Gedge, under whose imposing auspices Reginald was to begin his typographical career, was a diminutive youth who, to all outward appearances, was somewhere about the tender age of fourteen, instead of, as was really the case, being almost as old as Reginald himself. He was facetiously styled “Magog” by his shopmates, in allusion to his small stature, which required the assistance of a good-sized box under his feet to enable him to reach his “upper case.” His face was not an unpleasant one, and his voice, which still retained its boyish treble, was an agreeable contrast to that of most of the “gentlemen of the case” in Mr Durfy’s department.
For all that, Reginald considered himself much outraged by being put in charge of this chit of a child, and glowered down on him much as a mastiff might glower on a terrier who presumed to do the honour of his back yard for his benefit.
However, the terrier in this case was not at all disheartened by his reception, and said cheerily as he began to clear the frame,—
“You don’t seem to fancy it, I say. I don’t wonder. Never mind, I shan’t lick you unless you make me.”
“Thanks,” said Reginald, drily, but scarcely able to conceal a smile at this magnanimous declaration.
“Magog” worked busily away, putting away cases in the rack, dusting the frame down with his apron, and whistling softly to himself.
“Thanks for helping me,” said he, after a time, as Reginald still stood by doing nothing. “I could never have done it all by myself.”
Reginald blushed a little at this broad hint, and proceeded to lift down a case. But he nearly upset it in doing so, greatly to his companion’s horror.
“You’d better rest,” he said, “you’ll be fagged out. Here, let me do it. There you are. Now we’re ready to start you. I’ve a good mind to go and get old Tacker to ring up the big bell and let them know you’re just going to begin.”
Reginald could hardly be offended at this good-natured banter, and, as Gedge was after all a decent-looking boy, and aspirated his “h’s,” and did not smell of onions, he began to think that if he were doomed to drudge in this place he might have been saddled with a more offensive companion.