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diff --git a/45554-h/45554-h.htm b/45554-h/45554-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5f6cdbf --- /dev/null +++ b/45554-h/45554-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1794 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Doctor Birch and his Young Friends., by Mr. M. A. Titmarsh. + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + .indent5 { margin-left: 5%;} + .indent10 { margin-left: 10%;} + .indent15 { margin-left: 15%;} + .indent20 { margin-left: 20%;} + .indent30 { margin-left: 30%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 100%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + .side { float: left; font-size: 75%; width: 25%; padding-left: 0.8em; + border-left: dashed thin; text-align: left; + text-indent: 0; font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; + font-weight: bold; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: solid 1px;} + p.pfirst, p.noindent {text-indent: 0} + span.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 1 } + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 45554 ***</div> + + <div style="height: 8em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + DOCTOR BIRCH AND HIS YOUNG FRIENDS. + </h1> + <h2> + By Mr. M. A. Titmarsh. + </h2> + <h5> + London: <br /> <br /> Chapman and Hall <br /> <br /> 1840. + </h5> + <p> + <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0001" id="linkimage-0001"> </a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0008m.jpg" alt="0008m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0008.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0002" id="linkimage-0002"> </a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0009m.jpg" alt="0009m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0009.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0003" id="linkimage-0003"> </a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0011m.jpg" alt="0011m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0011.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <p> + <b>CONTENTS</b> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> DOCTOR BIRCH. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> THE DOCTOR AND HIS STAFF. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> THE COCK OF THE SCHOOL. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> THE LITTLE SCHOOL-ROOM. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> THE DEAR BROTHERS. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> A HOPELESS CASE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> A WORD ABOUT MISS BIRCH. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> A TRAGEDY. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> BRIGGS IN LUCK. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> A YOUNG FELLOW WHO IS PRETTY SURE TO SUCCEED. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> DUVAL, THE PIRATE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> THE DORMITORIES. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> A CAPTURE AND A RESCUE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> THE GARDEN, </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> THE OLD PUPIL. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + DOCTOR BIRCH. + </h1> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE DOCTOR AND HIS STAFF. + </h2> + <p class="pfirst"> + <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>here is no need to + say why I became Assistant Master and Professor of the English and French + languages, flower-painting, and the German flute, in Doctor Birch's + Academy, at Rodwell Regis. Good folks may depend on this that there was + good reason for my leaving lodgings near London, and a genteel society, + for an under-master's desk in that old school. I promise you, the fare at + the Usher's table, the getting up at five o'clock in the morning, the + walking out with little boys in the fields, (who used to play me tricks, + and never could be got to respect my awful and responsible character as + teacher in the school,) Miss Birch's vulgar insolence, Jack Birch's glum + condescension, and the poor old Doctor's patronage, were not matters in + themselves pleasurable: and that that patronage and those dinners were + sometimes cruel hard to swallow. Never mind—my connexion with the + place is over now, and I hope they have got a more efficient under-master. + </p> + <p> + Jack Birch (Rev. J. Birch, of St. Neot's Hall, Oxford,) is partner with + his father the Doctor, and takes some of the classes. About his Greek I + can't say much; but I will construe him in Latin any day. A more + supercilious little prig, (giving himself airs, too, about his cousin, + Miss Baby, who lives with the Doctor,) a more empty pompous little coxcomb + I never saw. His white neckcloth looked as if it choked him. He used to + try and look over that starch upon me and Prince the assistant, as if we + were a couple of footmen. He didn't do much business in the school; but + occupied his time in writing sanctified letters to the boys' parents, and + in composing dreary sermons to preach to them. + </p> + <p> + The real master of the school is Prince; an Oxford man too: shy, haughty, + and learned; crammed with Greek and a quantity of useless learning; + uncommonly kind to the small boys; pitiless with the fools and the + braggarts: respected of all for his honesty, his learning, his bravery, + (for he hit out once in a boat-row in a way which astonished the boys and + the bargemen,) and for a latent power about him, which all saw and + confessed somehow. Jack Birch could never look him in the face. Old Miss + Z. dared not put off any of <i>her</i> airs upon him. Miss Rosa made him + the lowest of curtsies. Miss Raby said she was afraid of him. Good old + Prince! many a pleasant night we have smoked in the Doctor's harness-room, + whither we retired when our boys were gone to bed, and our cares and canes + put by. + </p> + <p> + After Jack Birch had taken his degree at Oxford—a process which he + effected with great difficulty—this place, which used to be called + "Birch's," "Dr. Birch's Academy," and what not, became suddenly + "Archbishop Wigsby's College of Rodwell Regis." They took down the old + blue board with the gold letters, which has been used to mend the pig- + stye since. Birch had a large school-room run up in the Gothic taste, with + statuettes, and a little belfry, and a bust of Archbishop Wigsby in the + middle of the school. He put the six senior boys into caps and gowns, + which had rather a good effect as the lads sauntered down the street of + the town, but which certainly provoked the contempt and hostility of the + bargemen; and so great was his rage for academic costumes and ordinances, + that he would have put me myself into a lay gown, with red knots and + fringes, but that I flatly resisted, and said that a writing-master had no + business with such paraphernalia. + </p> + <p> + By the way, I have forgotten to mention the Doctor himself. And what shall + I say of him? Well, he has a very crisp gown and bands, a solemn air, a + tremendous loud voice, and a grand and solemn air with the boys' parents, + whom he receives in a study, covered round with the best bound books, + which imposes upon many—upon the women especially—and makes + them fancy that this is a Doctor indeed. But, Law bless you! He never + reads the books; or opens one of them, except that in which he keeps his + bands—and a Dugdale's Monasticon, which looks like a book, but is in + reality a cupboard, where he has his almond cakes, and decanter of port + wine. He gets up his classics with translations, or what the boys call + cribs. They pass wicked tricks upon him when he hears the forms. The elder + wags go to his study, and ask him to help them in hard bits of Herodotus + or Thucydides: he says he will look over the passage, and flies for refuge + to Mr. Prince, or to the crib. + </p> + <p> + He keeps the flogging department in his own hands; finding that his son + was too savage. He has awful brows and a big voice. But his roar frightens + nobody. It is only a lion's skin, or, so to say, a muff. + </p> + <p> + Little Mordant made a picture of him with large ears, like a well-known + domestic animal, and had his own justly boxed for the caricature. The + Doctor discovered him in the fact, and was in a flaming rage, and + threatened whipping at first; but in the course of the day an opportune + basket of game arriving from Mordant's father, the Doctor became + mollified, and has burnt the picture with the ears. However I have one + wafered up in my desk by the hand of the same little rascal: and the + frontispiece of this very book is drawn from it. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE COCK OF THE SCHOOL. + </h2> + <p class="pfirst"> + <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span> am growing an old + fellow—and have seen many great folks in the course of my travels + and time—Louis Philippe coming out of the Tuileries, His Majesty the + King of Prussia and the Reichsverweser accolading each other, at Cologne, + at my elbow; Admiral Sir Charles Napier (in an omnibus once), the Duke of + Wellington, the immortal Goethe at Weimar, the late benevolent Pope + Gregory XVI., and a score more of the famous in this world—the whom, + whenever one looks at, one has a mild shock of awe and tremor. I like this + feeling and decent fear and trembling with which a modest spirit salutes a + <i>Great Man</i>. + </p> + <p> + Well, I have seen Generals capering on horseback at the head of their + crimson battalions; Bishops sailing down cathedral aisles, with downcast + eyes, pressing their trencher caps to their hearts with their fat white + hands; College heads when her Majesty is on a visit; the Doctor in all his + glory at the head of his school on Speech-day, a great sight,—and + all great men these. + </p> + <p> + I have never met the late Mr. Thomas Cribb, but I have no doubt should + have regarded him with the same feeling of awe with which I look every day + at George Champion, the cock of Dr. Birch's school. + </p> + <p> + When, I say, I reflect as I go up and set him a sum, that he could whop me + in two minutes, double up Prince and the other assistant, and pitch the + Doctor out of window, I can't but think how great, how generous, how + magnanimous a creature this is, that sits quite quiet and good-natured, + and works his equation, and ponders through his Greek play. He might take + the schoolroom pillars and pull the house down if he liked. He might close + the door, and demolish every one of us like Antar, the lover of Ibla; but + he lets us live. He never thrashes anybody without a cause, when woe + betide the tyrant or the sneak! + </p> + <p> + I think that to be strong, and able to whop everybody,—(not to do + it, mind you, but to feel that you were able to do it,)—would be the + greatest of all gifts. There is a serene good humour which plays about + George Champion's broad face, which shows the consciousness of this power, + and lights up his honest blue eyes with a magnanimous calm. + </p> + <p> + He is invictus. Even when a cub there was no beating this lion. Six years + ago the undaunted little warrior actually stood up to Frank Davison,—(the + Indian officer now—poor little Charley's brother, whom Miss Raby + nursed so affectionately,)—then seventeen years old, and the cock of + Birch's. They were obliged to drag off the boy, and Frank, with admiration + and regard for him, prophesied the great things he would do. Legends of + combats are preserved fondly in schools; they have stories of such at + Rodwell Regis, performed in the old Doctor's time, forty years ago. + </p> + <p> + Champion's affair with the Young Tutbury Pet, who was down here in + training,—with Black the Bargeman,—with the three head boys of + Doctor Wapshot's academy, whom he caught maltreating an outlying day-boy + of ours, &c.,—are known to all the Rodwell Regis men. He was + always victorious. He is modest and kind, like all great men. He has a + good, brave, honest understanding. He cannot make verses like young + Pinder, or read Greek like Lawrence the Prefect, who is a perfect young + abyss of learning, and knows enough, Prince says, to furnish any six + first-class men; but he does his work in a sound, downright way, and he is + made to be the bravest of soldiers, the best of country parsons, an honest + English gentleman wherever he may go. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0004" id="linkimage-0004"> </a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0021m.jpg" alt="0021m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0021.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + Like all great men, George is good-humoured and lazy. There is a + particular bench in the play-ground on which he will loll for hours on + half-holidays, and is so affable that the smallest boys come and speak to + him. It is pleasant to see the young cubs frisking round the honest lion. + His chief friend and attendant, however, is young Jack Hall, whom he saved + when drowning, out of the Miller's Pool. The attachment of the two is + curious to witness. The smaller lad gambolling, playing tricks round the + bigger one, and perpetually making fun of his protector. They are never + far apart, and of holidays you may meet them miles away from the school. + George sauntering heavily down the lanes with his big stick, and little + Jack larking with the pretty girls in the cottage windows. + </p> + <p> + George has a boat on the river, in which, however, he commonly lies + smoking, whilst Jack sculls him. He does not play at cricket, except when + the school plays the county, or at Lord's in the holidays. The boys can't + stand his bowling, and when he hits, it is like trying to catch a + cannon-ball. I have seen him at tennis. It is a splendid sight to behold + the young fellow bounding over the court with streaming yellow hair, like + young Apollo in a flannel jacket. + </p> + <p> + The other head boys are Lawrence the Captain, Bunce, famous chiefly for + his magnificent appetite, and Pitman, sur-named Roscius, for his love of + the drama. Add to these Swanky, called Macassar, from his partiality to + that condiment, and who has varnished boots, wears white gloves on + Sundays, and looks out for Miss Pinkerton's school (transferred from + Chiswick to Rodwell Regis, and conducted by the nieces of the late Miss + Barbara Pinkerton, the friend of Our Great Lexicograplier, upon the + principles approved by him and practised by that admirable woman,) as it + passes into church. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0005" id="linkimage-0005"> </a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0025m.jpg" alt="0025m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0025.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + Representations have been made concerning Mr. Horace Swanky's behaviour; + rumours have been uttered about notes in verse, conveyed in three-cornered + puffs, by Mrs. Buggies, who serves Miss Pinkerton's young ladies on + Fridays—and how Miss Didow, to whom the tart and enclosure were + addressed, tried to make away with herself by swallowing a ball of cotton. + But I pass over these absurd reports, as likely to affect the reputation + of an admirable Seminary conducted by irreproachable females. As they go + into church (Miss P. driving in her flock of lambkins with the crook of + her parasol,) how can it be helped if her forces and ours sometimes + collide, as the boys are on their way up to the organ-loft? And I don't + believe a word about the three-cornered puff, but rather that it was the + invention of that jealous Miss Birch, who is jealous of Miss Raby, jealous + of everybody who is good and handsome, and who has <i>her own ends</i> in + view, or I am very much in error. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE LITTLE SCHOOL-ROOM. + </h2> + <p class="pfirst"> + <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">W</span>hat they call the + little school-room is a small room at the other end of the great school; + through which you go to the Doctor's private house, and where Miss Raby + sits with her pupils. She has a half-dozen very small ones over whom she + presides and teaches them in her simple way, until they are big or learned + enough to face the great school-room. Many of them are in a hurry for + promotion, the graceless little simpletons, and know no more than their + elders when they are well off. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0006" id="linkimage-0006"> </a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0029m.jpg" alt="0029m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0029.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + She keeps the accounts, writes out the bills, superintends the linen and + sews on the general shirt-buttons. Think of having such a woman at home to + sew on one's shirt-buttons! But peace, peace, thou foolish heart! + </p> + <p> + Miss Raby is the Doctor's niece. Her mother was a beauty (quite unlike old + Zoe therefore); and she married a pupil in the old Doctor's time, who was + killed afterwards, a Captain in the East India service, at the siege of + Bhurtpore. Hence a number of Indian children come to the Doctor's, for + Raby was very much liked, and the uncle's kind reception of the orphan has + been a good speculation for the school-keeper. + </p> + <p> + It is wonderful how brightly and gaily that little quick creature does her + duty. She is the first to rise, and the last to sleep, if any business is + to be done. She sees the other two women go off to parties in the town + without even so much as wishing to join them. It is Cinderella, only + contented to stay at home—content to bear Zoe's scorn and to admit + Flora's superior charms,—and to do her utmost to repay her uncle for + his great kindness in housing her. + </p> + <p> + So, you see, she works as much as three maid-servants for the wages of + one. She is as thankful when the Doctor gives her a new gown, as if he had + presented her with a fortune: laughs at his stories most good-humouredly, + listens to Zoe's scolding most meekly, admires Flora with all her heart, + and only goes out of the way when Jack Birch shows his sallow face: for + she can't bear him, and always finds work when he comes near. + </p> + <p> + How different she is when some folks approach her! I won't be + presumptuous; but I think, I think, I have made a not unfavourable + impression in some quarters. However, let us be mum on this subject. I + like to see her, because she always looks good-humoured; because she is + always kind, because she is always modest, because she is fond of those + poor little brats—orphans some of them,—because she is rather + pretty, I dare say, or because I think so, which comes to the same thing. + </p> + <p> + Though she is kind to all, it must be owned she shows the most gross + favouritism towards the amiable children. She brings them cakes from + dessert, and regales them with Zoe's preserves; spends many of her little + shillings in presents for her favourites, and will tell them stories by + the hour. She has one very sad story about a little boy, who died long + ago; the younger children are never weary of hearing about him; and Miss + Raby has shown to one of them a lock of the little chap's hair, which she + keeps in her work-box to this day. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE DEAR BROTHERS. + </h2> + <h3> + <i>A Melodrama in several Rounds</i>. + </h3> + <p> + The Doctor. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Tipper, Uncle to the Masters Boxall. + </p> + <p> + Boxall Major, Boxall Minor, Brown, Jones, Smith, + </p> + <p> + Robinson, Tiffin Minimus. + </p> + <p> + B. Go it old Boxall. + </p> + <p> + J. Give it him young Boxall. + </p> + <p> + R. Pitch into him old Boxall. + </p> + <p> + S. Two to one on young Boxall. + </p> + <p class="indent30"> + [Enter Tiffin Minimus, <i>running.</i> + </p> + <p> + <i>Tiffin Minimus</i>. Boxalls! you 're wanted. + </p> + <p> + (<i>The Doctor to Mr. Tipper.</i>) Every boy in the school loves them, my + dear sir; your nephews are a credit to my establishment. They are orderly, + well-conducted, gentleman-like boys. Let us enter and find them at their + studies. + </p> + <p class="indent30"> + [<i>Enter</i> The Doctor <i>and</i> Mr. Tipper. + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h3> + GRAND TABLEAU. + </h3> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + A HOPELESS CASE. + </h2> + <p class="pfirst"> + <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">L</span>et us, people who + are so uncommonly clever and learned, have a great tenderness and pity for + the poor folks who are not endowed with the prodigious talents which we + have. I have always had a regard for dunces;—those of my own + school-days were amongst the pleasantest of the fellows, and have turned + out by no means the dullest in life; whereas many a youth who could turn + off Latin hexameters by the yard, and construe Greek quite glibly, is no + better than a feeble prig now, with not a pennyworth more brains than were + in his head before his beard grew. + </p> + <p> + Those poor dunces! Talk of being the last man, ah! what a pang it must be + to be the last boy—huge, misshapen, fourteen years of age,—and + "taken up" by a chap who is but six years old, and can't speak quite plain + yet! + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0007" id="linkimage-0007"> </a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0037m.jpg" alt="0037m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0037.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + Master Hulker is in that condition at Birch's. He is the most honest, + kind, active, plucky, generous creature. He can do many things better than + most boys. He can go up a tree, jump, play at cricket, dive and swim + perfectly—he can eat twice as much as almost any lady (as Miss Birch + well knows), he has a pretty talent at carving figures with his + hack-knife, he makes and paints little coaches, he can take a watch to + pieces and put it together again. He can do everything but learn his + lesson; and there he sticks at the bottom of the school, hopeless. As the + little boys are drafted in from Miss Raby's class, (it is true she is one + of the best instructresses in the world,) they enter and hop over poor + Hulker. He would be handed over to the governess only he is too big. + Sometimes I used to think, that this desperate stupidity was a stratagem + of the poor rascal's; and that he shammed dulness so that he might be + degraded into Miss Raby's class: if she would teach <i>me</i>, I know, + before George, I would put on a pinafore and a little jacket—but no, + it is a natural incapacity for the Latin Grammar. + </p> + <p> + If you could see his grammar, it is a perfect curiosity of dog's ears. The + leaves and cover are all curled and ragged. Many of the pages are worn + away, with the rubbing of his elbows as he sits poring over the hopeless + volume, with the blows of his fists as he thumps it madly, or with the + poor fellow's tears. You see him wiping them away with the back of his + hand, as he tries and tries, and can't do it. + </p> + <p> + When I think of that Latin Grammar, and that infernal As in Præsenti, and + of other things which I was made to learn in my youth: upon my conscience + I am surprised that we ever survived it. When one thinks of the boys who + have been caned because they could not master that intolerable jargon! + Good Lord, what a pitiful chorus these poor little creatures send up! Be + gentle with them, ye schoolmasters, and only whop those who <i>won't</i> + learn. + </p> + <p> + The Doctor has operated upon Hulker (between ourselves), but the boy was + so little affected you would have thought he had taken chloroform. Birch + is weary of whipping now, and leaves the boy to go his own gait. Prince, + when he hears the lesson, and who cannot help making fun of a fool, adopts + the sarcastic manner with Master Hulker, and says, "Mr. Hulker, may I take + the liberty to inquire if your brilliant intellect has enabled you to + perceive the difference between those words which grammarians have defined + as substantive and adjective nouns?—if not, perhaps Mr. Ferdinand + Timmins will instruct you." And Timmins hops over Hulker's head. + </p> + <p> + I wish Prince would leave off girding at the poor lad. He's an only son, + and his mother is a widow woman, who loves him with all her might. There + is a famous sneer about the suckling of fools and the chronicling of small + beer; but remember it was a rascal who uttered it. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + A WORD ABOUT MISS BIRCH. + </h2> + <p> + "The Gentlemen, and especially the younger and more tender of the Pupils, + will have the advantage of the constant superintendence and affectionate + care of Miss Zoe Birch, sister of the Principal: whose dearest aim will be + to supply (as far as may be) the absent maternal friend."—<i>Prospectus + of Rodwell Regis School</i>. + </p> + <p> + This is all very fine in the Doctor's circulars, and Miss Zoe Birch—(a + sweet birch blossom it is, fifty-five years old, during two score of which + she has dosed herself with pills; with a nose as red and a face as sour as + a crab-apple)—may do mighty well in a prospectus. But I should like + to know who would take Miss Zoe for a mother, or would have her for one? + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0008" id="linkimage-0008"> </a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0042m.jpg" alt="0042m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0042.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + The only persons in the house who are not afraid of her are Miss Flora and + I—no, I am afraid of her, though I <i>do</i> know the story about + the French usher in 1830—but all the rest tremble before the woman, + from the Doctor down to poor Francis the knife-boy, and whom she bullies + into his miserable blacking-hole. + </p> + <p> + The Doctor is a pompous and outwardly severe man—but inwardly weak + and easy: loving a joke and a glass of port wine. I get on with him, + therefore, much better than Mr. Prince, who scorns him for an ass, and + under whose keen eyes the worthy Doctor writhes like a convicted impostor; + and many a sunshiny afternoon would he have said, "Mr. T., Sir, shall we + try another glass of that yellow sealed wine which you seem to like?" (and + which he likes even better than I do), had not the old harridan of a Zoe + been down upon us, and insisted on turning me out with her miserable weak + coffee. She a mother indeed! A sour milk generation she would have nursed. + She is always croaking, scolding, bullying,—yowling at the + housemaids, snarling at Miss Raby, bowwowing after the little boys, + barking after the big ones. She knows how much every boy eats to an ounce; + and her delight is to ply with fat the little ones who can't bear it, and + with raw meat those who hate underdone. It was she who caused the Doctor + to be eaten out three times; and nearly created a rebellion in the school + because she insisted on his flogging Goliah Longman. + </p> + <p> + The only time that woman is happy is when she comes in of a morning to the + little boys' dormitories with a cup of hot Epsom salts, and a sippet of + bread. Boo!—the very notion makes me quiver. She stands over them. I + saw her do it to young Byles only a few days since—and her presence + makes the abomination doubly abominable. + </p> + <p> + As for attending them in real illness, do you suppose that she would watch + a single night for any one of them? Not she. When poor little Charley + Davison (that child, a lock of whose soft hair I have said how Miss Raby + still keeps) lay ill of scarlet fever in the holidays—for the + Colonel, the father of these boys, was in India—it was Anne Raby who + tended the child, who watched him all through the fever, who never left + him while it lasted, or until she had closed the little eyes that were + never to brighten or moisten more. Anny watched and deplored him, but it + was Miss Birch who wrote the letter announcing his demise, and got the + gold chain and locket which the Colonel ordered as a memento of his + gratitude. It was through a row with Miss Birch that Frank Davison ran + away. I promise you that after he joined his regiment in India, the + Ahmednuggar Irregulars, which his gallant father commands, there came over + no more annual shawls and presents to Dr. and Miss Birch, and that if she + fancied the Colonel was coming home to marry her (on account of her + tenderness to his motherless children, which he was always writing about), + <i>that</i> notion was very soon given up. But these affairs are of early + date, seven years back, and I only heard of them in a very confused manner + from Miss Raby, who was a girl, and had just come to Rodwell Regis. She is + always very much moved when she speaks about those boys, which is but + seldom. I take it the death of the little one still grieves her tender + heart. + </p> + <p> + Yes, it is Miss Birch, who has turned away seventeen ushers and second + masters in eleven years, and half as many French masters; inconsolable, I + suppose, since the departure of her <i>favourite</i>, M. Grinche, with her + gold watch, &c.; but this is only surmise—and what I gather from + the taunts of Miss Rosa when she and her aunt have a tiff at tea. + </p> + <p> + But besides this, I have another way of keeping her in order. + </p> + <p> + Whenever she is particularly odious or insolent to Miss Raby, I have but + to introduce raspberry jam into the conversation, and the woman holds her + tongue. She will understand me. I need not say more. + </p> + <p> + <i>Note, 12th December</i>.—I <i>may</i> speak now. I have left the + place and don't mind. I say then at once, and without caring twopence for + the consequences, that I saw this woman, this <i>mother</i> of the boys, + <i>eating jam with a spoon out of Master Wiggins's trunk in the box-room</i>; + and of this I am ready to take an affidavit any day. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + A TRAGEDY. + </h2> + <h3> + THIS DRAMA OUGHT TO BE REPRESENTED IN ABOUT SIX CUTS. + </h3> + <p> + <i>[The School is hushed. Lawrence the Prefect, and Custos of the rods, is + marching after the Doctor into the operating-room. Master Backhouse is + about to follow.]</i> + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0009" id="linkimage-0009"> </a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0048m.jpg" alt="0048m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0048.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + <i>Master Backhouse</i>. It's all very well, but you see if I don't pay + you out after school—you sneak, you. + </p> + <p> + <i>Master Lurcher</i>. If you do I '1l tell again. + </p> + <p class="indent30"> + [Exit Backhouse. + </p> + <p> + [<i>The rod is heard from the adjoining apartment. Hwish—Hhwish—hwish—hwish—hwish—hwish—hwish.</i>] + </p> + <p class="indent30"> + [Re-enter Backhouse. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BRIGGS IN LUCK. + </h2> + <p> + <i>Enter the Knife-boy</i>.—Hamper for Briggses! + </p> + <p> + <i>Master Brown.</i>—Hurray, Tom Briggs! I'll lend you my knife. + </p> + <p> + If this story does not carry its own moral, what fable does, I wonder? + Before the arrival of that hamper, Master Briggs was in no better repute + than any other young gentleman of the lower school; and in fact I had + occasion myself, only lately, to correct Master Brown for kicking his + friend's shins during the writing-lesson. But how this basket directed by + his mother's housekeeper, and marked "Glass with care," (whence I conclude + that it contains some jam and some bottles of wine probably, as well as + the usual cake and game-pie, and half a sovereign for the elder Master B., + and five new shillings for Master Decimus Briggs)—how, I say, the + arrival of this basket, alters all Master Briggs's circumstances in life, + and the estimation in which many persons regard him! + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0010" id="linkimage-0010"> </a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0051m.jpg" alt="0051m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0051.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + If he is a good-hearted boy, as I have reason to think, the very first + thing he will do, before inspecting the contents of the hamper, or cutting + into them with the knife which Master Brown has so considerately lent him; + will be to read over the letter from home which lies on the top of the + parcel. He does so, as I remark to Miss Raby (for whom I happened to be + mending pens when the little circumstance arose), with a flushed face and + winking eyes. Look how the other boys are peering into the basket as he + reads.—I say to her, "Isn't it a pretty picture?" Part of the letter + is in a very large hand. That is from his little sister. And I would wager + that she netted the little purse which he has just taken out of it, and + which Master Lynx is eyeing. + </p> + <p> + "You are a droll man, and remark all sorts of queer things," Miss Raby + says, smiling, and plying her swift needle and fingers as quick as + possible. + </p> + <p> + "I am glad we are both on the spot, and that the little fellow lies under + our guns as it were, and so is protected from some such brutal + school-pirates as young Duval for instance, who would rob him probably of + some of those good things, good in themselves, and better because fresh + from home. See, there is a pie as I said, and which I dare say is better + than those which are served at our table (but you never take any notice of + these kind of things, Miss Raby), a cake of course, a bottle of currant + wine, jam-pots, and no end of pears in the straw. + </p> + <p> + "With this money little Briggs will be able to pay the tick which that + imprudent child has run up with Mrs. Ruggles; and I shall let Briggs Major + pay for the pencil-case which Bullock sold to him.—It will be a + lesson to the young prodigal for the future. + </p> + <p> + "But, I say, what a change there will be in his life for some time to + come, and at least until his present wealth is spent! The boys who bully + him will mollify towards him, and accept his pie and sweetmeats. They will + have feasts in the bed-room; and that wine will taste more deliciously to + them than the best out of the Doctor's cellar. The cronies will be + invited. Young Master Wagg will tell his most dreadful story and sing his + best song for a slice of that pie. What a jolly night they will have! When + we go the rounds at night, Mr. Prince and I will take care to make a noise + before we come to Briggs's room, so that the boys may have time to put the + light out, to push the things away, and to scud into bed. Doctor Spry may + be put in requisition the next morning..." + </p> + <p> + "Nonsense! you absurd creature," cries out Miss Raby, laughing; and I lay + down the twelfth pen very nicely mended. + </p> + <p> + "Yes; after luxury comes the doctor, I say; after extravagance, a hole in + the breeches pocket. To judge from his disposition, Briggs Major will not + be much better off a couple of days hence than he is now, and, if I am not + mistaken, will end life a poor man. Brown will be kicking his shins before + a week is over, depend upon it. There are boys and men of all sorts, Miss + R.—there are selfish sneaks who hoard until the store they daren't + use grows mouldy—there are spendthrifts who fling away, parasites + who flatter and lick its shoes, and snarling curs who hate and envy, good + fortune."—I put down the last of the pens, brushing away with it the + quill-chips from her desk first, and she looked at me with a kind + wondering face. I brushed them away, clicked the pen-knife into my pocket, + made her a bow, and walked off—for the bell was ringing for school. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + A YOUNG FELLOW WHO IS PRETTY SURE TO SUCCEED. + </h2> + <p class="pfirst"> + <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">I</span>f Master Briggs is + destined in all probability to be a poor man, the chances are, that Mr. + Bullock will have a very different lot. He is a son of a partner of the + eminent banking firm of Bullock and Hulker, Lombard Street, and very high + in the upper school—quite out of my jurisdiction, consequently. + </p> + <p> + He writes the most beautiful current hand ever seen; and the way in which + he mastered arithmetic (going away into recondite and wonderful rules in + the Tutor's Assistant, which some masters even dare not approach) is + described by the Doctor in terms of admiration. He is Mr. Prince's best + algebra pupil; and a very fair classic, too, doing everything well for + which he has a mind. + </p> + <p> + He does not busy himself with the sports of his comrades, and holds a + cricket-bat no better than Miss Raby would. He employs the play hours in + improving his mind, and reading the newspaper; he is a profound + politician, and, it must be owned, on the Liberal side. The elder boys + despise him rather; and when Champion Major passes, he turns his head, and + looks down. I don't like the expression of Bullock's narrow, green eyes, + as they follow the elder Champion, who does not seem to know or care how + much the other hates him. + </p> + <p> + No—Mr. Bullock, though perhaps the cleverest and most accomplished + boy in the school, associates with the quite little boys when he is minded + for society. To these he is quite affable, courteous, and winning. He + never fagged or thrashed one of them. He has done the verses and corrected + the exercises of many, and many is the little lad to whom he has lent a + little money. + </p> + <p> + It is true he charges at the rate of a penny a week for every sixpence + lent out, but many a fellow to whom tarts are a present necessity is happy + to pay this interest for the loan. These transactions are kept secret. Mr. + Bullock, in rather a whining tone, when he takes Master Green aside and + does the requisite business for him, says, "You know you'll go and talk + about it everywhere. I don't want to lend you the money, I want to buy + something with it. It's only to oblige you; and yet I am sure you will go + and make fun of me." Whereon, of course, Green, eager for the money, vows + solemnly that the transaction shall be confidential, and only speaks when + the payment of the interest becomes oppressive. + </p> + <p> + Thus it is that Mr. Bullock's practices are at all known. At a very early + period indeed his commercial genius manifested itself; and by happy + speculations in toffey; by composing a sweet drink made of stick liquorice + and brown sugar, and selling it at a profit to the younger children; by + purchasing a series of novels, which he let out at an adequate + remuneration; by doing boys exercises for a penny, and other processes, he + showed the bent of his mind. At the end of the half year he always went + home richer than when he arrived at school, with his purse full of money. + </p> + <p> + Nobody knows how much he brought: but the accounts are fabulous. Twenty, + thirty, fifty—it is impossible to say how many sovereigns. When + joked about his money, he turns pale and swears he has not a shilling: + whereas he has had a banker's account ever since he was thirteen years + old. + </p> + <p> + At the present moment he is employed in negotiating the sale of a knife + with Master Green, and is pointing out to the latter the beauty of the six + blades, and that he need not pay until after the holidays. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0011" id="linkimage-0011"> </a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0059m.jpg" alt="0059m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0059.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + Champion Major has sworn that he will break every bone in his skin the + next time that he cheats a little boy, and is bearing down upon him. Let + us come away. It is frightful to see that big peaceful clever coward + moaning under well deserved blows and whining for mercy. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + DUVAL, THE PIRATE. + </h2> + <h3> + (<i>Jones Minimus passes, laden with tarts.</i>) + </h3> + <p> + <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0012" id="linkimage-0012"> </a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0062m.jpg" alt="0062m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0062.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + <i>Duval</i>. Hullo! you small boy with the tarts! Come here, Sir. + </p> + <p> + <i>Jones Minimus</i>. Please, Duval, they ain't mine. + </p> + <p> + <i>Duval.</i> O you abominable young story-teller. + </p> + <p class="indent30"> + [He confiscates the goods. + </p> + <p> + I think I like young Duval's mode of levying contributions better than + Bullock's. The former's, at least, has the merit of more candour. Duval is + the pirate of Birch's, and lies in wait for small boys laden with money or + provender. He scents plunder from afar off: and pounces out on it. Woe + betide the little fellow when Duval boards him! + </p> + <p> + There was a youth here whose money I used to keep, as he was of an + extravagant and weak disposition; and I doled it out to him in weekly + shillings, sufficient for the purchase of the necessary tarts. This boy + came to me one day for half a sovereign, for a very particular purpose, he + said. I afterwards found he wanted to lend the money to Duval. + </p> + <p> + The young ogre burst out laughing, when in a great wrath and fury I + ordered him to refund to the little boy: and proposed a bill of exchange + at three months. It is true Duval's father does not pay the Doctor, and + the lad never has a shilling, save that which he levies; and though he is + always bragging about the splendour of Freenystown, Co. Cork, and the + fox-hounds his father keeps, and the claret they drink there—there + comes no remittance from Castle Freeny in these bad times to the honest + Doctor, who is a kindly man enough, and never yet turned an insolvent boy + out of doors. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE DORMITORIES. + </h2> + <h3> + <i>MASTER HEWLETT AND MASTER NIGHTINGALE.</i> + </h3> + <p> + (Rather a cold winter night.) + </p> + <p> + <i>Hewlett (flinging a shoe at Master Nightingale's bed, with which he + hits that young gentleman.)</i> Hullo! You! Get up and bring me that shoe. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0013" id="linkimage-0013"> </a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0066m.jpg" alt="0066m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0066.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + <i>Nightingale.</i> Yes, Hewlett. <i>(He gets up.)</i> + </p> + <p> + <i>Hewlett</i>. Don't drop it, and be very careful of it, Sir. + </p> + <p> + <i>Nightingale</i>. Yes, Hewlett. + </p> + <p> + <i>Hewlett</i>. Silence in the Dormitory! Any boy who opens his mouth I'll + murder him. Now, Sir, are not you the boy what can sing? + </p> + <p> + <i>Nightingale</i>. Yes, Hewlett. + </p> + <p> + <i>Hewlett</i>. Chaunt then till I go to sleep, and if I wake when you + stop, you 'll have this at your head. + </p> + <p class="indent10"> + [Master Hewlett lays his Bluchers on the bed, ready to shy at Master + Nightingale's head in the case contemplated. + </p> + <p> + <i>Nightingale (timidly.)</i> Please, Hewlett? + </p> + <p> + <i>Hewlett</i>. Well, Sir. + </p> + <p> + <i>Nightingale</i>. May I put on my trowsers, please? <i>Hewlett. No</i>, + Sir. Go on, or I '11— + </p> + <p> + <i>Nightingale</i>, + </p> + <p class="indent20"> + "Through pleasures and palaces + </p> + <p class="indent30"> + Though we may roam, + </p> + <p class="indent20"> + Be it ever so humble, + </p> + <p class="indent30"> + There's no place like home. + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + "Home, home! sweet, sweet home! + </p> + <p class="indent20"> + There's no place like ho-ome! + </p> + <p class="indent20"> + There's no place like home!" + </p> + <p class="indent30"> + (Da Capo.) + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + A CAPTURE AND A RESCUE. + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0014" id="linkimage-0014"> </a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0070m.jpg" alt="0070m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0070.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + My young friend, Patrick Champion, George's younger brother, is a late + arrival among us; has much of the family quality and good-nature; is not + in the least a tyrant to the small boys, but is as eager as an Amadis to + fight. He is boxing his way up the school, emulating his great brother. He + fixes his eye on a boy above him in strength or size, and you hear somehow + that a difference has arisen between them at football, and they have their + coats off presently. He has thrashed himself over the heads of many youths + in this manner; for instance, if Champion can lick Dobson, who can thrash + Hobson, how much more, then, can he thrash Hobson. Thus he works up and + establishes his position in the school. Nor does Mr. Prince think it + advisable that we ushers should walk much in the way when these little + differences are being settled, unless there is some gross disparity, or + danger is apprehended. + </p> + <p> + For instance, I own to having seen the row depicted here as I was shaving + at my bed-room window. I did not hasten down to prevent its consequences. + Fogle had confiscated a top, the property of Snivins, the which, as the + little wretch was always pegging it at my toes, I did not regret. Snivins + whimpered; and young Champion came up, lusting for battle. Directly he + made out Fogle, he steered for him, pulling up his coat-sleeves, and + clearing for action. + </p> + <p> + "Who spoke to <i>you</i>, young Champion?" Fogle said, and he flung down + the top to Master Snivins. I knew there would be no fight; and perhaps + Champion, too, was disappointed. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE GARDEN, + </h2> + <h3> + <i>WHERE THE PARLOUR-BOARDERS GO.</i> + </h3> + <p> + Noblemen have been rather scarce at Birch's—but the heir of a great + Prince has been living with the Doctor for some years.—He is Lord + George Gaunt's eldest son, the noble Plan-tagenet Gaunt Gaunt, and nephew + of the Most Honourable the Marquis of Steyne. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0015" id="linkimage-0015"> </a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0074m.jpg" alt="0074m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0074.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + They are very proud of him at the Doctor's—and the two Misses and + Papa, whenever a stranger comes down whom they want to dazzle, are pretty + sure to bring Lord Steyne into the conversation, mentioning the last party + at Gaunt House, and cursorily remarking that they have with them a young + friend who will be in all human probability Marquis of Steyne and Earl of + Gaunt, &c. + </p> + <p> + Plantagenet does not care much about these future honours: provided he can + get some brown sugar on his bread and butter, or sit with three chairs and + play at coach and horses, quite quietly by himself, he is tolerably happy. + He saunters in and out of school when he likes, and looks at the masters + and other boys with a listless grin. He used to be taken to church, but he + laughed and talked in odd places, so they are forced to leave him at home + now. He will sit with a bit of string and play cats-cradle for many hours. + He likes to go and join the very small children at their games. Some are + frightened at him, but they soon cease to fear, and order him about. I + have seen him go and fetch tarts from Mrs. Ruggles for a boy of eight + years old; and cry bitterly if he did not get a piece. He cannot speak + quite plain, but very nearly; and is not more, I suppose, than + three-and-twenty. + </p> + <p> + Of course at home they know his age, though they never come and see him. + But they forget that Miss Rosa Birch is no longer a young chit as she was + ten years ago, when Gaunt was brought to the school. On the contrary, she + has had no small experience in the tender passion, and is at this moment + smitten with a disinterested affection for Plantagenet Gaunt. + </p> + <p> + Next to a little doll with a burnt nose, which he hides away in cunning + places, Mr. Gaunt is very fond of Miss Rosa too. What a pretty match it + would make! and how pleased they would be at Gaunt House, if the grandson + and heir of the great Marquis of Steyne, the descendant of a hundred + Gaunts and Tudors, should marry Miss Birch, the schoolmaster's daughter! + It is true she has the sense on her side, and poor Plantagenet is only an + idiot: but there he is, a zany, with such expectations and such a + pedigree! + </p> + <p> + If Miss Rosa would run away with Mr. Gaunt, she would leave off bullying + her cousin, Miss Anny Raby. Shall I put her up to the notion, and offer to + lend her the money to run away? Mr. Gaunt is not allowed money. He had + some once, but Bullock took him into a corner, and got it from him. He has + a moderate tick opened at the tart-woman's. He stops at Rodwell Regis + through the year, school-time and holiday time; it is all the same to him. + Nobody asks about him, or thinks about him, save twice a year, when the + Doctor goes to Gaunt House, and gets the amount of his bills, and a glass + of wine in the steward's room. + </p> + <p> + And yet you see somehow that he is a gentleman. His manner is different to + that of the owners of that coarse table and parlour at which he is a + boarder, (I do not speak of Miss R. of course, for <i>her</i> manners are + as good as those of a Duchess). When he caught Miss Rosa boxing little + Fiddes's ears, his face grew red, and he broke into a fierce, inarticulate + rage. After that, and for some days, he used to shrink from her; but they + are reconciled now. I saw them this afternoon in the garden, where only + the parlour-boarders walk. He was playful, and touched her with his stick. + She raised her handsome eyes in surprise, and smiled on him very kindly. + </p> + <p> + The thing was so clear, that I thought it my duty to speak to old Zoe + about it. The wicked old catamaran told me she wished that some people + would mind their own business, and hold their tongues—that some + people were paid to teach writing, and not to tell tales and make + mischief: and I have since been thinking whether I ought to communicate + with the Doctor. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE OLD PUPIL. + </h2> + <p class="pfirst"> + <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">A</span>s I came into the + play-grounds this morning, I saw a dashing young fellow, with a tanned + face and a blonde moustache, who was walking up and down the green, + arm-in-arm with Champion Major, and followed by a little crowd of boys. + </p> + <p> + They were talking of old times evidently. "What had become of Irvine and + Smith?"—"Where was Bill Harris and Jones, not Squinny Jones, but + Cocky Jones?"—and so forth. The gentleman was no stranger; he was an + old pupil evidently, come to see if any of his old comrades remained, and + to revisit the <i>cari luogi</i> of his youth. + </p> + <p> + Champion was evidently proud of his arm-fellow. He espied his brother, + young Champion, and introduced him. "Come here, Sir," he called. "The + young 'un wasn't here in your time, Davison." + </p> + <p> + "Pat, Sir," said he, "this is Captain Davison, one of Birch's boys. Ask + him who was among the first in the lines at Sobraon?" + </p> + <p> + Pat's face kindled up as he looked Davison full in the face, and held out + his hand. Old Champion and Davison both blushed. The infantry set up a + "Hurray! hurray! hurray!" Champion leading, and waving his wide-awake. I + protest that the scene did one good to witness. Here was the hero and cock + of the school come back to see his old haunts and cronies. He had always + remembered them. Since he had seen them last, he had faced death and + achieved honour. But for my dignity I would have shied up my hat too. + </p> + <p> + With a resolute step, and his arm still linked in Champion's, Captain + Davison now advanced, followed by a wake of little boys, to that corner of + the green where Mrs. Buggies has her tart-stand. + </p> + <p> + "Hullo, Mother Buggies! don't you remember me?" he said, and shook her by + the hand. + </p> + <p> + "Lor, if it ain't Davison Major!" she said. "Well, Davison Major, you owe + me fourpence for two sausage-rolls from when you went away." + </p> + <p> + Davison laughed, and all the little crew of boys set up a similar chorus. + </p> + <p> + "I buy the whole shop," he said. "Now, young 'uns—eat away!" + </p> + <p> + Then there was such a "Hurray! hurray!" as surpassed the former cheer in + loudness. Everybody engaged in it except Piggy Duff, who made an instant + dash at the three-cornered puffs, but was stopped by Champion, who said + there should be a fair distribution. And so there was, and no one lacked, + neither of raspberry open-tarts, nor of mellifluous bull's-eyes, nor of + polonies, beautiful to the sight and taste. + </p> + <p> + The hurraying brought out the Doctor himself, who put his hand up to his + spectacles and started when he saw the old pupil. Each blushed when he + recognised the other; for seven years ago they had parted not good + friends. + </p> + <p> + "What—Davison?" the Doctor said, with a tremulous voice. "God bless + you, my dear fellow!"—and they shook hands. "A half-holiday, of + course, boys," he added, and there was another hurray: there was to be no + end to the cheering that day. + </p> + <p> + "How's—how's the family, Sir?" Captain Davison asked. + </p> + <p> + "Come in and see. Flora's grown quite a lady. Dine with us, of course. + Champion Major, come to dinner at five. Mr. Titmarsh, the pleasure of your + company?" The Doctor swung open the garden-gate: the old master and pupil + entered the house reconciled. + </p> + <p> + I thought I would just peep into Miss Raby's room, and tell her of this + event. She was working away at her linen there, as usual, quiet and + cheerful. + </p> + <p> + "You should put up," I said with a smile; "the Doctor has given us a + half-holiday." + </p> + <p> + "I never have holidays," Miss Raby replied. + </p> + <p> + Then I told her of the scene I had just witnessed, of the arrival of the + old pupil, the purchase of the tarts, the proclamation of the holiday, and + the shouts of the boys of "Hurray, Davison." + </p> + <p> + "<i>Who</i> is it?" cried out Miss Raby, starting and turning as white as + a sheet. + </p> + <p> + I told her it was Captain Davison from India, and described the appearance + and behaviour of the Captain. When I had finished speaking, she asked me + to go and get her a glass of water; she felt unwell. But she was gone when + I came back with the water. + </p> + <p> + I know all now. After sitting for a quarter of an hour with the Doctor, + who attributed his guest's uneasiness no doubt to his desire to see Miss + Laura Birch, Davison started up and said he wanted to see Miss Raby. "You + remember, Sir, how kind she was to my little brother," he said. Whereupon + the Doctor, with a look of surprise that anybody should want to see Miss + Raby, said she was in the little school-room, whither the Captain went, + knowing the way from old times. + </p> + <p> + A few minutes afterwards, Miss B. and Miss Z. returned from a drive with + Plantagenet Gaunt in their one-horse fly, and being informed of Davison's + arrival, and that he was closeted with Miss Raby in the little + school-room, of course made for that apartment at once. I was coming into + it from the other door. I wanted to know whether she had drunk the water. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><a name="linkimage-0016" id="linkimage-0016"> </a> + </p> + <div class="fig" style="width:65%;"> + <img src="images/0084m.jpg" alt="0084m " width="100%" /><br /> + </div> + <h5> + <a href="images/0084.jpg"><i>Original</i></a> + </h5> + <p> + This is what both parties saw. The two were in this very attitude. "Well, + upon my word!" cries out Miss Zoe, But Davison did not let go his hold; + and Miss Raby's head only sank down on his hand. + </p> + <p> + "You must get another governess, Sir, for the little boys," Frank Davison + said to the Doctor. "Anny Raby has promised to come with me." + </p> + <p> + You may suppose I shut to the door on my side. And when I returned to the + little school-room, it was blank and empty. Everybody was gone. I could + hear the boys shouting at play in the green, outside. The glass of water + was on the table where I had placed it. I took it and drank it myself, to + the health of Anny Raby and her husband. It was rather a choker. + </p> + <p> + But of course I wasn't going to stop on at Birch's. When his young friends + re-assemble on the 1st of February next, they will have two new masters. + Prince resigned too, and is at present living with me at my old lodgings + at Mrs. Cammysole's. If any nobleman or gentleman wants a private tutor + for his son, a note to the Rev. F. Prince will find him there. + </p> + <p> + Miss Clapperclaw says we are both a couple of old fools; and that she + knew, when I set off last year to Rodwell Regis, after meeting the two + young ladies at a party at General Champion's house in our street, that I + was going on a goose's errand. Well, well, that journey is over now; I + shall dine at the General's on Christmas-day, where I shall meet Captain + and Mrs. Davison, and some of the old pupils of Birch's; and I wish a + merry Christmas to them, and to all young and old boys. + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="pfirst"> + <span class="dropcap" style="font-size: 4.00em">T</span>he play is done; + the curtain drops, + </p> + <p> + Slow falling, to the prompter's bell: + </p> + <p> + A moment yet the actor stops, + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + And looks around, to say farewell. + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + It is an irksome word and task; + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + And when he 's laughed and said his say, + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + He shows, as he removes the mask, + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + A face that's anything but gay. + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + One word, ere yet the evening ends, + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + Let's close it with a parting rhyme, + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + And pledge a hand to all young friends, + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + As fits the merry Christmas-time. + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + On life's wide scene you, too, have parts, + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + That Fate ere long shall bid you play; + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + Good night! with honest gentle hearts + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + A kindly greeting go alway! + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + Good night!—I'd say, the griefs, the joys, + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + Just hinted in this mimic page, + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + The triumphs and defeats of boys, + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + Are but repeated in our age. + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + I 'd say, your woes were not less keen, + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + Your hopes more vain, than those of men; + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + Your pangs or pleasures of fifteen, + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + At forty-five played o'er again. + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + I'd say, we suffer and we strive + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + Not less nor more as men than boys; + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + With grizzled beards at forty-five, + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + As erst at twelve, in corduroys. + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + And if, in time of sacred youth, + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + We learned at home to love and pray, + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + Pray Heaven, that early Love and Truth + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + May never wholly pass away. + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + And in the world, as in the school, + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + I 'd say, how fate may change and shift; + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + The prize be sometimes with the fool, + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + The race not always to the swift. + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + The strong may yield, the good may fall, + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + The great man he a vulgar clown, + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + The knave be lifted over all, + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + The kind cast pitilessly down. + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + Who knows the inscrutable design? + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + Blessed be He who took and gave! + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + Why should your mother, Charles, not mine, + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + Be weeping at her darling's grave? * + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + We bow to Heaven that will'd it so, + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + That darkly rules the fate of all, + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + That sends the respite or the blow, + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + That's free to give or to recall. + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + This crowns his feast with wine and wit: + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + Who brought him to that mirth aud state? + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + His betters, see, below him sit, + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + Or hunger hopeless at the gate. + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + Who bade the mud from Dives' wheel + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + To spurn the rags of Lazarus? + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + Come, brother, in that dust we '11 kneel, + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + Confessing Heaven that ruled it thus. + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="indent30"> + * <i>C. B., ob. 29 Nov. 1848, set. 42.</i> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + So each shall mourn, in life's advance, + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + Dear hopes, dear friends, untimely killed; + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + Shall grieve for many a forfeit chance, + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + And longing passion unfulfilled. + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + Amen! whatever fate be sent,— + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + Pray God the heart may kindly glow, + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + Although the heart with cares be bent, + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + And whitened with the winter-snow. + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + Come wealth or want, come good or ill, + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + Let young and old accept their part, + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + And bow before the Awful Will, + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + And bear it with an honest heart. + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + Who misses, or who wins the prize? + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + Go, lose or conquer as you can: + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + But if you fail, or if you rise, + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + Be each, pray God, a gentleman, + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + A gentleman, or old or young! + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + (Bear kindly with my humble lays); + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + The sacred chorus first was sung + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + Upon the first of Christmas-days: + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + The shepherds heard it overhead— + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + The joyful angels raised it then: + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + Glory to Heaven 011 high, it said, + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + And peace 011 earth to gentle men. + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + My song, save this, is little worth; + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + I lay the weary pen aside, + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + And wish you health, and love, and mirth, + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + As fits the solemn Christmas-tide. + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + As fits the holy Christmas birth, + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + Be this, good friends, our carol still— + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + Be peace on earth, be peace on earth, + </p> + <p class="indent15"> + To men of gentle will. + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h3> + THE END. + </h3> + <div style="height: 6em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 45554 ***</div> + </body> +</html> |