myself to his
notice.

In due time I reached Mr Sharpe's house. To my dismay the door stood
wide open, and the hall was crowded with fellows claiming their luggage
as it was being deposited by the railway van. As I arrived there was an
ominous silence, in the midst of which I stood on the step, and
carefully rung the bell marked, not "servants," but "visitors." No one
came, so after a due interval, and amid the smiles of the onlookers, I
mustered up resolution to ring again, rather louder. This time I had
not to wait long. A person dressed as a sort of butler, very red in the
face, emerged from a green baize door at the end of the passage and
advanced wrathfully.

"Which of you young gents keeps ringing the bell?" demanded he. "He's
to be made an example of this time. Oh, it was you, was it?" said he,
catching sight of me.

"Yes," said I. "Is Mr Sharpe at home?"

"At home?" demanded the official, redder in the face than ever. "You
seem to be pretty much at home." Then, apparently struck by my
appearance, he pulled himself up and honoured me with a long stare in
which all the assembled boys joined.

"Who is it?"

"One of the porters from the station, I should say, from the looks of
him," suggested a boy.

"Whoever it is, don't you ring that visitors' bell--do you hear?" said
the man-servant. "If you want anything, go round to the side door and
don't interfere with the young gentlemen."

"But I'm a new boy," said I. "I'm--I'm an exhibitioner;" at which there
was a great roar of laughter, which even my self-satisfaction could
hardly construe into jubilation.

I began to have a horrible suspicion that I had committed some great
_faux pas_ by ringing the visitors' bell, and blushed consciously, to
the increased amusement of my fellow "Sharpers."

"Can I see Mr Sharpe?" I inquired, thinking it best to take the bull
by the horns.

"Can't you wait?" said the servant. "Do you suppose the master has
nothing to do but run out and see--wild Indians?" Here followed another
laugh at my expense. "He'll see you quite soon enough."

Here a shove from behind precipitated me into the bosom of the speaker,
who returned me with thanks, and before I could apologise, into the
hands of the sender. Thence I found myself passed on by a side impetus
to a knot of juveniles, who, not requiring my presence, passed me on to
a senior standing by, who shot me back to a friend, who sent me forward
among the boxes into