He never went home from school so fast before; but when he had changed his dress, and washed the dirt from his hands and face, it was too late to return.

In the afternoon, when he made his appearance at school, he was quite generally greeted with the significant nickname of "Stick-in-the-mud," and had to stand a most remorseless fire of wit, pleasantry, and ridicule the rest of the day, both at home and in the street.
Oscar thought quite as much as was proper of outward appearances.

He was commendably neat in his personal habits, and was seldom caught with dirty hands and face, or uncombed hair, or soiled and ragged dress.

He loved to dress well, too, and no amount of persuasion could induce him to wear a garment, if he fancied it did not set right, or was much out of fashion, or had an old and patched-up look.

In such a case, nothing but the stern arm of authority was sufficient to overcome his prejudices.
"There," said his mother one evening, after spending some time over one of his jackets, which had become a little worn at the elbows; "there, that will last you a spell longer, and look almost as well as it ever did, too." Oscar examined the garment.