Western had written a cold and reproving letter to him, warning him that this was the last he could do for him; while Joe had sent him a few characteristic lines telling him to do his best, and never to forget that he had one good friend in the world.
Determined to get on well if possible, Phil was most assiduous in his duties at the office, and took pains to master the writing put before him. His employer he saw little of, but whenever they met he was greeted politely, so that he had no cause to find fault in that direction. But lack of friends and lack of outdoor exercise soon told upon him. He lost his healthy looks and became pale and listless, for in those days cycling was not in vogue, and it was seldom that a city clerk was able to shake the soot and dirt of the streets from him and get into the country.
“This won’t do,” thought Phil one evening as, chained to his desk on account of unusual business, he drove his pen till the figures were blurred and his fingers cramped. “If this is the life before me I had rather be a soldier or a sailor and earn my shilling a day, and a little adventure. Fellows have often told me that a steady young soldier is bound to rise, and if he works hard and has a little education, may even reach to commissioned rank. That takes years, of course, but supposing it took ten I should be better off than after spending the same time in this office. Larking has been here fifteen years, and look what he is!”
Phil raised his eyes from his work and stared thoughtfully at a bent and prematurely-aged man who sat on his right. “Yes, I’d sooner see the world and run the risk of losing my life in some far-off country than live to grow up like that,” he mused pityingly. “At any rate I’ll go and have a chat with Sergeant-major Williams.”
The latter was a veteran of the Foot Guards, who had long ago earned a pension, and now lived with his wife on the same landing as Phil.
“Tired of your job, lad, are you?” he remarked, when Phil entered his room that night, saying that he had come for a chat and some advice. “Well, now, I’m not greatly surprised; though, mind you, there’s many a poor starving chap as would only be too glad to step into your shoes. What chance has a youngster in the army, you ask? Every chance, sir; every chance. Look at me” – and the old soldier stood upright on the hearth-rug and threw out his chest, thereby showing the row of medals pinned to his waistcoat. “I was your age, my lad, when I first ’listed, and when I had got my uniform and stood on parade for the first time, trying to look as though I knew all about it, with my chest somewhere close to my back and my stomach showing well in front, why, the sergeant-major came along, and I thought to myself he must be the colonel, and miles and miles above me. I never guessed I’d reach his rank some day; but I did, sure enough, and steady, honest work, and being sober, was what lifted me there. But you’ve got education, and that’s the pull. I had to teach myself, and a precious grind it was; but with you it’s different, and if you only keep out of scrapes you’re certain to go up.”
“But I’m always in trouble and scrapes of one sort or another; at least I was at school!” exclaimed Phil.
“Yes, I dare say you was, and a precious baby you would be if you hadn’t been; but that sort of thing don’t go down in the army. Discipline’s discipline, and so long as you remember that, and the fact that you’re filling a man’s place and are no longer a school-boy, you’re all right. Play your larks in the barrack-room as much as you like, and no one will mind; but never give cheek back to a non-commissioned officer as orders you to stop. It’s mighty trying at times, I know. Some young chap as has just been made a corporal gets beyond himself, and pitches into you. Grin and bear it is what you’ve got to do, and that’s discipline, and it’s minding that will help you to get on.”
“Then you think I shall do well to enlist?” asked Phil.
“Do well? Of course you will. Why, I’d sooner pick rags than be at the work you’re at,” answered the sergeant-major. “How much do you earn a week, my lad, if it isn’t a rude question?”
“Ten shillings, and extra if I’m kept overtime,” said Phil.
“Then you’ll be no worse off in the army,” exclaimed the old soldier. “A shilling a day, less washing, and your extra messing, is what you’ll have, and it won’t be long before you’re receiving corporal’s pay. Now think it over, lad. I’ve no wish to persuade you; but if you decide to ’list for the army, I’ll put you in the way of joining the finest regiment in the world.”
Phil thanked the sergeant-major, and retired to bed, only to lie awake thinking the matter over. By the following morning he had quite made up his mind to be a soldier, and went in to see his friend.
“Look here, sir,” the latter exclaimed, flourishing a morning paper, “you’ve made up your mind to leave that musty office and join the army, but you’re barely seventeen yet, you say. Now, I’ve something to propose, and something to show you. Before you ’list try what it’s like to rough it amongst rough men and earn your own living. Here’s an advertisement asking for hands in a kind of private zoo. I know the show, and a friend of mine, an old soldier like myself, is office-man, and keeps the books. Take a job there for a few months and see how you like the life, and then, if roughing it suits you, join the army. Even then you’ll be too young; but you’re big and strong, and a few months won’t make a great deal of difference.”
“But I know nothing about animals,” said Phil doubtfully. “I’ve ridden a horse occasionally, and always had a dog when possible. What does the advertisement say? Surely far more experience than I have had is wanted?”
“Here you are, sir. Read it, and judge for yourself. It’s as fine an offer, and as good an opportunity for you to see what life is in the rough, as you could wish for.”
Phil took the paper and read:
Wanted, a few hands in a large private menagerie. Applicants must be young and active, prepared to make themselves useful in any way, and must not object to travelling.
Then it concluded by giving the address, which was in the suburbs of London.
“Well, what do you make of it?” asked the old soldier, who had watched his face closely all the time.
“It certainly reads in a most inviting manner,” Phil replied hesitatingly; “but still I scarcely think it would suit me, for I really have had no experience to teach me how to make myself useful. I should be a raw hand who was always in the way, and should be dismissed before a week had passed.”
“You’ve no need to worry about that, I can assure you, sir,” the sergeant-major answered encouragingly. “My friend will see that you have a fair chance given you, and I’ll wager that a fortnight will set you on your feet and make you as knowing as those who’ve been working a year and longer with the firm. Mind you, though, I’ve scarcely more than an idea what is really required. Anyone can make himself useful if shown the way, but there must be a lot of work that’s difficult and p’r’aps dangerous. One thing I’ve learnt from Timms, and that is, that animals has to be taken by road to various parties, and that means kind of camp or gipsy life at times. Now look you here, my lad. Just you go right off, read the ’vertisement again, and then think the matter over. It don’t do to jump into these affairs, for you might find it a case of ‘out of the frying-pan into the fire’. There’s the place; top of the centre column. Come back this evening and tell me what you have decided on.”
Phil did as the old soldier suggested. He took the paper to the office, and during the day thought the matter out, finally deciding to make the plunge and find out for himself what roughing it really meant.
“After all,” he mused, as he absently traced lines and figures on the blotting-paper, “I shall be in just the position I might have occupied had not Father taken me from home. My mother was a poor widow, and long ago
