od on Mrs
Nash's doorstep with my trunk waiting to be let in.

A slatternly female, whom I supposed to be the servant, admitted me.

"Is Mrs Nash in?" said I.

"Yes, that's me," said the lady. "I suppose you're young Batchelor."

She spoke gruffly and like a person who was not very fond of boys.

"Yes," said I.

"All right," said she; "come in and bring your trunk."

I obeyed. The place looked very dark and grimy, far worse than ever
Stonebridge House had been. I followed her, struggling with my trunk,
up the rickety staircase of a house which a hundred years ago might have
been a stylish town residence, but which now was one of the forlornest
ghosts of a house you ever saw.

I found myself at last in a big room containing several beds.

"Here's where you'll sleep," said the female.

"Are there other boys here, then?" I asked, who had expected a solitary
lodging.

"Yes, lots of 'em; and a bad lot too."

"Are they Merrett, Barnacle, and Company's boys?" I inquired.

"Who?" inquired Mrs Nash, rather bewildered.

I saw my mistake in time. Of course this was a regular lodging-house
for office-boys generally.

"Leave your box there," said Mrs Nash, "and come along."

Leading to the floor below the dormitory, I was shown a room with a long
table down the middle, with a lot of dirty pictures stuck on the wall,
and one or two dirty books piled up in the corner.

"This is the parlour," said she. "Are you going to board, young man?"

I looked at her inquiringly.

"Are you going to get your grub here or out of doors?" she said.

"Do the other boys get it here?" I asked.

"Some do, some don't. What I say is, Are you going to or not?"

"What does it cost?" I said.

"Threepence breakfast and threepence supper," said Mrs Nash.

I longed to ask her what was included in the bill of fare for these
meals, but was too bashful.

"I think," said I, "I had better have them, then."

"All right," said she, shortly. "Can't have breakfast to-day; too late!
Supper's at nine, and lock-up at ten, there. Now you'd better cut, or
you'll be late at work."

Yes, indeed! It would be no joke to be late my first morning.

"Please," said I, "can you tell me the way to Hawk Street?"

"Where's that?" said Mrs Nash. "I don't know. Follow the tram lines
when you get out of the square, they'll take you to the City, and
then--"

At this moment a youth appeared in the passage about my age with a hat
on one side