found, to his
disgust, that he had to varnish Trieve's patent-leathers for Sunday.
Trieve was second in command, and had been known as "Miss" Trieve.
John would have gladly done this and more for Lawrence, his fag-master;
but Lawrence, a manly youth, scorned sybaritic services. The
Caterpillar taught John to carry his umbrella unfolded, to wear his
"straw" straight (a slight list to port was allowed to "Bloods" only),
not to walk in the middle of the road, and so forth. How he used to
envy the members of the Elevens as they rolled arm-in-arm down the High
Street! How often he wondered if the day would ever dawn when Caesar
and he, outwardly and inwardly linked together, would stroll up and
down the middle-walk below the Chapel Terrace: that sunny walk, whence,
on a fair day, you can see the insatiable monster, London, filling the
horizon and stretching red, reeking hands into the sweet country--the
middle-walk, from which all but Bloods were rigidly excluded.

Much to his annoyance--an annoyance, be it said, which he managed to
hide--John seemed to attract young Kinloch almost as magnetically as he
himself was attracted to Caesar. John had not the heart to shake off
the frail delicate child, who was christened "Fluff" after his first
appearance in public. Fluff had taken the First Fourth and ingenuously
confessed to any one who cared to listen that he ought to have gone to
Eton. A beast of a doctor prescribed the Hill. And even the almighty
duke failed to get him into Damer's, another grievance. He had been
entered since birth at the crack house at Eton; and now to be
pitchforked into Dirty Dick's at Harrow----! The Duffer kicked him,
feeling an unspeakable cad when poor Fluff burst into tears.

"Sorry," said the Duffer. "Only you mustn't slang Harrow. And you'd
better get it into your silly head that it's the best school in this or
any other world--isn't it, Demon?"

"I'm sure the Verneys, and the Egertons, and the Duffs have always
thought so."

"But it isn't really," whimpered poor Fluff. "You fellows know that
everybody talks of Eton and Harrow. Who ever heard of Harrow and Eton?
People say--I've heard my eldest brother, Strathpeffer, say it again
and again--'Eton and Harrow,' just as they say 'Gentlemen and Players.'"

"Oh," said the Caterpillar. "The Etonians are the gentlemen--eh?
Well, Fluff, after their performance at Lord's last year, you couldn't
expect us to admit that they're--players."