ellows. He had
a select band of admirers among the youth of the Second-Form, who
cackled round him like hens round a bantam. Together they groaned over
their Latin exercises and wrestled with their decimals; together they
heard the dreaded summons to the master's desk; and side by side, I am
sorry to say, they held out their open palms to receive his cane. If a
slate bearing on its surface an outline effigy of the gentleman who
presided over the lessons of the class was brought to light, and the
names of its perpetrators demanded, Charlie's hand would be seen among a
forest of other upraised, ink-stained hands, and he would confess with
contrition to having contributed the left eye of the unlucky portrait.
And if, amid the solemn silence which attended a moral discourse from
the master on the evils of gluttony, a sudden cataract of nuts, apples,
turnips, and jam sandwiches on to the floor should drown the good man's
voice, Charlie would be one of the ill-starred wights who owned to a
partnership in the bag of good things which had thus miserably burst,
and would proceed with shame first to crawl and grope on the dusty floor
to collect his contraband possessions, and then solemnly to deposit the
same jam, turnips, and all, on the desk of the offended dominie as a
confiscated forfeit.

By these and many other like experiences Charlie identified himself with
his comrades, and established many and memorable bonds of sympathy. He
took the allegiance of his followers and the penalties of his masters in
equal good part. He was not the boy to glory in his scrapes, but he was
the boy to get into them, and once in, no fear of punishment could make
a tell-tale, a cheat, or a coward of him.

With the elder boys he was also a favourite, for what big boy does not
take pride in patronising a plucky, frank youngster? Patronising with
Charlie did not mean humiliation. It is true he would quake at times in
the majestic company of the heroes of the Sixth Form, but without
hanging his head or toadying. It is one thing to reverence a fellow-
being, and another to kneel and lick his boots.

Altogether Charlie had what is called "fallen on his feet" at
Randlebury. By the end of two months he was as much at home there as if
he had strutted its halls for two years. His whistle was as shrill as
any in the lobbies, and Mrs Packer stuck her fingers in her ears when
he burst into her parlour to demand a clean collar. He had already
si