e soon playing merrily with the
rest.

The first difficulty occurred after supper, and proved to be one of the
most serious I encountered during my stay in the school.

My mother had unpacked our trunks and arranged everything in order.
Among the articles were some which were new to the boys, and special
notice was attracted by several pairs of kid gloves and a box of pomade
which belonged in our pretty leather dressing-case, a gift from my
grandmother.

Dandified, or, as we should now term them, "dudish" affairs, were not
allowed at Keilhau; so various witticisms were made which culminated
when a pupil of about our own age from a city on the Weser called us
Berlin pomade-pots. This vexed me, but a Berlin boy always has an answer
ready, and mine was defiant enough. The matter might have ended here had
not the same lad stroked my hair to see how Berlin pomade smelt. From a
child nothing has been more unendurable than to feel a stranger's hand
touch me, especially on the head, and, before I was aware of it, I had
dealt my enemy a resounding slap. Of course, he instantly rushed at me,
and there would have been a violent scuffle had not the older pupils
interfered. If we wanted to do anything, we must wrestle. This suited
my antagonist, and I, too, was not averse to the contest, for I had
unusually strong arms, a well-developed chest, and had practised
wrestling in the Berlin gymnasium.

The struggle began under the direction of the older pupils, and the
grip on which I had relied did not fail. It consisted in clutching
the antagonist just above the hips. If the latter were not greatly my
superior, and I could exert my whole strength to clasp him to me, he
was lost. This time the clever trick did its duty, and my adversary was
speedily stretched on the ground. I turned my back on him, but he rose,
panting breathlessly. "It's like a bear squeezing one." In reply to
every question from the older boys who stood around us laughing, he
always made the same answer, "Like a bear."

I had reason to remember this very common incident in boy life, for
it gave me the nickname used by old and young till after my departure.
Henceforward I was always called "the bear." Last year I had the
pleasure of receiving a visit from Dr. Bareuther, a member of the
Austrian Senate and a pupil of Keilhau. We had not met for forty years,
and his first words were: "Look at me, Bear. Who am I?"

My brother had brought his nickname with him, and e