Saurin’s master passion of vanity caused him to be fond of low company. This may sound odd to some, because many vain people are sycophants¹, who will do anything to be seen in the company of persons of title or high social position, and who cut the acquaintance of old friends, and even benefactors² when they dare and can do without them, when they are of inferior grade. These are contented³ to shine with a reflected light; but Saurin’s pride was of a different description, and he chafed⁴ at being a satellite, and always wanted to figure as a sun, the centre of his companions, who must revolve⁵ around him. How small a sun did not matter. And so, though really possessed⁶ of considerable abilities, he was happier when in the company of boors⁷ and clodhoppers, who owned his superiority and deferred⁸ to all he said, than he was with his equals, who presumed to question his opinions, differ in their tastes, and laugh at his failures. This natural disposition⁹ had, unfortunately, been fostered by circumstances. He was an only child, born in India, and had been sent over to England in his early infancy¹⁰, and committed to the care of an uncle. His parents died before they could come home, and he never knew them. His uncle and guardian¹¹ lost his wife very soon after the boy was sent to him. He was older and had settled in life very much earlier than his brother, and his two children (girls) were married and living, at a distance. He resided nominally¹² in the country, but after his wife’s death lived a great deal in London. So there was no one to look properly after the orphan¹³, who associated with grooms¹⁴ and gamekeepers, and played with the village boys. Unfortunately the best of these went to work, and it was only the idle good-for-nothings who were available as playmates. When his uncle had an inkling of what was going on he sent him to school, where he did not get on badly so far as learning was concerned, but unfortunately he did not unlearn the lessons taught him by bumpkin ne’er-do-weels, and when he went home for the holidays he renewed his acquaintance with them with fresh zest¹⁵. He had a good voice, and would sing to the revellers at harvest homes and other rural festivities as they sipped¹⁶ their ale, and delighted in their applause and wonder at his cleverness, and in the deference¹⁷ they paid him. When he went to Weston his ambition took at first a higher flight, and he dreamed of dominating the school. With this idea he began to study with some ardour, and his natural ability enabled him to make good progress. At all the games in which success brought consideration he also tried to attain¹⁸ proficiency¹⁹, and he endeavoured in every way he could think of to court popularity. But there were others as clever and cleverer than himself, as good and better at football, running, and cricket, and very many whose manners and disposition were more attractive. He had not got the patient persistency²⁰ of Tom Buller, or with his superior quickness he might have gone far towards success. But he wanted to establish his position at a jump, and every failure discouraged and irritated him. And so his efforts became more and more spasmodic, and he confined himself to trying to become the head of a clique²¹. But his overbearing vanity and selfishness would show itself too glaringly at times, and many who accepted him as a leader at first grew weary of him, and Edwards was his only really faithful follower²². Therefore he fell back upon Slam’s, where certain young farmers of the neighbourhood, for whom he sometimes provided drink, applauded his songs and jokes, and fooled him to the top of his bent²³. But he none the less chafed at his want of appreciation²⁴ in the school, and bitterly hated Crawley, who in a great measure filled the place which he coveted²⁵.  
Since the cricket match in which he had figured so ignominiously²⁶, Saurin had become a confirmed loafer, and frequented the old reprobate’s yard almost daily. And, indeed, a new attraction had been added to the establishment. Wobbler, the pedestrian, a candidate for the ten-miles championship of Somersetshire, was residing there during his training for that world-renowned contest. It cannot be correctly said that Wobbler was very good company, for indeed his conversational²⁷ powers were limited, which was perhaps fortunate, seeing that his language was not very choice when he did speak. But he was a man of varied²⁸ accomplishments²⁹; not only could he walk, but he could run, and swim, and box. Indeed he had only deserted³⁰ the pugilistic for the pedestrian profession because the former was such a poor means of livelihood³¹, closely watched as its members were by the police. Now, Saurin had long wished to learn to box, an art which was not included in the curriculum of the Weston gymnasium, and here was an opportunity. The professor’s terms were half-a-crown a lesson, provided there was a class of at least four. The ordinary allowance of pocket-money at Weston was eighteenpence a week, plus tips, plus what was brought back to school after the holidays. In the words of Mr Slam, “it wouldn’t run to it.” There were seven occasional frequenters of the forbidden yard who were anxious to acquire the rudiments³² of the noble art of self-defence, but half-a-crown a lesson was a prohibitive tariff³³. Indeed it seemed contrary to principle to pay to learn anything. Saurin hit on a way out of the difficulty; he wrote this letter to his guardian:
 
“My dear Uncle,—I should like to learn gymnastics, fencing, boxing, and those things, but the regular man appointed to teach such things here is a duffer, and makes it a bore, keeping you at dumb-bells and clubs and such stupid work for ever, just to make the course last out, for the charges are monstrous³⁴. And so, hearing about this, Professor Wobbler, a first-rate instructor³⁵, I am told, has engaged a room in the neighbourhood, where he gives lessons at half-a-crown each, or a course of ten for one pound. It has to be kept secret, because the man appointed by the school would have the boys forbidden to go there if he knew. If you don’t mind, will you please send the pound to me or to Professor Wobbler. I will send you his receipt if you pay him through me. Please do not mention the matter if it does not meet with your approval, as I should be very sorry to take the poor man’s bread out of his mouth.”
 
This part of the epistle, a cunning combination of the suppressio veri and suggestio falsi, was given to all the others who were in the plot to copy. I am sorry to say that in several instances, including those of Saurin and Edwards, it was successful, and the class was formed.
 
The professor was not beautiful to look at. His forehead was low and projecting, his eyes small, his nose flat, his lower jaw³⁶ square and massive. Neither were his words of instruction characterised by that elegance³⁷ which public lecturers often affect, but they were practical and to the point, which after all is the chief thing to be looked at.
 
“You stands easy like,” he said to Saurin, who was taking his first lesson in an unfurnished room of Slam’s house, the fine weather having terminated in a thunderstorm, and a wet week to follow. “Don’t plant your feet as if you meant to grow to the floor, and keep your knees straight—no, not stiff like that, I mean don’t bend them. You wants to step forwards or to step backwards³⁸, quick as a wink³⁹, always moving the rear foot first, or else you’d stumble over it and get off your balance, and that would give t’other a chance. You must be wary⁴⁰, wary, ready to step up and hit, or step back out of reach. Keep your heyes on t’other’s, and that will help you to judge the distance. Take ’em off for a bit of a second and you’ll have his mawley well on your nose at once. Now, your left arm and fut in advance, not too much; keep your body square to the front. Your right arm across, guarding what we calls the mark, that’s just above the belt, where the wind is. Let your left play up and down free, your foot and body moving with it graceful⁴¹ like. That’s better. Now, try to hit me in the face as hard as you can; you won’t do it, no fear; I should like to bet a pound to a shilling on that every time, and I won’t hold my hands up neither. It’s just to show yer what judging the distance is.”
 
Saurin hesitated at first, and hit gently; but urged to try his best he at last struck out sharply, but could not reach the professor’s visage. Sometimes he turned it slightly to the right, sometimes to the left, and the blow went past his ear. Some times he just drew his head back, and the pupil’s fist came to within an inch of what he called his nose, but never touched it. This was a way the professor had of showing his credentials—it was his unwritten diploma proving his efficiency to instruct in the noble art. After this the boxing gloves were put on, and the pupil was directed to walk round the professor in a springy manner, leading off at his face, the instructor throwing off the blows with an upward movement of the right arm. Next, after a pause for rest, they went on again, Saurin leading off, the professor parrying and returning the blow, slowly at first, then quicker as the pupil gained skill and confidence in warding⁴² off the hit. Then the instructor led off, and the pupil parried and returned. Then one, two, three, four. And so the first lesson ended, and Stubbs, who was another of the class, was taken in hand. Now Stubbs had naturally let his beloved Topper loose as he passed through the yard, and the dog followed him into the room where the lesson was going on. So long as Stubbs led off at the professor Topper was quiet and happy; his master he thought was worrying someone, it was his human equivalent to killing⁴³ a rat; but when the professor led off at him, the case was different, and Topper, without warning, went straight at the supposed assailant’s throat. Fortunately the professor had a bird’s-eye handkerchief round his neck, which protected it from the dog’s teeth, for Topper sprang right up and fixed⁴⁴ him. It was frightful⁴⁵ to look at, but Stubbs had the presence of mind to seize his animal round the throat with both hands immediately and drag him away; his teeth were so firmly set in the handkerchief that that came too. No one is a hero at all hours, and Wobbler came as near being frightened as a soldier or a pugilist can be supposed, without libel, to do. This made him angry, and he used language towards the dog and his anatomy⁴⁶, and his own anatomy, which is not customary in polite society. Stubbs carried the offender⁴⁷ down to his kennel⁴⁸ and chained him up, and on his return offered a peace-offering of beer, which was well meant but unkind, seeing that the professor was in training and restricted as to his potations. However, Topper’s fangs⁴⁹ had not broken the skin, thanks to the handkerchief, though certainly not to Topper. Mr Wobbler recovered his equanimity⁵⁰, and affably condescended⁵¹ to apologise for his remarks.
 
“I’m almost afeard as I swore, gents,” he observed, and his fear was certainly well founded. “I was a trifled startled, you see, and expressed myself as I felt, strong. Bull-terriers is nice dogs, and I’m very partial to them, in their proper place, but that’s not a hanging on to my wind pipe; at least that’s my opinion. But I’m sorry if I spoke⁵² rough, which is not in my habits. Nobody can say that Job Wobbler is uncivil to his backers or his patrons.”
 
A speech which was perhaps rather lacking in dignity for a professor. The lesson then went on, and was succeeded by others, sometimes in the room, sometimes in the orchard⁵³, according to the weather. And when the pupils had attained⁵⁴ a certain degree of proficiency they were paired off against one another, first for leads-off, at the head, parry and return at the body, stop and return at the head, and so forth⁵⁵. Finally, for loose sparring, the professor standing⁵⁶ by and stopping them when they got wild, or began punching indiscriminately. Saurin made considerable progress, and was a long way the best of the class—so much so, indeed, that he had to play lightly with the others, or they would not all set to with him. Even such a critic as Slam expressed his approval, and this superiority was sugar and sack to Saurin, being indeed the first consolation⁵⁷ he had received since the mortification⁵⁸ of being turned out of the eleven. But, alas⁵⁹! sparring was not a recognised item of Weston athletics⁶⁰, and he could not gain the applause of the whole school by his proficiency, which was only known to a very few of the initiated⁶¹. Unless, indeed,—and here a thought which had long lain dormant⁶² in his mind, for the first time assumed a distinct shape. Suppose he happened to come to an open outbreak with Crawley, and it ended in a fight, what an opportunity it would be to gratify his ambition and his hatred⁶³ at the same time! He did not actually plan anything of the kind, or say to himself that he would pick a quarrel. The idea was merely a fancy, a daydream⁶⁵. Man or boy must be bold as well as bad deliberately⁶⁶ to form a scheme for bringing about an encounter with a formidable enemy, and Saurin was not particularly bold, certainly not rashly so, and Crawley would be likely to prove a very awkward customer. Instructors⁶⁷ of any sort, whether they are professors of mathematics, or Hebrew, or of dancing, or boxing, have this in common, that they are sure to take a special interest in apt pupils; and so Mr Wobbler paid more attention to Saurin than to the others, and showed him certain tricks, feints, and devices which he did not favour everybody with. He also gave him some hints in wrestling, and taught him the throw called the cross-buttock. Saurin used likewise to go to the highroad along which the professor took his daily walks in preparation for his match, and sometimes held the stop-watch for him, and learned how to walk or run in a way to attain the maximum of speed with a minimum of exertion⁶⁸. The mere⁶⁴ learning to box, and the necessary association with a man like Wobbler, would not have done the boys much harm of itself. The deception⁶⁹ practised in order to obtain the money to pay him with, and the skulking⁷⁰ and dodging⁷¹ necessary for approaching and leaving Slam’s premises⁷² without being seen, were far more injurious to them, especially since the great freedom allowed to the boys at Weston was granted on the assumption that they would not take advantage of it to frequent places which were distinctly forbidden. And to do them justice, the great majority felt that they were on honour, and did not abuse the trust. But for Saurin, and for Edwards and a few others who followed Saurin’s lead, the mischief⁷³ did not end here. Mr Wobbler sometimes unbended—Mr Saurin was such a “haffable gent” there was no resisting him—and told anecdotes⁷⁴ of his past experiences, which were the reverse of edifying⁷⁵. It was a curious fact that every action upon which he prided himself, or which he admired in his friends, was of a more or less fraudulent nature; and Mr Slam, who was always present on these occasions, shared these sentiments, and contributed similar reminiscences of his own. It was true that the boys looked upon these two, and upon the young sporting farmers who sometimes dropped in, and boasted of poaching, and horse-cheating exploits in a spirit of emulation⁷⁶, as “cads,” who had a different code from their own; but it is very difficult to associate with persons of any station in life who think it clever to defraud⁷⁷ others, and consider impunity⁷⁸ as the only test of right or wrong, and to laugh at their dishonourable tricks, without blunting our own moral sense. We cannot touch pitch without being defiled⁷⁹.
 
Another great evil was the beer-drinking, at any time, whether they were thirsty or not, which went on. Worse still, spirits were sometimes introduced. The frequenters of Slam’s spent all their pocket-money at that place in one way or another; and the pity of it was, that most of them would much rather, certainly at starting, have laid it out in oyster-patties, strawberry messes, and ices, than in forming habits which they would very probably give their right arms to be rid of in after-life. The best hope for them, next to being found out, was that their course of boxing lessons would soon be over, and Mr Wobbler would go away to walk his match and clear out of the neighbourhood, and that then they would give up frequenting this disreputable hole before the bad habits which they were so sedulously⁸⁰ acquiring got a complete hold upon them. As it was at present, Topper was the only living being that had tried to do a good turn for them; if he had succeeded in worrying the professor, the whole clique would have broken up.