On Board the Esmeralda

"B'y fur Hellyer's, hey?"

I felt annihilated.

"Do you mean to ask whether I am the new pupil for Dr Hellyer's establishment?" I said--with some dignity, I flatter myself.

But that horrible porter was not a bit abashed!

"Yees," he drawled out in his cracked accents, with an intonation that clearly evinced the fact of his having been born in Sussex. "Hellyer's school i' the village, b'y, that's wat I mean! Y'er to come along o' me. Poot yer box on yer shoulder and crass the line, young maister, an' I'll shoo yer way down."

This was not to be borne.

I had been treated like a menial in my uncle's household, and had perforce to bear it, but I had made up my mind on leaving Tapioca Villa that I should never be so degraded again if I could possibly help it.

It wasn't likely, therefore, that I was now going to be at the beck and call of a railway porter, after all my boastful resolves--not quite!

I flew into a passion at once: I fe