Accordingly, as he sat down, he saw that numerous eyes were turned upon him and upon Tracy, who happened to sit at the same table. Tracy, unaccustomed to such very narrow scrutiny, blushed all over; and, as he in vain looked up and down, this way and that, his cheeks grew hotter and hotter, and he moved about in the most uneasy way, to the great amusement of his many tormentors, until at last his eyes subsided finally into his teacup, from which he did not again venture to raise them until tea was over. But Walter was at once up to the trick, and felt thoroughly obliged to Henderson and Kenrick for telling him of it. So he waited till he saw that a good dozen fellows were all intently staring at him; and then, looking up very simply and naturally, he met the gaze of two or three of them steadily in succession, and stared them out of countenance with a quiet smile. This turned the laugh against them; and he heard the remark that he was "up to snuff, and no mistake." No one ever tried to make Walter smoke again, but for some time it used to be a regular joke to pass round word at tea-time, "Let's make Tracy smoke," and as Tracy always _did_ smoke till he got thoroughly used to it, he was generally glad when tea-time was over. In spite of Henderson, who poked fun at them all tea-time (till he saw that he really embarrassed them, and then he desisted), Kenrick sat by Walter, and took him more or less under his protection; for an "old boy" can always patronise a newcomer at first, even if they are of the same age. From Kenrick Walter learnt, rather to his dismay, that he really would have no place to sit in except the big schoolroom, which he would share with some fifty others, and that he would be placed in a dormitory with at least five or six besides himself. "Have you been examined yet?" asked Kenrick. "No; but Dr Lane asked me what books I had read, and he told me that I was to go and take my chance in Mr Paton's form. What form is that?" "It's what we call the Virgil form. Have you ever read Virgil?" "No; at least only a few easy bits." "I wish you joy, then." "Why? what sort of a fellow is Mr Paton?" "Mr Paton? he's not a man at all; he's a machine; he's the wheel of a mill; he's a cast-iron automaton; he's--" "The abomination of desolation spoken of by Daniel the prophet," observed Henderson, who had caught a fragment of the conversation. "I'm in his form, too, worse luck!" "Hush! shut up, Henderson, and don't be profane," said Kenrick. "Well, Evson, you'll soon find out what Paton's like; anything but `a patten of bright gold' at any rate." "Oh! oh! turn him out for his bad pun," said Henderson, hitting him with a pellet of bread, for which offence he immediately received "fifty lines" from the master at the other end of the table. "Don't abuse Paton," said a boy named Daubeny, which name Henderson had long ago contracted into Dubbs. "I always found him a capital master to be under, and really very kind."