He then took one or two turns up and down the study-court to warm himself, and whilst he was going through this ambulatory process, he was joined by the stout boy with the good-natured face, to whom allusion has been made in this chapter. The stout boy asked him if he had "passed," to which Peregrine replied in the affirmative, and then put a similar question, which was productive of a similar response.

"And now," said the boy, with the good-natured countenance, "what do you think of this place?"

"Upon my word, I don't know," returned Peregrine; "but perhaps it may improve upon acquaintance."

"Did you ever," rejoined the boy with the pleasing physiognomy" now, did you ever know such a confounded hole, in the course of your natural existence?"

"Why," returned Peregrine, "I can't say that it is possessed of many attractions; but we shall soon get used to it I suppose."

"That's just what the eels said when they were being skinned," said the stout boy; "but I don't think, I for one shall ever get used to this placesuch a confounded hole !-its two degrees worse than -" and the young gentleman alluded to the place that has the pavement of good intentions. "Is that Addiscombe you're talking about, Mr. Jenks?" said a low sneering voice from behind, and the two young gentlemen looking round beheld

another sergeant in full dress, with a most sardonic smile on his face, that never deserted him on any

occasion.

To this the stout boy with the good-natured countenance made no other response, than " What's that to you?" Peregrine liked him for this, but the man with the red stripes on the grey trousers, hated him from that hour.

"You'll find it a great deal to me, some of these days," he said, and there was more sneer in his voice, and more grin on his face than ever.

“May I ask what you want?" said the stout boy. "I want you, sir, if you please, and that other gentleman, just to come along with me."

“I'll see you—” something or other, began the boy of the bland physiognomy, whose name was Julian Jenks; but Peregrine Pultuney prevented the sequel from coming forth by a few admonitory nudges, and a hint about "constituted authorities," which seemed to have some effect on his companion.

So the two young cadets followed the sardonic sergeant into a small square room with a large desk in it, where they were requested to write their names in a big book; and after that each had a number given them, to serve as a mark of identification; and they were told that whatever musket, sword, belt, bayonet, &c., bore that number, was to be especially appropriated by the holder thereof, during his residence at the institution. Several

other little military processes were then gone through; but they were soon interrupted by the clock striking "one," upon which the sergeants emerged into the study-court and took up their position on the pavement, in that peculiarly striking attitude which military men call "attention."

And now the state of affairs became intensely interesting to Peregrine Pultuney and his new companion. Forth from, a door at the further corner of the study-court came three or four squadrons of cadets in the tiger-boy uniform, marshalled by one of their own order, and then they "marked time," and then they "marched forward," and then they wheeled and formed companies, just as though they had been actual soldiers. And then a bugle was sounded by a youth called "Tom," and the companies broke off and formed themselves into fresh companies; and then a tall youth, with whiskers and the tiger-boy livery, came down to see where Peregrine was standing, with a number of other embryo cadets, and told them all to "fall in," upon which they looked at one another, and got into a line any how, without reference to size, and when the big boy gave the word "march," they all scuffled off, one with one foot, and one with another, in the most admired disorder in the world. Peregrine had an idea that they were going to dinner, and he found out that he was not mistaken.

After a great deal of scuffling, and hustling, and tumbling against one another, the rear division of

the Addiscombe force found themselves in the eating-hall-a room of good dimensions and accurate proportions, with very handsome sham marble pillars, and four long tables between the rows. Peregrine seated himself beside Jenks, who animadverted pretty freely on "the confounded hole," and took a survey of the table, on which he saw four shoulders of mutton, eight dishes of potatoes, five or six salt-cellars, and a great number of white plates; besides which his eye fell upon a dish of novel appearance, which looked inaccessible to the knife, and bore the name of "mahogany." It was some time before Peregrine Pultuney could persuade himself that the purveyor designed it for a pudding.

Peregrine Pultuney had just pealed two underdone potatoes, and exerted his interest so successfully that he had procured a slice of meat on his plate, when the whole assembled party received an imperative mandate from the senior corporal-cadet, to "stand up;" which order having been obeyed, grace was said with unexampled rapidity and they were all marched out, Jenks making some further observations respecting the "confounded hole," and Peregrine Pultuney remarking that "it was no wonder people got sick in India, when they went out with ruined digestions produced by bolting tough meat." Time is valuable, and so is a good digestion, as people find out when they have

lost it.

The principal meal of the day having been thus brought suddenly to an end, in a very unsatisfactory manner, as Peregrine Pultuney thought, that young gentleman and sundry of his associates were marched up into some rooms, which go by the name of "stores," every thing being military at Addiscombe, for the purpose of being fitted to some regimental attire, for the cadets are fitted to the clothes not the clothes to the cadets; and Peregrine Pultuney thought that he had got into a slopshop in the neighbourhood of Monmouth-street, St. Giles.

Peregrine Pultuney, with an expression of uncommon disgust on his handsome intelligent face, then took off his neat little black-silk neckcloth, and tried on an uncouth-looking leather stock, which was given him as a part of his kit. He was then told to suit himself to a pair of military boots, and great was Peregrine's dismay when he saw a heap of strange-looking ankle boots somewhat in the shape of coal-scuttles, and utterly unlike any thing that young gentleman had ever worn before. To try them on was impossible, for not having a boot-jack how could he dispossess himself of his Wellingtons? so he took the least shapeless pair he could see, for form's sake, not having at the time the most remote idea of ever putting them on; having done which he made himself master of a blue cap, with a polished leather top, ingeniously contrived so as to concentre the sun's rays on the