighted to be able to lord it a little over an
inferior.
"Why--who told you?"
"Tempest."
"Tempest's a regular humbug. He tried to stuff me up by making me bring
a cheese-cutter cap. But I wasn't such a fool as I look."
Alas! it was my turn to colour up. Had Dicky, I wondered, seen my
square billycock?
At that moment Tempest's name was called, and we saw our old Dux rise
complacently in his seat and hold up his hand.
It was difficult to feel angry with him. He looked so cool and
determined, his shoulders were so square, and the year that had elapsed
since we met had added three good inches to his stature. It was a
feather in a fellow's cap to know Tempest, even if he did have his
little joke at one's expense now and then.
I came to the conclusion that Dicky and I must be the only two new boys
in the house, for none of the numerous hands, grimy and otherwise, which
went up were cased in anything but their native skin.
Presently the register clerk came to an end of his list, and I was
beginning to congratulate both myself and Brown on our probable escape
from detection when Mr Sharpe said--
"New boys, come forward."
My left-hand neighbour interposed no obstruction now, as, followed by
Dicky, I sidled out of my place and advanced along with five other
youths to the front. I was conscious of smiles as I went past the
desks, some of recognition of the late owner of the tan boots, some of
appreciation of my blushes, and others, as I supposed, of the greenness
which had led all my companions to commit the fatal error of not
appearing in gloves, and of my error, though in a smaller degree, of
appearing in bright yellow two-button goods instead of lavender of the
regulation half-dozen.
I exchanged glances with Tempest, among others, who looked very serious,
and was evidently chagrined that after all his kind trouble on my behalf
I should now land myself in this dilemma. Good old Tempest! It wasn't
his fault.
"Answer to your--" began Mr Sharpe, when, suddenly catching sight of
me, he said--
"Why, sir, what nonsense is this? What do you mean by wearing those
gloves?"
"I beg your pardon, sir," I faltered, and felt that not a word of my
speech was being lost by the assembled house; "I've left my lavender
six-button gloves in my trunk."
Mr Sharpe's mouth curled at the corner in a curious way, and a general
titter greeted my explanation from the benches behind.
I was fully convinced now that, after all my care, the very solecism I
had planned so carefully to avoid had tripped me up at last.
"Take them off at once, sir, and let me have no more of this
foolishness. You are making a bad start. Were you not the boy I had to
speak to in the hall this afternoon?"
"Yes, sir. I am sorry I kicked your shins. I hope I didn't hurt much.
I thought you were one of the boys."
I am sure I meant no harm by it, but he seemed to regard this as a
studied insult, and visited me with his wrath not only for it but for
the smiles from the boys behind which accompanied it.
"What is this boy's name?" he inquired severely, looking round.
I wondered who would answer the question; it was evidently not intended
for me. It astonished me that Mr Sharpe should not apply at
headquarters; I am sure I could have told him. "I think," said a voice
which I recognised as Tempest's, "his name is Jones, sir."
Think! Surely Tempest might have had a little more confidence than
that.
"Perhaps you will see what you can make of him presently, Tempest. If
he has any intelligence at all," (nice, wasn't it, for an exhibitioner?)
"you may be able to make him understand some of the rules of the place.
If not, I am afraid we shall have to put him down as a silly little boy,
and bear with him accordingly. Go to your seat now, sir, and report
yourself to Tempest after register."
It was not a very dignified end to the interview. Still, I felt myself
lucky to be handed over to the tender mercies of my old comrade, and
retired to my place a puzzled but not an amused boy.
What perplexed me most was to notice that Brown and the other new boys
who had no gloves at all, and did nothing but answer the questions put
to them in the plainest possible way, not only passed muster, but
received words of approval and encouragement from the master such as I
would have given a great deal to have got myself. But such is life.
The fellows who take the most pains and deserve most, get least; and the
fellows who have least to boast of receive more than they expect.
I was glad when register was over and the time came for me to have an
explanation with Tempest.
"Look here," said the candid youth next to me, "you'd better sit up when
you go to Tempest, I can let you know. He's cock of our house this
term, and he's not over-tender with idiots, I can let you know."
"What, has he been down on you?" I inquired meekly.
The only reply I got was a touch on the calf which made me exclaim "Oh!"
rather more loudly than I should have chosen to do under ordinary
circumstances. Luckily the general movement of the class somewhat
deadened the sound, and if Mr Sharpe heard me, he did not consider it
worth his while to deprive Tempest of the task of elucidating the reason
of it.
I kept my man carefully in view, and followed him upstairs into a little
study about the size of a commodious sentry box, with a window, book-
case, sofa, table, chairs, and all the requirements of a single man of
few needs. It seemed to me a delightful little sanctum; and for a
moment I began to wonder whether, being an exhibitioner, I might not be
entitled to one like it for myself--perhaps this _was_ mine.
Tempest soon disabused me of that notion.
"Light the fire, and stick on my kettle, kid," said he--they were the
first words after more than a year--"and cut and get us a muffin from
the shop."
"I say," said I, longing for rather more cordial a recognition, "I am
jolly glad to see you again, Tempest."
Just then another senior popped his head in.
"Have tea with me. Tempest? Come on, Wales is coming too."
"Is Crofter coming?"
"No."
"All right, I'm on; thanks, Pridgin. Blow that fire out, kid."
"Is that kid your fag?"
"Not likely."
"Is he all there? Sharpe seemed to doubt it."
Tempest shrugged his shoulders.
"How soon? Ten minutes?"
"Yes--not longer."
"Now, kid," said Tempest, when we were left alone, "how long are you
going to play the fool? Take your time; but let us know when you've
done, that's all."
"Really, I'm not fooling; I know I ought to have had on the lavender--"
Tempest laughed. A jolly laugh it was, though it frequently preceded a
licking.
"You mean to say you sucked in all that rot? I thought I'd just see how
far you'd let yourself be humbugged; I'm sorry I didn't tell you to
stand on your head. I don't doubt you'd have done it."