BCSB LIBRARY 53 GST CHAIRING TOM IN THE QUADRANGLE. Tom Brown At Rugby h CALDWELL COMPANY A1EV YORK TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. CHAPTER I. " I'm the poet of White Horse Vale, sir, With liberal notions under my cap." Ballad. THE Browns have become illustrious by the pen of Thackeray and the pencil of Doyle within the memory of the young gentlemen who are now matriculating at the universities. Notwithstanding the well-merited but late fame which has now fallen upon them, any one at all acquainted with the family must feel that much has yet to be written and said before the British nation will be properly sensible of how much of its greatness it owes to the Browns. For centuries, in their quiet, dogged, homespun way they have been subduing the earth in most English counties, and leav- ing their mark in American forests and Australian up- lands. Wherever the fleets and armies of England have won renown, there stalwart sons of the Browns have done yeomen's work. With the yew bow and cloth-yard shaft at Cressy and Agincourt with the brown bill and pike under the brave Lord Willoughby, with culverin and demi-culverin against Spaniards and Dutchmen with hand-grenade and saber, and musket and bayonet, under Rodney and St. Vincent, Wolfe and Moore, Nelson and Wellington, they have carried their lives in their hands: getting hard knocks and 2 TOM BROWN S SCHOOL DAYS. hard work in plenty, which was on the whole what they looked for, and the best thing for them ; and lit- tle praise or pudding, which indeed they and most of us are better without. Talbots and Stanleys, St. Maurs, and such-like folk, have led armies, and made laws time out of mind ; but those noble families would be somewhat astounded if the accounts ever came to be fairly taken to find how small their work for England has been by the side of that of the Browns. These latter, indeed, have until the present genera- tion rarely been sung by poet, or chronicled by sage. They have wanted their " sacer vates" having been too solid to rise to the top by themselves, and not having been largely gifted with the talent of catching hold of, and holding on tight to, whatever good things happened to be going the foundation of the fortunes of so many noble families. But the world goes on its way, and the wheel turns and the wrongs of the Browns like other wrongs, seem in a fair way to get righted. And this present writer having for many years of his life been a devout Brown-worshiper, and moreover having the honor of being nearly connected with an eminently respectable branch of the great Brown family is anxious, so far as in him lies, to help the wheel over and throw his stone on to the pile. However, gentle reader, or simple reader, whichever you may be, lest you should be led to waste your precious time upon these pages, I make so bold as at once to tell you the sort of folk you'll have to meet and put up with, if you and I are to jog on comfortably together. You shall hear at once what sort of folk the Browns are, at least my branch of them ; and then if you don't like the sort, why, cut the concern at once, TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 3 and let you and I cry quits before either of us can grumble at the other. In the first place, the Browns are a fighting family. One may question their wisdom, or wit, or beauty, but about their fight there can be no question. Wherever hard knocks of any kind, visible or invisible, are going there the Brown who is nearest must shove in his car- case. And these carcases for the most part answer very well to the characteristic propensity ; they are a square-headed and snake-necked generation, broad in the shoulder, deep in the chest and thin in the flank, carrying no lumber. Then for clanship, they are as bad as Highlanders ; it is amazing the belief they have in one another. With them there is nothing like the Browns, to the third and fourth generation. "Blood is thicker than water," is one of their pet sayings. They can't be happy unless they are always meeting one another. Never were such people for family gatherings, which, were you a stranger, or sensitive, you might think had better not have been gathered together. For during the whole time of their being together they luxuriate in telling one another their minds on whatever subject turns up; and their minds are wonderfully antagonistic, and all their opinions are downright beliefs. Till you've been among them some time and understand them, you can't think but that they are quarreling. Not a bit of it; they love and respect one another ten times the more after a good set family arguing bout, and go back, one to his curacy, another to his chambers, and another to his regiment, freshened for work, and more than ever convinced that the Browns are the height of company. This family training too, combined with their turn for combativeness, makes them eminently quixotic., 4 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. They can't let anything alone Avhich they think going wrong. They must speak their mind about it, annoying all easy-going folk ; and spend their time and money in having a tinker at it, however hopeless the job. It is an impossibility to a Brown to leave the most dis- reputable lame dog on the other side of a stile. Most other folk get tired of such work. The old Browns, with red faces, white whiskers, and bald heads, go on believing and fighting to a green old age. They have always a crotchet going, till the old man with the scythe reaps and garners them away for troublesome old boys as they are. And the most provoking thing is, that no failures knock them up or make them hold their hands, or think you, or me, or other sane people in the right. Failures slide off them like July rain off a duck's back feathers. Jem and his whole family turn out bad, and cheat them one week, and the next they are doing the same thing for Jack ; and when he goes to the tread- mill, and his wife and children to the workhouse, they will be on the lookout for Bill to take his place. However, it is time for us to get from the general to the particular ; so, leaving the great army of Browns, who are scattered over the whole empire on which the sun never sets, and whose general diffusion I take to be the chief cause of that empire's stability, let us at once fix our attention upon the small nest of Browns in which our hero was hatched, and which dwelt in that portion of the royal county of Berks which is called the Yale of White Horse. Most of you have probably traveled down the Great Western Railway as far as Swindon. Those of you who did so with their eyes open, have been aware, soon after leaving the Didcot station, of a fine range of chalk TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 5 hills running parallel with the rail way on the left-hand side as you go down, and distant some two or three miles, more or less, from the line. The highest point in the range is the White Horse Hill, which you come in front of just before you stop at the Shrivenham sta- tion. If you love English scenery, and have a few hours to spare, you can't do better, the next time you pass, than stop at the Farringdon-road or Shrivenham sta- tion, and make your way to that highest point. And those who care for the vague old stories that haunt country sides, all about England, will not, if they are wise, be content with only a few hours' stay, for glorious as the view is the neighborhood is yet more interesting for its relics of by gone times. I only know two English neighborhoods thoroughly, and in each, within a circle of five miles, there is enough of interest and beauty to last any reasonable man his life. I be- lieve this to be the case almost throughout the coun- try ; but each has a special attraction, and none can be richer than the one I am speaking of, and going to introduce you to very particularly ; for on this subject I must be prosy ; so those that don't care for England in detail may skip the chapter. O young England ! young England! You who are born into these racing railroad times, when there's a Great Exhibition or some monster sight, every year ; and you can get over a couple of thousand miles of ground for three pound ten, in a five weeks' holiday ; why don't you know more of your own birthplaces? You're all in the ends of the earth, it seems to me, as soon as you get your necks out of the educational col- lar, for midsummer holidays, long vacations, or what not. Going round Ireland, with a return ticket, in a fortnight ; dropping your copies of Tennyson on the C TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL CAYS. tops of Swiss mountains ; or pulling down the Danube in Oxford racing-boats. And when you get home for a quiet fortnight, you turn the steam off, and lie on your backs in the paternal garden, surrounded by the last batch of books from Mudie's library, and half bored to death. Well, well ! I know it has its good side. You all patter French more or less, and perhaps German ; you have seen men and cities, no doubt, and have your opinions, such as they are, about schools of painting, high art, and all that; have seen the pictures at Dresden and the Louvre, and know the taste of sauer- kraut. All I say is, you don't know your own lanes and woods and fields. Though you may be chock-full of science, not one in twenty of you knows where to find the wood-sorrel, or bee-orchis which grows in the next wood or on the down three miles off, or what the bog -bean and wood-sage are good for. And as for the country legends, the stories of the old gable-ended farm-houses, the place where the last skirmish was fought in the civil wars, where the parish butts stood, where the last highwaymen turned to bay, where the last ghost was laid by the parson, they're gone out of date altogether. Now, in my time, when we got home by the old coach, which put us down at the cross-roads with our boxes, the first day of the holidays, and had been driven off by the family coachman, singing " Dulce Domum" at the top of our voices, there we were, fix- tures, till black Monday came round. We had to cut out our own amusements within a walk or ride of home. And so we got to know all the country-folk, and their ways and songs and stories by heart ; and went over the fields, and woods, and hills, again and again, till we made friends of them all. We were Berk- TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 7 shire, or Gloucestershire, or Yorkshire boys, and you're young cosmopolites, belonging to all counties and no countries. No doubt it's all right I dare say it is. This is the day of large views and glorious humanity, and all that; but I wish backsword play hadn't gone out in the Yale of White Horse, and that that con- founded Great Western hadn't carried away Alfred's Hill to make an embankment. But to return to the said Yale of 'White Horse, the country in which the first scenes of this true and inter- esting story are laid. As I said, the Great Western now runs right through it, and it is a land of large rich pastures, bounded by fox-fences, and covered with fine hedgerow timber, with here and there a nice little gorse or spinney, where abideth poor Charley, having no other cover to which to betake himself for miles and miles, when pushed out some fine November morn- ing by the Old Berkshire. Those who have been there, and well mounted, only know how he and the stanch little pack who dash after him heads high and sterns low with a breast-high scent can consume the ground at such times. There being little plow-land and few woods, the vale is only an average sporting country, except for hunting. The villages are strag- gling, queer, old fashioned places, the houses being dropped down without the least regularity, in nooks and out-of-the-way corners by the sides of shadowy lanes and footpaths, each with its patch of garden. They are built chiefly of good gray stone, and thatched ; though I see that within the last year or two the red- brick cottages are multiplying, for the vale is begin- ning to manufacture largely both brick and tiles. There are lots of waste ground by the side of the roads jn every village, amounting often to village greens, 8 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. where feed the pigs and ganders of the people ; and these roads are old-fashioned homely roads, very dirty and badly made, and hardly endurable in winter, but still pleasant jog-trot roads running through the great pasture lands, dotted here and there with little clumps of thorns, where the sleek kine are feeding, with no fence on either side of them, and a gate at the end of each field, which makes you get out of your gig (if you keep one), and gives you a chance of looking about you every quarter of a mile. One of the moralists whom we sat under in my youth, was it the great Richard Swiveller, or Mr. Stiggins ? says, " We are born in a vale, and must take the con- sequences of being found in such a situation." These consequences, I, for one, am ready to encounter. I pity people who weren't born in a vale. I don't mean a flat country, but a vale that is, aflat country bounded by hills. The having your hill always in view, if you choose to turn toward him, that's the essence of a vale. There he is forever in the distance, your friend and companion ; you never lose him as you do in hilly districts. And then what a hill is the "White Horse Hill! There it stands right up above all the rest, nine hundred feet above the sea, and the boldest, bravest shape fora chalk hill that you ever saw. Let us go up to the top of him, and see what is to be found there. Ay, you may well w r onder and think it odd you never heard of this before ; but, wonder or not, as you please, there are hundreds of such things lying about England, which wiser folk than you know nothing of, and care nothing for. Yes, it's a magnificent Roman camp, and no mis- take, with gates, and ditch, and mounds, all as com- plete as it was t \veiity years after the strong old rogues TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 9 left it. Here, right up on the highest point, from which they say you can see eleven counties, they trenched round all the table-land, some twelve or four- teen acres, as was their custom, for they couldn't bear anybody to overlook them, and made their eyry. The ground falls away rapidly on all sides. Was there ever such turf in the whole world ? You sink up to your ankles at every step, and yet the spring of it is delicious. There is always a breeze in the " camp," as it is called ; and here it lies just as the Eomans left it, except that cairn on the east side left by her majesty's corps of sappers and miners the other da}% when they and the engineer officer had finished their sojourn there, and their surveys for the ordnance map of Berkshire. It is altogether a place that you won't forget a place to open a man's soul and make him prophesy as he looks down on that great vale spread out as the garden of the Lord before him, and wave on wave of the mysterious downs behind ; and to the right and left the chalk hills running away into the distance along which he can trace for miles the old Roman road, " the Ridge way " (" the Rudge," as the country folk call it), keeping straight along the highest back of the hills such a place as Balak brought Balaam to, and told him to prophesy against the peo- ple in the valley beneath. And he could not, neither shall you, for they are a people of the Lord who abide there. And now we leave the camp, and descend toward the west, and are on the Ashdown. "We are treading on heroes. It is sacred ground for Englishmen, more sacred than all but one or two fields where their bones lie whitening. For this is the actual place where our Alfred won his great battle, the battle of Ashdown 10 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. ("yEscendum " in the chroniclers), which broke the Danish power, and made England a Christian land. The Danes held the camp and the slope where we are standing the whole crown of the hill, in fact. " The heathen had beforehand seized the higher ground," as old Asser says, having wasted everything behind them from London, and being just ready to burst down on the fair vale, Alfred's own birthplace and heritage. And up the heights came the Saxons as they did at the Alma. " The Christians led up their line from the lower ground. There stood also on that same spot a single thorn-tree, marvelous stumpy (which we our- selves with our very own eyes have seen)." Bless the old chronicler ! does he think nobody ever saw the " single thorn-tree " but himself ? Why, there it stands to this very day, just on the edge of the slope, and I saw it not three weeks since ; an old single thorn-tree, " marvelous stumpy." At least if it isn't the same tree it ought to have been, for it's just in the place where the battle must have been won or lost " around which, as I was saying, the two lines of foeraen came together in battle with a huije shout. And in this o o place, one of the two kings of the heathen and five of his earls fell down and died, and many thousands of the heathen side in the same place." * After which * " Pagani editioreni locum praeoccupaverant. Christiana ab infe- riori loco aciem dirigebant. Erat quoque in eodein loco unicaspinosa arbor, brevis admodum (quam nos ipsi nostris propriis oculis vidi- mus). Circa quam ergo hostiles inter se acies cum ingenti clamore hostiliter conveniunt. Quo in loco alter de duobus Paganorum reg- ibus et quinque comites occisi occubuerunt, et multa millia Paganse partis in eodem loco. Cecidit illic ergo Boegsceg Rex, et Sidroc ille senex comes, et Sidroc Junior comes, et Obsbern comes," etc. An- ncdes Rerum Oestarum JSlfredi Magni, Auctore Asseri/o. Becensutf Francticus Wise. Oxford, 1722, p. 23. TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 11 crowning mercy, the pious king, that there might never be wanting a sign and a memorial to the coun- try side, carved out on the northern side of the chalk hill, under the camp, where it is almost precipitous, the great Saxon white horse, which he who will may see from the railway, and which gives its name to the vale, over which it has looked these thousand years and more. Eight down below the White Horse, is a curious deep and broad gulley called " the Manger/' into one side of which the hills fall with a series of the most lovely sweeping curves, known as " the Giant's Stairs ;" they are not a bit like stairs, but I never saw anything like them anywhere else, with their short green turf, and tender blue-bells, and gossamer and thistle-down gleaming in the sun, and the sheep-paths, running along their sides like ruled lines. The other side of the Manger is formed by the Drag- on's Hill, a curious little round self-confident fellow, thrown forward from the range, and utterly unlike everything round him. On this hill some deliverer of mankind, St. George, the country-folks used to tell me, killed a dragon. Whether it was St. George, I cannot say : but surely a dragon was killed there, for you may see the marks yet where his blood ran down, and more by token the place where it ran down is the easiest way up the hillside. Passing along the Ridgeway to the west for about a mile, we come to a little clump of young beech and firs, with a growth of thorn and privet underwood. Here you may find nests of the strong down partridge and peewit, but take care that the keeper isn't down upon you ; and in the middle of it is an old cromlech, a huge flat stone raised on seven or eight others, and 12 TOM BUOWir'S SCHOOL DAYS. led up to by a path, with large single stones set up on each side. This is Wayland Smith's cave, a place of classic fame now ; but as Sir Walter has touched it, I may as well let it alone, and refer you to " Kenil- worth " for the legend. The thick deep wood which you see in the hollow about a mile off, surrounds Ashdown Park, built by Inigo Jones. Four broad alleys are cut through the wood from circumference to center, and each leads to one face of the house. The mystery of the downs hangs about house and wood, as they stand there alone so unlike all around, with the green slopes studded with great stones jurt about this part, stretch ing a way on all sides. It was a wise Lord Craven, I think, who pitched his tent there. Passing along the Eidgeway to the east, we soon come to culti vated land. The downs, strictly so called, are no more; Lincolnshire farmers have been imported, and the long fresh slopes are sheep-walks no more, but grow famous turnips and barley. One of those im- provers lives over there at the " Seven Barrows " farm another mystery of the great downs. There are the barrows still, solemn and silent, like ships in the calm sea, the sepulchers of some sons of men. But of whom ? It is three miles from the White Horse, too far for the slain of Ashdown to be buried there who shall say what heroes are waiting there ? But we must get down into the vale again, and so away by the Great Western Railway to town, for time and the printer's devil press, and it is a terrible long and slippery descent, and a shocking bad road. At the bottom, however, there is a pleasant public, whereat we must really take a modest quencher, for the down here is a provocative of thirst. So we pull up under an old oak which stands before the door. TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 13 " "What is the name of your hill, landlord ? " " Blawing STWUN Hill, sir, to be sure." [Reader. "Sturm?" AUTHOR. " Stone, stupid the Blowing Stwie"~\ "And of your house ? I can't make out the sign." " Blawing Stwun, sir," says the landlord, pouring out his old ale from a Toby-Philpot jug, with a melodi- ous crash, into the long necked glass. " What queer names ! " say we, sighing at the end of our draught, and holding out the glass to be replen- ished. " Be'an't queer at all, as I can see, sir," says mine host, handing back our glass, " seeing as this here is the Blawing Stwun hisself," putting his hand on a square lump of stone some three feet and a half high, perforated with two or three queer holes, like petrified antediluvian rat-holes, which lies there close under the oak, under our very nose. We are more than ever puzzled, and drink our second glass of ale wondering AV hat will come next. "Like to hear un, sir?" says mine host, setting down TobyPhilpot on the tray, and resting both hands on the "Stwun." We are ready for anything ; and he, without waiting for a reply, ap- plies his mouth to one of the rat-holes. Something must come of it, if he doesn't burst. Good heavens ! I hope he has no apopleptic tendencies. Yes, here it comes, sure enough, a grewsome sound between a moan and a roar, and spreads itself away over the valley, and up the hillside, and into the woods at the back of the house a ghost-like, awful voice. " Um do say, sir," says mine host rising purple-faced, while the moan is still coming out of the " Stwun," " as they used in old times to warn the country side, by blawing the stwun when the enemy was acomin' and as how folks 14 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. could make un heered them for seven mile round; leastways, so I've heered Lawyer Smith say, and he knows a smart sight about them old times." We can hardly swallow Lawyer Smith's seven miles ; but could the blowing of the stone have been a summons, a sort of sending the fiery cross round the neigh- borhood in the old times? What old times? Who knows ? We pay for our beer, and are thank- ful. "And what's the name of the village just below, landlord ? " "Kingstone Lisle, sir." " Fine plantations you've got here? " " Yes, sir, the Squire's 'mazin' fond of trees and such like." " No wonder. He's got some real beauties to be fond of. Good day, landlord." " Good day, sir, and a pleasant ride to 'e." And now, my boys, you whom I want to get for readers, have you had enough ? Will you give in at once, and say you're convinced, and let me begin my story, or will you have more of it? Remember, I've only been over a little bit of the hillside yet what you could ride round easily on your ponies in an hour. I'm only just come down into the vale, by Blowing Stone Hill, and if I once begin about the vale, what's to stop me ? You'll have to hear all about Wantage, the birthplace of Alfred, and Farringdon, which held out so long for Charles the First (the vale was near Oxford, and dreadfully malignant ; full of Throgmor- tons, Puseys, and Pyes, and such like, and their brawny retainers). Did you ever read Thomas In- goldsby's "Legend of Hamilton Tighe?" If you haven't you ought to have, Well, Farringdon is where TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 15 he lived before he went to sea ; his real name was Ilampden Pye, and the Pyes were the great folk at at Farringdon. Then there's Pusey, you've heard of the Pusey horn, which King Canute gave to the Pu- sey s of that day, and which the gallant old squire, lately gone to his rest (whom Berkshire freeholders turned out of last parliament, to their eternal disgrace, for voting according to his conscience), used to bring out on high days, holidays, and bonfire nights. And the splendid old cross church at Uffington, the Uffingas town ; the whole country-side teems with Saxon names and memories ! And the old moated grange at Corap- ton, nestled close under the hillside, where twenty Marianas may have lived, with its bright water-lilies in the moat, and its yew walk, " the cloister walk," and its peerless terraced gardens. There they all are, and twenty things besides ; for those who care about them, and have eyes. And these are the sort of things you may find, I believe, every one of you, in any com- mon English country neighborhood. Will you look for them under your own noses, or will you not? Well, well; I've done what I can to make you, and if you will go gadding over half Europe now every holidays, I can't help it. I was born and bred a west-country-man, thank God ! a Wessex man, a citizen of the noblest Saxon kingdom of Wessex, a regular, " Angular Saxon," the very soul of me " ad- scriptus glebe." There's nothing like the old country- side for me, and no music like the twang of the real old Saxon tongue, as one gets it fresh from the veri- table chaw in the White Horse Vale : and I say with " Gaarge Ridler," the old west-country yeoman, 16 TOM nnowN'S SCHOOL DAYS. " Throo aall the waarld owld Gaarge would bwoast, Commend me to merry owld England mwoast : While vools gwoes prating vur and nigh, We stwops at whum, my dog and I." Here at any rate lived and stopped at home, Squire Brown, J.P. for the county of Berks, in a village rear the foot of the White Horse range. And here he dealt out justice and mercy in a rough way, and begat sons and daughters, and hunted the fox, and grumbled at the badness of the roads and the times. And his wife dealt out stockings, and calico shirts, and smock frocks, and comforting drinks to the old folks with the "rheu- matiz," and good counsel to all: and kept the coal and clothes clubs going, for yule-tide, when the bands of mummers came round, dressed out in ribbons and col- ored paper caps, and stamped round the squire's kitchen, repeating in true sing-song vernacular the leg- end of St. George and his fight, and the ten-pound doctor, who plays his part at healing the saint a relic, I believe, of the old middle-age mysteries. It was the first dramatic representation which greeted the eyes of little Tom, who was brought down into the kitchen by his nurse to witness it, at the mature age of three years. Tom was the eldest child of his parents, and from his earliest babyhood exhibited the family characteristics in great strength, lie was a hearty strong boy from the first, given to fighting with and escaping from his nurse, and fraternizing with all the village boys, with whom he made expeditions all round the neighborhood. And here in the quiet old- fashioned country village, under the shadow of the everlasting hills, Tom Brown was reared, and never left it till he went first to school when nearly eight years of age, for in those days change of air twice a BROWN'S SCHOOL BAITS. 17 year was not thought absolutely necessary for the health of all her majesty's lieges. I have been credibly informed, and am inclined to believe, that the various Boards of Directors of rail- way companies, those gigantic jobbers and bribers, while quarreling about everything else, agreed together some ten years back, to buy up the learned profession of medicine, body and soul. To this end they set apart several millions of money, which they contin- ually distribute judiciously among the doctors, stipu- lating only this one thing, that they shall prescribe change of air to every patient, who can pay or borrow money to pay, a railway fare, and see their prescription carried out. If it be not for this, why is it that none of us can be well at home for a year together? It wasn't so twenty years ago, not a bit of it. The Browns didn't go out of the county once in five years. A visit to Reading or Abingdon twice a-year, at Assizes or Quarter Sessions, which the squire made on his horse, with a pair of saddle-bags containing his ward- robe, a stay of a day or two at some country neigh- bor's, or an expedition to a county ball, or the yeo- manry review, made up the sum of the Brown locomo- tion in most years. A stray Brown from some dis- tant county dropped in every now and then ; or from Oxford, on grave nag, an old don, contemporary of the squire ; and were looked upon by the Brown house- hold and the villagers with the same sort of feeling with which we now regard a man who has crossed the Rocky Mountains, or launched a boat on the Great Lake in Central Africa. The White Horse Vale, re- member, was traversed by no great road ; nothing but country parish roads, and these very bad. Only one coach ran there, and this one only from "Wantage to 18 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. London, so that the western part of the Vale was with- out regular means of moving oil, and certainly didn't seem to want them. There was the canal, by the way, which supplied the country side with coal, and up and down which continually went the long barges, with the big black men lounging by the side of the horses along the towing path, and the women in bright colored handkerchiefs standing in the sterns steering. Standing I say, but you could never see whether they were standing or sitting, all but their heads and shoulders being out of sight in the cozy little cabins which occupied some eight feet of the stern, and which Tom Brown pictured to himself as the most desirable of residences. His nurse told him that those good- natured-looking women were in the constant habit of enticing children into the barges and taking them up to London and selling them, which Tom wouldn't be- lieve, and which made him resolve as soon as possible to accept the oft-proffered invitation of these sirens to " young master," to come in and have a ride. But as yet the nurse was too much for Tom. Yet why should I after all abuse the gadabout pro- pensities of my countrymen? We are a vagabond nation now, that's certain, for better for worse. I am a vagabond ; I have been away from home no less than five distinct times in the last year. The queen sets us the example we are moving on from top to bottom. Little dirty Jack, who abides in Clement's Inn gate- way and blacks my boots for a penny, takes his month's hop-picking every year as a matter of course. Why shouldn't he ? I'm delighted at it. I love vaga- bonds, only I prefer poor to rich ones ; couriers and ladies' maids, imperials and traveling carriages, are an abomination unto me I cannot away with them, TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 19 But for dirty Jack, and every good fellow who, in the words of the capital French song, moves about, " Comme le lima<;on, Portant tout son bagage, Ses ineubles, sa maison," on his own back, why, good luck to them, and many a merry road-side adventure, and steaming supper in the chimney corners of road-side inns, Swiss chalets, Hottentot kraals, or wherever else they like to go. So having succeeded in contradicting myself in my tirst chapter (which gives me great hopes that you will all go on, and think me a good fellow not withstanding my crotchet), I shall here shut up for the present, and consider my ways: having resolved to " sar' it out," as we say in the Vale, " holus bolus " just as it comes, and then you'll probably get the truth out of me. 20 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. CHAPTER II. THE VEAST. " And the king commandetli and forbiddeth, that from henceforth neither fairs nor markets be kept in church-yards, for the honor of the church." STATUTES: 13 Edw. I. Stat. n. cap. vi. As THAT venerable and learned poet (whose volumin- ous works we all think it the correct thing to admire and talk about, but don't read often), most truly says, " the child is father to the man ; " d fortiori^ therefore he must be father to the boy. So, as we are going at any rate to see Tom Brown through his boyhood, supposing we never get any further (which if you show a proper sense of the value of this history, there is no knowing but what we may), let us have a look at the life and environments of the child, in the quiet country village to which we were introduced in the last chapter. Tom, as has been already said, was a robust and combative urchin, and at the age of four began to struggle against the yoke and authority of his nurse. That functionary was a good-hearted, tearful, scatter- brained girl, lately taken by Tom's mother, Madam Brown, as she was called, from the village school to be trained as nurserymaid. Madam Brown was a rare trainer of servants, and spent herself freely in the pro- fession ; for profession it was, and gave her more trouble by ball than many people take to earn a good TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DATS. 21 income. Her servants were known and sought after for miles round. Almost all the girls who attained a certain place in the village school were taken by her, one or two at a time, as housemaids, laundry maids, nurserymaids, or kitchenmaids, and after a year or two's drilling, were started in life among the neigh- bouring families, with good principles and wardrobes. One of the results of this system was the perpetual despair of Mrs. Brown's cook and own maid, who no sooner had a notable girl made to their hands, than missus was sure to find a good place for her and send her off, taking in fresh importations from the school. Another was, that the house was always full of young girls, with clean shining faces; who broke plates and scorched linen, but made an atmosphere of cheerful homely life about the place, good for every one who came within its influence. Mrs. Brown loved young people, and in fact human creatures in general, above plates and linen. They were more like a lot of elder children than servants, and felt to her more as a mother or aunt than as a mistress. Tom's nurse was one who took in her instruction very slowly she seemed to have two left hands and no head ; and so Mrs. Brown kept her on longer than usual, that she might expend her awkwardness and for- getf ulness upon those who would not judge and punish her too strictly for them. Charity Lamb was her name. It had been the im- memorial habit of the v.illage, to christen children either by Bible names, or by those of the cardinal and other virtues ; so that one was forever hearing in the village street, or on the green, shrill sounds of, " Pru- dence ! Prudence ! thee cum' out o' the gutter ; " or, " Mercy I d'rat the girl, what bist thee a doin' wi* 22 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. little Faith ? " and there were Kuths, Kachels, Keziahs, in every corner. The same with the boys ; they were Benjamins, Jacobs, Noahs, Enochs. I suppose the cus- tom has come down from Puritan times, there it is at any rate, very strong still in the Vale. Well, from early morn, till dewy eve, when she had it out of him in the cold tub before putting him to bed, Charity and Tom were pitted against one another. Physical power was as yet on the side of Charity, but she hadn't a chance with him wherever head-work was wanted. This war of independence began every morn- ing before breakfast, when Charity escorted her charge to a neighboring farm-house which supplied the Browns and where, by his mother's wish, Master Tom went to drink whey, before breakfast. Tom had no sort of ob- jection to whey, but he had a decided liking for curds, which were forbidden as unwholesome, and there was seldom a morning that he did not manage to secure a handful of hard curds, in defiance of Charity and of the farmer's wife. The latter good soul was a gaunt, angular woman, who with an old black bonnet on the top of her head, the strings dangling about her shoul- ders, and her gown tucked through her pocket-holes, went clattering about the dairy, cheese-room and yard, in high pattens. Charity was some sort of niece of the old lady's, and was consequently free of the farm-house and garden, into which she could not resist going for the purposes of gossip and flirtation with the heir-ap- parent, who was a dawdling fellow, never out at work as he ought to have been. The moment Charity had found her cousin, or any other occupation, Tom would slip away ; and in a minute shrill cries would be heard from the dairy, " Charity, Charity, thee lazy huzzy, where bist?" and Tom would break cover, hands and TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 23 mouth full of curds, and take refuge on the shaky sur- face of the great muck reservoir in the middle of the yard, disturbing the repose of the great pigs. Here he was in safety, as no grown person could follow without getting over their knees ; and the luckless Charity, while her aunt scolded her from the dairy-door, for being " allus hankering about arter our Willum, instead of minding Master Tom," would descend from threats to coaxing, to lure Tom out of the muck, which was rising over his shoes and would soon tell a tale on his stockings, for which she would be sure to catch it from missus' maid. Tom had two abettors in the shape of a couple of old "boys, Noah and Benjamin by name, who defended him from Charity, and expended much time upon his edu- cation. They were both of them retired servants of former generations of the Browns. Noah Crooke was a keen dry old man of almost ninety, but still able to totter about. He talked to Tom quite as if he were one of his own family, and indeed had long completely identified the Browns with himself. In some remote age he had been the attendant of a Miss Brown, and had conveyed her about the country on a pillon. He had a little round picture of the identical gray horse, caparisoned with the identical pillon, before which he used to do a sort of fetish worship, and abuse turnpike- roads and carriages. He wore an old full-bottomed wig, the gift of some dandy old Brown whom he had valeted in the middle of last century, which habiliment Master Tom looked upon with considerable respect, not to say fear ; and indeed his whole feeling toward Noah was strongly tainted with awe ; and when the old gentleman was gathered to his fathers, Tom's lam- entation over him was not unaccompanied by a certain 24 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DATS. joy at having seen the last of the wig : " Poor old Noah, dead and gone," said he, " Tom Brown so sorry. Put him in the coffin, wig and all." But old Benjy was young master's real delight and refuge. He was a youth by the side of Noah, scarce seventy years old. A cheery, humorous, kind-hearted old man, full of sixty years of Vale gossip, and of all sorts of helpful ways for young and old, but above all for children. It was he who bent the first pin, with which Tom extracted his first stickleback out of " Pebbly Brook," the little stream which ran through the village. The first stickleback was a splendid fel- low, with fabulous red and blue gills. Tom kept him in a small basin till the day of his death, and became a fisherman from that day. Within a month from the taking of the first stickleback, Benjy had carried otf our hero to the canal, in defiance of Charity, and be- tween them, after a whole afternoon's popjoying they had caught three or four small coarse fish and a perch, averaging perhaps two and a half ounces each, which Tom bore home in rapture to his mother as a precious gift, and she received like a true mother with equal rapture, instructing the cook nevertheless, in a private interview, not to prepare the same for the squire's dinner. Charity had appealed against old Benjy in the meantime, representing the dangers of the canal banks ; but Mrs. Brown seeing the boy's inaptitude for female guidance, had decided in Benjy's favor, and from thenceforth the old man was Tom's dry nurse. And as they sat by the canal watching their little green and white float, Benjy would instruct him in the doings of deceased Browns. How his grand- father, in the early days of the great war, when there was much distress and crime in the Vale, and TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DATS. 25 the magistrates had been threatened by the mob, had ridden in with a big stick in his hand, and held the Petty Sessions by himself. How his great uncle, the rector, had encountered and laid the last ghost, who had frightened the old women, male and female, of the parish out of their senses, and who turned out to be the blacksmith's apprentice, disguised in drink and a white sheet. It was Benjy too who saddled Tom's first pony, and instructed him in the mysteries of horsemanship, teaching him to throw his weight back and keep his hand low ; and who stood chuckling outside the door of the girls' school, when Tom rode his little Shetland into the cottage and round the table where the old dame and her pupils were seated at their work. Benjy himself was come of a family distinguished in the vale for their prowess in all athletic games. Some half-dozen of his brothers and kinsmen had gone to the wars, of whom only one had survived to come home, with a small pension, and three bullets in different parts of his body ; he had shared Benjy's cottage till his death, and had left him. his old dragoon's sword and pistol, which hung over the mantel-piece, flanked by a pair of heavy single-sticks with which Benjy himself had won renown long ago as an old gamester, against the picked men of Wiltshire and Somersetshire, in many a good bout at the revels and pastime of the country- side. For he had been a famous back-sword man in his young days, and a good wrestler at elbow and collar. Back-swording and wrestling were the most serious holiday pursuits at the Yale, those by which men at- tained fame, and each village had its champion. I I suppose that on the whole, people were less worked 26 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. then than they are now ; at any rate, they seemed to have more time and energy for the old pastimes. The great times for back swording came round once a-year in each village, at the feast. The Yale " veasts " were not the common statute feasts, but much more ancient business. They are literally, so far as one can ascer- tain, feasts of the dedication, i. e., they were first estab- lished in the churchyard on the day on which the vil- lage church was opened for public worship, which was on the wake or festival of the patron saint, and have been held on the same day in every year since that time. There was no longer any remembrance of why the " veast" had been instituted, but nevertheless it had a pleasant and almost sacred character of its own. For it was then that all the children of the village, wherever they were scattered, tried to get home for a holiday to visit their fathers and mothers and friends, bringing with them their wages or some little gift from up the country for the old folk. Perhaps for a day or two before, but at any rate on " veast day " and the day after, in our village, you might see strap- ping healthy young men and women from all parts of the country going round from house to house in their best clothes, and finishing up with a call on Madam Brown, whom they would consult as to putting out their earnings to the best advantage or how to expend the same best for the benefit of the old folk. Every house- hold, however poor, managed to raise a " feast-cake " and bottle of ginger or raisin wine, which stood on the the cottage-table ready for all comers, and not unlikely to make them remember feast time, for feast-cake is very solid, and full of huge raisins. Moreover, feast- time was the day of reconciliation for the parish. If TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 7 Job Higgins and Noah Freeman hadn't spoken for the last six months, their " old women " would be sure to get it patched up by that day. And though there was a good deal of drinking and low vice in the booths of an evening, it was pretty well confined to those who would have been doing the like, " veast or no veast," and on the whole, the effect was humanizing and Chris- tian. In fact, the only reason why this is not the case still, is that gentle-folk and farmers have taken to other amusements, and have, as usual, forgotten the poor. They don't attend the feasts themselves, and call them disreputable whereupon the steadiest of the poor leave them also, and they become what they are called. Class amusements, be they for dukes or plow-boys, always become nuisances and curses to a country. The true charm of cricket and hunting is, that they are still more or less sociable and universal ; there's a place for every man who will come and take his part. No one in the village enjoyed the approach of " veast day " more than Tom, in the year in which he was taken under old Benjy's tutelage. The feast was held in a large green field at the lower end of the village. The road to Farringdon ran along one side of it, and the brook by the side of the road ; and above the brook was another large gentle sloping pas- ture-land, with a foot-path running down it from the churchyard ; and the old church, the originator of all the mirth, towered up with its gray walls and lancet windows, overlooking and sanctioning the whole, though its own share therein had been forgotten. At the point where the footpath crossed the brook and road, and entered on the field where the feast was held was a long low roadside inn, and on the opposite side of the field was a large white thatched farm-house, 28 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL BAYS. where dwelt an old sporting farmer, a great promoter of the revels. Past the old church, and down the footpath, pottered the old man and the child hand in hand early on the afternoon of the day before the feast, and wandered all round the ground, which was already being occupied by the " cheap Jacks," with their green covered carts and marvelous assortment of wares, and the booths of more legitimate small traders with their tempting ar- rays of fairings and eatables! and penny peep-shows and other shows, containing pink-eyed ladies, and dwarfs, and boa-constrictors, and wild Indians. But the object of most interest to Benjy, and of course to his pupil also, was the stage of rough planks some four feet high, which was being put up by the village car- penter for the baok-s\vording and wrestling ; and after surveying the whole tenderly, old Benjy led his charge away to the road-side inn, where he ordered a glass of ale and a long pipe for himself, and discussed these unwonted luxuries on the bench outside in the soft autumn evening with mine host, another old servant of the Browns, and speculated with him on the likeli- hood of a good show of old gamesters to contend for the morrow's prizes, and told tales of the gallant bouts of forty years back, to which Tom listened with all his ears and eyes. But who shall tell the joy of the next morning, when the church bells were ringing a merry peal, and old Benjy appeared in the servant's hall, resplendent in a long blue coat and brass buttons, and a pair of old yellow buckskins and top-boots, which he had cleaned for and inherited from Tom's grandfather ; a stout thorn-stick in his hand, and a nosegay of pinks and lavender in his button-hole, and led away Tom in his TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 29 best clothes, and two new shillings in his breeches- pockets ? Those two, at any rate, look like enjoying the day's revel. They quicken their pace when they get into the churchyard, for already they see the field thronged with country folk, the men in clean white smocks or velveteen or fustian coats, with rough plush waistcoats of many colors, and the women in the beautiful long scarlet cloak, the usual out-door dress of west-country women in those days, and which often descended in families from mother to daughter, or in new-fashioned stuff shawls, which, if they would but believe it, don't be- come them half so well. The air resounds with the pipe and tabor, and the drums and trumpets of the show- men shouting at the doors of their caravans, over which tremendous pictures of the wonders to be seen within hang temptingly ; while through all rises the shrill " root-too too-too " of Mr. Punch, and the unceas- ing pan-pipe of his satellite. " Lawk a' massey, Mr. Benjamin," cries a stout, motherly woman in a red cloak, as they enter the field, "be that you? "Well I never! you do look purely. And how's the squire, and madam, and the family?" Ben jy graciously shakes hands with the speaker, who has left our village for some years, but has come over for Veast-day on a visit to an old gossip, and gently indicates the heir-apparent of the Browns. " Bless his little heart ! I must gi' un a kiss. Here Susannah, Susannah !" cries she, raising herself from the embrace, " come and see Mr. Benjamin and young Master Tom. You minds our Sukey, Mr. Benjamin, she be growed a rare slip of a wench since you seen her, tho' her 1 !! be sixteen come Martinmas. I do aim to take her to see roaclaui to get her a 30 TOM BROWNE'S SCHOOL DAYS. And Sukey comes bouncing away from a knot of old school-fellows, and drops a courtsey to Mr. Benjamin. And elders come up from all parts to salute Ben jy, and girls who have been madam's pupils to kiss Master Tom. And they carry him off to load him with fair- ings ; and he returns to Benjy, his hat and coat cov- ered with ribbons, and his pockets crammed with won- derful boxes, which open upon ever new boxes and boxes, and popguns and trumpets, and apples, and gilt gingerbread from the stall of Angel Heavens, sole ven- dor thereof, whose booth groans with kings and queens, and elephants, and prancing steeds all gleaming with gold. There was more gold on Angel's cakes than there is ginger in those of this degenerate age. Skilled diggers might yet make a fortune in the church-yards of the Vale, by carefully washing the dust of the con- sumers of Angel's ginger-bread. Alas! he is with his namesakes, and his recipes have, I fear, died with him. And then they inspect the penny peep-show, at least Tom does, while old Benjy stands outside and gossips, and walks up the steps, and enters the mysterious doors of the pink-eyed lady, and the Irish giant, who do not by any means come up to their pictures ; and the boa will not swallow his rabbit, but there the rabbit is wait- ing to be swallowed, and what can you expect for tup- pence ? We are easily pleased in the Yale. Now there is a rush of the crowd, and a tinkling bell is heard, and shouts of laughter ; and Master Tom mounts on Ben jy's shoulders and beholds a jingling match in all its glory. The games are begun, and this is the opening of them. It is a quaint game, immensely amusing to look at, and as I don't know whether it is used in your counties, I had better describe it, A large roped ring TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL BAYS. 31 is made, into which are introduced a dozen or so of big boys and young men who mean to play ; these are carefully blinded and turned loose into the ring, and then a man is introduced not blindfolded, with a bell hung round his neck, and his two hands tied behind him. Of course every time he moves, the bell must ring, as he has no hand to held it, and so the dozen blindfolded men have to catch him. This they cannot always manage if he is a lively fellow, but half of them always rush into the arms of the other half, or drive their heads together, or tumble over; and then the crowd laughs vehemently, and invents nick- names for them on the spur of the moment, and they, if they be choleric, tear off the handkerchiefs which blind them, and not unfrequently pitch into one another, each thinking that the other must have run against him on purpose. It is great fun to look at a jingling-match certainly, and Tom shouts, and jumps on old Benjy's shoulders at the sight, until the old man feels weary, and shifts him to the strong young shoulders of the groom, who has just got down to the fun. And now, while they are climbing the pole in an- other part of the field, and muzzling in a flour-tub in another, the old farmer whose house, as has been said, overlooks the field, and who is master of the revels, gets up the steps on to the stage, and announces to all whom it may concern that a half-sovereign in money would be forthcoming for the old gamester who breaks most heads ; to which the squire and he have added a new hat. The amount of the prize is sufficient to stimulate the men of the immediate neighborhood, but not enough to bring any very high talent from a distance j so after a 32 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL i>Atg. glance or two round, a tall fellow, who is a clown shep- herd, chucks his hat on to the stage and climbs up the steps looking rather sheepish. The crowd of course first cheer, and then chaff as usual, as he picks up his hat and begins handling the sticks to see which will suit him. " Wooy, Willum Smith, thee cans't plaay wi' he arra daay," says his companion to the blacksmith's ap- prentice, a stout young fellow of nineteen or twenty. Willum's sweetheart is in the " veast " somewhere, and has strictly enjoined him not to get his head broke at back-swording, on pain of her highest displeasure ; but as she is not to be seen (the women pretend not to like to see the back-sword play, and keep away from the stage), and as his hat is decidedly getting old, he chucks it on to the stage, and follows himself, hoping that he will only have to break other people's heads, or that after all Rachel won't really mind. Then follows the greasy cap lined with fur of a half- gypsy, poaching, loafing fellow, who travels the Yale not for much good, I fancy : " Full twenty times was Peter feared For once that Peter was respected " in fact. And then three or four other hats, including the glossy castor of Joe Willis, the self-elected and would-be champion of the neighborhood, a well-to-do young butcher of twenty-eight or thereabouts, and a great strapping fellow, with his full allowance of blus- ter. This is a capital show of gamesters, considering the amount of the prize ; so while they are picking their sticks and drawing their lots, I think I must tell you, as shortly as I can, how the noble old game of back-sword is played ; for it is sadly gone out of late, TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 33 even in the Vale, and maybe you have never seen it. The weapon is a good stout ash-stick with a large basket handle, heavier, and somewhat shorter than a common single-stick. The players are called "old gamesters " why, I can't tell you and their object is simply to break one another's heads : for the moment that blood runs an inch anywhere above the eyebrow the old gamester to whom it belongs is beaten, and has to stop. A very slight blow with the sticks will fetch blood, so that it is by no means a punishing pastime, if the men don't play on purpose, and savagely, at the body and arms of their adversaries. The old gamester going into action only takes off his hat and coat, and arms himself with a stick : he then loops the fingers of his left hand in a handkerchief or strap which he fastens round his left leg, measuring the length, so that when he draws it tight with his left elbow in the air, that elbow shall just reach as high as his crown. Thus you see, so long as he chooses to keep his left elbow up, regardless of cuts, he has a perfect guard for the left side of his head. Then he advances his right hand above and in front of his head, holding his stick across so that its point projects an inch or two over his left elbow, and thus his whole head is completely guarded, and he faces his man armed in like manner, and they stand some three feet apart, often nearer, and feint, and strike, and return at one another's heads, until one cries " hold," or blood flows ; in the first case they are allowed a minute's time, and go on again ; in the latter, another pair of gamesters are called on. If good men are playing, the quickness of the returns is marvelous ; you hear the rattle like that a boy makes drawing his stick along palings, only heavier, and the closeness 34 foM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. of the men in action to one another gives it a strange interest and makes a spell at black-swording a very noble sight. They are all suited now with sticks, and Joe Willis and the gypsy man have drawn the first lot. So the rest lean against the rails of the stage, and Joe and the dark man meet in the middle, the boards having been strewed with sawdust ; Joe's white shirt and spotless drab breeches and boots contrasting with the gypsy's coarse blue shirt and dirty green velveteen breeches and leather gaiters. Joe is evidently turning up his nose at the other, and half insulted at having to break his head. The gypsy is a tough active fellow, but not very skillful with his weapon, so that Joe's weight and strength tell in a minute ; he is too heavy metal for him : whack, whack, whack, come his blows, breaking down the gypsy's guard, and threatening to reach his head every moment. There it is at last "Blood, blood!" shout the spectators, as a thin stream oozes out slowly from the roots of the hair, and the umpire calls to them to stop. The gypsy scowls at Joe under his brows in no pleasant manner, while master Joe swaggers about, and makes attitudes, and thinks him- self, and shows that he thinks himself, the greatest man in the field. Then follow several stout sets to between the other candidates for the new hat, and at last come the shep- herd and Willum Smith. This is the crack set-to of the day. They are both in famous wind, and there is no crying " hold ; " the shepherd is an old hand and up to all the dodges; he tries them one after another, and very nearly gets at Willum's head by coming in near, and playing over his guard at the half-stick, but TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 35 somehow W ilium blunders through, catching the stick on his shoulders, neck, sides, every now and then, any- where but on his head, and his returns are heavy and straight, and he is the youngest gamester and a favor- ite in the parish, and his gallant stand brings down shouts and cheers, and the knowing ones think he'll win if he keeps steady, and Tom on the groom's shoulder holds his hands together, and can hardly breathe for excitement. Alas for Willum ! his sweetheart getting tired of female companionship has been hunting the booths to see where he can have got to, and now catches sight of him on the stage in full combat. She flushes and turns pale ; her old aunt catches hold of her saying : " Bless' ee, child, doan't'ee go a'nigst it;" but she breaks away and runs toward the stage calling his name. Willum keeps up his guard stoutly, but glances for a moment toward the voice. No guard will do it, Willum, without the eye. The shepherd steps round and strikes, and the point of his stick just grazes Willum's forehead, fetching off the skin, and the blood flows, and the umpire cries "Hold," and poor Willum's chance is up for the day. But he takes it very well, and puts on his old hat and coat, and goes down to be scolded by his sweetheart, and led away out of mischief. Tom hears him say coaxingly, as he walks off : " Now doan't'ee, Rachel ! I wouldn't ha' done it, only I wanted summut to buy'ee a fairing wi', and I be as vlush o' money as a twod o' veathers." " Thee mind what I tells'ee," rejoins Rachel, saucily, " and doan't'ee kep blethering about fairings." Tom resolves in his heart to give Willum the remainder of his two shillings after the bacjs-s wording, ' * 1 / 36 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. Joe Willis has all the luck to-day. His next bout ends in an easy victory, while the shepherd has a tough job to break his second head ; and when Joe and the shepherd meet, and the whole circle expect and hope to see him get a broken crown, the shepherd slips in the first round and falls against the rails, hurting himself so that the old farmer will not let him go on, much as he wishes to try ; and that impostor Joe (for he is cer- tainly not the best man) struts and swaggers about the stage the conquering gamester, though he hasn't had five minutes really trying play. Joe takes the new hat in his hand, and puts the money inte it, and then as if a thought strikes him and he doesn't think his victory quite acknowledged clown below, walks to each face of the stage, and looks down, shaking the money, and chaffing, as how he'll stake hat and money and another half-sovereign " agin any gamester as hasn't played already." Cunning Joe, he thus gets rid of Willum and the shepherd, who is quite fresh again. No one seems to like the offer, and the umpire is just coming down, when a queer old hat, something like a doctor of divinity's shovel, is chucked on to the stage, and an elderly quiet man steps out, who has been watching the play, saying he should like to cross a stick wi' the prodigalish young chap. The crowd cheer and begin to chaff Joe, who turns up his nose and swaggers across to the sticks. "Imp'- dent old wosbird," says he, " I'll break the bald head on un to the truth." The old boy is very bald certainly, and the blood will show fast enough if you can touch him, Joe. He takes off his long flapped coat, and stands up in a long flapped waistcoat, which Sir Roger de Coverley TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL BAYS. 37 might have worn when it was new, picks out a stick, and is ready for Master Joe, who loses no time, but begins his old game, whack, whack, whack, trying to break down the old man's guard by sheer s.trength. But it won't do he catches every blow close by the basket, and though he is rather stiff in his returns, after a minute walks Joe about the stage, and is clearly a staunch old gamester. Joe now comes in, and making the most of his height, tries to get over the old man's guard at half-stick, by which he takes a smart blow in the ribs and another on the elbow and nothing more. And now he loses wind and begins to puff, and the crowd laugh : " Cry * hold,' Joe thee'st met thy match ! " Instead of taking good advice and getting his wind, Joe loses his temper, and strikes at the old man's body. "Blood, blood!" shout the crowd, "Joe's head's broke ! " Who'd have thought it ? How did it come ? That body-blow left Joe's head unguarded for a moment, and with one turn of the wrist the old gentleman has picked a neat little bit of skin off the middle of his forehead, and though he won't believe it, and hammers on for three more blows despite of the shouts, is then convinced by the blood trickling into his eye. Poor Joe is sadly crestfallen, and fumbles in his pocket for the other half-sovereign, but the old gamester won't have it. " Keep thy money, man, and gi's thy hand," says he, and they shake hands ; but the old gamester gives the new hat to the shepherd, and, soon after, the half-sovereign to Willum, who thereout decorates his sweetheart with ribbons to his heart's content. " Who can a be ? " " Wur do a come from ? " asked the crowd. And it soon flies about that the old west- 38 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. country champion, who played a tie with Shaw the life-guardsman at "Vizes" twenty years before, has broken Joe Willis' crown for him. How my country fair is spinning out ! I see I must skip the wrestling, and the boys jumping in sacks, and rolling wheelbarrows blindfolded: and the donkey- race, and the fight which arose thereout, marring the otherwise peaceful " veast," and the frightened scurry- ing away of the female feast-goers, and descent of Squire Brown, summoned by the wife of one of the combatants to stop it ; which he wouldn't start to do till he had got on his top-boots. Tom is carried away by old Benjy, dog-tired, and surfeited with pleasure, as the evening comes on and the dancing begins in the booths ; and though Willum and Rachel in her new ribbons and many another good lad and lass don't come away just yet, but have a good step out, and en- joy it, and get no harm thereby, yet we, being sober folk, will just stroll away up through the churchyard, and by the old yew-tree; and get a quiet dish of tea and a parle with our gossips, as the steady ones of our village do, and so to bed. That's the fair true sketch, as far as it goes, of one of the larger village feasts in the Vale of Berks, when I was a little boy. They are much altered for the worse, I am told. I haven't been at one these twenty years, but I have been at the statute fairs in some west-country towns, where servants are hired, and greater abominations cannot be found. What village feasts have come to, I fear, in many cases, may be read in the pages of " Yeast" (though I never saw one so bad thank God !). Do you want to know why ? It is because, as I said before, gentlefolk and farmers have left off joining or TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 39 taking an interest in them. They don't either sub- scribe to the prizes, or go down and enjoy the fun. Is this a good or a bad sign ? I hardly know. Bad, sure enough, if it only arises from the further separa- tion of classes consequent on twenty years of buying cheap and selling dear, and its accompanying over- work ; or because our sons and daughters have their hearts in London club-life, or so-called society, instead of in the old English home duties : because farmers' sons are apeing fine gentlemen, and farmers' daughters caring more to make bad foreign music than good English cheeses. Good, perhaps, if it be that the time for the old " veast " has gone by, that it is no longer the healthy sound expression of English country holiday-making ; that, in fact, we as a nation have got beyond it, and are in a transition state, feeling for and soon likely to find some better substitute. Only I have just got this to say before I quit the text. Don't let reformers of any sort think that they are going really to lay hold of the working boys and young men of England by any educational grapnel whatever, which hasn't some bond fide equivalent for the games of the old country " veast " in it ; some- thing to put in the place of the black-swording and wrestling and racing ; something to try the muscles of men's bodies, and the endurance of their hearts, and to make them rejoice in their strength. In all the new- fangled comprehensive plans which I see, this is all left out : and the consequence is that your great Me- chanics' Institutes end in intellectual priggism, and your Christian Young Men's Societies in religious Pharisaism. "Well, well, we must bide our time. Life isn't all beer and skittles but beer a.nd skittles, or something 40 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. better of the same sort, must form a good part of every Englishman's education. If I could only drive this into the heads of you rising parliamentary lords, and young swells who " have your ways made for you," as the saying is you, who frequent palaver houses and west-end clubs, waiting always ready to strap yourselves on to the back of poor dear old John, as soon as the present used-up lot (your fathers and uncles), who sit there on the great parliamentary- majorities' pack-saddle, and make belief they're guid- ing him with their red-tape bridle, tumble, or have to be lifted off ! I don't think much of you yet I wish I could ; though you do go talking, and lecturing up and down the country to crowded audiences, and are busy with all sorts of philanthropic intellectualism, and circulat- ing libraries and museums, and Heaven only knows what besides ; and try to make us think, through news- paper reports, that you are, even as we, of the work- ing classes. But, bless your hearts, we "ain't so green," though lots of us of all sorts toady you enough certainly, and try to make you think so. I'll tell you what to do now : instead of all this trumpeting and fuss, which is only the old parliamentary majority dodge over again just you go each of you (you've plenty of time for it, if you'll only give up t'other line), and quietly make three or four friends, real friends, among us. You'll find a little trouble in getting at the right sort, because such birds don't come lightly to your lure but found they may be. Take, say, two out of the professions, lawyer, parson, doctor which you will; one out of trade, and three or four out of the working classes tailors, engineers, carpen- ters, engravers there's plenty of choice. Let them be TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 41 men of your own ages, mind, and ask them to your homes ; introduce them to your wives and sisters, and get introduced to theirs ; give them good dinners, and talk to them about what is really at the bottom of your heart, and box, and run, and row with them, when you have a chance. Do all this honestly as man to man, and by the time you come to ride old John, you'll be able to do something more than sit on his back, and may feel his mouth with some stronger bridle than a red-tape one. Ah, if you only would ! But you have got too far out of the right rut, I fear. Too much over civilization and the deceitfulness of riches. It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle. More's the pity. I never came across but two of you, who could value a man wholly and solely for what was in him ; who thought themselves verily and indeed of the same flesh and blood as John Jones the attorney's clerk, and Bill Smith the costermonger and could act as if they thought so. TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. CHAPTER III. SUNDRY WARS AND ALLIANCES. POOR old Benjy, the " rheuraatiz " has much to an- swer for all through English country sides, but it never played a scurvier trick than in laying thee by the heels, when thou wast yet in a green old age. The enemy, which had long been carrying on a sort of border warfare and trying his strength against Benjy's on the battle-field, of his hands and legs, now, muster- ing all his forces began laying siege to the citadel, and overunning the whole country. Benjy was seized in the back and loins; and though he made strong and brave fight, it was soon clear enough that all which could be beaten of poor old Benjy would have to give in before long. It was as much as he could do now, with the help of his big stick and frequent stops, to hobble down to the canal with Master Tom, and bait his hook fo'r him, and sit and watch his angling, telling him quaint old coun- try stories ; and when Tom had no sport, and detect- ing a rat some hundred yards or so olf along the bank, would rush off with Toby the turnspit terrier, his other faithful companion, in bootless pursuit, he might have tumbled in and been drowned twenty times over before Benjy could have got near him. Cheery and unmindful of himself as Benjy was, this loss of locomotive power bothered him greatly. He TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DATS.* 43 had got a hew object in his old age, and was just be- ginning to think himself useful again in the world. He feared much too lest Master Tom should fall back again into the hands of Charity and the women. So he tried everything he could think of to get set up. He even went an expedition to the dwelling of one of those queer mortals, who say what we will, and reason how we will do cure simple people of diseases of one kind or another without the aid of physic ; and so get to themselves the reputation of using charms, and in- spire for themselves and their dwellings great respect, not to say fear, among a simple folk such as the dwellers in the Yale of White Horse. Where this pow- er, or whatever else it may be, descends upon the shoul- ders of a man whose ways are not straight, he becomes a nuisance to the neighborhood ; a receiver of stolen goods, giver of love potions, and deceiver of silly women ; the avowed enemy of law and order, of jus- tices of the peace, headboroughs and gamekeepers. Such a man in fact as was recently caught tripping, and deservedly dealt with by the Leeds justices, for seducing a girl who had come to him to get back a faithless lover, and has been convicted of bigamy since then. Sometimes, however, they are of quite a differ- ent stamp, men who pretend to nothing, and are with difficulty persuaded to exercise their occult arts in the simplest cases. Of this latter sort was old Farmer Ives, as he was called, the "wise man" to whom Benjy resorted (tak- ing Tom with him as usual), in the early spring of the year next after the feast described in the last chapter. Why he was called " farmer " I cannot say, unless it be that he was the owner of a cow, a pig or two, and some poultry, which he maintained on about an acre 44 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. of land inclosed from the middle of a wild common, on which probably his father had squatted before lords of manors looked as keenly after their rights as they do now. Here he had lived no one knew how long, a solitary man. It was often rumored that he was to be turned out and his cottage pulled down, but somehow it never came to pass; and his pigs and cow went graz- ing on the common, and his geese hissed at the pas- sing children and at the heels of the horse of my lord's steward, who often rode by with a covetous eye on the enclosure, still unmolested. His dwelling was some miles from our village ; so Benjy, who was half ashamed of his errand, and wholly unable to walk there, had to exercise much ingenuity to get the means of transporting himself and Tom thither without excit- ing suspicion. However, one fine May morning he managed to borrow the old blind pony of our friend the publican, and Tom persuaded Madam Brown to give him a holiday to spend with old Benjy, and to lend them the squire's light cart, stored with bread and cold meat and a bottle of ale. And so the two in high glee started behind old Dobbin, and jogged along the deep-rutted plashy roads, which had not been mended after their winter's wear, toward the dwelling of the wizard. About noon they passed the gate which opened on to the large common, and old Dobbin toiled slowly up the hill, while Benjy pointed out a little deep dingle on the left, out of which welled a tiny stream. As they crept up the hill the tops of a few birch-trees came in sight, and blue smoke curling up through their delicate light boughs ; and then the little white thatched home and patch of inclosed ground of Farmer Ives, lying cradled in the dingle, with 'the gay gorse common rising behind and on both sides ; while in front, after TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 45 traversing a gentle slope, the eye might travel for miles and miles over the rich vale. They now left the main road and struck into a green tract over the com- mon marked lightly with wheel and horse-shoe, which led down into the dingle and stopped at the rough gate of Farmer Ives. Here they found the farmer, an iron-gray old man, with a bushy eyebrow and strong acquiline nose, busied in one of his vocations. He was a horse and cow doctor, and was tending a sick beast which had been sent up to be cured. Benjy hailed him as an old friend, and he returned the greeting cordially enough, looking however hard for a moment both at Benjy and Tom, to see whether there was more in their visit than appeared at first sight. It was a work of some difficulty and danger for Benjy to reach the ground, which however he managed to do without mishap ; and then he devoted himself to un- harnessing Dobbin, and turning him out for a graze ("a run." one could not say of that virtuous steed) on the common. This done, he extricated the cold pro- visions from the cart, and they entered the farmer's wicket; and he, shutting up the knife with which he was taking maggots out of the cow's back and sides, accompanied them toward the cottage. A big old lurcher got up slowly from the door stone, stretching first one hind leg and then the other, and taking Tom's caresses and the presence of Toby, who kept however at a respectful distance, with equal indifference. "Us be come to pay'e a visit. I've a been long minded to do't for old sake's sake, only I vinds I dwont get about now as I'd use to't. I be so plaguy bad wi' th' rumatiz in my back." Benjy paused, in hopes of drawing the farmer at once on the subject of Jiis ailment without further direct application, 46 TOM BROWN S SCHOOL DAYS. "Ah, I see as you bean't quite so lissom as you was," replied the farmer with a grim smile, as he lifted the latch of his door ; " we bean't so young as we was, nother on us, wuss luck." The farmer's cottage was very like those of the bet- ter class of peasantry in general. A snug chimney cor- ner with two seats, and a small carpet on the hearth, an old flint gun and a pair of spurs over the fireplace, a dresser with shelves on which some bright pewter plates and crockery ware were arranged, an old walnut table, a few chairs and settles, some framed samplers, and an old print or two, and a bookcase with some dozen vol- umes on the walls, a rack with flitches of bacon, and other stores fastened to the ceiling, and you have the best part of the furniture. No sign of occult art is to be seen, unless the bundles of dried herbs hanging to the rack and in the ingle, and the row of labelled vials on one of the shelves, betoken it. Tom played about with some kittens who occupied the hearth, and with a goat who walked demurely in at the open door, while their host and Benjy spread the table for dinner and was soon engaged in conflict with the cold meat, to which he did much honor. The two old men's talk was of old comrades and their deeds, mute inglorious Miltons of the Vale, and of the doings thirty years back which didn't interest him much, except when they spoke of the making of the canal, and then indeed he began to listen with all his ears, and learned to his no small wonder that his dear and wonderful canal had not been there always was not in fact so old as Benjy or Farmer Ives, which caused a strange commotion in his small brain. After dinner Benjy called attention to a wart which TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS* 47 Tom had on the knuckles of his hand, and which the family doctor had been trying his skill on without suc- cess, and begged the farmer to charm it away. Farmer Ives looked at it, muttered something or another over it, and cut some notches in a short stick, which he handed to Benjy, giving him instructions for cutting it down on certain days, and cautioning Tom not to med- dle with the wart for a fortnight. And then they strolled out and sat on a bench in the sun with their pipes, and the pigs came up and grunted sociably and let Tom scratch them ; and the farmer, seeing how he liked animals, stood up and held his arms in the air and gave a call, which brought a flock of pig- eons wheeling and dashing through the birch-trees. They settled down in clusters on the farmer's arms and shoulders, making love to him and scrambling over one another's backs to get to his face ; and then he threw them all off, and they fluttered about close by, and lighted on him again and again when he held up his arms. All the creatures about the place were clean and fearless, quite unlike their relations else- where ; and Tom begged to be taught how to make all the pigs and cows and poultry in our village tame, at which the farmer only gave one of his grim chuckles. It wasn't till they was just ready to go, and old Dobbin was harnessed, that Benjy broached the sub- ject of his rheumatism again, detailing his symptoms one by one. Poor old boy ! He hoped the farmer could charm it away as easily as he could Tom's wart, and was ready with equal faith to put another notched stick into his other pocket, for the cure of his own ail- ments. The physician shook his head, but nevertheless produced a bottle and handed it to Benjy with instruc- 48 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL t>AYS. tions for use. " Not as 't'll do'e much good least- ways I be af eared not," shading his eyes with his hand and looking up at them in the cart ; " there's only one thing as I knows on, as'll cure old folks like you and I 'o th' rhumatis." "Wot be that then, farmer? " inquired Benjy. "Churchyard mold," said the old iron-gray man, with another chuckle. And so they said their good- byes and went their ways home. Tom's wart was gone in a fortnight, but not so Benjy's rheumatism, which laid him by the heels more and more. And though Tom still spent many an hour with him, as he sat on a bench in the sunshine, or by the chimney corner when it was cold, he soon had to seek elsewhere for his regular companions. Tom had been accustomed often to accompany his mother in her visits to the cottages, and had thereby made acquaintance with many of the village boys of his own age. There was Job Kudkin, son of widow Rudkin, the most bustling woman in the parish. How she could ever have had such a stolid boy as Job for a child must always remain a mystery. The tirst time Tom went to their cottage with his mother Job was not in doors, but he entered soon after, and stood with both hands in his pockets staring at Tom. Widow Eudkin who would have had to cross Madam to get at young Hopeful a breach of good manners of which she was wholly incapable began a series of pantomime signs, which only puzzled him, and at last, unable to contain herself longer, burst out with " Job ! Job ! where's thy cap \ " " What ! beant'e on ma' head, mother ? " replied Job, slowly extricating one hand from a pocket and feeling for the article in question ; which he found on his head TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 49 Sure enough, and left there, to his mother's horror and Tom's great delight. Then there was poor Jacob Dodson, the half-witted boy, who ambled about cheerfully, undertaking mes- sages and little helpful odds and ends for everyone, which, however, poor Jacob managed always hopelessly to embrangle. Everything came to pieces in his hands, and nothing would stop in his head. They nicknamed him Jacob Doodle-calf. But above all there was Harry Winburn, the quick- est and best boy in the parish. He might be a year older than Torn, but was very little bigger, and he was the Crichton of our village boys. He could wrestle and climb and run better than all the rest, and learned all that the schoolmaster could teach him faster than that worthy at all liked. He was a boy to be proud of, with his curly brown hair, keen gray e} r e, straight ac- tive figure, and little ears and hands and feet, " as fine as a lord's," as Charity remarked to Tom one day, talking as usual great nonsense. Lords' hands and ears and feet are just as ugly as other folks' when they are children, as any one may convince themselves if they like to look. Tight boots and gloves, and doing nothing with them, I allow make a difference by the time they are twenty. Now that Benjy was laid on the shelf, and his young brothers were still under petticoat government, Tom, in search of companions, began to cultivate the village boys generally, more and more. Squire Brown, be it said, was a true blue Tory to the backbone, and believed honestly that the powers which be were ordained of God, and that loyalty and steadfast obedi- ence were men's first duties. Whether it were in con- sequence or in spite of his political creed, I do not 50 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. mean to give an opinion, though I have one ; but cer- tain it is, that he held therewith divers social principles not generally supposed to be true blue in color. Fore- most of these, and the one which the squire loved to propound above all others, was the belief that a man is to be valued wholly and solely for that which he is in himself, for that which stands up in the four fleshly walls of him, apart from clothes, rank, fortune, and all externals whatsoever. Which belief I take to be a wholesome corrective of all political opinions, and, if held sincerely, to make all opinions equally harm- less, whether they be blue, red or green. As a neces- sary corollary to this belief, Squire Brown held fur- ther that it didn't matter a straw whether his son as- sociated with lords' sons or plowmen's sons, provided they were brave and honest. He himself had played football and gone bird's-nesting with the farmers whom he met at vestry and the laborers who tilled their fields, and so had his father and grandfather with their progenitors. So he encouraged Tom in his in- timacy with the boys of the village, and forwarded it by all means in his power, and gave them the run of a close for a playground, and provided bats and balls and a football for their sports. Our village was blessed among other things with a well-endowed school. The building stood by itself, apart from the master's house, on an angle of ground where three roads met ; an old gray stone building with a steep roof and mullioned windows. On one of the opposite angles stood Squire Brown's stables and kennel, with their backs to the road, over which tow- ered a great elm-tree ; on the third stood the village carpenter and wheelright's large open shop, and his house and the schoolmaster's, with long low eaves un- der which the swallows built by scores, TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 51 The moment Tom's lessons were over, he would now get him down to this corner by the stables, and watch till the boys came out of school. He prevailed on the groom to cut notches for him in the bark of the elm, so that he could climb into the lower branches, and there he would sit watching the school door, and spec- ulating on the possibility of turning the elm into a dwelling-place for himself and friends after the manner of the Swiss Family Robinson. But the school hours were long and Tom's patience short, so that soon he began to descend into the street, and go and peep in at the school door and the wheelwright's shop, and look out for something to while away the time. Now the wheelwright was a choleric man, and, one fine after- noon, returning from a short absence, found Tom occu- pied with one of his pet adzes, the edge of which was last vanishing under our hero's care. A speedy flight saved Tom from all but one sound cuff on the ears, but he resented this unjustifiable interruption of his first essays at carpentering, and still more the further pro- ceedings of the wheelwright, who cut a switch and hung it over the door of his workshop, threatening to use it upon Tom if he came within twenty yards of his gate. So Tom, to retaliate, commenced a war upon the swallows who dwelt under the wheelwright's eaves, whom he harassed with sticks and stones, and being fleeter of foot than his enemy, escaped all pun- ishment and kept him in perpetual anger. Moreover his presence about the school door began to incense the master, as the boys in that neighborhood neglected their lessons in consequence : and more than once he issued into the porch, rod in hand, just as Tom beat a hasty retreat. And he and the wheelwright, laying their beads together, resolved to acquaint the squire 52 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. with Tom's afternoon occupations ; but in order to do it with effect, determined to take him captive and lead him away to judgment fresh from his evil doings. This they would have found some difficulty in doing, had Tom continued the war single-handed, or rather single-footed, for he would have taken to the deepest part of Pebbly Brook to escape them ; but like other active powers, he was ruined by his alliances. Poor Jacob Doodle-calf could not go to school with the other boys, and one line afternoon, about three o'clock (the school broke up at four), Tom found him ambling about the street, and pressed him into a visit to the school porch. Jacob, always ready to do what he was asked, consented, and the two stole down to the school together. Tom first reconnoitered the wheelwright's shop, and seeing no signs of activity, thought all safe in that quarter, and ordered at once an advance of all his troops upon the school porch. The door of the school was ajar, and the boys seated on the nearest bench at once recognized and opened a correspondence with the invaders. Tom waxing bold, kept putting his head into the school and making faces at the mas- ter when his back was turned. Poor Jacob not in the least comprehending the situation, and in high glee at finding himself so near the school, which he had never been allowed to enter, suddenly, in a fit of enthusiasm, pushed by Tom, and ambling three steps into the school, stood there, looking round him and nodding with a self-approving smile. The master, who was stooping over a boy's slate, with his back to the door, became aware of something unusual, and turned quickly round. Tom rushed at Jacob, and began drag- ging him back by his smock-frock, and the master made at them, scattering forms and boys in lijs career, TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DATS. 53 Even now they might have escaped, but that in the porch, barring retreat, appeared the crafty wheel- wright, who had been watching all their proceedings. So they were seized, the school dismissed, and Tom and Jacob led away to Squire Brown as lawful prize, the boys following to the gate in groups, and specula- ting on the result. The squire was very angry at first, but the inter- view, by Tom's pleading, ended in a compromise. Tom was not to go near the school till three o'clock, and only then if he had done his own lessons well, in which case he was to be the bearer of a note to the master from Squire Brown, and the master agreed in such case to release ten or twelve of the best bo}'s an hour before the time of breaking up, to go off and play in the close. The wheelwright's adzes and swallows were to be forever respected ; and that hero and the master withdrew to the servants' hall, to drink the squire's health, well satisfied with their day's work. The second act of Tom's life may now be said to have begun. The war of independence had been over for some time : none of the women now, not even his mother's maid, dared offer to help him in dressing or washing. Between ourselves, he had often at first to run to Benjy in an unfinished state of toilet ; Charity and the rest of them seemed to take a delight in putting impossible buttons and ties in the middle of his back ; but he would have gone without nether in- teguments altogether sooner than had recourse to female valeting. He had a room to himself, and his father gave him sixpence a week pocket-money. All this he had achieved by Benjy's advice and assistance But now he had conquered another step in life, the 54 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. step which all real boys so long to make : he had got among his equals in age and strength, and could measure himself with other boys ; he lived with those whose pursuits and wishes and ways were the same in kind as his own. The little governess who had lately been installed in the house found her work grow wondrously easy, for Tom slaved at his lessons in order to make sure of his note to the schoolmaster. So there were very few days in the week in which Tom and the village boys were not playing in their close by three o'clock. Prisoner's base, rounders, high-cock-a-lorum, cricket, football, he was soon initiated into the delights of them all ; and though most of the boys were older than himself, he managed to hold his own very well. He was naturally active and strong, and quick of eye and hand, and had the advantage of light shoes and well-fitting dress, so that in a short time he could run and jump and climb with any of them. They generally finished their regular games half an hour or so before tea-time, and then began trials of skill and strength in many ways. Some of them would catch the Shetland pony who was turned out in the field, and get two or three together on his back, and the little rogue, enjoying the fun, would gallop off for fifty yards, and then turn round, or stop short and shoot them on to the turf, and then graze quietly on till he felt another load ; others played peg-top or marbles, while a few of the bigger ones stood up for a bout at wrestling. Tom at first only looked on at this pastime, but it had peculiar attractions for him, and he could not long keep out of it. Elbow and collar wrestling as practised in the western counties was next to back-swording, the way to fame for the youth TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 55 of the Vale : and all the boys knew the rules of it, and were more or less expert. But JobRudkin and Harry Winburn were the stars, the former stiff and sturdy, with legs like small towers, the latter pliant as india- rubber, and quick as lightning. Day after day they stood foot to foot, and offered first one hand and then the other, and grappled and closed and swayed and strained, till a well-aimed crook of the heel or thrust of the loin took effect, and a fair back-fall ended the matter. And Tom watched with all his eyes, and first challenged one of the less scientific, and threw him ; and so one by one wrestled his way up to the leaders. Then indeed for months he had a poor time of it : it was not long indeed before he could manage to keep his legs against Job, for that hero was slow of offense, and gained his victories chiefly by allowing others to throw themselves against his immovable legs and loins. But Harry Winburn was undeniably his master ; from the first clutch of hands when they stood up, down to the last trip which sent him on his back on the turf, he felt that Harry knew more and could do more than he. Luckily, Harry's bright uncon- sciousness, and Tom's natural good temper, kept them from ever quarreling ; and so Tom worked on and on, and trod more and more nearly on Harry's heels, and at last mastered all the dodges and falls except one. This one was Harry's own particular invention and pet ; he scarcely ever used it except when hard pressed, but then out it came, and as sure as it did, over went poor Tom. He thought about that fall at his meals, in his walks, when he lay awake in bed, in his dreams but all to no purpose ; until Harry one day in his open way suggested to him how he thought it should 56 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. be met, and in a week from that time the boys were equal, save only the slight difference of strength in Harry's favor which some extra ten months of age gave. Tom had often afterward reason to be thankful for that early drilling, and above all for having mas- tered Harry Winburn's fall. Besides their home games, on Saturdays the boys would wander all over the neighborhood ; sometimes to the downs, or up to the camp, where they cut their initials out in the springy turf, and watched the hawks soaring, and the " peert " bird, as Harry Winburn called the gray plover, gorgeous in his wedding feath- ers ; and so home, racing down the Manger with many a roll among the thistles, or through Uffington-wood to watch the fox cubs playing in the green rides; sometimes to Rosy Brook, to cut long whispering reeds which grew there, to make pan-pipes of ; sometimes to Moor Mills where was a piece of old forest land, with short browsed turf and tufted brambly thickets stretching under the oaks, among which rumor de- clared that a raven, last of his race, still lingered ; or to the sand-hills, in vain quest of rabbits ; and bird's- nesting, in the season, anywhere and everywhere. The few neighbors of the squire's own rank every now and then would shrug their shoulders as they drove or rode by a party of boys with Tom in the middle, carrying along bulrushes or whispering reeds, or great bundles of cowslip and meadow-sweet, or young starlings or magpies, or other spoil of wood, brook, or meadow ; and Lawyer Red-tape might mut- ter to Squire Straightback at the Board, that no good would come of the young Browns, if they were let run wild with all the dirty village bo\s, whom the best farmer's sons even would not play with. And the TOM BBOWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 57 squire might reply with a shake of his head, that his sons only mixed with their equals, and never went into the village without the governess or a footman. But, luckily, Squire Brown was full as stiff-backed as his neighbors, and so went on his own way ; and Tom and his younger brothers, as they grew up, went on play- ing with the village boys, without the idea of equality or inequality (except in wrestling, running, and climb- ing) ever entering their heads, as it doesn't till it's put there by Jack Nastys or fine ladies' maids. I don't mean to say it would be the case in all vil- lages, but it certainly was so in this one ; the village boys were full as manly and honest, and certainly purer, than those in a higher rank; and Tom got more harm from his equals in his first fortnight at a private school, where he went when he was nine years old, than he had from his village friends from the day he left Charity's apron-strings. Great was the grief among the village school boys when Tom drove off with the squire, one August morning, to meet the coach on his way to school. Each of them had given him some little present of the best that he had, and his small private box was full of peg- tops, white marbles (called " alley-taws " in the Vale), screws, birds' eggs, whip-cord, Jew's harps, and other miscellaneous boys' wealth. Poor Jacob Doodle-calf, in floods of tears, had pressed upon him with splutter- ing earnestness his lame pet hedgehog (he had always some poor broken-down beast or bird by him) ; but this Tom had been obliged to refuse by the squire's order. He had given them all a great tea under the big elm in their playground, for which Madam Brown had supplied the biggest cake ever seen in our village ; and Tom was really as sorry to leave them as they to 58 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. lose him, but his sorrow was not unmixed with the pride and excitement of making a new step in life. And this feeling carried him through his first part- ing with his mother better than could have been ex- pected. Their love was as fair and whole as human love can be, perfect self-sacrifice on the one side, meeting a young and true heart on the other. It is not within the scope of my book, however, to speak of family relations, or I should have much to say on the subject of English mothers ay, and of English fathers, and sisters, and brothers, too. Neither have I room to speak of our private schools : what I have to say is about public schools, those much- abused and much-belauded institutions peculiar to Eng- land. So we must hurry through Master Tom's year at a private school as fast as we can. It was a fair average specimen, kept by a gentleman, with another gentleman as second master ; but it was little enough of the real work they did merely coin- ing into school when lessons were prepared and all ready to be heard. The whole discipline of the school out of lesson hours was in the hands of the two ushers, one of whom was always with the boys in their play- ground, in the school, at meals in fact, at all times and everywhere, till they were fairly in bed at night. Now the theory of private schools is (or was) con- stant supervision out of school : therein differing fun- damentally from that of public schools. It may be right or wrong ; but if right, this super- vision surety ought to be the especial work of the head-master, the responsible person. The object of all schools is not to ram Latin and Greek into boys, but to make them good English boys, good future citizens ; and by far the most important part of that work must TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 5d be done, or not done, out. of school hours. To leave it, therefore, in the hands of inferior men, is just giving up the highest and hardest part of the work of educa- tion. Were I a private schoolmaster, I should say, let who will hear the boys at their lessons, but let me live with them when they are at play and rest. The two ushers at Tom's first school were not gen- tlemen, and very poorly educated, and were only driv- ing their poor trade of usher to get such living as they could out of it. They were not bad men, but had lit- tle heart for their work, and cf course were bent on making it as easy as possible. One of the methods by which they endeavored to accomplish this, was by en- couraging tale-bearing, which had become a frightfully common vice in the school in consequence, and had sapped all the foundations of school morality. Another was, by favoring grossly the biggest boys, who alone could have given them much trouble; whereby those young gentlemen became most abominable tyrants, oppressing the little boys in all the small mean ways which prevail in private schools. Poor little Tom was made dreadfully unhappy in his first week, by a catastrophe which happened to his first letter home. With huge labor he had, on the very evening of his arrival, managed to fill two sides of a sheet of letter-paper with assurances of his love for dear mamma, his happiness at school, and his resolves to do all she would wish. This missive, with the help of the boy who sat at the desk next him, also a new arrival, he managed to fold successfully ; but this done the} 7 were sadly put to it for means of sealing. En- velopes were then unknown, they had no wax, and dared not disturb the stillness of the evening school- room by getting up and going to ask the usher for some, 60 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. At length Tom's friend, being of an ingenius turn of mind, suggested sealing with ink, and the letter was accordingly stuck down with a blob of ink, and duly handed by Tom, on his way to bed, to the housekeeper to be posted. It was not till four days afterward, that that good dame sent for him, and produced the precious letter, and some wax, saying, " Oh, Master Brown, I forgot to tell you before, but your letter isn't sealed," Poor Tom took the wax in silence and sealed his letter, with a huge lump rising in his throat during the pro- cess, and then ran away to a quiet corner of the play- ground and burst into an agony of tears. The idea of his mother waiting day after day for the letter he had promised her at once, and perhaps thinking him for- getful of her, when he had done all in his power to make good his promise, was as bitter a grief as any which he had to undergo for many a long year. His wrath then was proportionately violent when he was aware of two boys, who stopped close by him, and one of whom, a fat gaby of a fellow, pointed at him, and called him " Young mammy-sick!" Whereupon Tom arose, and giving vent thus to his grief and shame and rage, smote his derider on the nose, and made it bleed which sent that young worthy howling to the usher, who reported Tom for violent and unprovoked assault and battery. Hitting in the face was a felony punishable with flogging, other hitting only a misde- meanor a distinction not altogether clear in principle. Tom however escaped the penalty by pleading "primum tempus\" and having written a second letter to his mother, inclosing some forget-me-nots, which he picked on their first half-holiday walk, felt quite happy again, and began to enjoy vastly a good deal of his new life. TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 61 These half-holiday walks were the great events of the week. The whole fifty boys started after dinner with, one of the ushers for Hazeldown, which was distant swne mile or so from the school. Hazledown measured some three miles round, and in the neighborhood were several woods full of all manner of birds and butterflies. The usher walked slowly round the down with such boys as liked to accompany him ; the rest scattered in all directions, being only bound to appear again when the usher had completed his round, and accompany him home. They were forbidden, however, to go any where except on the down and into the woods, the village being especially prohibited, where huge bulls'-eyes and unctuous toffy might be procured in exchange for coin of the realm. Various were the amusements to which the boys then betook themselves. At the entrance of the down there was a steep hillock, like the barrows of Tom's own downs. This mound was the weekly scene of terrific combats, at a game called by the queer name of " mud-patties." The boys who played divided into sides under different leaders, and one side occupied the mound. Then, all parties having provided themselves with many sods of turf, cut with their bread-and-cheese knives, the side which remained at the bottom pro- ceeded to assault the mound, advancing upon all sides under cover of a heavy fire of turfs, and then strug- gling for victory with the occupants, which was theirs as soon as they could, even for a moment, clear the summit, when they in turn became the besieged. It was a good rough dirty game, and of great use in counteracting the sneaking tendencies of the school. Then others of the boys spread over the downs, look- ing for the koles of kuuible-bees anil mice, which 62 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. they dug up without mercy, often (I regret to say) killing and skinning the unlucky mice, and (I do not regret to say) getting well stung by the humble- bees. Others went after butterflies and birds'-eggs in their seasons; and Tom found on Ilazeldown, for the first time, the beautiful little blue butterfly with golden spots on his wings, which he had never seen on his own downs, and dug out his first sand-mar- tin's nest. This latter achievement resulted in a flog- ging, for the sand-martins built in a high bank close to the village, consequently out of bounds ; but one of the bolder spirits of the school, who never could be happy unless he was doing something to which risk attached, easily persuaded Tom to break bounds and visit the martin's bank. From whence it being only a step to the toffy-shop, what could be more simple than to go on there and fill their pockets ; or what more certain than that on their return, a distribution of treasure having been made, the usher should shortly detect the forbidden smell of bulls'-eyes, and, a search ensuing, discover the state of the breeches-pockets of Tom and his ally? This ally of Tom's was indeed a desperate hero in the sight of the boys, and feared as one who dealt in magic, or something approaching thereto. Which reputation came to him in this wise. The boys went to bed at eight, and of course consequently lay awake in the dark for an hour or two, telling ghost-stories by turns. One night when it came to his turn, and he had dried up their souls by his story, he suddenly declared that he would make a fiery hand appear on the door ; and to the astonishment and terror of the boys in his room, a hand, or something like it, in pale light, did then and there appear. The fame of this TOM BROWN*S SCHOOL DAYS. 63 exploit having spread to the other rooms, and being discredited there, the young necromancer declared that the same wonder would appear in all the rooms in turn, which it accordingly did ; and the whole circumstances having been privately reported to one of the ushers as usual, that functionary, after listening about at the doors of the rooms, by a sudden descent caught the performer in his night-shirt, with a box of phosphorus in his guilty hand. Lucifer-matches and all the pres- ent facilities for getting acquainted with fire were then unknown ; the very name of phosphorus had something diabolic in it to the boy-mind ; so Tom's ally, at the cost of a sound flogging, earned what many older folk covet much the very decided fear of most of his companions. He was a remarkable boy, and by no means a bad one. Tom stuck to him till he left, and got into many scrapes by so doing. But he was the great opponent of the tale-bearing habits of the school, and the open enemy of the ushers; and so worthy of all support. Tom imbibed a fair amount of Latin and Greek at the school, but somehow on the whole it didn't suit him, or he it, and in the holidays he was constantly working the squire to send him at once to a public school. Great was his joy then$ when in the middle of his third half-year, in October, 183-, a fever broke out in the village, and the master having himself slightly sickened of it, the whole of the boys were sent off at a day's notice to their respective homes. The squire was not quite so pleased as Master Tom to see that young gentleman's brown merry face ap- pear at home, some two months before the proper time, for Christmas holidays : and so after putting 64 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. on his thinking cap, he retired to his study and wrote several letters ; the result of which was that one morning at the breakfast-table, about a fortnight after Tom's return, he addressed his wife with " My dear, I have arranged that Tom shall go to Rugby at once, for the last six weeks of this half-year, instead of wasting them riding and loitering about home. It is very kind of the doctor to allow it. Will you see that his things are all ready by Friday, when I shall take him up to town, and send him down the next day by himself." Mrs. Brown was prepared for the announcement, and merely suggested a doubt whether Tom were yet old enough to travel by himself. However, finding both father and son against her on this point, she gave in like a wise woman, and proceeded to prepare Tom's kit for his launch into a public school. 65 CHAPTEK IV. " Lettlie steam-pot biss till it's hot, Give rne tLe speed of the Tantivy trot." Coaching Song by It. E. E. Warburton, Esq. "Now, SIR, time to get up, if you please. Tally-ho coach for Leicester '11 be round in half an hour, and don't wait for nobody." So spake the Boots of the Peacock Inn, Islington, at half-past two o'clock on the morning of a day in the early part of November, 183-, giving Tom at the same time a shake by the shoulder, and then putting down a candle and carry- ing off his shoes to clean. Tom and his father had arrived in town from Berk- shire the day before, and finding, on inquiry, that the Birmingham coaches which ran from the city did not pass through Rugby, but deposited their passengers at Dunchurch, a village three miles distant on the main road where said passengers had to wait for the Oxford and Leicester coach in the evening, or to take a post- chaise had resolved that Tom should travel down by the tally-ho, which diverged from the main road and passed through Rugby itself. And as the tally-ho was an early coach, they had driven out to the Peacock to be on the road. Tom had never been in London, and would have liked to have stopped at the Belle Sauvage, where they had been put down by the Star, just at dusk, that he 66 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAY& might have gone roving about those endless, myste- rious, gas-lit streets, which, with their glare and hum and moving crowds, excited him. so that he couldn't talk even. But as soon as he found that the Peacock arrangement would get him to Rugby by twelve o'clock in the day, whereas otherwise he wouldn't be there till the evening, all other plans melted away ; his one absorbing aim being to become a public schoolboy as fast as possible, and six hours sooner or later seem- ing to him of the most alarming importance. Tom and his father had alighted at the Peacock at about seven in the evening, and having heard with un- feigned joy the paternal order at the bar, of steaks and oyster sauce for supper in half an hour, and seen his father seated cozily by the bright fire in the coffee- room with the paper in his hand Tom had run out to see about him, had wondered at all the vehicles pass- ing and repassing, and had fraternized with the boots and ostler, from whom he ascertained that the Tally- ho was a tip-top goer, ten miles an hour including stop- pages, and so punctual that all the road set their clocks by her. Then being summoned to supper he had regaled himself in one of the bright little boxes of the Peacock coffee-room on the beef-steak and unlimited oyster- sauce and brown stout (tasted then for the first time a day to be marked forever by Tom with a white stone) ; had at first attended to the excellent advice which his father was bestowing on him from over his glass of steaming brandy and water, and then begun nodding from the united effects of the stout, the fire, and the lecture. Till the squire observing Tom's state, and remembering that it w r as nearly nine o'clock, and that the tally-ho left at three, sent the little fellow oft TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 67 to the chambermaid, with a shake of the hand (Tom having stipulated in the morning before starting, that kissing should now cease between them), and a few parting words. "And now, Tom, my boy," said the squire, "remem- ber you are going, at your own earnest request, to be chucked into this great school, like a young bear with all your troubles before you earlier than we should have sent you perhaps. If schools are what they were in my time, you'll see a great many cruel blackguard things done, and hear a deal of foul bad talk. But never fear. You tell the truth, keep a brave and kind heart, and never listen to or say anything you wouldn't have your mother and sister hear, and you'll never feel ashamed to come home, or we to see you." The allusion to his mother made Tom feel rather chokey, and he would have liked to have hugged his father well, if it hadn't been for the recent stipula- tion. As it was, he only squeezed his father's hand, and looked bravely up and said : " I'll try father." " I know you will, my boy. Is your money all safe?" " Yes," said Tom, diving into one pocket to make sure. " And your keys ? " said the squire. "All right," said Tom, diving into the other pocket. " Well then, good night. God bless you ! I'll tell Boots to call you, and be up to see you off." Tom was carried off by the chambermaid in a brown study, from which he was roused in a clean little attic by that buxom person calling him a little darling, and kissing him as she left the room, which indignity ha 68 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. was too much surprised to resent. And still thinking of his father's last words, and the look with which they were spoken, he knelt down and prayed, that come what might, he might never bring shame or sorrow on the O * O tj dear folk at home. Indeed, the squire's last words deserved to have their effect, for they had been the result of much anxious thought. All the way up to London he had pondered what he should say to Tom by way of parting advice, something that the boy could keep in his head ready for use. By way of assisting meditation, he had even gone the length of taking out his flint and steel and tinder, and hammering away for a quarter of an hour till he had manufactured a light for a long Trichin- opoli cheroot, which he silently puffed ; to the no small wonder of Coachee, who was an old friend, and an institution on the Bath road ; and who always ex- pected a talk on the prospects and doings, agricultural and social, of the whole country when he carried the squire. To condense the squire's meditation, it was some- what as follows : "I won't tell him to read his Bible and love and serve God ; if he don't do that for his mother's sake and teaching, he won't for mine. Shall I go into the sort of temptations he'll meet with ? No, I can't do that. Never do for an old fellow to go into such things with a boy. He won't understand me. Do him more harm than good, ten to one. Shall I tell him to mind his work, and say he's sent to school to make himself a good scholar? Well, but he isn't sent to school for that at any rate, not for that mainly. I don't care a straw for Greek particles, or the digamma no more does his mother. What is he sent to school for ? Well, partly because he wanted so to go. If TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 69 he'll only turn out a brave, helpful, truth-telling Eng- lishman, and a gentleman, and a Christian, that's all I want," thought the squire ; and upon this view of the case framed his last words of advice to Tom, which were well enough suited to his purpose. For they were Tom's first thoughts as he tumbled out of bed at the summons of Boots, and proceeded rapidly to wash and dress himself. At ten minutes to three he was down in the coffee room in his stockings, carrying his hat-box, coat, and comforter in his hand ; and there he found his father nursing a bright fire and a cup of hot ooffee and a hard buscuit on the table. "Now then, Tom, give us your things here, and drink this ; there's nothing like starting warm, old fel- low." Tom addressed himself to the coffee, and prattled away while he worked himself into his shoes and his great-coat, well warmed through ; a Petersham coat with velvet collar, made tight, after the abominable fashion of those days. And just as he is swallowing his last mouthful, winding his comforter round his throat, and tucking the ends into the breast of his coat the horn sounds, Boots looks in and says, " Tally-ho, sir ;" and they hear the ring and rattle of the four fast trotters and the town-made drag, as it dashes up to the Peacock. " Anything for us, Bob ? " says the burly guard, dropping down from behind, and slapping himself across the chest. "Young genl'm'n, Rugby; three parcels, Leicester; hamper o' game, Rugby," answers ostler. " Tell young gent to look alive," says guard, open- ing the hind-boot and shooting in the parcels, after ex- tO TOM BROWN S SCHOOL DAYS. amining them by the lamps. " Here, shove the port- manteau up a-top I'll fasten him presently. Now then, sir, jump up behind." "Good-bye, father my love at home." A last shake of the hand. Up goes Tom, the guard catching his hat-box and holding on with one hand, while with the other he claps the horn to his mouth. Toot, toot } toot! the ostlers let go their heads, the four bays plunge at the collar, and away goes the tally-ho into the darkness, forty-five seconds from the time they pulled up ; ostler, Boots, and the squire stand looking after them under the Peacock lamp. "Sharp work!" says the squire, and goes in again to his bed, the coach being well out of sight and hearing. Tom stands up on the coach and looks back at his father's figure as long as he- can see it, and then the guard having disposed of his luggage comes to an an- chor, and finishes the buttonings and other prepara- tions for facing the three hours before dawn ; no joke for those who minded cold, on a fast coach in Novem- ber, in the reign of his late majesty. I sometimes think that you boys of this generation are a deal tenderer fellows than we used to be. At any rate, you're much more comfortable travelers, for I see every one of you with his rug or plaid, and other dodges for preserving the caloric, and most of you going in those fuzzy, dusty, padded first-class carriages. It was another affair altogether, a dark ride on the top of the tally-ho, I can tell you, in a tight Petersham coat, and your feet dangling six inches from the floor. Then you knew what cold was, and what it was to be without legs, for not a bit of feeling had you in them after the first half-hour. But it had its pleasures, the TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 71 old dark ride. First there was the consciousness of silent endurance, so dear to every Englishman of standing out against something, and not giving in. Then there was the music of the rattling harness, and the ring of the horses' feet on the hard road, and the glare of the two bright lamps through the steam- ing hoar frost, over the leaders' ears, into the darkness ; and the cheery toot of the guard's horn, to warn some drowsy pikeman or the ostler at the next change ; and the looking forward to daylight and last, but not least, the delight of returning sensation in your toes. Then the break of dawn and the sunrise ; where can they be ever seen in perfection but from a coach roof ? You want motion and change and music to see them in their glory; not the music of singing men and sing- ing women, but good silent music; which sets itself in your own head the accompaniment of work and getting over the ground. The tally-ho is past St. Alban's, and Tom is enjoy- ing the ride, though half frozen. The guard, who is alone with him on the back of the coach, is silent, but has muffled Tom's feet up in straw, and put the end of an oak-sack over his knees. The darkness has driven him inwards, and he has gone over his little past life, and thought of all his doings and promises, and of his mother and sister, and his father's last words; and has made fifty good resolutions, and means to bear himself like a brave Brown as he is, though a young one. Then he has been forward into the mysterious boy- future, speculating as to what sort of a place Rugby is, and what they do there, and calling up all the stories of public schools which he has heard from big boys ill 72 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. the holidays. He is chock full of hope and life, not- withstanding the cold, and kicks his heels against the backboard, and would like to sing, only he doesn't know how his friend the silent guard might take it. And now the dawn breaks at the end of the fourth stage, and the coach pulls up at a little road-side inn with huge stables behind. There is a bright fire gleam- ing through the red curtains of the bar-window, and the door is open. The coachman catches his whip into a double thong, and throws it to the ostler ; the steam of the horses rises straight up into the air. He has put them along over the last two miles, and is two minutes before his time ; he rolls down from the box and into the inn. The guard rolls off behind. "Now, sir," says he to Tom. "you just jump down, and I'll give you a drop of something to keep the cold out." Tom finds a difficulty in jumping, or indeed in find- ing the top of the wheel with his feet, which may be in the next world for all he feels ; so the guard picks him off the coach-top, and sets him on his legs, and they stump off into the bar, and join the coachman and the other outside passengers. Here a fresh-looking barmaid serves them each with a glass of early purl as they stand before the fire, coachman and guard exchanging business remarks. The purl warms the cockles of Tom's heart, and makes him cough. " Rare tackle, that, sir, of a cold morning," says the coachman, smiling. " Time's up." They are out again and up ; coachee the last, gathering the reins into his hands and talking to Jem the ostler about the mare's shoulder, and then swinging himself up on to the box the horses dashing off in a canter before he falls into his seat. Toot-toot-toodle-too goes the horn, and away TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 73 they are again, five-and-thirty miles on their road (nearly half way to Rugby, thinks Tom), and the pros- pect of breakfast at the end of the stage. And now they begin to see, and the early life of the country-side comes out ; a market cart or two, men in smock-frocks going to their work pipe in mouth, a whiff of which is no bad smell this bright morning. The sun gets up, and the mist shines like silver gauze. They pass the hounds jogging along to a distant meet, at the heels of the huntsman's hack, whose face is ^bout the color of the tails of his old pink, as he ex- changes greetings with coachman and guard. Now they pull up at a lodge, and take on board a well- muffled-up sportsman, with his gun-case and carpet- bag. An early up-coach meets them, and the coach- men gather up their horses, and pass one another with the accustomed lift of the elbow, each team doing eleven miles an hour, with a mile to spare behind if necessary. And here comes breakfast. " Twenty minutes here, gentleman," says the coach- man as they pull up at half past-seven at the inn door. Have we not endured nobly this morning, and is not this a worthy reward for much endurance ? There is the low dark wainscoted room hung with sporting prints ; the hat-stand (with a whip or two standing up in it belonging to bagmen who are still snug in bed) by the door ; the blazing fire, with the quaint old glass over the mantel-piece, in which is stuck a large card with the list of the meets for the week of the county hounds. The table covered with the whitest of cloths and of china, and bearing a pigeon-pie, ham, round of cold boiled beef cut from a mammoth ox, and the great loaf of household bread on a wooden trencher. And here comes in the stout head waiter, puffing under 74 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DATS. a tray of hot viands ; kidneys and steak, transparent rashers and poached eggs, buttered toast and muffins, coffee and tea, all smoking hot. The table can never hold it all ; the cold meats are removed to the side- board, they were only put on for show and to give us an appetite. And now fall on, gentlemen all. It is a well-known sporting-house, and the breakfasts are fa- mous. Two or three men in pink, on their way to the meet, drop in, and are very jovial and sharp-set, as in- deed we all are. " Tea or coffee, sir ? " says head waiter, coming round to Tom. " Coffee please," says Tom, with his mouth full of muffin and kidney ; coffee is a treat to him, tea is not. Our coachman, I perceive, who breakfasts with us, is a cold-beef man. He also eschews hot potations, and addicts himself to a tankard of ale, which is brought him by the barmaid. Sportsman looks on approv- ingly, and orders a ditto for himself. Tom has eaten kidney and pigeon-pie, and imbibed coffee, till his little skin is as tight as a drum ; and then has the further pleasure of paying head waiter out of his own purse, in a dignified manner, and walks out before the inn door to see the horses put to. This is done leisurely and in a highly -finished manner by the ostlers, as if they enjoyed the not being hurried. Coachman comes out with his way-bill, and puff- ing a fat cigar which the sportsman has given him. Guard emerges from the tap, where he prefers breakfasting, licking round a tough-looking doubt- ful cheroot, which you might tie round your finger, and three whiffs of which would knock any one else put of time, TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. ^5 The pinks stand about the inn door lighting cigars and waiting to see us start, while their hacks are led up and down the market-place on which the inn looks. They all know our sportsman, and we feel a reflected credit when we see him chatting and laughing with them. " Now, sir, please," says the coachman ; all the rest of the passengers are up ; the guard is locking the hind boot. " A good run to you ! " says the sportsman to the pinks, and is by the coachman's side in no time. " Let 'em go, Dick ! " The ostlers fly back, draw- ing off the cloths from their glossy loins, and away we go through the market-place and down the High street, looking in at the first-floor windows, and seeing several worthy burgesses shaving thereat ; while all the shop-boys who are cleaning the windows, and housemaids who are doing the steps, stop and look pleased as we rattle past, as if we were a part of their legitimate morning's amusement. We clear the town, and are well out between the hedegrows again as the town clock strikes eight. The sun shines almost warmly, and breakfast has oiled all springs and loosened all tongues. Tom is en- couraged by a remark or two of the guard's between the puffs of his oily cheroot, and besides is getting tired of not talking ; he is too full of his destination to talk about anything else ; and so asks the guard if he knows Rugby. " Goes through it every day of my life. Twenty minutes afore twelve down ten o'clock up." " What sort of a place is it, please ? " says Tom. Guard looks at him with a comical expression. "Werry out-o'-the- way place, sir; no paving to the 76 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. streets nor no lighting. 'Mazing big horse and cattle fair in autumn lasts a week just over now. Takes town a week to get clean after it. Fairish hunting country. But slow place, sir, slow place : off the main road, you see only three coaches a day, and one on 'em a two-oss wan, more like a hearse nor a coach Regulator comes from Oxford. Young genl'm'n at school calls her Pig and Whistle, and goes up to col- lege by her (six miles an hour) when they goes to enter. Belong to school, sir ? " "Yes," says Tom, not unwilling for a moment that the guard should think him an old boy. But then having some qualms as to the truth of the assertion and seeing that if he were to assume the character of an old boy he couldn't go on asking the questions he wanted, added " that is to say, I'm on my way there. I'm a new boy." The guard looked as if he knew this quite as well as Tom. " You're werry late, sir," says the guard ; " only six weeks to-day to the end of the half." Tom assented. "We takes up fine loads this day six weeks, and Mon- day and Tuesday arter. Hopes we shall have the pleasure of carrying you back." Tom said he hoped they would ; but he thought within himself that his fate would probably be the Pig and Whistle. "It pays uncommon, cert'nly," continues the guard. "Werry free with their cash is the young genl'm'n. But, Lor' bless you, we gets into such rows all 'long the road, whatwi' their pea-shooters, and long whips, and hollering, and upsetting every one as comes by; I'd a sight sooner carry one or two on 'em, sir, as I may be a carry in' of you now, than a coach-load." TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 77 " What do they do with the pea-shooters ? " inquires Tom. " Do wi' 'em ! why peppers every one's faces as we comes near, 'cept the young gals, and breaks windows wi' them too, some on 'em shoots so hard. Now 'twas just here last June, as we was a driving up the first- day boys, they was mendin' a quarter mile of road, and there was a lot of Irish chaps, reg'lar roughs, a breaking stones. As we comes up, ' Now, boys,' says young gent on the box (smart young fellow and desper't reckless), 'here's fun ! Let the Pats have it about the ears.' ' God's sake, sir ! ' says Bob (that's my mate the coachman), ' don't go for to shoot at 'em, they'll knock us off the coach.' * Damme, coachee,' says young my lord, 'you ain't afraid; hoora, boys! let 'em have it.' * Hoora ! ' sings out the others, and fill their mouths chock full of peas to last the whole line. Bob seeing as 'twas to come, knocks his hat over his eyes, hollers to his 'osses, and shakes 'em up, and away we goes up to the line on 'em, twenty miles an hour. The Pats begin to hoora too, thinking it was a runaway, the first lot on 'em stands grinnin' and wavin' their old hats as we comes abreast on 'em ; and then you'd ha' laughed to see how took aback and choking savage they looked when they gets the peas a stinging all over 'em. But bless you, the laugh weren't all of our side, sir, by a long way. "We was going so fast, and they was so took aback, that they didn't take what was up till we was half-way up the line. Then 'twas ' look out all,' surely. They howls all down the line fit to frighten you, some on 'em runs arter us and tries to clamber up behind, only we hits 'em over the fingers and pulls their hands off, one as bad had it very sharp act'ly runs right at the 78 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. leaders, as though he'd ketch 'em by the heads, only luck'ly for him he misses his tip> and comes over a heap o' stones, first. The rest picks up stones, and gives it us right away till we gets out o' shot, the young gents holding out werry manful with the pea- shooters and such stones as lodged on us, and a pretty many there was, too. Then Bob picks hisself up again, and looks at young gent on box werry solemn. Bob'd had a rum un in the ribs, which'd like to ha' knocked him off the box or made him drop the reins. Young gent on box picks hisself up, and so does we all, and looks round to count damage. Box's head cut open and his hat gone ; 'nother young gent's hat gone : mine knocked in at the side, and not one on us as wasn't black and blue somewheres or another ; most on 'em all over. Two-pounds-ten to pay for dam- age to paint, which they subscribed for there and then, and give Bob and me a extry half sovereign each; but I wouldn't go down that line again, not for twenty half-soveriegns." And the guard shook his head slowly, and got up and ble\v a clear brisk toot- toot. " "What fun ! " said Tom, who could scarcely contain his pride at this exploit of his future schoolfellows. He longed already for the end of the half, that he might join them. " 'Taint such good fun though, sir, for the folk as meets the coach, nor for we who has to go back with it next day. Them Irishers last summer had all got stones ready for us, and was all but letting drive, and we'd got two reverend gents aboard too. We pulled up at the beginning of the line, and pacified them and were never going to carry no more pea-shooters, unless they promised not to fire where there's a line TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. tO of Irish chaps a stone-breaking." The guard stopped and pulled away at his cheroot, regarding Tom be- nignantly the while. " Oh, don't stop ! tell us something more about the pea-shooting." " Well, there'd like to have been a pretty piece of work over it at Bicester, a while back. We was six mile from the town, when we meets an old square- headed gray-haired yoeman chap, a jogging along quite quiet. He looks up at the coach, and just then a pea hits him on the nose, and some ketches his cob behind and makes him dance up on his hind legs. I see'd the old boy's face flush and look plaguy awk- ward, and I thought we was in for somethin' nasty. " He turns his cob's head, and rides quietly after us just out of shot. How that ere cob did step ! we never shook him off not a dozen yards in the six mile. At first the young gents was werry lively on him ; but afore we got in, seeing how steady the old chap come on, they was quite quiet, and laid their heads together what they should do. Some was for fighting, some for axing his pardon. He rides into the town close after us, comes up when we stops, and says the two as shot at him must come before a magistrate ; and a great crowd comes round, and we couldn't get the 'osses to. But the young uns, they all stand by one another, and says all or none must go, and as how the'd fight it out, and have to be carried. Just as 'twas gettin' serious, and the old boy and the mob was goin' to pull 'em off the coach, one little fellow jumps up and says, f Here I'll stay I'm only going three miles further. My father's name's Davis ; he's known about here, and I'll go before the magistrate with this gentleman.' 1 What, be thee Parson Davis' son ? ' says the old boy. 80 TOM BROWN^ SCHOOL DAYS. ' Yes,' says the young un. ' Well, I be mortal sorry to meet thee in such company, but for thy father's sake and thine (for thee bi'st a brave young chap) I'll say no more about it.' Didn't the boys cheer him, and the mob cheered the young chap and then one of the biggest gets down, and begs his pardon werry gen- tlemanly for all the rest, saying as they had all been, plaguy vexed from the first, but didn't like to ax his pardon till then, 'cause they felt they hadn't ought to shirk the consequences of their joke. And then they all got down and shook hands with the old boy, and asked him to all parts of the country, to their homes; and we drives off twenty minutes behind time, with cheering and hollering as if we was county members. But, Lor' bless you, sir," says the guard, smacking his hand down on his knee and looking full into Tom's face, "ten minutes arter they was all as bad as ever." Tom showed such undisguised and open-mouthed interest in his narrations, that the old guard rubbed up his memory, and launched out into a graphic history of all the performances of the boys on the road for the last twenty years. Off the road he couldn't go ; the exploit must have been connected with horses or vehicles to han in the old fellow's head. Tom tried D him off his own ground once or twice, but found he knew nothing beyond, and so let him have his head, and the rest of thy road bowled easily away ; for old Blow-hard (as the boys called him) was a dry old file, with much kindness and humor, and a capital spinner of a yarn when he had broken the neck of his day's work and got plenty of ale under his belt. What struck Tom's youthful imagination most was the desperate and lawless character of most of the TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 81 stories. Was the guard hoaxing him ? He couldn't help hoping that they were true. It's very odd how almost all English boys love danger ; you can get ten. to join a game, or climb a tree, or swim a stream, when there's a chance of breaking their limbs or get- ting drowned, for one who'll stay on level ground, or in his depth, or play quoits or bowls. The guard had just finished an account of a desper- ate fight which had happened at one of the fairs between the drovers and the farmers with their whips, and the boys with cricket-bats and wickets, which arose out of a playful but objectionable practice of the boys going round to the public-houses and taking the linen-pins out of the wheels of the gigs, and was mor- alizing upon the way in which the doctor, "a terrible stern man he'd heard tell," had come down upon several of the performers, " sending three on 'em off next morn- ing, each in a po-chay with a parish constable," when they turned a corner and neared the milestone, the third from Rugby. By the stone two boys stood, their jackets buttoned tight, waiting for the coach. "Look here, sir," says the guard, after giving a sharp toot-toot, " there's two on 'em ; out and out run- ners they be. They come out about twice or three times a week, and spirts a mile alongside of us." And as they came up, sure enough, away went two boys along the footpath, keeping up with the horses ; the first, a light, clean-made fellow, going on springs, the other stout and round-shouldered, laboring in his pace, but going as dogged as a bull-terrier. Old Blow-hard looked on admiringly. "See how beautiful that there un holds hisself together, and goes from his hips, sir," said he; "he's a 'mazin' fine run- ner, Now, many coachmen as drives a first-rate 82 TOM BROWN S SCHOOL DATS. team'd put it on and try and pass 'em. But Bob, sir, bless you, he's tender-hearted ; he'd sooner pull in a bit if he see'd 'em a gettin' beat. I do b'lieve, too, as that there un'd sooner break his heart than let us go by him afore next milestone." At the second milestone the boys pulled up short and waved their hats to the guard, who had his watch out and shouted "4.56," thereby indicating that the mile had been done in four seconds under the five minutes. They passed several more parties of boys, all of them objects of the deepest interest to Tom, and came in sight of the town at ten minutes before twelve. Tom fetched a long breath, and thought he had never spent a pleasanter day. Before he went to bed he had quite settled that it must be the greatest day that he should ever spend, and didn't alter his opinion for many a long year if he has yet. TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 83 CHAPTER V. RUGBY AND FOOTBALL. ' ' Foot and eye opposed In dubious strife." SCOTT. " AND so here's Rugby, sir, at last, and you'll be in plenty of time for dinner at the school-house, as I tell'd you," said the old guard, pulling his horn out of its case, and tootle-tooing away ; while the coachman shook up his horses, and carried them along the side of the school close, round Dead-man's Corner, past the school gates, and down the High street to the Spread Eagle ; the wheelers in a spanking trot, and leaders cantering, in a style which would not have disgraced " Cherry Bob," " ramping, stamping, tearing, swearing Billy Harwood," or any other of the old coaching heroes. Tom's heart beat quick as he passed the great school field or close, with its noble elms, in which sev- eral games of football were going on, and tried to take in at once the long line of gray buildings, begin- ning with the chapel, and ending with the school-house, the residence of the head-master, where the great flag was lazily waving from the highest round tower. And he began already to be proud at being a Rugby boy, as he passed the school-gates, with the oriel-win- dow above, and saw the boys standing there, looking as if the town belonged to them, and nodding in a 84 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. familiar manner to the coachman, as if any one 01 them would be quite equal to getting on the box and working the team down street as well as he. One of the young heroes, however, ran out from the rest, and scrambled up behind ; where, having righted himself and nodded to the guard with " How do, Jem ?" he turned short round to Tom, and, after looking him over for a minute, began : " I say, you fellow, is your name Brown ? " " Yes," said Tom, in considerable astonishment ; glad however to have lighted on some one already who seemed to know him. " Ah, I thought so ; you know my old aunt, Miss East ; she lives somewhere down your way in Berkshire. She wrote to me that you were coming to-day, and asked me to give you a lift." Tom was somewhat inclined to resent the patroniz- ing air of his new friend a boy of just about his own height and age, but gifted with the most transcendent coolness and assurance, which Tom felt to be aggravat- ing and hard to bear, but couldn't for the life of him help admiring and envying especially when young my lord begins hectoring two or three long loafing fellows, half-porter, half stableman, with a strong touch of the black-guadr, and in the end ar ranges with one of them, nicknamed Cooey, to carry Tom's luggage up to the school-house for six- pence. " And heai k'ee, Cooey, it must be up in ten minutes or no more jobs from me. Come along, Brown." And away swaggers the young potentate, with his hands in his pockets, and Tom at his side. " All right, sir," saj 7 s Cooey, touching his hat, with a leer and a wink at bis companions, TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 85 "Hullo, though," says East, pulling up and taking another look at Tom, " this'll never do haven't you got a hat? we never wear caps here. Only the louts wear caps. Bless you, if you were to go into the quadrangle with that thing on, I don't know what'd happen." The very idea was quite beyond the young Master East, and he looked unutterable things. Tom thought his cap a very knowing affair, but con- fessed that he had a hat in his hat box ; which was accordingly at once extracted from the hind boot, and Tom equipped in his go-to-meeting roof, as his new friend called it. But this don't quite suit his fastidious taste in another minute, being too shiny ; so, as they walk up the town, they dive into Nixon's the hatter's and Tom is arrayed, to his utter astonishment, and without paying for it, in a regulation cat-skin at seven-and-sixpence ; Nixon undertaking to send the best hat up to the matron's room, school-house, in half an hour. " You can send in a note for a tile on Monday, and make it all right, you know," said Mentor ; " we're allowed two seven-and-sixers a half, besides what we bring from home." Tom by this time began to be conscious of his new social position and dignities, and to luxuriate in the realized ambition of being a public-school boy at last, with a vested right of spoiling two seven-and-sixers in half a year. " You see," said his friend, as they strolled up to- ward the school-gates, in explanation of his conduct "a great deal depends on how a fellow cuts up at first. If he's got nothing odd about him, and answers straight- forward and holds his head up, he gets on. Now you'll 86 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. do very well as to rig, all but that cap. You see I'm doing the handsome thing by you, because my father knows yours ; besides, I want to please the old lady. She gave me half-a-sov. this half, and perhaps'll double it next, if I keep in her good books." There's nothing for candor like a lower-school boy ; and East was a genuine specimen frank, hearty, and good-natured, well satisfied with himself and his posi- tion, and chock full of life and spirits, and all the Rugby prejudices and traditions which he had been able to get together, in the long course of one half year, during which he had been at the school-house. And Tom, notwithstanding his bumptiousness, felt friends with him at once, and began sucking in all his ways and prejudices, as fast as he could under- stand them. East was great in the character of cicerone ; he carried Tom through the great gates where were only two or three boys. These satisfied themselves with the stock questions " You fellow, what's your name ? "Where do you come from? How old are you ? Wttere do you board ? and, What form are you in ? " and so they passed on through the quadrangle and a small courtyard, upon which looked down a lot of little win- dows (belonging, as his guide informed him, to some of the school-house-studies), into the matron's room, where East introduced Tom to that dignitary ; made him give up the key of his trunk that the matron might unpack his linen, and told the story of the hat and of his own presence of mind ; upon the relation whereof the matron laughingly scolded him, for the the coolest new boy in the house ; and East, indignant at the accusation of newness, marched Tom off into the quadrangle, and began showing him the schools, TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 87 and examining him as to his literary attainments; the result of which was a prophecy that they would be in the same form, and could do their lessons together. " And now come in and see my study ; we shall have just time before dinner ; and afterward, before calling over, we'll do the close." Tom followed his guide through the school-house hall, which opens into the quadrangle. It is a great room thirty feet long and eighteen high, or there- about, with two great tables running the whole length, and two large fireplaces at the side, with blaz- ing fires in them at one of which some dozen boys were standing and lounging, some of whom shouted to East to stop ; but he shot through with his convoy, and landed him in the long dark passages, with a large fire at the end of each upon which the studies opened. Into one of these, in the bottom passage, East bolted with our hero, slamming and bolting the., door behind them, in case of pursuit from the hall, and Tom was for the first time in a Rugby boy's citadel. He hadn't been prepared for separate studies, and was not a little astonished and delighted with the palace in question. It wasn't very large certainly, being about six feet long by four broad. It couldn't be called light, as there were bars and a grating to the window ; which little precautions were necessary in the studies on the ground floor looking out into the close, to prevent the exit of small boys after locking-up, and the entrance of contraband articles. But it was uncommonly com- fortable to look at, Tom thought. The space under the window at the further end was occupied by u, 88 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. square table covered with a reasonably clean and whole red and blue check tablecloth ; a hard-seated sofa covered with red stuff occupied one side, running up to the end, and making a seat for one, or, by sitting close, for two, at the table ; and a good stout wooden chair afforded a seat to another boy, so that three could sit and work together. The walls were wainscoted half-way up, the wainscot being covered with green baize, the remainder with a bright patterned paper, on which hung three or four prints, of dogs' heads, Grimaldi winning the Aylesbury steeple-chase, Amy Robsart, the reigning Waverley beauty of the day, and Tom Crib in a pos- ture of defense, which did no credit to the science of that hero, if truly represented. Over the door were a row of hat-pegs, and on each side book-cases with cup- boards at the bottom ; shelves and cupboards being filled indiscriminately with school-books, a cup or two, a mousetrap, and brass candlesticks, leathern straps, a fustain bag, and some curious-looking articles, which puzzled Tom not a little, until his friend explained that they were climbing irons, and showed their use. A cricket- bat and small fishing-rod stood up in one corner. This was the residence of East and another boy in the same form, and had more interest for Tom than Wind- sor Castle, or any other residence in the British Isles. For was he not about to become the joint owner of a similar home, the first place which he could call his own ? One's own ! What a charm there is in the words ! How long it takes boy and man to find out their worth ! how fast most of us hold on to them ! faster and more jealously the nearer we are to that general home into which we can take nothing, but TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 89 must go naked as we came into the world. When shall we learn that he who multiplieth possessions mul- tiplieth troubles, and that the one single use of things which we call our own is that they may be his who hath need of them ? " And shall I have a study like this too ? " said Tom. " Yes, of course, you'll be chummed with some fellow on Monday, and you can sit here till then." " What nice places." "They're well enough, "answered East patronizingly "only uncommon cold at nights sometimes. Gower that's my chum and I make a fire with paper on the floor after supper generally, only that makes it so smoky." "But there's a big fire out in the passage," said Tom. " Precious little good we get out of that, though," said East ; " Jones the praepostor has the study at the fire end, and he has rigged up an iron rod and green baize curtain across the passage, which he draws at night, and sits there with his door open, so he gets all the fire, and hears if we come out of our studies after eight, or make a noise. However, he's taken to sitting in the fifth- form room lately, so we do get a bit of fire now sometimes ; only to keep a sharp look-out that he don't catch you behind his curtain when he comes down that's all." A quarter-past one now struck, and the bell began tolling for dinner, so they went into the hall and took their places, Tom at the very bottom of the second table, next to the praeposter (who sat the end to keep order there), and East a few paces higher. And now TOW for the first time saw his future schoolfellows in 90 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. a body. In they came, some hot and ruddy from foot- ball or long walks, some pale and chilly from hard reading in their studies, some from loitering over the fire at the pastrycook's, dainty mortals, bringing withi them pickles and sauce-bottles to help them with their dinners. And a great big bearded-man, whom Tom took for a master, began calling over the names, while the great joints were being rapidly carved on a third table in the corner by the old verger and the house- keeper. Tom's turn came last, and meanwhile he was all eyes, looking first with awe at the great man who sat close to him, and was helped first, and who read a hard-looking book all the time he was eating; and when he got up and walked off to the fire, at the small boys round him, some of whom were reading, and the rest talking in whispers to one another, or stealing one another's bread, or shooting pellets, or digging their forks through the tablecloth. However, notwith- standing his curiosity, he managed to make a capital dinner by the time the big man called "Stand up! " and said grace. As soon as dinner was over, and Tom had been questioned by such of his neighbors as were curious as to his birth, parentage, education, and other like mat- ters, East, who evidently enjoyed his new dignity of patron and mentor, proposed having a look at the close, which, Tom, athirst for knowledge, gladly as- sented to, and they went out through the quadrangle and past the big fives' -court, into the great play- ground. " That's the chapel, you see," said East, " and there just behind it is the place for fights ; you see it's most out of the way of the masters, who all live on the other side and don't come by here after first lesson or TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 1 callings-over. That's when the fights come off. And all this part where we are is the little side-ground, right up to the trees, and on the other side of the trees is the big side-ground, where the matches are played. And there's the island in the furthest corner ; you'll know that well enough next half, when there's island fag- ging. I say, it's horrid cold, lets have a run across," and away went East, Tom close behind him. East was evidently putting his best foot foremost, and Tom, who was mighty proud of his running, and not a little anxious to show his friend that although a new boy he was no milksop, laid himself down to the work in his very best style. Right across the close they went, each doing all he knew, and there wasn't a yard be- tween them when they pulled up at the island moat. " I say," said East, as soon as he got his wind, looking with much increased respect at Tom, "you ain't a a bad scud, not by no means. Well, I'm as warm as a toast now." " But why do you wear white trousers in Novem- ber ? " said Tom. He had been struck by this peculi- arity in the costume of almost all the school-house boys. "Why, bless us, don't you know? No, I forgot. Why, to-day's the school-house match. Our house plays the whole of the school at football. And we all wear white trousers, to show 'em. we don't care for hacks. You're in luck to come to-day. You just will see a match ; and Brook's going to let me play in quar- ters. That's more than he'll do for any other lower- school boy, except James, and he's fourteen." " Who's Brooke ? " " Why that big fellow who called over at dinner, to be sure. He's cock of the school, and head of the 92 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. school-house side, and the best kick and charger in Rugby." "Oh, but do show me where they play ? And tell me about it. I love football so, and have played all my life. Won't Brooke let me play ? " "Not he," said East, with some indignation ; "why, you don't know the rules you'll be a month learning them. And then it's no joke playing-up in a match, I call tell you. Quite another thing from your private school games. Why, there's been two collar-bones broken this half, and a dozen fellows lamed. And last year a fellow had his leg broken." Tom listened with the profoundest respect to this chap- ter of accidents, and followed East across the level ground till they came to a sort of gigantic gallows of two poles eighteen feet high, fixed upright in the ground some fourteen feet apart, with a cross bar run- ning from one to the other at the height of ten feet or thereabouts. " This is one of the goals," said East, " and you see the other acnoss there, right opposite, under the doc- tor's wall. Well, the match is for the best of three goals ; whichever side kicks two goals wins : and it won't do, you see, just to kick the ball through these posts, it must go over the cross bar ; any height '11 do, so long as its between the posts. You'll have to stay in goal to touch the ball when it rolls behind the posts, because if the other side touch it they have a try at goal. Then we fellows in quarters, we play just about in front of goal here, and have to turn the ball and kick it back before the big fellows on the other side can follow it up. And in front of us all the big fellows play, and that's where the scrummages .are mostly." Tom's respect increased as he struggled to make TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 93 out his friend's technicalities, and the other set to work to explain the mysteries of " off your side," " drop-kicks," " punts," " places," and the other intri- cacies of the great science of football. " But ho\v do you keep the ball between the goals?" said he. " I can't see why it mightn't go right down to the chapel." " Why, that's out of play," answered East. " You see this gravel walk running down all along this side of the pi ay ing-ground, and the line of elms opposite on the other ? Well, they're the bounds. As soon as the ball gets past them, it's in touch, and out of play. And then whoever first touches it, has to knock it straight out among the players-up, who make two lines with a space between them, every fellow going on his own side. Ain't there just fine scrummages then! and the three trees you see there which come out into the play, that's a tremendous place when the ball hangs there, for you get thrown against the trees, and that's worse than any hack." Tom wondered within himself as they strolled back again toward the fives' court, whether the matches were really such break-neck affairs as East represented, and whether, if they were, he should ever get to like them and play-up well. He hadn't long to wonder, however, for next minute East cried out, "Hurra! here's the punt-about come along and try your hand at a kick." The punt-about is the practice ball, which is just brought out and kicked about anyhow from one boy to another before callings-over and dinner, and at other odd times. They joined the boys who had brought it out, all small school-house fellows, friends of East; and Tom had the pleasure of trying his skill, and performed very 94 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. creditably, after first driving his foot three inches into the ground, and then nearly kicking his leg into the air, in vigorous efforts to accomplish a drop-kick after the manner of East. Presently more boys and bigger came out, and boys from other houses on their way to calling-over, and more balls were sent for. The crowd thickened as three o'clock approached ; and when the hour struck, one hundred and fifty boys were hard at work. Then the balls were held, the master of the week came down in cap and gown to calling-over, and the whole school of three hundred bo^s swept into the big school to answer to their names. "I may come in, mayn't I?" said Tom, catching East by the arm and longing to feel one of them. " Yes, come along, nobody'll say anything. You won't be so eager to get into calling-over after a month," replied his friend ; and they marched into the big school together, and up to the further end, where that illus- trious form, the lower fourth, which had the honor of East's patronage for the time being, stood. The master mounted into the high desk by the door, and one of the praepostors of the week stood by him on the steps, the other three inarching up and down the middle of the school with their canes, calling out " Silence, silence ! " The sixth form stood close by the door on the left, some thirty in number, mostly great big grown men, as Tom thought, surveying them from a distance with awe. The fifth form behind them twice their number and not quite so big. These on the left ; and on the right the lower fifth, shell, and all the junior forms in order ; while up the middle marched the three prreposters. Then the praepostor who stands by the master calls TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DATS. 05 out the names, beginning with the sixth form, and as he calls, each boy answers " Here " to his name, and walks out. Some of the sixth stop at the door to turn the whole string of boys into the close ; it is a great match day, and every boy in the school, will-he, nill- he, must be there. The rest of the sixth go forward into the close, to see that no one escapes by any of the side gates. To-day, however, being the school-house match, none of the school house praepostors stay by the door to watch for truants of their side ; there is carteUanclie to the school-house fags to go where they like : " They trust to our honor," as East proudly informs Tom; " they know very well that no school-house boy would cut the match. If he did, we'd very soon cut him, I can tell you." The master of the week being short-sighted, and the praepostors of the week small and not well up to their work, the lower school-boys employ the ten minutes which elapse before their names are called, in pelting one another vigorously with acorns, which fly about in all directions. The small prapostors dash in every now and then, and generally chastise some quiet, timid boy who is equally afraid of acorns and canes, while the principle performers get dexterously out of the way ; and so calling over rolls on somehow, much like the big world, punishments lighting on wrong shoul- ders, and matters going generally in a queer, cross- grained-way, but the end coming somehow, which is after all the great point. And now the master of the week has finished, and locked up the big school ; and the praepostors of the week come out, sweeping the last remnant of the school fags who had been loafing about the corners by the fives' court in 96 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. hopes of a chance of bolting before them into the close. " Hold the punt-about ! " " To the goals ! " are the cries, and all stray balls are impounded by the autho- rities ; and the whole mass of boys moves up toward the two goals, dividing as they go into three bodies. That little band on the left, consisting of from fifteen to twenty boys, Tom among them, who are making for the goal under the school-house wall, are the school- house boys who are not to play-up, and have to stay in goal. The larger body moving to the island goal, are the school-boys in a like predicament. The great mass in the middle are the players-up, both sides mingled to- gether ; they are hanging their jackets, and, all who mean real work, their hats, waistcoats, neck-handker- chiefs, and braces, on the railings round the small trees ; and there they go by twos and threes up to their respective grounds. There is none of the color and tastiness of get-up, you will perceive, which lends such a life to the present game at Rugby, making the dullest and worst-fought match a pretty sight. Now each hguse has its own uniform of cap and jersey, of some lively color : but at the time we are speaking of, plush caps have not yet come in or uniforms of any sort, except the school-house white trousers, which are abominably cold to-day : let us get to work, bare- headed and girded with our plain leather straps but we mean business, gentlemen. And now that the two sides have fairly sundered, and each occupies its own ground, and we get a good look at them, what absurdity is this ? You don't mean to say that those fifty or sixty boys in white trousers, many of them quite small, are going to play that huge mass opposite ? Indeed I do, gentlemen ; they're going TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. Q? to try at any rate, and won't make such a bad fight of it either, mark my word ; for hasn't old Brooke won the toss, with his lucky halfpenny, and got choice of goals and kick-off ? The new ball you may see lie there quite by itself, in the middle, pointing toward the school or island goal ; in another minute it will be well on its way there. Use that minute in remarking how the school-house side is drilled. You will see in the first place, that the sixth-form boy, who has the charge of goal, has spread his force (the goal-keepers) so as to occupy the whole space behind the goal-posts, at distances of about five yards apart ; a safe and well- kept goal is the foundation of all good play. Old Brooke is talking to the captain of quarters ; and now he moves away ; see how that youngster spreads his men (the light brigade) carefully over the ground, half-way between their own goal and the body of their own players-up (the heavy brigade). These again play in several bodies ; there is young Brooke and the bull- dogs mark them well they are " the fighting bri- gade," the " die-hards," larking about at leap-frog to keep themselves warm, and playing tricks on one another. And on each side of old Brooke, who is now standing in the middle of the ground and just going to kick off, you see a separate wing of players-up, each with a boy of acknowledged prowess to look to here Warner, and there Hedge ; but over all is old Brooke, absolute as he of Kussia, but wisely and bravely rul- ing over willing and worshiping subjects, a true foot- ball king. His face is earnest and careful as he glances a last time over his array, but full of pluck and hope, the sort of look I hope to see in my general when I go out to fight. The school side is not organized in the same way. 98 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS, The goal-keepers are all in lumps, anyhow and nohow ; you can't distinguish between the players-up and the boys in quarters, and there is divided leadership ; but with such odds in strength and weight it must take more than that to hinder them from winning : and so their leaders seem to think, for they let the players-up manage themselves. But now look, there is a slight move forward of the school-house wings ; a shout of " Are you ready ? " and loud affirmative reply. Old Brooke takes half a dozen quick steps, and away goes the ball spinning toward the school goal ; seventy yards before it touches ground, and at no point above twelve or fifteen feet high, a model kick-off ; and the school-house cheer and rush on ; the ball is returned, and they meet it and drive it back among the masses of the school already in motion. Then the two sides close, and you can see nothing for minutes but a swaying crowd of boys, at one point violently agitated. That is where the ball is, and there are the keen players to be met, and the glory and the hard knocks to be got : you hear the dull thud, thud of the ball, and the shouts of " Off your side," " Down with him," " Put him over," "Bravo!" This is what we call a scrummage, gen- tlemen, and the first scrummage in a school-house match was no joke in the consulship of Plancus. But see ! it has broken ; the ball is driven out on the school-house side, and a rush of the school carries it past the school-house players-up. "Look out in quarters," Brooke's and twenty other voices ring out ; no need to call though, the school-house captain of quarters has caught it on the bound, dodges the fore- most school-boys, who are heading the rush, and sends jt back with a good drop-kick well into the enemy's TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 99 country. And then follows rush upon rush, and scrummage upon scrummage, the ball now driven through into the school-house quarters, and now into the school goal ; for the school-house have not lost the advantage which the kick-off and a slight wind gave them at the outset, and are slightly " penning " their adversaries. You say you don't see much in it all; nothing but a struggling mass of boys, and a leather ball, which seems to excite them all to great fury, as a red rag does a bull. My dear sir, a battle would look much the same to you, except that the boys would be men, and the balls iron ; but a battle would be worth your looking at for all that, and so is a football match. You can't be expected to appreciate the delicate strokes of play, and turns by which a game is lost and won it takes an old player to do that, but the broad philosophy of football you can un- derstand if you will. Come along with me a little nearer, and let us consider it together. The ball has just fallen again where the two sides are thickest, and they close rapidly around it in a scrummage ; it must be driven through now by force or skill, till it flies out on one side or the other. Look how differently the boys face it ! Here come two of the bull-dogs, bursting through the outsiders ; in they go, straight to the heart of the scrummage, bent on driving that ball out on the opposite side. That is what they mean to do. My sons, my sons ! you are too hot ; you have gone past the ball, and must strug- gle now right through the scrummage, and get round and back again to your own side, before you can be of any further use. Here comes young Brooke ; he goes in as straight as you, but keeps his head, and backs and bends, holding himself still behind the ball, an