An unaccountable melancholy overcame me, as I rambled in this strain. I sighed: "I think I'm getting too old to be whacked." And, as I phrased the thought, walking dreamily outside the baths, the strangest thing of this evening happened. There seemed to be thrown over me, far more heavily than on that evening up the Fal, the shadow of my oncoming manhood. And with it came ineffable longings--longings to live, and to feel; to do, and to be. The vague wish to avoid the indignity of corporal punishment threw off its cloak and showed itself to be Aspiration. There, outside the baths, the AEsthetic awoke in me. The sensation, infinitely sad and yet pleasing, was so complete that it left me hot-cheeked and wondering.... In truth, so warm and all-pervading was it that the other day, when during a short leave from France I stood on the gravel that sweeps to the entrance of the baths, I felt the memory of that moment of yearning egoism hanging over the spot like a restless spirit of the past. Sec.4 The whole period of Preparation passed in suspense. And, when the bell had gone, Penny and I found our way to one of the Bramhall class-rooms, where I sat upon the hot-water pipes (the wisdom of which proceeding I have since doubted). After about five minutes there rushed in a bad little boy who, having more relish in the thought of his message than breath to deliver it, puffed out: "Oh, there you are. I've searched for you everywhere." Then he paused, recovered his breath, and actually pointed a finger at us, saying: "Ee, bless me, my men, Salome wants you in Radley's room." Penny took the small boy's head and banged it three times on a desk. In Radley's familiar room we found Salome, who no sooner saw me than he cried: "Ee, bless me, my man. Will you _take_--your _hand_--out of your _pocket_?" This was such a surprise that I blushed and--oh, accursed nervousness!--began to giggle. My terror at giggling in the Presence was so real that I compressed my lips to secure control. But control was as impossible as concealment. Salome came very close, pointed at my mouth, and said: "I think you're _giggling_. Take off that ridiculous expression, my man. I'm _going_--to _smack_--your _face_." Sobered in a moment, I composed my features for the punishment and received it, stinging and burning, on my reddened cheek. Salome again pointed at me. "You're a _sportsman_, sir, a _sportsman_, and I _like_ you," an affection which I at once reciprocated. "Ee, bless me, my man," he pursued. "What's your horrible name?" "Ray, sir." "Well, Ray, I'm going to cane you hard"--(rather crudely expressed, I thought)--"because your offence is serious, bless me, my man"--(an unreasonable request at this stage). He took out his cane and turned first to Pennybet.