though its preparatory scenes take
place at school. Some preparatory scenes must take place at school; but
the drama generally terminates on the broader stage of the world. Who
cares for a rehearsal, save those who have taken part in it? I vow, if I
had never been at Tregear's I would skip the very mention of his name. As
it is, however, I often sigh to see the shadow of the elms clustering
around the playground, to watch the moonbeans illumine the ivied wall
opposite the dormitory window. I often dream that I am back again, a
Caesar-hating pupil.

Dr. Tregear, commonly called "Old Trigger," lived at Upperton, a suburb
of Eastbourne, and had accommodation for seventy boys, but during the
whole time I remained there we never had more than fifty. His
advertisements in local and London papers offering "Commercial training
for thirty guineas including laundress and books. Bracing air, gravel
soil, diet best and unlimited. Reduction for brothers," were glowing
enough, but they never whipped up business sufficiently to attract the
required number of boarders. Nevertheless, I must admit that old Trigger,
with all his faults and severity, was really good-hearted. He was a
little sniffing, rasping man, with small, spare, feeble, bent figure;
mean irregular features badly arranged round a formidable bent, broken
red nose; thin straggling grey hair and long grey mutton-chop whiskers;
constantly blinking little eyes and very assertive, energetic manners. He
had a constant air of objecting to everything and everybody on principle.
Knowing that I was an orphan he sometimes took me aside and gave me sound
fatherly advice which I have since remembered, and am now beginning to
appreciate. His wife, too, was a kindly motherly woman who, because being
practically homeless I was often compelled to spend my holidays at
school, seemed better disposed towards me than to the majority of the
other fellows.

Yes, I got on famously at Trigger's. Known by the abbreviated appellation
of "Scars," I enjoyed a popularity that was gratifying, and, bar one or
two sneaks, there was not one who would not do me a good turn when I
wanted it. The sneaks were outsiders, and although we did not reckon them
when we spoke of "the school," it must not be imagined that we forgot to
bring them into our calculations in each conspiracy of devilment, nor to
fasten upon them the consequences of our practical jokes.

My best friend was a mystery. His name was Omar San