"All serene," said I, "if you'll promise the same." "Yes," said he. "Mind, honour bright, Fred." And so we parted, he to pace up and down the street for a long quarter of an hour, and I to present myself before the awful presence of Messrs. Merrett, Barnacle, and Company. If all the youths who had flocked with me from the station in the direction of Hawk Street had been bound (as my fears had suggested), for this place, they would have found themselves rather cramped for room by the time they were all assembled; for the first-floor offices which I entered were decidedly limited in their capacity. I, who had been expecting at least a place capable of holding several scores of clerks, was somewhat taken aback to find myself in a counting-house which accommodated only half a score, and even that at rather close quarters. In fact, I was so much taken aback that, although I had seen the name plainly inscribed on the door, I was constrained to inquire on entering, "Is this Messrs. Merrett, Barnacle, and Company's office, please?" "Yes," said one of the clerks, shortly, "what about it?" "Oh, if you please," I began, "I've come to--that is I've--" "Come, out with it, can't you?" said the clerk. "It's the situation," said I, feeling very uncomfortable. "Well, what about it?" said the clerk, who, evidently cheered by the smiles of his fellow-clerks, thought it a good joke to browbeat a poor green country boy. "Only I've come after it," faltered I. "Have you, though? And who told you to do that, I'd like to know?" "My uncle--that is I had a letter--" but here a general laugh interrupted my confession, and I felt very foolish indeed. "So you've got an uncle, have you? Do you ever lend him your gold watch?" This witticism was lost on me. I didn't see the connection between my uncle borrowing my gold watch (if I had had one), and the situation at Messrs. Merrett, Barnacle, and Company's. But it would never do to make myself disagreeable. "I've not got a gold watch, or a silver one either," I said. This seemed to occasion fresh merriment among my catechist and his fellows. "Why don't you say who told you to come?" demanded the clerk. "I did say," mildly replied I. "I got a letter." "What's that to do with it? I got a letter to-day, didn't I, Wallop, to tell me my washerwoman had changed her address. But that's no reason for my coming here." This was perfectly sound reasoning. So I amended my explanation. "I got a letter from Merrett, Barnacle, and Company.--" "_Messrs_. Merrett, Barnacle, and Company, if you please," put in the clerk. "I beg your pardon," said I, "from Messrs. Merrett, Barnacle, and Company, telling me to be here at 10:15." "Oh. Why didn't you say that before? What's the use of prevaricating when it's just as easy to tell the truth straight out, eh? What's the time now?" "Twenty past," said I, looking at the clock. "And you call that punctual? That's a nice beginning, anyhow. What's your name?"