I Am a New Boy in More Senses than One

           Nextmorning,afterbreakfast,Ienteredonschoollifeagain.Iwent,accompaniedbyMr.Wickfield,tothesceneofmyfuturestudiesagravebuildinginacourtyard,withalearnedairaboutitthatseemedverywellsuitedtothestrayrooksandjackdawswhocamedownfromtheCathedraltowerstowalkwithaclerklybearingonthegrass-plotandwasintroducedtomynewmaster,DoctorStrong.

           DoctorStronglookedalmostasrusty,tomythinking,asthetallironrailsandgatesoutsidethehouse;andalmostasstiffandheavyasthegreatstoneurnsthatflankedthem,andweresetup,onthetopofthered-brickwall,atregulardistancesallroundthecourt,likesublimatedskittles,forTimetoplayat.Hewasinhislibrary(ImeanDoctorStrongwas),withhisclothesnotparticularlywellbrushed,andhishairnotparticularlywellcombed;hisknee-smallsunbraced;hislongblackgaitersunbuttoned;andhisshoesyawningliketwocavernsonthehearth-rug.Turninguponmealustrelesseye,thatremindedmeofalong-forgottenblindoldhorsewhoonceusedtocropthegrass,andtumbleoverthegraves,inBlunderstonechurchyard,hesaidhewasgladtoseeme:andthenhegavemehishand;whichIdidn’tknowwhattodowith,asitdidnothingforitself.

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