To my astonishment I got up thoroughly refreshed when called at sunrise. There was not a suggestion of wine or its effects in my head.

“ItⒶ was all a dream,” I said, gratefully.Ⓐ “I can get along without the mate to it.”

By and by, on a stairway I met 44 coming up with a great load of wood, and he said, beseechingly,

“You will come again to-night, won't you?”

“Lord! I thought it was a dream,” I said, startled.

“Oh, no, it was not a dream. I should be sorry, for it was a pleasant night for me, and I was so grateful.”Ⓐ

There was something so pathetic in his way of saying it that a great pity rose up in me and I said impulsively,

“I'll come if I die for it!”

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He looked as pleased as a child, and said,

“It's the same phrase, but I like it better this time.” Then he said, with delicate consideration for me, “Treat me just as usual when others are around; it would injure you to befriend me in public, and I shall understand and not feel hurt.”

“You are just lovely!” I said, “and I honor you, and would brave them all if I had been born with any spirit—which I wasn't.”

He opened his big wondering eyes upon me and said,

“Why do you reproach yourself? You did not make yourself; how then are you to blame?”

HowⒶ perfectly sane and sensible that was—yet I had never thought of it before, nor had ever heard even the wisest of the professionally wise people say it—nor anything half so intelligent and unassailable, for that matter. It seemed an odd thing to get it from a boy, and he a vagabond landstreicher at that. At this juncture a proposition framed itself in my head, but I suppressed it, judging that there could be no impropriety in my acting upon it without permission if I chose. HeⒶ gave me a bright glance and said,

“Ah, you couldn't if you tried!”

“Couldn't what?”

“Tell what happened last night.”

“Couldn't I?”

“No. Because I don't wish it. What I don't wish, doesn't happen. I'm going to tell you various secrets by and by, one of these days.Ⓐ You'll keep them.”

“I'm sure I'll try to.”

“Oh, tell them if you think you can!Ⓐ Mind, I don't say you shan't, I only say you can't.”

“Well, then, I shan't try.”

Then Ernest came whistling gaily along, and when he saw 44 he cried out,

“Come, hump yourself with that wood, you lazy beggar!”

I opened my mouth to call him the hardest name in my stock, but nothing would come. I said to myself, jokingly, “Maybe it's because 44 disapproves.”

Forty-FourⒶ looked back at meⒶ over his shoulder and said,

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“Yes, that is it.”

TheseⒶ things were dreadfully uncanny, but interesting. I went musing away, saying to myself, “he mustⒶ have read my thoughts when I was minded to ask him if I might tell what happened last night.”Ⓐ He called back from far up the stairs,

“I did!”

[ ] Ⓐ

Breakfast was nearingⒶ a finish. The master had been silent all through it. ThereⒶ was something on his mind; all could see it. When he looked like that, it meant that he was putting the sections of an important and perhaps risky resolution together, and bracing up to pull it off and stand by it. Conversation had died out; everybody was curious, everybody was waiting for the outcome.

Forty-FourⒶ was putting a log on the fire. The master called him. The general curiosity rose higher still, now. The boy came and stood respectfully before the master, who said,

“Forty-Four, I have noticed—Forty-Four is correct, I believe?—”

The boy inclined his head and added gravely,

“New Series 864,962.”

“We will not go into that,” said the master with delicacy, “that is your affair and I conceive that into it charity forbids us to pry. I have noticed, as I was saying, that you are diligent and willing, and have borne a hard lot these several weeksⒶ with exemplary patience. There is much to your credit, nothing to your discredit.”

The boy bentⒶ his head respectfully, the master glanced down the table, noted the displeasure along the line, then went on.

“You have earned friends, and it is not your fault that you haven't them. You haven't one in the castle, except Katrina. It is not fair. I am going to be your friend myself.”

The boy's eyes glowed with happiness, Maria and her mother tossed their heads and sniffed, but there was no other applause. The master continued.

“You deserve promotion, and you shall have it. Here and now I raise you to the honorable rank of apprenticeⒺ to the printer's art, which is the noblest and the most puissant of all arts, and destined in the ages to come to promoteⒶ the others and preserve them.”

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And he rose and solemnly laid his hand upon the lad's shoulder like a king delivering the accolade. Every man jumped to his feet excited and affrontedⒶ, to protest against this outrage, this admission of a pauper and tramp without name or family toⒶ the gate leading to the proudⒶ privileges and distinctions and immunities of their great order; but the master's temper was up, and he said he would turn adrift any man that opened his mouth; and he commanded them to sit down, and they obeyed, grumbling, and pretty nearly strangled with wrath. Then the master sat down himself, and began to question the new dignitary.

“This is one of the learned professions. Have you studied the Latin, Forty-Four?”

“No, sir.”

Everybody laughed, but not aloud.

“The Greek?”

“No, sir.”

Another clandestine laugh; and this same attention greeted all the answers, one after the other. But the boy did not blush, nor look confused or embarrassed; on the contrary he looked provokingly contented and happy and innocent. I was ashamed of him, and felt for him; and that showed me that I was liking him very deeply.

“The Hebrew?”Ⓐ

“No, sir.”

“Any of the sciences?—the mathematics? astrology? astronomy? chemistry? medicine? geography?”

As each in turn was mentioned, the youth shook his untroubled head and answered “No, sir,” and at the end said,

“None of them, sir.”

The amusement of the herd was almost irrepressible by this time; and on his side the master's annoyance had risen very nearly to the bursting point. He put in a moment or two crowdingⒶ it down, then asked,

“Have you ever studied anything?”

“No, sir,” replied the boy, as innocently and idiotically as ever.

The master's project stood defeated all along the line! It was a critical moment. Everybody's mouth flew open to let go a trium-

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phantⒶ shout; but the master, choking with rage,Ⓐ rose to the emergency,Ⓐ and it was his voice that gotⒶ the innings:

“By the splendor of God I'll teach you myself!”

It was just grand! But it was a mistake. It was all I could do to keep from raising a hurrah for the generous old chief. But I held in. From the apprentices' table in the corner I could see every face, and I knew the master had made a mistake. I knew those men. They could stand a good deal, but the master had played the limit, as the saying is, and I knew it. He had struck at their order, the appleⒶ of their eye, their pride, the darling of their hearts, their dearest possession, their nobility—as they ranked it and regarded it—and had degraded it. They would not forgive that.Ⓐ They would seek revenge, and find it. This thing that we had witnessed, and which hadⒶ had the form and aspect of a comedy, was a tragedy. It was a turning point. There would be consequences. In ordinary casesⒶ where there was matter for contention and dispute, there had always beenⒶ chatter and noise and jaw, and a general row; but now the faces were black and ugly, and not a word was said. It was an omen.Ⓐ

We three humble ones sat at our small table staring; and thinking thoughts. Barty looked pale and sick. Ernest searched my face with his evil eyes, and said,

“I caught you talking with the Jail-BirdⒶ on the stairs. You needn't try to lie out of it, I saw you.”

All the blood seemed to sink out of my veins, and a cold terror crept through me. In my heart I cursed the luck that had brought upon me that exposure. What should I do? What could I do? What could I say in my defence? I could think of nothing; I had no words, I was dumb—and that creature's merciless eyes still boring into me. He said,

“Say—you are that animal'sⒶ friend. Now deny it if you can.”Ⓐ

I was in a bad scrape. He would tell the men, and I shouldⒶ be an outcast, and they would make my life a misery to me. I was afraid enough of the men, and wished there was a way out, but I saw there was none, and that if I did not want toⒶ complete my disaster I must pluck up some heart and not let this brute put me under his

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feet. I wasn't afraid of him, at any rate; even myⒶ timidity had its limitations. So I pulled myself together and said,

“It's a lie. I did talk with him, and I'll do it again if I want to, but that's no proof that I'm his friend.”

“Oho, so you don't deny it! That's enough. I wouldn't be in your shoes for a good deal. When the men find it out you'll catch it, I can tell you that.”

That distressed Barty, and he begged Ernest not to tell on me, and tried his best to persuade him; but it was of no use. He said he would tell if he died for it.

“Well, then,” I said, “go ahead and do it; it's just like your sort, anyway. Who cares?”

“Oh, you don't care, don't you? Well, we'll see if you won't. And I'll tell them you're his friend, too.”

If that should happen! The terror of it roused me up, and I said,

“Take that back, or I'll stick this dirkⒶ into you!”

He was badly scared, but pretended he wasn't, and laughed a sickly laugh and said he was only funning. That ended the discussion, for just then the master rose to go, and we had to rise, too, and look to our etiquette. I was sufficiently depressed and unhappy, for I knew there was sorrow in store for me. Still, there was one comfort: I should not be charged with being poor 44's friend, I hoped and believed; so matters were not quite soⒶ calamitous for me as they might have been.Ⓐ

[ ] Ⓐ

We filedⒶ up to the printing rooms in the usual order of precedence, I following after the last man, Ernest following after me, and Barty after him. Then came 44.

Forty-Four would have to do his studying after hours. During hours he would now fill Barty's former place and put in a good deal of his time in drudgery and dirty work; and snatchⒶ such chances as he could, in the intervals, to learn the first steps of the divine art—composition, distribution and the like.

Certain ceremonies were Forty-Four's due whenⒶ as an accredited apprentice he crossed the printing-shop's threshold for the first time. He should have been invested with a dagger, for he was now

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privileged to bear minorⒶ arms—foretaste and reminder of the future still prouder day when as a journeyman he would take the rank of a gentleman and be entitled to wear a sword. And a red chevron should have been placed upon his left sleeve to certify to the world his honorable new dignity of printer's apprentice.Ⓐ These courtesiesⒶ were denied him, andⒶ omitted. He entered unaccosted and unwelcomed.

The youngest apprentice should now have taken him in charge and begun to instruct him in the rudimentary duties of his position. Honest little Barty was commencingⒶ this service, but KatzenyammerⒶ the foreman stopped him, and said roughly,

“Get to your case!”

So 44 was left standing alone in the middle of the place. He looked about him wistfully, mutely appealing to all faces but mine, but no one noticed him, no one glanced in his direction, or seemed aware that he was there. In the corner old Binks was bowed over a proof-slip; KatzenyammerⒶ was bendingⒶ over the imposing-stone making up a form; Ernest, with ink-ball and coarse brush was proving a galley; I was overrunningⒶ a page of Haas's to correct an out; Fischer, with paste-pot and brown linen, was new-covering the tympan; Moses was setting type, pulling down his guide for every line, weaving right and left, bobbing over his case with every type he picked up, fetching the box-partition a wipe with it asⒶ he broughtⒶ it away, making two false motions before he put it in the stickⒶ and a third one with a click on his rule, justifying like a rail fence, spacing like an old witch's teeth—hair-spaces and m-quads turn about—Ⓐjust a living allegory of falseness and pretence from his green silk eye-shade down to his lifting and sinkingⒶ heels, making show and bustleⒶ enough for 3,000 an hour, yet never good for 600 on a fat take and double-leaded at that. It was inscrutable that God would endure a compⒶ like that, and lightning so cheap.

It was pitiful to see that friendless boy standing there forlorn in that hostile stillness. I did wish somebody would relent and say a kind word and tell him something to do. But it could not happen; they were all waiting to see trouble come to him, all expecting it, all tremulously alert for it, all knowing it was preparing for him, and

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wondering whence it would come, and in what form, and who would invent the occasion. Presently they knew. KatzenyammerⒶ had placedⒶ his pages, separated them with reglets, removed the strings from around them, arranged his bearers; the chase was on, the sheep-foot was in his hand, he was ready to lock up. He slowly turned his head and fixed an inquiring scowl upon the boy. He stood so, several seconds, then he stormed out,

“Well, are you going to fetch me some quoins, or not?”

Cruel! How could he know what the strangeⒶ wordⒶ meant? He begged for the needed information with his eloquent eyes—the men were watching and exulting—KatzenyammerⒶ began to move toward him with his big hand spread for cuffing—ah, my God, IⒶ mustn't venture to speak, was there no way to save him? Then I had a lightning thought; would he gather it from my brain?—“Forty-FourⒶ, that's the quoin-box, under the stone table!”

In an instant he had it out and on the imposing-stone! He was saved. KatzenyammerⒶ and everybody looked amazed. And deeply disappointed.

For a while KatzenyammerⒶ seemed to be puzzling over it and trying to understand it; then he turned slowly to his work and selected some quoins and drove them home. The form was ready. He set that inquiring gaze upon the boy again. Forty-Four was watching with all his eyes, but it wasn't any use; how was he to guess what was wanted of him?Ⓐ KatzenyammerⒶ's face began to work, and he spat dry a couple of times, spitefully; then he shouted,

“Am I to do it—or who?”

I was ready this time. I said to myself, “Forty-Four, raise it carefully on its edge, get it under your right arm, carry it to that machine yonder, whichⒶ is the press, and lay it gently down flat on that stone, which is called the bed of the press.”

He went tranquilly to work, and did the whole thing as right as nails—did it like an old hand! It was just astonishing. There wasn't another untaught and unpractised person in all Europe who could have carried that great and delicate feat half-way through without piing the form. I was so carried away that I wanted to shout. But I held in.

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Of course the thing happened, now,Ⓐ that was to be expected. The men took Forty-Four for an old apprentice, a refugee flying from a hard master. They could not ask him, as to that, custom prohibiting it; but they could ask him other questions which could be awkward. They could be depended upon to do that. The men all left their work and gathered around him, and their ugly looks promised trouble. They looked him over silently—arranging their game, no doubt—he standing in the midst, waiting, with his eyes cast down. I was dreadfully sorry for him. I knew what was coming, and I saw no possibility of his getting out of the hole he was in. The very first question would be unanswerable, and quite out of range of help from me. Presently that sneering Moses Haas asked it:

“So you are an experienced apprentice to this art, and yet don't know the Latin!”

There it was! I knew it. But—oh, well, the boy was just an ever-fresh and competent mystery! He raised his innocent eyes and placidly replied,

“Who—I? Why yes, I know it.”

They gazed at him puzzled—stupefied, as you might say. Then KatzenyammerⒶ said,

“Then what did you tell the master that lie for?”

“I? I didn't know I told him a lie; I didn't mean to.”

“Didn't mean to? Idiot!Ⓐ he asked you if you knew the Latin, and you said no.”

“Oh, no,” said the youth, earnestly, “it was quite different. He asked me if I had studied it—meaning in a school or with a teacher, as I judged. Of course I said no, for I had only picked it up—from books—by myself.”

“Well, upon my soul, you are a purist, when it comes to cast-iron exactness of statement,” said KatzenyammerⒶ, exasperated. “Nobody knows how to take you or what to make of you; every time a person puts his finger on you you're not there. Can't you do anything but the unexpected? If you belonged to me, damned if I wouldn't drown you.”

“Look here, my boy,” said Fischer, not unkindly, “do you know

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—as required—the rudiments ofⒶ all those things the master asked you about?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Picked them up?”

“Yes, sir.”

I wished he hadn't made that confession. Moses saw a chance straightway:

“Honest people don't get into this profession on picked-up culture; they don't get in on odds and ends, they have to know the initial stages of the sciences and things. YouⒶ sneaked in without an examination, but you'll pass one now, or out you go.”

It was a lucky idea, and they all applauded. I felt more comfortable, now, for if he could take the answers from my head I could send him through safe. Adam Binks was appointed inquisitor, but I soon saw that 44 had no use for me. He was away up. I would have shown off if I had been in his placeⒶ and equipped as he was. But he didn't. In knowledge Binks was a child to him—that was soon apparent. He wasn't competent to examine 44; 44 took him out of his depth on every language andⒶ art and science, and if erudition had been water he would have been drowned. The men had to laugh, they couldn't help it; and if they had been manly men they would have softened toward their prey, but they weren't and theyⒶ didn't. Their laughter made Binks ridiculous, and he lost his temper; but instead of venting it on the laughers he let drive at the boy, the shameless creature, and would have felled him if Fischer hadn't caught his arm. Fischer got no thanks for that, and the men would have resented his interference, only it was not quite safe and they didn't want to drive him from their clique, anyway. They could see that he was at best only lukewarm on their side, and they didn't want to cool his temperature any more.

The examination-scheme was a bad failure—a regular collapse, in fact,—and the men hated the boy for being the cause of it, whereas they had brought it upon themselves. That is just like human beings. The foreman spoke up sharply, now, and told them to get to work; and said that if they fooled away any more of the

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shop's time he would dock them. Then he ordered 44 to stop idling around and get about his business. No one watched 44 now; they all thought he knew his duties, and where to begin. ButⒶ itⒶ was plain to me that he didn't; so I prompted him out of my mind, and couldn't keep my attention on my work, it was so interesting and so wonderful to see him perform.

Under my unspoken instructions he picked up all the good type and broken type from about the men's feet and put the one sort in the pi pile and the other in the hell-box; turpentined the inking-balls and cleaned them; started up the lyeⒶ-hopper; washed a form in the sink, and did it well; removed last week's stiff black towel from the roller and put a cleanⒶ one in its place; made paste; dusted out several cases with a bellows; made glue for the bindery; oiled the platen-springs and the countersunk rails of the press; put on a paper apron and inked the form while KatzenyammerⒶ worked off a token of signature 16 of a Latin Bible, and came out of the job as black as a chimney-sweep from hair to heels; set up pi; struck galley-proofs; tied up dead matter like an artist, and set it away on the standing galley without an accident; brought the quads when the men jeff'd for takes, and restored them whence they came when the lucky comps were done chuckling over their fat and the others done damning their lean; and would have gone innocently to the village saddler's after strap-oil and got itⒶ—on his rear—if it had occurred to the men to start him on the errand—a thing they didn't think of, they supposing he knew that sell by memorable experience; and so they lost the best chance they had in the whole day to expose him as an impostor who had never seen a printing-outfit before.

A marvelous creature; and he went through without a breakⒶ; but by consequence of my having to watch over him so persistently I set a proof that had the smallpox, and the foreman made me distribute his case for him after hours as a “lesson” to me. He was not a stingy man with that kind of tuition.Ⓐ

I had saved 44, unsuspected and without damage or danger to myself, and it made me lean toward him more than ever. That was natural.

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Then, when the day was finished, and the men were washing up and I was feeling good and fine and proud, Ernest Wasserman came out and told on me!