rs.

After a cordial greeting from Barop, we had desks assigned us in the
schoolroom, which were supplied with piles of books, writing materials,
and other necessaries. Ludo's bed stood in the same dormitory with mine.
Both were hard enough, but this had not damped our gay spirits, and when
we were taken to the other boys we were soon playing merrily with the
rest.

The first difficulty occurred after supper, and proved to be one of the
most serious I encountered during my stay in the school.

My mother had unpacked our trunks and arranged everything in order. Among
the articles were some which were new to the boys, and special notice was
attracted by several pairs of kid gloves and a box of pomade which
belonged in our pretty leather dressing-case, a gift from my grandmother.

Dandified, or, as we should now term them, "dudish" affairs, were not
allowed at Keilhau; so various witticisms were made which culminated when
a pupil of about our own age from a city on the Weser called us Berlin
pomade-pots. This vexed me, but a Berlin boy always has an answer ready,
and mine was defiant enough. The matter might have ended here had not the
same lad stroked my hair to see how Berlin pomade smelt. From a child
nothing has been more unendurable than to feel a stranger's hand touch
me, especially on the head, and, before I was aware of it, I had dealt my
enemy a resounding slap. Of course, he instantly rushed at me, and there
would have been a violent scuffle had not the older pupils interfered. If
we wanted to do anything, we must wrestle. This suited my antagonist, and
I, too, was not averse to the contest, for I had unusually strong arms, a
well-developed chest, and had practised wrestling in the Berlin
gymnasium.

The struggle began under the direction of the older pupils, and the grip
on which I had relied did not fail. It consisted in clutching the
antagonist just above the hips. If the latter were not greatly my
superior, and I could exert my whole strength to clasp him to me, he was
lost. This time the clever trick did its duty, and my adversary was
speedily stretched on the ground. I turned my back on him, but he rose,
panting breathlessly. "It's like a bear squeezing one." In reply to every
question from the older boys who stood around us laughing, he always made
the same answer, "Like a bear."

I had reason to remember this very common incident in boy life, for it
gave me the nickname used by old and young till af