lomew's Day," etc., etc., all of which masterpieces Mrs. Pendennis
kept along with his first socks, the first cutting of his hair, his
bottle and other interesting relics of his infancy. His genius at this
time was of a decidedly gloomy cast. He brought his mother a tragedy in
which, though he killed sixteen people before the second act, she laughed
so that he thrust the masterpiece into the fire in a pet. He also
projected an epic poem in blank verse, and several other classical pieces
of a gloomy character, and was altogether of an intense and sentimental
turn of mind quite in contrast with his practical and merry appearance.
The sentimental side of his nature, fed by the productions of his
favourite poets and fanned by the romantic temperament of his tutor, soon
found an object to kindle the spark into a blaze, and a most unfortunate
blaze for Pen.

While Mrs. Pendennis was planning her son's career and had not yet
settled in her mind whether he was to be Senior Wrangler and Archbishop
of Canterbury, or Double First Class at Oxford and Lord Chancellor, young
Pen himself was starting out on quite a different career, which seemed
destined to lead him in the opposite direction from that of his mother's
day-dreams, who had made up her mind that in time he was to marry little
Laura, settle in London and astonish that city by his learning and
eloquence at the Bar; or, better still, in a sweet country parsonage
surrounded by hollyhocks and roses close to a delightful, romantic,
ivy-covered church, from the pulpit of which Pen would utter the most
beautiful sermons ever preached.

While these plans and decisions were occupying his mother's thoughts,
Pen was getting into mischief. One day he rode into Chatteris to carry to
the County Chronicle a thrilling poem for the next week's paper; and
while putting up his horse at the stables at the George hotel, he fell in
with an old school-fellow, Mr. Foker, who after a desultory conversation
with Pen strolled down High Street with him, and persuaded him not only
to dine at the George with him, but to accompany him later to the
theatre. Mr. Foker, who was something of a sport, was acquainted with the
troupe who were then acting at that theatre, and the entire atmosphere
was so new and exciting to Pen that his emotional nature, which had been
waiting for many months for a sensational thrill, responded at once to
the idea; and later on to the applause of pit and gallery, and to the
pe