At length I heard of a hat of the kind at Deercut, five miles off, and walked thither. It had been made, said the hatter, for a young sporting party who attended to a gentleman's stables, and knew a thing or two. He had got into trouble, it was explained, and was "doing his time on the circular staircase," which I took to mean the treadmill. That was the reason the article had been thrown on the maker's hands. It seemed just the thing Tempest described. The top was as flat as the lid of a work-box; indeed, it was precisely like a somewhat broad-brimmed chimney-pot-hat cut down to half height; and after a little pinching in at the sides fitted me beautifully. The maker was delighted to be able to suit me, and smiled most graciously when I paid him my five shillings and walked out of the shop with my junior exhibitioner's "boiler" on my head. I set down to envy or ignorance the jeers of the village youths who encountered me on my way home. Some people will laugh at anything they do not understand. My mother's protests, when she saw me, however, were not so easy to dispose of. "Why, Tommy, it makes you look like a common cheap-jack," said she. "It's not a gentleman's hat at all. I'm sure they would not tolerate it at Low Heath." "On the contrary," said I, "it's the form there. You might say the same of mortar boards or blue-coat dresses. It all depends on the school." "But are you sure Tempest was not exaggerating?" "Tempest is the most particular chap about form I know," said I. "Well, dear, promise me you won't wear this dreadful hat till you go to school. Wear your nice cap that suits you so well till then." I humoured her. Indeed, I was a little shy myself of meeting Mr Evans, or any of that set, in my new garb. They would be sure to pass their nasty personal remarks upon it. It would be better to preserve it in its virgin purity for my entrance to Low Heath. I took the precaution to write to Tempest and mention that I had got it, appending to my letter a rough sketch of the hat, so that, if there were anything wrong about it, he would be able to correct me. He wrote back in great good spirits. "Just the thing, kid. It'll take the shine out of all the boilers up here. Did I tell you about gloves? The knowing ones mostly sport lavender; but the outsiders don't wear any, except at the first call- over in the term, when of course it's compulsory. One muff last term got pretty well lammed because he only had two-button gloves instead of six. I believe one or two others were just as bad, only they didn't get kotched; but it was a lesson to them. I wonder if young Brown will be up to the tips, or whether he'll turn up in black boots instead of tan. I sha'n't write to him, because he's a town-boy, and it would be low. Ta-ta. Don't forget to wear your collar outside your great-coat, or I sha'n't speak to you.--Yours, till then, H.T."