a serious crisis in my affairs had arrived. My father inflamed with the
idea of Commerce had invited Comrade Bickersdyke--'

'When did you know he was a manager here?' asked Mike.

'At an early date. I have my spies everywhere. However, my pater
invited Comrade Bickersdyke to our house for the weekend. Things turned
out rather unfortunately. Comrade B. resented my purely altruistic
efforts to improve him mentally and morally. Indeed, on one occasion he
went so far as to call me an impudent young cub, and to add that he
wished he had me under him in his bank, where, he asserted, he would
knock some of the nonsense out of me. All very painful. I tell you,
Comrade Jackson, for the moment it reduced my delicately vibrating
ganglions to a mere frazzle. Recovering myself, I made a few blithe
remarks, and we then parted. I cannot say that we parted friends, but
at any rate I bore him no ill-will. I was still determined to make him
a credit to me. My feelings towards him were those of some kindly
father to his prodigal son. But he, if I may say so, was fairly on the
hop. And when my pater, after dinner the same night, played into his
hands by mentioning that he thought I ought to plunge into a career of
commerce, Comrade B. was, I gather, all over him. Offered to make a
vacancy for me in the bank, and to take me on at once. My pater,
feeling that this was the real hustle which he admired so much, had me
in, stated his case, and said, in effect, "How do we go?" I intimated
that Comrade Bickersdyke was my greatest chum on earth. So the thing
was fixed up and here I am. But you are not getting on with your
porridge, Comrade Jackson. Perhaps you don't care for porridge? Would
you like a finnan haddock, instead? Or a piece of shortbread? You have
only to say the word.'