He had put on his Sunday clothes, not without a pang at the extravagance in dress which his rise in life entailed. Nobody in the office seemed to have heard of his promotion, for the other clerks took no notice of him on his entrance, evidently supposing that he had been sent for, as was frequently the case, to take some message or to do some errand which required a trustworthy messenger. When, after being called into the inner office, he came out again and took his place at a desk among the rest there was a burst of astonishment, amusement, and some contempt at his expense. And when the truth became known that he had come among them to stay, he straight from the coalyard and the mill and the shed outside, the feelings of all the young gentlemen found vent in “chaff” of a particularly merciless kind. His accent, his speech, his dress, his look, his walk, his manner, all formed themes for the very easiest ridicule. Never before had they had such an opportunity, and they made the most of it. But if they thought to make life in the office unbearable for Bram they had reckoned without their host. Bram cased himself in an armor of stolid good humor, joined in the laugh against himself, and in affecting to try to assume their modes of speech and manner contrived to burlesque them at least as well as they had mimicked him. And the end of it was that the fun languished all too soon for their wishes, and Bram when he left the office that afternoon, and wiped his face as he used to do after another sort of fiery ordeal, congratulated himself on having got through the day better than he had expected. Christian Cornthwaite ran out after him, and slapped him on the back. “Well, Elshaw,” cried he, “and how do you feel after it?” “Much t’ same as Dan’l did when he’d come out of t’ den o’ lions, sir,” replied Bram grimly. “T’ young gentlemen in there,” and he pointed with his thumb over his shoulder, “doan’t find me grand enough for’em.” “And so you want to go back to the works, Bram?” “No fear, sir,” answered the new clerk dryly. “They’ll get used to me, or else maybe I shall get used to them. Or wi’ so many fine patterns round me maybe Ah shall be a polished gentleman myself presently.” “No doubt of it, Bram. But you’ve been rather roughly treated. It ought to have been managed gradually, bit by bit, and then at last, when you took your place in the office, I ought to have sent you to my own tailor first, and had you properly rigged out.” Bram looked down ruefully at his Sunday clothes. “Ah felt a prince in these last evening,” he expostulated. Christian laughed heartily. “Well, they couldn’t beat you at the main things, Elshaw, at writing and spelling and calculating, eh?” “No,” answered Bram complacently. “Ah could beat most of ’em there.”