“Feel that much? Good cane, isn’t it? Now the other two will be easy.”
To do him justice they were, or would have been had they not fallen uncomfortably near the site of the first.
“Stick the cane back,” said he,—“and look here,” he added in the old friendly way which always captivated me, “if you’ll take any advice you’ll drop playing the fool. It may be funny, but it doesn’t pay. Fellows get bored by it.”
“But I really—”
“I know you can’t help it. Your best dodge is to lie low for a bit, and keep out of everybody’s way.”
“I never meant—”
“Of course you didn’t. You can’t help being an ass, but don’t swagger or brag about it. Go easy—and, by the way, whatever you do, forget you’re an exhibitioner. It’s not your fault, I know, but it’s a sort of thing to be lived down up here. Be nobody, that’s the rule! then you’ll worry through.”
“But you were an exhibitioner, Tempest,” I suggested, “weren’t you?”
“Yes, but I kept it dark. Do you know the chap who asked me to tea?”
“No.”