ce in his
confidence gradually lead him step by step to the real stuff. He will
follow you, if you only make out you like what he likes. A boy hates the
superior attitude of 'Oh, quite good in its way, of course.' A master
must get to the boy's level; it is fatuous to try and drag the boy to
his at once." And there is abundant proof to show that this plan was a
success. When Ferrers first came, Foster, for example, read nothing but
Kipling and Guy Boothby. During his last term Gordon found him absorbed
in _Vanity Fair_ and _The Duchess of Malfi_. It would be difficult to
over-estimate the good Ferrers did at Fernhurst. From afar Gordon
worshipped him. He learnt from Foster what Ferrers had read to his form
and what he recommended them to read, and as soon as he could he
borrowed or bought the book. The school book-shop about this time began
to find in Gordon its most generous patron. At times Gordon would tell
Foster to ask Ferrers questions that interested him. And the answers,
usually a little vague and elastic, spurred Gordon on to fresh fields.
His taste was beginning to grow, and football "shop" was no longer his
only topic of conversation.

CHAPTER IV: THIRDS

There was only one thing that at all worried Gordon just now, and that
was the behaviour of the Hazlitt brethren. Mention has already been made
of this couple. During their first few terms they gave every promise of
developing into the very worst types that banality and athletic success
can produce, and these expectations had been abundantly fulfilled. The
elder brother had his points, but they were few, the chief one being
that he was fairly good at games, which, after all, is but a negative
quality. But the younger, who was as useless as he was generally
officious, was entirely devoid of any redeeming feature. His ways were
the ways of a slum child playing in the gutter, and his sense of humour
was limited to shouting rude remarks after other people, knocking off
hats, and then running away. His language was foul enough to disgust
even a Public School's taste. Gordon loathed him. One evening he and
Lovelace discussed the child.

"Look here," said Gordon, "it's no good, this. That unutterable little
tick Hazlitt knocked off my hat as I was looking at the notice-board
to-day, and I am not going to stand it. By the time I had turned round
he was half-way across the courts."

"The little swine! He is not fit to be in a decent school. If he can't
g