Taking him at the end of the first week one finds simple bewilderment
and also a conviction that silence is the best policy. He was placed in
the lowest form because of his ignorance of Latin and Mathematics, and
here every one was younger and weaker. During school hours there was
comparative peace, and he sat with perplexed brow and inky fingers, or
was sent down to the bottom for inattention. It was not inattention but
rather a complete incapacity for grasping the system on which everything
worked. Meanwhile in this first week he had earned a reputation and
made three friends, and although he did not know it that was not a bad
beginning.
On the day after his arrival Peter, after midday dinner, standing
desolately in the playground and feeling certain that he ought to be
playing football somewhere but completely ignorant as to the place where
lists commonly hung, saw another new boy and hailed him. This boy he had
noticed before--he was shapeless of body, with big, round, good-tempered
eyes, and he moved more slowly than any one whom Peter had ever seen.
Nothing stirred him; he did not mind it when his ears were pulled or his
arms twisted, but only said slowly, “Oh, drop it!” To this wonderful boy
Peter made approach.
“Can you tell me where the lists are for football? I ought to have been
playing yesterday only I didn't know where to look.”
The slow boy smiled. “I'm going to look myself,” he said, “come on.”
And then two things happened. First sauntering down the playground there
came a boy whom Peter had noticed on that first morning in school--some
one very little older than Peter and not very much bigger, but with a
grace, a dignity, an air that was very wonderful indeed. He was a dark
boy with his hair carelessly tossed over his forehead; he was very clean
and he had beautiful hands. To Peter's rough and clumsy figure he seemed
everything that a boy should be, and, in his mind, he had called him
“Steerforth.” As this boy approached there suddenly burst into view a
discordant crowd with some one in their midst. They were shouting and
laughing, and Peter could hear that some one was crying. The crowd
separated and formed a ring and danced shouting round a very small and
chubby boy who was standing crying quite desperately, with his head
buried in his arm. Every now and then the infant was knocked by one
boy in the ring into another boy's arms, and so was tossed from side to
side.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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