It was not much of a pleasure to Jabez to find Kit Townley also seated as an apprentice on the kitchen settle; but the youth seemed disposed to be friendly, and Jabez forbore to create a grievance by recalling unpleasant reminiscences. With Kit Townley, who was his senior by a year, a heavy premium had been paid, and on this he was inclined to presume. But neither Mr. nor Mrs. Ashton made any social distinction between the twain, and Jabez was strong enough to hold his own. During the few weeks’ probation Jabez was transferred from department to department, alike to test his capacity and his own liking for the business. Both proved satisfactory. On Ascension Day, 1813, there was another appearance in that ancient room before the College magnates, many of whom, as officers in volunteer regiments, were in full-dress uniform (a dinner pending). The indentures had to be signed, the premium of £4 (returnable to the boy when his term expired) had to be paid. Simon Clegg’s best clothes had long been lost in the pawnbroker’s bottomless pit: but some one unknown (mayhap Mrs. Clowes or Mrs. Clough) had sent him overnight a suit of fresh ones, pronounced by him and Bess “welly as good as new;” and he presented himself for the important ceremony (overlooked by the painted face of the orphan’s benevolent friend, Humphrey Chetham) as proud almost of his own restored respectability as of the part he was about to perform. When it came to his turn to sign the document, the little man took the pen with a flourish, as if he were a hero about to perform some mighty action. He stooped to the heavy oaken table, bent his head low, alternately to the right and left, and with his fingers in an unaccountable crump, imprinted his self-taught signature in Roman capitals thereon, then handed back the quill as if to say, “The deed is done!” Governor, school-master, and feoffees congratulated Mr. Ashton and Jabez both. Simon, with moist eyes, shook Jabez by the hand, and holding the boy’s shoulder with his left to look the better in his clear dark eyes, said with deliberate emphasis— “Jabez, lad, aw’m preawd on yo’ this day. But moind—thah’s an honourable neame: do nowt to disgrace it, an’ yo’r fortin’s made!” Jabez was too abashed to make reply at the time; but at the supper given in the kitchen, to mark his installation at Mr. Ashton’s—to which Bess and Simon were both invited—Jabez contrived to whisper, “You needn’t clem any more, Bess; I’ll give you all my wages.” CHAPTER THE FIFTEENTH. APPRENTICESHIP. Jabez now began his work in earnest, in the packing-room—the very lowest rung of the ladder. Not long did he remain there. The bright colours in the lace and brace rooms had an attraction for him, and he argued with himself that the better he did the rough work assigned him the sooner he should mount above it. And Jabez the plodding Blue-coat boy, was ambitious. That ambition had a threefold stimulus.