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<J
 
 100 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DATS. 
 
 ing it furiously when he gets a chance. Take a leaf 
 out of his book, you young chargers. Here come 
 Speedicut, and Flashman the school-house bully, with 
 shouts and great action. "Won't you two come up to 
 young Brooke, after locking up, by the school-house 
 fire, with " Old fellow, wasn't that just a splendid 
 scrummage by the three trees ! " But he knows you, 
 and so do we. You don't really wan't to drive that 
 ball through that scrummage, chancing all hurt for 
 the glory of the school-house but to make us think 
 that's what you want a vastly different thing ; and 
 fellows of your kidney will never go through more 
 than the skirts of a scrummage, where it's a 11 push and 
 no kicking. We respect boys who keep out of it, and 
 don't sham going in ; but you we had rather not say 
 what we think of you. 
 
 Then the boys who are bending and watching on 
 the- outside, mark them they are most useful players, 
 the dodgers ; who seize on the ball the moment it rolls 
 out from among the chargers, and away with it across 
 to the opposite goal ; they seldom go into the scrum- 
 mage, but must have more coolness than the chargers : 
 as endless as are boys' characters, so are their ways of 
 facing or not facing a scrummage at football. 
 
 Three-quarters of an hour are gone ; first winds are 
 failing, and weight and numbers beginning to tell. 
 Yard by yard the school-house have been driven back, 
 contesting every inch of ground. The bull-dogs are 
 the color of mother earth from shoulder to ankle, ex- 
 cept young Brooke, who has a marvelous knack of 
 keeping his legs. The school-house are being penned 
 in their turn, and now the ball is behind their goal, 
 under the doctor's wall. The doctor and some of his 
 family are there looking on, and seem as anxious as
 
 TOM BROwVs SCHOOL DAYS. 101 
 
 any boy for the success of the school-house. We get 
 a minute's breathing time before old Brooke kicks out, 
 and he gives the word to play strongly for touch, by 
 the three trees. Away goes the ball, and the bull-dogs 
 after it, and in another minute there is a shout of " In 
 touch," " Our ball." Now's your time, old Brooke, 
 while your men are still fresh. He stands with the 
 ball in his hand, while the two sides form in deep lines 
 opposite one another : he must strike it straight out 
 between them. The lines are thickest close to him, 
 but young Brooke and two or three of his men are 
 shifting up further, where the opposite line is weak. 
 Old Brooke strikes it out straight and strong, and it 
 falls opposite his brother. Hurra ! that rush has taken 
 it right through the school line, and away past the 
 three trees, far into their quarters, and young Brooke 
 and the bull-dogs are close upon it. The school leaders 
 rush back shouting " Look out in goal," and strain 
 every nerve to catch him, but they are after the fleet- 
 est foot in Rugby. There they go straight for the 
 school goal-posts, quarters scattering before them. 
 One after another the bull-dogs go down, but young 
 Brooke holds on. " He is down." No ! a long stag- 
 ger, and the danger is past ; that was the shock of 
 Crew, the most dangerous of dodgers. And now he is 
 close to the school goal, the ball not three yards before 
 him. There is a hurried rush of the school fags to the 
 spot, but no one throws himself on the ball, the only 
 chance, and young Brooke has touched it right under 
 the school goal-posts. 
 
 The school leaders come up furious, and administer 
 toco to the wretched fags nearest at hand : they may 
 well be angry, for it is all Lombard street to a china 
 orange that the school-house kick a goal with the ball
 
 102 TOM BROWN S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 touched in such a good place. Old Brooke of coures 
 will kick it out, but who shall catch and place it ? Call 
 Crab Jones. Here he conies, sauntering along with a 
 straw in his mouth, the queerest, coolest fish inKugby: 
 if he were tumbled into the moon this minute, he 
 would just pick himself up without taking his hands 
 out of his pockets or turning a hair. But it is a mo- 
 ment when the boldest charger's heart beats quick. 
 Old Brooke stands with the ball under his arm motion- 
 ing the school back; he will not kick-out till they are 
 all in a goal, behind the posts ; they are all edging 
 forward, inch by inch, to get nearer for the rush at 
 Crab Jones, who stands there in front of old Brooke 
 to catch the ball. If they can reach and destroy him 
 before he catches, the danger is over; and with one 
 and the same rush they will carry it right away to the 
 school-house goal. Fond hope ! it is kicked out and 
 caught beautifully. Crab strikes his heel into the 
 ground, to mark the spot where the ball was caught, 
 beyond which the school line may not advance ; but 
 there they stand, five deep, ready to rush the moment 
 the ball touches the ground. Take plenty of room ! 
 don't give the rush a chance of reaching you ! place it 
 true and steady ! Trust Crab Jones he has made a 
 small hole with his heel for the ball to lie on, by which 
 he is resting on one knee, with his eye on old Brooke. 
 "Now!" Crab places the ball at the word, old 
 Brooke kicks, and it rises slowly and truly as the school 
 rush forward. 
 
 Then a moment's pause, while both sides look up at 
 the spinning ball. There it flies, straight between the 
 two posts, some five feet above the cross-bar, an un- 
 questioned goal ; and a shout of real genuine joy rings 
 out from the school-house players-up, and a faint echo
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 103 
 
 of it comes over the close from the goal-keepers under 
 the doctor's wall. A goal in the first hour such a 
 thing hasn't been done in the school-house match this 
 five years. 
 
 " Over ! " is the cry : the two sides change goals, 
 and the school-house goal-keepers come threading 
 their way across through the masses of the school ; 
 the most openly triumphant of them, among whom is 
 Tom, a school-house boy of two hours' standing, get- 
 ting their ears boxed in the transit. Tom indeed is 
 excited beyond measure, and it is all the sixth-form 
 boy, kindest and safest of goal-keepers, has been able 
 to do, to keep him from rushing out whenever the 
 ball has been near their goal. So he holds him 
 by his side, and instructs him in the science of touch- 
 ing. 
 
 At this moment Griffith, the itinerant vender of 
 oranges from Hill Morton, enters the close with his 
 heavy baskets ; there is a rush of small boys upon the 
 little pale faced man, the two sides mingling together, 
 subdued by the great Goddess Thirst, like the English 
 and French by the streams in the Pyrenees. The 
 leaders are past oranges and apples, but some of them 
 visit their coats, and apply innocent looking ginger-beer 
 bottles to their mouths. It is no ginger-beer though 
 I fear, and will do you no good. One short mad rush, 
 and then a stitch in the side, and no more honest play ; 
 that's what comes of those bottles. 
 
 But now Griffith's baskets are empty, the ball is 
 placed again midway, and the school are going to kick 
 off. Their leaders have sent their lumber into goal, 
 and rated the rest soundly, and one hundred and twenty 
 picked players-up are there, bent on retrieving the 
 game. They are to keep the ball in front of the school-
 
 104 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DATS. 
 
 house goal, and then to drive it in by sheer strength 
 and weight. They mean heavy play and no mistake, 
 and so old Brooke sees ; and places Crab Jones in quar- 
 ters just before the goal, with four or five picked play- 
 ers, who are to keep the ball away to the sides, where 
 a try at goal, if obtained, will be less dangerous than 
 in front. He himself, and Warner and Hedge, who 
 have saved themselves till now, will lead the charges. 
 
 "Are you ready?" "Yes." And away conies the 
 ball kicked high in the air, to give the school time to 
 rush on and catch it as it falls. And here they are 
 among us. Meet them like Englishmen, you school- 
 house boys, and charge them home. Now is the time 
 to show what mettle is in you and there shall be a 
 warm seat by the hall fire, and honor, and lots of bot- 
 tled beer to-night, for him who does his duty in the 
 next half-hour. And they are well met. Again and 
 again the cloud of their players-up gathers before our 
 goal, and comes threatening on, and Warner or Hedge, 
 with young Brooke and the relics of the bull-dogs, 
 break through and carry the ball back ; and old Brooke 
 ranges the field like Job's war-horse, the thickest 
 scrummage parts asunder before his rush, like the 
 waves before a clipper's bows; his cheery voice rings 
 over the field, and his eye is everywhere. And if 
 these miss the ball, and it rolls dangerously in front of 
 our goal, Crab Jones and his men have seized it and 
 sent it away toward the sides with the unerring drop- 
 kick. This is worth living for ; the whole sum of 
 school-boy existence gathered up into one straining, 
 struggling half-hour, a half-hour worth a year of com- 
 mon life. 
 
 The quarter to five has struck, and the play slackens 
 for a minute before goal; but there is Crew, the artful
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 105 
 
 dodger, driving the ball in behind our goal, on the 
 island side, where our quarters are weakest. Is there 
 no one to meet him ? Yes! look at little East ! the ball 
 is just at equal distances between the two, and they 
 rush together, the young man of seventeen and the boy 
 of twelve, and kick it at the same moment. Crew 
 passes on without a stagger ; East is hurled forward 
 by the shock, and plunges on his shoulders, as if he 
 would bury himself in the ground ; but the ball rises 
 straight into the air, and falls behind Crew's back, 
 while the "bravos" of the school-house attest the 
 pluckiest charge of all that hard-fought day. Warner 
 picks East up lame and half stunned, and he hobbles 
 back into goal conscious of having played the man. 
 
 And now the last minutes are come, and the school 
 gather for their last rush every boy of the hundred 
 and twenty who has a run left in him. Reckless of the 
 defense of their own goal, on they come across the 
 level big-side ground, and ball well down among them, 
 straight for our goal, like the column of the Old 
 Guard up the slope at Waterloo. All former charges 
 have been child's play to this. Warner and Hedge 
 have met them, but still on they come. The bull-dogs 
 rush in for the last time ; they are hurled over or car- 
 ried back, striving hand, foot, and eyelids. Old Brooke 
 comes sweeping round the skirts of the play, and, 
 turning short round, picks out the very heart of the 
 scrummage, and plunges in. It wavers for a moment 
 he has the ball ! No, it has passed him, and his 
 voice rings out clear over the advancing tide "lookout 
 in goal." Crab Jones catches it for a moment ; but 
 before he can kick it, the rush is upon him and passes 
 over him ; and he picks himself up behind them with 
 his straw in his mouth, a little dirtier, but as cool as 
 ever,
 
 106 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 The ball rolls slowly in behind the school-house 
 goal not three yards in front Of a dozen of the biggest 
 school players-up. 
 
 There stands the school-house praepostor, safest of 
 goal-keepers, and Tom Brown by his side, who has 
 learned his trade by this time. Now is your time, 
 Tom. The blood of all the Browns is up, and the two 
 rush in together, and throw themselves on the ball, 
 under the very feet of the advancing column ; the 
 praepostor on his hands and knees arching his back, and 
 Tom all along on his face. Over them topple the 
 leaders of the rush, shooting over the back of the prae- 
 postor, but falling flat on Tom, and knocking all the 
 wind out of his small carcass. " Our ball," says the 
 praepostor, rising with his prize ; " but get up there, 
 there's a little fellow under you." They are hauled 
 and roll off him, and Tom is discovered a motionless 
 body. 
 
 Old Brooke picks him up. " Stand back, g.ive him 
 air," he says ; and then feeling his limbs, adds, " No 
 bones broken. How do you feel, young un ? " 
 
 "Hah-hah," gasps Tom as his wind comes back, 
 " pretty well, thank you all right." 
 
 " Who is he ? " says Brooke. " Oh, it's Brown ; 
 he's a new boy ; I know him," says East, coming up. 
 
 " Well, he is a plucky youngster, and will make a 
 player," says Brooke. 
 
 And five o'clock strikes. " No side," is called, and 
 the first day of the school-house match is over.
 
 10M BBOWH'S SCHOOL DAYS. 107 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 AFTER THE MATCH. 
 
 -Some food we had." Shakespeare. 
 
 $$ itoroS dSv?. THEOCB. Id. 
 
 As THE boys scattered away from the ground, and 
 East leaning on Tom's arm, and limping along, was 
 beginning to consider what luxury they should go 
 and buy for tea to celebrate that glorious victory, the 
 two Brookes came striding by. Old Brooke caught sight 
 of East and stopped; put his hand kindly on his shoulder 
 and said, " Bravo, youngster, you played famously : 
 not much the matter, I hope ? " 
 
 " No, nothing at all," said East, "Only a little twist 
 from that charge." 
 
 "Well, mind and get all right for next Saturday ;" 
 and the leader passed on, leaving East better for those 
 few words than all the opodeldoc in England would 
 have made him, and Tom ready to give one of his ears 
 for as much notice. Ah ! light words of those whom 
 we love and honor, what a power ye are, and how 
 carelessly wielded by those who can use you ! Surely 
 for these things also God will ask an account. 
 
 " Tea's directly after locking-up, you see," said East, 
 hobbling along as fast as he could, " so you come along 
 down to Sally Harrowell's ; that's our school-house 
 tuck-shop she bakes such stunning murphies, we'll
 
 108 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 have a penn'orth each for tea ; come along, or they'll 
 all be gone." 
 
 Tom's new purse and money burned in his pocket ; he 
 wondered, as they toddled through the quadrangle and 
 along the street, whether East would be insulted if he 
 suggested further extravagance, as he had not suffi- 
 cient faith in a pennyworth of potatoes. At last he 
 blurted out 
 
 " I say, East, can't we get something else besides 
 potatoes? I've got lots of money, you know." 
 
 " Bless us, yes, I forgot," said East, " you've only 
 just come. You see all my tin's been gone this twelve 
 weeks, it hardly ever lasts beyond the first fortnight ; 
 and our allowances were all stopped this morning for 
 broken windows, so I haven't got a penny. I've got 
 a tick at Sally's, of course ; but then I hate running it 
 high, you see, toward the end of the half, 'cause one 
 has to shell out for it all directly one come's back, and 
 that's a bore." 
 
 Tom didn't understand much of this talk, but seized 
 on the fact that East had no money, and was deny- 
 ing himself some little pet luxury in consequence. 
 " Well, what shall I buy ? " said he ; " I'm uncommon 
 hungry." 
 
 " I say," said East, stopping to look at him and rest 
 his leg, " you're a trump, Brown. I'll do the same by 
 you next half. Let's have a pound of sausages, then ; 
 that's the best grub for tea I know of." 
 
 " Very well," said Tom, as pleased as possible ; 
 " where do they sell them ? " 
 
 "Oh, over here, just opposite;" and they crossed 
 the street and walked into the cleanest little front room 
 of a small house, half parlor, half shop, and bought 
 a pound of most particular sausages ; East talking
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 109 
 
 pleasantly to Mrs. Porter while she put them in paper, 
 and Tom doing the paying part. 
 
 From Porter's they adjourned to Sally Harrowell's, 
 where they found a lot of school-house boys waiting 
 for the roast potatoes, and relating their own exploits 
 in the day's match at the top of their voices. The 
 street opened at once into Sally's kitchen, a low, brick- 
 floored room, with large recess for fire, and chimney- 
 corner seats. Poor little Sally, the most good-natured 
 and much enduring of womankind, was bustling about 
 with a napkin in her hand, from her own oven to those 
 of the neighbors' cottages, up the yard at the back 
 of the house. Stumps, her husband, a short, easy-going 
 shoemaker, with a beery, humorous eye and ponderous 
 calves, who lived mostly on his wife's earnings, stood 
 in a corner of the room, exchanging shots of the rough- 
 est description of repartee with every boy in turn. 
 " Stumps, you lout, you've had too much beer again to- 
 day." " 'T wasn't of your paying for, then." " Stumps' 
 calves are running down into his ankles, they want to 
 get to grass." Better be doing that, than gone 
 altogether like yours," etc. etc. Very poor stuff it 
 was, but it served to make time pass ; and every now 
 and then Sally arrived in the middle with a smoking 
 tin of potatoes, which were cleared off in a few 
 seconds, each boy as he seized his lot running off to 
 the house with " Put me down two-penn'orth, Sally ; " 
 " Put down three-penn'orth, between me and Davis," 
 etc. How she ever kept the accounts so straight as 
 she did, in her head and on her slate, was a perfect 
 wonder. 
 
 East and Tom got served at last, and started back 
 for the school-house just as the locking-up bell began 
 to ring; Bast on the way recounting tb life and
 
 110 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 adventures of Stumps, who was a character. Among 
 his other small a\ r ocations, he was the hind carrier of 
 a sedan-chair, the last of its race, in which the Rugby 
 ladies still went out to tea, and in which, when he 
 was fairly harnessed and carrying a load, it was the 
 delight of small and mischievous boys to follow him 
 and whip his calves. This was too much for the temper 
 even of Stumps, and he would pursue his tormentors 
 in a vindictive and apoplectic manner when released, 
 but was easily pacified by twopence to buy beer with. 
 The lower school-boys of the school-house, some fif- 
 teen in number, had tea in the lower-fifth school, and 
 were presided over by the old verger or head-porter. 
 Each boy had a quarter of a loaf of bread and pat of 
 butter, and as much tea as he pleased ; and there was 
 scarcely one who didn't add to this some further luxury 
 such as baked potatoes, a herring, sprats, or some- 
 thing of the sort ; but few, at this period of the half- 
 year, could live up to a pound of Porter's sausages, 
 and East was in great magnificence upon the strength 
 of theirs. He had produced a toasting-fork from his 
 study, and set Tom to toast the sausages, while he 
 mounted guard over their butter and potatoes ; 
 " ' cause," as he explained, " you're a new boy, and 
 they'll play you some trick and get our butter, but 
 you can toast just as well as I." So Tom, in the midst 
 of three or four more urchins similarly employed, 
 toasted his face and the sausages at the same time be- 
 fore the huge fire, till the latter cracked ; when East 
 from his watch-tower shouted that they were done ; 
 and then the feast proceeded, and the festive cups of 
 tea were filled and emptied, and Tom imparted of the 
 sausages in small bits to many neighbors, and thought 
 be had never tasted such good potatoes or seen such
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. Ill 
 
 jolly boys. They on their parts waived all ceremony, 
 and pegged away at the sausages and potatoes, and, 
 remembering Tom's performance in goal, voted East's 
 new crony a brick. After tea, and while the things 
 were being cleared away, they gathered round the 
 fire, and the talk on the match still went on ; and 
 those who had them to show, pulled up their trousers 
 and showed the hacks they had received in the good 
 cause. 
 
 They were soon however all turned out of the school 
 and East conducted Tom up to his bedroom, that he 
 might get on clean things and wash himself before 
 singing. 
 
 " "What's singing ? " said Tom, taking his head out 
 of his basin where he had been plunging it in cold 
 water. 
 
 ""Well, you are jolly green," answered his friend 
 from the neighboring basin. " Why the last six Sat- 
 urdays of every half, we sing, of course ; and this is 
 the first of them. No first lesson to do, you know, and 
 lie in bed to-morrow morning." 
 
 " But who sings?" 
 
 " Why everybody, of course ; you'll see soon enough. 
 We begin directly after supper, and sing till bed-time. 
 It ain't such good fun now though as in the summer 
 half, 'cause then we sing in the little fives' -court, under 
 the library, you know. We take our tables, and the 
 big boys sit round, and drink beer ; double allowance 
 on Saturday nights ; and we cut about the quadrangle 
 between the songs, and it looks like a lot of robbers in 
 a cave. And the louts come and pound at the great 
 gates, and we pound back again, and shout at them. 
 But this half we only sing in the hall. Come along 
 0own to my study."
 
 112 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 Their principal employment in the study was to 
 clear out East's table, removing the drawers and 
 ornaments and tablecloth ; for he lived in the bot- 
 tom passage, and his table was in requisition for the 
 singing. 
 
 Supper came in due course at seven o'clock, consist- 
 ing of bread and cheese and beer, which was all saved 
 for the singing ; and directly afterward the fags went 
 to work to prepare the hall. The school-house hall, 
 as has been said, is a great long, high room, with two 
 large fires on one side, and two large iron-bound tables, 
 one running down the middle, and the other along the 
 wall opposite the fire-places. Around the upper fire 
 the fags placed the tables in the form of a horse- 
 shoe, and upon them the jugs with the Saturday night's 
 allowance of beer. Then the big bo} r s used to drop in 
 and take their seats, bringing with them bottled beer 
 and song-books ; for although they all knew the songs 
 by heart, it was the thing to have an old manuscript 
 book descended from some departed hero, in which 
 they were all carefully written out. 
 
 The sixth-form boys had not yet appeared ; so, to 
 fill up the gap, an interesting and time-honored cere- 
 mony was gone through. Each new boy was placed 
 on the table in turn, and made to sing a solo, under 
 the penalty of drinking a large mug of salt and water 
 if he resisted or broke down. How r ever, the new boys 
 all sing like nightingales to-night, and the salt water is 
 not in requisition ; Tom, as his part, performing the 
 old west-county song of " The Leathern Bottel " with 
 considerable applause. And at the half hour down 
 come the sixth and fifth form boys, and take their 
 places at the tables, which are filled up by the next 
 biggest boys, the rest, for whom there is no room at 
 the table, standing round outside.
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 113 
 
 The glasses and mugs are filled, and then the fugle- 
 man strikes up the old sea song 
 
 "A wet sheet and a flowing sea, 
 And a wind that follows fast," etc. 
 
 which is the invariable first song in the school-house, 
 and all the seventy voices join in, not mindful of 
 harmony, but bent on noise, which they attain de- 
 cidedly ; but the general effect isn't bad. And then 
 follow the "British Grenadiers," "Billy Taylor," 
 "The Siege of Serin gapatam," "Three Jolly Post- 
 boys," and other vociferous songs in rapid succession, 
 including the " Chesapeake and Shannon " a song 
 lately introduced in honor of old Brooke ; and when 
 they come to the words 
 
 "Brave Broke he waved his sword, crying, Now my lads, aboard, 
 And we'll stop their playing Yankee-doodle-dandy ohl " 
 
 you expect the roof to come down. The sixth and 
 fifth know that " brave Broke" of the Shannon was no 
 sort of relation to our old Brooke. The fourth-form 
 are uncertain in their belief, but for the most part 
 hold that old Brooke was a midshipman then on board 
 his uncle's ship. And the lower school never doubt 
 for a moment that it was our old Brooke who led the 
 boarders, in what capacity they care not a straw. 
 During the pauses the bottled -beer corks fly rapidly, 
 and the talk is fast and merry, and the big boys, at 
 least all of them who have a fellow-feeling for dry 
 throats, hand their mugs over their shoulders to be 
 emptied by the small ones who stand round behind. 
 
 Then Warner, the head of the house, gets up and 
 wants to speak, but he can't for every boy knows 
 what's coming ; and the big boys who sit at the tables
 
 114 TOM BROWN S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 pound them and cheer ; and the small boys who stand 
 behind pound one another, and cheer, and rush about 
 the hall cheering. Then silence being made, Warner 
 reminds them of the old school-house custom of drink- 
 ing the healths, on the first night of singing, of those 
 who are going to leave at the end of the half. " He 
 sees that they know what he is going to say already 
 (loud cheers) and so won't keep them, but only ask 
 them to treat the toast as it deserves. It is the head 
 of the eleven, the head of the big side football, their 
 leader on this glorious day Peter Brooke ! " 
 
 And away goes the pounding and cheering again, 
 becoming deafening when old Brooke gets on his legs ; 
 till, a table having broken down, and a gallon or so of 
 beer been upset, and all throats getting dry, silence 
 ensues, and the hero speaks, leaning his hands on the 
 table, and bending a little forward. No action, no 
 tricks of oratory ; plain, strong, and straight, like his 
 play. 
 
 " Gentlemen of the school-house ! 1 am very proud 
 of the way in which you have received my name, and 
 I wish I could say all I should like in return. But I 
 know I shan't. However, I'll do the best I can to say 
 what seems to me ought to be said by a fellow who's 
 just going to leave, and who has spent a good slice of 
 his life here. Eight years it is, and eight such years 
 as I can never hope to have again. So now I hope 
 you'll all listen to me (loud cheers of ' that we will ') 
 for I'm going to talk seriously. You're bound to lis- 
 ten to me ; for what's the use of calling me ' pater,' 
 and all that, if you don't mind what I say ? And I'm 
 going to talk seriously, because I feel so. It's a jolly 
 time, too, getting to the end of the half, and a goal 
 kicked by us first day (tremendous applause) after
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 115 
 
 one of the hardest and fiercest day's play I can re- 
 member in eight years (frantic shoutings). The school 
 played splendidly, too, I will say, and kept it up to the 
 last. That last charge of theirs would have carried 
 away a house. 1 never thought to see anything again 
 of old Crab there, except little pieces, when I saw him 
 tumbled over by it (laughter and shouting, and great 
 slapping on the back of Jones by the boys nearest 
 him). Well, but we beat 'em (cheers). Aye, but why 
 did we beat 'em ? answer me that (shouts of ' your 
 play'). Nonsense! 'Twasn't the wind and kick-off 
 either that wouldn't do it. 'Twasn't because we've 
 half-a-dozen of the best players in the school, as we 
 have. I wouldn't change Warner, and Hedge, and 
 Crab, and the young un, for any six on their side 
 (violent cheers). But half-a-dozen fellows can't keep 
 it up for two hours against two hundred. Why is it, 
 then? I'll tell you what I think. It's because we've 
 more reliance on one another, more of a house feeling, 
 more fellowship than the school can have. Each of us 
 knows and can depend on his next hand man better 
 that's why we beat 'em to-day. We've union, they've 
 division there's the secret (cheers). But how's this 
 to be kept up ? How's it to be improved ? That's the 
 question. For I take it, we're all in earnest about 
 beating the school, whatever else we care about. I 
 know I'd sooner win two school-house matches run- 
 ning than get the Balliol scholarship any day (fran- 
 tic cheers). 
 
 " Now, I'm as proud of the house as any one. I 
 believe it's the best house in the school, out-and-out 
 (cheers). But it's a long way from what I want to see 
 it. First there's a deal of bullying going on. I know 
 it well. I don't pry about and interfere; that only
 
 116 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 makes it more underhand, and encourages the small 
 boys to come to us with their fingers in their eyes 
 telling tales, and so we should be worse off than ever. 
 It's very little kindness for the sixth to meddle gener- 
 ally you youngsters, mind that. You'll be all the 
 better football players for learning to stand it, and to 
 take your own parts, and fight it through. But depend 
 on it, there's nothing breaks up a house like bullying. 
 Bullies are cowards, and one coward makes many ; 
 so good-bye to the school-house match if bullying gets 
 ahead here. (Loud applause from the small boys, who 
 look meaningly at Flashman and other boys at the 
 tables.) Then there's fuddling about in the public- 
 houses, and drinking bad spirits, and punch, and such 
 rot-gut stuff. That won't make good drop-kicks or 
 chargers of you, take my word for it. You get plenty 
 of good beer here, and that's enough for you ; and 
 drinking isn't fine or manly, whatever some of you 
 may think of it. 
 
 "One other thing I must have a word about. A 
 lot of you think and say, for I've heard you, 'There's 
 this new doctor hasn't been here so long as some of us, 
 and he's changing all the old customs. Rugby, and 
 the school-house especially, are going to the dogs. 
 Stand up for the good old ways, and down with the 
 doctor! ' Now I'm as fond of old Rugby customs and 
 ways as any of you, and I've been here longer than 
 any of you, and I'll give you a word of advice in time, 
 for I shouldn't like to see any of you getting sacked. 
 * Down with the doctor ! ' is easier said than done. 
 You'll find him pretty tight on his perch, I take it, and 
 an awkwardish customer to handle in that line. Be- 
 sides now, what customs has he put down ? There 
 wus the good old custom of taking the Jinch-pins out
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 11? 
 
 of the farmers' and bagmen's gigs at the fairs, and a 
 cowardly blackguard custom it was. We all know 
 what came of it ; and no wonder the doctor objected 
 to it. But, come now, any of you, name a custom that 
 he has put down." 
 
 "The hounds," calls out a fifth-form boy, clad in a 
 green cutaway with brass buttons and cord trousers, 
 the leader of the sporting interest, and reputed a great 
 rider and keen hand generally. 
 
 " Well, we had six or seven mangy harriers and 
 beagles belonging to the house, I'll allow, and had had 
 them for years, and that the doctor put them down. 
 But what good ever came of them ? Only rows with 
 all the keepers for ten miles round; and big-side hare 
 and hounds is better fun ten times over. What else ? " 
 
 No answer. 
 
 " Well, I won't go on. Think it over for yourselves : 
 you'll find, I believe, that he don't meddle with any 
 one that's worth keeping. And mind now, I say again, 
 look out for squalls, if you will go your own way, and 
 that way ain't the doctor's, for it'll lead to grief. You 
 all know that I'm not the fellow to back a master 
 through thick and thin. If I saw him stopping foot- 
 ball, or cricket, or bathing, or sparring, I'd be as ready 
 as any fellow to stand up about it. But he don't he 
 encourages them ; didn't you see him out to-day for 
 half-an-hour watching us? (loud cheers for the doctor) ; 
 and he's a strong, true man, and a wise one too, and a 
 public-school man, too. (Cheers). And so let's stick to 
 him, and talk no more rot, and drink his health as the 
 head of the house. (Loud cheers). And now I've 
 done blowing up, and very glad I am to have done. 
 But it's a solemn thing to be thinking of leaving a 
 place which one has lived in and loved for eight years ;
 
 118 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 and if one can say a word for the good of the old 
 house at such a time, why, it should be said, whether 
 bitter or sweet. If I hadn't been proud of the house 
 and you aye no one knows how proud I shouldn't 
 be blowing you up. And now let's get to singing. 
 But before I sit down I must give you a toast to be 
 drunk with three-times three and all the honors. It's 
 a toast which I hope every one of us, wherever he 
 may go hereafter, will never fail to drink when he 
 thinks of the brave bright days of his boyhood. It's a 
 toast which should bind us all together, and to those 
 who've gone before, and who'll come after us here. It 
 is the dear old school-house the best house of the best 
 school in England ! " 
 
 My dear boys, old and young, you who have be- 
 longed, or do belong, to other schools and other houses, 
 don't begin throwing my poor little book about the 
 room, and abusing me and it, and vowing 3 7 ou'll read 
 no more when you get to this point. I allow you've 
 provocation for it. But, come now would you, any 
 of you, give a fig for a fellow who didn't believe in, 
 and stand up for his own house and his own school? 
 You know you wouldn't. Then don't object to my 
 cracking up the old school-house, Eugby. Haven't I 
 a right to do it, when I'm taking all the trouble of 
 writing this true history for all your benefits ? If you 
 ain't satisfied, go and write the history of your own 
 houses in your own times, and say all you know for 
 your own schools and houses, provided it's true, and 
 I'll read it without abusing you. 
 
 The last few words hit the audience in their weakest 
 place ; they had been not altogether enthusiastic at 
 several parts of old Brooke's speech ; but " the best 
 house of the best school in England " was too much
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 119 
 
 for them all, and carried even the sporting and drink- 
 ing interests off their legs into rapturous applause, 
 and (it is to be hoped) resolutions to lead a new life 
 and remember old Brooke's words ; which, however, 
 they didn't altogether do, as will appear hereafter. 
 
 But it required all old Brooke's popularity to carry 
 down parts of his speech ; especially that relating to 
 the doctor. For there are no such bigoted holders 
 by established forms and customs, be they never so 
 foolish or meaningless, as English school-boys at 
 least, as the school-boy of our generation. "We mag- 
 nified into heroes every boy who had left, and looked 
 upon him with awe and reverence, when he revisited 
 the place a year or so afterward, on his way to or 
 from Oxford or Cambridge ; and happy was the boy 
 who remembered him, and sure of an audience as he 
 expounded what he used to do and say, though it were 
 sad enough stuff to make angels, not to say head-mas- 
 ters weep. 
 
 We looked upon every trumpery little custom and 
 habit which had obtained in the school as though it 
 had been a law of the Medes and Persians, and re- 
 garded the infringement or variation of it as a sort of 
 sacrilege. And the doctor, than whom no man or boy 
 had a stronger liking for old school customs which 
 were good and sensible, had, as has already been 
 hinted, come into most decided collision with several 
 which were neither the one nor the other. And as 
 old Brooke had said, when he came into collision with 
 boys or customs, there was nothing for them but to 
 give in or take themselves off ; because what he said 
 had to be done, and no mistake about it. And this 
 was beginning to be pretty clearly understood ; the 
 boys felt tliat there was a strong man over them, who
 
 120 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 would have things his own way ; and hadn't yet 
 learned that he was a wise and loving man also. His 
 personal character and influence had not had time to 
 make itself felt, except by a very few of the bigger 
 boys, with whom he came more directly in contact ; 
 and he Avas looked upon with great fear and dislike by 
 the great majority even of his own house. For he had 
 found school, and school-house, in a state of monstrous 
 license and misrule, and was still employed in the neces- 
 sary but unpopular work of setting up order with a 
 strong hand. 
 
 However, as has been said, old Brooke triumphed 
 and the boys cheered him and then the doctor. 
 And then more songs came, and the healths of the 
 other boys about to leave, who each made a 
 speech, one flowery, another maudlin, a third prosy, 
 and so on, which are not necessary to be here re- 
 corded. 
 
 Half past nine struck in the middle of the perform- 
 ance of " Auld Lang Syne," a most obstreperous pro- 
 ceeding; during which there was an immense amount 
 of standing with one foot on the table, knocking mugs 
 together and shaking hands, without which accompan- 
 iments it seems impossible for the youth of Britain to 
 take part in that famous old song. The under-porter 
 of the school-house entered during the performance, 
 bearing five or six long wooden candlesticks with 
 lighted dips in them, which he proceeded to stick 
 into their holes in such part of the great tables 
 as he could get at ; and then stood outside the 
 ring till the end of the song, when he was hailed with 
 shouts. 
 
 " Bill, you old muff, the half hour hasn't struck." 
 " Here, Bill, drink some cock-tall." " Sing us a song
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 121 
 
 old boy." " Don't you wish you may get the table ? " 
 Bill drank the profferred cocktail not unwillingly, and 
 putting down the empty glass, remonstrated, "Now, 
 gentlemen, there's only ten minutes to prayers, and we 
 must get the hall straight." 
 
 Shouts of " No, no ! " and a violent effort to strike 
 up " Billy Taylor " for the third time. Bill looked 
 appealingly to old Brooke, who got up and stopped 
 the noise. " Now then, lend a hand, you youngsters, 
 and get the tables back ; clear away the jugs and 
 glasses. Bill's right. Open the windows, Warner." 
 The boy addressed, who sat by the long ropes, pro- 
 ceeded to pull up the great windows, and let in a clear 
 fresh rush of night air, which made the candles 
 flickerand gutter, and the fires roar. The circle broke up, 
 each collaring his own jug, glass, and song-book; Bill 
 pounced on the big table, and began to rattle it away 
 to its place outside the buttery -door. The lower-pas- 
 sage boys carried off their small tables, aided by their 
 friends, while above all, standing on the great hall-table, 
 a knot of untiring sons of harmony made night doleful 
 by a prolonged performance of " God save the King." 
 His majesty King William IV. then reigned over us, a 
 monarch deservedly popular among the boys addicted 
 to melody, to whom he was chiefly known from the 
 beginning of that excellent, if slightly vulgar, song in 
 which they much delighted 
 
 " Come, neighbors all both great and small, 
 
 Perform your duties here, 
 And loudly sing ' live Billy our king,' 
 
 For bating the tax upon beer." 
 
 Others of the more learned in songs also celebrated his 
 praises in the sort of ballad, which I take to have been
 
 122 TOM BUOWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 written by some Irish loyalist. I have forgotten all 
 but the chorus, which ran 
 
 "God save our good King William, be bis name forever blessed; 
 He's the father of all his people, and the guardian of all the rest." 
 
 In troth, we were loyal subjects in those days, in a 
 rough way. I trust that our successors make as much 
 of her present majesty, and, having regard to the 
 greater refinement of the times, have adopted or written 
 other songs equally hearty, but more civilized, in her 
 honor. 
 
 Then the quarter to ten struck, and the prayer-bell 
 rang. The sixth and fifth form boys ranged themselves 
 in their school order along the wall, on either side of 
 the great fires, the middle fifth and upper-school boys 
 round the long table in the middle of the hall, and the 
 lower-school boys round the upper part of the second 
 long table, which ran down the side of the hall furthest 
 from the fires. Here Tom found himself at the bottom 
 of all, in a state of mind and body not at all fit for 
 prayers, as he thought ; and so tried hard to make 
 himself serious, but couldn't for the life of him, do 
 anything but repeat in his head the choruses of some 
 of the songs, and stare at all the boys opposite, won- 
 dering at the brilliancy of their waistcoats, and specu- 
 lating what sort of fellows they were. The steps of 
 the head-porter are heard on the stairs, and a light 
 gleams at the door. " Hush ! " from the fifth-form 
 boys who stand there, and then in strides the doctor, 
 cap on head, book in one hand, and gathering up his 
 gown in the other. He walks up the middle, and 
 takes his post by Warner, who begins calling over the 
 names. The doctor takes no notice of anything, but 
 quietly turns over his book and finds the place, and.
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 then stands, cap in hand and finger in book, looking 
 straight before his nose. He knows better than any 
 one when to look, and when to see nothing ; to-night 
 is singing night, and there's been lots of noise and no 
 harm done ; nothing but beer drunk, and nobody the 
 worse for it ; though some of them do look hot and 
 excited. So the doctor sees nothing, but fascinates 
 Tom in a horrible manner as he stands there, and 
 reads out the Psalm in that deep, ringing, searching 
 voice of his. Prayers are over, and Tom still stares 
 open-mouthed after the doctor's retiring figure, when 
 he feels a pull at his sleeve, and turning round, sees 
 East. 
 
 " I say, were you ever tossed in a blanket ? " 
 
 " No," said Tom ; " why ? " 
 
 "'Cause there'll be tossing to-night, most likely, 
 before the sixth come up to bed. So if you funk, you 
 just come along and hide, or else they'll catch you and 
 toss you." 
 
 "Were you ever tossed ? Does it hurt?" inquired 
 Tom. 
 
 " Oh yes, bless you, a dozen times," said East, as he 
 hobbled along by Tom's side up-stairs. " It don't hurt 
 unless you fall on the floor. But most fellows don't 
 like it."" 
 
 They stopped at the fireplace in the top passage, 
 where were a crowd of small boys whispering together, 
 and evidently unwilling to go up into the bedrooms. 
 In a minute, however, a study door opened, and a 
 sixth-form boy came out, and off they all scuttled up 
 the stairs, and then noiselessly dispersed to their 
 different rooms. Tom's heart beat rather quick as he 
 and East reached their room, but he had made up his 
 mind. " I shan't hide, East," said he.
 
 124 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 " Very well, old fellow," replied East, evidently 
 pleased ; " no more shall I they'll be here for us 
 directly." 
 
 The room was a great big one, with a dozen beds in 
 it, but not a boy that Tom could see, except East and 
 himself. East pulled off his coat and waistcoat, and 
 then sat on the bottom of his bed, whistling, and pull- 
 ing off his boots; Tom followed his example, 
 
 A noise and steps are heard in the passage, the door 
 opens, and in lush four or five great fifth-form boys, 
 headed by Flashman in his glory. 
 
 Tom and East slept in the farther corner of the room, 
 and were not seen at first. 
 
 " Gone to ground, eh ? " roared Flashman ; " push 
 'em out then, boys ! look under the beds : " and he 
 pulled out the little white curtain of the one nearest 
 him. "Who-o-op," he roared, pulling away at the 
 leg of a small boy, who held on tight to the leg of the 
 bed, and sung out lustily for mercy. 
 
 " Here, lend a hand one of you, and help me pull 
 out this young howling brute. Hold your tongue, sir, 
 or Til kill you?' 
 
 "Oh, please, Flashman, please, Walker, don't toss me! 
 I'll fag for you, I'll do anything, only don't toss me." 
 
 "You be hanged," said Flashman, lugging the 
 
 wretched boy along, " 'twont hurt you, you ! 
 
 Come along, boys, here he is." 
 
 " I say, Flashy," sung out another of the big boys, 
 "drop that; you heard what old Pater Brooke said 
 to-night. I'll be hanged if we'll toss any one against 
 their will no more bullying. Lot him go, I say." 
 
 Flashman, with an oath and a kick, released his 
 prey, who rushed headlong under his bed again, for 
 fear they should change their minds, and crept along
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 125 
 
 underneath the other beds, till he got under that of the 
 sixth -for in boy, which he knew they daren't disturb. 
 
 " There's plenty of youngsters don't care about it," 
 said Walker. " Here, here's Scud East you'll be tossed, 
 won't you, young un ? " Scud was East's nickname, 
 or Black, as we called it, gained by his fleetness of 
 foot. 
 
 " Yes," said East, " if you like, only mind my foot." 
 
 "And here's another who didn't hide. Hullo! new 
 boy; what's your name, sir?" 
 
 "Brown." 
 
 " Well, Whitey Brown, you don't mind being 
 tossed ? " 
 
 " No," said Tom, setting his teeth. 
 
 " Come along, then, boys," sung out Walker ; and 
 away they all went, carrying along Tom and East, to 
 the intense relief of four or five other small boys, who 
 crept out from under the beds and behind them. 
 
 " What a trump Scud is," said one. " They won't 
 come back here now." 
 
 " And that new boy, too ; he must be a good plucked 
 one." 
 
 " Ah ! wait till he has been tossed on to the floor ; 
 see how he'll like it then ! " 
 
 Meantime the procession went down the passage to 
 Number 7, the largest room, and the scene of tossing, 
 in the middle of which was a great open space. Here 
 they joined other parties of the bigger boys, each with 
 a captive or two, some willing to be tossed, some sul- 
 len, and some frightened to death. At Walker's sug- 
 gestion, all who were afraid were let off, in honor of 
 Pater Brooke's speech. 
 
 Then a dozen big boys seized hold of a blanket 
 tl ragged from one of tbe beds, "In with iSgud, quick j
 
 126 TOM BROWN S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 there's no time to lose." East was chucked into the 
 blanket. " Once, twice, thrice, and away ; " up he 
 went like a shuttlecock, but not quite up to the ceil- 
 ing. 
 
 " Now, boys, with a will," cried Walker, " once, 
 twice, three, and away ! " This time he went clean 
 up, and kapt himself from touching the ceiling with 
 his hand; and so again a third time, when he was 
 turned out, and up went another boy. And then came 
 Tom's turn. He lay quite still, by East's advice, and 
 didn't dislike the "once, twice, thrice;" but the 
 " away " wasn't so pleasant. They were in good wind 
 now, and sent him slap up to the ceiling first time, 
 against which his knees came rather sharply. But the 
 moment's pause before descending was the rub, the 
 feeling of utter helplessness, and of leaving his whole 
 inside behind him sticking to the ceiling. Tom was 
 very near shouting to be set down, when he found 
 himself back in the blanket, but thought of East, and 
 didn't ; and so took his three tosses without a kick or 
 a cry, and was called a young trump for his pains. 
 
 He and East, having earned it, stood now looking 
 on. No catastrophe happened, as all the captives were 
 cool hands, and didn't struggle. This didn't suit 
 Flashman. What your real bully likes in tossing, is 
 Avhen the boys kick and struggle, or hold on to one 
 side of the blanket, and so get pitched bodily on to 
 the floor ; it's no fun to him when no one is hurt or 
 frightened. 
 
 " Let's toss two of them together, Walker," sug- 
 gested he. 
 
 " What a cursed bully you are, Flashy," rejoined 
 the other. " Up with another one." 
 
 And so no two boys were tossed together, the peculiar
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DATS. 127 
 
 hardship of which is, that it's too much for human 
 nature to lie still then and share troubles ; and so the 
 wretched pair of small boys struggle in the air which 
 shall fall a-top in the descent, to the no small risk of 
 both falling out of the blanket, and the huge delight 
 of brutes like Flashman. 
 
 But now there's a cry that the praepostor of the 
 room is coming ; so the tossing stops, and all scatter to 
 their different rooms : and Tom is left to turn in, with 
 the first day's experience of a public school to medi- 
 tate upon.
 
 128 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS 
 
 CHAPTER YII. 
 
 SETTLING TO THE COLLAR. 
 
 Says Giles, " Tis mortal bard to go ; 
 
 But if so be's I must, 
 I means to follow arter lie 
 
 As goes liisself the fust." Ballad. 
 
 EVERYBODY, I suppose, knows the dreamy delicious 
 state in which one lies, half asleep, half awake, while 
 consciousness begins to return, after a sound night's 
 rest in a new place which we are glad to be in, follow- 
 ing upon a day of unwonted excitement and exertion. 
 There are few pleasanter pieces of life. The worst of 
 it is that they last such a short time ; for, nurse them 
 as you will, by lying perfectly passive in mind and 
 body, you can't make more than five minutes or so of 
 them. After which time, the stupid, obtrusive, wake- 
 ful entity which we call " I," as impatient as he is 
 stiff necked, spite of our teeth will force himself back 
 again, and take possession of us down to our very 
 toes. 
 
 It was in this state that Master Tom lay at half- 
 past seven on the morning following the day of his 
 arrival, and from his clean little white bed watched 
 the movements of Bogle (the generic name by which 
 the successive shoeblacks of the school-house were 
 known), as he marched round from bed to bed, collect- 
 ing the dirty shoes and boots, and depositing clean 
 ones in their places.
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 129 
 
 There he lay, half doubtful as to where exactly in. 
 the universe he was, but conscious that he had made 
 a step in life which he had been anxious to make. It 
 was only just light as he looked lazily out of the wide 
 windows, and saw the tops of the great elms, and the 
 rooks circling about, and cawing remonstrances to the 
 lazy ones of their commonwealth, before starting in a 
 body for the neighboring plowed fields. The noise 
 of the room-door closing behind Bogle, as he made his 
 exit with the shoe-basket under his arm, roused Tom 
 thoroughly, and he sat up in bed and looked round the 
 room. What in the world could be the matter with 
 his shoulders and loins ? He felt as if he had been 
 severely beaten all down his back, the natural result 
 of his performance at his first match. He drew up his 
 knees and rested his chin on them, and went over all 
 the events of yesterday, rejoicing in his new life, what 
 he had seen of it, and all that was to come. 
 
 Presently one or two of the other boys roused them- 
 selves, and began to sit up and talk to one another in 
 low tones. Then East, after a roll or two, came to an 
 anchor also, and, nodding to Tom, began examining 
 his ankle. 
 
 " What a pull," said he, " that it's lie-in-bed, for I 
 shall be as lame as a tree, I think." 
 
 It was Sunday morning, and Sunday lectures had 
 not yet been established ; so that nothing but breakfast 
 intervened between bed and eleven o'clock chapel a 
 gap by no means easy to fill up : in fact, though re- 
 ceived with the correct amount of grumbling, the first 
 lecture instituted by the doctor shortly afterward was 
 a great boon to the school. It was lie in bed, and no 
 one was in a hurry to get up, especially in rooms 
 where the sixth-form boy was a good-tempered fellow,
 
 130 TOM BROWN'S SCIIOOL DAYS. 
 
 as was the case in Tom's room, and allowed the small 
 boys to talk and laugh, and do pretty much what they 
 pleased, so long as they didn't disturb him. His bed 
 was a bigger one than the rest, standing in the corner 
 by the fireplace, with a washing-stand and large basin 
 by the side, where he lay in state, with his white cur- 
 tains tucked in so as to form a retiring place : an awful 
 subject of contemplation to Tom, who slept nearly op- 
 posite, and watched the great man rouse himself and 
 take a book from under his pillow, and begin reading, 
 leaning his head on his hand, and turning his back to 
 the room. Soon, however, a noise of striving urchins 
 arose, and muttered encouragements from the neigh- 
 boring boys, of " Go it, Tadpole ! " " Now, young 
 Green ! " " Haul away his blanket ! " " Slipper him 
 on the hands!" Young Green and little Hall, com- 
 monly called Tadpole, from his great black head and 
 thin legs, slept side by side far away by the door, and 
 were forever playing one another tricks, which usually 
 ended, as on this morning, in open and violent collision : 
 and now, unmindful of all order and authority, there 
 they were, each hauling away at the other's bed-clothes 
 with one hand, and with the other, armed with a 
 slipper, belaboring whatever portion of the body of 
 his adversary came within reach. 
 
 " Hold that noise, up in the corner," called out the 
 prrepostor, sitting up and looking round his curtains ; 
 and the Tadpole and young Green sank down into 
 their disordered beds, and then, looking at his watch, 
 added : " Hullo, past eight whose turn for hot 
 water ? " 
 
 (Where the prgepostor was particular in his ablu- 
 tions, the fags in his room had to descend in turn to 
 the kitchen, and beg or steal hot water for him ; and
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 131 
 
 often the custom extended further, and two boys went 
 down every morning to get a supply for the whole 
 room). 
 
 " East's and Tadpole's," answered the senior fag, who 
 kept the rota. 
 
 " I can't go," said East ; " I'm dead lame." 
 
 " Well, be quick, some of you, that's all," said the 
 great man, as he turned out of bed, and putting on his 
 slippers, went out into the great passage which runs 
 the whole length of the bedrooms, to get his Sunday 
 habiliments out of his portmanteau. 
 
 " Let me go for you," said Tom to East, " I should 
 like it." 
 
 " Well, thank'ee, that's a good fellow. Just pull on 
 your trousers, and take your jug and mine. Tadpole 
 will show you the way." 
 
 And so Tom and the Tadpole, in night-shirts and 
 trousers, started off down stairs, and through " Thos' 
 hole," as the little buttery, where candles and beer 
 and bread and cheese were served out at night, was 
 called ; across the school-house court, down a long 
 passage, and into the kitchen ; where, after some par- 
 ley with the stalwart, handsome cook, who declared 
 that she had filled a dozen jugs already, they got 
 their hot water, and returned with all speed and great 
 caution. As it was, they narrowly escaped capture 
 by some privateers from the fifth form rooms, who 
 were on the look-out for the hot-water convoys, and 
 pursued them up to the very door of their room, mak- 
 ing them spill half their load in the passage. " Better 
 than going down again though," Tadpole remarked 
 " as we should have had to do, if those beggars had 
 caught us." 
 
 By the time that the calling-over bell rang, Tom
 
 132 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 and his new comrades were all down, dressed in their 
 best clothes, and he had the satisfaction of answering 
 "here" to his name for the first time, the praepostor of 
 the week having put it in at the bottom of his list. And 
 then came breakfast, and a saunter about the close and 
 town with East, whose lameness only became severe 
 when any fagging had to be done. And so they whiled 
 away the time until morning chapel. 
 
 It was a fine November morning, and the close soon 
 became alive with boys of all ages, who sauntered about 
 on the grass, or walked round the gravel walk, in 
 parties of two or three. East, still doing the cicerone, 
 pointed out all the remarkable characters to Tom as 
 they passed : Osbert, who could throw a cricket-ball 
 from the little-side ground over the rook trees to the 
 doctor's wall ; Gray, who had got the Balliol scholar- 
 ship, and, what East evidently thought of much more 
 importance, a half-holiday for the school by his suc- 
 cess ; Thome, who had run ten miles in two minutes 
 over the hour ; Black, who had held his own against 
 the cock of the town in the last row with the louts ; 
 and many more heroes, who then and there walked 
 about and were worshiped, all trace of whom has long 
 since vanished from the scene of their fame ; and the 
 fourth-form boy who reads their names rudely cut out 
 on the old hall tables, or painted upon the big 
 side-cupboard (if hall tables, and big side-cupboards, 
 still exist), wonders what manner of boys they were. 
 It will be the same with you who wonder, my sons, 
 whatever your prowess may be, in cricket, or scholar- 
 ship, or football. Two or three years, more or less, 
 and then the steadily advancing, blessed wave will 
 pass over your names as it has passed over ours. Nev- 
 ertheless, play your games and do your work manfully
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 133 
 
 see only that that be done, and let the remembrance 
 of it take care of itself. 
 
 The chapel-bell began to ring at a quarter to eleven, 
 and Tom got in early and took his place in the lowest 
 row, and watched all the other boys come in and take 
 their places, filling row after row : and tried to con- 
 strue the Greek text which was inscribed over the door 
 with the slightest possible success, and wondered which 
 of the masters, who walked down the chapel and took 
 their seats in the exalted boxes at the end, would be 
 his lord. And then came the closing of the doors, and 
 the doctor in his robes, and the service, which, how- 
 ever, didn't impress him much, for his feeling of won- 
 der and curiosity was too strong. And the boy on one 
 side of him was scratching his name on the oak panel- 
 ing in front, and he couldn't help watching to see 
 what the name was, and whether it was well scratched ; 
 and the boy on the other side went to sleep and kept 
 falling against him ; and on the whole, though many 
 boys even in that part of the school were serious and 
 attentive, the general atmosphere was by no means 
 devotional ; and when he got out into the close again, 
 he didn't feel at all comfortable, or as if he had been 
 to church. 
 
 But at afternoon chapel it was quite another thing. 
 He had spent the time after dinner in writing home to 
 his mother, and so was in a better frame of mind ; and 
 his first curiosity was over, and he could attend more 
 to the service. As the h\ r mn after the prayers w r as be- 
 ing sung, and the chapel was getting a little dark, he 
 was beginning to feel that he had been really worship- 
 ing. And then came that great event in his, as in 
 every Rugby boy's life of that day the first sermon 
 from the doctor.
 
 134 TOM BROWNS SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 More worthy pens than mine have described that 
 scene. The oak pulpit standing out by itself above the 
 school seats. The tall gallant form, the kindling eye, 
 the voice, now soft as the low notes of a flute, now 
 clear and stirring as the call of the light infantry bugle, 
 of him who stood there Sunday after Sunday, witness- 
 ing and pleading for his Lord, the King of righteous- 
 ness and love and glory, with whose spirit he was filled, 
 and in whose power he spoke. The long lines of young 
 faces, rising tier above tier down the whole length of 
 the chapel, from the little boy's who had just left his 
 mother to the young man's who was going out next 
 week into the great world rejoicing in his strength. 
 It was a great and solemn sight, and never more so 
 than at this time of year, when the only lights in the 
 chapel were in the pulpit and at the seats of the prae- 
 posters of the week, and the soft twilight stole over 
 the rest of the chapel, deepening into darkness in the 
 high gallery behind the organ. 
 
 But what was it after all which seized and held 
 these three hundred boys, dragging them out of them- 
 selves, willing or unwilling, for twenty minutes, on 
 Sunday afternoon ? True, there always were boys 
 scattered up and down the school, who in heart and 
 head were worthy to hear and able to carry away the 
 deepest and wisest words there spoken. But these 
 were a minority always, generally a very small one, 
 often so small a one as to be countable on the fingers 
 of your hand. What was it that moved and held us, 
 the rest of the three hundred reckless, childish boys, 
 who feared the doctor with all our hearts, and very 
 little besides in heaven or earth : who thought more of 
 our sets in the school than of the Church of Christ, 
 and put the traditions of Rugby and the public op in-
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 135 
 
 ion of boys in our daily life above the laws of God ? 
 We couldn't enter into half that we heard ; we hadn't 
 the knowledge of our own hearts or the knowledge of 
 one another ; and little enough of the faith, hope, and 
 love needed to that end. But we listened, as all boys 
 in their better moods will listen (aye, and men too, for 
 the matter of that), to a man who we felt to be, with 
 all his heart and soul and strength, striving against 
 whatever was mean and unmanly and unrighteous in 
 our little world. It was not the cold clear voice of one 
 giving advice and warning from serene heights to those 
 who were struggling and sinning below, but the warm, 
 living voice of one who was fighting for us and by our 
 sides, and calling on us to help him and ourselves and 
 one another. And so, wearily and little by little, but 
 surely and steadily on the whole, was brought home 
 to the young boy for the first time, the meaning of his 
 life : that it was no fool's or sluggard's paradise into 
 which he had wandered by chance, but a battle-field 
 ordained from of old, where there are no spectators, 
 but the youngest must take his side, and the stakes are 
 life and death. And he who roused his consciousness 
 in them showed them at the same time, by every word 
 he spoke in the pulpit, and by his whole daily life, how 
 that battle was to be fought ; and stood there before 
 them their fellow soldier and the captain of their band. 
 The true sort of captain, too, for a boy's army, one 
 who had no misgivings and gave no uncertain word of 
 command, and, let who would yield or make a truce, 
 would fight the fight out (so every boy felt) to the last 
 gasp and the last drop of blood. Other sides of his 
 character might take hold of and influence boys here 
 and there, but it was this thoroughness and undaunted 
 courage which more than anything else won his way
 
 136 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 to the hearts of the great mass of those on whom he 
 left his mark, and made them believe first in him, and 
 then in his Master. 
 
 It Avas this quality above all others which moved 
 such boys as our hero, who had nothing whatever 
 remarkable about him except excess of boyishness ; by 
 which I mean animal life in its fullest measure, good 
 nature and honest impulses, hatred of injustice and 
 meaness, and thoughtlessness enought to sink a three- 
 decker. And so, during the next two years, in which 
 it was more than doubtful whether he would get good 
 or evil from the school, and before any steady purpose 
 or principle grew up in him, whatever his week's sins 
 and shortcomings might have been, he hardly ever left 
 the chapel on Sunday evenings without a serious re- 
 solve to stand by and follow the doctor, and a feeling 
 that it was only cowardice (the incarnation of all other 
 sins in such a boy's mind) which hindered him from 
 doing so with all his heart. 
 
 The next day Tom was duly placed in the third 
 form, and began his lessons in a corner of the big 
 school, lie found the work very easy, as he had been 
 well grounded, and knew his grammar by heart; and, 
 as he had no intimate companion to make him idle 
 (East and his other school-house friends being in the 
 lower fourth, the form above him), soon gained golden 
 opinions from his master, who said he was placed too 
 low, and should be put out at the end of the half-year. 
 So all went well with him in school, and he wrote the 
 most flourishing letters home to his mother, full of his 
 success and the unspeakable delights of a public 
 school. 
 
 In the house, too, all went well. The end of the 
 half-year was drawing near, which kept everybody in
 
 THE NIGHT FAG.
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 137 
 
 a good humor, and the house was ruled well and 
 strongly by Warner and Brooke. True, the general 
 system was rough and hard, and there was bullying in 
 nooks and corners, bad signs for the future : but it 
 never got further, or dared show itself openly, stalking 
 about the passages and hall and bedrooms, and making 
 the life of the small boys a continual fear. 
 
 Tom, as a new boy, was of right excused fagging for 
 the first month, but in his enthusiam for his new life 
 this privilege hardly pleased him ; and East and others 
 of his young friends discovering this, kindly allowed 
 him to indulge his fancy, and take their turns at night 
 fagging and cleaning studies. These were the princi- 
 pal duties of the fags in the house. From supper until 
 nine o'clock, three fags taken in order stood in the 
 passages, and answered any praspostor who called Fag, 
 racing to the door, the last comer having to do the 
 work. This consisted generally of going to the buttery 
 for beer and bread and cheese (for the great men did 
 not sup with the rest, but had each his own allowance 
 in his study or the fifth-form room), cleaning candle- 
 sticks and putting in new candles, toasting cheese, 
 bottling beer, and carrying messages about the house; 
 and Tom, in the first blush of his hero-worship, felt it 
 a high privilege to receive orders from, and be the 
 bearer of, the supper of old Brooke. And besides this 
 night- work, each praaposter had three or four fags 
 specially allotted to him, of whom he was supposed to 
 be the guide, philosopher, and friend, and who in return 
 for these good offices had to clean out his study every 
 morning by turns, directly after first lesson and before 
 he returned from breakfast. And the pleasure of see- 
 ing the great men's studies, and looking at their pic- 
 tures, and peeping into their books, made Tom a ready
 
 Io8 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 substitute for any boy who was too lazy to do his own 
 work. And so he soon gained the character of a good- 
 natured, willing fellow, who was ready to do a turn 
 for any one. 
 
 In all the games too he joined with all his heart 
 and soon became well versed in all the mysteries of 
 football, by continued practice at the school-house 
 little-side, which played daily. 
 
 The only incident worth recording here, however, 
 was his first run at hare-and-hounds. On the last 
 Tuesday but one of the half-year he was passing 
 through the hall after dinner, when he was hailed with 
 shouts from Tadpole and several other fags seated at 
 one of the long tables, the chorus of which was " Come 
 and help us tear up scent." 
 
 Tom approached the table in obedience to the mys- 
 terious summons, always ready to help, and found the 
 party engaged in tearing up old newspapers, copy- 
 books, and magazines, into small pieces, with which 
 they were filling four large canvas bags. 
 
 " It's the turn of our house to find scent for big-side 
 hare-and-hounds," exclaimed Tadpole ; " tear away, 
 there's no time to lose before calling-over." 
 
 " I think it's a great shame," said another small 
 boy, " to have such a hard run for the last day." 
 
 "Which run is it?" said Tadpole. 
 
 " Oh, the Barby run, I hear," answered the other; 
 " nine miles at least, and hard ground ; no chance of 
 getting in at the finish, unless you're a first rate 
 scud." 
 
 " Well, I'm going to have a try," said Tadpole ; 
 " it's the last run of the half, and if a fellow gets in at 
 the end, big-side stands ale and bread and cheese, and 
 a bowl of punch ; and the Cock's such a famous place 
 for ale,"
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 139 
 
 " I should like to try too," said Tom. 
 
 " Well then, leave your waistcoat behind, and listen 
 at the door, after calling-over, and you'll hear where 
 the meet is." 
 
 After calling-over, sure enough, there were two boys 
 at the door, calling out, " Big-side hare-and-hounds 
 meet at White Hall ; " and Tom, having girded himself 
 with leather strap, and left all superfluous clothing be- 
 hind, set off for White Hall, an old gable-ended house 
 some quarter of a mile from town, with East, whom 
 he had persuaded to join, notwithstanding his prophecy 
 that they could never get in, as it was the hardest run 
 of the year. 
 
 At the meet they found some forty or fifty boys, and 
 Tom felt sure, from having seen many of them run at 
 football, that he and East were more likely to get in 
 than they. 
 
 After a few minutes' waiting, two well-known run- 
 ners, chosen for the hares, buckled on the four bags 
 filled with scent, compared their watches with those of 
 young Brooke and Thorne, and started off at a long 
 slinging trot across the fields in the direction of 
 Barby. 
 
 Then the hounds clustered round Thorne, who ex- 
 plained shortly, " They're to have six minutes' law. 
 We run into the Cock, and every one who comes in 
 within a quarter of an hour of the hares'll be counted, 
 if he has been round Barby church." Then came a 
 minute's pause or so, and then the watches are pocketed 
 and the pack is led through the gateway into the field 
 which the hares had first crossed. Here they break 
 into a trot, scattering over the field to find the first 
 traces of the scent which the hares throw out as they 
 go along. The old hounds make straight for the likely
 
 140 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 points, and in a minute a cry of " forward " comes 
 from one of them, and the whole pack quickening 
 their pace make for the spot, while the boy who hit 
 the scent first and the two or three nearest to hi in are 
 over the first fence, and making play along the hedge- 
 row in the long grass-field beyond. The rest of the 
 pack rush at the gap already made, and scramble 
 through, jostling one another. " Forward " again be- 
 fore they are half through ; the pace quickens into a 
 sharp run, the tail hounds all straining to get up with 
 the lucky leaders. They are gallant hares, and the 
 scent lies thick right across another meadow and into 
 a plowed field, where the pace begins to tell; and then 
 over a good wattle with a ditch on the other side, and 
 down a large pasture studded with old thorns, which 
 slopes down to the first brook; the great Leicester- 
 shire sheep charge away across the field as the pack 
 comes racing down the slope. The brook is a small 
 one, and the scent lies right ahead up the opposite 
 slope, and as thick as ever; not a turn or a check to 
 favor the tail hounds, who strain on, now trailing in a 
 long line, many a youngster beginning to drag his legs 
 heavily, and feel his heart beat like a hammer, and the 
 bad plucked ones thinking that after all it isn't worth 
 while to keep it up. 
 
 Tom, East and the Tadpole had a good start, and 
 are well up for such young hands, and after rising the 
 slope and crossing the next field, find themselves up 
 with the leading hounds, who have over-run the scent 
 and are trying back ; they have come a mile and a half 
 in about eleven minutes, a pace which shows that it is 
 the last day. About twenty-five of the original start- 
 ers only show here, the rest having already given in ; 
 the leaders are busy making casts into the fields on the
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 141 
 
 left and right, and the others get their second winds. 
 Then comes the cry of "forward" again, from young 
 Brooke, from the extreme left, and the pack settles 
 down to work again steadily and doggedly, the whole 
 keeping pretty well together. The scent, though still 
 good, is not so thick ; there is no need of that, for in 
 this part of the run every one knows the line which 
 must be taken, and so there are no casts to made, but 
 good downright running and fencing to be done. All 
 who are now up mean coming in, and they come to 
 the foot of Barby Hill without losing more than two 
 or three more of the pack. This last straight two 
 miles and a half is always a vantage ground for the 
 hounds,and the hares know it well ; they are generally 
 viewed on the side of Barby II ill, and all eyes are on 
 the look-out for them to-day. But not a sign of them 
 appears, so now will be the hard work for the hounds, 
 and there is nothing for it but to cast about for the 
 scent, for it is now the hare's turn, and they may baffle 
 the pack dreadfully in the next two miles. 
 
 Ill fares it now with our youngsters that they are 
 school-house boys, and so follow young Brooke, for he 
 takes the wide casts round to the left, conscious of his 
 own powers, and loving the hard work. For if you 
 would consider for a moment, you small boys, you 
 would remember that the Cock, where the run ends, 
 and the good ale will be going, lies far out to the right 
 on the Dunchurch road, so that every cast you take to 
 the left is so much extra work. And at this stage of 
 the run, when the evening is closing in already, no one 
 remarks whether you run a little cunning or not, so 
 you should stick to those crafty hounds who keep edg- 
 ing away to the right, and not follow a prodigal like 
 young Brooke, whose legs are twice as long as yours
 
 142 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 and of cast-iron, wholly indifferent to two or three 
 miles more or less. However, they struggle after him, 
 sobbing and plunging along, Tom and East pretty 
 close, and Tadpole, whose big head begins to pull him 
 down, some thirty yards behind. 
 
 Now comes a brook, with stiff clay banks, from which 
 they can hardly drag their legs, and they hear faint 
 cries for help from the wretched Tadpole, who has 
 fairly stuck fast. But they have too little run left in 
 themselves to pull up for their own brothers. Three 
 fields more, and another check, and then " forward " 
 called away to the extreme right. 
 
 The two boys' souls die within them ; they can never 
 do it. Young Brooke thinks so too, and says kindly, 
 " You'll cross a lane after next field, keep down it, 
 and you'll hit the Dunchurch road below the Cock," 
 and then steams away for the run in, in which he's 
 sure to be first, as if he were just starting. They 
 struggle on across the next field, the "forwards" 
 getting fainter and fainter, and then ceasing. The 
 whole hunt is out of ear-shot, and all hope of coming 
 in is over. 
 
 " Hang it all ! " broke out East, as soon as he had 
 got wind enough, pulling off his hat and mopping at 
 his face, all spattered with dirt and lined with sweat, 
 from which went up a thick steam into the still cold 
 air. " I told you how it Avould be. "What a thick 
 I was to come ! Here we are dead beat, and yet 
 I know we're close to the run in, if we knew the 
 country." 
 
 "Well," said Tom mopping away, and gulping 
 down his disappointment, "it can't be helped. We 
 did our best anyhow. Hadn't we better find this 
 lane, and go down it, as young Brooke told us f "
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL t)AY9. 143 
 
 " I suppose so nothing else for it," grunted East. 
 "If ever I go out last day again," growl growl 
 growl. 
 
 So they tried back slowly and sorrowfully, and found 
 the lane, and went limping down it, plashing in the 
 cold puddly ruts, and beginning to feel how the run 
 had taken it out of them. The evening closed in fast, 
 and clouded over, dark, cold, and dreary. 
 
 "I say, it must be locking-up, I should think," 
 remarked East, breaking the silence ; " it's so dark." 
 
 " What if we're late ? " said Tom. 
 
 "No tea, and sent up to the doctor," answered 
 East. 
 
 The thought didn't add to their cheerfulness. Pre- 
 sently a faint halloo was heard from an adjoining Held. 
 They answered it and stopped, hoping for some compe- 
 tent rustic to guide them, when over a gate some twenty 
 yards ahead crawled the wretched Tadpole, in a state 
 of collapse ; he had lost a shoe in the brook, and been 
 groping after it up to his elbows in the stiff wet clay, 
 and a more miserable creature in the shape of a boy 
 seldom has been seen. 
 
 The sight of him, notwithstanding, cheered them, for 
 he was some degrees more wretched than they. They 
 also cheered him, as he was now no longer under the 
 dread of passing his night alone in the fields. And so 
 in better heart, the three plashed painfully down the 
 never-ending lane. At last it widened, just as utter 
 darkness set in, and they come out on to a turnpike- 
 road, and there paused, bewildered, for they had lost 
 bearings, and knew not whether to turn to the right or 
 left. 
 
 Luckily for them they had not to decide, for lumber- 
 ing along the road, with one lamp lighted, and two
 
 144 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL GAYS. 
 
 spavined horses in the shafts, came a heavy coach, which 
 after a moment's suspense they recognized as the Ox- 
 ford coach, the redoubtable Pig and Whistle. 
 
 It lumbered slowly up, and the boys mustering 
 their last run, caught it as it passed, and began 
 scrambling up behind, in which exploit East missed 
 his footing and fell flat on his nose along the road. 
 Then the others hailed the old scarecrow of a coach- 
 man, who pulled up and agreed to take them in for a 
 shilling; so there they sat on the back seat, drubbing 
 with their heels, and their teeth chattering with cold, 
 and jogged into Rugby some focty minutes after lock- 
 ing up. 
 
 Five minutes afterward, three small limping, shiver- 
 ing figures steal along through the doctor's garden, 
 and into the house by the servants' entrance (all the 
 other gates have been closed long since), where the 
 first thing they light upon in the passage is old 
 Thomas, ambling along, candle in one hand and ke}^s 
 in the other. 
 
 He stops and examines their condition with a grim 
 smile. " Ah, East, Hall, and Brown, late for locking up. 
 Must go up to the doctor's study at once." 
 
 "Well but, Thomas, mayn't we go and wash first? 
 You can put down the time, you know." 
 
 "Doctor's study d'rectly you come in that's the 
 orders," replied old Thomas, motioning toward the 
 stairs at the end of the passage which led up into the 
 doctor's house ; and the boys turned ruefully down it, 
 not cheered by the old verger's muttered remark, 
 " What a pickle they boys be in ! " Thomas referred 
 to their faces and habiliments, but they construed it as 
 indicating the doctor's state of mind. Upon the short 
 flight of stairs thoy paused to hold counsel.
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 145 
 
 " Who'll go in first ? " inquires Tadpole. 
 
 " You you're the senior," answered East. 
 
 " Catch me look at the state I'm in," rejoined Hall, 
 showing the arms of his jacket. " I must get behind 
 you two." 
 
 "Well, but look at me," said East, indicating the 
 mass of clay behind which he was standing ; " I'm worse 
 than you, two to one ; you might grow cabbages on my 
 trousers." 
 
 " That's all down below, and you can keep your legs 
 behind the sofa," said Hall. 
 
 "Here, Brown, you're the show figure you must 
 lead." 
 
 " But my face is all muddy," argued Tom. 
 
 "Oh, we're all in one boat for that matter ; but come 
 on, we're only making it worse, dawdling here." 
 
 " Well, just give us a brush then," said Tom ; and 
 they began trying to rub off the superfluous dirt from 
 each other's jackets, but it was not dry enough, and 
 the rubbing made it worse; so in despair they pushed 
 through the swing door at the head of the stairs, and 
 found themselves in the doctor's hall. 
 
 " That's the library door," said East in a whisper, 
 pushing Tom forward. The sound of merry voices 
 and laughing came from within, and his first hesitat- 
 ing knock was unanswered. But at the second, the 
 doctor's voice said " Come in," and Tom turned the 
 handle, and he, with the others behind him, sidled into 
 the room. 
 
 The doctor looked up from his task ; he was working 
 away with a great chisel at the bottom of a boy's sail- 
 ing boat, the lines of which he was no doubt fashioning 
 on the model of one of Nicias' galleys. Round him 
 stood three or four children; the candles burned brightly
 
 14G TOM BROWN S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 on a large table at the further end covered with books 
 and papers, and a great fire threw a ruddy glow over 
 the rest of the room. All looked so kindly, and 
 homely, and comfortable, that the boys took heart in 
 a moment, and Tom advanced from behind the shelter 
 of the great sofa. The doctor nodded to the children, 
 who went out, casting curious and amused glances at 
 the three young scarecrows. 
 
 " Well, my little fellows," began the doctor, drawing 
 himself up with his back to the fire, the chisel in one 
 hand and his coat-tails in the other, and his eyes 
 twinkling as he looked them over ; " what makes you 
 so late 2 " 
 
 "Please, sir, we've been out big-side hare-and- 
 hounds, and lost our way." 
 
 " Hah ! you couldn't keep up, I suppose ? " 
 
 " Well, sir," said East, stepping out, and not liking 
 that the doctor should think lightly of his running 
 powers, " we got round Barby all right, but then 
 
 " Why, what a state you're in, my boy ! " interrupted 
 the doctor, as the pitiful condition of East's garments 
 was fully revealed to him. 
 
 " That's the fall I got, sir, in the road," said East, 
 looking down at himself ; " the Old Pig came by " 
 
 " The what ? " said the doctor. 
 
 11 The Oxford coach, sir," explained Hall. 
 
 " Hah ! yes, the Kegulator," said the doctor. 
 
 "And I tumbled on my face trying to get up be- 
 hind," went on East. 
 
 "You're not hurt, I hope?" said the doctor. 
 
 " Oh no, sir." 
 
 "Well now, run up-stairs, all three of you, and get 
 clean things on, and then tell the housekeeper to give 
 you some tea. You're too young to try such long runs. 
 Let Warner know I've seen you. Good-night,"
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 147 
 
 " Good-night, sir." And away scuttled the three 
 boys in high glee. 
 
 " What a brick, not to give us even twenty lines to 
 learn ! " said the Tadpole, as they reached their bed- 
 room ; and in half-an-hour afterward they were sitting 
 by the fire in the housekeeper's room at a sumptuous 
 tea, with cold meat, " twice as good a grub as we should 
 have got in the hall," as the Tadpole remarked with a 
 grin, his mouth full of buttered toast. All their griev- 
 ances forgotten, and they were resolving to go out 
 the first big-side next half, and thinking hare-and- 
 hounds the most delightful of games. 
 
 A day or two afterward the great passage outside 
 the bedrooms was cleared of the boxes and portman- 
 teaus, which went down to be packed by the matron, 
 and great games of chariot-racing, and cock-fighting, 
 and bolstering, went on in the vacant space, the sure 
 sign of a closing half-year. 
 
 Then came the making-up of parties for the journey 
 home, and Tom joined a party who were to hire a 
 coach, and post with four horses to Oxford. 
 
 Then the last Saturday, on which the doctor came 
 round to each form to give out the prizes, and hear the 
 masters' last reports of how they and their charges had 
 been conducting themselves ; and Tom, to his huge 
 delight, was praised, and got his remove into the lower- 
 fourth, in which all his school-house friends were. 
 
 On the next Tuesday morning, at four o'clock, hot 
 coffee was going on in the housekeeper's and matron's 
 rooms ; boys wrapped in great coats and mufflers w r ere 
 swallowing hasty mouthfuls, rushing about, tumbling 
 over luggage, and asking questions all at once of the 
 matron ; outside the school gates were drawn up several 
 chaises and the four-horse coach which Tom's party
 
 148 TOM BROWN S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 had chartered, the post boys in their best jackets and 
 breeches, and a cornopean player, hired for the occasion 
 blowing away " A southerly wind and a cloudy sky," 
 waking all peaceful inhabitants half-way down the High 
 street. 
 
 Every minute the bustle and hubbub increased, 
 porters staggered about with boxes and bags, the cor- 
 nopean played louder. Old Thomas sat in his den with 
 a great yellow bag by his side, out of which he was 
 paying journey money to each boy, comparing by the 
 light of a solitary dip the dirty crabbed little list in his 
 own handwriting with the doctor's list, and the amount 
 of his cash ; his head was on one side, his mouth screwed 
 up, and his spectacles dim from early toil. He had 
 prudently locked the door, and carried on his operations 
 solely through the window, or he would have been 
 driven wild, and lost all his money. 
 
 " Thomas, do be quick, we shall never catch the 
 Highflyer at Dunchurch." 
 
 " That's your money, all right Green." 
 
 " Hullo, Thomas, the doctor said I was to have two- 
 pound-ten ; you've only given me two pound." (I fear 
 that Master Green is not confining himself strictly to 
 truth). Thomas turns his head more on one side than 
 ever, and spells away at the dirty list. Green is forced 
 away from the window. 
 
 "Here, Thomas, never mind him, mine's thirty 
 shillings," "And mine too," "and mine," shouted 
 others. 
 
 One way or another, the party to which Tom be- 
 longed all got packed and paid, and sallied out to the 
 gates the cornopean playing frantically " Drops of 
 brandy," in allusion, probably, to the slight potations 
 in which the musician and post-boys had been already
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 149 
 
 indulging. All luggage was carefully stowed away in- 
 side the coach and in the front and hind boots, so that 
 not a hat-box was visible outside. Five or six small 
 boys, with pea-shooters, and the cornopean player, got 
 up behind; in front the big boys, mostly smoking, 
 not for pleasure, but because they are now gentlemen 
 at large and this is the most correct public method of 
 notifying the fact. 
 
 "Robinson's coach will be down the road in a 
 minute, it has gone up to Bird's to pick up we'll 
 wait till they're close, and make a race of it," says 
 the leader. "Now boys, half-a-sovereign apiece 
 if you beat 'em into Dunchurch, by one hundred 
 yards." 
 
 " All right, sir," shouted the grinning post-boys. 
 
 Down comes Robinson's coach in a minute or two 
 with a rival cornopean, and away go the two vehicles, 
 horses galloping, boys cheering, horns playing loud. 
 There is a special providence over school-boys as well 
 as sailors, or they must have upset twenty times in the 
 first five miles; sometimes actually abreast of one 
 another, and the boys on the roofs exchanging volleys of 
 peas, now nearly running over a post-chaise which had 
 started before them, now half-way up a bank, now 
 with a wheel-and-a half over a yawning ditch ; and all 
 this in a dark morning, with nothing but their own 
 lamps to guide them. However, it's all over at last, 
 and they have run over nothing but an old pig in 
 Southam street ; the last peas are distributed in the 
 corn market at Oxford, where they arrive between 
 eleven and twelve, and sit down to a sumptuous break- 
 fast at the Angel, which they are made to pay for 
 accordingly. Here the party breaks up, all going now 
 different ways ; and Tom orders out a chaise and pair
 
 ISO TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 as grand as a lord, though he has scarcely five shillings 
 left in his pocket and more than twenty miles to get 
 home. 
 
 "Whereto, sir?" 
 
 " Red Lion, Farringdon," says Tom, giving ostler a 
 shilling. 
 
 " All right, sir. Red Lion, Jem," to the post-boy, 
 and Tom rattles away toward home. At Farringdon, 
 being known to the innkeeper, he gets that worthy to 
 pay for the Oxford horses, and forward him in another 
 chaise at once ; and so the gorgeous young gentleman 
 arrives at the paternal mansion, and Squire Brown 
 looks rather blue at having to pay two-pound ten- 
 shillings for the posting expenses from Oxford. But 
 the boy's intense joy at getting home, and the wonder- 
 ful health he is in, and the good character he brings, 
 and the brave stories he tells of Rugby, its doings and 
 delights, soon mollify the squire, and three happier 
 people didn't sit down to dinner that day in England 
 (it is the boy's first dinner at six o'clock at home, great 
 promotion already), than the squire and his wife and 
 Tom Brown at the end of his first half-year at Rugby.
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 151 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE WAR OF INDEPENDENCE. 
 
 " They are slaves who will not choose 
 Hatred, scoffing, and abuse, 
 Rather than in silence shrink 
 From the truth they needs must think: 
 They are slaves who dare not be 
 In the right with two or three." 
 
 LOWELL, Stanzas on Freedom. 
 
 THE lower-fourth, form, in which Tom found himself 
 at the beginning of the next half year, was the largest 
 form in the lower school, and numbered upward of 
 forty boys. Young gentlemen of all ages from nine to 
 fifteen, were to be found there, who expended such 
 part of their energies as was devoted to Latin and 
 Greek upon a book of Livy, the Bucolics of Virgil, and 
 the Hecuba of Euripides, which were ground out in 
 small daily portions. The driving of this unlucky 
 lower-fourth must have been grievous work to the un- 
 fortunate master, for it was the most unhappily con- 
 stituted of any in the school. Here stuck the great 
 stupid boys, who for the life of them could never 
 master the accidence ; the objects alternately of mirth, 
 and terror to the youngsters, who were daily taking 
 them up and laughing at them in lesson, and getting 
 kicked by them for so doing in play-hours. There were 
 no less than three unhappy fellows in tail coats, with 
 incipient down on their chins, whom the doctor
 
 152 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 the master of the form were always endeavoring to 
 hoist into the upper school, but whose parsing and 
 construing resisted the most well-meant shoves. Then 
 came the mass of the form, boys of eleven and twelve, 
 the most mischievous and reckless age of British youth, 
 of whom East and Tom Brown were fair specimens. 
 As full of tricks as monkeys, and of excuses as Irish 
 women, making fun of their master, one another, and 
 their lessons, Argus himself would have been puzzled 
 to keep on eye on them ; and as for making them 
 steady or serious for half an hour together, it was sim- 
 ply hopeless. The remainder of the form consisted of 
 young prodigies of nine and ten, who were going up 
 the school at the rate of a form a half-year, all boys' 
 hands and wits being against them in their progress. 
 It would have been one man's work to see that the 
 precocious youngsters had fair play ; and as the master 
 had a good deal besides to do, they hadn't, and were 
 forever being shoved down three or four places, 
 their verses stolen, their books inked, their jackets 
 whitened, and their lives otherwise made a burden to 
 them. 
 
 The lower-fourth, and all the forms below it, were 
 heard in the great school, and were not trusted to 
 prepare their lessons before coming in, but were 
 whipped into school three-quarters of an hour before 
 the lesson began by their respective masters, and 
 there scattered about on the benches, with dictionary 
 and grammar, hammered out their twenty lines of 
 Virgil and Euripides in the midst of Babel. The mas- 
 ters of the lower school walked up and down the 
 great school together during this three-quarters of an 
 hour, or sat in their desks reading or looking over 
 copies, and keeping such order as was possible. But
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 153 
 
 the lower-fourth was just now an overgrown form, too 
 large for any one man to attend to properly, and con- 
 sequently the elysium or ideal form of the young 
 scapegraces who formed the staple of it. 
 
 Tom as has been said, had come up from the third 
 with a good character, but the temptations of the 
 lower-fourth soon proved too strong for him, and he 
 rapidly fell away ; and became as unmanageable as 
 the rest. For some weeks, indeed, he succeeded in 
 maintaining the appearance of steadiness, and was 
 looked upon favorably by his new master, whose eyes 
 were first opened by the following little incident. 
 
 Besides the desk which the master himself occupied, 
 there was another large unoccupied desk in the corner 
 of the great school, which was untenanted. To rush 
 and seize upon this desk, which was ascended by three 
 steps, and held four boys, was the great object of am- 
 bition of the lower fourthers ; and the contentions for 
 the occupation of it bred such disorder, that at last the 
 master forbade its use altogether. This of course was 
 a challenge to the more adventurous spirits to occupy 
 it, and as it was capacious enough for two boys to lie 
 hid there completely, it was seldom that it remained 
 empty, notwithstanding the veto. Small holes were 
 cut in the front, through which the occupants watched 
 the masters as they walked up and down, and as lesson 
 time approached, one boy at a time stole out and down 
 the steps, as the masters' backs were turned, and min- 
 gled with the general crowd on the forms below. Tom 
 and East had successfully occupied the desk some half 
 dozen times, and were grown so reckless that they were 
 in the habit of playing small games with fives'-balls 
 inside when the masters were at the other end of the 
 big school. One day, as ill-luck would have it, the
 
 154 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 game became more exciting than usual and the ball 
 slipped through East's fingers, and rolled slowly down 
 the steps, and out into the middle of the school, just as 
 the masters turned in their walk and faced round upon 
 the desk. The young delinquents watched their master 
 through the look-out holes, march slowly down the 
 school straight upon their retreat, while all the boys in 
 the neighborhood of course stopped their work to look 
 on ; and not only were they ignominiously drawn out 
 and caned over the hand then and there, but their 
 characters for steadiness were gone from that time. 
 However, as they only shared the fate of some three 
 fourths of the rest of the form, this did not weigh 
 heavily upon them. 
 
 In fact, the only occasions on which they cared about 
 the matter were the monthly examinations, when the 
 doctor came round to examine their form, for one long 
 awful hour, in the work which they had done in the 
 preceding month. The second monthly examination 
 came round soon after Tom's fall, and it was with 
 anything but lively anticipations that he and the other 
 lower-fourth boys came in to prayers on the morning 
 of the examination day. 
 
 , Prayers and calling-over seemed twice as short as 
 usual, and before they could get construes of a tithe 
 of the hard passages marked in the margin of their 
 books, they were all seated round, and the doctor 
 was standing in the middle, talking in w r hispers to 
 the master. Tom couldn't hear a word which passed, 
 and never lifted his eyes from his book ; but he knew 
 by a sort of magnetic instinct that the doctor's under 
 lip was coming out, and his eye beginning to burn, 
 and his gown getting gathered up more and more 
 tightly in his left hand. The suspense was
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 155 
 
 ing, and Tom. knew that he was sure on such oc- 
 casions to make an example of the school-house boys. 
 " If he would only begin," thought Tom, " I shouldn't 
 mind." 
 
 At last the whispering ceased, and the name which 
 was called out was not Brown. He looked up for a 
 moment, but the doctor's face was too awful; Tom 
 wouldn't have met his eye for all he was worth, and 
 buried himself in his book again. 
 
 The boy who was called up first was a clever, merry 
 school-house boy, one of their set : he was some con- 
 nection of the doctor's, and a great favorite, and ran 
 in and out of his house as he liked, and so was selected 
 for the first victim. 
 
 " Triste lupus, stdbulis^ began the luckless youngster, 
 and stammered through some eight or ten lines. 
 
 " There, that will do," said the doctor ; " now 
 construe." 
 
 On common occasions, the boy could have construed 
 the passage well enough probably, but now his head 
 was gone. 
 
 " Triste lupus, the sorrowful wolf," he began. 
 
 A shudder ran through the whole form, and the 
 doctor's wrath fairly boiled over ; he made three steps 
 up to the construer, and gave him a good box on the 
 ear. The blow was not a hard one, but the boy was 
 so taken by surprise that he started back ; the form 
 caught the back of his knees, and over he went on to 
 the floor behind. There was a dead silence over the 
 whole school ; never before, and never again while Tom 
 was at school did the doctor strike a boy in lesson. 
 The provocation must have been great. However, the 
 victim had saved his form for that occasion, for the 
 doctor turned to the top bench, and put on the best
 
 156 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 boys for the rest of the hour ; and though, at the end 
 of the lesson, he gave them all such a rating as they 
 did not forget, this terrible field-day passed over with- 
 out any severe visitations in the shape of punishments 
 or floggings. Forty young scapegraces expressed their 
 thanks to the "sorrowful wolf " in their different ways 
 before second lesson. 
 
 But a character for steadiness once gone is not easily 
 recovered, as Tom found, and for years afterward he 
 went up to the school without it, and the masters' 
 hands were against him, and his against them. And 
 he regarded them, as a matter of course, as his natural 
 enemies. Matters were not so comfortable either in 
 the house as they had been, for old Brooke left at 
 Christmas, and one or two others of the sixth-form boys 
 at the following Easter. Their rule had been rough, 
 but strong and just in the main, and a higher standard 
 was beginning to be set up ; in fact, there had been a 
 short foretaste of the good time which followed some 
 years later. Just now, however, all threatened to re- 
 turn into darkness and chaos again. For the new pra?- 
 postors were either small young boys, whose cleverness 
 had carried them up to the top of the school, while in 
 strength of body and character they were not yet fit 
 for a share in the government ; or else big fellows of 
 the wrong sort, boys whose friendships and tastes had 
 a downward tendency, who had not caught the mean- 
 ing of their position and work, and felt none of its 
 responsibilities. So under this no-government the 
 school-house began to see bad times. The big fifth- 
 form boys, who were a sporting and drinking set, soon 
 began to usurp power, and to fag the little boys as if 
 they were praepostors, and to bully and oppress any 
 who showed signs of resistance. The bigger sort
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 157 
 
 of sixth-form boys just described soon made common 
 cause with the fifth, while the smaller sort, hampered 
 by their colleagues' desertion to the enemy, could not 
 make head against them. So the fags were without 
 their lawful masters and protectors, and ridden over 
 rough-shod by a set of boys whom they were not bound 
 to obey, and whose only right over them stood in their 
 bodily powers ; and, as old Brooke had prophesied, the 
 house by degrees broke up into small sets and parties, 
 and lost the strong feeling of fellowship which he set 
 so much store by, and with it much of the prowess in 
 games and the lead in all school matters which he had 
 done so much to keep up. 
 
 In no place in the world has individual character 
 more weight than at a public school. Remember this, 
 I beseech you, all you boys who are getting into the 
 upper forms. Now is the time in all your lives pro- 
 bably when you may have more wide influence for 
 good or evil on the society you live in than you ever 
 can have again. Quit yourselves like men, then ; speak 
 up, and strike out if necessary for whatsoever is true, 
 and manly, and lovely, and of good report ; never try 
 to be popular, but only to do your duty and help 
 others to do theirs, and you may leave the tone of feel- 
 ing in the school higher than you found it, and so be 
 doing good, which no living soul can measure, to gen- 
 erations of your countrymen yet unborn. For boys 
 follow one another in herds like sheep, for good or 
 evil ; they hate thinking, and have rarely any settled 
 principles. Every school, indeed, has its own tradi- 
 tionary standard of right and wrong, which cannot be 
 transgressed with impunity, marking certain things as 
 low and blackguard, and certain others as lawful and 
 right. This standard is ever varying, though it changes
 
 158 TOM BROWN S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 only slowly, and little by little ; and, subject only to 
 such standard, it is the leading boys for the time being 
 who give the tone to all the rest, and make the school 
 either a noble institution for the training of Christian 
 Englishmen, or a place where a young boy will get 
 more evil than he would if he were turned out to make 
 his way in London streets, or anything between these 
 two extremes. 
 
 The change for the worse in the school-house, how- 
 ever, didn't press very heavily on our youngsters for 
 some time ; they were in a good bedroom, where slept 
 the only praepostor left who was able to keep thorough 
 order, and their study was in his passage ; so, though 
 they were fagged more or less, and occasionally kicked, 
 or cuffed by the bullies, they were on the whole well 
 off ; and the fresh brave school-life, so full of games, 
 adventures, and good fellowship, so ready at forget- 
 ting, so capacious at enjoying, so bright at forecasting 
 outweighed a thousandfold their troubles with the 
 master of their form, and the occasional ill-usage of 
 the big boys in the house. It wasn't till some year or 
 so after the events recorded above, that the praspostor 
 of their room and passage left. None of the other 
 sixth-form boys would move into their passage, and, 
 to the disgust and indignation of Tom and East, one 
 morning after breakfast they were seized upon by 
 Flashman, and made to carry down his books and fur- 
 niture into the unoccupied study which he had taken. 
 From this time they began to feel the weight of the 
 tyranny of Flashman and his friends, and, now that 
 trouble had come home to their own doors, began to 
 look out for sympathizers and partners among the rest 
 of the fags; and meetings of the oppressed began to be 
 held, and murmurs to arise, and plots to be laid as to
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 how they should free themselves and be avenged on 
 their enemies. 
 
 While matters were in this state, East and Tom 
 were one evening sitting in their study. They had 
 done their work for first lesson, and Tom was in a 
 brown study, brooding, like a young William Tell, 
 upon the wrongs of fags in general, and his own in 
 particular. 
 
 " I say, Scud," said he at last, rousing himself to 
 snuff the candle, " what right have the fifth-form boys 
 to fag us as they do ? " 
 
 " ]STo more right than you have to fag them," an- 
 swered East, without looking up from an early num- 
 ber of " Pickwick," which was just coming out, and 
 which he was luxuriously devouring, stretched on his 
 back on the sofa. 
 
 Tom relapsed into his brown study, and East 
 went on reading and chuckling. The contrast of the 
 boys' faces would have given infinite amusement to a 
 looker-on, the one so solemn and big with mighty pur- 
 pose, the other radiant and bubbling over with fun. 
 
 " Do you know, old fellow, I've been thinking it over 
 a good deal," began Tom again. 
 
 " Oh yes, I know, fagging you are thinking of. Hang 
 it all but listen here Tom here's fun. Mr. Winkle's 
 horse " 
 
 " And- I've made up my mind," broke in Tom, "that 
 I won't fag except for the sixth." 
 
 " Quite right too, my boy," cried East, putting his 
 finger on the place and looking up; "but a pretty 
 peck of troubles you'll get into, if you're going to play 
 that game. However, I'm all for a strike myself, if we 
 can get others to join it's getting too bad." 
 
 "Can't we get some sixth-form fellow to take it 
 up? "asked Tom.
 
 ICO TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 "Well, perhaps we might ; Morgan would interfere, 
 I think. Only," added East, after a moment's pause, 
 "you see we should have to tell him about it, and that's 
 against school principles. Don't you remember what 
 old Brooke said about learning to take our own 
 parts ? " 
 
 " Ah, I wish old Brooke were back again it was all 
 right in his time." 
 
 " Why yes, you see then the strongest and best fel- 
 lows were in the sixth, and the fifth-form fellows were 
 afraid of them, and they kept good order ; but now our 
 sixth-form fellows are too small, and the fifth don't 
 care for them, and do what they like in the house." 
 
 " And so w r e get a double set of masters," cried Tom, 
 indignantly ; " the lawful ones, who are responsible to 
 the doctor at any rate, and the unlawful the tyrants, 
 who are responsible to nobody." 
 
 " Down with the tyrants ! " cried East ; " I'm all for 
 law and order, and hurra for a revolution." 
 
 " I shouldn't mind if it were only for young Brooke 
 now," said Tom, "he's such a good-hearted, gentle- 
 manly fellow, and ought to be in the sixth I'd do 
 anything for him. But that blackguard Flashman, 
 who never speaks to one without a kick or an oath 
 
 " The cowardly brute," broke in East, " how I hate 
 him ! And he knows it too ; he knows that you and I 
 think him a coward. What a bore that he's got a study 
 in this passage! don't you hear them now at supper in 
 his den ? Brandy punch going, I'll bet. I wish the 
 doctor would come out and catch him. We must 
 change our study as soon as we can." 
 
 " Change or no change, I'll never fag for him again," 
 said Tom, thumping the table. 
 
 " Fa-a-a-ag ! " sounded along the passage from
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. lei 
 
 Flashman's study. The two boys looked at one an- 
 other in silence. It had struck nine, so the regular 
 night-fags had left duty, and they were the nearest to 
 the supper party. East sat up and began to look com- 
 ical, as he always did under difficulties. 
 
 " Fa-a-a-ag ! " again. No answer. 
 
 " Here, Brown ! East ! you cursed young skulks," 
 roared out Flashman, coming to his open door, "I 
 know you're in no shirking." 
 
 Tom stole to their door, and drew the bolts as noise- 
 lessly as he could ; East blew out the candle. " Barri- 
 cade the first," whispered he. " Now, Tom, mind, no 
 surrender." 
 
 " Trust me for that," said Tom between his teeth. 
 
 In another minute they heard the supper-party turn 
 out and come down the passage to their door. They 
 held their breaths and heard whispering of which they 
 only made out Flashman's words, "I know the young 
 brutes are in." 
 
 Then came summonses to open, which being unan- 
 swered, the assault commenced : luckily the door was 
 a good strong oak one, and resisted the united weight 
 of Flashman's party. A pause followed, and they heard 
 a besieger remark, " They're in, safe enough don't you 
 see how the door holds at top and bottom ? so the bolts 
 must be drawn. We should have forced the lock 
 long ago." East gave Tom a nudge, to call attention to 
 this scientific remark. 
 
 Then came attacks on particular panels, one of 
 which at last gave way to the repeated kicks ; but it 
 broke inward, and the broken piece got jammed 
 across, the door being lined with green-baize, and 
 couldn't easily be removed from outside ; and the be- 
 sieged, scorning further concealment, strengthened
 
 162 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 their defenses by pressing the end of their sofa against 
 the door. So after one or two more ineffectual efforts 
 Flashman and Co. retired, vowing vengeance in no 
 mild terms. 
 
 The first danger over it only remained for the be- 
 sieged to effect a safe retreat, as it was now near bed- 
 time. They listened intently, and heard the supper- 
 party resettle themselves, and then gently drew back 
 first one bolt and then the other. Presently the 
 convivial noises began again steadily. " Now then, 
 stand by for a run," said East, throwing the door 
 wide open and rushing into the passage, closely fol- 
 lowed by Tom. They were too quick to be caught ; 
 but Flashman was on the look-out, and sent an empty 
 pickle-jar whizzing after them, which narrowly 
 missed Tom's head, and broke into twenty pieces at 
 the end of the passage. " He wouldn't mind killing 
 one if he wasn't caught," said East, as they turned the 
 corner. 
 
 There was no pursuit, so the two turned into the 
 hall, where they found a knot of small boys round the 
 fire. Their story was told the war of independence 
 had broken out who would join the revolutionary 
 forces ? Several others present bound themselves not 
 to fag for the fifth-form at once. One or two only 
 edged off, and left the rebels. What else could they 
 do? " I've a good mind to go to the doctor straight," 
 said Tom. 
 
 " That'll never do don't you remember the levy of 
 the school last half?" put in another. 
 
 In fact, that solemn assembly, a levy of the school, 
 had been held, at which the captain of the school had 
 got up, and, after premising that several instances had 
 occurred of matters having been reported to the masters
 
 TOM BEOWK'S SCHOOL DAYS. 163 
 
 that this was against public morality and school tradi- 
 tion ; that a levy of the sixth had been held on the 
 subject, and they had resolved that the practice must be 
 stopped at once ; had given out that any boy, in what- 
 ever form, who should thenceforth appeal to a master, 
 without having first gone to some praBpostor and laid 
 the case before him, should be thrashed publicly, and 
 sent to Coventry. 
 
 " Well, then, let's try the sixth. Try Morgan," 
 suggested another. " No use " " blabbing wont do," 
 was the general feeling. 
 
 " I'll give you fellows a piece of advice," said a voice 
 from the end of the hall. They all turned round with 
 a start, and the speaker got up from a bench on which 
 he had been lying unobserved, and gave himself a 
 shake ; he was a big, loose-made fellow, with huge 
 limbs which had grown too far through his jacket and 
 trousers. " Don't you go to anybody at all you just 
 stand out; say you won't fag they'll soon get tired of 
 licking you. I've tried it on years ago with their fore- 
 runners." 
 
 "No! did you? tell us how it was," cried a chorus of 
 voices, as they clustered round him. 
 
 " Well, just as it is with you. The fifth-form would 
 fag us, and I and some more struck, and we beat 
 'em. The good fellows left off directly, and the bullies 
 who kept on soon got afraid." 
 
 " Wa$ Biashman here then ? " 
 
 "Yes land a dirty little snivelling, sneaking fellow 
 he was, too. He dever dared join us, and he used to 
 toady the bullies by offering to fag for them, and 
 peaching against the rest of us." 
 
 " Why wasn't he cut then? " said East. 
 
 "Ob, toadies never get cut, they're too useful,
 
 1G4 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 Besides, he has no end of great hampers from home, 
 with wine and game in them ; so he toadied and fed 
 himself into favor." 
 
 The quarter-to-ten bell now rang, and the small 
 boys went off up-stairs, still consulting, together, and 
 praising their new counsellor; who stretched himself out 
 on the bench before the hall fire again. There he lay, 
 a very queer specimen of boyhood, by name Diggs, 
 and familiarly called " the mucker." He was young 
 for his size, and a very clever fellow, nearly at the top 
 of the fifth. His friends at home, having regard, I 
 suppose, to his age, and not to his size and place in the 
 school, hadn't put him into tails ; and even his jackets 
 \vereal\vaystoosmall; and he had a talent for de- 
 stroying clothes, and making himself look shabby. He 
 wasn't on terms with Flashman's set, who sneered at 
 his dress and ways behind his back, which he knew, 
 and revenged himself by asking Flashman the most 
 disagreeable questions, and treating him familiarly 
 whenever a crowd of boys were round them. Neither 
 was he intimate with any of the other bigger boys, 
 who were warned off by his oddnesses, for he was a 
 very queer fellow ; besides, among other failings, he had 
 that of impecuniosity in a remarkable degree. He 
 brought as much money as other boys to school, but 
 got rid of it in no time, no one knew how. And then, 
 being also reckless, borrowed from any one and when 
 his debts accumulated and creditors pressed, would 
 have an auction in the hall of everything he possessed 
 in the world, selling even his school-books, candlestick, 
 and study table. For weeks after one of these auc- 
 tions, having rendered his study uninhabitable, lie 
 would live about in the fifth-form room and hall, doing 
 Jjis verse on old letter backs and odd scraps of paper,
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 1C5 
 
 and learning his lessons no one knew how. He never 
 meddled with any little boy, and was popular with 
 them, though they all looked on him with a sort of 
 compassion, and called him " poor Diggs," not being 
 able to resist appearances, or to disregard wholly even 
 the sneers of their enemy Flashman. However, he 
 seemed equally indifferent to the sneers of big boys 
 and pity of small ones, and lived his own queer life 
 with much apparent enjoyment to himself. It is neces- 
 sary to introduce Diggs thus particularly, as he not 
 only did Tom and East good service in their present 
 warfare, as is about to be told, but soon afterward, 
 when he got into the sixth, chose them for his 
 fags, and excused them from study -fagging, thereby 
 earning unto himself eternal gratitude from them, and 
 all who are interested in their history. 
 
 And seldom had small boys more need of a friend, 
 for the morning after the siege the storm burst upon 
 the rebels in all its violence. Flashman laid wait, and 
 caught Tom before second lesson, and receiving a point- 
 blank " No," when told to fetch his hat, seized him 
 and twisted his arm, and went through the other 
 methods of torture in use " He couldn't make me cry, 
 though," as Tom said triumphantly. to the rest of the 
 rebels, " and I kicked his shins well, I know." And 
 soon it crept out that a lot of the fags were in league, 
 and Flashman excited his associates to join him in 
 bringing the young vagabonds to their senses ; and the 
 house was filled with constant chasings, and sieges, and 
 lickings of all sorts ; and in return, the bullies' beds 
 were pulled to pieces, and drenched with water, and 
 their names written upon the walls with every insult- 
 ing epithet which the fag invention could furnish. 
 The war in short raged fiercely ; but soon, as Diggs
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 had told them, all the better fellows in the fifth gave 
 up trying to fag them, and public feeling began to set 
 against Flashman and his two or three intimates, and 
 they were obliged to keep their doings more secret ; but 
 being thorough bad fellows, missed no opportunity of 
 torturing in private. Flashman was an adept in all 
 ways, but above all in the power of saying cutting and 
 cruel things, and could often bring tears to the eyes of 
 boys in this way, which all the thrashings in the world 
 wouldn't have wrung from them. 
 
 And as his operations were being cut short in other 
 directions, he now devoted himself chiefly to Tom and 
 East, who lived at his own door, and would force him- 
 self into their study whenever he found a chance, and 
 sit there, sometimes alone, sometimes with a companion, 
 interrupting all their work, and exulting in the evident 
 pain which every now and then he could see he was 
 inflicting on one or the other. 
 
 The storm had cleared the air for the rest of the 
 house, and a better state of things now began than 
 there had been since old Brooke had left : but an angry 
 dark spot of thunder-cloud still hung over the end of 
 the passage, where Flashman's study and that of East 
 and Tom lay. 
 
 He felt that they had been the first rebels, and that 
 the rebellion had been to a great extent successful ; 
 but what above all stirred the hatred and bitterness of 
 his heart against them, was that in the frequent col- 
 lisions which there had been of late, they had openly 
 called him coward and sneak the taunts were too 
 true to be forgiven. While he was in the act of 
 thrashing them, they would roar out instances of his 
 funking at foot-ball, or shirking some encounter with 
 a lout of half his own size. These things were all well
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 167 
 
 enough known in the house, but to have his disgrace 
 shouted out by small boys, to feel that they despised 
 him, to be unable to silence them by any amount of 
 torture, and to see the open laugh and sneer of his 
 own associates (who were looking on and took no 
 trouble to hide their scorn from him, though they 
 neither interfered with his bullying or lived a bit the 
 less intimately with him), made him beside himself. 
 Come what might he would make those boys' lives mis- 
 erable. So the strife settled down into a personal af- 
 fair between Flashman and our youngsters ; a war to 
 the knife, to be fought out in the little cock-pit at the 
 end of the bottom passage. 
 
 Flashman, be it said, was about seventeen years old, 
 and big and strong of his age. He played well at all 
 games where pluck wasn't much wanted, and managed 
 generally to keep up appearances where it was ; and 
 having a bluff, off-hand manner, which passed for 
 heartiness, and considerable powers of being pleasant 
 when he liked, went down with the school in general 
 for a good fellow enough. Even in the school-house, 
 by dint of his command of money, and the constant 
 supply of good things which he kept up, and his adroit 
 toadyism, he had managed to make himself not only 
 tolerated, but rather popular among his own contem- 
 poraries; although young Brooke scarcely spoke to 
 him, and one or two others of the right sort showed 
 their opinions of him whenever a chance offered. But 
 the wrong sort happened to be in the ascendant just 
 now, so Flashman was a formidable enemy for small 
 boys. This soon became plain enough. Flashman 
 left no slander unspoken, and no deed undone, which 
 could in any way hurt his victims, or isolate them from 
 the rest of the house. One by one most of the other
 
 168 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 rebels fell away from them, while Flashman's cause 
 prospered, and several other fifth-form boys began to 
 look black at them and ill-treat them as they passed 
 about the house. By keeping out of bounds, or at all 
 events out of the house and quadrangle, all day, and 
 carefully barring themselves in at night, East and Tom 
 managed to hold on without feeling very miserable; 
 but it was as much as they could do. Greatly were 
 they drawn then toward old Diggs who, in an uncouth 
 way, began to take a good deal of notice of them, and 
 once or twice came to their study when Flashman was 
 there, who immediately decamped in consequence. 
 The boys thought that Diggs must have been watching. 
 
 When therefore, about this time, an auction was one 
 night announced to take place in the hall, at which, 
 among the superfluities of other boys, all Diggs' Pe- 
 nates for the time being were going to the hammer, 
 East and Tom laid their heads together, and resolved 
 to devote their ready cash (some four shillings ster- 
 ling) to redeem such articles as that sum w r ould cover. 
 
 Accordingly they duly attended to bid, and Tom 
 became the owner of two lots of Diggs' things lot 1, 
 price one-and-three-pence, consisting (as the auctioneer 
 remarked) of a " valuable assortment of old metals," 
 in the shape of a mouse-trap, a cheese-toaster with- 
 out a handle, and a saucepan : lot 2, of a villainous 
 dirty table-cloth and a green-baize curtain ; while 
 East for one-and-sixpence purchased a leather paper- 
 case with a lock but no key, once handsome, but now 
 much the w r orse for wear. But they had still the 
 point to settle of how to get Diggs to take the things 
 without hurting his feelings. This they solved by 
 leaving them in his study, which was never locked 
 when he was out. Diggs, who had attended the
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 169 
 
 auction, remembered who had bought the lots, and 
 came to their study soon after, and sat silent for some 
 time, cracking his great red finger-joints. Then he 
 laid hold of their verses, and began looking over and 
 altering them, and at last got up, and turning his back 
 to them, said : " You're uncommon good-hearted little 
 beggars, you two I value that paper-case ; my sister 
 gave it me last holidays I won't forget;" and so 
 tumbled out into the passage, leaving them somewhat 
 embarrassed, but not sorry that he knew what they 
 had done. 
 
 The next morning was Saturday, the day on which 
 the allowances of one shilling a-week were paid, an 
 important event to spendthrift youngsters ; and great 
 was the disgust among the small fry to hear that all 
 the allowances had been impounded for the Derby 
 lottery. That great event in the English year, the 
 Derby, was celebrated at Eugby in those days by many 
 lotteries. It was not an improving custom, I own, 
 gentle reader, and led to making books and betting 
 and other objectionable results ; but when our great 
 Houses of Palaver think it right to stop the nation's 
 business on that day, and many of the members bet 
 heavily themselves, can you blame us boys for follow- 
 ing the example of our betters ? at any rate we did 
 follow it. First there was the great school lottery, 
 where the first prize was six or seven pounds ; then 
 each house had one or more separate lotteries. These 
 were all nominally voluntary, no boy being compelled 
 to put in his shilling who didn't choose to do so : but 
 besides Flashman, there were three or four other fast 
 sporting young gentlemen in the school-house, who 
 considered subscription a matter of duty and necessity 
 and so, to make their duty come easy to the small
 
 170 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 boys, quietly secured the allowances in a lump when 
 given out for distribution, and kept them. It was no 
 use grumbling so many fewer tartlets and apples 
 were eaten and fives'-balls bought on that Saturday ; 
 and after locking up, when the money would other- 
 wise have been spent, consolation was carried to 
 many a small boy, by the sound of the night-fags 
 shouting along the passages, " Gentlemen sportsmen of 
 the school-house, the lottery's going to be drawn in the 
 hall." It was pleasant to be called a gentleman sports- 
 man also to have a chance of drawing a favorite horse. 
 
 The hall was full of boys, and at the head of one of 
 the long tables stood the sporting interest, with a hat 
 before them, in which were the tickets folded up. One 
 of them then began calling out the list of the house ; 
 each boy as his name was called drew a ticket from the 
 hat and opened it ; and most of the bigger boys, after 
 drawing, left the hall directly to go back to their studies 
 or the fifth-form room. The sporting interest had all 
 drawn blanks, and they were sulky accordingly ; neither 
 of the favorites had ye't been drawn, and it had come 
 down to the upper-fourth. So now, as each small boy 
 came up and drew his ticket, it was seized and opened 
 by Flashman, or some other of the standers-by. But 
 no great favorite is drawn until it comes to the Tad- 
 pole's turn, and he shuffles up and draws, and tries to 
 make off, but is caught, and his ticket is opened like 
 the rest. 
 
 "Here you are! "Wanderer! the third favorite," 
 shouts the opener. 
 
 "I say, just give me my ticket, please," remonstrates 
 Tadpole. 
 
 "Hullo, don't be in a hurry," breaks in Flashman, 
 " what'll you sell Wanderer for ; now ? "
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 171 
 
 " I don't want to sell," rejoins Tadpole. 
 
 " Oh, don't you ? Now listen, you young fool you 
 don't know anything about it ; the horse is no use to 
 you. He won't win, but I want him as a hedge. Now 
 I'll give you half-a-crown for him." Tadpole holds 
 out, but between threats and cajoleries at length sells 
 half for one-shilling-and-sixpence, about a fifth of its 
 fair market value ; however, he is glad to realize any- 
 thing, and as he wisely remarks, " Wanderer mayn't 
 win, and the tizzy is safe anyhow." 
 
 East presently comes up and draws a blank. Soon 
 after comes Tom's turn ; his ticket, like the others, is 
 seized and opened. " Here you are then," shouts the 
 opener, holding it up, " Harkaway ! By Jove, Flashey, 
 your young friend's in luck." 
 
 " Give me the ticket," says Flashman with an oath, 
 leaning across the table with open hand, and his face 
 black with rage. 
 
 " Wouldn't you like it ? " replies the opener, not a 
 bad fellow at the bottom, and no admirer of Flash- 
 man's. " Here, Brown, catch hold," and he hands the 
 ticket to Tom, who pockets it ; whereupon Flashman 
 makes for the door at once, that Tom and the ticket 
 may not escape, and there keeps watch until the draw- 
 ing is over and all the boys are gone, except the sport- 
 ing set of five or six, who stay to compare books, make 
 bets and so on, Tom, who doesn't choose to move while 
 Flashman is at the door, and East, who stays by his 
 friend, anticipating trouble. 
 
 The sporting set now gathered round Tom. Public 
 opinion wouldn't allow them actually to rob him of his 
 ticket, but any humbug or intimidation by which he 
 could be driven to sell the whole or part at an under 
 value was lawful.
 
 172 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL BAYS. 
 
 "Now, young Brown, come, what'll you sell me 
 Harkaway for ? I hear he isn't going to start. I'll 
 give you five shillings for him," begins the boy who 
 had opened the ticket. Tom, remembering his good 
 deed, and moreover in his forlorn state wishing to 
 make a friend, is about to accept the offer, when an- 
 other cries out, " I'll give you seven shillings." Tom 
 hesitated, and looked from one to the other. 
 
 "No, no!" said Flashman, pushing in, "leave me 
 to deal with him ; we'll draw lots for it afterward. 
 Now, sir, you know me you'll sell Harkaway to us for 
 five shillings, or you'll repent it." 
 
 " I won't sell a bit of him," answered Tom, shortly. 
 
 "You hear that now?" said Flashman, turning to the 
 others. " He's the coxiest young blackguard in the 
 house I always told you so. We're to have all the 
 trouble and risk of getting up the lotteries for the 
 benefit of such fellows as he." 
 
 Flashman forgets to explain what risk they ran, but 
 he speaks to willing ears. Gambling makes boys selfish 
 and cruel as well as men. 
 
 " That's true we always draw blanks," cried one. 
 "Now, sir, you shall sell half, at any rate." 
 
 "I won't," said Tom, flushing up to his hair, and 
 lumping them all in his mind with his sworn enemy. 
 
 " Very well then, let's roast him," cried Flashman, 
 and catches hold of Tom by the collar : one or two 
 boys hesitate, but the rest join in. East seizes Tom's 
 arm and tries to pull him away, but is knocked back 
 by one of the boys, and Tom is dragged along, strug- 
 gling. His shoulders are pushed against the mantel- 
 piece, and he is held by main force before the fire, 
 Flashman drawing his trousers tight by way of extra 
 torture. Poor East, in more pain even than Tom, sud-
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 173 
 
 denly thinks of Diggs, and darts off to find him. 
 "Will you sell him for ten shillings ?" says one boy 
 who is relenting. 
 
 Tom only answers by groans and struggles. 
 
 " I say, Flashey, he has had enough," says the same 
 boy, dropping the arm he holds. 
 
 " No, no ; another turn'll do it," answers Flashman. 
 But poor Tom is done already, turns deadly pale, and 
 his head falls forward on his breast, just as Diggs, in 
 frantic excitement, rushes into the hall with East at 
 his heels. 
 
 " You cowardly brutes ! " is all he can say, as he 
 catches Tom from them and supports him to the hall 
 table. " Good God ! he's dying. Here, get some cold 
 water run for the housekeeper." 
 
 Flashman and one or two others slink away ; the 
 rest, ashamed and sorry, bend over Tom or run for 
 water, while East darts off for the housekeeper. 
 Water comes, and they throw it on his hands and face, 
 and he begins to come to. " Mother ! " the words 
 came feebly and slowly ''it's very cold to-night." 
 Poor old Diggs is blubbering like a child. "Where 
 am I ? " goes on Tom, opening his eyes. " Ah ! I 
 remember now," and he shut his eyes again and 
 groaned. 
 
 " 1 say," is whispered, " we can't do any good, and 
 the housekeeper will be here in a minute," and all but 
 one steal away ; he stays with Diggs, silent and sor- 
 rowful, and fans Tom's face. 
 
 The housekeeper comes in with strong salts, and 
 Tom soon recovers enough to sit up. There is a smell 
 of burning; she examines his clothes, and looks up 
 inquiringly. The boys are silent. 
 
 " Row did be come so ? " Ho answer,
 
 174 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 " There's been some bad work here," she adds look^ 
 ing very serious, " and I shall speak to the doctor 
 about it." Still no answer. 
 
 "Hadn't we better carry him to the sick-room?" 
 suggested Diggs. 
 
 " Oh, I can walk now," says Torn ; and, supported 
 by East and the housekeeper, goes to the sick-room. 
 The boy who held his ground is soon among the rest, 
 who are all in fear of their lives. " Did he peach ? " 
 ' Does she know about it ? " 
 
 "Not a word he's a stanch little fellow." And 
 pausing a moment he adds, " I'm sick of this work : 
 what brutes we've been ! " 
 
 Meantime Tom is stretched on the sofa in the house- 
 keeper's room, with East by his side, while she gets 
 wine and water and other restoratives. 
 
 "Are you much hurt, dear old boy?" whispers 
 East. 
 
 " Only the back of my legs," answers Tom. They 
 are indeed badly scorched, and part of his trousers 
 burned through. But soon he is in bed with cold ban- 
 dages. At first he feels broken, and thinks of writing 
 home and getting taken away ; and the verse of a 
 hymn he had learned years ago sings through his head, 
 and he goes to sleep, murmuring 
 
 " Where the wicked cease from troubling, 
 And the weary are at rest." 
 
 But after a sound night's rest the old boy-spirit 
 comes back again. East comes in reporting that the 
 whole house is with him, and he forgets everything 
 except their old resolve, never to be beaten by that 
 bully Flashman.
 
 TOM BROWJsf S SCHOOL DAYS. l*f 
 
 Not a word could the housekeeper extract from 
 either of them, and though the doctor knew all that 
 she knew that morning, he never knew any more. 
 
 I trust and believe that such scenes are not possible 
 now at school, and that lotteries and betting-books 
 have gone out ; but I am writing of schools as 
 they were in our time, and must gi?e the evil with the 
 good.
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A CHAPTER OF AOCEDRBTBL 
 
 ' Wkeran I [speak] of most 
 Of marring aeeideafebjr flood mad field, 
 
 t.r " 
 
 Tom came back into school after a couple of 
 days in the sick-room, he found matters much changed 
 for the better, as East had Jed him to expect. Flash- 
 man^ brutality had disgusted most even of his inti- 
 mate friends, and his cowadice had once more been 
 made plain to the house ; for Diggs had encountered 
 him on the morning after the lottery, and after high 
 words on both sides had struck him, and the blow was 
 not returned. However, Flashey was not unused to 
 this sort of thing, and had lived through as awkward 
 affairs before, and, as Diggs had said, fed and toadied 
 himself back into favor again. Two or three of the 
 boys who had helped to roast Tom came up and begged 
 his pardon, and thanked him for not telling anything'. 
 Morgan sent for him, and was inclined to take the 
 matter up warmly, but Tom begged him not to do it ; 
 to which he agreed, on Tom's promising to come to 
 him at once in future a promise which I regret to 
 say he didn't keep. Tom kept Harkaway all to him- 
 self, and won the second prize in the lottery, some 
 thirty shillings, which he and East contrived to spend 
 in about three days, in the purchase of pictures for
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 1?7 
 
 their study, two new bats and a cricket-ball, all the 
 best that could be got, and a supper of sausages, kid- 
 neys, and beefsteak pies to all the rebels. Light come, 
 light go; they wouldn't have been comfortable with 
 money in their pockets in the middle of the half. 
 
 The embers of Flash man's wrath, however, were still 
 smoldering, and burst out every now and then in sly 
 blows and taunts, and they both felt that they hadn't 
 quite done with him yet. It wasn't long, however, 
 before the last act of that drama came, and with it, the 
 end of bullying for Tom and East at Rugby. They 
 now often stole out into the hall at nights, incited 
 thereto, partly by the hope of finding Diggs there and 
 having a talk with him, partly by the excitement of 
 doing something which was against rules ; for, sad to 
 say, both of our youngsters, since their loss of character 
 for steadiness in their form, had got into the habit of 
 doing things which were forbidden, as a matter of 
 adventure; just in the same way, I should fancy, as 
 men fall into smuggling, and for the same sort of 
 reasons. Thoughtlessness in the first place. It never 
 occurred to them to consider why such and such rules 
 were laid down ; the reason was nothing to them ; and 
 they only looked upon rules as a sort of challenge 
 from the role-makers, which it would be rather bad 
 pluck in them not to accept; and then again, in the 
 lower parts of the school they hadn't enough to do. 
 The work of the form they could manage to get 
 through pretty easily, keeping a good enough place to 
 get their regular yearly remove ; and not having much 
 ambition beyond this, their whole superfluous steam 
 was available for games and scrapes. Now, one rule 
 of the house which it was a daily pleasure of all such 
 boys to break, was that after supper all fags, except the
 
 It8 tOM BROWNS SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 three on duty in the passages, should remain in their 
 own studies until nine o'clock; and if caught about the 
 passages or hall, or in one another's studies, they were 
 liable to punishments or caning. The rule was stricter 
 than its observance ; for most of the sixth spent their 
 evenings in the fifth-form room, where the library was, 
 and the lessons were learned in common. Every now 
 and then, however, a praepostor would be seized with a 
 fit of district visiting, and would make a tour of the 
 passages and hall and the fags' studies. Then, if the 
 owner were entertaining a friend or two, the first kick 
 at the door and ominous " Open here," had the effect 
 of the shadow of a hawk over a chicken-yard ; every 
 one cut to cover one small boy diving under the sofa, 
 another under the table, while the owner would hastily 
 pull down a book or two and open them, and cry out 
 in a meek voice, " Hullo, who's there ? " casting an 
 anxious eye round to see that no protruding leg or 
 elbow could betray the hidden boys. "Open, sir, 
 directly ; it's Snooks." " Oh, I'm very sorry ; I didn't 
 know it was you, Snooks ; " and then, with well-feigned 
 zeal, the door would be opened, young hopeful praying 
 that that beast Snooks mightn't have heard the scuffle 
 caused by his coming. If a study was empty, Snooks 
 proceeded to draw the passages and hall to find the 
 truants. 
 
 "Well, one evening, in forbidden hours, Tom and 
 East were in the hall. They occupied the seats before 
 the fire nearest the door, while Diggs sprawled as 
 usual before the further fire. He was busy with a 
 copy of verses, and East and Tom were chatting to- 
 gether in whispers by the light of the fire, and 
 splicing a favorite old fives' -bat which had sprung. 
 Presently a step came down the bottom passage j
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 179 
 
 they listened a moment, assured themselves that it 
 wasn't a praepostor, and then went on with their work 
 and the door swung open, and in walked Flashman. 
 He didn't see Diggs,, and thought it a good chance to 
 keep his hand in ; and as the boys didn't move for 
 him, struck one of them, to make them get out of his 
 way. 
 
 " What's that for ? " growled the assaulted one. 
 
 " Because I choose. You've no business here ; go to 
 your study." 
 
 ' You can't send us." 
 
 " Can't I ? Then I'll thrash you if you stay," said 
 Flashman, savagely. 
 
 " I say, you two," said Diggs, from the end of the 
 hall, rousing up and resting himself on his elbow, 
 "you'll never get rid of that fellow till you can 
 lick him. Go in at him, both of you I'll see fair 
 play." 
 
 Flashman was taken aback, and retreated two steps. 
 East looked at Tom. "Shall we try?" said he. 
 " Yes," said Tom, desperately. So the two advanced 
 on Flashman, with clinched fists and bleeding hearts. 
 They were about up to his shoulder, but tough boys 
 of their age, and in perfect training : while he, though 
 strong and big, was in poor condition, from his mon- 
 strous habits of stuffing and want of exercise. Coward 
 as he was, however, Flashman couldn't swallow such an 
 insult as this ; besides, he was confident of having easy 
 work, and so faced the boys saying : " You impudent 
 young blackguards ! " Before he could finish his 
 abuse, they rushed in on him, and began pummeling 
 at all of him which they could reach. He hit out 
 wildly and savagely, but the full force of his blows 
 didn't tell ; they were too near him. It was long odds
 
 180 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 though in point of strength, and in another minute 
 Tom went spinning backward over a form, and 
 Flashman turned to demolish East, with a savage 
 grin. But now Biggs jumped down from the table 
 on which he had seated himself. " Stop there," 
 shouted he ; " the round's over half minute time al- 
 lowed. 
 
 " What the is it to you ? " faltered Flashman, 
 
 who began to lose heart 
 
 "I'm going to see fair, I tell you," said Diggs with 
 a grin, and snapping his great red fingers; " 'tain't fair 
 for you to be fighting one of them at a time. Are you 
 ready, Brown ? Time's up." 
 
 The small boys rushed in again. Closing they saw 
 was their best chance, and Flashman was wilder and 
 more flurried than ever: he caught East by the throat, 
 and tried to force him back on the iron-bound-table ; 
 Tom grasped his waist, and, remembering the old 
 throw he had learned in the Vale from Harry 
 Winburn, crooked his leg inside Flashman's, and 
 threw his whole weight forward. The three tottered 
 for a moment, and then over they went on to the 
 floor, Flashman striking his head against a form in the 
 hall. 
 
 The two youngsters sprang to their legs, but he 
 lay there still. They began to be frightened. Tom 
 stooped down, and then cried out, scared out of his 
 wits. " He's bleeding awfully ; come here East, Diggs 
 he's dying." 
 
 "Not he," said Diggs, getting leisurely off the 
 table. "It's all sham he's only afraid to fight it 
 out. 
 
 East was as frightened as Tom. Diggs lifted Flash- 
 man's head, and he groaned.
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 181 
 
 " What's the matter?" shouted Diggs. 
 
 " My skull's fractured," sobbed Flashman. 
 
 " Oh, let me run for the housekeeper," cried Tom. 
 "What shall we do?" 
 
 "Fiddlesticks! it's nothing but the skin broken." 
 said the relentless Diggs, feeling his head. " Cold 
 water and a bit of rag's all he'll want." 
 
 " Let me go," said Flashman, surlily, sitting up ; 
 " I don't want your help." 
 
 " We're really very sorry," began East. 
 
 " Hang your sorrow," answered Flashman, holding 
 his handkerchief to the place; "you shall pay for this, 
 I can tell you, both of you." And he walked out of 
 the hall. 
 
 " He can't be very bad," said Tom with a deep sigh, 
 much relieved to see his enemy march so well. 
 
 "Not he," said Diggs, "and you'll see you won't 
 be troubled with him any more. But, I say, your 
 head is broken too your collar is covered with 
 blood." 
 
 " Is it, though ? " said Tom, putting up his hand ; 
 " I didn't know it." 
 
 " Well, mop it up, or you'll have your jacket spoiled. 
 And you have got a nasty eye, Scud ; you'd better go 
 and bathe it well in cold water." 
 
 "Cheap enough too, if we've done with our old 
 friend Flashey," said East, as they made off up-stairs 
 to bathe their wounds. 
 
 They had done with Flashman in one sense, for he 
 never laid a finger on either of them again ; but what- 
 ever harm a spiteful heart and venomous tongue could 
 <!<> them he took care should be done. Only throw 
 dirt enough, and some of it is sure to stick ; and so it 
 was with the fifth-form and the bigger boys in gen-
 
 182 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 eral, with whom he associated more or less, and they 
 not at all. Flashman managed to get Tom and East 
 into disfavor, which did not wear off for some time 
 after the author of it had disappeared from the school 
 world. This event much prayed for by the small fry 
 in general, took place a few months after the above 
 encounter. One fine summer evening Flashraan had 
 been regaling himself on gin-punch, at Brownsover ; 
 and having exceeded his usual limits, started home up- 
 roarious. He fell in with a friend or two coming back 
 from bathing, proposed a glass of beer, to which they 
 assented, the weather being hot, and they thirsty souls 
 and unaware of the quantity of drink which Flash- 
 man had already on board. The short result was, 
 that Flashy became beastly drunk ; they tried to get 
 him along, but couldn't; so they chartered a hurdle 
 and two men to carry him. One of the masters came 
 upon them, and they naturally enough fled. The 
 flight of the rest raised the master's suspicions, and the 
 good angel of the fags incited him to examine the 
 freight, and, after examination, to convoy the hurdle 
 himself up to the school-house ; and the doctor, who 
 had long had his eye on Flashman, arranged for his 
 withdrawal next morning. 
 
 The evil that men, and boys too, do, lives after them : 
 Flashman was gone, but our boys, as hinted above, still 
 felt the effects of his hate. Besides, they had been the 
 movers of the strike against unlawful fagging. The 
 cause was righteous the result had been triumphant 
 to a great extent ; but the best of the fifth, even those 
 who had never fagged the small boys, or had given up 
 the practice cheerfully, couldn't help feeling a small 
 grudge against the first rebels. After all, their form 
 had been defied on just grounds, no doubt ; so just,
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 183 
 
 indeed, that they had at once acknowledged the wrong 
 und remained passive in the strife : had they sided with 
 Flashman and his set, the rebels must have given way 
 at once. They couldn't help, on the whole, being glad 
 that they had so acted, and that the resistance had 
 been successful against such of their own form as had 
 shown fight ; they felt that law and order had gained 
 thereby, but the ringleaders they couldn't quite pardon 
 at once. " Confoundly coxy those young rascals will 
 get, if we don't mind," was the general feeling. 
 
 So it is, and must be always, my dear boys. If the 
 angel Gabriel were to come down from heaven, and 
 head a successful rise against the most abominable and 
 unrighteous vested interest, which this poor old world 
 groans under, he would most certainly lose his character 
 for many years, probably for centuries, not only with 
 upholders of said vested interest, but with the respect- 
 able mass of the people whom he had delivered. They 
 wouldn't ask him to dinner, or let their names appear 
 with his in the papers ; they would be very careful how 
 they spoke of him in the Palaver, or at their clubs. 
 What can we expect, then, when we have only poor 
 gallant blundering men like Kossuth, Garibaldi, Maz- 
 zini, and righteous causes which do not triumph in their 
 hands; men who have holes enough in their armor, 
 God knows, easy to be hit by respectabilities sitting 
 in their lounging chairs, and having large balances at 
 their bankers? But you are brave, gallant boys, who 
 hate easy-chairs, and have no balances or bankers. 
 You only want to have your heads set straight to take 
 the right side : so bear in mind that majorities, espe- 
 cially respectable ones, are nine times out of ten in the 
 wrong; and that if you see a man or boy striving 
 earnestly on the weak side, however wrong-headed or
 
 184 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 blundering he may be, you are not to go and join the 
 cry against him. If you can't join him and help him, 
 and make him wiser, at any rate remember that he has 
 found something in the world which he will fight and 
 suffer for, which is just what you have got to do for 
 yourselves; and so think and speak of him tenderly. 
 
 So East and Tom, the Tadpole, and one or two more, 
 became a sort of young Ishmaelites, their hands against 
 every one, and every one's hand against them. It has 
 been already told how they got to war w T ith the mas- 
 ters and the fifth-form, and with the sixth it was much 
 the same. They saw the prasposters cowed by or join- 
 ing with the fifth, and shirking their own duties ; so 
 they didn't respect them, and rendered no willing 
 obedience. It had been one thing to clean out studies 
 for sons of heroes like old Brooke, but quite another to 
 do the like for Snooks and Green, who had never faced 
 a good scrummage at football, and couldn't keep the 
 passages in order at night. So they only slurred 
 through their fagging just well enough to escape a 
 licking, and not always that, and got the character of 
 sulky, unwilling fags. In the fifth-form room, after 
 supper, when such matters were often discussed and 
 arranged, their names were forever coming up. 
 
 " I say, Green," Snooks began one night, " isn't that 
 new boy, Harrison, your fag ? " 
 
 "Yes; why?" 
 
 " Oh, I know something of him at home, and should 
 like to excuse him will you swop?" 
 
 " Who will you give me ? " 
 
 "Well, let's see; there's Willis, Johnson. No, that 
 won't do. Yes, I have it there's young East, I'll give 
 you him." 
 
 " Pon't you wish you may get it ? " replied Green,
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 185 
 
 " I'll ten you what I'll do I'll give you two for Willis 
 if you like." 
 
 " Who then ? " asks Snooks. 
 
 "Hall and Brown." 
 
 " Wouldn't have them at a gift." 
 
 " Better than East though ; for they ain't quite so 
 sharp," said Green, getting up and leaning his back 
 against the mantelpiece he wasn't a bad fellow, and 
 couldn't help not being able to put down the unruly 
 fifth-form. His eye twinkled as he went on, "Did 
 I ever tell you how the young vagabond sold me last 
 half?" 
 
 "No; how?" 
 
 "Well, he never half cleaned my study out, only 
 just stuck the candlesticks in the cupboard, and swept 
 the crumbs on to the floor. So at last I was mortal 
 angry, and had him up, made him go through the 
 whole performance under my eyes : the dust the young 
 scamp made nearly choked me, and showed that he 
 hadn't swept the carpet before. Well, when it was all 
 finished, ' Now, young gentleman,' says I, ' mind, I ex- 
 pect this to be done every morning, floor swept, table- 
 cloth taken off and shaken, and everything dusted.' 
 ' Very well,' grunts he. Not a bit of it though I was 
 quite sure in a day or two that he never took the table- 
 cloth off even. So I laid a trap for him : I tore up 
 some paper and put half-a-dozen bits on my table one 
 night, and the cloth over them as usual. Next morn- 
 ing, after breakfast, up I came, pulled off the cloth, and 
 sure enough there was the paper, which fluttered down 
 on to the floor. I was in a towering rage. 'I've got 
 you now,' thought I, and sent for him, while 1 got out 
 my cane. Up he came as cool as you please, with his 
 hands in his pockets, ' Didn't I tell you to shake my
 
 186 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 table-cloth every morning?' roared I. 'Yes,' says 
 he. ' Did you do it this morning ? ' ' Yes.' ' You 
 young liar ! I put these pieces of paper on the 
 table last night, and if you'd taken the table-cloth off 
 you'd have seen them, so I'm going to give you a good 
 licking.' Then my } r oungster takes one hand out of 
 his pocket, and just stoops down and picks up two of 
 the bits of paper, and holds them out to me. There 
 was written on each, in great round text, ' Harry East, 
 his mark.' The young rogue had found my trap out, 
 taken away my paper, and put some of his there, every 
 bit ear-marked. I'd a great mind to lick him for his 
 impudence, but after all one has no right to be laying 
 traps, so I didn't. Of course I was at his mercy till the 
 end of the half, and in his weeks my study was so 
 frowsy, I couldn't sit in it." 
 
 " They spoil one's things so, too," chimed in a third 
 boy. " Hall and Brown were night-fags last week : I 
 called fag, and gave them my candlesticks to clean ; 
 away they went, and didn't appear again. When they'd 
 had time enough to clean them three times over, I went 
 out to look after them. They weren't in the passages, 
 so down I went into the hall, where I heard music, 
 and there I found them sitting on the table, listening 
 to Johnson, who was playing the flute, and my candle- 
 sticks stuck between the bars well into the fire, red-hot, 
 clean spoiled ; they've never stood straight since, and 
 I must get some more. However, I gave them both a 
 good licking, that's one comfort." 
 
 Such were the sort of scrapes they were always 
 getting into : and so, partly by their own faults, partly 
 from circumstances, partly from the faults of others, 
 they found themselves outlaws, ticket-of -leave men, or 
 what you will in that line : in short, dangerous parties.
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 18? 
 
 and lived the sort of hand-to-mouth, wild, reckless life 
 which such parties generally have to put up with. 
 Nevertheless, they never quite lost favor with young 
 Brooke, who was now the cock of the house, and just 
 getting into the sixth, and Diggs stuck to them like a 
 man, and gave them store of good advice, by which 
 they never in the least profited. 
 
 And even after the house mended, and law and order 
 had been restored, which soon happened after young 
 Brooke and Diggs got into the sixth, they couldn't 
 easily or at once return into the paths of steadiness, 
 and many of the old wild, out-of-bounds habits stuck 
 to them as firmly as ever. While they had been quite 
 little boys, the scrapes they got into in the school 
 hadn't much mattered to any one ; but now they were 
 in the upper school, all wrong-doers from which were 
 sent up straight to the doctor at once ; so they began 
 to come under his notice ; and as they were a sort of 
 leaders in a small way among their own contempo- 
 raries, his eye, which was everywhere, was upon 
 them. 
 
 It was a toss-up whether they turned out well or ill, 
 and so they were just the boys who caused most anxiety 
 to such a master. You have been told of the first 
 occasion on which they were sent up to the doctor, and 
 the remembrance of it was so pleasant that they had 
 much less fear of him than most boys of their stand- 
 ing had. " It's all his look," Tom used to say to East, 
 "that frightens fellows; don't you remember, he never 
 said anything to us my first half-year, for being an 
 hour late for locking up ? " 
 
 The next time that Tom came before him, however, 
 the interview was of a very different kind. It hap- 
 pened just about the time at which we have now ar-
 
 188 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 rived, and was the first of a series of scrapes into 
 which our hero managed now to tumble. 
 
 The river Avon, at Rugby, is a slow and not very 
 clear stream, in which chub, dace, roach, and other 
 coarse fish are (or were) plentiful enough, together 
 with a fair sprinkling of small jack, but no fish worth 
 sixpence either for sport or food. It is, however, a 
 capital river for bathing, as it has many nice small 
 pools and several good reaches for swimming, all within 
 about a mile of one another, and at an easy twenty 
 minutes' walk from the school. This mile of water is 
 rented, or used to be rented, for bathing purposes, by 
 the trustees of the school, for the boys. The footpath 
 to Brownsover crosses the river by " the planks," a 
 curious old single-plank bridge, running for fifty or 
 sixty yards into the flat meadows on each side of the 
 river for in the winter there are frequent floods. 
 Above the Planks were the bathing places for the 
 smaller boys ; Sleath's,the first bathing place where all 
 new boys had to begin, until they had proved to the 
 bathing men (three steady individuals who were paid 
 to attend daily through the summer to prevent acci- 
 dents) that they could swim pretty decently, when 
 they were allowed to go on to Anstey's, about one hun- 
 dred and fifty yards below. Here there was a hole 
 about six feet deep and twelve feet across, over which 
 the puffing urchins struggled to the opposite side, and 
 thought no small beer of themselves for having been 
 out of their depths. Below the Planks came larger 
 and deeper holes, the first of which was Wratislaw'a 
 and the last Swift's, a famous hole, ten or twelve feet 
 deep in parts, and thirty yards across, from which there 
 was a fine swimming reach right down to the mill. 
 Swift's was reserved for the sixth and fifth forms, and
 
 TOM BKOWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 189 
 
 had a spring board and two sets of steps: the others 
 had one set of steps each, and were used indifferently 
 by all the lower boys, though each house addicted itself 
 more to one hole than to another. The school-house 
 at this time affected Wratislaw's hole, and Tom and 
 East, who had learned to swim like fishes, were to be 
 found there as regular as the clock through the sum- 
 mer, always twice, and often three times a day. 
 
 Now the boys either had, or fancied they had, a right 
 also to fish at their pleasure over the whole of this part 
 of the river, and would not understand that the right 
 (if any) only extended to the Rugby side. As ill luck 
 would have it, the gentleman who owned the opposite 
 bank, after allowing it for some time without interfer- 
 ence, had ordered his keepers not to let the boys fish 
 on his side ; the consequence of which had been, that 
 there had been first wranglings and then fights between 
 the keepers and boys; and so keen had the quarrel 
 become, that the landlord and his keepers, after a 
 ducking had been inflicted on one of the latter, and a 
 fierce fight ensued thereon, had been up to the great 
 school at calling-over to identify the delinquents, and 
 it was all the doctor himself and five or six masters 
 could do to keep the peace. Not even his authority 
 could prevent the hissing ; and so strong was the feel- 
 ing, that the four prapostors of the week walked up the 
 school with their canes, shouting " S-s-s-s i-lenc-c-c c-e " 
 at the top of their voices. However, the chief offenders 
 for the time were flogged and kept in bounds, but the 
 victorious party had brought a nice hornets' nest about 
 their ears. The landlord was hissed at the school gates 
 as he rode past, and when he charged his horse at the 
 mob of boys, and tried to thrash them with his whip, 
 was driven back by cricket-bats and wickets, and pur-
 
 190 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 sued with pebbles and fives'-balls ; while the wretched 
 keepers' lives were a burthen to them, from having to 
 watch the waters so closely. 
 
 The school-house boys of Tom's standing, one and 
 all, as a protest against this tyranny and cutting short 
 of their lawful amusements, took to fishing in all ways 
 and especially by means of night-lines. The little 
 tackle-maker at the bottom of the town would soon 
 have made his fortune had the rage lasted, and several 
 of the barbers began to lay in fishing-tackle. The boys 
 had this great advantage over their enemies, that they 
 spent a large portion of the day in nature's garb by 
 the river side, and so, when tired of swimming, would 
 get out on the other side and fish, or set night-lines 
 till the keeper hove in sight, and then plunge in and 
 swim back and mix with the other bathers, and 
 the keepers were too wise to follow across the 
 stream. 
 
 While things were in this state, one day Tom and 
 three or four others were bathing at Wratislaw's, and 
 had, as a matter of course, been taking up and re-set- 
 ting night lines. They had all left the water, and 
 were sitting or standing about at their toilets, in all 
 costumes from a shirt upward, when they were aware 
 of a man in a velveteen shooting-coat approaching 
 from the other side. He was a new keeper, so they 
 didn't recognize or notice him, till he pulled up right 
 opposite, and began : 
 
 " I see'd some of you young gentlemen over this side 
 a fishing just now." 
 
 "Hullo, who are you? what business is that of 
 yours, old Velveteens ? " 
 
 " I'm the new under-keeper, and master's told me to 
 keep a sharp look-out on. all o' you young chaps, AmJ
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 191 
 
 I tells 'eel means business, and you'd better keep on 
 your own side, or we shall fall out." 
 
 " Well, that's right, Velveteens speak out, and let's 
 know your mind at once." 
 
 " Look here, old boy," cried East, holding up a miser- 
 able coarse fish or two and a small jack, " would you 
 like to smell 'em and see which bank they lived 
 under?" 
 
 " I'll give you a bit of advice, keeper," shouted Tom, 
 who was sitting in his shirt paddling with his feet in 
 the river; "you'd better go down there to Swift's, 
 where the big boys are, they're beggars at setting 
 lines, and '11 put you up to a wrinkle or two for catch- 
 ing the five-pounders." Tom was nearest to the 
 keeper, and that officer, who was getting angry at the 
 chaff, fixed his eyes on our hero, as if to take a note 
 of him for future use. Tom returned his gaze with a 
 steady stare, and then broke into a laugh, and struck 
 into the middle of a favorite school-house song : 
 
 As I and my companions 
 
 Were setting of a snare, 
 The gamekeeper was watching us, 
 
 For him we did not care : 
 For we can wrestle and fight, my boys, 
 And jump out anywhere. 
 For it's my delight of a likely night, 
 In the season of the year. 
 
 The chorus was taken up by the other boys with 
 shouts of laughter, and the keeper turned away with 
 a grunt, but evidently bent on mischief. The boys 
 thought no more of the matter. 
 
 But now came on the may-fly season ; the soft, hazy 
 summer weather lay sleepily along the rich meadows 
 by Avon side, and the green and gray flies flickered
 
 192 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 with their graceful, lazy, up-and-down flight over the 
 reeds and the water and the meadows, in myriads upon 
 myriads. The may-flies must surely be the lotus-eaters 
 of the ephemera? ; the happiest, laziest, carelessest fly 
 that dances and dreams out his few hours of sunshiny 
 life by English rivers. 
 
 Every little pitiful coarse fish in the Avon was on 
 the alert for the flies, and gorging his wretched carcass 
 with hundreds daily, the gluttonous rogues ; and every 
 lover of the gentle craft was out to avenge the poor 
 may-flies. 
 
 So one fine Thursday afternoon, Tom having bor- 
 rowed East's new rod, started by himself to the river. 
 He fished for some time with small success, not a fish 
 would rise at him ; but, as he prowled along the bank, 
 he was presently aware of mighty ones feeding in a 
 pool on the opposite side, under the shade of a huge 
 willow-tree. The stream was deep here, but some fifty 
 yards below was a shallow, for which he made off hot- 
 foot ; and forgetting landlords, keepers, solemn prohibi- 
 tions of the doctor, and everything else, pulled up his 
 trousers, plunged across, and in three minutes was 
 creeping along on all fours toward the clump of 
 willows. 
 
 It isn't often that great chub, or any other coarse 
 fish are in earnest about anything, but just then they 
 were thoroughly bent on feeding, and in half-an-hour 
 Master Tom had deposited three thumping fellows at 
 the foot of the giant willow. As he was baiting for a 
 fourth pounder, and just going to throw in again, he 
 became aware of a man coming up the bank not one 
 hundred yards off. Another look told him that it was 
 the under-keeper. Could he reach the shallow before 
 him ? No, not carrying his rod. Nothing for it but
 
 tow BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 193 
 
 the tree : so Tom laid his bones to it, shinning up as 
 fast as he could, and dragging up his rod after him. 
 He had just time to reach and crouch along upon a 
 huge branch some ten feet up, which stretched out over 
 the river, when the keeper arrived at the clump. Tom's 
 heart beat fast as he came under the tree ; two steps 
 more and he would have passed, when, as ill-luck would 
 have it, the gleam on the scales of the dead fish caught 
 his eye, and he made a dead point at the foot of the 
 tree. He picked up the fish one by one ; his eye and 
 touch told him that they had been alive and feeding 
 within the hour. Tom crouched lower along the 
 branch, and heard the keeper beating the clump. " If 
 I could only get the rod hidden," thought he, and be- 
 gan gently shifting it to get it alongside him ; willow- 
 trees don't throw out straight hickory shoots twelve 
 feet along, with no leaves, worse luck. Alas! the 
 keeper catches the rustle, and then a sight of the rod, 
 and then of Tom's hand and arm. 
 
 "Oh, be up ther' be 'ee?" says he, running under 
 the tree. " Now you come down this minute." 
 
 " Tree'd at last," thinks Tom, making no answer, 
 and keeping as close as possible, but working away at 
 the rod, which he takes to pieces : " I'm in for it, un- 
 less I can starve him out." And then he begins to 
 meditate getting along the branch for a plunge and 
 scramble to the other side ; but the small branches are 
 so thick, and the opposite bank so difficult, that the 
 keeper will have lots of time to get round by the ford 
 before he can get out. so he gives that up. And now 
 he hears the keeper beginning to scramble up the 
 trunk. That will never do ; so he scrambles himself 
 back to where his branch joins the trunk, and stands 
 with lifted rod.
 
 1&4 TOM BROWN S SCllOOL DAYS. 
 
 " Hullo, Velveteens, mind your fingers if you come 
 any higher." 
 
 The keeper stops and looks up, and then with a grin 
 says, " Oh, be you, be it, young ineaster ? Well, here's 
 luck. Now I tells 'ee to come down at once, and 't'll 
 be best for 'ee." 
 
 " Thank'ee, Velveteens, I'm very comfortable," said 
 Tom, shortening the rod in his hand, and preparing fpr 
 battle. 
 
 " Werry well, please yourself," sa} r s the keeper, de- 
 scending however to the ground again, and taking his 
 seat on the bank ; " I bean't in no hurry, so you med 
 take your time. I'll larn 'ee to gee honest folk names 
 afore I've done with 'ee." 
 
 " My luck as usual," thinks Tom ; " what a fool I 
 was to give him a black. If I'd called him 'keeper,' 
 now I might get off. The return match is all his 
 way." 
 
 The keeper was quietly proceeded to take out his pipe 
 fill, and light it, keeping an eye on Tom, who now sat 
 disconsolately across the branch, looking at keeper 
 a pitiful sight for men and fishes. The more he thought 
 of it the less he liked it. " It must be getting near 
 second calling-over," thinks he. Keeper smokes on 
 stolidly. " If he takes me up, I shall be flogged safe 
 enough. I can't sit here all night. Wonder if he'll 
 rise at silver. 
 
 " I say, keeper," said he meekly, " let me go for two 
 bob ? " 
 
 "Not for twenty neither," grunts his persecutor. 
 
 And so they sat on till long past second calling- 
 over, and the sun came slanting in through the 
 willow-branches, and telling of locking-up near at 
 hand.
 
 
 
 
 TOM DISCOVERED BY VELVETEENS.
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 195 
 
 " I'm coming down, keeper," said Tom at last with 
 a sigh, fairly tired out. " Now what are you going 
 to do?" 
 
 " "Walk 'ee up to school, and give 'ee over to the 
 doctor ; them's my orders," says Velveteens, knocking 
 the ashes out of his fourth pipe, and standing up and 
 shaking himself. 
 
 " Very good," said Tom ; " but hands off, you know. 
 I'll go with you quietly, so no collaring or that sort of 
 thing." 
 
 Keeper looked at him a minute--" Werry good," 
 said he at last ; and so Tom descended, and wended his 
 way drearily by the side of the keeper up to the school- 
 house, where they arrived just at locking-up. As they 
 passed the school-gates, the Tad pole and several others 
 who were standing there caught the state of things, 
 and rushed out crying "Rescue!" but Tom shook his 
 head, so they only followed to the doctor's gate, and 
 went back sorely puzzled. 
 
 How changed and stern the doctor seemed from the 
 last time that Tom was up there, as the keeper told the 
 story, not omitting to state how Tom had called him 
 blackguard names. "Indeed, sir," broke in the culprit, 
 " it was only Velveteens." The doctor only asked one 
 question. 
 
 " You know the rule about the banks, Brown ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Then wait for me to-morrow, after first lesson." 
 
 " I thought so," muttered Tom. 
 
 " And about the rod sir ? " went on the keeper ; 
 " Master's told we as we might have all the rods " 
 
 " Oh, please, sir," broke in Tom, " the rod isn't 
 mine." The doctor looked puzzled, but the keeper, 
 >yho was a good-heartetl fellow, and melted at Tom's
 
 196 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 evident distress, gave up his claim. Tom was flogged 
 next morning, and a few days afterward met Vel- 
 veteens, and presented him with half-a-crown for giving 
 up the rod claim, and they became sworn friends; and 
 I regret to say that Tom had many more fish from 
 under the willow that may -fly season, and was never 
 caught again by Velveteens. 
 
 It wasn't three weeks before Tom, and now East by 
 his side, were again in the awful presence. This time, 
 however, the doctor was not so terrible. A few days 
 before, they had been fagged at fives to fetch the balls 
 that went off the court. While standing watching the 
 game, they saw five or six nearly new balls hit on the 
 top of the school. "I say, Tom," said East, when they 
 were dismissed, "couldn't we get those balls some- 
 how?" 
 
 " Let's try, anyhow." 
 
 So they reconnoitered the walls carefully, borrowed 
 a coal-hammer from old Stumps, bought some big nails, 
 and after one or two attempts, scaled the schools, and 
 possessed themselves of huge quantities of fives' balls. 
 The place pleased them so much that they spent all 
 their spare time there, scratching and cutting their 
 names on the top of every tower ; and at last, having 
 exhausted all other places, finished up with inscribing 
 II. EAST, T. BROWN, on the minute-hand of the great 
 clock. In the doing of which they held the minute- 
 hand, and disturbed the clock's economy. So next 
 morning, when masters and boys came trooping down 
 to prayers, and entered the quadrangle, the injured 
 minute-hand was indicating three minutes to the hour. 
 They all pulled up, and took their time. When the 
 hour struck, doors were closed, and half the school 
 late, Thomas being sent to make inquiry, discovers
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 their names on the minute-hand, and reports accord- 
 ingly ; and they are sent for, a knot of their friends 
 making derisive and pantomimic allusions to what 
 their fate will be, as they walk off. 
 
 But the doctor, after hearing their story, doesn't 
 make much of it, and only gives them thirty lines of 
 Homer to learn by heart, and a lecture on the likeli- 
 hood of such exploits ending in broken bones. 
 
 Alas ! almost the next day was one of the great fairs 
 in the town; and as several rows and other disagree- 
 able accidents had of late taken place on these occasions, 
 the doctor gives out, after prayers in the morning, that 
 no boy is to go down into the town. Wherefore, East 
 and Tom, for no earthly pleasure except that of doing 
 what they are told not to do, start away, after second 
 lesson, and making a short circuit through the fields, 
 strike a back lane which leads into the town, go down 
 it, and run plump upon one of the masters as they emerge 
 into the High street. The master in question, though 
 a very clever, is not a righteous man : he has already 
 caught several of his own pupils, and gives them lines 
 to learn, while he sends East and Tom, who are not 
 his pupils, up to the doctor ; who, on learning that 
 they had bee 4 at prayers in the morning, flogs them 
 soundly. 
 
 The flogging did them no good at the time, for the 
 injustice of their captor was rankling in their minds ; 
 but it was just at the end of the half, and on the next 
 evening but one Thomas knocks at their door, and says 
 the doctor wants to see them. They look at one 
 another in silent dismay. What can it be now? Which 
 of their countless wrong-doings can he have heard of 
 officially? However, it is no use delaying, so up they 
 go to the study. There they find the doctor, not an-
 
 198 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL 1)AYS. 
 
 gry, but very grave. " He has sent for them to speak 
 very seriously before they go home. They have each 
 been flogged several times in the half-year for direct 
 and willful breaches of rules. This cannot go on. 
 They are doing no good to themselves or others, and 
 now they are getting up in the school, and have in- 
 fluence. They seem to think that rules are made 
 capriciously, and for the pleasure of the masters ; but 
 this is not so, they are made for the good of the 
 whole school, and must and shall be obeyed. Those 
 who thoughtlessly or willfully break them will not 
 be allowed to stay at the school. lie should be sorry 
 if they had to leave, as the school might do them 
 both much good, and wishes them to think very 
 seriously in the holidays over what he has said. Good 
 night." 
 
 And so the two hurry off horribly scared : the idea 
 of having to leave has never crossed their minds, and 
 is quite unbearable. 
 
 As they go out, they meet at the door old Holmes, 
 a sturdy, cheery praposter of another house, who goes 
 in to the doctor; and they hear his genial, hearty 
 greeting of the new-comer, so different to their own 
 reception, as the door closes, and return to their study 
 with heavy hearts, and tremendous resolves to break 
 no more rules. 
 
 Five minutes afterward the master of their form, a 
 late arrival and a model young master, knocks at the 
 doctor's study-door. " Come in ? " and as he enters the 
 doctor goes on, to Holmes "you see I do not know 
 anything of the case official^, and if I take any notice 
 of it at all, I must publicty expel the boy. 1 don't 
 wish to do that, for I think there is some good in him. 
 There's nothing for it but a good sound thrashing."
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 199 
 
 He paused to shake hands with the master, which 
 Holmes does also, and then prepares to leave. 
 
 " I understand. Good-night, sir." 
 
 " Good-night, Holmes. And remember," added the 
 doctor, emphasizing the words, " a good sound thrash- 
 ing before the whole house." 
 
 The door closed on Holmes ; and the doctor, in an- 
 swer to the puzzled look of his lieutenant, explained 
 shortly. " A gross case of bullying. Wharton, the 
 head of the house, is a very good fellow, but slight and 
 weak, and severe physical pain is the only way to deal 
 with such a case ; so I have asked Holmes to take it 
 up. He is very careful and trustworthy, and has 
 plenty of strength. I wish all the sixth had as much. 
 We must have it here, if we are to keep order at all." 
 
 Now I don't want any wiseacres to read this book ; 
 but if they should, of course they will prick up their 
 long ears, and howl, or rather bray, at the above story. 
 Very good, I don't object ; but what I have to add for 
 you boys is this : that Holmes called a levy of his house 
 after breakfast next morning, made them a speech on 
 the case of bullying in question, and then gave the 
 bully a "good sound thrashing;" and that years after- 
 ward, that boy sought out Holmes, and thanked him, 
 saying it had been the kindest act which had ever been 
 done upon him, and the turning-point in his character; 
 and a very good fellow he became, and a credit to his 
 school. 
 
 After some other talk between them, the doctor said, 
 " I want to speak to you about two boys in your form, 
 East and Brown : I have just been speaking to them. 
 What do you think of them ? " 
 
 " Well, they are not hard workers, and very thought- 
 less and full of spirits but I can't help liking them. 
 I think they are sound good fellows at the bottom,"
 
 200 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 "I'm glad of it. I think so too. But they make 
 me very uneasy. They are taking the lead a good deal 
 among the fags in my house, for they are very active, 
 bold fellows. I should be sorry to lose them, but I 
 shan't let them stay if I don't see them gaining charac- 
 ter and manliness. In another year they may do great 
 harm to all the younger boys." 
 
 " Oh, I hope you won't send them away," pleaded 
 their master. 
 
 " Not if I can help it. But now I never feel sure 
 after any half-holiday, that I shan't have to flog one 
 of them next morning, for some foolish, thoughtless 
 scrape. I quite dread seeing either of them." 
 
 They were both silent for a minute. Presently the 
 doctor began again : 
 
 " They don't feel that they have any duty or work 
 to do in the school, and how is one to make them feel 
 it?" 
 
 " I think if either of them had some little boy to 
 take care of, it would steady them. Brown is the most 
 reckless of the two, I should say ; East wouldn't get 
 into so many scrapes without him." 
 
 " Well," said the doctor, with something like a sigh, 
 " I'll think of it." And they went on to talk of other 
 subjects.
 
 PART II.
 
 " I [hold] it truth, with him who sings 
 To one clear harp in divers fonee, 
 That men may rise on stepping-stones 
 Of their dead selves to higher things." 
 
 TENNYSON.
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 HOW THE TIDE TURNED. 
 
 " Once to every man and nation, comes the moment to decide, 
 In the strife of Truth with Falsehood, for the good or evil side: 
 ****** 
 
 Then it is the brave man chooses, while the coward stands aside, 
 Doubting in his abject spirit, till his Ix>rd is crucified." 
 
 LOWELL. 
 
 THE turning-point in our hero's school career had 
 now come, and the manner of it was as follows. On 
 the evening of the first day of the next half-year, Tom, 
 East, and another school-house boy, who had just been 
 dropped at the Spread Eagle by the old Regulator, 
 rushed into the matron's room in high spirits, such as 
 as all real boys are in when they first get back, how- 
 ever fond they may be of home. 
 
 " Well, Mrs. Wixie," shouted one, seizing on the 
 methodical, active little dark-eyed woman who was 
 busy stowing away the linen of the boys who had 
 already arrived into their several pigeon-holes, " here 
 we are again, you see, as jolly as ever. Let us help 
 you put the things away." 
 
 " And, Mary," cried another (she was called indiff- 
 erently by either name), " who's come back ? Has the 
 doctor made old Jones leave { How many new boys 
 are there ? " 
 
 " Am I and East to have Gray's study ? You know 
 you promised to get it for us if you could," shouted 
 Tom.
 
 204 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 " And am I to sleep in Number 4 ? " roared East. 
 
 " How's old Sam, and Bogle, and Sally ? " 
 
 " Bless the boys ! " cries Mary, at last getting in a 
 word, " why, you'll shake me to death. There now, 
 do go away up to the housekeeper's room and get 
 your suppers ; you know I haven't time to talk you'll 
 find plenty more in the house. Now, Master East, do 
 let those things alone you're mixing up three new 
 boys' things." And she rushed at East, who escaped 
 round the open trunks holding up a prize. 
 
 " Hullo, look here, Tommy," shouted he, " here's 
 fun ! " and he brandished above his head some pretty 
 little night-caps, beautifully made and marked, the 
 work of loving fingers in some distant country home. 
 The kind mother and sisters, who sewed that delicate 
 stitching with aching hearts, little thought of the 
 trouble they might be bringing on the young head for 
 which they were meant. The little matron was 
 wiser, and snatched the caps from East before he 
 could look at the name on them. 
 
 " Now, Master East, I shall be very angry if you 
 don't go," said she ; " there's some capital cold beef 
 and pickles up-stairs, and I won't have you old boys in 
 my room first night." 
 
 "Hurrah for the pickles! Come along, Tommy; 
 come along, Smith. We shall find out who the young 
 count is, I'll be bound : I hope he'll sleep in my room. 
 Mary's always vicious first week." 
 
 As the boys turned to leave the room, the matron 
 touched Tom's arm, and said, "Master Brown, please 
 stop a minute, I want to speak to you." 
 
 " Very well, Mary. I'll come in a minute : East, 
 don't finish the pickles. 
 
 "Oh, Master Brown," went on the little matron,
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 205 
 
 when the rest had gone, "you're to have Gray's study 
 Mrs. Arnold says. And she wants you to take in this 
 young gentleman. He's a new boy, and thirteen years 
 old, though he don't look it. He's very delicate, and 
 has never been from home before. And I told Mrs. 
 Arnold I thought you'd be kind to him, and see that 
 they don't bully him at first. He's put into your form 
 and I've given him the bed next to yours in number 
 4 ; so East can't sleep there this half." 
 
 Tom was rather put about by this speech. He had 
 got the double study which he coveted, but here were 
 conditions attached which greatly moderated his joy. 
 He looked across the room, and in the far corner of 
 the sofa was aware of a slight, pale boy, with large 
 blue eyes and light fair hair, who seemed ready to 
 shrink through the floor. He saw at a glance that the 
 little stranger was just the boy whose first half-year 
 at a public school would be misery to himself if he 
 were left alone or constant anxiety to anyone who 
 meant to see him through his troubles. Tom was too 
 honest to take in the youngster and then let him shift 
 for himself ; and if he took him as his chum instead 
 of East, where were all his pet plans of having a bot- 
 tled-beer cellar under his window, and making night- 
 lines and slings, and plotting expeditions to Browns- 
 over Mills and Caldecott's Spinney ? East and he had 
 made up their minds to get this study, and then every 
 night from locking-up till ten they would be together 
 to talk about fishing, drink bottled-beer, read Marry at's 
 novels, and sort birds' eggs. And this new boy would 
 most likely never go out of the close, and would be 
 afraid of wet feet, and always getting laughed at and 
 called Molly, or Jenny, or some derogatory feminine 
 nickname.
 
 206 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 The matron watched him for a moment, and saw 
 what was passing in his mind, and so, like a wise nego- 
 tiator, threw in an appeal to his warm heart. " Poor 
 little fellow," said she in almost a whisper, " his father's 
 dead, and he's got no brothers. And his mamma, such 
 a kind sweet lady, almost broke her heart at leaving 
 him this morning ; and she said one of his sisters was 
 like to die of decline, and so " 
 
 " Well, well," burst in Tom, with something like 
 a sigh at the effort, " I suppose I must give up East. 
 Come along young un. What's your name ? We'll go 
 and have some supper, and then I'll show you our 
 study." 
 
 "His name's George Arthur," said the matron, 
 walking up to him with Tom, who grasped his little 
 delicate hand as the proper preliminary to making a 
 chum of him, and felt as if he could have blown him 
 away. "I've had his books and things put into the 
 study, which his mamma has had newly papered, and 
 the sofa covered, and new green baize curtains over the 
 door" (the diplomatic matron threw this in, to show 
 that the new boy was contributing largely to the 
 partnership comforts). " And Mrs. Arnold told me to 
 say," she added, " that she should like you both to 
 come up to tea with her. You know the way, Master 
 Brown, and the things are just gone up, I know." 
 
 Here was an announcement for Master Tom! He 
 was to go up to tea the first night, just as if he were a 
 sixth or fifth-form boy, and of importance in the school 
 world, instead of the most reckless young scapegrace 
 among the fags. He felt himself lifted on to a higher 
 social and moral platform at once. Nevertheless, he 
 couldn't give up without a sigh the idea of the jolly 
 supper in the housekeeper's room with East and the
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 rest, and a rush round to all the studies of his friends 
 afterward, to pour out the deeds and wonders of the 
 holidays, to plot fifty plans for the coming half-year, 
 and to gather news of who had left, and what new 
 boys had come, who had got who's study, and where 
 the new praepostors slept. However, Tom consoled 
 himself with thinking that he couldn't have done all 
 this with the new boy at his heels, and so marched off 
 along the passages to the doctor's private house with 
 his young charge in tow, in monstrous good humor 
 with himself and all the world. 
 
 It is needless, and would be impertinent, to tell how 
 the two young boys were received in that drawing- 
 room. The lady who presided there is still living, and 
 has carried with her to her peaceful home in the North, 
 the respect and love of all those who ever felt and 
 shared that gentle and high-bred hospitality. Ay, 
 many is the brave heart now doing its work and bear- 
 ing its load in country curacies, London chambers, un- 
 der the Indian sun, and in Australian towns and clear- 
 ings, which looks back with fond and grateful memory 
 to that school-house drawing-room, and dates much of 
 its highest and best training to the lessons learned 
 there. 
 
 Besides Mrs. Arnold and one or two of the elder 
 children, there were one of the younger masters, 
 young Brooke who was now in the sixth, and has 
 succeeded to his brother's position and influence and 
 another sixth-form boy there, talking together before 
 the fire. The master and young Brooke, now a great 
 strapping fellow six feet high, eighteen years old, and 
 powerful as a coal-heaver, nodded kindly to Tom, to 
 his intense glory, and then went on talking ; the other 
 (lid not not notice them. The hostess, after a few
 
 208 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 kind words, which led the boys at once and insensibly 
 to feel at their ease, and to begin talking to one an- 
 other, left them with her own children while she fin- 
 ished a letter. The young ones got on fast and well, 
 Tom holding forth about a prodigious pony he had 
 been riding out hunting, and hearing stories of the 
 winter glories of the lakes, when tea came in, and im- 
 mediately after, the doctor himself. 
 
 How frank, and kind, and manly, was his greeting 
 to the party by the fire! It did Tom's heart good to 
 see him and young Brooke shake hands, and look one 
 another in the face ; and he didn't fail to remark, that 
 Brooke was nearly as tall, and quite as broad as the 
 doctor. And his cup was full, when in another 
 moment his master turned to him with another 
 warm shake of the hand, and, seemingly oblivious of 
 all the late scrapes which he had been getting into, 
 said, " Ah, Brown, you here ! I hope you left your 
 father and all well at home ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir, quite well." 
 
 "And this is the little fellow who is to share your 
 study. Well, he doesn't look as we should like to see 
 him. He wants some Rugby air, and cricket. And 
 you must take him some good long walks, to Bilton 
 Grange and Caldecott's Spinney, and show him what a 
 little pretty country we have about here." 
 
 Tom wondered if the doctor knew that his visits to 
 Bilton Grange were for the purpose of taking rooks' 
 nests (a proceeding strongly discountenanced by the 
 owner thereof), and those to Caldecott's Spinney were 
 prompted chiefly by the conveniences for setting night- 
 lines. What didn't the doctor know ? And what a 
 noble use he always made of it! He almost resolved 
 to abjure rook-pies and night-lines forever. The tea
 
 TOM UROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 200 
 
 went merrily off, the doctor now talking of holiday 
 doings, and then of the prospects of the half-year, what 
 chance there was for the Balliol scholarship, whether 
 the eleven would be a good one. Everybody was at 
 his ease, and everybody felt that he, young as he might 
 be, was of some use in the little school world, and had 
 a work to do there. 
 
 Soon after tea the doctor went off to his study, and 
 the young boys a few minutes afterward took their 
 leave, and went out of the private door which led from 
 the doctor's house into the middle passage. 
 
 At the fire, at the further end of the passage, was a 
 crowd of boys in loud talk and laughter. There was 
 a sudden pause when the door opened, and then a great 
 shout of greeting, as Tom was recognized marching 
 down the passage. 
 
 "Hullo, Brown, where do you come from?" 
 
 " Oh, I've been to tea with the doctor," says Tom, 
 with great dignity. 
 
 " My eye ! " cried East. " Oh ! so that's why Mary 
 called you back, and you didn't come to supper. You 
 lost something- that beef and pickles was no end 
 good." 
 
 " I say, young fellow," cried Hall, detecting Arthur, 
 and catching him by the collar, " what's your name ? 
 Where do you come from ? How old are you ? " 
 
 Tom saw Arthur shrink back, and looked scared as 
 all the group turned to him, but thought it best to let 
 him answer, just standing by his side to support in case 
 of need. 
 
 " Arthur, sir. I come from Devonshire." 
 
 " Don't call me ' sir,' you young muff. How old are 
 you?" 
 
 " Thirteen."
 
 210 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 "Can you sing?" 
 
 The poor boy was trembling and hesitating. Tom 
 struck in " You be hanged, Tadpole. He'll have to 
 sing, whether he can or not, Saturday twelve weeks, 
 and that's long enough off yet." 
 
 " Do you know him at home, Brown ? " 
 
 "No; but he's my chum in Gray's old study, and 
 it's near prayer time, and I haven't had a look at it 
 yet. Come along, Arthur." 
 
 Away went the two, Tom longing to get his charge 
 safe under cover, where he might advise him on his 
 deportment. 
 
 "What a queer chum for Tom Brown," was the 
 comment at the fire; and it must be confessed so 
 thought Tom himself, as he lighted his candle, and 
 surveyed the new green-baize curtains and the carpet 
 and sofa with much satisfaction. 
 
 " I say, Arthur, what a brick your mother is to 
 make us so cozy. But look here now, you must an- 
 swer straight up when the fellows speak to you, and 
 don't be afraid. If you're afraid, you'll get bullied. 
 And don't you say you can sing; and don't you ever 
 talk about home, or your mother and sisters." 
 
 Poor little Arthur looked ready to cry. 
 
 " But please," said he, " mayn't I talk about about 
 home to you ? " 
 
 " Oh yes, I like it. But don't talk to boys you don't 
 know, or they'll call you home sick, or mamma's dar- 
 ling, or some such stuff. What a jolly desk ! Is that 
 yours? And what stunning binding? why, your 
 school-books look like novels ! " 
 
 And Tom was soon deep in Arthur's goods and chat- 
 tels, all new and good enough for a fifth-form boy, 
 and hardly thought of his friends outside, till the 
 prayer-bell rung.
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 211 
 
 I have already described the school-house prayers ; 
 they were the same on the first night as on the other 
 nights, save for the gaps caused by the absence of 
 those boys who came late, and the line of new boys 
 who stood all together at the further table of all 
 sorts and sizes, like young bears with all their troubles 
 to come, as Tom's father had said to him when he was 
 in the same position. He thought of it as he looked 
 at the line, and poor little, slight Arthur standing with 
 them, and as he was leading him up-stairs to Number 
 4, directly after prayers, and showing him his bed. It 
 was a huge, high airy room, with two large windows 
 looking on to the school close. There were twelve beds in 
 the room. The one in the furthest corner by the fire- 
 place, occupied by the sixth-form boy who was respon- 
 sible for the discipline of the room, and the rest by 
 boys in the lower-fifth and other junior forms, all fags 
 (for the fifth-form boys, as has been said, slept in rooms 
 by themselves). Being fags, the eldest of them was 
 not more than about sixteen years old, and were all 
 bound to be up and in bed by ten ; the sixth-form boys 
 came to bed from ten to a quarter-past (at which time 
 the old verger came round to put the candles out), ex- 
 cept when they sat up to read. 
 
 Within a few minutes, therefore, of their entry, all 
 the other boys who slept in Number 4, had come up. 
 The little fellows went quietly to their own beds, and 
 began undressing and talking to each other in whis- 
 pers ; while the elder, among whom was Tom, sat 
 chatting about on one another's beds, with their jackets 
 and waistcoats off. Poor little Arthur was over- 
 whelmed with the novelty of his position. The idea 
 of sleeping in the room with strange boys had clearly 
 never crossed his mind before, and was as painful as it
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 was strange to him. He could hardly bear to take his 
 jacket off; however, presently, with, an effort, off it 
 came, and then he paused and looked at Tom,, who 
 was sitting at the bottom of his bed talking and 
 laughing. 
 
 " Please, Brown," he whispered, " may I wash my 
 face and hands ? " 
 
 " Of course, if you like," said Tom, staring ; " that's 
 your washhand-stand, under the window, second from 
 your bed. You'll have to go down for more water in 
 the morning if you use it all." And on he went with 
 his talk, while Arthur stole timidly from between the 
 beds out to his washhand-stand, and began his ablu- 
 tions, thereby drawing for a moment on himself the 
 attention of the room. 
 
 On went the talk and laughter. Arthur finished 
 his washing and undressing, and put on his night- 
 gown. He then looked round more nervously than 
 ever. Two or three of the little boys were already in 
 bed, sitting up with their chins on their knees. The 
 light burned clear, the noise went on. It was a try- 
 ing moment for the poor little lonely boy ; however, 
 this time he didn't ask Tom what he might or might 
 not do, but dropped on his knees by his bedside, as he 
 had done every day from his childhood, to open his 
 heart to Him who heareth the cry and beareth the 
 sorrows of the tender child, and the stiong man in 
 agony. 
 
 Tom was sitting at the bottom of his bed unlacing 
 his boots, so that his back was 'toward Arthur, and 
 he didn't see what had happened, and looked up in 
 wonder at the sudden silence. Then two or three 
 boys laughed and sneered, and a big brutal fellow, 
 who was standing in the middle of the room, picked
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 213 
 
 up a slipper, and shied it at the kneeling boy, calling 
 him a sniveling young shaver. Then Tom saw the 
 whole, and the next moment the boot he had just 
 pulled off flew straight at the head of the bully, who had 
 just time to throw up his arm and catch it on his elbow. 
 
 " Confound you, Brown, what's that for ? " roared he, 
 stamping with pain. 
 
 "Never mind what I mean," said Tom, stepping on 
 to the floor, every drop of blood in his body tingling ; 
 " if any fellow wants the other boot, he knows how to 
 get it." 
 
 What would have been the result is doubtful, for 
 at this moment the sixth-form boy came in, and not 
 another word could be said. Tom and the rest rushed 
 into bed and finished their unrobing there, and the old 
 verger, as punctual as the clock, had put out the candle 
 in another minute, and toddled on to the next room, 
 shutting their door with his usual " Good night 
 genl'm'n." 
 
 There were many boys in the room by whom that 
 little scene was taken to heart before they slept. But 
 sleep seemed to have deserted the pillow of poor Tom. 
 For some time his excitement, and the flood of memo- 
 ries which chased one another through his brain, 
 kept him from thinking or resolving. His head 
 throbbed, his heart leaped, and he could hardly keep 
 himself from springing out of bed and rushing about 
 the room. Then the thought of his own mother 
 came across him, and the promise he had made 
 at her knee, years ago, never to forget to kneel 
 by his bedside, and give himself up to his Father, be- 
 fore he laid his head on the pillow, from which it 
 might never rise; and he lay down gently and cried as if 
 his heart would break. He was only fourteen years old.
 
 ?it TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DATS. 
 
 It was no light act of courage in those days my 
 dear boys, for a little fellow to say his prayers publicly 
 even at Rugby. A few years later, when Arnold's 
 manly piety had begun to leaven the school, the tables 
 turned; before he died, in the school-house at least, 
 and I believe in the other houses, the rule was the 
 other way. But poor Tom had come to school in 
 other times. The first few nights after he came he 
 did not kneel down because of the noise, but sat up in 
 bed till the candle was out, and then stole out and 
 said his prayers in fear, lest some one should find him 
 out. So did many another poor little fellow. Then 
 he began to think that he might just as well say his 
 prayers in bed, and then that it didn't matter whether 
 he was kneeling, or sitting, or lying down. And so 
 it had come to pass with Tom as with all who will 
 not confess their Lord before men : and for the last 
 year he had probably not said his prayers in earnest a 
 dozen times. 
 
 Poor Tom! the first and bitterest feeling which 
 was like to break his heart was the sense of his own 
 cowardice. The vice of all others which he loathed 
 was brought in and burned in on his own soul. He had 
 lied to his mother, to his conscience, to his God. How 
 could he bear it ? And then the poor little weak boy, 
 whom he had pitied and almost scorned for his weak- 
 ness, had done that which he, braggart as he was, dared 
 not do. The first dawn of comfort came to him in 
 swearing to himself that he would stand by that boy 
 through thick and thin, and cheer him, and help him, 
 and bear his burdens, for the good deed done that night. 
 Then he resolved to write home next day and tell his 
 mother all, and what a coward her son had been. And 
 then peace came to him as he resolved, lastly, to bear
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 215 
 
 his testimony next morning. The morning would be 
 harder than the night to begin with, but he felt that 
 he could not afford to let one chance slip. Several 
 times he faltered, for the devil showed him, first, all 
 his old friends calling him "Saint" and "Square-toes," 
 and a dozen hard names, and whispered to him that 
 his motives would be misunderstood, and he would only 
 be left alone with the new boy ; whereas it was his 
 duty to keep all means of influence, that he might do 
 good to the largest number. And then came the more 
 subtle temptation, " Shall I not be showing myself 
 braver than others by doing this? Have I any right 
 to begin it now ? Ought I not rather to pray in my 
 own study, letting other boys know that I do so, and 
 trying to lead them to it, while in public at least I 
 should go on as I have done ? " However, his good 
 angel was too strong that night, and he turned on his 
 side and slept, tired of trying to reason, but resolved 
 to follow the impulse which had been so strong, and in 
 which he had found peace. 
 
 Next morning he was up and washed and dressed, all 
 but his jacket and waistcoat, just as the ten minutes' 
 bell began to ring, and then in the face of the whole 
 room knelt down to pray. Not five words could he 
 say the bell mocked him ; he was listening for every 
 whisper in the room what were they all thinking of 
 him ? He was ashamed to go on kneeling, ashamed to 
 rise from his knees. At last, as it were from his inmost 
 heart, a still small voice seemed to breathe forth the 
 words of the publican, " God be merciful to me a sin- 
 ner ! " He repeated them over and over, clinging to 
 them as for his life, and rose from his knees comforted 
 and humbled, and ready to face the whole world. It 
 was not needed : two other boys besides Arthur hud
 
 216 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 already followed his example, and he went down to the 
 great school with a glimmering of another lesson in his 
 heart the lesson that he who has conquered his own 
 coward spirit has conquered the whole outward world ; 
 and that other one which the old prophet learned in the 
 cave in "Mount Horeb, when he hid his face, and the 
 still small voice asked, " What doest thou here, Elijah ? " 
 that however we may fancy ourselves alone on the side 
 of good, the King and Lord of men is nowhere without 
 His witnesses ; for in every society, however seemingly 
 corrupt and godless, there are those who have not 
 bowed the knee to Baal. 
 
 He found too how greatly he had exaggerated the 
 effect to be produced by his act. For a few nights 
 there was a sneer or a laugh when he knelt down, but 
 this passed off soon and one by one all the other boys 
 but three or four followed the lead. I fear that this 
 was in some measure owing to the fact, that Tom 
 could probably have thrashed any boy in the room ex- 
 cept the praepostor ; at any rate, every boy knew that 
 he would try upon very slight provocation, and 
 didn't choose to run the risk of a hard fight because 
 Tom Brown had taken a fancy to say his prayers. 
 Some of the small boys of Number 4 communicated 
 the new state of things to their chums, and in several 
 other rooms the poor little fellow tried it on ; in one 
 instance or so where the praepostor heard of it and in- 
 terfered very decidedly, with partial success : but in 
 the rest, after a short struggle, the confessors were 
 bullied or laughed down, and the old state of things 
 went on for some time longer. Before either Tom 
 Brown or Arthur left the school-house, there was no 
 room in which it had not become the regular custom. 
 I trust it is so still, and that the old heathen state of 
 things has gone out forever.
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 217 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE NEW BOY. 
 
 "And Heaven's rich instincts in him grew, 
 As effortless as woodland nooks 
 Send violets up and paint them blue." LOWELL. 
 
 I DO not mean to recount all the little troubles and 
 annoyances which thronged upon Tom at the begin- 
 ning of this half-year, in his new character of bear- 
 leader to a gentle little boy straight from home. He 
 seemed to himself to have become a new boy again, 
 without any of the long-suffering and meekness indis- 
 pensable for supporting that character with moderate 
 success. From morning till night he had the feeling 
 of responsibility on his mind ; and even if he left 
 Arthur in their study or in the close for an hour, was 
 never at ease till he had him in sight again. He 
 waited for him at the doors of the school after every 
 lesson and every calling-over ; watched that no tricks 
 were played him and none but the regulation ques- 
 tions asked ; kept his eye on his plate at dinner and 
 breakfast, to see that no unfair depredations were 
 made upon his viands ; in short, as East remarked, 
 cackled after him like a hen with one chick. 
 
 Arthur took a long time thawing, too, which made 
 it all the harder work; .was sadly timid ; scarcely ever 
 spoke unless Tom spoke to him first ; and, worst of all, 
 would agree with him in everything, the hardest thing 
 in the world for a Brown to bear. He got quite angry 
 sometimes, as they sat together of a night in their 
 study, at this provoking habit of agreement, and was 
 on the point of breaking out a dozen times with a lec- 
 ture upon the propriety of a fellow having a will of his 
 own and speaking out ; but managed to restrain him-
 
 218 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 self by the thought that it might only frighten Ar- 
 thur, and the remembrance of the lesson he had 
 learned from him on his first night at Number 4. 
 Then he would resolve to sit still, and not say a word 
 till Arthur began ; but he was alwa} 7 s beat at that 
 game, and had presently to begin talking in despair, 
 fearing lest Arthur might think he was vexed at some- 
 thing if he didn't, and dog-tired of sitting tongue- 
 tied. 
 
 It was hard work! But Tom had taken it up, and 
 meant to stick to it, and go through with it, so as to 
 satisfy himself ; in which resolution he was much as- 
 sisted by the chaffing of East and his other old friends, 
 who began to call him " dry-nurse," and otherwise to 
 break their small wit on him. But when they took 
 other ground, as they did every now and then, Tom was 
 sorely puzzled. 
 
 "Tell you what, Tommy," East would say, "you'll 
 spoil young Hopeful with too much coddling. Why 
 can't you let him go about by himself and find his own 
 level ? He'll never be worth a button, if you go on 
 keeping him under your skirts." 
 
 "Well, but he ain't fit to fight his own way yet ; 
 I'm trying to get him to it every day but he's very 
 odd. Poor little beggar ! I can't make him out a bit. 
 He ain't a bit like anything I've ever seen or heard of 
 he seems all over nerves ; anything you say seems 
 to hurt him like a cut or a blow." 
 
 "That sort of boy's no use here," said East, "he'll 
 only spoil. Now, I'll tell you what to do, Tommy. Go 
 and get a nice large band-box made, and put him in 
 with a plenty of cotton w r ool, and a pap-bottle, labeled 
 ' With care this side up,' and send him back to 
 mamma,"
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 " I think I shall make a hand of him though," said 
 Tom, smiling, "say what you will. There's something 
 about him, every now and then, which shows me he's 
 got pluck somewhere in him. That's the only thing 
 after all, that'll wash, ain't it, old Scud ? But how to 
 get at it and bring it out ? " 
 
 Tom took one hand out of his breeches-pocket and 
 stuck it in his back hair for a scratch, giving his hat 
 a tilt over his nose, his one methed of invoking wis- 
 dom. He stared at the ground with a ludicrously puz- 
 zled look, and presently looked up and met East's eyes. 
 That young gentleman slapped him on the back, and 
 then put his arm round his shoulder, as they strolled 
 through the quadrangle together. " Tom," said he, 
 " blest if you ain't the best old fellow ever was I do 
 like to see you go into a thing. Hang it, I wish 1 
 could take things as you do but I never can get 
 higher than a joke. Everything's a joke. If I was 
 going to be flogged the next minute, I should be in a 
 blue funk, but I couldn't help laughing at it for the 
 life of me." 
 
 " Brown and East, you go and fag for Jones on the 
 great fives' -court." 
 
 "Hullo, though, that's past a joke," broke out 
 East, springing at the young gentleman who ad- 
 dressed them, and catching him by the collar. " Here, 
 Tommy, catch hold of him t'other side before he can 
 holla." 
 
 The youth was seized, and dragged struggling out 
 of the quadrangle into the school-house hall. lie was 
 one of the miserable little pretty white-handed curly- 
 headed bo3 7 s, petted and pampered by some of the big 
 fellows, who wrote their verses for them, taught them 
 to drink and use bad language, and did all they could
 
 220 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 to spoil them for everything * in this world and the 
 next. One of the avocations in which these young 
 gentlemen took particular delight, was in going about 
 and getting fags for their protectors, when those 
 heroes were playing any game. They carried about 
 pencil and paper with them, putting down the names 
 of all the boys they sent, always sending five times as 
 many as were wanted, and getting all those thrashed 
 who didn't go. The present youth belonged to a house 
 which was very jealous of the school-house, and always 
 picked out school-house fags when he could find them. 
 However, this time he'd got the wrong sow by the ear. 
 His captors slammed the great door of the hall, and 
 East put his back against it, while Tom gave the pris- 
 ener a shake-up, took away his list, and stood him up 
 on the floor, while he proceeded leisurely to examine 
 that document. 
 
 " Let me out, let me go ! " screamed the boy in a 
 furious passion. " I'll go and tell Jones this minute, 
 
 and he'll give you both the thrashing you ever 
 
 had." 
 
 " Pretty little dear," said East, patting the top of 
 his hat ; " hark how he swears, Tom. Nicely brought 
 up young man, ain't he ? I don't think." 
 
 "Let me alone, -you," roared the boy, foaming 
 with rage, and kicking at East, who quietly tripped 
 him up, and deposited him on the floor in a place of 
 safety. 
 
 " Gently, young fellow," said he ; "'tain't improving 
 
 * A kind and wise critic, an old Rugbcean, notes here in tLe 
 margin: The "small friend system w&s not so utterly bad from 
 1841-1847." Before that, too, there were many noble friendships 
 between big and little boys, but I can't strike out the passage: many 
 boys will know why it is left in.
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 221 
 
 for little \vhi ppersnappers like you to be indulging in 
 blasphemy ; so you stop that, or you'll get something 
 you won't like." 
 
 " I'll have you both licked when I get out, that I 
 will," rejoined the boy, beginning to snivel. 
 
 " Two can play at that game, mind you," said Tom 
 who had finished his examination of the list. " Now 
 you just listen here. We've just come across the fives'- 
 court, and Jones has four fags there already, two more 
 than he wants. If he'd wanted us to change, he'd 
 have stopped us himself. And here, you little black- 
 guard, you've got seven names down on your list 
 beside ours, and live of them school-house." Tom 
 walked up to him and jerked him on to his legs ; 
 he was by this time whining like a whipped 
 puppy. 
 
 "Now just listen to me. "We ain't going to fag for 
 Jones. If you tell him you've sent us, we'll each of us 
 give you such a thrashing as you'll remember." And 
 Tom tore up the list and threw the pieces into the 
 fire. 
 
 "And mind you too," said East, "don't let me catch 
 you again sneaking about the school-house, and picking 
 up our fags. You haven't got the sort of hide to take 
 a sound licking kindly ; " and he opened the door and 
 sent the young gentleman flying into the quadrangle, 
 with a parting kick. 
 
 "Nice boy, Tommy," said East, shoving his hands 
 in his pockets and strolling to the fire. 
 
 " Worst sort we breed," responded Tom, following 
 his example. " Thank goodness, no big fellow ever 
 took to petting me." 
 
 " You'd never have been like that," said East. " I 
 should like to have put him in a museum Christian.
 
 222 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 young gentleman, nineteenth century, highly educated. 
 Stir him up with a long pole, Jack, and hear him swear 
 like a drunken sailor ! he'd make a respectable public 
 open its eyes, I think." 
 
 " Think he'll tell Jones ?" said Tom. 
 
 " No," said East. " Don't care if he does." 
 
 " Nor I," said Tom. And they went back to talk 
 about Arthur. 
 
 The young gentleman had brains enough not to tell 
 Jones, reasoning that East and Brown, who were noted 
 as some of the toughest fags in the school, wouldn't 
 care three straws for any licking Jones might give 
 them, and would be likely to keep their words as to 
 passing it on with interest. 
 
 After the above conversation, East came a good deal 
 to their study, and took notice of Arthur ; and soon 
 allowed to Tom that he was a thorough little gentle- 
 man, and would get over his shyness all in good time ; 
 which much comforted our hero. lie felt every day, 
 too, the value of having an object in his life, something 
 that drew him out of himself; and, it being the dull 
 time of the year, and no games going about which he 
 much cared, was happier than he had ever yet been at 
 school, which was saying a great deal. 
 
 The time which Tom allowed himself away from his 
 charge, was from locking-up till supper-time. During 
 this hour or hour-and-half he used to take his fling, 
 going round to the studies of all his acquaintance, 
 sparring or gossiping in the hall, now jumping the old 
 iron bound tables, or carving a bit of his name on them, 
 then joining in some chorus of merry voices; in fact, 
 blowing off his steam, as we should now call it. 
 
 This process was so congenial to his temper, and 
 Arthur showed himself so pleased at the arrangement,
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 22.1 
 
 that it was several weeks before Tom was ever in their 
 study before supper. One evening, however, he rushed 
 in to look for an old chisel, or some corks, or other 
 articles essential to his pursuit for the time being, and 
 while rummaging about in the cupboards, looked up 
 for a moment, and was caught at once by the figure of 
 poor little Arthur. The boy was sitting with his 
 elbows on the table, and his head leaning on his hands, 
 and before him an open book, on which his tears were 
 falling fast. Tom shut the door at once, and sat down 
 on the sofa by Arthur, putting his arm round his neck. 
 
 "Why, young un ! what's the matter?" said he, 
 kindly ; " you ain't unhappy, are you ? " 
 
 " Oh, no, Brown," said the little boy, looking up 
 with the great tears in his eyes, " you are so kind to 
 me, I'm very happy." 
 
 " Why don't you call me Tom ? lots of boys do that 
 I don't like half so much as you. What are you read- 
 ing, then ! Hang it, you must come about with me, 
 and not mope yourself," and Tom cast down his eyes 
 on the book, and saw it was the Bible. He was silent 
 for a minute, and thought to himself, " Lesson Num- 
 ber 2, Tom Brown ; " and then said gently : 
 
 "I'm very glad to see this, Arthur, and ashamed 
 that I don't read the Bible more myself. Do you read 
 it every night before supper while I'm out ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Well, I wish you'd wait till afterward, and then 
 we'd read together. But, Arthur, why does it make 
 you cry ? " 
 
 " Oh, it isn't that I'm unhappy. But at home, while 
 my father was alive, we always read the lessons after 
 tea ; and I love to read them over now, and try to re- 
 member what he said about them. I can't remember
 
 224 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 all, and I think I scarcely understand a great deal of 
 what I do remember. But it all comes back to me so 
 fresh, that I can't help crying sometimes to think I 
 shall never read them again with him." 
 
 Arthur had never spoken of his home before, and 
 Tom hadn't encouraged him to do so, as his blundering 
 school-boy reasoning made him think that Arthur 
 would be softened and less manly for thinking of home. 
 But now he was fairly interested, and forgot all about 
 chisels and bottled beer; while with very little en- 
 couragement Arthur launched into his home history, 
 and the prayer-bell put them both out sadly when it 
 rang to call them to the hall. 
 
 From this time Arthur constantly spoke of his home, 
 and above all, of his father, who had been dead about 
 a year, and whose memory Tom soon got to love and 
 reverence almost as much as his own son did. 
 
 Arthur's father had been the clergyman of a parish 
 In the midland counties, which had risen into a large 
 town during the war, and upon which the hard years 
 which followed had fallen with a fearful weight. The 
 trade had been half ruined : and then came the old sad 
 story, of masters reducing their establishments, men 
 turned off and wandering about, hungry and wan in 
 body and fierce in soul, from the thought of wives and 
 children starving at home, and the last sticks of furni- 
 ture going to the pawn shop. Children taken from 
 school, and lounging about the dirty streets and courts, 
 too listless almost to play, and squalid in rags and 
 misery. And then the fearful struggle between the 
 employers and men ; lowerings of wages, strikes, and 
 the long course of oft-repeated crime, ending every 
 now and then with a riot, afire, and the county yeo- 
 manry. There is no need here to dwell upon such
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 225 
 
 tales ; the Englishman into whose soul they have not 
 sunk deep is not worthy the name ; you English 
 boys for whom this book is meant (God bless your 
 bright faces and kind hearts !) will learn it all soon 
 enough. 
 
 Into such a parish and state of society, Arthur's 
 father had been thrown at the age of twenty-five, a 
 young married parson, full of faith, hope, and love. 
 He had battled with it like a man, and had lots of fine 
 Utopian ideas about the perfectibility of mankind, glo- 
 rious humanity and such like, knocked out of his head ; 
 and a real, wholesome, Christian love for the poor 
 struggling, sinning men, of whom he felt himself one, 
 and with and for whom he spent fortune, and strength, 
 and life, driven into his heart. He had battled like a 
 man, and gotten a man's reward. No silver teapots or 
 salvers, with flowery inscriptions, setting forth his vir- 
 tues and the appreciation of a genteel parish ; no fat liv- 
 ing or stall, for which he never looked, and didn't 
 care; no sighs and praises of comfortable dowagers 
 and well got-up young women, who worked him slip- 
 pers, sugared his tea, and adored him as a " devoted 
 man ; " but a manly respect, wrung from the unwilling 
 souls of men who fancied his order their natural 
 enemies ; the fear and hatred of every one who was 
 false or unjust in the district, were he master or man ; 
 and the blessed sight of women and children daily 
 becoming more human and more homely, a comfort to 
 themselves and to their husbands and fathers. 
 
 These things, of course, took time, and had to be 
 fought for with toil and sweat of brain and heart, and 
 with the life-blood poured out. All that, Arthur had 
 laid his account to give, and took as a matter of course ; 
 neither pitying himself, or looking on himself as a
 
 226 TOM BROWN'S scfioOL DATS. 
 
 martyr, when he felt the wear and tear making him 
 feel old before his time, and the stifling air of fever 
 dens telling on his health. His wife seconded him in 
 everything. She had been rather fond of society, and 
 much admired and run after before her marriage ; and 
 the London world, to which she had belonged, pitied 
 poor Fanny Evelyn when she married the young cler- 
 gyman and went to settle in that smoky hole, Turley, a 
 very nest of chartism and atheism, in a part of the 
 county which all the decent families had had to leave 
 for years. However, somehow or other, she didn't 
 seem to care. If her husband's living had been among 
 green fields and near pleasant neighbors, she would 
 have liked it better, that she never pretended to deny. 
 But there they were : the air wasn't bad after all ; the 
 people were very good sort of people, civil to you if 
 you were civil to them, after the first brush ; and they 
 didn't expect to work miracles, and convert them all 
 off-hand into model Christians. So he and she went 
 quietly among the folk, talking to and treating them 
 just as they would have done people of their own 
 rank. They didn't feel that they were doing any thing 
 out of the common way, and so were perfectly natural, 
 and had none of that condescension or consciousness 
 of manner which so outrages the independent poor. 
 And thus they gradually won respect and confidence ; 
 and after sixteen years he was looked up to by the 
 whole neighborhood as the just man, the man to whom 
 masters and men could go in their strikes, and in all 
 their quarrels and difficulties, and by whom the right 
 and true word would be said without fear or favor. 
 And the women had come round to take her advice, 
 and go to her as a friend in all their troubles ; while 
 the children all worshiped the very ground she trod on.
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 227 
 
 They had three children, two daughters and a son, 
 little Arthur, who came between his sisters. He had 
 been a very delicate boy from his childhood ; they 
 thought he had a tendency to consumption, and so he 
 had been kept at home and taught by his father, who 
 had made a companion of him, and from whom he had 
 gained good scholarship, and a knowledge of and in- 
 terest in many subjects which boys in general never 
 come across till they are many years older. 
 
 Just as he reached his thirteenth year, and his 
 father had settled that he was strong enough to go to 
 school, and, after much debating with himself, had re- 
 solved to send him there, a desperate typhus-fever 
 broke out in the town; most of the other clergy, and 
 almost all the doctors ran away ; the work fell with 
 tenfold weight on those who stood to their work. 
 Arthur and his wife both caught the fever, of which 
 he died in a few days, and she recovered, having been 
 able to nurse him to the end, and store up his last 
 words. He was sensible to the last, and calm and 
 happy, leaving his wife and children with fearless 
 trust for a few years in the hands of the Lord and 
 Friend who had lived and died for him, and for whom 
 he, to the best of his power, had lived and died. His 
 widow's mourning was deep and gentle ; she was more 
 affected by the request of the committee of a free- 
 thinking club, established in the town by some of the 
 factory hands (which he had striven against with 
 might and main, and nearly suppressed), that some of 
 their number might be allowed to help bear the cof- 
 fin, than by anything else. Two of them were chosen 
 who with six other laboring men, his own fellow-work- 
 men and friends, bore him to his grave a man who 
 had fought the Lord's fight even unto the death, The
 
 228 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 shops wore closed and the factories shut that day in 
 the parish, yet no master stopped the day's wages ; 
 but for many a year afterward the townsfolk felt the 
 want of that brave, hopeful, loving parson, and his 
 wife, who had lived to teach them mutual forbearance 
 and helpfulness, and had almost at last given them a 
 glimpse of what this old world would be if people 
 would live for God and each other, instead of for them- 
 selves. 
 
 What has all this to do with our story ? Well, my 
 dear boys, let a fellow go on his own way, or you 
 won't get anything out of him worth having. I must 
 show you what sort of a man it was who had 
 begotten and trained little Arthur, or else you won't 
 believe in him, which I am resolved you shall do ; 
 and you won't see how he, the timid, weak boy, had 
 points in him from which the bravest and strongest 
 recoiled, and made his presence and example felt 
 from the first on all sides, unconsciously to himself, 
 and without the least attempt at proselytizing. 
 The spirit of his father was in him; and the Friend 
 to whom his father had left him did not neglect the 
 trust. 
 
 After supper that night, and almost nightly for 
 years afterward, Tom and Arthur, and by degrees 
 East occasionally, and sometimes one, sometimes an- 
 other, of their friends, read a chapter of the Bible 
 together, and talked it over afterward. Tom was at 
 first utterly astonished, and almost shocked, at the 
 sort of way in which Arthur read the book, and 
 talked about the men and women whose lives were 
 there told. The first night they happened to fall on 
 the chapters about the famine in Egypt, and Arthur 
 begun talking about Joseph as jf lie were a Jiving
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 229 
 
 statesman ; just as he might have talked about Lord 
 Grey and the reform bill ; only that they were much 
 more living realities to him. The book was to him, 
 Tom saw, the most vivid and delightful history of 
 real people, who might do right or wrong, just like 
 any one who was walking about in Rugby the doctor 
 or the masters, or the sixth -form boys. But the aston- 
 ishment soon passed off, the scales seemed to drop 
 from his eyes, and the book became at once and for- 
 ever* to him the great human and divine book, and the 
 men and women, whom he had looked upon as some- 
 thing quite different from himself, became his friends 
 and counsellors. 
 
 For our purposes, however, the history of one 
 night's reading will be sufficient, which must be told 
 here, now we are on the subject, though it didn't hap- 
 pen till a year afterward, and long after the events re- 
 corded in the next chapter of our story. 
 
 Arthur, Tom, and East were together one night, and 
 read the story of Naaman coming toElisha to be cured 
 of his leprosy. When the chapter was finished, Tom 
 shut his Bible with a slap. 
 
 "I can't stand that fellow Naaman," said he "after 
 what he'd seen and felt, going back and bowing him- 
 self down in the house of Rimmon, because his effem- 
 inate scoundrel of a master did it. I wonder Elisha 
 took the trouble to heal him. How he must have de- 
 spised him." 
 
 " Yes, there you go off as usual, with a shell on your 
 head," struck in East, who always took the opposite 
 side to Tom ; half from love of argument, half from 
 conviction. " How do you know he didn't think 
 better of it ? How do you know his master was a 
 scoundrel ? His letter don't look like it, and the 
 book don't sav so "
 
 230 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 " I don't care," rejoined Tom ; " why did Naaman 
 talk about bowing down, then, if he didn't mean to 
 do it ! He wasn't likely to get more in earnest 
 when he got back to court, and away from the 
 prophet." 
 
 " Well but, Tom," said Arthur, " look what Elisha 
 says to him, 'Go in peace.' He wouldn't have said 
 that if Naaman had been in the wrong." 
 
 "I don't see that that means more than saying, 
 ' You're not the man I took you for.' " 
 
 "No, no, that won't do at all," said East; "read 
 the words fairly, and take men as you find them. I 
 like Naaman, and think he was a very fine fellow." 
 
 " I don't," said Tom, positively. 
 
 "Well, I think East is right," said Arthur; "I 
 can't see but what it's right to do the best you can, 
 though it mayn't be the best absolutely. Every man 
 isn't born to be a martyr." 
 
 " Of course, of course," said East ; " but he's on one 
 of his pet hobbies. How often have I told you, Tom, 
 that you must drive a nail where it'll go." 
 
 "And how often have I told you," rejoined Tom, 
 "that it'll always go where you want, if you only 
 stick to it and hit hard enough. I hate half measures 
 and compromises." 
 
 "Yes, he's a whole-hog man, is Tom. Must have 
 the whole animal, hair and teeth, claws and tail," 
 laughed East. " Sooner have no bread any day than 
 half the loaf." 
 
 " I don't know," said Arthur, " it's rather puzzling ; 
 but ain't most right things got by proper compromises, 
 I mean where the principle isn't given up?" 
 
 " That's just the point," said Tom; " I don't object to 
 a compromise where you don't give up your principle."
 
 TOM BKOWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 231 
 
 "Not you," said East, laughingly. "I know him of 
 old, Arthur, and you'll find him out some day. There 
 isn't such a reasonable fellow in the world, to hear him 
 talk. He never wants anything but what's right and 
 fair; only when you come to settle what's right and 
 fair, it's everything that he wants, and nothing that 
 you want. And that's his idea of a compromise. 
 Give me the Brown compromise when I'm on his 
 side." 
 
 "Now, Harry," said Tom, "no more chaff I'm 
 serious. Look here this is what makes my blood 
 tingle ; " and he turned over the pages of his Bible and 
 read, " Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego answered and 
 said to the king, ' O Nebuchadnezzar, we are not care- 
 ful to answer thee in this matter. If it ~be so, our God 
 whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning 
 fiery furnace, and He will deliver us out of thine 
 hand, O king. But if not, be it known unto thee, O 
 king, that we will not serve thy gods, nor worship the 
 golden image which thou hast set up.' " He read the 
 last verse twice, emphasizing the nots, and dwelling on 
 them as if they gave him actual pleasure, and were 
 hard to part with. 
 
 They were silent a minute, and then Arthur said, 
 "Yes, that's a glorious story, but it don't prove your 
 point, Tom, I think. There are times when there is 
 only one way, and that the highest, and then the men 
 are found to stand in the breach." 
 
 " There's always a highest way, and it's always the 
 right one," said Tom. "How many times has the 
 doctor told us that in his sermons in the last year, I 
 should like to know ? " 
 
 " Well, you ain't going to convince us, is he, Arthur ? 
 $"0 Brown compromise to-night," said East, looking at
 
 232 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 his watch. "But it's past eight, and we must go to 
 first lesson. What a bore ! " 
 
 So they took down their books and fell to work ; but 
 Arthur didn't forget, and thought long and often over 
 the conversation.
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 233 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 ARTHUR MAKES A FRIEND. 
 
 " Let Nature be your teacher : 
 Sweet is the lore which Nature brings ; 
 Our meddling intellect 
 Mis-shapes the beauteous forms of things 
 We murder to dissect 
 Enough of Science and of Art ; 
 Close up those barren leaves : 
 Come forth, and bring with you a heart 
 That watches and receives." WORDSWORTH. 
 
 ABOUT six weeks after the beginning of the half, as 
 Tom and Arthur were sitting one night before supper 
 beginning their verses, Arthur suddenly stopped, and 
 looked up, and said, " Tom, do you know anything of 
 Martin ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Tom, taking his hand out of his back 
 hair, and delighted to throw his Gradus ad Parnassum 
 on to the sofa ; " I know him pretty well. He's a very 
 good fellow, but as mad as a hatter. He's called Mad- 
 man, you know. And never was such a fellow for 
 getting all sorts of rum things about him. He tamed 
 two snakes last half, and used to carry them about in 
 his pocket, and I'll be bound he's got some hedge-hogs 
 and rats in his cupboard now, and no one knows what 
 besides." 
 
 " I should like very much to know him," said Arthur ; 
 " he was next to me in the form to-day, and he'd lost 
 his book and looked over mine, and he seemed so kind 
 and gentle, that I liked him very much." 
 
 "Ah, poor old Madman, he's always losing his 
 books," said Tom, " and getting called up and floored 
 because he hasn't got them."
 
 234 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 "I like him all the better," said Arthur. 
 
 " Well, he's great fun, I can tell you," said Tom, 
 throwing himself back on the sofa, and chuckling at 
 the remembrance. " We had such a game with him 
 one day last half. He had been kicking up horrid 
 stinks for some time in his study, till I suppose some 
 fellow told Mary, and she told the doctor. Anyhow, 
 one day a little before dinner, when he came down from 
 the library, the doctor, instead of going home, came 
 striding into the hall. East and I and five or six other 
 fellows were at the fire, and preciously we stared, for 
 he don't come in like that once a-year, unless it is a 
 wet day and there's a fight in the Hall. ' East,' says 
 he, ' just come and show me Martin's study.' ' Oh, 
 here's a game,' whispered the rest of us, and we all cut 
 up-stairs after the doctor, East leading. As we got 
 into the New Row, which was hardly wide enough to 
 hold the doctor and his gown, click, click, click, we 
 heard in the old Madman's den. Then that stopped all 
 of a sudden, and the bolts went to like fun ; the Mad- 
 man knew East's step, and thought there was going to 
 be a siege. 
 
 " ' It's the doctor, Martin. He's here, and wants to 
 see you,' sings out East. 
 
 " Then the bolts went back slowly, and the door 
 opened, and there was the old Madman standing, 
 looking precious scared ; his jacket off, his shirt-sleeves 
 up to his elbows, and his long, skinny arms all covered 
 with anchors and arrows and letters, tattooed in with 
 gun-powder like a sailor boy's, and a stink fit to knock 
 you down coming out. 'Twas all the doctor could do 
 to stand his ground, and East and I, who were look- 
 ing in under his arms, held our noses tight. The old 
 magpie was standing on the window-sill, all his fea^
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 235 
 
 thers drooping, and looking disgusted and half- 
 poisoned. 
 
 " ' What can you be about, Martin ? ' says the doc- 
 tor ; ' you really mustn't go on in this way you're 
 a nuisance to the whole passage.' 
 
 " ' Please, sir, I was only mixing up this powder, 
 there isn't any harm in it;' and the Madman seized 
 nervously on his pestle and mortar, to show the doctor 
 the harmlessness of his pursuits, and went off pound- 
 ing ; click, click, click ; he hadn't given six clicks be- 
 fore, puff ! up went the whole into a great blaze, away 
 went the pestle and mortar across the study, and back 
 we tumbled into the passage. The magpie fluttered 
 down into the court, swearing, and the Madman 
 danced out, howling, with his fingers in his mouth. 
 The doctor caught hold of him, and called to us to 
 fetch some water. ' There, you silly fellow,' said he, 
 quite pleased though, to find he wasn't much hurt, 
 'you see you don't know the least what you're doing 
 with all these things ; and, now, mind, you must give 
 up practising chemistry by yourself.' Then he took 
 hold of his arm and looked at it, and I saw he had to 
 bite his lip, and his eyes twinkled; but he said, quite 
 grave, ' here, you see, you've been been making all 
 these foolish marks on yourself, which you can never 
 get out, and you'll be very sorry for it in a year or 
 two : now come down to the housekeeper's room, and 
 let us see if you are hurt.' And away went the two, 
 and we all stayed and had a regular turn-out of the 
 den, till Martin came back, with his hand bandaged, 
 and turned us out. However, I'll go and see what he's 
 after, and tell him to come in after prayers to supper." 
 And away went Tom to find the boy in question, who 
 dwelt in a little study by himself, in New Row.
 
 236 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 The aforesaid Martin, whom Arthur had taken such 
 a fancy for, was one of those unfortunates who were 
 at that time of day (and are, I fear, still) quite out 
 of their places at a public school. If we knew how to 
 use our boys, Martin would have been seized upon and 
 educated as a natural philosopher. He had a passion 
 for birds, beasts, and insects, and knew more of them 
 and their habits than any one in Rugby ; except, per- 
 haps, the doctor, who knew everything. He was also 
 an experimental chemist on a small scale, and had 
 made unto himself an electric machine, from which it 
 was his greatest pleasure and glory to administer small 
 shocks to any small boys who were rash enough to 
 venture into his study. And this was by no means an 
 adventure free from excitement; for besides the proba- 
 bility of a snake dropping on to your head or twining 
 lovingly up your leg, or a rat getting into your breeches- 
 pocket in search of food, there was the animal and 
 chemical odor to be faced, which always hung about 
 the den, and the chance of being blown up in some of 
 the many experiments which Martin was always try- 
 ing, with the most wondrous results in the shape of ex- 
 plosions and smells, that mortal boy ever heard of. Of 
 course, poor Martin, in consequence of his pursuits, 
 had become an Ishmaelite in the house. In the first 
 place, he half -poisoned all his neighbors, and they in turn 
 were always on the look-out to pounce upon any of 
 his numerous live-stock, and drive him frantic by en- 
 ticing his pet old magpie out of his window into a 
 neighboring study, and making the disreputable old 
 bird drunk on toast soaked in beer and sugar. Then 
 Martin, for his sins, inhabited a study looking into a 
 small court some ten feet across, the window of which 
 was completely commanded by those of the studies
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 237 
 
 opposite in the Sick-room Row, these latter being at a 
 slightly higher elevation. East, and another boy of 
 an equally tormenting and ingenious turn of mind, 
 now lived exactly opposite, and had expended huge 
 pains and time in the preparation of instruments of 
 annoyance for the behoof of Martin and his live col- 
 ony. One morning an old basket made its appearance, 
 suspended by a short cord outside Martin's window, in 
 which were deposited an amateur nest containing four 
 young hungry jackdaws, the pride and glory of Martin's 
 life for the time being, and which he was currently as- 
 serted to have hatched upon his own person. Early in 
 the morning, and late at night he was to be seen half 
 out of window, administering to the varied wants of his 
 callow brood. After deep cogitation, East and his 
 chum had spliced a knife on to the end of a fishing- 
 rod ; and having watched Martin out, had, after half- 
 an-hour's severe sawing, cut the string by which the 
 basket was suspended, and tumbled it on to the pave- 
 ment below, with hideous remonstrance from the occu- 
 pants. Poor Martin, returning from his short absence, 
 collected the fragments and replaced his brood (except 
 one whose neck had been broken in the descent) in 
 their old location, suspending them this time by string 
 and wire twisted together, defiant of any sharp instru- 
 ment which his persecutors could command. But, like 
 the Russian engineers at Sebastopol, East, and his 
 chum had an answer for every move of the adversary ; 
 and the next day had mounted a gun in the shape of a 
 pea-shooter upon the ledge of their window, trained so 
 as to bear exactly upon the spot which Martin had to oc- 
 cupy while tending his nurselings. The moment he 
 began to feed, they began to shoot ; in vain did the 
 enemy himself invest in a pea-shooter, and endeavor
 
 238 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 to answer the fire while he fed the young birds with 
 his other hand ; his attention was divided, and his 
 shots flew wild, while every one of theirs told on his 
 face and hands, and drove him into bowlings and im- 
 precations. He had been driven to ensconce the nest 
 in a corner of his already too well-filled den. 
 
 His door was barricaded by a set of ingenious bolts 
 of his own invention, for the sieges were frequent by 
 the neighbors when any unusually ambrosial odor 
 spread itself from the den to the neighboring studies. 
 The door panels were in a normal state of smash, but 
 the frame of the door resisted all besiegers, and behind 
 it the owner carried on his varied pursuits ; much in 
 the same state of mind, I should fancy, as a border- 
 farmer lived in, in the days of the old mosstroopers, 
 when his hold might be summoned or his cattle carried 
 off at any minute of night or day. 
 
 " Open, Martin, old boy it's only I, Tom Brown." 
 
 "Oh, very well, stop a moment." One bolt went 
 back. " You're sure East isn't there?" 
 
 " No, no, hang it, open." Tom gave a kick, the 
 other bolt creaked, and he entered the den. 
 
 Den indeed it was, about five feet six inches long 
 by five wide, and seven feet high. About six tattered 
 school-books, and a few chemical books, " Taxidermy," 
 " Stanley on Birds," and an odd volume of " Bewick," 
 the latter in much better preservation, occupied the 
 top shelves. The other shelves, where they had not 
 been cut away and used by the owner for other pur- 
 poses, were fitted up for the abiding places of birds, 
 beasts and reptiles. There was no attempt at carpet 
 or curtain. The table was entirely occupied by the 
 the great work of Martin, the electric machine, which 
 ^yas covered carefully with the remains of his table-
 
 TOM BfcOWN's SCHOOL DAYS. 230 
 
 cloth. The jackdaw cage occupied one wall, and the 
 other was adorned by a small hatchet, a pair of climb- 
 ing irons, and his tin candle-box, in which he was 
 for the time being endeavoring to raise a hopeful 
 young family of field-mice. As nothing should be let 
 to lie useless, it was well that the candle-box was thus 
 occupied, for candles Martin never had. A pound 
 was issued to him weekly, as to the other boys but as 
 candles were available capital, and easily exchange- 
 able for birds'-eggs or young birds, Martin's pound in- 
 variably found its way in a few hours to Hewlett's the 
 bird-fancier's, in the Bilton Road, who would give a 
 hawk's or nightingale's egg or young linnet in ex- 
 change. Martin's ingenuity was therefore forever 
 on the rack to supply himself with a light ; just now 
 he had hit upon a grand invention, and the den was 
 lighted by a flaring cotton-wick issuing from a ginger- 
 beer bottle full of some doleful composition. When 
 light altogether failed him, Martin would loaf about 
 by the fires in the passages or hall, after the manner 
 of Diggs, and try to do his verses or learn his lines by 
 the fire-light. 
 
 " Well, old boy, you havn't got any sweeter in the 
 den this half. How that stuff in the bottle stinks. 
 Never mind, I ain't going to stop, but you cme up 
 after prayers to our study ; you know young Arthur; 
 we've got Gray's study. We'll have agood supper and 
 talk about birds'-nesting." 
 
 Martin was evidently highly pleased at the invita- 
 tion, and promised to be up without fail. 
 
 As soon as prayers were over, and the sixth and 
 fifth-form boys had withdrawn to the aristocratic se- 
 clusion of their own room, and the rest, or democracy 
 bad set down to their supper in the hall, Tom and Ar-
 
 240 tott BROWN'S SCHOOL t>AYS. 
 
 thur, having secured their allowances of bread and 
 cheese, started on their feet to catch the eye of the 
 praepostor of the week, who remained in charge during 
 supper, walking up and down the hall. He happened 
 to be an easy-going fellow, so they got a pleasant nod 
 to their " Please may I go out ? " and away they 
 scrambled to prepare for Martin a sumptuous banquet. 
 This Tom had insisted on, for he was in great delight 
 on the occasion; the reason of which delight must 
 be expounded. The fact was, this was the first at- 
 tempt at a friendship of his own which Arthur had 
 made, and Tom hailed it as a grand step. The ease 
 with which he himself became hail-fellow-well-met 
 with anybody, and blundered into and out of twenty 
 friendships a half-year, made him sometimes sorry and 
 sometimes angry at Arthur's reserve and loneliness. 
 True, Arthur was always pleasant, and even jolly, 
 with any boys who came with Tom to their study ; 
 but Tom felt that it was only through him, as it were, 
 that his chum associated with others, and that but for 
 him Arthur would have been dwelling in a wilder- 
 ness. This increased his consciousness of respon- 
 sibility; and though he hadn't reasoned it out and 
 made it clear to himself, yet somehow he knew that 
 this responsibility, this trust which he had taken on 
 him without thinking about it, head-over-heels in fact, 
 was the center and turning-point of his school life, 
 that which was to make him or mar him; his ap- 
 pointed work and trial for the time being. And Tom 
 was becoming a new boy, though with frequent 
 tumbles in the dirt and perpetual hard battle with 
 himself, and was daily growing in man fulness and 
 thoughtfulness, as every high-couraged and well-prin- 
 cipled boy must, when he finds himself for the first
 
 tOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. S-li 
 
 time consciously at grips with self and the devil. 
 Already he could turn almost without a sigh, from 
 the school-gates, from which had just scampered off 
 East and three or four others of his own particular set, 
 bound for some jolly lark not quite according to law, 
 and involving probably a row with louts, keepers, or 
 farm-laborers, the skipping dinner or calling-over, 
 some of Phoebe Jennings' beer, and a very possible 
 flogging at the end of all as a relish. He had quite 
 got over the stage in which he would grumble to him- 
 self, " Well, hang it, it's very hard of the doctor to 
 have saddled me with Arthur. Why couldn't he 
 have chummed him with Fogey, or Thomkin, or any of 
 the fellows who never do anything but walk round the 
 close, and finish their copies the first day they're 
 set?" But although all this was past, he often 
 longed, and felt that he was right in longing, for more 
 time for the legitimate pastimes of cricket, fives, 
 bathing, and fishing within bounds, and which Arthur 
 could not yet be his companion ; and he felt that when 
 the young 'un (as he now generally called him) had 
 found a pursuit and some other friend for himself, he 
 should be able to give more time to the education of 
 his own body with a clear conscience. 
 
 And now what he so wished for had come to pass, 
 he almost hailed it as a special providence (as indeed it 
 was, but not for the reasons he gave for it what 
 providences are ?) that Arthur should have singled out 
 Martin of all fellows for a friend. " The old Madman 
 is the very fellow," thought he; "he will take him 
 scrambling over half the country after birds' eggs and 
 flowers, make him run and swim and climb like an 
 Indian, and not teach him a word of anything bad, or 
 keep him from his lessons. What luck ! " And so,
 
 242 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 with more than his usual heartiness, he dived into his 
 cupboard, and hauled out an old knuckle-bone of ham, 
 and two or three bottles of beer, together with the 
 solemn pewter only used on state occasions ; while 
 Arthur, equally elated at the easy accomplishment of 
 his first act of volition in the joint establishment, pro- 
 duced from his side a bottle of pickles and a pot of 
 jam, and cleared the table. In a minute or two the 
 noise of the boys coming up from supper was heard 
 and Martini knocked and was admitted, bearing his 
 bread and cheese, and the three fell to with hearty 
 good-will upon the viands, talking faster than they ate, 
 for all shyness disappeared in a moment before Tom's 
 bottled beer and hospitable ways. " Here's Arthur, 
 a regular young town mouse, with a natural taste for 
 the woods, Martin, longing to break his neck climbing 
 trees, and with a passion for young snakes." 
 
 " Well, I say," sputtered out Martin, eagerly, " will 
 you come to-morrow, both of you, to Caldecott's Spin- 
 ney, then, for I know of a kestrel's nest, up a fir-tree 
 I can't get at it without help ; and, Brown, you can. 
 climb against any one." 
 
 " Oh yes, do let us go," said Arthur ; " I never saw 
 a hawk's nest, nor a hawk's egg. 
 
 " You just come down to my study then, and I'll 
 show you five sorts," said Martin. 
 
 "Ay, the old Madman has got the best collection in 
 the house, out-and-out," said Tom ; and then Martin, 
 warming with unaccustomed good cheer and the chance 
 of a convert, launched out into a proposed birds'-nest- 
 ing campaign, betraying all manner of important 
 secrets; a golden-crested wren's nest near Butlin's 
 Mound, a moor-hen that was sitting on nine eggs in a 
 pond down the Barby Road, and a kingfisher's nest in,
 
 TOM BKOWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 243 
 
 a corner of the old canal above Brownsover Mill. He 
 had heard, he said, that no one had ever got a king- 
 fisher's nest out perfect, and that the British Museum, 
 or the government, or somebody, had offered 100 to 
 any one who could bring them a nest and eggs not 
 damaged. In the middle of which astounding an- 
 nouncement, to which the others were listening with 
 open ears, already considering the application of the 
 100, a knock came at the door, and East's voice was 
 heard craving admittance. 
 
 " There's Harry," said Tom ; " we'll let him in I'll 
 keep him steady, Martin. I thought the old boy would 
 smell out the supper." 
 
 The fact was that Tom's heart had already smitten 
 him for not asking his " fidus Achates " to the feast, 
 although only an extempore affair ; and though pru- 
 dence and the desire to get Martin and Arthur together 
 alone at first had overcome his scruples, he was now 
 heartily glad to open the door, broach another bottle 
 of beer, and hand over the old ham-knuckle to the 
 searching of his old friend's pocket-knife. 
 
 "Ah, you greedy vagabonds," said East, with his 
 mouth full; "I knew there was something going on 
 when I saw you cut off out of hall so quick with your 
 suppers. What a stunning tap, Tom ! you are a wunner 
 for bottling the swipes." 
 
 " I've had practice enough for the sixth in my time, 
 and it's hard if I haven't picked up a wrinkle or two 
 for my own benefit." 
 
 " "Well, old Madman, how goes the birds'-nesting cam- 
 paign ? How's Howlett ? I expect the young rooks'll 
 be out in another fortnight, and then my turn comes." 
 
 " There'll be no young rooks fit for pies for a month 
 yet; shows how much you know about it," rejoined
 
 244 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 Martin, who, though very good friends with East, re- 
 garded him with considerable suspicion for his propen- 
 sity to practical jokes. 
 
 " Scud knows nothing and cares for nothing but 
 grub and mischief," said Tom ; " but young rook pie, 
 specially when you've had to climb for them, is very 
 pretty eating. However, I say, Scud, we're all going 
 after a hawk's nest to morrow, in Caldecott's Spinney ; 
 and if you'll come and behave yourself, we'll have a 
 stunning climb." 
 
 " And a bath in Aganippe. Hooray ! I'm your 
 man ! " 
 
 "No, no; no bathing in Aganippe; that's where our 
 betters go." 
 
 "Well, well, nevermind. I'm for the hawk's nest 
 and anything that turns up." 
 
 And the bottled-beer being finished, and his hunger 
 appeased, East departed to his study, " that sneak 
 Jones," as he informed them, who had just got into the 
 sixth and occupied the next study, having instituted a 
 nightly visitation upon East and his chum, to their no 
 small discomfort. 
 
 When he was gone, Martin rose to follow, but Tom 
 stopped him. " No one goes near New How," said he, 
 " so you may just as well stop here and do your V3rses, 
 and then we'll have some more talk. We'll be no 
 end quiet ; besides, no praepostor comes here now we 
 haven't been visited once this half." 
 
 So the table was cleared, the cloth rertored, and the 
 three fell to work with Gradus and dictionary upon the 
 morning's vulgus. 
 
 They were three very fair examples of the way in 
 which such tasks were done at Hugby, in the consul- 
 ship of PJancus. And cjoubtiess the method is little
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 245 
 
 changed, for there is nothing new under the sun, espec- 
 ially at schools. 
 
 Now be it known unto all you boys who are at 
 schools which do not rejoice in the time-honored insti- 
 tution of the Yulgus (commonly supposed to have been 
 established by William of Wykeham at Winchester, and 
 imported to Rugby by Arnold, more for the sake of the 
 lines which were learned by heart with it, than for its 
 own intrinsic value, as I've always understood) that it 
 is a short exercise, in Greek or Latin verse, on a given 
 subject, the minimum number of lines being fixed for 
 each form. The master of the form gave out at fourth 
 lesson on the previous day the subject for next morn- 
 ing's vulgus, and at first lesson each boy had to bring 
 his vulgus ready to be looked over; and with the vul- 
 gus, a certain number of lines from one of the Latin or 
 Greek poets then being construed in the form had to 
 be got by heart. The master at first lesson called up 
 each boy in the form in order, and put him on in the 
 lines. If he couldn't say them, or seem to say them, 
 by reading them off the master's or some other boy's 
 book who stood near, he was sent back, and went below 
 all the boys who did so say or seem to say them ; but 
 in either case his vulgus was looked over by the master, 
 who gave and entered in his book, to the credit or dis- 
 credit of the boy, so many marks as the composition 
 merited. At Rugby vulgus and lines were the first 
 lesson every other day in the week, or Tuesdays, Thurs- 
 days and Saturdays ; and as there were thirty-eight 
 weeks in the school year, it is obvious to the meanest 
 capacity that the master of each form had to set one 
 hundred and fourteen subjects every year, two hundred 
 and twenty-eight every two years, and so on. Now to 
 persons of moderate invention this was a considerable
 
 246 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 task, and human nature being prone to repeat itself, it 
 will not be wondered that the masters gave the same 
 subjects sometimes over again after a certain lapse of 
 time. To meet and rebuke this bad habit of the mas- 
 ters, the school-boy mind, with its accustomed ingenuity 
 had invented an elaborate system of tradition. Almost 
 every boy kept his own vulgus written out in a book, 
 and these books were duly handed down from boy to 
 boy, till (if the tradition has gone on till now) I suppose 
 the popular boys, in whose hands bequeathed vulgus- 
 books have accumulated, are prepared with three or 
 four vulguses on any subject in heaven or earth, or in 
 " more worlds than one," which an unfortunate master 
 can pitch upon. At any rate, such lucky fellows had 
 generally one for themselves and one for a friend in my 
 time. The only objection to the traditionary method 
 of doing your vulguses was, the risk that the successions 
 might have become confused, and so that you and an- 
 other follower of traditions should show up the same 
 identical vulgus some fine morning; in which case, 
 when it happened, considerable grief was the result 
 but when did such risk hinder boys or men from short 
 cuts and pleasant paths ? 
 
 Now in the study that night, Tom was the upholder 
 of the traditionary method of vulgus doing. He care- 
 fully produced two large vulgus-books, and began div- 
 ing into them, and picking out a line here, and an end- 
 ing there (tags, as they were vulgarly called), till he had 
 gotten all that he thought he could make fit. He then 
 proceeded to patch his tags together with the help of 
 his Gradus, producing an incongruous and feeble result 
 of eight elegiac lines, the minimum quantity of his 
 form, and finishing up with two highly moral lines ex- 
 tra, making ten in all, which he cribbed entire from
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 247 
 
 one of his books, beginning " genus humanum" and 
 which he himself must have used a dozen times before, 
 whenever an unfortunate or wicked hero, of whatever 
 nation or language under the sun, was the subject. 
 Indeed, he began to have great doubts whether the 
 master wouldn't remember them, and so only threw 
 them in as extra lines, because in any case they would 
 call off attention from the other tags, and if detected, 
 being extra lines, he wouldn't be sent back to do two 
 more in their place, while if they passed muster again 
 he would get marks for them. 
 
 The second method pursued by Martin may be called 
 the dogged, or prosaic method. He, no more than 
 Tom, took any pleasure in the task, but having no old 
 vulgus-books of his own, or any one's else, could not 
 follow the traditionary method, for which too, as Tom 
 remarked, he hadn't the genius. Martin then pro- 
 ceeded to write down eight lines in English, of the 
 most matter-of-fact kind, the first that came into his 
 head, and to convert these, line by line, by main force 
 of Gradus and dictionary, into Latin that would scan. 
 This was all he cared for, to produce eight lines with 
 no false quantities or concords : whether the words 
 were apt, or what the sense was, mattered nothing, 
 and, as the article was all new, not a line beyond the 
 minimum did the followers of the dogged method 
 ever produce. 
 
 The third, or artistic method, was Arthur's. He 
 considered first what point in the character or event 
 which was the subject could most neatly be brought 
 out within the limits of a vulgus, trying always to get 
 his idea into the eight lines, but not binding himself to 
 ten or even twelve lines if he couldn't do this. He 
 then set to work, as much as possible without Gradus
 
 248 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 or other help, to clothe his idea in appropriate Latin 
 or Greek, and would not be satisfied till he had pol- 
 ished it well up with the aptest and most poetic words 
 and phrases he could get at. 
 
 A fourth method indeed was used in the school, but 
 of too simple a kind to require a comment. It may be 
 called the vicarious method, obtained among big boys 
 of lazy or bullying habits, and consisted simply in 
 making clever boys whom they could thrash do their 
 whole vulgus for them, and construe it to them after- 
 ward ; which latter is a method not to be encouraged, 
 and which I strongly advise you all not to practise. 
 Of the others, you will find the traditionary most 
 troublesome, unless you can steal your vulguses whole 
 (experto crede), and that the artistic method pays the 
 best both in marks and other ways. 
 
 The vulguses being finished by nine o'clock, and 
 Martin having rejoiced above measure in the abund- 
 ance of light, and of Gradus and dictionary, and 
 other conveniences almost unknown to him for getting 
 through the work, and having been pressed by Arthur 
 to come and do his verses there whenever he liked, 
 the three boys went down to Martin's den, and 
 Arthur was initiated into the lore of bird's-eggs, to his 
 great delight. The exquisite coloring and forms as- 
 tonished and charmed him who had scarcely ever 
 seen any but a hen's egg or an ostrich's and by the 
 time he was lugged away to bed he had learned the 
 names of at least twenty sorts, and dreamed of the 
 glorious perils of tree-climbing and that he had found a 
 roc's egg in the island as big as Sind bad's and clouded 
 like a tit-lark's, in blowing which Martin and he had 
 nearly been drowned in the yolk,
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 249 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE BIRD-FANCIEES. 
 
 " I have found out a gift for my fair, 
 
 I have found where the wood-pigeons breed: 
 But let me the plunder forbear, 
 
 She would say 'twas a barbarous deed." 
 
 ROWE. 
 
 "And now, my lad, take them five shilling, 
 
 And on my advice in future think; 
 So Billy pouched them all so willing, 
 And got that night disguised in drink." 
 
 MS. BALLAD. 
 
 THE next morning at first lesson Tom was turned 
 back in his lines, and so had to wait till the second 
 round, while Martin and Arthur said theirs all right 
 and got out of school at once. When Tom got out 
 and ran down to breakfast at Harro well's they were 
 missing, and Stumps informed him that they had 
 swallowed down their breakfasts and gone off together, 
 where, he couldn't say. Tom hurried over his own 
 breakfast, and went first to Martin's study and then to 
 his own, but no signs of the missing boys were to be 
 found. He felt half angry and jealous of Martin 
 where could they be gone ? 
 
 He learned second lesson with East and the rest in 
 no very good temper, and then went out into the 
 quadrangle. About ten minutes before school, Martin 
 and Arthur arrived in the quadrangle breathless ; and,
 
 250 TOM BROWX'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 catching sight of him, Arthur rushed up all excite- 
 ment and with a bright glow on his face. 
 
 " Oh, Tom, look here," cried he, holding out three 
 moor-hen's eggs ; " we've been down the Barby road 
 to the pool Martin told us of last night, and just see 
 what we've got." 
 
 Tom wouldn't be pleased, and only looked out for 
 something to find fault with. 
 
 " Why, young un," said he, " what have you been 
 after? You don't mean to say you've been wading? " 
 
 The tone of reproach made poor little Arthur 
 shrink up in a moment and look piteous, and Tom 
 with a shrug of his shoulders, turned his anger on 
 Martin. 
 
 "Well, I didn't think, Madman, that you'd have 
 been such a muff as to let him be getting wet through 
 at this time of day. You might have done the wading 
 yourself." 
 
 " So I did, of course, only he would come in too, to 
 see the nest. We left six eggs in ; they'll be hatched 
 in a day or two." 
 
 " Hang the eggs ! " said Tom, " a fellow can' t turn 
 his back for a moment but all his work's undone. 
 He'll be laid up for a week for this precious lark I'll 
 be bound." 
 
 "Indeed, Tom, now," pleaded Arther, "my feet 
 ain't wet, for Martin made me take off my shoes and 
 stockings and trousers." 
 
 "But they are wet and dirty, too can't I see?" 
 answered Tom; " and 3'ou'll be called up and floored 
 when the master sees what a state you're in. You 
 haven't looked at second lesson, you know." Oh Tom, 
 you old humbug ! you to be upbraiding any one with 
 not learning their lessons ! If you hadn't been floored
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 251 
 
 yourself now at first lesson, do you mean to say you 
 wouldn't have been with them ? and you've taken away 
 all poor little Arthur's joy and pride in his first birds' 
 eggs ; and he goes and puts them down in the study, 
 and takes down his books with a sigh, thinking he has 
 done something horribly wrong, whereas he has 
 learned on in advance much more than will be done at 
 second lesson. 
 
 But the old Madman hasn't, and gets called up and 
 makes some frightful shots, losing about ten places, 
 and all but getting floored. This somewhat appeases 
 Tom's wrath, and by the end of the lesson he has re- 
 gained his temper. And afterward, in their study, he 
 begins to get right again, as he watches Arthur's in- 
 tense joy at seeing Martin blowing the eggs and glue- 
 ing them carefully on to bits of cardboard, and notes 
 the anxious, loving looks which the little fellow casts 
 sidelong at him. And then he thinks, " what an ill- 
 tempered beast I am ! Here's just- what I was wish- 
 ing for last night come about, and I'm spoiling it all," 
 and in another five minutes has swallowed the last 
 mouthful of his bile^ and is repaid by seeing his little 
 sensitive-plant expand again, and sun itself in his 
 smiles. 
 
 After dinner the Madman is busy with the prepara- 
 tions for their expedition, fitting new straps on to his 
 climbing irons, filling large pill-boxes with cotton wool, 
 and sharpening East's small ax. They carry all their 
 munitions into calling-over, and directly afterward 
 having dodged such praepostors as are on the look-out 
 for fags at cricket, the four set off at a smart trot down 
 the Lawford footpath straight for Caldecott's Spinney 
 and the hawk's nest. 
 
 Martin leads the way in high feather ; it is quite a
 
 252 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 new sensation to him, getting com pan ions, and he finds 
 it very pleasant, and means to show them all manner 
 of proofs of his science and skill. Brown and East may 
 be better at cricket and football and games, thinks he, 
 but out in the fields and woods see if I can't teach them 
 something. He has taken the leadership already, and 
 strides away in front with his climbing-irons strapped 
 under one arm, his pecking bag under the other, and 
 his pockets and hat full of pill-boxes, cotton wool, and 
 other etceteras. Each of the others carries a pecking- 
 bag, and East his hatchet. 
 
 When they had crossed three or four fields without 
 a check, Arthur began to lag, and Tom seeing this 
 shouted to Martin to pull up a bit : " We ain't out 
 hare-and-hounds what's the gocd of grinding on at 
 this rate ? " 
 
 " There's the Spinney," said Martin, pulling up on 
 the brow of a slope at the bottom of which lay Lawford 
 brook, and pointing to the top of the opposite slope ; 
 " the nest is in one of those high fir-trees at this end. 
 And down by the brook there, I know of a sedge-bird's 
 nest ; we'll go and look at it coming back." 
 
 " Oh, come on, don't let us stop," said Arthur, who 
 was getting excited at the sight of the wood ; so they 
 broke into a trot again, and were soon across the brook, 
 up the slope, and into the Spinney. Here they advanced 
 as noiselessly as possible, lest keepers or other enemies 
 should be about, and stopped at the foot of a tall fir, 
 at the top of which Martin pointed out with pride the 
 kestrel's nest, the object of their quest. 
 
 " Oh where ! which is it?" asks Arthur, gaping up 
 in the air, and having the most vague idea of what 
 it would be like. 
 
 " There, don't you see ? " said East, pointing to a
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 253 
 
 lump of misletoe in the next tree, which was a beech : 
 he saw that Martin and Tom were busy with the 
 climbing-irons, and couldn't resist the temptation of 
 hoaxing. Arthur stared and wondered more than 
 ever. 
 
 "Well, how curious! it doesn't look a bit like what 
 I expected," said he. 
 
 " Very odd birds, kestrels," said East, looking wag- 
 gishly at his victim, who was still star-gazing. 
 
 "But I thought it was in a fir-tree?" objected 
 Arthur. 
 
 " Ah, don't you know ? that's a new sort of fir, 
 which old Caldecott brought from the Himalayas." 
 
 "Keally!" said Arthur; "I'm glad I know that 
 how unlike our firs they are ! They do very well too 
 here, don't they ? the Spinney's full of them." 
 
 " What's that humbug he's telling you ? " cried Tom, 
 looking up, having caught the word Himalayas, and 
 suspecting what East was after. 
 
 " Only about this fir," said Arthur, putting his hand 
 on the stem of the beech. 
 
 " Fir ! " shouted Tom, " why, you don't mean to 
 say, young 'un, you don't know a beech when you see 
 one?" 
 
 Poor little Arthur looked terribly ashamed, and 
 East exploded in laughter which made the wood 
 ring. 
 
 " I've hardly ever seen any trees." faltered Arthur. 
 
 " What a shame to hoax him, Scud ! " cried Martin. 
 " Never, mind, Arthur, you shall know more about 
 trees than he does in a week or two." 
 
 " And isn't that the kestrel's nest, then ? " asked 
 Arthur. 
 
 "That! why, that's a piece of mistletoe, There's 
 the nest, that lump of sticks up this fir,"
 
 254 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 " Don't believe him, Arthur," stuck in the incor- 
 rigible East; "I just saw an old magpie go out 
 of it." 
 
 Martin did not deign to reply to this sally, except by 
 a grunt, as he buckled the last buckle of his climbing- 
 irons ; and Arthur looked reproachfully at East with- 
 out speaking. 
 
 But now came the tug of war. It was a very diffi- 
 cult tree to climb until the branches were reached, the 
 first of which was some fourteen feet up, for the trunk 
 was too large at the bottom to be swarmed ; in fact, 
 neither of the boys could reach more than half round 
 it with their arms. Martin and Tom, both of whom 
 had irons on, tried it without success at first ; the fir 
 bark broke away where they stuck the irons in as 
 soon as they leaned any weight on their feet, and the 
 grip of their arms wasn't enough to keep them up ; so, 
 after getting up three or four feet, down they came 
 slithering to the ground, barking their arms and faces. 
 They were furious, and East sat by laughing 
 and shouting at each failure, " Two to one on the old 
 magpie ! " 
 
 "We must try a pyramid," said Tom at last. 
 " Now, Scud, you lazy rascal, stick yourself against 
 the tree ! " 
 
 " I dare say ! and have you standing on my shoul- 
 ders with the irons on : what do you think my skin's 
 made of ? " However, up he got, and leaned against 
 the tree, putting his head down and clasping it with 
 his arms as far as he could. " Now then, Madman," 
 said Tom, " you next." 
 
 " No, I'm lighter than you ; you go next." So Tom 
 got on East's shoulders, and grasped the tree above, 
 and then Martin scrambled up on Tom's shoulders,
 
 CLIMBING THE FIR-TREE AFTER THE KESTREL'S NEST.
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DATS. 255 
 
 amid the letterings and groanings of the pyramid, 
 and, with a spring which sent his supporters howling 
 to the ground, clasped the stem some ten feet up, and 
 remained clinging. For a moment or two they 
 thought he couldn't get up, but then, holding on with 
 arms and teeth, he worked first one iron, then the 
 other, firmly into the bark, got another grip with his 
 arms, and in another minute had hold of the lowest 
 branch. 
 
 "All up with the old magpie now," said East; and, 
 after a minute's rest, up went Martin, hand over 
 hand, watched by Arthur with fearful eagerness. 
 
 " Isn't it very dangerous ? " said he. 
 
 "Not a bit," answered Tom : "you can't hurt if you 
 only get good hand-hold. Try every branch with a 
 good pull before you trust it, and then up you go." 
 
 Martin was now among the small branches close to 
 the nest, and away dashed the old bird, and soared up 
 above the trees, watching the intruder. 
 
 " All right four eggs ! " shouted he. 
 
 "Take 'em all!" shouted East; that'll be one 
 apiece." 
 
 " No, no ! leave one, and then she won't care," said 
 Tom. 
 
 We boys had an idea that birds couldn't count, and 
 were quite content as long as you left one egg. I hope 
 it is so. 
 
 Martin carefully put one egg into each of his boxes 
 and the third into his mouth, the only other place of 
 safety, and came down like a lamplighter. All went 
 well till he was within ten feet of the ground, when, as 
 the trunk enlarged, his hold got less and less firm, and 
 at last down he came with a run, tumbling on to his 
 back on the turf, spluttering and spitting out the
 
 256 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL 
 
 remains of the great egg, which had broken by the jar 
 of his fall. 
 
 " Ugh, ugh something to drink ugh ! it was 
 addled," spluttered he, while the wood rang again 
 with the merry laughter of East and Tom. 
 
 Then they examined the prizes, gathered up their 
 things, and went off to the brook, where Martin swal- 
 lowed huge draughts of water to get rid of the taste ; 
 and they visited the sedge-bird's nest, and from thence 
 struck across the country in high glee, beating the 
 hedges and brakes as they went along ; and Arthur at 
 last, to his intense delight, was allowed to climb a 
 small hedgerow oak for a magpie's nest with Tom, 
 who kept all round him like a mother, and showed 
 him where to hold and how to throw his weight ; and 
 though he was in a great fright, didn't show it ; and 
 was applauded by all for his lissomness. 
 
 They crossed a road soon afterward, and there close 
 to them lay a heap of charming pebbles. 
 
 "Look here," shouted East, "here's luck! I've been 
 longing for some good honest pecking this half hour. 
 Let's fill the bags, and have no more of this foozling 
 bird's-nesting." 
 
 No one objected, so each boy filled the fustian bag 
 he carried full of stones : they crossed into the next 
 field, Tom and East taking one side of the hedges, and 
 the other two the other side. Noise enough they made 
 certainly, but it was too early in the season for the 
 young birds, and the old birds were too strong on the 
 wing for our young marksmen, and flew out of shot 
 after the first discharge. But it was great fun, rushing 
 along the hedgerows, and discharging stone after stono 
 at blackbirds and chaffinches, though no result in the 
 shape of slaughtered birds was obtained ; and Arthur
 
 BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 25? 
 
 soon entered into it, and rushed to head back the birds, 
 and shouted, and threw, and tumbled into ditches and 
 over and through hedges, as wild as the Madman 
 himself. 
 
 Presently the party, in full cry after an old black- 
 bird (who was evidently used to the thing and enjoyed 
 the fun, for he would wait till they came close to him 
 and then fly on for forty yards or so, and, with an im- 
 pudent flicker of his tail, dart into the depths of the 
 quickset), came beating down a high double hedge, 
 two on each side. 
 
 "There he is again," "Head him," "Let drive," 
 "I had him there," "Take care where you're throwing, 
 Madman;" the shouts might have been heard a quar- 
 ter-of-a-mile off. They were heard some two hundred 
 yards off by a farmer and two of his shepherds, who 
 were doctoring sheep in a fold in the next field. 
 
 Now, the farmer in question rented a house and 
 yard situate at the end of the field in which the young 
 bird-fanciers had arrived, which house and yard he 
 didn't occupy or keep any one else in. Nevertheless, 
 like a brainless and unreasoning Briton, he persisted 
 in maintaining on the premises a large stock of cocks, 
 hens, and other poultry. Of course, all sorts of depre- 
 dators visited the place from time to time; foxes and 
 gypsies wrought havoc in the night ; while in the day- 
 time, I regret to have to confess that visits from the 
 Rugby boys, and consequent disappearances of ancient 
 and respectable fowls, were not unfrequent. Tom and 
 East had during the period of their outlawry visited 
 the barn in question for felonious purposes, and on one 
 occasion had conquered and slain a duck there, and 
 borne away the carcass triumphantly, hidden in their 
 handkerchiefs. However, they were sickened of the
 
 258 TOM BROWN'S scfiooL 
 
 practice by the trouble and anxiety which the wretched 
 duck's body caused them. They carried it to Sally 
 Harrowell's in hopes of a good supper ; but she, after 
 examining it, made a long face, and refused to dress or 
 have anything to do with it. Then they took it into 
 their study, and began plucking it themselves ; but 
 what to do with the feathers where to hide them ? 
 
 " Good gracious, Tom, what a lot of feathers a duck 
 has ! " groaned East, holding a bagful in his hand, and 
 looking disconsolately at the carcass, not yet half 
 plucked. 
 
 " And I do think he's getting high, too, already," 
 said Tom, smelling at him cautiously, "so we must 
 finish him up soon." 
 
 "Yes, all very well; but how are we to cook him ? 
 I'm sure I ain't going to try it on in the hall or 
 passages ; we can't afford to be roasting ducks about, 
 our character's too bad." 
 
 " I wish we were rid of the brute," said Tom, throw- 
 ing him on the table in disgust. And after a day or 
 two more it became clear that got rid of he must be ; 
 so they packed him and sealed him up in brown paper, 
 and put him in the cupboard of an unoccupied study, 
 where he was found in the holidays by the matron, a 
 grewsome body. 
 
 They had never been duck-hunting there since, but 
 others had, and the bold yeoman was very sore on the 
 subject, and bent on making an example of the first 
 boys he could catch. So he and his shepherds crouched 
 behind the hurdles, and watched the party, who w r ere 
 approaching all unconscious. 
 
 Why should that old guinea-fowl be lying out in the 
 hedge just at this particular moment of all the year ? 
 Who can say ? Guinea-fowls always are so are all
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 259 
 
 other things, animals, and persons, requisite for getting 
 one into scrapes, always ready when any mischief can. 
 come of them. At any rate, just under East's nose 
 popped out the old guinea-hen, scuttling along and 
 shrieking " Come back, come back," at the top of her 
 voice. Either of the other three might perhaps have 
 withstood the temptation, but East first lets drive the 
 stone he has in his hand at her, and then rushes to 
 turn her into the hedge again. He succeeds, and then 
 they are all at it for dear life, up and down the hedge 
 in full cry, the "Come back, come back," getting shril- 
 ler and fainter every minute. 
 
 Meantime the farmer and his men steal over the 
 hurdles and creep down the hedge toward the scene 
 of action. They are almost within a stone's throw of 
 Martin, who is pressing the unlucky chase hard, when 
 Tom catches sight of them, and sings out, " Louts, 
 'ware louts, your side! Madman, look ahead!" and 
 then catching hold of Arthur, hurries him away across 
 the field toward Rugby as hard as they can tear. 
 Had he been by himself, he would have stayed to see it 
 out with the others, but now his heart sinks and all his 
 pluck goes. The idea of being led up to the doctor 
 with Arthur for bagging fowls, quite unmans and takes 
 half the run out of him. 
 
 However, no boys are more able to take care of 
 themselves than East and Martin ; they dodge the 
 pursuers, slip through a gap, and come pelting after 
 Tom and Arthur, whom they catch up in no time; the 
 farmer and his men are making good running about a 
 field behind. Tom wishes to himself that they had 
 made off in any other direction, but now they are all in 
 for it together, and must see it out. " You won't leave 
 the young 'un, will you?" says he, as tbey haul poqp
 
 260 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 little Arthur, already losing wind from the fright, 
 through the next hedge. "Not we," is the answer 
 from both. The next hedge is a stiff one ; the pursuers 
 gain horribly on them, and they only just pull Arthur 
 through, with two great rents in his trousers, as the 
 foremost shepherd comes up on the other side. As 
 they start into the next field, they are aware of two 
 figures walking down the footpath in the middle of it, 
 and recognize Holmes and Diggs taking a constitu- 
 tional. Those good-natured fellows immediately shout 
 "On." "Let's go to them and surrender," pants 
 Tom. Agreed. And in another minute the four boys, 
 to the great astonishment of those worthies, rush 
 breathless up to Holmes and Diggs, who pull up to see 
 what is the matter ; and then the whole is explained 
 by the appearance of the farmer and his men, who 
 unite their forces and bear down on the knot of boys. 
 
 There is no time to explain, and Tom's heart beats 
 frightfully quick, as he ponders, " Will they stand by 
 us?" 
 
 The farmer makes a rush at East and collars him ; 
 and that young gentleman, with unusual discretion, in- 
 stead of kicking his shins, looks appealingly at Holmes, 
 and stands still. 
 
 "Hullo there, not so fast," says Holmes, who is 
 bound to stand up for them till they are proved in the 
 wrong. "Now what's all this about ? " 
 
 "I've got the young varmint at last, have I," pants 
 the farmer; " why they've been a skulking about my 
 yard and stealing my fowls, that's where 'tis ; and if I 
 doan't have they flogged for it, every one on 'em, my 
 name ain't Thompson." 
 
 Holmes looks grave, and Diggs' face falls. They are 
 quite ready to fight, no boys in the school more so ;
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 2Ct 
 
 but they are praepostors, and understand their office, 
 and can't uphold unrighteous causes. 
 
 " I haven't been near his old barn this half," cries 
 East. " Nor I," " Nor I," chime in Tom and Martin. 
 
 " Now, Willum, didn't you see 'm there last week?" 
 
 "Ees, I seen 'em sure enough," says Willum, grasp- 
 ing a prong he carried, and preparing for action. 
 
 The boys deny stoutly, and Willum is driven to 
 admit that, " if it worn't they, 'twas chaps as like 'em 
 as two peas'n ; " and " leastways he'll swear he see'd 
 them two in the yard last Martinmas," indicating East 
 and Tom. 
 
 Holmes had time to meditate. " Now, sir," says he 
 to Willum, "you see you can't remember what you 
 have seen, and I believe the boys." 
 
 "I doan't care," blusters the farmer; "they was 
 arter my fowls to-day, that's enough for I. Willum, 
 you catch hold o' t'other chap. They've been a sneak- 
 ing about this two hours, I tells 'ee," shouted he, as 
 Holmes stands between Martin and Willum, " and 
 have druv a matter of a dozen young pullets pretty 
 nigh to death." 
 
 " Oh, there's a whacker ! " cried East ; " we haven't 
 been within a hundred yards of his barn ; we haven't 
 been up here above ten minutes, and we've seen 
 nothing but a tough old guinea-hen, who ran like a 
 greyhound." 
 
 " Indeed, that's all true, Holmes, upon my honor," 
 added Tom ; " we weren't after his fowls ; the guinea- 
 hen ran out of the hedge under our feet, and we've 
 seen nothing else." 
 
 " Drat their talk. Thee catch hold o' t'other, 
 Willum, and come along wi' 'un." 
 
 " Farmer Thompson," said Holmes, warning off
 
 xoii BROWN'S SCHOOL DATS. 
 
 Willum and the prong with his stick, while Diggs 
 faced the other shepherd, cracking his fingers like 
 pistol shots, " now listen to reason the boys haven't 
 been after your fowls, that's plain." 
 
 " Tells 'ee I see'd 'em. Who be you, I should like 
 to know ? " 
 
 "Never you mind, farmer," answers Holmes. 
 " And now I'll just tell you what it is you ought to 
 be ashamed of yourself for leaving all that poultry 
 about, with no one to watch it, so near the school. 
 You deserve to have it all stolen. So if you choose to 
 come up to the doctor with them, I shall go with 
 you, and tell him what I think of it." 
 
 The farmer began to take Holmes for a master ; be- 
 sides he wanted to get back to his flock. Corporal 
 punishment was out of the question, the odds were too 
 great ; so he began to hint at paying for the damage. 
 Arthur jumped at this, offering to pay anything, and 
 the farmer immediately valued the guinea-hen, at half- 
 a-sovereign. 
 
 " Half-a-sovereign ! " cried East, now released from 
 the farmer's grip ; " well, that is a good one ! the hen 
 ain't hurt a bit, and she's seven years old, I know, 
 and as tough as a whipcord ; she couldn't lay another 
 egg to save her life." 
 
 It was at last settled that they should pay the farmer 
 two shillings, and his man one shilling, and so the 
 matter ended, to the unspeakable relief of Tom, who 
 hadn't been able to say a word, being sick at heart at 
 the idea of what the doctor would think of him : and 
 now the whole party of boys marched off down the 
 footpath toward Rugby. Holmes, who was one of the 
 best boys in the school, began to improve the occasion. 
 "Now, you youngsters," said he, as he marched along
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 263 
 
 in the middle of them, " mind this ; you're very well 
 out of this scrape. Don't you go near Thompson's 
 barn again ; do you hear ? " 
 
 Profuse promises from all, especially East. 
 
 "Mind, I don't ask questions," went on Mentor, 
 " but I rather think some of you have been there be- 
 fore this after his chickens. Now, knocking over 
 other people's chickens, and running off with them is 
 stealing. It's a nasty word, but that's the plain English 
 of it. If the chickens were dead aud lying in a shop, 
 you wouldn't take them, I know that, any more than 
 you would apples out of Griffith's basket ; but there's 
 no real difference between chickens running about 
 and apples on a tree, and the same articles in a shop. 
 I wish our morals were sounder in such matters. 
 There's nothing so mischievous as these school dis- 
 tinctions, which jumble up right and wrong, and 
 justify things in us for which poor boys would be sent 
 to prison." And good old Holmes delivered his soul 
 on the walk home of many wise sayings, and, as the 
 song says: 
 
 " Qee'd 'em a sight of good advice," 
 
 which same sermon sank into them all, more or less, 
 and very penitent they were for several hours. But 
 truth compels me to admit that East at any rate for- 
 got it all in a week, but remembered the insult which 
 had been put upon him by Farmer Thompson, and 
 with the Tadpole and other hair-brained youngsters, 
 committed a raid on the barn soon afterward in which 
 they were caught by the shepherds and severely 
 handled, besides having to pay eight shillings, all the 
 money they had in the world, to escape being taken up 
 to the doctor.
 
 S64 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 Martin became a constant inmate in the joint study 
 from this time, and Arthur took to him so kindly, that 
 Tom couldn't resist slight fits of jealousy, which, how- 
 ever, he managed to keep to himself. The kestrel's 
 eggs had not been broken, strange to say, and formed 
 the nucleus of Arthur's collection, at which Martin 
 worked heart and soul ; and introduced Arthur to 
 Hewlett the bird fancier, and instructed him in the 
 rudiments of the art of stuffing. In token of his grati- 
 tude, Arthur allowed Martin to tattoo a small anchor 
 on one of his wrists, which decoration, however, he 
 carefully concealed from Tom. Before the end of the 
 half year he had trained into a bold climber and good 
 runner, and, as Martin had foretold, knew twice as 
 much about trees, birds, flowers, and many other 
 things, as our good-hearted and facetious young friend 
 Harry East.
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 265 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE FIGHT. 
 
 Surgebat Macnevisius 
 Et mox jactabat ultro, 
 Pugnabo tua gratia 
 Feroci hoc Mactwoltro. " 
 
 Etonian. 
 
 THERE is a certain sort of fellow we who are used 
 to studying boys all know him well enough of whom 
 you can predicate with almost positive certainty, after 
 he has been a month at school, that he is sure to have 
 a fight, and with almost equal certainty that he will 
 have but one. Tom Brown was one of these ; and as 
 it is our well-weighed intention to give a full, true, and 
 correct account of Tom's only single combat with a 
 school-fellow in the manner of our old friend BeWs 
 Life, let those young persons whose stomachs are not 
 strong, or who think a good set-to with the weapons 
 which God has given to us all, an uncivilized, unchris- 
 tian, or ungentlemanly affair, just skip this chapter at 
 once, for it won't be to their taste. 
 
 It was not at all usual in those days for two school- 
 house boys to have a fight. Of course there were ex- 
 ceptions, when some cross-grained, hard-headed fellow 
 came up who would never be happy unless he was 
 quarreling with his nearest neighbors, or when there 
 was some class-dispute between the fifth-form and the 
 fags for instance, which required blood-letting ; and a
 
 260 TOM BHOWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 champion was picked out on each side tacitly, who 
 settled the matter by a good, hearty mill. But for the 
 most part the constant use of those surest keepers of 
 the peace, the boxing-gloves, kept the school-house 
 boys from fighting one another. Two or three nights 
 in every week the gloves were brought out, either in 
 the hall or fifth-form room ; and every boy who was 
 ever likely to fight at all, knew all his neighbors' 
 prowess perfectly well, and could tell to a nicety what 
 chance he would have in a stand-up fight with any 
 other boy in the house. But of course no such ex- 
 perience could be gotten as regarded boys in other 
 houses; and as most of the other houses were more 
 or less jealous of the school-house, collisions were 
 frequent. 
 
 After all, what would life be without fighting, I 
 should like to know ? From the cradle to the grave, 
 fighting, rightly understood, is the business, the real, 
 highest, honestest business of every son of man. Every 
 one who is worth his salt has his enemies, who must be 
 beaten, be they evil thoughts and habits in himself, or 
 spiritual wickedness in high places, or Russians, or 
 border-ruffians, or Bill, Tom, or Harry, who will not 
 let him live his life in quiet till he has thrashed them. 
 
 It is no good for Quakers, or any other body of men 
 to uplift their voices against fighting. Human nature 
 is too strong for them, and they don't follow their own 
 precepts. Every soul of them is doing his own piece 
 of fighting, somehow and somewhere. The world 
 might be a better world without fighting, for anything 
 I know, but it wouldn't be our world ; and therefore I 
 am dead against crying peace when there is no peace, 
 and isn't meant to be. I am as sorry as any man to 
 see folk fighting the wrong people and the wrong
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 26? 
 
 things, but I'd a deal sooner see them doing that, than 
 that they should have no fight in them. So having re- 
 corded, and being about to record, my hero's fights of 
 all sorts, with all sorts of enemies, I shall now proceed 
 to give an account of his passage-at-arms with the only 
 one of his school-fellows whom he ever had to encoun- 
 ter in this manner. 
 
 It was drawing toward the close of Arthur's first 
 half-year, and the May evenings were lengthening out. 
 Locking-up was not till eight o'clock, and everybody 
 was beginning to talk about what he would do in the 
 holidays. The shell, in which form all our dramatis 
 personce now are, were reading among other things 
 the last book of " Homer's Iliad," and had worked 
 through it as far as the speeches of the women over 
 Hector's body. It is a whole school-day, and four or 
 five of the school-house boys (among whom are Arthur, 
 Tom and East) are preparing third lesson together. 
 They have finished the regulation forty lines, and are 
 for the most part getting very tired, notwithstanding 
 the exquisite pathos of Helen's lamentation. And now 
 several long four-syllabled words come together, and 
 the boy with the dictionary strikes work. 
 
 " I am not going to look out any more words," says 
 he ; " we've done the quantity. Ten to one we shan't 
 get so far. Let's go out into the close." 
 
 "Come along, boys," cries East, always ready to 
 leave the grind, as he called it ; " our old coach is laid 
 up, you know, and we shall have one of the new mas- 
 ters, who's sure to go slow and let us down easy." 
 
 So an adjournment to the close was carried nem. 
 con., little Arthur not daring to uplift his voice ; but, 
 being deeply interested in what they were reading, 
 stayed quietly behind, and learned on for his own 
 pleasure.
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 As East had said, the regular master of the form 
 was unwell, and they were to be heard by one of the 
 new masters, quite a young man, who had only just 
 left the university. Certainly it would be hard lines, 
 if, by dawdling as much as possible in coming in and 
 taking their places, entering into long-winded explana- 
 tions of what was the usual course of the regular master 
 of the form, and others of the stock contrivances of 
 boys for wasting time in school, they could not spin 
 out the lesson so that he should not work them through 
 more than the forty lines; as to which quantity there 
 was a perpetual fight going on between the master and 
 his form, the latter insisting, and enforcing by passive 
 resistance, that it was the prescribed quantity of Homer 
 for a shell lesson, the former that there was no fixed 
 quantity, but that they must always be ready to go on 
 to fifty or sixty lines if there were time within the 
 hour. However, notwithstanding all their efforts, the 
 new master got on horribly quick ; he seemed to have 
 the bad taste to be really interested in the lesson, and 
 to be trying to work them up into something like ap- 
 preciation of it, giving them good spirited English 
 words, instead of the wretched bald stuff into which 
 they rendered poor old Homer ; and construing over 
 each piece himself to them, after each boy, to show 
 them how it should be done. 
 
 Now the clock strikes the three quarters ; there is 
 only a quarter of an hour more ; but the forty lines 
 are all but done. So the boys, one after another, who 
 are called up, stick more and more, and make balder 
 and ever more bald work of it. The poor young 
 master is pretty near beat by this time, and feels 
 ready to knock his head against the wall, or his 
 fingers against somebody else's head. So he gives up
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 269 
 
 altogether the lower and middle parts of the form, 
 and looks round in despair at the boys on the top bench 
 to see if there is one out of whom he can strike a 
 spark or two, and who will be too chivalrous to mur- 
 der the most beautiful utterances of the most beautiful 
 woman of the old world. I] is eye rests on Arthur, 
 and he calls him up to finish construing Helen's speech. 
 Whereupon all the other boys draw long breaths, and 
 begin to stare about and take it easy. They are all 
 safe ; Arthur is the head of the form, and sure to be 
 able to construe, and that will tide on safely till the 
 hour strikes. 
 
 Arthur proceeds to read out the passage in Greek 
 before construing it, as the custom is. Tom, who isn't 
 paying much attention, is suddenly caught by the falter 
 in his voice as he reads the two lines : 
 
 aA/ld tiv TOV y } iitEEtitii ftapaKpajtevo? HarepvKE?, 
 2fi z j dyavoqtpotivvy nal doiG dyavdlS iiteetifay. 
 
 He looks up at Arthur. " Why, bless us," thinks he, 
 " what can be the matter with the young 'un ? He's 
 never going to get floored. He's sure to have learned 
 to the end." Next moment he is reassured by the 
 spirited tone in which Arthur begins construing, and 
 betakes himself to drawing dogs' heads in his note- 
 book, while the master evidently enjoying the change, 
 turns his back on the middle bench and stands before 
 Arthur, beating a sort of time with his hand and foot 
 and saying " Yes, yes," " very well," as Arthur goes 
 on. 
 
 But as he nears the fatal two lines, Tom catches that 
 falter" and again looks up. He sees that there is some- 
 thing the matter Arthur can hardly get on at all. 
 What can it be ?
 
 270 TOM BROWH'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 Suddenly at this point Arthur breaks down alto- 
 gether, and fairly bursts out crying, and dashes the 
 cuff of his jacket across his eyes, blushing up to the 
 roots of his hair, and feeling as if he should like to go 
 down suddenly through the floor. The whole form are 
 taken aback ; most of them stare stupidly at him, while 
 those who are gifted with presence of mind find their 
 places and look steadily at their books, in hopes of not 
 catching the master's eye and getting called up in 
 Arthur's place. 
 
 The master looks puzzled for a moment, and then 
 seeing, as the fact is, that the boy is really affected to 
 tears by the most touching thing in Homer, perhaps in 
 all profane poetry put together, steps up to him and 
 lays his hand kindly on his shoulder, saying, " Never 
 mind, my little man, you've construed very well. 
 Stop a minute, there's no hurry." 
 
 Now, as luck would have it, there sat next above 
 Tom that day, in the middle bench of the form, a big 
 boy, by name Williams, generally supposed to be the 
 cock of the shell, therefore, of all the school below the 
 fifths. The small boys, who are great speculators on 
 the prowess of their elders, used to hold forth to one 
 another about Williams' great strength, and to discuss 
 whether East or Brown would take a licking from 
 him. He was called Slogger Williams, from the force 
 with which it was supposed he could hit. In the main, 
 he was a rough, good-natured fellow enough, but very 
 much alive to his own dignity. lie reckoned himself 
 the king of the form, and kept up his position with a 
 strong hand, especially in the matter of forcing boys 
 not to construe more than the legitimate forty lines. 
 He had already grunted and grumbled to himself 
 when Arthur went on reading beyond the forty lines,
 
 Toil BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. %n 
 
 But now that he had broken down just in the middle 
 of all the long words, the slogger's wrath was fairly 
 roused. 
 
 " Sneaking little brute," muttered he, regardless of 
 prudence, " clapping on the waterworks just in the 
 hardest place; see if I don't punch his head after 
 fourth lesson." 
 
 "Whose?" said Tom, to whom the remark seemed 
 be addressed. 
 
 " Why, that little sneak, Arthur's," replied Williams. 
 
 " No, you shan't," said Tom. 
 
 " Hullo! " exclaimed Williams, looking at Tom with 
 great surprise for a moment, and then giving him a 
 sudden dig in the ribs with his elbow, which sent Tom's 
 books flying on the floor, and called the attention of 
 the master, who turned suddenly round, and seeing 
 the state of things, said : 
 
 "Williams, go down three places, and then go on." 
 
 The slogger found his legs very slowly, and pro- 
 ceeded to go below Tom and two other boys with 
 great disgust, and then turning round and facing the 
 master, said, " I haven't learned any more, sir ; our les- 
 son is only forty lines." 
 
 " Is that so ? " said the master, appealing generally 
 to the top bench. ~No answer. 
 
 " Who is the head boy of the form ? " said he, wax- 
 ing wroth. 
 
 "Arthur, sir," answered three or four boys, indica- 
 ting our friend. 
 
 " Oh, your name's Arthur. Well now, what is the 
 length of your regular lesson ? " 
 
 Arthur hesitated a moment, and then said, " We call 
 it only forty lines, sir." 
 
 " How do you mean, you call it ? "
 
 IOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 " Well, sir, Mr. Graham says we ain't to stop there, 
 when there's time to construe more." 
 
 "I understand," said the master. "Williams, go 
 down three more places, and write me out the lesson 
 in Greek and English. And now, Arthur, finish con- 
 struing." 
 
 " Oh ! would I be in Arthur's shoes after fourth 
 lesson?" said the little boys to one another; but 
 Arthur finished Helen's speech without any further 
 catastrophe, and the clock struck four, which ended 
 third lesson. 
 
 Another hour was occupied in preparing and saying 
 fourth lesson, during which Williams was bottling 
 up his wrath ; and when five struck, and the 
 lessons for the day were over, he prepared to take 
 summary vengeance on the innocent cause of his mis- 
 fortune. 
 
 Tom was detained in school a few minutes after the 
 rest, and on coming out into the quadrangle, the first 
 thing he saw was a small ring of boys, applauding 
 Williams, who was holding Arthur by the collar. 
 
 "There, you young sneak," said he, giving Arthur 
 a cuff on the head with his other hand, " what made 
 you say that 
 
 " Hullo ! " said Tom, shouldering into the crowd, 
 "you drop that, Williams ; you sha'n't touch him." 
 
 " Who'll stop me ? " said the slogger, raising his 
 hand again, 
 
 " I," said Tom ; and suiting the action to the word, 
 struck the arm which held Arthur's arm so sharply, 
 that the slogger dropped it with a start, and turned 
 the full current of his wrath on Tom. 
 
 " Will you fight ? " 
 
 " Yes, of course."
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOT, DATS. 2*3 
 
 " Huzza, there's going to be a fight between Slogger 
 Williams and Tom Brown ! " 
 
 The news ran like wild-fire about, and many boys 
 \vho were on their way to tea at their several houses 
 turned back, and sought the back of the chapel, where 
 the fights come off. 
 
 " Just run and tell East to come and back me," said 
 Tom to a small school-house boy, who was off like a 
 rocket to Harrowell's, just stopping for a moment to 
 poke his head into the school-house hall, where the 
 lower boys were already at tea, and sing out, " Fight ! 
 Tom Brown and Slogger Williams." 
 
 Up start half the boys at once, leaving bread, eggs, 
 butter, sprats, and all the rest to take care of them- 
 selves. The greater part of the remainder follow in a 
 minute, after swallowing their tea, carrying their food 
 in their hands to consume as they go. Three or four 
 only remain, who steal the butter of the more impetu- 
 ous, and make to themselves an unctuous feast. 
 
 In another minute East and Martin tear through 
 the quadrangle carrying a sponge, and arrive at 
 the scene of action just as the combatants are begin- 
 ning to strip. 
 
 Tom felt he had got his work cut out for him, as he 
 stripped off his jacket, waistcoat, and braces. East 
 tied his handkerchief round his waist, and rolled up 
 his shirt-sleeves for him : " Now, old boy, don't you open 
 your mouth to say a word, or try to help yourself a 
 bit, we'll do all that ; you keep all your breath and 
 strength for the slogger." Martin meanwhile folded 
 the clothes, and put them under the chapel rails ; and 
 now Tom, with East to handle him and Martin to 
 give him a knee, steps out on the turf, and is ready 
 for all that may come: and here is the slogger too, 
 all stripped, and thirsting for the fray.
 
 2?4 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL CAYS. 
 
 It doesn't look a fair match at first glance: Will- 
 iams is nearly two inches taller, and probably a long 
 year older than his opponent, and he is very strongly 
 made about the arms and shoulders ; " peels well," as 
 the little knot of big fifth-form boys, the amateurs, 
 say ; who stand outside the ring of little boys, looking 
 complacently on, but taking no active part in the pro- 
 ceedings. But down below he is not so good by any 
 means ; no spring from the loins, and feebleish, not to 
 say shipwrecky, about the knees. Tom, on the con- 
 trary, though not half so strong in the arms, is good 
 all over, straight, hard, and springy from neck to 
 ankle, better perhaps in his legs than anywhere. 
 Besides, you can see by the clear white of his eye and 
 fresh bright look of his skin, that he is in tip-top 
 training, able to do all he knows ; while the slogger 
 looks rather sodden, as if he didn't take much exer- 
 cise and ate too much tuck. The time-keeper is 
 chosen, a large ring made, and the two stand up 
 opposite one another for a moment, giving us time 
 just to make our little observations. 
 
 " If Tom'll only condescend to fight with his head 
 and heels," as East mutters to Martin, " we shall do." 
 
 But seemingly he won't, for there he goes in, making 
 play with both hands. Hard all, is the word ; the two 
 stand to one another like men ; rally follows rally in 
 quick succession, each fighting as if he thought to finish 
 the whole thing out of hand. " Can't last at this rate," 
 say the knowing ones, while the partisans of each make 
 the air ring with their shouts and counter-shouts, of 
 encouragement, approval and defiance. 
 
 " Take it easy, take it easy keep away, let him come 
 after you," implores East, as he wipes Tom's face after 
 the first round with wet sponge, while he sits back on
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 275 
 
 Martin's knee, supported by the Madman's long arms, 
 which tremble a little from excitement. 
 
 "Time's up," calls the time-keeper. 
 
 " There he goes again, hang it all ! " growls East as 
 his man is at it again as hard as ever. A very severe 
 round follows, in which Tom gets out and out the 
 worst of it, and is at last hit clean off his legs, and 
 deposited on the grass by a right-hander from the 
 slogger. 
 
 Loud shouts rise from the boys of slogger's house, 
 and the school-house are silent and vicious, ready to 
 pick quarrels anywhere. 
 
 " Two to one in half-crowns on the big 'un," says 
 Rattle, one of the amateurs, a tall fellow, in thunder- 
 and-lightning waistcoat, and puffy, good-natured face. 
 
 "Done!" says Groove, another amateur of quieter 
 look, taking out his note-book to enter it for our friend 
 Rattle sometimes forgets these little things. 
 
 Meantime East is freshening up Tom with the 
 sponges for next round, and has set two other boys to 
 rub his hands. 
 
 "Tom, old boy," whispers he, "this may be fun for 
 you, but it's death to me. He'll hit all the fight out of 
 you in another five minutes, and then I shall go and 
 drown myself in the island ditch. Feint him use your 
 legs ! draw him about ! he'll lose his wind then in no 
 time, and you can go into him. Hit at his body too, 
 we'll take care of his frontispiece by and by." 
 
 Tom felt the wisdom of the counsel, and saw already 
 that he couldn't go in and finish the slogger off at 
 mere hammer and tongs, so changed his tactics com- 
 pletely in the third round. He now fights cautious, 
 getting away from and parrying the slogger's lunging 
 hits, instead of trying to counter, and leading his enemy
 
 276 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 a dance all round the ring after him. " He's funking ; 
 go in, Williams," " Catch him up," "Finish him off," 
 scream the small boys of the slogger party. 
 
 "Just Avhat we w r ant," thinks East, chuckling to 
 himself, as he sees Williams, excited by these shouts 
 and thinking the game in his own hands, blowing him- 
 self in his exertions to get to close quarters again, while 
 Tom is keeping away with perfect ease. 
 
 They quarter over the ground again and again, Tom 
 always on the defensive. 
 
 The slogger pulls up at last for a moment, fairly 
 blown. 
 
 "Now then, Tom," sings out East, dancing with 
 delight. Tom goes in in a twinkling, and hits two 
 heavy body blows, and gets away again before the 
 slogger can catch his wind; which when he does he 
 rushes with blind fury at Tom, and being skillfully 
 parried and avoided, over-reaches himself and falls on 
 his face, amid terrific cheers from the school-house 
 boys. 
 
 " Double your two to one ? " says Groove to Rattle, 
 note-book in hand. 
 
 " Stop a bit," says that hero, looking uncomfort- 
 ably at Williams, who is puffing away on his second's 
 knee, winded enough, but little the worse in any other 
 way. 
 
 After another round the slogger too seems to see 
 that he can't go in and win right off, and has met his 
 match or thereabouts. So he too begins to use his head 
 and tries to make Tom lose patience and come in before 
 his time. And so the fight sways on, now one, and 
 now the other, getting a trifling pull. 
 
 Tom's face begins to look very one-sided there are 
 little queer bumps on his forehead, ancj Jiis mouth is
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 277 
 
 bleeding; but East keeps the wet sponge going so 
 scientifically, that he comes up looking as fresh and 
 bright as ever. Williams is only slightly marked in 
 the face, but by the nervous movement of his elbows 
 you can see that Tom's body blows are telling. In 
 fact, half the vice of the slogger's hitting is neutral- 
 ized, for he daren't lunge out freely for fear of ex- 
 posing his sides. It is too interesting by this time 
 for much shouting, and the whole ring is very 
 quiet. 
 
 " All right, Tommy," whispers East ; " hold on's the 
 horse that's to win. We've got the last. Keep your 
 head, old boy." 
 
 But where is Arthur all this time ? Words cannot 
 paint the poor little fellow's distress. He couldn't 
 muster courage to come up to the ring, but wandered 
 up and down from the great fives' -court to the corner 
 of the chapel rails. Now trying to make up his 
 mind to throw himself between them, and try to 
 stop them ; then thinking of running in and telling 
 his friend Mary, who he knew would instantly report 
 it to the doctor. The stories he had heard of men 
 being killed in prize-fights rose up horribly before 
 him. 
 
 Once only, when the shouts of "Well done, Brown ! " 
 " Huzza for the school-house ! " rose higher than ever, 
 he ventured up to the ring, thinking the victory was 
 won. Catching sight of Tom's face in the state I 
 have described, all fear of consequences vanishing out 
 of his mind, he rushed straight off to the matron's 
 room, beseeching her to get the fight stopped, or he 
 should die. 
 
 But it's time for us to get back to the close. What 
 is this fierce tumult and confusion '( The ring is
 
 2?S TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 broken, and high and angry words are being bandied 
 about ; " It's all fair,"" It isn't " " No hugging ; " 
 the fight is stopped. The combatants, however, sit 
 there quietly, tended by their seconds, while their 
 adherents wrangle in the middle. East can't help 
 shouting challenges to two or three of the other side, 
 though he never leaves Tom for a moment, and plies 
 the sponges as fast as ever. 
 
 The fact is, that at the end of the last round, Tom 
 seeing a good opening, had closed with his opponent, 
 and after a moment's struggle had thrown him heavily, 
 by the help of the fall he had learned from his village 
 rival in the vale of White Horse. Williams hadn't the 
 the ghost of a chance with Tom at wrestling; and the 
 conviction broke at once on the slogger faction, that if 
 this were allowed their man must be licked. There 
 was a strong feeling in the school against catching 
 hold and throwing, though it was generally ruled all 
 fair within certain limits ; so the ring was broken and 
 the fight stopped. 
 
 The school-house are over-ruled the fight is on 
 again, but there is to be no throwing ; and East in high 
 wrath threatens to take his man away after next 
 round (which he don't mean to do, by the way), when 
 suddenly young Brooke comes through the small 
 gate at the end of the chapel. The school-house 
 faction rush to him. " Oh, hurra ! now we shall get 
 fair play." 
 
 "Please, Brooke, come up, they won't let Tom Brown 
 throw him." 
 
 " Throw whom ? " says Brooke, coming up to the 
 ring. " Oh ! Williams, I see. Nonsense ! of course 
 he may throw him if he catches him fairly above the 
 waist."
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 279 
 
 Now, young Brooke, you're in the sixth, you know, 
 and you ought to stop all fights. He looks hard at 
 both boys. "Anything wrong?" says he to East, 
 nodding at Tom. 
 
 " Not a bit." 
 
 "Not beat at all?" 
 
 "Bless you, no ! heaps of fight in him. Ain't there, 
 Tom ? " 
 
 Tom looks at Brooke and grins. 
 
 " How's he ? " nodding at Williams. 
 
 " So, so ; rather done, I think, since his last fall. 
 He won't stand above two more." 
 
 " Time's-up ! " the boys rise again and face one 
 another. Brooke can't find it in his heart to stop 
 them just yet, so the round goes on, the slogger wait- 
 ing for Tom, and reserving all his strength to hit him 
 out should he come in for the wrestling dodge again, 
 for he feels that that must be stopped, or his sponge 
 will soon go up in the air. 
 
 And now another new comer appears on the field, to- 
 wit, the under-porter, with his long brush and great 
 wooden receptable for dust under his arm. He has 
 been sweeping out the schools. 
 
 "You'd better stop, gentlemen," he says; "the 
 doctor knows that Brown's fighting he'll be out in 
 a minute." 
 
 " You go to Bath, Bill," is all that that excellent 
 servitor gets by his advice. And being a man of his 
 hands, and a stanch upholder of the school-house, 
 can't help stopping to look on for a bit, and see Tom 
 Brown, their pet craftsman, fight a round. 
 
 It is grim earnest now, and no mistake. Both boys 
 feel this, and summon every power of head, hand, and 
 eye to their aid, A piece of luck on either side, a foot
 
 280 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 slipping, a blow getting well home, or another fall, 
 may decide it. Tom works slowly round for an open- 
 ing ; he has all the legs, and can choose his own time : 
 the slogger waits for the attack, and hopes to finish it 
 by some heavy right-handed blow. As they quarter 
 slowly over the ground, the evening sun comes out 
 from behind a cloud and falls full on Willaims' face. 
 Tom starts in ; the heavy right hand is delivered, but 
 only grazes his head. A short rally at close quarters, 
 and they close : in another moment the slogger is 
 thrown again heavily for the third time. 
 
 "I'll give you three to two on the little one in half- 
 crowns," said Groove to Rattle. 
 
 "No, thank 'ee," answers the other, diving his hands 
 further into his coat-tails. 
 
 Just at this stage of the proceedings, the door of the 
 turret which leads to the doctor's library suddenly 
 opens, and he steps into the close, and makes straight 
 for the ring, in which Brown and the slogger are both 
 seated on their seconds' knees for the last time. 
 
 "The doctor! the doctor!" shouts some small boy 
 who catches sight of him, and the ring melts away in 
 a few seconds, the small boys tearing off, Tom collaring 
 his jacket and waistcoat, and slipping through the little 
 gate by the chapel, and round the corner to Harro- 
 well's with his backers, as lively as need be ; Williams 
 and his backers making off not quite so fast across the 
 close ; Groove, Rattle and the other bigger fellows try- 
 ing to combine dignity and prudence in a comical 
 manner, and walking off fast enough, they hope, not 
 to be recognized, and not fast enough to look like run- 
 ning away. 
 
 Young Brooke alone remains on the ground by the 
 time the doctor gets there, and touches his hat, not 
 without a slight inward qualm.
 
 THE DOCTOR'S COUNSEL TO YOUNG BROOKE.
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. SSI 
 
 "Hah! Brooke. I am surpaised to see you here. 
 Don't you know that I expect the sixth to stop fight- 
 ing?" 
 
 Brooke felt much more uncomfortable than he had 
 expected, but he was rather a favorite with the doctor 
 for his openness and plainness of speech ; so blurted 
 out, as he walked by the doctor's side, who had already 
 turned back : 
 
 " Yes, sir, generally. But I thought you wished us 
 to exercise a discretion in the matter, too not to inter- 
 fere too soon." 
 
 "But they have been fighting this half-hour and 
 more," said the doctor. 
 
 "Yes, sir, but neither was hurt. And they're the 
 sort of boys who'll be all the better friends now, which 
 they wouldn't have been if they had been stopped any 
 earlier before it was so equal." 
 
 "Who was fighting with Brown?" said the doctor. 
 
 " Williams, sir, of Thompson's. He is bigger than 
 Brown, and had the best of it at first, but not when 
 you came up, sir. There's a good deal of jealousy be- 
 tween our house and Thompson's, and there would have 
 been more fights if this hadn't been let go on, or if 
 either of them had had much the worst of it." 
 
 " Well, but, Brooke," said the doctor, " doesn't this 
 look a little as if you exercised your discretion by only 
 stopping a fight when the school-house boy is getting 
 the worst of it \ " 
 
 Brooke, it must be confessed, felt rather graveled. 
 
 "Ecmember," added the doctor, as he stopped at the 
 turret-door, " this fight is not to go on you'll see to 
 that. And I expect you to stop all fights in future at 
 once." 
 
 " Very well, sir," said young Brooke, touching his
 
 282 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 hat, and not sorry to see the turret-door close behind 
 the doctor's back. 
 
 Meantime Tom and the stanchest of his adherents 
 had reached Harrowell's, and Sally was bustling about 
 to get them a late tea, while Stumps had been sent off 
 to Tew, the butcher, to get a piece of raw beef for 
 Tom's eye, which was to be healed off-hand, so that he 
 might show well in the morning. He was not a bit 
 the worse except a slight difficulty in his vision, a sing- 
 ing in his ears, and a sprained thumb, which he kept 
 in a cold-water bandage, while he drank lots of tea, 
 and listened to the babel of voices talking and specu- 
 lating of nothing but the fight, and how Williams 
 would have given in after another fall (which he didn't 
 in the least believe), and how on earth the doctor 
 could have gotten to know of it such bad luck ! He 
 couldn't help thinking to himself that he was glad 
 he hadn't won ; he liked it better as it was, and felt 
 very friendly to the slogger. And then poor little 
 Arthur crept in and sat down quietly near him, and 
 kept looking at him and the raw beef with such plain- 
 tive looks, that Tom at last burst out laughing. 
 
 "Don't make such eyes, young 'un," said he " there's 
 nothing the matter." 
 
 " Oh, but Tom, are you much hurt? I can't bear 
 thinking it was all for me." 
 
 " Not a bit of it, don't flatter yourself. We were 
 sure to have had it out sooner or later." 
 
 "Well, but you won't go on, will you? You'll 
 promise me you won't go on." 
 
 u Can't tell about that all depends on the houses. 
 We're in the hands of our countrymen, you know. 
 Must fight for the school-house flag, if so be." 
 
 However, the lovers of the science were doomed to
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 283 
 
 disappointment this time. Directly after locking-up, 
 one of the night fags knocked at Tom's door. 
 
 " Brown, young Brooke wants you in the sixth form 
 room." 
 
 Up went Tom to the summons, and found the mag- 
 nates sitting at their supper. 
 
 " Well, Brown," said young Brooke, nodding to him, 
 " how do you feel ? " 
 
 " Oh, very well, thank you, only I've sprained my 
 thumb, I think." 
 
 " Sure to do that in a fight. Well, you hadn't the 
 worst of it, I could see. Where did you learn that 
 throw ? " 
 
 " Down in the country, when I was a boy." 
 
 " Hullo ! why what are you now ? Well, never 
 mind, you're a plucky fellow. Sit down and have 
 some supper." 
 
 Tom obeyed, by no means loth. And the fifth-form 
 boy next him filled him a tumbler of bottled beer, and 
 he ate and drank, listening to the pleasant talk, and 
 wondering how soon he should be in the fifth, and 
 one of that much envied society. 
 
 As he got up to leave, Brooke said, " You must 
 shake hands to-morrow morning ; I shall come and see 
 that done after first lesson." 
 
 And so he did. And Tom and the slogger shook 
 hands with great satisfaction and mutual respect. 
 And for the next year or two, whenever fights were 
 being talked of, the small boys who had been present 
 shook their heads wisely, saying, "Ah ! but you should 
 just have seen the fight between Slogger Williams and 
 Tom Brown ! " 
 
 And now, boys all, three words before we quit the 
 subject. I have put in this chapter on fighting of
 
 284 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 malice prepense, partly because I want to give you a 
 true picture of what every -day school life was in my 
 time, and not a kid-glove and go-to-meeting-coat pic- 
 ture; and partly because of the cant and twaddle 
 that's talked of boxing and fighting with fists now-a- 
 days. Even Thackeray has given in to it ; and only a 
 few weeks ago there was some rampant stuff in the 
 Times on the subject, in an article on field sports. 
 
 Boys will quarrel, and when they quarrel will some- 
 times fight. Fighting with fists is the natural and 
 English way for English boys to settle their quarrels. 
 What substitute for it is there, or ever was there, 
 among any nation under the sun ? What would you 
 like to see take its place ? 
 
 Learn to box, then, as you learn to play cricket and 
 football. Not one of you will be the worse, but very 
 much the better for learning to box well. Should you 
 never have to use it in earnest, there's no exercise in 
 the world so good for the temper, and for the muscles 
 of the back and legs. 
 
 As to fighting, keep out of it if you can, by all 
 means. When the time conies, if it ever should, that 
 you have to say "Yes" or ''No" to a challenge to 
 fight, say " No " if you can only take care you make 
 it clear to yourselves why you say " No." It's a 
 proof of the highest courage, if done from true 
 Christian motives. It's quite right and justifiable, if 
 done from a simple aversion to physical pain and 
 danger. But don't say " No" because you fear a lick- 
 ing, and say or think it's because you fear God, for 
 that's neither Christian nor honest. And if you do 
 fight, fight it out ; and don't give in while you can 
 stand and see.
 
 TOM BKOWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 285 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 FEVER IN THE SCHOOL. 
 
 " This our Lope for all that's mortal, 
 And we too shall burst the bond; 
 Death keeps watch beside the portal, 
 But 'tis life that dwells beyond." 
 
 JOHN STERLING. 
 
 Two years have passed since the events recorded in 
 the last chapter, and the end of the summer half-year 
 is again drawing on. Martin has left and gone on a 
 cruise in the South Pacific, in one of his uncle's ships; 
 the old magpie, as disreputable as ever, his last bequest 
 to Arthur, lives in the joint study. Arthur is nearly 
 sixteen, and is at the head of the twenty, having gone 
 up the school at the rate of a form a half-year. East 
 and Tom have been much more deliberate in their 
 progress, and are only a little way up the fifth form. 
 Great strapping boys they are, but still thorough boys, 
 filling about the same place in the house that young 
 Brooke filled when they were new boys, and much 
 the same sort of fellows. Constant intercourse with 
 Arthur has done much for both of them, especially for 
 Tom ; but much remains yet to be done, if they are 
 to get all the good out of Rugby which is to be got 
 there in these times. Arthur is still frail and delicate, 
 with more spirit than body ; but, thanks to his in- 
 timacy with them and Martin, has learned to. gwim,
 
 286 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 and run, and play cricket, and has never hurt himself 
 by too much reading. 
 
 One evening, as they were all sitting down to supper 
 in the fifth-form room, some one started a report that 
 a fever had broken out at one of the boarding-houses ; 
 " they say," he added, " that Thompson is very ill, and 
 that Dr. Robertson has been sent for from Northamp- 
 ton." 
 
 " Then we shall all be sent home," cried another. 
 " Hurrah ! five weeks' extra holidays, and no fifth- 
 form examination ! " 
 
 " I hope not," said Tom ; " there'll be no Marylebone 
 match then at the end of the half." 
 
 Some thought one thing, some another, many didn't 
 believe the report; but the next day, Tuesday, Dr. 
 Robertson arrived, and stayed all day, and had long 
 conferences with the doctor. 
 
 On Wednesday morning, after prayers, the doctor 
 addressed the whole school. There were several cases 
 of fever in different houses, he said ; but Dr. Robert- 
 son, after the most careful examination, had assured 
 him that it was not infectious, and that if proper care 
 were taken, there could be no reason for stopping the 
 school work at present. The examinations were just 
 coming on, and it would be very unadvisable to break 
 up now. However, any boys who chose to do so were 
 at liberty to write home, and, if their parents wished 
 it, to leave at once. He should send the whole school 
 home if the fever spread. 
 
 The next day Arthur sickened, but there was no 
 other case. Before the end of the week thirty or forty 
 boys had gone, but the rest stayed on. There was a 
 general wish to please the doctor, and a feeling that it 
 was cowardly to run away.
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 287 
 
 On the Saturday Thompson died, in the bright after- 
 noon, while the cricket-match was going on as usual 
 on the big-side ground : the doctor coming from his 
 death-bed, passed along the gravel walk at the side of 
 the close, but no one knew what had happened till the 
 next day. At morning lecture it began to be rumored, 
 and by afternoon chapel was known generally ; and a 
 feeling of seriousness and awe at the actual presence 
 of death among them came over the whole school. In 
 all the long years of his ministry the doctor perhaps 
 never spoke words which sank deeper than some of 
 those in that day's sermon. " When I came yesterday 
 from visiting all but the very death-bed of him who 
 has been taken from us, and looked around upon all 
 the familiar objects and scenes within our own ground, 
 where your common amusements were going on, with 
 your common cheerfulness and activity, I felt there 
 was nothing painful in witnessing that ; it did not 
 seem in any way shocking or out of tune with those 
 feelings which the sight of a dying Christian must be 
 supposed to awaken. The unsuitableness in point of 
 natural feeling between scenes of mourning and scenes 
 of liveliness did not at all present itself. But I did 
 feel that if at that moment any of those faults had 
 been brought before me which sometimes occur among 
 us ; had I heard that any of you had been guilty of 
 falsehood, or of drunkenness, or of any other such sin ; 
 had I heard from any quarter the language of pro- 
 faneness, or of unkind ness, or of indecency ; had I 
 heard or seen any signs of that wretched folly which 
 courts the laugh of fools by affecting not to dread evil 
 and not to care for good, then the unsuitableness of 
 any of these things with the scene I had just quitted 
 would indeed have been most intensely painful. And
 
 288 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL 
 
 why ? Not because such things would really have 
 been worse than at any other time, but because at such 
 a moment the eyes are opened really to know good 
 and evil, because we then feel what it is so to live as 
 that death becomes an infinite blessing, and what it is 
 so to live also, that it were good for us if we had never 
 been born." 
 
 Tom had gone into chapel in sickening anxiety about 
 Arthur, but he came out cheered and strengthened by 
 those grand words, and walked up alone to their study. 
 And when iie sat down and looked round, and saw 
 Arthur's straw-hat and cricket-jacket hanging on their 
 pegs, and marked all his little neat arrangements, not 
 one of which had been disturbed, the tears indeed 
 rolled down his cheeks : but they were calm and 
 blessed tears, and he repeated to himself, " Yes, 
 Geordie's eyes are opened he knows what it is so to 
 live as that death becomes an infinite blessing. But 
 do I ? Oh, God can I bear to lose him ? " 
 
 The week passed mournfully away. No more boys 
 sickened, but Arthur was reported worse each day and 
 his mother arrived early in the week. Tom made 
 many appeals to be allowed to see him, and several 
 times tried to get up to the sick-room ; but the 
 housekeeper was always in the way, and at last spoke 
 to the doctor, who kindly, but peremptorily, forbade 
 him. 
 
 Thompson was buried on the Tuesday ; and the 
 burial service, so soothing and grand always, but be- 
 yond all words solemn when read over a boy's grave 
 to his companions, brought him much comfort, and 
 many strange new thoughts and longings. He went 
 back to his regular life, and played cricket and bathed 
 as usual : it seemed to him that this was the right
 
 TOM BROWN S SCHOOL BAYS. 2bO 
 
 thing to do, and the new thoughts and longings be- 
 came more brave and healthy for the effort. The 
 crisis came on Saturday, the day week that Thompson 
 had died, and during that long afternoon Tom sat in 
 his study reading his Bible and going every half-hour 
 to the housekeeper's room, expecting each time to 
 hear that the gentle and brave little spirit had gone 
 home. But God had work for Arthur to do: the 
 crisis passed on Sunday evening he was declared 
 out of danger; on Monday he sent a message to 
 Tom that he was almost well, had changed his 
 room, and was to be allowed to see him the next 
 day. 
 
 It was evening when the housekeeper summoned him 
 to the sick-room. Arthur was lying on the sofa by the 
 open window, through which the rays of the western 
 sun stole gently, lighting up his white face and golden 
 hair. Tom remembered a German picture of an angel 
 which he knew ; often had he thought how transpar- 
 ent and golden and spirit-like it was ; and he shud- 
 dered to think how like it Arthur looked, and felt a 
 shock as if his blood had all stopped short, as he realized 
 how near the other world his friend must have been 
 to look like that. Never till that moment had he felt 
 how his little chum had twined himself round his 
 heartstrings ; and as he stole gently across the room 
 and knelt down, and put his arm round Arthur's head 
 on the pillow, he felt ashamed and half angry at his 
 own red and brown face, and the bounding sense of 
 health and power which filled every fiber of his body, 
 and made every movement of mere living a joy to him. 
 He needn't have troubled himself ; it was this very 
 strength and power so different from his own which 
 drew Arthur so to him.
 
 TOM CROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 Arthur laid his thin white hand, on which the blue 
 veins stood out so plainly, on Tom's great brown fist, 
 and smiled at him ; and then looked out of the window 
 again, as if he couldn't bear to lose a moment of the 
 sunset, into the tops of the great feathery elms, round 
 which the rooks were circling and clanging, returning 
 in flocks from their evening's foraging parties. The 
 elms rustled, the sparrows in the ivy just outside the 
 window chirped and fluttered about, quarreling and 
 making it up again ; the rooks young and old talked 
 in chorus ; and the merry shouts of the boys, and the 
 sweet click of the cricket-bats, came up cheerily from 
 below. 
 
 " Dear George," said Tom, " I am so glad to be let 
 up to see you at last. I've tried hard to come so often, 
 but they wouldn't let me before." 
 
 " Oh, I know, Tom ; Mary has told me every day 
 about you, and how she was obliged to make the doctor 
 speak to you to keep you away. I'm very glad you 
 didn't get up, for you might have caught it, and you 
 couldn't stand being ill with all the matches going on. 
 And you're in the eleven too, I hear I'm so glad." 
 
 " Yes, ain't it jolly?" said Tom, proudly ; " I'm ninth 
 too. I made forty at the last pie-match and caught 
 three fellows out. So I was put in above Jones and 
 Tucker. Tucker's so savage, for he was head of the 
 twenty-two." 
 
 " "Well, I think you ought to be higher yet," said 
 Arthur, who was as jealous for the renown of Tom in 
 games, as Tom was for his as a scholar. 
 
 " Never mind, I don't care about cricket or anything 
 now your getting well, Geordie ; and I shouldn't have 
 hurt, I know, if they'd have let me come up nothing 
 hurts me. But you'll get about now directly,
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 291 
 
 you? You won't believe how clean I've kept the 
 study. All your things are just as you left them ; and 
 I feed the old magpie just when you used, though I 
 have to come in from big-side for him, the old rip. 
 He won't look pleased all I can do, and sticks his head 
 first on one side and then on the other, and blinks at 
 me before he'll begin to eat, till I'm half inclined to 
 box his ears. And whenever East comes in, you 
 should see him hop off to the window, dot and go one, 
 though Harry wouldn't touch a feather of him now." 
 
 Arthur laughed. " Old Gravey has a good memory ; 
 he can't forget the sieges of poor Martin's den in old 
 times." He paused a moment, and then went on. 
 "You can't think how often I've been thinking of old 
 Martin since I've been ill ; I suppose one's mind gets 
 restless, and likes to wander off to strange unknown 
 places. I wonder what queer new pets the old boy has 
 got; how he must be reveling in the thousand new 
 birds, beasts and fishes." 
 
 Tom felt a pang of jealousy, but kicked it out in a 
 moment. " Fancy him on a South Sea island, with 
 the Cherokees or Patagonians, or some such wild 
 niggers" (Tom's ethnology and geography were 
 faulty, but sufficient for his needs) ; " they'll make the 
 old madman cock medicine-man and tattoo him all 
 over. Perhaps he's cutting about now all blue, and 
 has a squaw and a wigwam. He'll improve their 
 boomerangs, and be able to throw them too, without 
 having old Thomas sent after him by the doctor to 
 take them away." 
 
 Arthur laughed at the remembrance of the boomer- 
 ang story, but then looked grave again, and said : 
 "He'll convert all the island, I know." 
 
 " Yes, if lie don't biovy it up first."
 
 292 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 " Do you remember, Tom, how you and East used 
 to laugh at him and chaff him, because he said he was 
 sure the rooks all had calling-over or prayers, or 
 something of the sort, when the locking-up bell rang? 
 Well, I declare," said Arthur, looking up seriously 
 into Tom's laughing eyes, " I do think he was right. 
 Since I've been lying here, I've watched them every 
 night; and do you know, they really do come, and 
 perch all of them just about locking-up time; and then 
 first there's a regular chorus of caws, and then they 
 stop a bit, and one old fellow, or perhaps two or three 
 in different trees, caw solos, and then off they all go 
 again, fluttering about and cawing anyhow till they 
 roost." 
 
 " I wonder if the old blackies do talk," said Tom, 
 looking up at them. " How they must abuse me 
 and East, and pray for the doctor for stopping the 
 slinging." 
 
 " There ! look, look ! " cried Arthur ; " don't you see 
 the old fellow without a tail coming up? Martin used 
 to call him the 'clerk.' He can't steer himself. You 
 never saw such fun as he is in a high wind, when he 
 can't steer himself home, and gets carried right past 
 the trees, and has to bear up again and again before he 
 can perch. 
 
 The locking-up bell began to toll, and the two boys 
 were silent, and listened to it. The sound soon carried 
 Tom off to the river and the woods, and he began to 
 go over in his mind the many occasions on which he 
 had heard that toll coming faintly down the breeze, 
 and had to pack up his rod in a hurry, and make a run 
 for it, to get in before the gates were shut. lie was 
 roused with a start from his memories by Arthur's 
 voice, gentle and weak from Uis late illness,
 
 TOM BROWN'S RCHOOT, DAYS. 293 
 
 "Tom, will you be angry if I talk to you very 
 seriously ? " 
 
 " No, dear old boy, not I. But ain't you faint, Ar- 
 thur, or ill ? What can I get you ? Don't say any- 
 thing to hurt yourself now you are very weak ; let 
 me come up again." 
 
 "No, no, I shan't hurt myself; I'd sooner speak to 
 you now, if you don't mind. I've asked Mary to tell 
 the doctor that you are with me, so you needn't go 
 down to calling-over; and I mayn't have another 
 chance, for I shall most likely have to go home for 
 change of air to get well, and mayn't come back this 
 half." 
 
 " Oh, do you think you must go away before the 
 end of the half ? I'm so sorry. It's more than five 
 weeks yet to the holidays, and all the fifth-form exam- 
 ination and half the cricket-matches to come yet. And 
 what shall I do all that time alone in our study ? 
 Why, Arthur, it will be more than twelve weeks be- 
 fore I see you again. Oh, hang it, I can't stand that ! 
 Besides, who's to keep me up to working at the exam- 
 ination books? I shall come out bottom of the form, 
 as sure as eggs is eggs." 
 
 Tom was rattling on, half in joke, half in earnest, 
 for he wanted to get Arthur out of his serious vein, 
 thinking it would do him harm ; but Arthur broke 
 in : 
 
 "Oh, please, Tom, stop, or you'll drive all I had to 
 say out of my head. And I'm already horribly afraid 
 I'm going to make you angry." 
 
 " Don't gammon, young 'un," rejoined Tom (the use 
 of the old name, dear to him from old recollections, 
 made Arthur start and smile, and feel quite happy); 
 "you know you ain't afraid, and you've never made
 
 294 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 me angry since the first month \ve chummed together. 
 Now I'm going to be quite sober for a quarter of an. 
 hour, which is more than I am once in a year; so 
 make the most of it; heave ahead, and pitch into me 
 right and left." 
 
 " Dear Tom, I ain't going to pitch into you," said 
 Arthur, piteously ; "and it seems so cocky in me to be 
 advising you, who've been my backbone ever si nee I' ve 
 been at Rugby, and have made the school a paradise 
 to me. Ah, I see I shall never do it, unless I go head- 
 over-heels at once, as you said when you taught me to 
 swim. Tom, I want you to give up using vulgus-books 
 and cribs." 
 
 Arthur sank back on to his pillow with a sigh, as if 
 the effort had been great; but the worst Avas now over, 
 and he looked straight at Tom, who was evidently 
 taken aback. He leaned his elbows on his knees, and 
 stuck his hands into his hair, whistled a verse of 
 " Billy Taylor," and then was quite silent for an- 
 other minute. Not a shade crossed his face but he 
 was clearly puzzled. At last he looked up and 
 caught Arthur's anxious look, took his hand, and said 
 simply : 
 
 " Why, young 'un ? " 
 
 " Because you're the honestest boy in Rugby, and 
 that ain't honest." 
 
 " I don't see that." 
 
 " What were you sent to Rugby for ? " 
 
 " Well, I don't know exactly nobody ever told me. 
 I suppose because all boys are sent to a public school 
 in England." 
 
 " But what do you think yourself? What do you 
 want to do here, and to carry away ? " 
 
 Tom thought a minute. " I want to be A-l at cricket
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 295 
 
 and football, and all the other games, and to make 
 my hands keep my head against any fellow, lout or 
 gentleman. I want to get into the sixth before I 
 leave, and to please the doctor ; and I want to carry 
 away just as much Latin and Greek as will take me 
 through Oxford respectably. There now, young 'un, I 
 never thought of it before, but that's pretty much 
 about my figure. Ain't it all on the square? What 
 have you got to say to that ? " 
 
 " Why, that you are pretty sure to do all that you 
 want, then." 
 
 "Well, I hope so. But you've forgot one thing, 
 what I want to leave behind me. I want to leave be- 
 hind me," said Tom, speaking slow, and looking much 
 moved, " the name of a fellow who never bullied a lit- 
 tle boy, or turned his back on a big one." 
 
 Arthur pressed his hand, and after a moment's 
 silence went on: "You say, Tom, you want 
 to please the doctor. Now, do you want to please 
 him by what he thinks you do, or by what you really 
 do?" 
 
 " By what I really do, of course." 
 
 " Does he think you use cribs and vulgus-books ? " 
 
 Tom felt at once that his flank was turned, but he 
 couldn't give in. "He was at Winchester himself," 
 said he ; " he knows all about it." 
 
 "Yes, but does he think you use them? Do you 
 think he approves of it?" 
 
 " You young villain ! " said Tom, shaking his fist at 
 Arthur, half vexed and half pleased, " I never think 
 about it. Hang it there, perhaps he don't. Well, I 
 suppose he don't." 
 
 Arthur saw that he had got his point ; he knew his 
 friend well, and was wise in silence, as in speech. He
 
 296 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DATS. 
 
 only said, " I would sooner have the doctor's good 
 opinion of me as I really am than any man's in the 
 world." 
 
 After another minute, Tom began again. " Look 
 here, young 'an ; how on earth am I to get time to 
 play the matches this half, if I give up cribs! We're 
 in the middle of that long crabbed chorus in the 
 'Agamemnon ; ' I can only just make head or tail of 
 it with the crib. Then there's Pericles* speech com- 
 ing on in Thucydides, and ' The Birds ' to get up for 
 the examination, besides the Tacitus. Tom groaned 
 at the thought of his accumulated labors. "I say, 
 young 'nn, there's only five weeks or so left to 
 holidays; mayn't I go on as usual for this half? 
 Fll tell the doctor about it some day, or you 
 may." 
 
 Arthur looked out of the window ; the twilight had 
 come on and all was silent. He repeated, in a low 
 voice, " In this thing the Lord pardon thy servant, that 
 when my master goeth into the house of Rimmon to 
 worship there, and he leaneth on my hand, and I bow 
 myself in the house of Rimmon; the Lord pardon 
 thy servant in this thing." 
 
 Not a word more was said on the subject, and the 
 boys were again silent one of those blessed, short 
 silences in which the resolves which color a life are 
 so often taken. 
 
 Tom was the first to break it. " You've been very 
 ill indeed, haven't you Geordie? " said he, with a mix- 
 ture of awe and curiosity, feeling as if his friend had 
 been in some strange place or scene, of which he could 
 form no idea, and full of the memory of his own 
 thoughts during the last week. 
 
 "Yes, very. I'm sure the doctor thought I was
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DATS. 297 
 
 going to die. He gave me the sacrament last Sunday 
 and you can't think what he is when one is ill. He 
 said such brave, and tender, and gentle things to me; 
 I felt quite light and strong after it, and never had 
 any more fear. My mother brought our old medical 
 man, who attended me when I was a poor sickly 
 child; he said my constitution was quite changed, 
 and that I'm fit for anything now. If it hadn't I 
 couldn't have stood three days of this illness. That's 
 all thanks to you, and the games you've made me 
 fond of." 
 
 " More thanks to old Martin," said Tom; " he's been 
 your real friend." 
 
 " Nonsense, Tom; he never could have done for me 
 what you have." 
 
 "Well, I don't know; I did little enough. Did they 
 tell you you won't mind hearing it now, I know 
 that poor Thompson died last week? The other three 
 boys are getting quite round, like you." 
 
 " Oh, yes, I heard of it." 
 
 Then Tom, who was quite full of it, told Arthur of 
 the burial-service in the chapel, and how it had im- 
 pressed him, and he believed all the other boys. 
 " And though the doctor never said a word about it," 
 said he, " and it was a half-holiday and match-day, 
 there wasn't a game played in the close all the after- 
 noon, and the boys all went about as if it were Sun- 
 day." 
 
 " I'm very glad of it," said Arthur. " But, Tom, 
 I've had such strange thoughts about death lately. 
 I've never told a soul of them, not even my mother. 
 Sometimes I think they're wrong ; but, do you know, 
 I don't think in my heart I could be sorry at the 
 death of any of ray friends,"
 
 298 TOM BKOWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 Tom was taken quite aback. "What in the world 
 is the young 'un after now?" thought he; "I've swal- 
 lowed a good many of his crotches, but this altogether 
 beats me. He can't be quite right in his head." He 
 didn't want to say a word, and shifted about uneasily 
 in the dark; however, Arthur seemed to be waiting 
 for an answer, so at last he said, " I don't think I 
 quite see what you mean, Geordie. One's told so 
 often to think about death, that I've tried it on some- 
 times, especially this last week. But we won't talk of 
 it now. I'd better go you're getting tired, and I 
 shall do you harm." 
 
 " No, no, indeed I ain't, Tom ; you must stop till 
 nine, there's only twenty minutes. I've settled you 
 shall stop till nine. And oh ! do let me talk to you 
 I must talk to you. I see it's just as I feared. You 
 think I'm half mad don't you now?" 
 
 "Well, I did think it odd what you said, Geordie, 
 as you ask me." 
 
 Arthur paused a moment, and then said quickly, 
 "I'll tell you how it all happened. At first, when I 
 was sent to the sick room, and found I had really got 
 the fever, I was terribly frightened. I thought I 
 should die, and I could not face it for a moment. I 
 don't think it was sheer cowardice at first, but I 
 thought how hard it was to be taken away from my 
 mother and sisters, and you all, just as I was beginning 
 to see my way to many things, and to feel that I 
 might be a man and do a man's work. To die with- 
 out having fought, and worked, and given one's life 
 away, was too hard to bear. I got terribly impatient, 
 and accused God of injustice, and strove to justify 
 myself ; and the harder I strove the deeper I sank. 
 Then the image of my dear father often came across
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 299 
 
 me, but I turned from it. "Whenever it came, a heavy 
 numbing throb seemed to take hold of my heart and 
 say, ' Dead dead dead.' And I cried out, ' The liv- 
 ing, the living shall praise Thee, O God; the dead can- 
 not praise Thee. There is no work in the grave ; in 
 the night no man can work. But I can work. I can 
 do great things. I will do great things. Why wilt 
 Thou slay me?' And so I struggled and plunged, 
 deeper and deeper, and went down into a living black 
 tomb. I was alone there, with no power to stir or 
 think; alone with myself; beyond the reach of all 
 human fellowship; beyond Christ's reach, I thought, 
 in my nightmare. You, who are brave and bright and 
 strong, can have no idea of that agony. Pray to God 
 you never may. Pray as for your life." 
 
 Arthur stopped from exhaustion, Tom thought; 
 but what between his fear lest Arthur should hurt 
 himself, his awe, and longing for him to go on, he 
 couldn't ask, or stir to help him. 
 
 Presently he went on, but quite calm and slow. " I 
 don't know how long I was in that state. For more 
 than a day, I know ; for I was quite conscious, and 
 lived my outer life all the time, and took my medicine, 
 and spoke to my mother, and heard what they said. 
 But I didn't take much note of time ; I thought time 
 was over for me, and that that tomb was what was be- 
 yond. "Well, on last Sunday morning, as I seemed to 
 lie in that tomb, alone, as I thought, forever and ever, 
 the black dead wall was cleft in two, and I was caught 
 up and borne through into the light by some great 
 power, some living mighty spirit. Tom, do you re- 
 member the living creatures and the wheels in Ezekiel? 
 It was just like that : * when they went I heard the 
 noise of their wings, like the noise of great waters,
 
 300 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 as the voice of the Almighty, the voice of speech, as 
 the noise of an host; when they stood they let down 
 their wings ' ' and they w r ent every one straight for- 
 ward ; whither the spirit was to go they went, and 
 they turned not when they went.' And w r e rushed 
 through the bright air, which was full of myriads of 
 living creatures, and paused on the brink of a great 
 river. And the power held me up, and I knew that 
 that great river was the grave, and death dwelt there; 
 but not the death I had met in the black tomb that 
 I felt was gone forever. For on the other bank of the 
 great river I saw men and women and children rising 
 up pure and bright, and the tears were wiped from 
 their eyes, and they put on glory and strength, and all 
 weariness and pain fell away. And beyond were a 
 multitude which no man could number, and they 
 worked at some great work ; and they who rose from 
 the river went on and joined in the work. They all 
 worked, and each worked in a different way, but all at 
 the same work. And I saw there my father, and the 
 men in the old town whom I knew when I was a 
 child ; many a hard, stern man, who never came to 
 church, and whom they called atheist and infidel. 
 There they were, side by side with my father, whom 
 I had seen toil and die for them, and women and little 
 children, and the seal was on the foreheads of all. 
 And I longed to see what the work was, and could 
 not; so I tried to plunge in the river, for I thought 1 
 Avould join them, but I could not. Then I looked 
 about to see how they got into the river. And this I 
 could not see, but I saw myriads on this side, and they 
 too worked, and I knew that it was the same work ; 
 and the same seal was on their foreheads. And though 
 I saw that there was toil and anguish in the work of
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 301 
 
 these, and that most that were working were blind and 
 feeble, yet I longed no more to plunge into the river, 
 but more and more to know what the work was. 
 And as I looked I saw my mother and my sisters, and 
 I saw the doctor, and you, Tom, and hundreds more 
 whom I knew ; and at last I saw myself too, and I 
 was toiling and doing ever so little a piece of the great 
 work. Then it all melted away, and the power left 
 me, and as it left me I thought I heard a voice say, 
 1 The vision is for an appointed time ; though it tarry, 
 wait for it, for in the end it shall speak and not lie, 
 it shall surely come, it shall not tarry/ It was early 
 morning I know then, it was so quiet and cool, 
 and my mother was fast asleep in the chair by my bed- 
 side ; but it wasn't only a dream of mine. I know it 
 wasn't a dream. Then I fell into a deep sleep, and 
 only woke after afternoon chapel ; and the doctor 
 came and gave me the sacrament, as I told you. I 
 told him and my mother I should get well I knew I 
 should ; but I couldn't tell them why. Tom," said 
 Arthur, gently, after another minute, "do you see why 
 I could not grieve now to see my dearest friend die ? 
 It can't be it isn't, all fever or illness. God would 
 never have let me see it so clear if it wasn't true. 
 I don't understand it all yet it will take me my 
 life and longer to do that to find out what the 
 work is." 
 
 When Arthur stopped there was a long pause. Tom 
 could not speak, he was almost afraid to breathe, lest 
 he should break the train of Arthur's thoughts. lie 
 longed to hear more, and to ask questions. In another 
 minute nine o'clock struck, and a gentle tap at 
 the door called them both back into the world again. 
 They did. not answer, however, for % moment,
 
 302 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 so the door opened and a lady came in carrying a 
 candle. 
 
 She went straight to the sofa, and took hold of 
 Arthur's hand, and then stooped down and kissed 
 him. 
 
 " My dearest boy, you feel a little feverish again. 
 Why didn't you have lights ? You've talked too much 
 and excited yourself in the dark." 
 
 " Oh, no, mother ; you can't think how well I feel. 
 I shall start with you to-morrow for Devonshire. But, 
 mother, here's my friend, here's Tom Brown you 
 know him?" 
 
 "Yes, indeed, I've known him for years," she said, 
 and held out her hand to Tom, who was now standing 
 up behind the sofa. This was Arthur's mother. Tall 
 and slight and fair, with masses of golden hair drawn 
 back from the broad white forehead, and the calm blue 
 eye meeting his so deep and open the eye that he 
 knew so well, for it was his friends' over again, and the 
 lovely tender mouth that trembled while he looked. 
 She stood there a woman of thirty-eight, old enough 
 to be his mother, and one whose face showed the 
 lines which must be written on the faces of good men's 
 wives and widows but he thought he had never seen 
 anything so beautiful. He couldn't help wondering 
 if Arthur's sisters were like her. 
 
 Tom held her hand, and looked on straight in her 
 face ; he could neither let it go nor speak. 
 
 " Now, Tom," said Arthur, laughing, " where are 
 your manners ? you'll stare my mother out of counte- 
 nance." Tom dropped the little hand with a sigh. 
 " There, sit down, both of you. Here, dearest mother, 
 there's room here ; " and he made a place on the sofa 
 for her. " Tom, you needn't go ; I'm sure you won't
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 303 
 
 be called up at first lesson." Tom felt that he would 
 risk being floored at every lesson for the rest of his 
 natural school-life sooner than go, so sat down. " And 
 now," said Arthur, " I have realized one of the dear- 
 est wishes of my life to see you two together." 
 
 And then he led away the talk to their home in. 
 Devonshire, and the red bright earth, and the deep 
 green combes, and the peat streams like cairngorm 
 pebbles, and the wild moor with its high cloudy tors 
 for a giant background to the picture till Tom got 
 jealous, and stood up for the clear chalk streams, and 
 the emerald water meadows and great elms and willows 
 of the dear old royal county, as he gloried to call it. 
 And the mother sat on quiet and loving, rejoicing in 
 their life. The quarter-to-ten struck, and the bell 
 rang for bed before they had well begun their talk, as 
 it seemed. 
 
 Then Tom rose with a sigh to go. 
 
 " Shall I see you in the morning, Geordie ? " said he 
 as he shook his friend's hand. "Never mind though ; 
 you'll be back next half, and I shan't forget the house 
 of Bimraon." 
 
 Arthur's mother got up and walked with him to the 
 door, and there gave him her hand again, and again; 
 his eyes met that deep loving look, which was like a 
 spell upon him. Her voice trembled slightly as she 
 said : " Good night you are one who knows what our 
 Father has promised to the friend of the widow und the 
 fatherless. May He deal with you as you have dealt 
 with me and mine." 
 
 Tom was quite upset ; he mumbled something about 
 owing everything good in him to Geordie looked in 
 her face again, pressed her hand to his lips, and rushed 
 down stairs to his study, where he sat till old Thomas
 
 804 lota BROWN'S SCHOOL 
 
 came kicking at the door, to tell him his allowance 
 would be stopped if he didn't go off to bed. (It 
 would have been stopped anyhow, but that he was a 
 great favorite with the old gentleman, who loved to 
 come out in the afternoons into the close to Tom's 
 wicket, and bowl slow twisters to him, and talk of 
 the glories of by-gone Surrey heroes, with whom he 
 had played in former generations). So Tom roused 
 himself, and took up his candle to go to bed ; and then 
 for the first time was aware of a beautiful new fishing- 
 rod, with old Eaton's mark on it, and a splendidly- 
 bound Bible, which lay on his table, on the title-page 
 of which was written " TOM BROWN, from his affec- 
 tionate and grateful friends, Frances Jane Arthur ; 
 George Arthur." 
 
 I leave you all to guess how he slept, and what he 
 dreamed of.
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 305 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 HARKY EAST'S DILEMMAS AND DELIVERANCES. 
 
 " The Holy Supper is kept indeed, 
 In whatso we share with another's need 
 Not that which we give, but what we share, 
 For the gift without the giver is bare; 
 Who bestows himself with his alms feeds three, 
 Himself, his hungering neighbor, and Me." 
 
 The Vision of Sir Launfal. LOWELL, p. 11. 
 
 THE next morning, after breakfast, Tom, East and 
 Grover met as usual to learn their second lesson 
 together. Tom had been considering how to break 
 his proposal of giving up the crib to the others, and 
 having found no better way (as indeed none better 
 can ever be found by man or boy), told them simply 
 what had happened ; how he had been to see Arthur, 
 who had talked to him upon the subject, and what he 
 had said, and for his part he had made up his mind, 
 and wasn't going to use cribs any more : and not being 
 quite sure of his ground, took the high and pathetic 
 tone, and was proceeding to say, "how that having 
 learned his lessons with them for so many years, it 
 would grieve him much to put an end to the arrange- 
 ment, and he hoped at any rate that if they wouldn't 
 go on with him, they should still be just as good 
 friends, and respect one another's motives but " 
 
 Here the other boys, who had been listening with 
 open eyes and ears, burst in :
 
 30(5 toil BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 " Stuff and nonsense!" cried Gower. " Here, East, 
 get down the crib and find the place." 
 
 "Oh, Tommy, Tommy!" said East, proceeding to 
 do as he was bidden, " that it should ever have come 
 to this. I knew Arthur'd be the ruin of you some 
 day, and you of me. And now the time's come " 
 and he made a doleful face. 
 
 " I don't know about ruin," answered Tom; " I know 
 that you and I would have had the sack long ago, if it 
 hadn't been for him. And you know it as well as I." 
 
 " Well, we were in a baddish way before he came, 
 I own ; but this new crotchet of his is past a joke." 
 
 " Let's give it a trial, Harry ; come you know how 
 often he has been right and we wrong." 
 
 " Now, don't you two be jawing away about young 
 Square-toes," struck in Gower. "He's no end of a 
 sucking wiseacre, I dare say, but we've no time to lose, 
 and I've got the fives'-court at half-past nine." 
 
 " I say, Gower," said Tom, appealingly, " be a good 
 fellow, and let's try if we can't get on without the 
 crib." 
 
 " What ! in this chorus ? Why, we shan't get 
 through ten lines." 
 
 " I say, Tom," cried East, having hit on a new idea, 
 "don't you remember, when we were in the upper 
 fourth, and old Nomus caught me construing off the 
 leaf of a crib which I'd torn out and put in my book, 
 and which would float out on to the floor, he sent me 
 up to be flogged for it ? " 
 
 "Yes, I remember it very well." 
 
 " Well, the doctor, after he'd flogged me, told me 
 himself that he didn't flog me for using a translation, 
 but for taking it into lesson, and using it there when 
 I hadn't learned a word before I came in. He said
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 307 
 
 there was no harm in using a translation to get a clue 
 to hard passages, if you tried all you could first to 
 make them out without." 
 
 " Did he, though ? " said Tom ; " then Arthur must 
 be wrong." 
 
 "Of course he is," said Gower, "the little prig. 
 We'll only use the crib when we can't construe with- 
 out it. Go ahead, East." 
 
 And on this agreement they started ; Tom satisfied 
 with having made his confession, and not sorry to 
 have a locus pwnitentice, and not to be deprived alto- 
 gether of the use of his old and faithful friend. 
 
 The boys went on as usual, each taking a sentence 
 in turn, and the crib being handed to the one whoso 
 turn it was to construe. Of course Tom couldn't ob- 
 ject to this, as, was it not simply lying there to be ap- 
 pealed to in case the sentence should prove too hard 
 altogether for the construer ? But it must be owned 
 that Gower and East did not make very tremendous 
 exertions to conquer their sentences before having re- 
 course to its help. Tom, however, with the most 
 heroic virtue and gallantry rushed into his sentence, 
 searching in a high-minded manner for nominative and 
 verb, and turning over his dictionary frantically for 
 the first hard word that stopped him. But in the 
 meantime, Gower, who was bent on getting to fives, 
 would peep quietly into the crib, and then suggest, 
 "Don't you think this is the meaning?" "I think 
 you must take it this way, Brown ;" and as Tom didn't 
 see his way to not profiting by these suggestions, the 
 lesson went on about as quickly as usual, and Gower 
 was able to start for the fives'-court within five minutes 
 of the half-hour. 
 
 Tom and East were left faqe. to foce, they
 
 308 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 looked at one another for a minute, Tom puzzled, and 
 East chock-full of fun, and then burst into a roar of 
 laughter. 
 
 " Well, Tom," said East, recovering himself, " I 
 don't see any objection to the new way. It's about as 
 good as the old one, I think: besides the advantage it 
 gives one of feeling virtuous, and looking down on 
 one's neighbors. 
 
 Tom shoved his hand into his back hair. " I ain't 
 so sure," said he ; " you two fellows carried me off my 
 legs : I don't think we really tried one sentence fairly. 
 Are you sure you remember what the doctor said 
 to you ? " 
 
 " Yes, and I'll swear I couldn't make out one of my 
 sentences to-day. No, nor ever could. I really don't 
 remember," said East, speaking slowly and impres- 
 sively, " to have come across one Latin or Greek sen- 
 tence this half, that I could go and construe by the 
 light of nature. Whereby I am sure Providence in- 
 tended cribs to be used." 
 
 "The thing to find out," said Tom, meditatively, "is 
 how long one ought to grind at a sentence without 
 looking at the crib. Now I think if one fairly looks 
 out all the words one don't know, and then can't hit it, 
 that's enough." 
 
 "To be sure, Tommy," said East demurely, but with 
 a merry twinkle in his eye. " Your new doctrine too, 
 old fellow," added he " when one comes to think of it, 
 is a cutting at the root of all school morality. You'll 
 take away mutual help, brotherly love, or in the vul- 
 gar tongue, giving construes, which I hold to be one of 
 our highest virtues. For how can you distinguish be- 
 tween getting a construe from another boy, and using 
 a crib? Jiang it, Tom, if you're going to deprive all
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 309 
 
 our school-fellows of the chance of exercising Christian 
 benevolence and being good Samaritans, I shall cut 
 the concern." 
 
 "I wish you wouldn't joke about it, Harry; it's 
 hard enough to see one's way, a precious sight harder 
 than I thought last night. But I suppose there's a 
 use and an abuse of both, and one'll get straight 
 enough somehow. But you can't make out anyhow 
 that one has a right to use old vulgus-books and copy- 
 books." 
 
 " Hullo, more heresy ! how fast a fellow goes down 
 hill when he once gets his head before his legs. 
 Listen to me, Tom. Not use old vulgus-books ? 
 Why, you Goth ! ain't we to take the benefit of the 
 wisdom, and admire and use the work of past gen- 
 erations? Not use old copy-books ? Why you might 
 as well say we ought to pull down Westminster 
 Abbey, and put up a go-to meeting shop with church- 
 warden windows ; or never read Shakespeare, but 
 only Sheridan Knowles. Think of all the work and 
 labor that our predecessors have bestowed on these 
 very books; and are we to make their work of no 
 value ? " 
 
 " I say, Harry, please don't chaff ; I'm really 
 serious." 
 
 " And then, is it not our duty to consult the pleasure 
 of others rather than our own, and above all that of 
 our masters ? Fancy then the difference to them in 
 looking over a vulgus which has been carefully touched 
 and retouched by themselves and others, and which 
 must bring them a sort of dreamy pleasure, as if they'd 
 met the thought or expression of it somewhere or an- 
 other before they were born perhaps ; and that of 
 cutting up, and making picture-frames round all your
 
 310 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 and my false quantities, and other monstrosities. Why 
 Tom, you wouldn't be so cruel as never to let old 
 Momus hum over the ( genus hfumanwmj again, and 
 then look up doubtingly through his spectacles, and 
 end by smiling and giving three extra marks for it : 
 just for old sake's sake, I suppose." 
 
 "Well," said Tom, getting up in something as like 
 a huff as he was capable of, " it's deuced hard that 
 when a fellow's really trying to do what he ought, his 
 best friends'll do nothing but chaff him and try to put 
 him down." And he stuck his books under his arm 
 and his hat on his head, preparatory to rushing out 
 into the quadrangle, to testify with his own soul of 
 the faithlessness of friendships. 
 
 "Now don't be an ass, Tom," said East, catching 
 hold of him, "you know me well enough by this time; 
 my bark's worse than my bite. You can't expect to 
 ride your new crotchet without anybody's trying to 
 stick a nettle under his tail and make him kick you 
 off ; especially as we shall all have to go on foot still. 
 But now sit down and lets go over it again. I'll be as 
 serious as a judge." 
 
 Then Tom sat himself down on the table, and waxed 
 eloquent about all the righteousnesses and advantages 
 of the new plan, as was his wont whenever he took up 
 anything ; going into it as if his life depended upon it, 
 and sparing no abuse which he could think of the 
 opposite method, which he denounced as ungentle- 
 manly, cowardly, mean, lying and no one knows what 
 besides. "Very cool of Tom," as East thought, but 
 didn't say, " seeing as how he only came out of Eg}^pt 
 himself last night at bed-time." 
 
 "Well, Tom," said he at last, "you see, when you 
 and I came to school there were none of these sort of
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 311 
 
 notions. You may be right I dare say you are. Only 
 what one has always felt about the masters is, that it's 
 a fair trial of skill and last between us and them like 
 a match at football, or a battle. We're natural enemies 
 in school, that's the fact. We've got to learn so much 
 Latin and Greek and do so many verses, and they've 
 got to see that we do it. If we can slip the collar and 
 do so much less without getting caught, that's one to 
 us. If they can get more out of us, or catch us shirk- 
 ing, that's one to them. All's fair in war, but lying. 
 If I run my luck against theirs, and go into school 
 without looking at my lessons, and don't get called up, 
 why am I a snob or a sneak ? I don't tell the master 
 I've learned it. He's got to find out whether I have or 
 not; what's he paid for ? If be calls me up, and I get 
 floored, he makes me write it out in Greek and English. 
 Yery good, he's caught me, and I don't grumble. I 
 grant you, if I go and snivel to him, and tell him I've 
 really tried to learn it but found it so hard without a 
 translation, or say I've had a toothache, or any humbug 
 of that kind, I'm a snob. That's my school morality ; 
 it's served me and you too, Tom, for the matter of 
 that these five years. And it's all clear and fair, no 
 mistake about it. We understand it, and they under- 
 stand it, and I don't know what we're to come to with 
 any other." 
 
 Tom looked at him pleased, and a little puzzled. He 
 had never heard East speak his mind seriously before, 
 and couldn't help feeling how completely he had hit his 
 own theory and practice up to that time. 
 
 " Thank you, old fellow," said he. " You're a good 
 old brick to be serious, and not put out with me. I said 
 more than I meant, I dare say, only you see I know 
 I'm right : whatever you and Gower and the rest do 5 1
 
 312 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 shall hold on I must. And as it's all new and an 
 up-hill game, you see, one must hit hard and hold on 
 tight at first." 
 
 " Very good," said East ; " hold on and hit away, 
 only don't hit under the line." 
 
 " But I must bring you over, Harry, or I shan't be 
 comfortable. Now, I allow all you've said. We've 
 always been honorable enemies with the masters. We 
 found a state of war when we came, and went into it of 
 course. Only don't you think things are altered a good 
 deal ? I don't feel as I used to the masters. They 
 seem to me to treat one quite differently." 
 
 "Yes, perhaps they do," said East ; " there's a new 
 set, you see, mostly, who don't feel sure of themselves 
 yet. They don't want to fight till they know the 
 ground." 
 
 " I don't think it's only that," said Tom. " And 
 then the doctor, he does treat one so openty, and 
 like a gentleman, and as if one was working with 
 him." 
 
 " Well, so he does," said East ; " he's a splendid 
 fellow, and when I get into the sixth I shall act 
 accordingly. Only you know he has nothing to do 
 with our lessons now, except examining us. I say, 
 though," looking at his watch, " it's just the quarter. 
 Come along." 
 
 As they walked out they got a message to say, 
 " that Arthur was just starting and would like to say 
 good-bye ; " so they went down to the private entrance 
 of the school-house, and found an open carriage, with 
 Arthur propped up with pillows in it, looking already 
 better, Tom thought. 
 
 They jumped upon to the steps to shake hands with 
 him, and Torn, mumbled thanks for the presents he had
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DATS. 313 
 
 found in his study, and looked round anxiously for 
 Arthur's mother. 
 
 East, who had fallen back into his usual humor 
 looked quaintly at Arthur, and said : 
 
 u So you've been at it again, through that hot- 
 headed convert of yours there. He's been making our 
 lives a burthen to us all the morning about using cribs. 
 I shall get floored to a certainty at second lesson, if 
 I'm called up." 
 
 Arthur blushed and looked down. Tom struck in. 
 
 u Oh, it's all right. He's converted already ; he 
 always comes through the mud after us, grumbling and 
 sputtering." 
 
 The clock struck, and they had to go off to school, 
 wishing Arthur a pleasant holiday; Tom lingering 
 behind a moment to send his thanks and love to 
 Arthur's mother. 
 
 Tom renewed the discussion after second lesson, and 
 succeeded so far as to get East to promise to give the 
 new plan a fair trial. 
 
 Encouraged by his success, in the evening, when 
 thev were sitting alone in the large study, where East 
 lived now almost, " vice Arthur on leave," after exam- 
 ining the new fishing-rod, which both pronounced to be 
 the genuine article, (" play enough to throw a midge 
 tied on a single hair against the wind, and strength 
 enough to hold a grampus,") they naturally began 
 talking about Arthur. Tom, who was still bubbling 
 over with last night's scene, and all the thoughts of the 
 last week, and wanting to clinch and fix the whole in 
 his own mind, which he could never do without first 
 going through the process of belaboring somebody else 
 with it all, suddenly rushed into the subject of Arthur's 
 illness, and what he had said about death.
 
 314 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 East had given him the desired opening: after a 
 serio-comic grumble, "that life wasn't worth having 
 now they were tied to a young beggar who was always 
 ' raising his standard ; ' and that he, East, was like a 
 prophet's donkey, who was obliged to struggle on after 
 the donkey man who went after the prophet ; that he 
 had none of the pleasure of starting the new crotchets, 
 and didn't half understand them, but had to take the 
 kicks and carry the luggage as if he had all the fun," 
 he threw his legs up on to the sofa, and put his hands 
 behind his head, and said : 
 
 "Well, after all, he's the most wonderful little fellow 
 I ever came across. There ain't such a meek, humble 
 boy in the school. Hanged if I don't think now really, 
 Tom, that he believes himself a much worse fellow 
 than you or I, and that he don't think he has more 
 influence in the house than Dot Bowles, who came last 
 quarter, and ain't ten yet. But he turns you and me 
 round his little finger, old boy there's no mistake 
 about that." And East nodded at Tom sagaciously. 
 
 " Now or never !" thought Tom; so shutting his 
 eyes and hardening his heart, he went straight at it, 
 repeating all that Arthur had said, as near as he could 
 remember it, in the very words, and all he had himself 
 thought. The life seemed to ooze out of it as he went 
 on, and several times he felt inclined to stop, give it all 
 up, and change the subject. But somehow he was 
 borne on ; he had a necessity upon him to speak it all 
 out, and did so. At the end he looked at East with 
 some anxiety, and was delighted to see that that young 
 gentleman was thoughtful and attentive. The fact is, 
 that in the stage of his inner life at which Tom had 
 lately arrived, his intimacy with and friendship for East 
 could not have lasted if he had not made him aware
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL BAYS. 315 
 
 of, and a sharer in, the thoughts that were beginning 
 to exercise him. Nor indeed could the friendship have 
 lasted if East had shown no sympathy with these 
 thoughts ; so that it was a great relief to have un- 
 bosomed himself, and to have found that his friend 
 could listen. 
 
 Tom had always had a sort of instinct that East's 
 levity was only skin-deep ; and this instinct was a true 
 one. East had no want of reverence for anything he 
 felt to be real : but his was one of those natures that 
 burst into what is generally called recklessness and 
 impiety the moment they feel that anything is being 
 poured upon them for their good, which does not come 
 home to their inborn sense of right, or which appeals 
 to anything like self-interest in them. Daring and 
 honest by nature, and outspoken to an extent which 
 alarmed all respectabilities, with a constant fund of 
 animal health and spirits which he did not feel bound 
 to curb in any way, he had gained for himself w r ith 
 the steady part of the school (including as well those 
 who wished to appear steady as those who really were 
 so), the character of a boy whom it would be danger- 
 ous to be intimate with ; while his own hatred of every- 
 thing cruel, or underhand, or false, and his hearty 
 respect for what he could see to be good and true, kept 
 off the rest. 
 
 Tom, besides being very like East in many points of 
 character, had largely developed in his composition 
 the capacity for taking the weakest side. This is not 
 putting it strongly enough; it was a necessity with 
 him ; he couldn't help it any more than he could eating 
 or drinking. He could never play on the strongest side 
 with any heart at football or cricket, and was sure to 
 make friends with any boy who was unpopular, or 
 down on his luck
 
 316 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 Now, though East was not what is generally called 
 unpopular, Tom felt more and more every day, as their 
 characters developed, that lie stood alone, and did not 
 make friends among their contemporaries, and there- 
 fore sought him out. Tom was himself much more 
 popular, for his power of detecting humbug was much 
 less acute, and his instincts w r ere much more sociable. 
 lie was at this period of his life, too largely given 
 to taking people for what they gave themselves out 
 to be; but his singleness of heart, fearlessness and 
 honesty Avere just what East appreciated, and thus 
 the two had been drawn into greater intimacy. 
 
 This intimacy had not been interrupted by Tom's 
 guardianship of Arthur. 
 
 East had often, as has been said, joined them in read- 
 ing the Bible; but their discussions had almost always 
 turned upon the characters of the men and women of 
 whom they read, and not become personal to them- 
 selves. In fact, the two had shrunk from personal 
 religious discussion, not knowing how it might end ; 
 and fearful of risking a friendship very dear to both 
 and which they felt somehow, without quite know- 
 ing why, would never be the same, but either tenfold 
 stronger or sapped at its foundation, after such a com- 
 muning together. 
 
 What a bother all this explaining is ! I wish we 
 could get on without it. But we can't. However, 
 you'll all find if you haven't found it out already, 
 that a time comes in every human friendship, when 
 you must go down into the depths of yourself, and 
 lay bare what is there to your friend, and wait in 
 fear for his answer. A few moments may do it; 
 and it may be (most likely will be, as you are English 
 boys) that you never do it but once. But done it
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 31 7 
 
 must be, if the friendship is to be worth the name. 
 You must find what is there, at the very root and 
 bottom of one another's hearts; and if you are at once 
 there, nothing on earth can, or at least ought to sun- 
 der you. 
 
 East had remained lying down until Tom finished 
 speaking, as if fearing to interrupt him ; he now sat 
 up at the table, and leaned his head on one hand, tak- 
 ing up a pencil with the other, and working little holes 
 with it in the table-cover. After a bit he looked up, 
 stopped the pencil, and said, " Thank you very much, 
 old fellow ; there's no other boy in the house would 
 have done it for me but you or Arthur. I can see 
 well enough," he went on after a pause, " all the best 
 big fellows look on me with suspicion ; they think I'm 
 a devil-may-care, reckless young scamp. So I am 
 eleven hours out of twelve but not the twelfth. 
 Then all of our contemporaries worth knowing follow 
 suit, of course ; we're very good friends at games and 
 all that, but not a soul of them but you and Arthur 
 ever tried to break through the crust, and see 
 whether there was anything at the bottom of me ; 
 and then the bad ones I won't stand, and they know 
 that." 
 
 " Don't you think that's half fancy, Harry ? " 
 
 " Not a bit of it," said East bitterly, pegging away 
 with his pencil. " I see it all plain enough. Bless you, 
 you think everybody's as straightforward and kind- 
 hearted as you are." 
 
 " "Well, but what's the reason of it ? There must be 
 a reason. You can play all the games as well as any 
 one, and sing the best song, and are the best company 
 in the house. You. fancy you're not liked, Harry, 
 It's all fancy."
 
 318 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 " I only wish it was, Tom. I know I could be pop- 
 ular enough with all the bad ones, but that I won't 
 have, and the good ones won't have me." 
 
 "Why not?" persisted Tom ; " you don't drink or 
 swear, or get out at night ; you never bully, or cheat 
 at lessons. If you only showed you liked it, you'd 
 have all the best fellows in the house running after 
 you." 
 
 " Not I," said East. Then with an effort he went 
 on, "I'll tell you what it is. I never stop the sacra- 
 ment. I can see, from the doctor downward, how 
 that tells against me." 
 
 " Yes, I've seen that," said Tom, " and I've been 
 very sorry for it, and Arthur and I have talked about 
 it. I've often thought of speaking to you, but it's so 
 hard to begin on such subjects. I'm very glad you've 
 opened it. Now, why don't you?" 
 
 " I've never been confirmed," said East. 
 
 "Not been confirmed!" said Tom in astonishment. 
 "I never thought of that. Why weren't you con- 
 firmed with the rest of us nearly three years ago? 
 I always thought } r ou'd been confirmed at home." 
 
 "No," answered East, sorrowfully; "you see this 
 was how it happened. Last confirmation was soon 
 after Arthur came, and you were so taken up with 
 him, I hardly saw either of you. Well, when the doc- 
 tor sent round for us about it, I w T as living mostly 
 with Green's set you know the sort. They all went 
 in I dare say it was all right, and they got good by 
 it ; I don't want to judge them. Only all I could see 
 of their reasons drove me just the other way. 'T\vas 
 ' because the doctor liked it ; ' 'no boy got on who 
 didn't stay the sacrament ; ' ' it was the correct thing,' 
 in fact, lijse having a good hat to wear on Sundays, I
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 319 
 
 couldn't stand it. I didn't feel that I wanted to lead 
 a different life, I was very well content as I was, and 
 I wasn't going to sham religious to curry favor with 
 the doctor, or any one else." 
 
 East stopped speaking, and pegged away more dili- 
 gently than ever with his pencil. Tom was ready to 
 cry. He felt half sorry at first that he had been con- 
 firmed himself. He seemed to have deserted his earliest 
 friend, to have left him by himself at his worst need 
 for those long years. He got up and went and sat by 
 East and put his arm over his shoulder. 
 
 " Dear old boy," he said, " how careless and selfish 
 I've been. But why didn't you come and talk to Ar- 
 thur and me ? " 
 
 " I wish to heaven I had," said East, " but I was a 
 fool. It's too late talking of it now." 
 
 " Why too late ? You want to be confirmed now, 
 don't you ? " 
 
 " I think so," said East. " I've thought about it a 
 good deal ; only often I fancy I must be changing, be- 
 cause I see it's to do me good here, just what stopped 
 me last time. And then I go back again." 
 
 " I'll tell yon now how 'twas with me," said Tom, 
 warmly. " If it hadn't been for Arthur, I should have 
 done just as you did. I hope I should. I honor you 
 for it. But then he made it out just as if it was tak- 
 ing the weak side before all the world going in once 
 for all against everything that's strong and rich, and 
 proud and respectable, a little band of brothers against 
 the whole world. And the doctor seemed to say so, 
 too, only he said a great deal more." 
 
 "Ah !" groaned East, "but there again, that's just 
 another of my difficulties whenever I think about the 
 matter. I don't want to be one of your saints, one of
 
 820 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 your elect, whatever the right phrase is. My sympa- 
 thies are all the other way ; with the many, the poor 
 devils who run about the streets and don't go to 
 church. Don't stare, Tom ; mind, I'm telling you all 
 that's in my heart as far as I know it but it's all a 
 muddle. You must be gentle with me if you want to 
 land me. Now I've seen a deal of this sort of religion ; 
 I was bred up in it, and I can't stand it. If nineteen- 
 tvventieths of the world are to be left to uncovenanted 
 mercies, and that sort of thing, which means in plain 
 English to go to hell, and the other twentieth are to 
 rejoice at it all, why 
 
 "Oh! but, Harry, they ain't, they don't," broke in 
 Tom, really shocked. " Oh, how I wish Arthur hadn't 
 gone! I'm such a fool about these things. But it's 
 all you want too, East ; it is indeed. It cuts both ways 
 somehow, being confirmed and taking the sacrament. 
 It makes you feel on the side of all the good and all 
 the bad too, of everybody in the world. Only there's 
 some great dark strong power, which is crushing you 
 and everybody else. That's what Christ conquered, 
 and we've got to fight. What a fool I am ? I can't ex- 
 plain. If Arthur were only here ! " 
 
 " I begin to get a glimmering of what you mean," 
 said East. 
 
 "I say now," said Tom eagerly, " do you remember, 
 how we both hated Flashman ? " 
 
 "Of course I do," said East; "I hate him still. 
 What then ? " 
 
 " Well, when I came to take the sacrament, I had 
 a great struggle about that. I tried to put him out of 
 my head ; and when I couldn't do that, I tried to think 
 of him as evil, as something that the Lord who was 
 loving me hated, and which I might hate too. But it
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 32 i 
 
 wouldn't do. I broke down: I believe Christ himself 
 broke me down; and when the doctor gave me the 
 bread and wine, and leaned over me praying, I 
 prayed for poor Flashman, as if it had been you or 
 Arthur." 
 
 East buried his face in his hands on the table. Tom 
 could feel the table tremble. At last he looked up, 
 "Thank you again, Tom," said he; "you don't know 
 what you may have done for me to-night. I think I 
 see now how the right sort of sympathy with poor 
 devils is got at." 
 
 " And you'll stop the sacrament next time, won't 
 you ? " said Tom. 
 
 " Can I, before I'm confirmed ? " 
 
 " Go and ask the doctor." 
 
 "I will." 
 
 That very night, after prayers, East followed the 
 doctor and the old verger bearing the candle, up- 
 stairs. Tom watched, and saw the doctor turn round 
 when he heard footsteps following him closer than 
 usual, and say, " Hah, East ! Do you want to speak with 
 me, my man ? " 
 
 "If you please, sir;" and the private door closed 
 and Tom went to his study in a state of great trouble 
 of mind. 
 
 It was almost an hour before East came back : then 
 he rushed in breathless. 
 
 ""Well, it's all right," he shouted, seizing Tom by 
 the hand. "I feel as if a ton- weight were off my 
 mind." 
 
 " Hurra," said Tom. " I knew it would be ; but tell 
 us all about it ? " 
 
 " Well, I just told him all about it. You can't think 
 jiow Idnd and gentle he was, the great grim man,
 
 322 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 whom I've feared more that anybody on earth. When 
 I stuck, he lifted me, just as if I had been a little child. 
 And he seemed to know all I'd felt and to have gone 
 through it all. And I burst out crying more than 
 I've done this five years ; and he sat down by me, and 
 stroked my head ; and I went blundering on, and told 
 him all; much worse things than I've told you. And 
 he wasn't shocked a bit, and didn't snub me, or tell me 
 I was a fool, and it was all nothing but pride or 
 Avickedness, though I dare say it was. And he didn't 
 tell me not to follow out my thoughts, and he didn't 
 give me any cut-and-dried explanation. But when I'd 
 done he just talked a bit I can hardly remember 
 Avhat he said yet ; but it seemed to spread round me 
 like healing, and strength, and light ; and to bear me 
 up, and plant me on a rock, where I could hold my 
 footing, and fight for myself. I don't know what to 
 do, I feel so happy. And it's all owing to you, dear 
 old boy ! " and he seized Tom's hand again. 
 
 "And you're to come to the communion?" said 
 Tom. 
 
 "Yes, and to be confirmed in the holidays." 
 
 Tom's delight was as great as his friend's. But he 
 hadn't yet had out all his own talk, and was bent on 
 improving the occasion : so he proceeded to propound 
 Arthur's theory about not being sorry for his friends' 
 deaths, which he had hitherto kept in the background, 
 and by which he was much exercised ; for he didn't feel 
 it honest to take what pleased him and throw over the 
 rest, and was trying vigorously to persuade himself 
 that he should like all his best friends to die off- 
 hand. 
 
 But East's powers of remaining serious were ex- 
 hausted, and in five minutes he was saying the most
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 323 
 
 ridiculous things he could think of, till Tom was almost 
 getting angry again. 
 
 Despite of himself, however, he couldn't help laugh- 
 ing and giving it up, when East appealed to him with 
 " Well, Tom, you ain't going to punch my head, I 
 hope, because I insist upon being sorry when you got 
 to earth ? " 
 
 And so their talk finished for that time, and they 
 tried to learn first lesson ; with very poor success, as 
 appeared next morning, when they were called up and 
 narrowly escaped being floored, which ill-luck, how- 
 ever, did not sit heavily on either of their souls.
 
 324 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 TOM BROWN'S LAST MATCH. 
 
 *' Heaven grant the manlier heart, that timely, ere 
 Youth fly, with life's real tempest would be coping ; 
 The fruit of dreamy hoping 
 Is waking blank despair." 
 
 CLOUGH. Ambarvalia. 
 
 THE curtain now rises upon the last act of our little 
 drama for hard-hearted publishers warn me that a 
 single volume must of necessity have an end. Well, 
 well ! the pleasantest things must come to an end. I 
 little thought last long vacation, when I began these 
 pages to help while away some spare time at a water- 
 ing place, how vividly many an old scene, which had 
 lain hid away for years in some dusty old corner of 
 my brain, would come back again, and stand before 
 me as clear and bright as if it had happened yesterday. 
 The book has been a most grateful task to me, and I 
 only hope that all you, my dear young friends who 
 read it (friends assuredly you must be, if you get as 
 far as this), will be half as sorry to come to the last 
 stage as I am. 
 
 Not but what there has been a solemn and a sad 
 side to it. As the old scenes became living, and the 
 actors in them became living too, many a grave in the
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 325 
 
 Crimea and distant India, as well as in the quiet 
 churchyards of our dear old country, seemed to open 
 and send forth their dead, and their voices and looks 
 and ways were again in one's ears and eyes, as in the 
 old school-days. But this was not sad ; how should 
 it be, if we believe as our Lord has taught us ? 
 How should it be, when, one more turn of the wheel, 
 and we shall be by their sides again, learning from 
 them again, perhaps, as we did when we were new 
 boys? 
 
 Then there were others of the old faces so dear to 
 us once, who had somehow or another just gone clean 
 out of sight are they dead or living? "We know not; 
 but the thought of them brings no sadness with it. 
 Wherever they are, we can well believe they are doing 
 God's work and getting His wages. 
 
 But are there not some, whom we still see some- 
 times in the streets, whose haunts and homes we know, 
 whom we could probably find almost any day in the 
 week if we were set to do it, yet from whom we are 
 really farther than we are from the dead, and from 
 those who have gone out of our ken ? Yes, there are 
 and must be such ; and therein lies the sadness of old 
 school memories. Yet of these our old comrades, 
 from whom more than time and space separate us, 
 there are some, by whose sides we can feel sure that 
 we shall stand again when time shall be no more. 
 We may think of one another now as dangerous fa- 
 natics or narrow bigots, with whom no truce is possible 
 from whom we shall only sever more and more to 
 the end of our lives, whom it would be our respective 
 duties to imprison or hang, if we had the power. 
 We must go our way, and they theirs, as long as flesh
 
 326 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 and spirit hold together ; but let our own Rugby poet 
 speak words of healing for this trial : 
 
 " To veer how vain! on, onward strain, 
 
 Brave barks! in light in darkness too; 
 Through winds and tides one compass guides, 
 To that, and your own selves, be true. 
 
 " But, O blithe breeze! and O great seas! 
 
 Though ne'er that earliest parting past, 
 On your wide plain they join again, 
 Together lead them home at last. 
 
 "One port, inethought, alike they sought, 
 
 One purpose hold where'er they fare. 
 O bounding breeze! O rushing seas! 
 At last, at last, unite them there."* 
 
 This is not mere longing, it is prophecy. So over 
 these two, our old friends who are friends no more, we 
 sorrow not as men without hope. It is only for those 
 who seem to us to have lost compass and purpose, and 
 to be driven helplessly on rocks and quicksands ; whose 
 lives are spent in the service of the world, the flesh, 
 and the devil ; for self alone, and not for their fellow- 
 men, their country, or their God, that we must mourn 
 and pray without sure hope and without light ; trusting 
 only that He, in whose hands they as well as we are, 
 who has died for them as well as for us, who sees all 
 His creatures 
 
 "With larger, other eyes than ours, 
 To make allowance for us all," 
 
 will, in His own way and at His own time, lead them 
 also home. 
 
 Another two years have passed, and it is again the 
 
 * Clough . A mbarvalia.
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 327 
 
 end of the summer half-year at Rugby ; in fact, the 
 school has broken up. The fifth-form examinations 
 were over last week, and upon them have followed the 
 speeches, and the sixth- form examinations for exhibi- 
 tions ; and they too are over now. The boys have gone 
 to all the winds of heaven, except the town boys and 
 the eleven, and the few enthusiasts besides who have 
 asked leave to stay in their houses to see the result of 
 the cricket-matches. For this year the Wellesburn re- 
 turn match and the Marylebone match are played at 
 Rugby, to the great delight of the town and neighbor- 
 hood, and the sorrow of those aspiring young cricketers 
 who have been reckoning for the last three months on 
 showing off at Lord's ground. 
 
 The doctor started for the lakes yesterday morning, 
 after an interview with the captain of the eleven, in 
 the presence of Thomas, at which he arranged in what 
 school the cricket dinners were to be, and all other 
 matters necessary for the satisfactory carrying out of 
 the festivities ; and warned them as to keeping all 
 spirituous liquors out of the close, and having the gates 
 closed by nine o'clock. 
 
 The Wellesburn match was played out with great 
 success yesterday, the school winning by three wickets ; 
 and to-day the great event of the cricketing year, the 
 Marylebone match is being pla\^ed. "What a match it 
 has been ! The London eleven came down by an after- 
 noon train yesterday, in time to see the end of the 
 "Wellesburn match ; and as soon as it was over, their 
 leading men and umpire inspected the ground, criticis- 
 ing it rather unmercifully. The captain of the school 
 eleven, and one or two others, who had played the 
 Lord's match before, and knew old Mr. Aislabie and 
 several of the Lord's men, accompanied them: while
 
 328 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 the rest of the eleven looked on from under the Three 
 Trees with admiring eyes, and asked one another the 
 names of the illustrious strangers, and recounted how 
 many runs each of them had made in the late matches 
 in BeWs Life. They looked such hard-bitten, wiry, 
 whiskered fellows, that their young adversaries felt 
 rather desponding as to the result of the morrow's 
 match. The ground was at last chosen, and two men 
 set to work upon it to water and roll ; and then, there 
 being yet some half-hour of daylight, some one had 
 suggested a dance on the turf. The close was half full 
 of citizens and their families, and the idea was hailed 
 with enthusiasm. The cornopean-player was still on 
 the ground ; in five minutes the eleven and half-a-dozen 
 of the Wellesburn and Marylebone men got partners 
 somehow or another, and a merry country dance was 
 going on, to which every one flocked, and new couples 
 joined in every minute, till there were a hundred of 
 them going down the middle and up again and the 
 long line of school buildings looked gravely down on 
 them, every window glowing with the last rays of the 
 western sun, and the rooks clanged about in the tops 
 of the old elms, greatly excited, and resolved on hav- 
 ing their country dance too, and the great flag flapped 
 lazily in the gentle western breeze. Altogether it was 
 a sight which would have made glad the heart of our 
 brave old founder, Lawrence Sheriff, if he were half 
 as good a fellow as I take him to have been. It was a 
 cheerful sight to see ; but what made it so valuable in 
 the sight of the captain of the school eleven was, that 
 he there saw his young hands shaking off their shy- 
 ness and awe of the Lord's men, as they crossed hands 
 and capered about on the grass together ; for the stran- 
 gers entered into it all, and threw away their cigars,
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 329 
 
 and danced and shouted like boys ; while old Mr. Ais- 
 labie stood by looking on in his white hat, leaning on 
 a bat in benevolent enjoyment. "This hop will be 
 worth thirty runs to us to-morrow, and will be the 
 making of Haggles and Johnson," thinks the young 
 leader, as he revolves many things in his mind, stand- 
 by the side of Mr. Aislabie, whom he will not leave 
 for a minute, for he feels that the character of the 
 school for courtesy is resting on his shoulders. 
 
 But when a quarter-to-nine struck, and he saw old 
 Thomas beginning to fidget about with the key in his 
 hand, he thought of the doctor's parting monition and 
 stopped the cornopean at once, notwithstanding the 
 loud-voiced remonstrances from all sides; and the 
 crowd scattered away from the close, the eleven all 
 going into the school-house, where supper and beds 
 were provided for them by the doctor's orders. 
 
 Deep had been the consultations at supper as to the 
 order of going in, who should bowl the first over, 
 whether it would be best to play steady or freely ; and 
 the youngest hands declared that they shouldn't be a 
 bit nervous, and praised their opponents as the jolliest 
 fellows in the world, except perhaps, their old friends, 
 the Wellesburn men. How far a little good nature 
 from their elders will go with the right sort of 
 boys! 
 
 The morning had dawned bright and warm, to the 
 intense relief of many an anxious youngster, up betimes 
 to mark the signs of the weather. The eleven went 
 down in a body before breakfast, for a plunge in the 
 cold bath in the corner of the close. The ground was 
 in splended order, and soon after ten o'clock, before 
 spectators had arrived, all was ready, and two of the 
 Lord's men took their places at the wicket ; the school,
 
 330 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 with the usual liberality of young hands having put 
 their adversaries in lirst. Old Bailey stepped up 
 to the wicket, and called play, and the match has 
 begun. 
 
 "Oh, well bowled! well bowled, Johnson !" cries 
 the captain, catching up the ball and sending it high 
 above the rook trees, while the third Marylebone 
 man walks away from the wicket, and old Bailey 
 gravely sets up the middle stump again and puts the 
 bails on. 
 
 " How many runs ? " Away scamper three boys to 
 the scoring-table, and are back again in a minute 
 among the rest of the eleven, who are collected to- 
 gether in a knot between wicket. " Only eighteen 
 runs, and three wickets down ! " " Huzza for old 
 Rugby ! " sings out Jack Haggles the long-stop, tough- 
 est and burliest of boys, commonly called " Swiper 
 Jack ; " and forthwith stands on his head, and brand- 
 ishes his legs in the air in triumph, till the next boy 
 catches hold of his heels, and throws him over on to his 
 back. 
 
 " Steady there, don't be such an ass, Jack," says the 
 captain ; " we havn't got the best wicket yet. Ah, 
 look out now at cover-point," adds he, as he sees a 
 long-armed, bare-headed, slashing-looking player 
 coming to the wicket. " And, Jack, mind your hits ; 
 he steals more runs than any man in England." 
 
 And they all find that they have got their work to 
 do now : the new-comer's off-hitting is tremendous, 
 and his running like a flash of lightning. He is never 
 in his ground, except when his wicket is down. 
 Nothing in the whole game so trying to boys ; he has 
 stolen three byes in the first ten minutes, and Jack
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 331 
 
 Haggles is furious, and begins throwing over savagely 
 to the further wicket, until he is sternly stopped by 
 the captain. It is all that young gentleman can do to 
 keep his team steady, but he knows that everything 
 depends on it, and faces his work bravely. The score 
 creeps up to fifty, the boys begin to look blank, and 
 the spectators, who are now mustering strong, are 
 very silent. The ball flies off his bat to all parts of 
 the field, and he gives no rest and no catches to any 
 one. But cricket is full of glorious chances, and the 
 goddess who presides over it loves to bring down the 
 most skillful players. Johnson, the young bowler, is 
 getting wild, and bowls a ball almost wide to the off ; 
 the batter steps out and cuts it beautifully to where 
 cover-point is standing very deep, in fact almost off the 
 ground. The ball comes skimming and twisting 
 along about three feet from the ground ; he rushes at 
 it, and it sticks somehow or other in the fingers of his 
 left hand, to the utter astonishment of himself and the 
 whole field. Such a catch hasn't been made in the 
 close for years, and the cheering is maddening. " Pretty 
 cricket," says the captain, throwing himself on the 
 ground by the deserted wicket with a long breath ; he 
 feels that a crisis has passed. 
 
 I wish I had space to describe the whole match ; how 
 the captain stumped the next man off a leg shooter, 
 and bowled slow lobs to old Mr. Aislabie, who came in 
 for the last wicket. How the Lord's men were out by 
 half past twelve o'clock for ninety-eight runs. How 
 the captain of the school eleven went in first to give 
 his men pluck, and scored twenty -five in beautiful 
 style ; how Rugby was only four behind in the first 
 innings. What a glorious dinner they had in the 
 fourth-form school, and how the cover-point hitter sang
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 the most topping comic songs, and old Mr. Aislabie 
 made the best speeches that ever were heard, afterward. 
 But I haven't space, that's the fact, and so you must 
 fancy it all, and carry yourselves on to half-past seven 
 o'clock, when the school are again in, with five wickets 
 down and only thirty-two runs to make to win. The 
 Marylebone men played carelessly in their second in- 
 nings, but they are working like horses now to save 
 the match. 
 
 There is much healthy, hearty, happy life scattered 
 up and down the close ; but the group to which I beg 
 to call your especial attention is there, on the slope 
 of the island, which looks toward the cricket-ground. 
 It consists of three figures ; two are seated on a bench 
 and one on the ground at their feet. The first, a tall, 
 slight, and rather gaunt man with a bushy eyebrow 
 and a dry humorous smile, is evidently a clergyman. 
 He is carelessly dressed, and looks rather used up, 
 which isn't much to be wondered at, seeing that he has 
 just finished six weeks of examination work; but there 
 he basks, and spreads himself out in the evening sun, 
 bent on enjoying life, though he doesn't quite know 
 what to do with his arms and legs. Surely it is our 
 friend the young master, whom we have had glimpses 
 of before, but his face has gained a great deal since we 
 last came across him. 
 
 And by his side, in white flannel shirt and trousers, 
 straw hat, the captain's belt, and the untanned yellow 
 cricket shoes which all the eleven wear, sits a strap- 
 ping figure near six feet high, with ruddy tanned face 
 and whiskers, curly brown hair and a laughing, 
 dancing eye. He is leaning forward with his elbows 
 resting on his knees, and dandling his favorite bat, 
 with which he has made thirty or forty runs to-day,
 
 THE CONVERSATION DURING THE MATCH.
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 333 
 
 in his strong brown hands. It is Tom Brown, grown 
 into a young man nineteen years old, a praepostor 
 and captain of the eleven, spending his last day as a 
 Rugby boy, and let us hope as much wiser as he is 
 bigger since we last had the pleasure of coming across 
 him. 
 
 And at their feet on the warm dry ground, similarly 
 dressed, sits Arthur, Turkish fashion, with his bat 
 across his knees. He too is no longer a boy, less of 
 a boy in fact than Tom, if one may judge from the 
 thoughtfulness of his face, which is somewhat paler 
 too than one could wish ; but his figure, though slight 
 is well knit and active, and all his old timidity has dis- 
 appeared, and is replaced by silent quaint fun with 
 which his face twinkles all over^ as he listens to the 
 broken talk between the other two, in which he joins 
 every now and then. 
 
 All three are watching the game eagerly, and joining 
 in the cheering which follows every good hit. It is 
 pleasing to see the easy, friendly footing which the 
 pupils are on with their master, perfectly respectful, 
 yet with no reserve and nothing forced in their inter- 
 course. Tom has clearly abandoned the old theory of 
 " natural enemies," in this case at any rate. 
 
 But it is time to listen to what they are saying, and 
 see what we can gather out of it. 
 
 "I don't object to your theory," says the master, 
 " and I allow you have made a fair case for yourself. 
 But now, in such books as Aristophanes for instance, 
 you've been reading a play this half with the doctor, 
 haven't you?" 
 
 " Yes, the 'Knights,' " answered Tom. 
 
 " Well, I'm sure you would have enjoyed the won- 
 derful humor of it twice as much if you bad taken 
 more pains with your scholarship."
 
 334 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 "Well, sir, I don't believe any boy in the form 
 enjoyed the sets-to between Cleon and the Sausage- 
 seller more than I did eh, Arthur?" said Tom, giving 
 him a stir with his foot. 
 
 "Yes, I must say he did," said Arthur. "I think 
 sir, you've hit upon the wrong book there." 
 
 " Not a bit of it," said the master. "Why, in those 
 very passages of arms, how can you thoroughly appre- 
 ciate them unless you are master of the weapons ? and 
 the weapons are the language, which you, Brown, have 
 never half worked at; and so, as I say, you must have 
 lost all the delicate shades of meaning which make the 
 best part of the fun." 
 
 "Oh! well played bravo, Johnson!" shouted 
 Arthur, dropping his bat and clapping furiously, and 
 Tom joined in with a " Bravo, Johnson ! " which might 
 have been heard at the chapel. 
 
 "Eh! what was it? I didn't see," inquired the 
 master ; " they only got one run, I thought ? " 
 
 "No, but such a ball, three quarters length and 
 coming straight for his leg bail. Nothing but that 
 turn of the wrist could have saved him, and he drew it 
 away to leg for a safe one. Bravo, Johnson ! " 
 
 " How well they are bowling, though," said Arthur ; 
 " they don't mean to be beat, I can see." 
 
 " There now," struck in the master, " you see that's 
 just what I have been preaching this half-hour. The 
 delicate play is the true thing. I don't understand 
 cricket, so I don't enjoy those fine draws which you tell 
 me are the best play, though when you or Haggles hit 
 a ball hard away for six 1 am as delighted as any one. 
 Don't you see the analogy ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir," answered Tom, looking up roguishly, 
 " I see ; only the question remains whether I should
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 335 
 
 have got most good by understanding Greek particles 
 or cricket thoroughly. I'm such a thick, I never 
 should have had time for both." 
 
 " I see you are an incorrigible," said the master with 
 a chuckle ; " but I refute you by an example. Arthur 
 there has taken in Greek and cricket too." 
 
 "Yes, but no thanks to him ; Greek came natural to 
 him. Why, when he first came I remember he used to 
 read " Herodotus" for pleasure as I did " Don Quixote," 
 and couldn't have made a false concord if he'd tried 
 ever so hard and then I looked after his cricket." 
 
 " Out ! Bailey has given him out do you see, Tom ? " 
 cries Arthur. " How foolish of them to run so hard." 
 
 " Well, it can't be helped, he has played very well. 
 Whose turn is it to go in ? " 
 
 " I don't know ; they've got your list in the tent." 
 
 " Let's go and see," said Tom, rising ; but at this 
 moment Jack Raggles and two or three more came 
 running to the island moat. 
 
 " Oh, Brown, mayn't I go in next ? " shouts the 
 swiper. 
 
 " Whose name is next on the list ? " says the cap- 
 tain. 
 
 "Winter's, and then Arthur's," answers the bo/* 
 who carries it; "but there are only twenty-six runs 
 to get, and no time to lose. I heard Mr. Aislabie say 
 that the stumps must be drawn at a quarter past eight 
 exactly. 
 
 " Oh, do let the swiper go in," chorus the boys : so 
 Tom yields against his better judgment. 
 
 " I dare say now I've lost the match by this non- 
 sense," he says, as he sits down again ; " they'll be 
 sure to get Jack's wicket in three or four minutes ; 
 however, you'll have the chance, sir, of seeing a hard
 
 336 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 hit or two," adds he, smiling, and turning to the 
 master. 
 
 " Come, none of your irony, Brown," answers the 
 master. "I'm beginning to understand the game 
 scientifically. What a noble game it is too ! " 
 
 "Isn't it? But it's more than a game. It's an 
 institution," said Tom. 
 
 " Yes," said Arthur, " the birthright of British boys, 
 old and young, as habeas corpus and trial by jury are 
 of British men." 
 
 "The discipline and reliance on one another which 
 it teaches is so valuable, I think," went on the master, 
 " it ought to be such an unselfish game. It merges 
 the individual in the eleven ; he doesn't play that he 
 may win, but that his side may." 
 
 " That's very true," said Tom, " and that's why foot- 
 ball and cricket, now one comes to think of it, are such 
 much better games than fives' or hare-and-hounds, or 
 any others where the object is to come in first or to 
 win for one's self, and not that one's side may win." 
 
 " And then the captain of the eleven ! " said the 
 master, " what a post is his in our school-world ! 
 almost as hard as the doctor's ; requiring skill and 
 gentleness and firmness, and I know not what other 
 rare qualities." 
 
 "Which don't he wish he may get?" said Tom, 
 laughing ; " at any rate he hasn't got them yet, or he 
 wouldn't have been such a flat to-night as to let Jack 
 Haggles go in out of his turn." 
 
 " Ah ! the doctor never would have done that," said 
 Arthur, demurely. " Tom, you've a great deal to learn 
 yet in the art of ruling." 
 
 " Well, I wish you'd tell the doctor so, then, and get 
 him to let me stop till I'm twenty, I don't want to 
 leave, I'm sur."
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 337 
 
 "What a sight it is," broke in the master, "the 
 doctor as a ruler. Perhaps ours is the only little corner 
 of the British empire which is thoroughly, wisely, an<? 
 strongly ruled just now. I'm more and more thankful 
 every day of my life that I came here to be under 
 him." 
 
 " So am I, I'm sure," said Tom ; " and more and 
 more sorry that I've got to leave." 
 
 "Every place and thing one sees here reminds one 
 of some wise act of his," went on the master. " This 
 island now you remember the time, Brown, when it 
 was laid out in small gardens, and cultivated by frost- 
 bitten fags in February and March ? " 
 
 "Of course I do," said Tom; "didn't I hate spend- 
 ing two hours in the afternoons grubbing in the tough 
 dirt with the stump of a fives'-bat ? But turf-cart 
 was good fun enough." 
 
 " I dare say it was, but it was always leading to 
 fights with the townspeople; and then the stealing 
 flowers out of all the gardens in Eugby for the Easter 
 show was abominable." 
 
 " Well, so it was," said Tom, looking down, " but we 
 fags couldn't help ourselves. But what has that to do 
 with the doctor's ruling?" 
 
 " A great deal, I think," said the master ; "what 
 brought island fagging to an end ? " 
 
 "Why, the Easter speeches were put off till mid- 
 summer," said Tom, " and the sixth had the gymnastic 
 poles put up here." 
 
 " Well, and who changed the time of the speeches, 
 and put the idea of gymnastic poles into the heads of 
 their worships, the sixth form ? " said the master. 
 
 "The doctor, I suppose," said Tom. "I never 
 thought of that."
 
 338 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 " Of course you didn't," said the master, " or else, 
 fag as you were, you would have shouted with the 
 whole school against putting do\vn old customs. And 
 that's the way that all the doctor's reforms have been 
 carried out when he has been left to himself quietly 
 and naturally, putting a good thing in the place of a 
 bad, and letting the bad die out ; no wavering and no 
 hurry the best thing that could be done for the time 
 being, and patience for the rest." 
 
 " Just Tom's own way," chimed in Arthur, nudg- 
 ing Tom with his elbow, "driving a nail where it 
 will go;" to which allusion Tom answered by a 
 sly kick. 
 
 " Exactly so," said the master, innocent of the al- 
 lusion and by -play. 
 
 Meantime Jack Raggles, with his sleeves tucked up 
 above his great, brown elbows, scorning pads and 
 gloves, has presented himself at the wicket ; and hav- 
 ing run one for a forward drive of Johnson's, is about 
 to receive his first ball. There are only twenty-four 
 runs to make, and four wickets to go down ; a winning 
 match if they play decently steady. The ball is a 
 very swift one, and rises fast, catching Jack on the 
 outside of the thigh, and bounding away as if from 
 india-rubber, while they run two for a leg-bye amid 
 great applause, and shouts from Jack's man} 7 admirers. 
 The next ball is a beautifully-pitched ball for the outer 
 stump, which the reckless and unfeeling Jack catches 
 hold of and hits right round to leg for five, while the 
 applause becomes deafening : only seventeen runs to 
 get with four wickets the game is all but ours! 
 
 It is " over " now, and Jack walks swaggering about 
 his wicket, with the bat over his shoulder, while Mr. 
 Aislabie holds a short parley with his men. Then the
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 cover-point hitter, that cunning man, goes on to bowl 
 slow twisters. Jack waves his hand triumphantly to- 
 ward the tent, as much as to sa,y, " See if 1 don't fin- 
 ish it all off now in three hits." 
 
 Alas, m v son Jack ! the enemy is too old for thee. 
 The first ball of the over Jack steps out and meets, 
 swiping with all his force. If he had only allowed for 
 the twist ! but he hasn't, and so the ball goes spinning 
 up straight into the air, as if it would never come 
 down again. Away runs Jack, shouting and trusting 
 to the chapter of accidents, but the bowler runs 
 steadily under it, judging every spin, and calling out 
 " I have it." catches it, and playfully pitches it on to 
 the back of the stalwart Jack, who is departing with a 
 rueful countenance. 
 
 " I knew how it would be," says Tom, rising. 
 " Come along, the game's getting very serious." 
 
 So they leave the island and go to the tent, and after 
 deep consultation Arthur is sent in, and goes off to the 
 wicket with a last exhortation from Tom to play steady 
 and keep his bat straight. To the suggestions that 
 Winter is the best bat left, Tom only replies, " Arthur 
 is the steadiest, and Johnson will make the runs if the 
 wicket is only kept up." 
 
 " I am surprised to see Arthur in the eleven," said 
 the master, as they stood together in front of the 
 dense crowd, which was now closing in round the 
 gound. 
 
 " Well, I'm not quite sure that he ought to be in for 
 his play," said Tom, " but I couldn't help putting him 
 in. It will do him so much good, and you can't think 
 what I owe him." 
 
 The master smiled. The clock strikes eight, and the 
 whole field becomes fevered with excitement. Arthur,
 
 340 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 after two narrow escapes, scores one ; and Johnson 
 gets the ball. The bowling and fielding are superb, 
 and Johnson's batting worthy the occasion. He makes 
 here a two, and there a one, managing to keep the ball 
 to himself, and Arthur backs up and runs perfectly : 
 onl} r eleven runs to make now, and the crowd scarcely 
 breathe. At last Arthur gets the ball again, and ac- 
 tually drives it forward for two, and feels prouder 
 than when he got the three best prizes, at hear- 
 ing Tom's shout of joy, " Well played, well played, 
 young 'un ! " 
 
 But the next ball is too much for a young hand, 
 and his bails fly different ways. Nine runs to make, 
 and too wickets to go down it is too much for 
 human nerves. 
 
 Before Winter can get in, the omnibus which is to 
 take the Lord's men to the train pulls up at the side of 
 the close, and Mr. Aislabie and Tom consult, and give 
 out that the stumps will be drawn after the next over. 
 And so ends the great match. Winter and Johnson 
 carry out their bats, and, it being a one day's match, 
 the Lord's men are declared the winners, they having 
 scored the most in the first innings. 
 
 But such a defeat is a victory : so think Tom and all 
 the school eleven, as they accompany their conquerors 
 to the omnibus, and send them off with three ringing 
 cheers, after Mr. Aislabie has shaken hands all round, 
 saying to Tom, " I must compliment you, sir, on your 
 eleven, and I hope we shall have you fora member if 
 you come up to town." 
 
 As Tom and the rest of the eleven were turning back 
 into the close, and everybody was beginning to cry out 
 for another country-dance, encouraged by the success 
 of the night before, the young master, who was just
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 341 
 
 leaving the close, stopped him, and asked him to 
 come up to tea at half-past eight, adding, " I won't 
 keep you more than half-an-hour, and ask Arthur to 
 come up too." 
 
 " I'll come up with you directly, if you'll let me," 
 said Tom, " for I feel rather melancholy, and not 
 quite up to the country dance and supper with the 
 rest." 
 
 "Do by all means," said the master; "I'll wait here 
 for you." 
 
 So Tom went off to get his boots and things from 
 the tent, to tell Arthur of the invitation, and to speak 
 to his second in command about stopping the dancing 
 and shutting up the close as soon as it grew dusk. 
 Arthur promised to follow as soon as he had had a dance. 
 So Tom handed his things over to the man in charge 
 of the tent, and walked quietly away to the gate where 
 the master was waiting, and the two took their way 
 together up the Hillmorton road. 
 
 Of course they found the master's house locked up, 
 and all the servants away in the close, about this time 
 no doubt footing it away on the grass with extreme 
 delight to themselves, and in utter oblivion of the un- 
 fortunate bachelor their master, whose one enjoyment 
 in the shape of meals was his " dish of tea " (as our 
 grandmothers called it) in the evening; and the phrase 
 was apt in his case, for he always poured his out into 
 the saucer before drinking. Great was the good man's 
 horror at finding himself shut out of his own house. 
 Had he been alone, he would have treated it as a 
 matter of course, and would have strolled contentedly 
 up and down his gravel-walk until some one came 
 home; but he was hurt at the stain on his character of 
 host, especially as the guest was a pupil. However, the
 
 34.2 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 guest seemed to think it a great joke, and presently as 
 they poked about round the house, mounted a wall, 
 from which he could reach a passage window : the 
 window as it turned out, was not bolted, so in an- 
 other minute Tom was in the house and down at the 
 front door, which he opened from inside. The master 
 chuckled grimly at this burglarious entry, and insisted 
 on leaving the hall-door and two of the front windows 
 open, to frighten the truants on their return ; and then 
 the two set about foraging for tea, in which operation 
 the master was much at fault, having the faintest 
 possible idea of where to find anything, and being 
 moreover w r ondrously short-sighted ; but Tom by a 
 sort of instinct knew the right cupboards in the kitchen 
 and pantry, and soon managed to place on the snug- 
 gery table better materials for a meal than had ap- 
 peared there probably during the reign of his tutor, 
 who was then and there initiated, among other things, 
 into the excellence of that mysterious condiment, a 
 dripping cake. The cake was newly baked, and all 
 rich and flaky; Tom had found it reposing in the 
 cook's private cupboard, awaiting her return ; and as a 
 warning to her, they finished it to the last crumb. 
 The kettle sang away merrily on the hob of the snug- 
 gery, for, notwithstanding the time of year, they 
 lighted a fire, throwing both the windows wide open 
 at the same time. The heap of books and papers were 
 pushed away to the other end of the table, and the 
 great solitary engraving of King's College chapel over 
 the mantelpiece looked less stiff than usual, as they 
 settled themselves down in the twilight to the serious 
 drinking of tea. 
 
 After some talk on the match, and other indifferent 
 subjects, the conversation came naturally back to Tom's
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DATS. 343 
 
 approaching departure, over which he began again to 
 make his moan. 
 
 "Well, we shall all miss you quite as much as you 
 will miss us," said the master. " You are the Nestor 
 of the school now, are you not ? " 
 
 " Yes, ever since East left," answered Tom. 
 
 " By-the-bye, have you heard from him ? " 
 
 "Yes, I had a letter in February, just before he 
 started for India to join his regiment." 
 
 " He will make a capital officer." 
 
 "Aye, won't he!" said Tom, brightening; "no fel- 
 low could handle boys better, and I suppose soldiers 
 are very like boys. And he'll never tell them to go 
 where he won't go himself. No mistake about that 
 a braver fellow never walked." 
 
 " His year in the sixth will have taught him a good 
 deal that will be useful to him now." 
 
 " So it will," said Tom, staring into the fire. " Poor 
 dear Harry," he went on, " how well I remember the 
 day we were put out of the twenty. How he rose to 
 the situation, and burned his cigar-cases, and gave away 
 his pistols, and pondered on the constitutional authority 
 of the sixth and his new duties to the doctor, and the 
 fifth form, and the fags. Aye, and no fellow ever acted 
 up to them better, though he was always a people's 
 man for the fags, and against contsituted authorities. 
 He couldn't help that, you know. I'm sure the doc- 
 tor must have liked him ? " said Tom, looking up in- 
 quiringly. 
 
 " The doctor sees the good in every one. and appre- 
 ciates it," said the master, dogmatically ; " but I hope 
 East will get a good colonel. He won't do if he can't 
 respect those above him. How long it took him, even 
 here, to learn the lesson of obeying."
 
 344 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 "Well, I wish I were alongside of him," said Tom. 
 " If I can't be at Rugby, I want to be at work in the 
 world, and not dawdling away three years at Oxford." 
 
 " What do you mean by ' at work in the world ? ' : 
 said the master, pausing, with his lips close to his sau- 
 cerful of tea, and peering at Tom. over it. 
 
 "Well, I mean real work; one's profession; what- 
 ever one will have really to do, and make one's living 
 by. I want to be doing some real good, feeling that I 
 am not only at play in the world," answered Tom, 
 rather puzzled to find out himself what he really did 
 mean. 
 
 "You are mixing up two very different things in, 
 your head, I think, Brown," said the master, putting 
 down the empty saucer, "and you ought to get clear 
 about them. You talk of 'working to get your living,' 
 and ' doing some real good in the world,' in the same 
 breath. Now, you may be getting a very good living 
 in a profession, and yet doing no good at all in the 
 world, but quite the contrary, at the same time. Keep 
 the latter before you as your only object, and you will 
 be right, whether you make a living or not ; but if you 
 dwell on the other, you'll very likely drop into mere 
 money-making, and let the world take care of itself 
 for good or evil. Don't be in a hurry about finding 
 your work in the world for yourself ; you are not old 
 enough to judge for yourself yet, but just look about 
 you in the place you find yourself in, and try to make 
 things a little better and honester there. You'll find 
 plenty to keep your hand in at Oxford, or wherever 
 else you go. And don't be led away to think this part 
 of the world important, and that unimportant. Every 
 corner of the world is important. No man knows 
 whether this part or that is most so, but every man,
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 345 
 
 may do some honest work in his own corner." And 
 then the good man went on to talk wisely to Tom of 
 the sort of work which he might take up as an under- 
 graduate ; and warned him of the prevalent university 
 sins, and explained to him the many and great differ- 
 ences between university and school life ; till the twi- 
 light changed into darkness, and they heard the truant 
 servants stealing in by the back entrance. 
 
 "I wonder where Arthur can be," said Tom at last 
 looking at his watch : " why it's nearly half-past nine 
 already." 
 
 " Oh, he is comfortably at supper with the eleven, 
 forgetful of his oldest friends,'* said the master. "Noth- 
 ing has given me greater pleasure," he went on, 
 " than your friendship for him ; it has been the making 
 of you both." 
 
 " Of me, at any rate," answers Tom ; " I should 
 never have been here now but for him. It was the 
 luckiest chance in the world that sent him to Rugby, 
 and made him my chum." 
 
 "Why do you talk of lucky chances?" said the 
 master ; " I don't know that there are any such things 
 in the world ; at any rate there was neither luck nor 
 chance in that matter." 
 
 Tom looked at him inquiringly, and he went on. 
 " Do you remember when the doctor lectured you and 
 East at the end of one half-year, when you were 
 in the shell, and had been getting into all sorts of 
 scrapes ? " 
 
 " Yes, well enough," said Tom ; " it was a half- 
 year before Arthur came." 
 
 " Exactly so," answered the master. " Now, I was 
 with him a few minutes afterward, and he was in great 
 distress about you two. And, after some talk, we both
 
 346 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 agreed that you in particular wanted some object in 
 the school beyond games and mischief; for it was 
 quite clear that you never would make the regular 
 school work your first object. And so the doctor, at 
 the beginning of the next half-year, looked out the 
 best of the new boys, and separated you and East, and 
 put the young boy into your study, in the hope that 
 when you had somebody to lean on you, you would 
 begin to stand a little steadier yourself, and get manli- 
 ness and thoughtfulness. And I can assure you he has 
 watched the experiment ever since with great satis- 
 faction. Ah ! not one of you boys will ever know the 
 anxiety you have given him, or the care with which 
 he has watched over every step in your school lives." 
 
 Up to this time, Tom had never wholly given in to 
 or understood the doctor. At first he had thoroughly 
 feared him. For some years, as I have tried to show, 
 he had learned to regard him with love and respect, 
 and to think him a very great and wise and good man. 
 But, as regarded his own position in the school, of 
 which he was no little proud, Tom had no idea of giv- 
 ing any one credit for it but himself; and, truth to tell, 
 was a very self-conceited young gentleman on the 
 subject. He was wont to boast that he had fought 
 his own way fairly up the school, and had never made 
 up to, or been taken up by any big fellow or master, 
 and that it was now quite a different place from what 
 it was when he first came. And, indeed, though he 
 didn't actually boast of it, yet in his secret soul he did 
 to a great extent believe, that the great reform in the 
 school had been owing quite as much to himself as to 
 any one else. Arthur, he acknowledged, had done 
 him good,, and taught him a good deal : so had other 
 boys in different ways, but they had not had the same
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 34? 
 
 means of influence on the school in general ; and as for 
 the doctor, why, he was a splendid master, but every 
 one knew that masters could do very little out of 
 school hours. In short, he felt on terms of equality 
 with his chief, so far as the social state of the school 
 was concerned, and thought that the doctor would 
 find it no easy matter to get on without him. More- 
 over, his school Toryism was still strong, and he looked 
 still with some jealousy on the doctor, as somewhat of 
 a fanatic in the matter of change ; and thought it very 
 desirable for the school that he should have some wise 
 person (such as himself) to look sharply after vested 
 school-rights, and see that nothing was done to the 
 injury of the republic without due protest. 
 
 It was a new light to him to find, that, besides 
 teaching the sixth, and governing and guiding the 
 whole school, editing classics, and writing histories, 
 the great head-master had found time in those busy 
 years to watch over the career even of him, Tom 
 Brown, and his particular friends and, no doubt, of 
 fifty other boys at the same time ; and all this without 
 taking the least credit to himself, or seeming to know 
 or let any one else know, that he ever thought particu- 
 larly of any boys at all. 
 
 However the doctor's victory was complete from 
 that moment over Tom Brown at any rate. He gave 
 way at all points, and the enemy marched right over 
 him, cavalry, infantry, and artillery, the land trans- 
 port corps, and the camp followers. It had taken 
 eight long years to do it, but now it was done 
 thoroughly, and there wasn't a corner of him left 
 which didn't believe in the doctor. Had he returned 
 to school again, and the doctor begun the half-year 
 by abolishing fagging, and foot-ball, and the Saturday
 
 348 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 half-holiday, or all or any of the most cherished school 
 institutions, Tom would have supported him with the 
 blindest faith. And so, after a half confession of 
 his previous shortcomings, and sorrowful adieus to his 
 tutor, from whom he received two beautifully bound 
 volumes of the doctor's sermons, as a parting present 
 he marched down to the school-house, a hero worshiper, 
 who would have satisfied the soul of Thomas Carlyle 
 himself. 
 
 There he found the eleven at high jinks after sup- 
 per, Jack Raggles shouting comic songs, and perform- 
 ing feats of strength; and was greeted by a chorus 
 of mingled remonstrance at his desertion, and joy at 
 his reappearance. And falling in with the humor of 
 the evening, was soon as great a boy as all the rest ; 
 and at ten o'clock was chaired round the quadrangle, 
 on one of the hall benches, borne aloft by the eleven, 
 shouting in chorus : "For he's a jolly good fellow," 
 while old Thomas, in a melting mood, and the other 
 school-house servants, stood looking on. 
 
 And the next morning after breakfast he squared up 
 all the cricketing accounts, went round to his trades- 
 men and other acquaintance, and said his hearty good- 
 byes, and by twelve o'clock was in the train, and away 
 for London, no longer a school-boy ; and divided in his 
 thoughts bet\veen hero-worship, honest regrets over 
 the long stage of his life which was now slipping out 
 of sight behind him, and hopes and resolves for the 
 next stage, upon which he was entering with all the 
 confidence of a young traveler.
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 319 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 " Strange friend, past, present, and to be; 
 Loved deeplier. darklier understood; 
 Behold, I dream a dream of good, 
 And mingle all the world with thee." 
 
 TENNYSON. 
 
 IN the summer of 1842, our hero stopped once again 
 at the well-known station : and leaving his bag and 
 fishing rod with a porter, walked slowly and sadly up 
 toward the town. It was now July. He had rushed 
 away from Oxford the moment that term was over, 
 for a fishing ramble in Scotland with two college 
 friends, and had been for three weeks living on oatcake, 
 mutton-hams, and whiskey, in the wildest parts of 
 Skye. They had descended one sultry evening on the 
 little inn at Kyle Rhea ferry, and while Tom and an- 
 other of the party put their tackle together and began 
 exploring the stream for a sea-trout for supper, the 
 third strolled into the house to arrange for their enter- 
 tainment. Presently he came out in a loose blouse and 
 slippers, a short pipe in his mouth, and an old news- 
 paper in his hand, and threw himself on the heathery 
 scrub which met the shingle, within easy hail of the 
 fishermen. There he lay, the picture of free-and-easy, 
 loafing, hand-to-mouth young England, " improving his 
 dind," as he shouted to them, by the perusal of the
 
 350 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 fortnight-old weekly paper, soiled with the marks of 
 toddy-glasses and tobacco-ashes, the legacy of the last 
 traveler, which he had hunted out from the kitchen of 
 the little hostelry ; and being a youth of a communica- 
 tive turn of mind, began imparting the contents to the 
 fishermen as he went on. 
 
 "What a bother they are making about these 
 wretched corn-laws ; here's three or four columns full 
 of nothing but sliding-scales and fixed duties. Hang 
 this tobacco, it's always going out ! Ah, here's some- 
 thing better a splendid match between Kent and Eng- 
 land, Brown ! Kent winning by three wickets. Felix 
 fifty-six runs without a chance, and not out ! " 
 
 Tom, intent on a fish which had risen at him twice, 
 answered only with a grunt. 
 
 "Anything about the Goodwood^" called out the 
 third man. 
 
 " Rory-o More drawn. Butterfly colt amiss," shouted 
 the student. 
 
 " Just my luck," grumbled the inquirer, jerking his 
 flies off the water, and throwing again with a heavy 
 sullen splash, and frightening Tom's fish. 
 
 " I say, can't you throw lighter over there ? we 
 ain't fishing for grampuses," shouted Tom across the 
 stream. 
 
 " Hullo, Brown ! here's something for you," called 
 out the reading man next moment. " Why, your old 
 master, Arnold of Rugby, is dead." 
 
 Tom's hand stopped half-way in his cast, and his 
 line and flies went all tangling round and round his 
 rod ; you might have knocked him over with a feather. 
 Neither of his companions took any notice of him, 
 luckily ; and with a violent effort he set to work 
 mechanically to disentangle his line. He felt com-
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 351 
 
 pletely carried off his moral and intellectual legs, as if 
 he had lost his standing-point in the invisible world. 
 Besides which, the deep loving loyalty which he felt 
 for his old leader made the shock intensely painful. It 
 was the first great wrench of . his life, the first gap 
 which the angel Death had made in his circle, and he 
 felt numbed, and beaten down and spiritless. Well, 
 well ! I believe it was good for him and for many 
 others in like case ; who had to learn by that loss, that 
 the soul of man cannot stand or lean upon any human 
 prop, however strong, and wise, and good ; but that He 
 upon whom alone it can stand and lean will knock 
 away all such props in His own wise and merciful way, 
 until there is no ground or stay left but Himself, the 
 Eock of Ages, upon whom alone a sure foundation for 
 every soul of man is laid. 
 
 As he wearily labored at his line, the thought struck 
 him, " It may all be false, a mere newspaper lie," and 
 he strode up to the recumbent smoker. 
 
 " Let me look at the paper," said he. 
 
 " Nothing else in it," answered the other, handing it 
 up to him listlessly. " Hullo, Brown ! what's the 
 matter, old fellow ain't you well ? " 
 
 "Where is it?" said Tom, turning over the leaves, 
 his hands trembling, and his eyes swimming, so that 
 he could not read. 
 
 "What? What are you looking for?" said his 
 friend, jumping up and looking over his shoulder. 
 
 " That about Arnold," said Tom. 
 
 " Oh, here," said the other, putting his finger on the 
 paragraph. Tom read it over and over again ; there 
 could be no mistake of identity, though the account 
 was short enough. 
 
 " Thank you," said he at last, dropping the paper.
 
 352 TOM UROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 " I shall go for a walk : don't you and Herbert wait 
 supper for me." And away he strode, up over the 
 moor at the back of the house, to be alone, and master 
 his grief if possible. 
 
 His friend looked after him, sympathizing and won- 
 dering, and knocking the ashes out of his pipe, walked 
 over to Herbert. After a short parley, they walked 
 together up to the house. 
 
 " I'm afraid that confounded newspaper has spoiled 
 Brown's fun for this trip." 
 
 " How odd that he should be so fond of his old 
 master," said Herbert. Yet they also were both public- 
 school men. 
 
 The two, however, notwithstanding Tom's prohibi- 
 tion, waited supper for him, and had everything ready 
 when he came back some half-an-hour afterward. But 
 he could not join in their cheerful talk, and the party 
 was soon silent, notwithstanding the efforts of all three. 
 One thing only had Tom resolved, and that was, that 
 he couldn't stay in Scotland any longer ; he felt an 
 irresistible longing to get to Rugby, and then home, 
 and soon broke it to the others, who had too much tact 
 to oppose. 
 
 So by daylight the next morning he was marching 
 through Ross-shire, and in the evening hit the Cale- 
 donian canal, took the next steamer, and traveled as 
 fast as boat and railway could carry him to the Rugby 
 station. 
 
 As he walked up to the town, he felt shy and 
 afraid of being seen, and took the back streets; why, 
 he didn't know, but he followed his instincts. At 
 the school-gates he made a dead pause; there was 
 not a soul in the quadrangle all was lonely, and 
 silent, and sad. So with another effort he strode
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 353 
 
 through the quadrangle, and into the school-house 
 offices. 
 
 He found the little matron in her room in deep 
 mourning ; shook her hand, tried to talk, and moved 
 nervously about. She was evidently thinking of 
 the same subject as he, but he couldn't begin talk- 
 ing. 
 
 " Where shall I find Thomas ? " said he at last get- 
 ting desperate. 
 
 " In the servants' hall, I think, sir. But won't you 
 take anything?" said the matron, looking rather dis- 
 appointed. 
 
 " No, thank you," said he, and strode off again to 
 find the old verger, who was sitting in his little den as 
 of old, puzzling over hieroglyphics. 
 
 He looked up through his spectacles, as Tom seized 
 his hand and wrung it. 
 
 " Ah ! you've heard all about it, sir, I see," said 
 he. 
 
 Tom nodded, and then sat down on the shoe-board, 
 while the old man told his tale, and wiped his specta- 
 cles, and fairly flowed over with quaint, homely, honest 
 sorrow. 
 
 By the time he had done, Tom felt much better. 
 
 " Where is he buried, Thomas? " said he at last. 
 
 "Under the altar in the chapel, sir," answered 
 Thomas. " You'd like to have the key, I dare say." 
 
 " Thank you, Thomas. Yes, I should very much." 
 And the old man fumbled among his bunch, and then 
 got up, as though he would go with him ; but after a 
 few steps stopped short, and said, " Perhaps you'd like 
 to go by yourself, sir ? " 
 
 Tom nodded, and the bunch of keys was handed 
 to hira ? with an injunction to be sure and lock the
 
 354 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 door after him, and bring them back before eight 
 o'clock. 
 
 He walked quickly through the quadrangle and out 
 into the close. The longing which had been upon him 
 and driven him thus far, like the gad-fly in the Greek 
 legends, giving him no rest in mind or body, seemed all 
 of a sudden not to be satisfied, but to shrivel up, and 
 pall. " Why should I go on ? It's no use," he 
 thought, and threw himself at full length on the turf, 
 and looked vaguely and listlessly at all the well-known 
 objects. There were a few of the town boys playing 
 cricket, their wicket pitched on the best piece in the 
 middle of the big-side ground, a sin about equal to 
 sacrilege in the eyes of a captain of the eleven. He 
 was very nearly getting up to go and send them off. 
 " Pshaw ! they won't remember me. They've more 
 right there than I," he muttered. And the thought 
 that his scepter had departed, and his mark was wear- 
 ing out, came home to him for the first time, and bit- 
 terly enough. He was lying on the very spot where 
 the fights came off; where he himself had fought six 
 years ago his first and last battle. He conjured up 
 the scene till he could almost hear the shouts of the 
 ring, and East's whisper in his ear ; and looking across 
 the close to the doctor's private door, half expected to 
 see it open, and the tall figure in cap and gown come 
 striding under the elm-trees toward him. 
 
 No, no! that sight could never be seen again. 
 There was no flag flying on the round tower! the 
 school-house windows were all shuttered up : and when 
 the flag went up again, and the shutters came down, 
 it would be to welcome a stranger. All that was left 
 on earth of him whom he had honored, was lying cold 
 and still under the chapel floor. He would go in
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 355 
 
 and see the place once more, and then leave it once 
 for all. New men and new methods might do for 
 other people; let those who would, worship the ris- 
 ing star ; he, at least, would be faithful to the sun 
 which had set. And so he got up and walked to the 
 chapel door and unlocked it, fancying himself the only 
 mourner in all the broad land, and feeding on his own 
 selfish sorrow. 
 
 He passed through the vestibule, and then paused 
 for a moment to glance over the empty benches. His 
 heart was still proud and high, and he walked up to 
 the seat which he had last occupied as a sixth-form 
 boy, and sat himself down there to collect his 
 thoughts. 
 
 And, truth to tell, they needed collecting and setting 
 in order not a little. The memories of eight years 
 were all dancing through his brain, and carrying him 
 about whither they would ; while beneath them all, his 
 heart was throbbing with the dull sense of a loss that 
 could never be made up to him. The rays of the even- 
 ing sun came solemnly through the painted windows 
 above his head, and fell in gorgeous colors on the op- 
 posite wall, and the perfect stillness soothed his spirit 
 by little and little. And he turned to the pulpit, and 
 looked at it, and then, leaning forward with his head 
 on his bands, groaned aloud. " If he could only have 
 seen the doctor again for one five minutes ; have told 
 him all that was in his heart, what he owed to him, 
 how he loved and reverenced him, and would by God's 
 help follow his steps in life and death, he could have 
 borne it all without a murmur. But that he should 
 have gone away forever without knowing it all, was 
 too much to bear. But am I sure that he does not 
 know it all?" the thought made him start "may he
 
 356 TOM BROAVN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 
 
 not even now be near me, in this very chapel ? If he 
 be, am I sorrowing as he would have me sorrow as I 
 should wish to have sorrowed when I shall meet him 
 again ? " 
 
 He raised himself up and looked round ; and after 
 a minute rose and walked humbly down to the lowest 
 bench, and sat down on the very seat which he had oc- 
 cupied on his first Sunday at Rugby. And then the 
 old memories rushed back again, but softened and sub- 
 dued, and soothing him as he let himself be carried 
 away by them. And he looked up at the great painted 
 window above the altar, and remembered how when a 
 little boy he used to try not to look through it at the 
 elm-trees and the rooks, before the painted glass came 
 and the subscription for the painted glass, and the 
 letter he wrote home for money to give to it. And 
 there, down below, was the very name of the boy who 
 sat on his right hand on that first day, scratched rudely 
 in the oak paneling. 
 
 And then came the thought of all his old school- 
 fellows ; and form after form of boys, nobler, and 
 braver, and purer than he, rose up and seemed to 
 rebuke him. Could he not think of them, and what 
 they had felt and were feeling, they who had honored 
 and loved from the first, the man whom he had taken 
 years to know and love ? Could he not think of those 
 yet dearer to him who was gone, who bore his name 
 and shared his blood, and were now without a husband 
 or a father? Then the grief which he began to share 
 with others became gentle and holy, and he rose up 
 once more, and walked up the steps to the altar ; and 
 while the tears flowed freely down his cheeks, knelt 
 down humbly and hopefully, to lay down there his 
 share of a burden which had proved itself too heavy 
 for him to bear in his own strength.
 
 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL DAYS. 35? 
 
 Here let us leave him where better could we leave 
 him, than at the altar, before which he had first caught 
 a glimpse of the glory of his birthright, and felt the 
 drawing of the bond which links all living souls to- 
 gether in one brotherhood at the grave beneath the 
 altar of him, who had opened his eyes to see that 
 glory, and softened his heart till it could feel that 
 bond? 
 
 And let us not be hard on him, if at that moment 
 his soul is fuller of the tomb and him who lies there, 
 than of the altar and Him of whom it speaks. Such 
 stages have to be gone through, I believe, by all young 
 and brave souls, who must win their way through 
 hero-worship, to the worship of Him who is the King 
 and Lord of heroes. For it is only through our mys- 
 terious human relationships, through the love and 
 tenderness and purity of mothers, and sisters, and 
 wives, through the strength and courage and wisdom 
 of fathers, and brothers, and teachers, that we can 
 come to the knowledge of Him, in whom alone the 
 love, and the tenderness, and the purity, and the 
 strength, and the courage, and the wisdom of all these 
 dwell forever and ever in perfect fullness. 
 
 THE END.
 
 UfiMUf