This outfitting was quite a recreation for Mr. Percy, and he acted as if he had once been a boy himself and had experienced the same preparations for his going away to school. If one knew in his youth how much happiness he really enjoyed, and could foresee the struggle and hardships to come, he might not be so anxious to become a man. The happiness of youth is mostly due to its unconsciousness of evil. Yet, even older people are like children in this respect, always wishing, longing for what is beyond them and to come. Soon everything was in readiness, the boxes were packed and the morning of my departure arrived. The last thing was a huge fruitcake and a lot of sweets, “For,” said Mr. Percy, “this is the thing to make quick acquaintance with boys at school.” A bearer was to go with me to take care of me on the way and return. He took a gari to the station with my luggage, and I went with Mr. Percy in his carriage. He had never preached to me or moralized, but on the way he said, “Now, Charles, I want you to be brave, to study hard, and above all be truthful, honest, upright, and be clean in thought, in word and act.” This was all, but there was so much in those few words, in his manner of saying them, and I knew that he spoke from his heart as he uttered them. Soon we were on the train, and as it moved off he said, “God bless you, my boy,” with a tenderness in his tone, and as I saw, with tears in his eyes. I felt it all, pressed his hand saying, “Thank you, thank you.” I knew that he felt that I was really grateful, yet it seemed to me that I had not shown my appreciation of his kindness as I should have done. The journey was interesting, especially up the hills, as I had never seen any but level land. The school was reached in the evening, and we were shown into a large hall where there were about forty cots, but only a few boys were there. The bearer left me, to come again in the morning. At the ringing of the bell we boys went into the dining hall. I noticed its barren appearance at once. There was such a contrast between this and the dining room and tables at Mr. Percy’s that I felt homesick. I thought that if the other boys could live through it I could; but it seemed as though I was in an orphanage again, the only difference being that this was for white boys, not for natives, and in the hills. After supper we were ushered into another barren hall, the only ornament being an organ upon which a teacher played while the rest sang something, and then followed what they called prayers. I was too weary to pay much attention. Then to the dormitory to sleep.