Howard seemed much amused at all I told him, and said that the first thing he must teach me was to be a good “mill,”—that meant, how to use my fists. He did not mean to bother me with work, as he believed I wanted rest more than anything; but he promised to write to Hostler, and ask him to push me on, and he thought that, although it was difficult, yet it was by no means impossible I might pass.
On the following morning, soon after breakfast, Howard produced a pair of boxing-gloves, and, taking a seat on a chair, gave me instruction in what he called “the noble art of self-defence.” He first showed me how to stand, how to raise and hold my fists, how to strike out and make the foot and hand work together. He pointed out the danger of an open guard by giving me light taps in the face, and then explained how to guard them.
“We’ll have an hour a day at this fun,” he said, “while you are here, and I’ll back you to lick Fraser when you go back to Woolwich. There’s nothing that can’t be done by thought and work.”
During the week I passed with Howard I changed from a condition of despondency to one of Hope. I learnt from him the power to be derived from thought and work. He explained to me his own difficulties, and how he had overcome them, and encouraged me by saying that, although I was backward, he believed I had brains enough to come to the front after all. By constant practice I had become, as he said, quite a “dab” with my fists, and ought to hold my own with heavier weights than myself. “Don’t you ever seek a fight,” he advised, “if you are even sure to win, because that’s bad style; but, if a boy tries to bully you, never avoid a fight, and you’ll soon find you’ll lead an easier life, even though you get licked.”
I returned home from my visit to Howard with a lighter heart than I had gone there, for hope now took the place of despair. If I could only manage to pass into the Academy, I thought, what a triumph it would be! but then the knowledge of the work before me cropped up, and it seemed as impossible I could accomplish what I had to do as that I could accomplish flying, or any other impossibility. Any way, I would try hard on my return to Hostler’s, and perhaps he would now push me on faster than he had done before.
My three weeks soon passed, and I once more joined Hostler’s school at Woolwich. There were two new boys, who had, however, been to other schools, and were fairly forward both in Euclid and algebra, and got on very well after the first few days. I soon became better friends than I had been with Strong and two or three other boys; but Fraser, who was the bully of the school, was still very uncivil to me, and more than once had threatened to thrash me if I interfered with him.
Remembering the advice that Howard had given me, I told Strong one day that if Fraser gave me any reason for doing so, I intended to challenge him to fight. Strong warned me against doing anything so rash, for he assured me he knew a case where Fraser had completely cut a boy’s cheek open in a fight, and that I should not be able to stand up against him for five minutes.