Chapter Two.
How strange it all seemed! I had ridden down the previous day by the Hastings coach, which had left me with my big box at the old inn at Middlehurst. Here the fly had been ordered to take me the remaining ten miles on to the school, where I had arrived just at dusk, and, after a supper of bread and milk, I was shown my bed, one of six in a large room, and made the acquaintance of Mercer, who, after pretty well peppering me with questions, allowed me to go to sleep in peace, till the bell rang at six, when I sprang out of bed, confused and puzzled at finding myself there instead of at home. Then, as the reality forced itself upon me, and I was scowled at by five sleepy boys, all in the ill-humoured state caused by being obliged to get up before they pleased, I hurriedly dressed, thinking that I could never settle down to such a life as that, and wondering what my uncle and my mother would say if I started off, went straight back, and told them I did not mean to stop at school.
Everything looked cheerless and miserable, for there was a thick fog outside, one which had been wafted over from the sea, so that there was no temptation to go out, and, in spite of my low spirits, I was hungry enough to make me long for breakfast.
This was laid for us in the schoolroom, to which the boys flocked, as the big bell on the top of the building rang out again, and here I found that there were two long tables, as I supposed, till I was warned about being careful, when I found that they were not tables, but the double school-desks with the lids of the boys’ lockers propped up horizontal.
“And if you don’t mind, down they come, and your breakfast goes outside instead of in,” said Mercer.
Milk and water and bread and butter, but they were good and plentiful, and though I was disappointed at first, and began thinking of the hot coffee at home, I made a better breakfast than I had expected; and in due course, after a walk round the big building, of which I could see nothing for the chilly fog, the bell rang again, and I had to hurry back into the schoolroom, taking a seat pointed out for me by Mercer, with the result related in the last chapter.
“Here, come along!” cried my new friend: “What a game! You are a good chap. I wish a new boy would come every day. Hooray! old Rebble’s off. Bet sixpence he goes down to the river bottom-fishing. He never catches anything. Goes and sits in his spectacles, blinking at his float, and the roach come and give it a bob and are off again long before he strikes. Hi yi yi yi!” he shouted; “here we are again!” and, jumping on to the form and from there to the desk, he bent down, took lightly hold of the sides, threw up his heels, and stood on his head.
“Here, look at old Mercer!” cried a boy.