a lower clerkship in the Civil
Service. But to us youngsters he always appeared a Duke of Wellington in
embryo, and under other circumstances might, perhaps, have become one.

"Yes," I answered. As a matter of fact it was my one accomplishment, and
rumour of it maybe had reached him.

"Run round the playground twice at your fastest," he commanded; "let me
see you."

I clinched my fists and charged off. How grateful I was to him for
having spoken to me, the outcast of the class, thus publicly, I could
only show by my exertions to please him. When I drew up before him I was
panting hard, but I could see that he was satisfied.

"Why don't the fellows like you?" he asked bluntly.

If only I could have stepped out of my shyness, spoken my real thoughts!
"O Lord of the Lower Fourth! You upon whom success--the only success in
life worth having--has fallen as from the laps of the gods! You to whom
all Lower Fourth hearts turn! tell me the secret of this popularity. How
may I acquire it? No price can be too great for me to pay for it. Vain
little egoist that I am, it is the sum of my desires, and will be till
the long years have taught me wisdom. The want of it embitters all my
days. Why does silence fall upon their chattering groups when I draw
near? Why do they drive me from their games? What is it shuts me out
from them, repels them from me? I creep into the corners and shed
scalding tears of shame. I watch with envious eyes and ears all you
to whom the wondrous gift is given. What is your secret? Is it Tommy's
swagger? Then I will swagger, too, with anxious heart, with mingled fear
and hope. But why--why, seeing that in Tommy they admire it, do they
wait for me with imitations of cock-a-doodle-do, strut beside me
mimicking a pouter pigeon? Is it Dicky's playfulness?--Dicky, who runs
away with their balls, snatches their caps from off their heads, springs
upon their backs when they are least expecting it?

"Why should Dicky's reward be laughter, and mine a bloody nose and a
widened, deepened circle of dislike? I am no heavier than Dicky; if
anything a pound or two lighter. Is it Billy's friendliness? I too
would fling my arms about their necks; but from me they angrily wrench
themselves free. Is indifference the best plan? I walk apart with step I
try so hard to render careless; but none follows, no little friendly
arm is slipped through mine. Should one seek to win one's way by kind
offices? Ah, if one could! How I wou