11 Southern Branch of the University of California Los Angeles Form L I '} f ( PR M8t This book is DUE on the last date stamped below DEC ^ ^S ANGfcL£S. CALIF. / 1 1 ^/.^^Y^- J' (iY^, ;, (( K •THERE 's TWO ON 'EM, OUT AND OUT RUNNERS THEY BE' (Page 92) Tom Browns School^Days By an Old Boy (Thomas Hughes ) Edited by H.C.Bradby, B.A. <.Asststant,^asteir atSiugby School Illustrated by Hu^h Thomson Ginn and Company Boston - New York — Chicago - London Atlanta -Dallas - Columbus -" San Francisco 72424 . .,.*.. .•t« Cr\t^-i ••,« • • ' • •• •«« • •• • . • , * « I t < I < f • /•.•' . • ■ ' I ■..,•, • .*.tc<#m;>*ri *Jimcs. -n^,,,,,^ 'OLD DOBBIN TOILED SLOWLY UP THE HILL' 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 [51] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS boughs ; and then the Httle white thatched home and patch of enclosed ground of Farmer Ives, lying cradled in the dingle, with the gay gorse common rising behind and on both sides ; while in front, after 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 track over the common 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- grey old man, with a bushy eyebrow and strong aquiline 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 provisions 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 towards the cottage. A big old lurcher got up slowly from the door-stone, stretch- ing 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 cum to pay 'ee a visit. I 've a been long minded to do 't for old sake's sake, only I vinds I dwon't get about [52J THE FARMER'S COTTAGE now as I'd used 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 his ailments without further direct application, '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 better class of peasantry in general, A snug chimney corner 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 crockeryware 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 volumes 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 phials 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 Avhich he did much honour. 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 [53] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS 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 had on the knuckles of his hand, and which the family doc- tor had been trying his skill on without success, 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 cau- tioning Tom not to meddle 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 socia- bly 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 pigeons 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 were just ready to go, and old Dobbin was harnessed, that Benjy broached the subject of his rheu- matism 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 [54] EARLY COMPANIONS put another notched stick into his other pocket, for the cure of his own ailments. The physician shook his head, but nevertheless produced a bottle and handed it to Benjy with instructions for use, ' Not as 't '11 do 'ee much good — leastways, 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 '11 cure old folks like you and I o' th' rhumatis.' ' Wot be that then, farmer ? ' inquired Benjy. * Churchyard mould, ' said the old iron-grey 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 acquaint- ance with many of the village boys of his own age. There was Job Rudkin, 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 first time Tom went to their cottage with his mother. Job was not indoors, but he entered soon after, and stood with both hands in his pockets staring at Tom. Widow Rudkin, 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 her- self longer, burst out with, 'Job! Job! where 's thy cap?' [55] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS * What ! beant 'ee on ma' head, mother ? ' rephed Job, slowly extricating one hand from a pocket and feeling for the article in question ; which he found on his head 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 abput cheerfully, undertaking messages and little helpful odds and ends for every one, which, however, poor Jacob managed always hopelessly to embrangle. Every- thing 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 quickest and best boy in the parish. He might be a year older than Tom, 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 school- master could teach him faster than that worthy at all liked. He was a boy to be proud of, with his curly brown hair, keen grey eye, straight active 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 himself if he likes 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 [56] TOM AND THE VILLAGE BOYS the powers which be were ordained of God, and that loyalty and steadfast obedience were men's first duties. Whether it were in consequence or in spite of his political creed, I do not mean to give an opinion, though I have one ; but certain it is, that he held therewith divers social principles not generally supposed to be true blue in colour. Foremost 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 harmless, whether they be blue, red, or green. As a neces- sary corollary to this belief. Squire Brown held further that it did n't matter a straw whether his son associated with lords' sons or ploughmen's sons, provided they were brave and honest. He himself had played football and gone birds'- nesting with the farmers whom he met at vestry and the labourers who tilled 'their fields, and so had his father and grandfather with their progenitors. So he encouraged Tom in his intimacy with the boys of the village, and for^varded 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 amongst 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 grey 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 [57] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL- DAYS to the road, over which towered a great elm-tree ; on the third stood the village carpenter and wheelwright's large open shop, and his house and the schoolmaster's, with long low eaves under which the swallows built by scores. 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 speculating on the possi- bility 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 occupied with one of his pet adzes, the edge of which was fast van- ishing 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 carpen- tering, and still more the further proceedings of the wheel- wright, 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 punishment, and kept him in perpetual anger. More- over, his presence about the school door began to incense [58] TOM'S FOES the master, as the boys in that neighbourhood 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 heads together, resolved to acquaint the Squire with Tom's afternoon occu- pations ; but in order to do it with effect, determined to take him captive and lead him away to judgement 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 fine 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 reconnoitred 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 cor- respondence with the invaders. Tom, waxing bold, kept putting his head into the school and making faces at the master when his back was turned. Poor Jacob, not in the least comprehending the situation, and in high glee at find- ing 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. [59] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS 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 dragging him back by his smock-frock, and the master made at them, scattering forms and boys in his career. Even now they might have escaped, but that in the porch, barring retreat, appeared the crafty wheelwright, 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 speculating on the result. The Squire was very angry at first, but the interview, 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 boys 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 for ever 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 w^omen 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 integuments altogether, sooner than have had [60] G5«Ct^U5>^-*'^nr^ 'POOR JACOB . . . STOOD THERE, LOOKING ROUND H I xM AND NODDING WITH A SEL F- A PPROVING SMILE' TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS 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 step which all real boys so long to make ; he had got amongst 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 w-ould catch the Shetland pony who was turned but in the field, and get two or three together on his back, and the little rogue, en- joying 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 [62] ^^^,^x..,.-v.A'^^:^,g I i)/A'4. ( (^ ,KV?tir>ii*!m. 'THE LITTLE ROGUE . . . WOULD . . . STOP SHORT AND SHOOT THEM ON TO THE TURF' TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS on at this pastime, but it had pecuHar 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 of the \''ale ; and all the boys knew the rules of it, and were more or less expert. But Job Rudkin 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 offence, 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 to his back on the turf, he felt that Harry knew more and could do more than he. Luckily, Harry's bright unconsciousness, and Tom's natural good temper, kept them from ever quarrelling ; 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 [64] NEIGHBOURHOOD RAMBLES 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 be met, and in a week from that time the boys were equal, save only the slight difference of strength in Harry's favour, which some extra ten months of age gave. Tom had often afterwards reason to be thankful for that early drilling, and above all for having mastered Harry Winburn's fall. Besides their home games, on Saturdays the boys would wander all over the neighbourhood ; 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 grey plover, gorgeous in his wedding feathers ; 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, amongst which rumour declared that a raven, last of his race, still lingered ; or to the sand-hills, in vain quest of rabbits ; and birds'-nesting, in the season, anywhere and everywhere. The few neighbours 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 w^hispering 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 [65] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS might mutter 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 boys, whom the best farmers' sons even would not play with. And the 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 neighbours, and so went on his own way ; and Tom and his younger brothers, as they grew up, went on playing with the village boys, without the idea of equality or inequality (except in wrestling, running, and climbing) ever entering their heads, as it does n'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 villages, 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 amongst the village schoolboys when Tom drove off with the Squire, one August morning, to meet the coach on liis 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 X'ale), screws, birds'-eggs, whip- cord, jews-harps, and other miscellaneous boys' wealth. Poor Jacob Doodle-calf, in floods of tears, had pressed upon him with spluttering 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 [66] FIRST SCHOOL order. He had given them all a great tea under the big elm in their playground, for which Madam Brown had sup- plied the biggest cake ever seen in our village ; and Tom was really as sorry to leave them as they to 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 parting with his mother better than could have been expected. 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, — aye, 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 England. 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 coming 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 playground, in the school, at meals — in fact, at all times and ever}^vhere, till they were fairly in bed at night. Now the theory of private schools is (or was) constant supervision out of school ; therein differing fundamentally from that of public schools. [67] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL- DAYS It may be right or wrong ; but if right, this supervision surely 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 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 education. Were I a private schoolmaster, I should say, let who will hear the boys 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 gentle- men, and very poorly educated, and were only driving their poor trade of usher to get such living as they could out of it. They were not bad men, but had little heart for their work, and of course were bent on making it as easy as possible. One of the methods by which they endeavoured to accomplish this was by encouraging tale-bearing, which had become a frightfullv common vice in the school in consequence, and had sapped all the foundations of school morality. Another was, by favouring grossly the biggest boys, u ho 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 labour he had, on the very eve- ning 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 [68] FIRST LETTER HOME 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, they were sadly put to it for means of sealing. Envelopes 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. At length Tom's friend, being of an ingenious turn of mind, suggested sealing with ink, and the letter was accord- ingly 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 afterwards 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 is n't sealed.' Poor Tom took the wax in silence and sealed his letter, with a huge lump rising in his throat during the process, and then ran away to a quiet corner of the playground, 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 forgetful 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 batter^^ Hitting in the face was a felony pun- ishable with flogging, other hitting only a misdemeanour — [69] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS 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, enclosing 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. These half-holiday walks were the great events of the week. The whole fifty boys started after dinner with one of the ushers for Mazeldown, which was distant some mile or so from the school. Hazcldown measured some three miles round, and in the neighbourhood 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 anywhere except on the down and into the woods, the village being especially prohibited, where huge bulls'-eyes and unctuous toffee 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 proceeded to assault the mound, advancing up on all sides under cover of a heavy fire of turfs, and then [70] THE AMUSEMENTS struggling 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, looking for the holes of humble-bees and mice, which 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 Hazeldown, for the first time, the beau- tiful little blue butterfly with golden spots on his wings, which he had never seen on his own downs, and dug out his first sand-martin's nest. This latter achievement resulted in a flogging, 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 per- suaded Tom to break bounds and visit the martin's bank. From whence it being only a step to the toffee 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 [71] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS 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 exploit having spread to the other rooms, and being discredited there, the young necromancer declared that the same won- der would appear in all the rooms in turn, which it accord- ingly 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 sud- den descent caught the performer in his night-shirt, with a box of phosphorus in his guilty hand. Lucifer-matches and all the present 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 did n'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 [72] TOM LEAVES HIS FIRST SCHOOL the master having himself slightly sickened of it, the whole of the boys were sent off at a day's notice to their respec- tive homes. The Squire was not quite so pleased as Master Tom to see that young gentleman's brown merry face appear at home, some two months before the proper time, for Christ- mas holidays : and so after putting 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. [73] '-if-'v':^^'i'. '^■^h'--^ o /r! n A^ ^^ W'vi/"-,.,, ■ l*«^A^ ../fe*.. Jf,^v5^(i' ^-^'^*'*'*'^ Chaptfer IV ' Let the steam-pot hiss till it 'j hot. Give me the speed of the Tantivy trot. ' R. E. E. Warburton, 'Coaching Song'' ^xiivj^-A 'V?^^^' ^^^' ^^"^^ ^*^ S^^ "P' ^^ y°^ please. t^*"' a" i Tallv-ho coach for Leicester '11 be round Tally 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 carr)'ing off his shoes to clean. [74] THE PEACOCK, ISLINGTON Tom and his father had arrived in town from Berkshire the day before, and finding, on inquiry, that the Birming- ham 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 postchaise — 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 Savage, where they had been put down by the Star, just at dusk, that he might have gone roving about those endless, mysterious, gas-lit streets, which, with their glare and hum and moving crowds, excited him so that he could n'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 would n't be there till the evening, all other plans melted away ; his one absorbing aim being to become a public- school boy as fast as possible, and six hours sooner or later seeming 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 unfeigned joy the paternal order at the bar, of steaks and oyster-sauce for supper in half an hour, and seen his father seated cosily 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 passing and repassing, and had frater- nized with the boots and ostler, from whom he ascertained [75] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS that the Tally-ho was a tiptop goer, ten miles an hour including stoppages, 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 for ever 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 was nearly nine o'clock, and that the Tally-ho left at three, sent the little fellow off 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, 'remember 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 '11 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 would n't have your mother and sister hear, and you '11 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 had n't been for the recent stipulation. [76] THE SQUIRE'S MEDITATION As it was, he only squeezed his father's hand, and looked bravely up and said, ' I '11 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 '11 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 he 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 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 assist- ing 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 Trichinopoli 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 expected a talk on the prospects and doings, agricultural and social, of the whole county, when he carried the Squire. To condense the Squire's meditation, it was somewhat as follows : ' I won't tell him to read his Bible, and love and [77] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS 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 '11 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 he '11 only turn out a brave, helpful, truth-telling English- man, 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, carr^-ing his hat-box, coat, and comforter in his hand ; and there he found his father nursing a bright fire, and a cup of hot coffee and a hard biscuit on the table. ' Now then, Tom, give us your things here, and drink this ; there 's nothing like starting warm, old fellow.' 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 [78] 'THE TALLY-HO' the breast of his coat, the horn sounds, Boots looks in and says, ' Tally-ho, sir ; ' and they hear the ring and the rattle of the four fast trotters and the town-made drag, as it dashes up to the Peacock. ' Anything for us, Bob I ' 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, opening the hind boot and shooting in the parcels after examining them by the lamps. ' Here, shove the portmanteau up a-top — I '11 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 anchor, and finishes his buttonings and other preparations for facing the three hours before dawn ; no joke for those who minded cold, on a fast coach in November, 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 [79] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS you 're much more comfortable travellers, for I see every one of you with his rug or plaid, and other dodges for pre- serving 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 old dark ride. First there was the conscious- ness 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 steaming 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 singing-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 enjoying 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 oat-sack over his knees. The darkness has driven him inwards, and he [80] A NOVEMBER RIDE has gone over his Httle past Hfe, and thought of all his do- ings 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 in the holidays. He is chock-full of hope and life, notwith- standing the cold, and kicks his heels against the back board, and would like to sing, only he does n'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 gleaming 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 '11 give you a drop of something to keep the cold out.' Tom finds a difhculty in jumping, or indeed in finding 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 [8i] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS 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-tootle-too goes the horn, and away they are again, five- and-thirty miles on their road (nearly half-way to Rugby, thinks Tom), and the prospect 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, w^hose face is about the colour of the tails of his old pink, as he exchanges greetings wdth coach- man 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 mile an hour, with a mile to spare behind if necessary. And here comes breakfast. •Twenty minutes here, gentlemen,' says the coachman, 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, [82] RARE TACKLE, THAT, SIR, OF A COLD MORNING," SAYS THE COACHMAN' TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS 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 mantelpiece, 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 a tray of hot viands ; kidneys and a 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 sideboard, they were only put on for show and to give us an appetite. And now fall on, gentlemen all. It is a w'ell-known sporting-house, and the breakfasts are famous. Two or three men in pink, on their way to the meet, drop in, and are very jovial and sharp-set, as, indeed, 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 approvingly, 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, [84] 'AND HERE COMES IN THE STOUT HEAD-WAITER' TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS 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 puffing a fat cigar which the sportsman has given him. Guard emerges from the tap, where he prefers breakfasting, licking round a tough-looking doubtful cheroot, which you might tie round your finger, and three whiffs of which would knock any one else out of time. 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, drawing 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 hedgerows again as the town clock strikes eight. The sun shines almost warmlv, and breakfast has oiled all springs and loosened all tongues. Tom is encouraged by a remark or two of the guard's between the puffs of his [86] GUARD DISCOURSES ON RUGBY 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 streets, nor no light- ing. 'Mazin' 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 college 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 could n'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 werr)- 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 Monday 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. [87] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS *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, what wi' 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 carryin' of you now, than a coach-load.' ' 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 'cm 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. ]Sob, seeing as 't was 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 nmaway, and 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 were n't all of our side, sir, by a long way. We was going [88] BATTLE WITH THE PATS so fast, and they was so took aback, that they did n't take what was up till we was half-way up the line. Then 't was, "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 had had it very sharp act'ly runs right at the 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 of 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 pound ten to pay for damage to paint, which they subscribed for there and then, and give Bob and me a extra half-sovereign each ; but I would n't go down that line again not for twenty half-sovereigns.' And the guard shook his head slowly, and got up and blew 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, [89J TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL- DAYS 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 we 're never going to carry no more pea-shooters, unless they promises not to fire where there 's a line of Irish chaps a stone-breaking.' The guard stopped and pulled away at his cheroot, regarding Tom benignantly 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 grey-haired yeo- man chap, a-jogging along quite quiet. He looks up at the coach, and just then a pea hits him on the nose, and some catches his cob behind and makes him dance up on his hind-legs. I see'd the old boy's face flush and look plaguy awkward, 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 miles. 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 could n'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 they 'd fight it out, and have to be carried. Just as 'twas gettin' serious, and the old boy and the mob was going to pull 'em off the [90] BLOW-HARD AND HIS YARNS coach, one little fellow jumps up and says, " Here — I '11 stay — I'm only going three miles further. My father's name 's Davis, he 's known about here, and I '11 go before the magistrate with this gentleman." " What ! be thee parson Davis's son.?" says the old boy. "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 gentlemanly for all the rest, saying as they all had been plaguy vexed from the first, but did n't like to ax his pardon till then, 'cause they felt they had n'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 perform- ances of the boys on the roads for the last twenty years. Off the road he could n't go ; the exploit must have been connected with horses or vehicles to hang in the old fellow's head. Tom tried 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 the road bowled easily away ; for old Blow-hard (as the boys called him) was a dry old file, [91] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS with much kindness and humour, 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 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 getting drowned, for one who '11 stay on level ground, or in his depth, or play quoits or bowls. The guard had just finished an account of a desperate 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 linch-pins out of the wheels of the gigs, and was moralizing 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 morning, 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 runners they be. They comes 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 [92] BLOW-HARD AND HIS YARNS and round-shouldered, labouring 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 runner. Now many coachmen as drives a first-rate 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 great- est day he should ever spend, and did n't alter his opinion for many a long year — if he has yet. [93] Ctepter V ^ughy and ^QoiSaff Foot and eye opposed In dubious strife.^ Scott ND so here 's Rugby, sir, at last, and you '11 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 t2agle ; the wheelers in a spanking trot, and leaders cantering, in a style which would not have disgraced 'Cherry Bob,' 'ramping, stamp- ing, tearing, swearing Billy Harwood,' or any other of the old coaching heroes. [94] RUGBY Tom's heart beat quick as he passed the great school field or close, with its noble elms, in which several games y i,-=Kt Z_-vg- -^^-r' Yj/^ F" i. -» ■ — -J — ■.■» y; THE SCHOOL FROM THE CLOSE Vi/Ai*- at football were going on, and tried to take in at once the long line of grey buildings, beginning with the chapel, and ending with the School-house, the residence of the head [95] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS master, where the great flag was lazily waving from the highest round tower. And he began already to be proud of being a Rugby boy, as he passed the school gates, with the oriel window above, and saw the boys standing there, looking as if the town belonged to them, and nodding in a familiar manner to the coachman, as if any one of 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 patronizing 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 aggravating and hard to bear, but could n'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 blackguard ; and in the end arranges with one of them, nicknamed Cooey, to carry Tom's luggage up to the School-house for sixpence. [96] ^^^--^^^5; ^^Jx^ '23Y?U)V^'»^hr^^v7 'AND AWAY SWAGGERS THE YOUNG POTENTATE' TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS ' And hcark '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,' says Cooey, touching his hat, with a leer and a wink at his companions. 'Hullo tho',' says East, pulling up, and taking another look at Tom, ' this '11 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 young Master East, and he looked unutterable things. Tom thought his cap a very knowing affair, but confessed 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 did n'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 ; Xixon 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. [98] ^55^^W>tAsvT. ■SHE GAVE ME HALF A SOV THIS HALF, AND PERHAPS'LL DOUBLE IT NEXT' TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS 'You see,' said his friend, as they strolled up towards 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 straightforward, and holds his head up, he gets on. Now you '11 do very well as to rig, all but that cap. You see I'm doing the hand- some 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 '11 double it next, if I keep in her good books.' ■ There 's nothing for candour like a lower-school boy, and East was a genuine specimen — frank, hearty, and good-natured, well satisfied with himself and his position, and chock-full of life and spirits, and all the P.ugby 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 understand 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 ? Where 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 windows (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 [loo] I SCHOOL-HOUSE HALL TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS the matron might unpack his Hnen, 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 coolest new boy in the house ; and East, indignant at the accusa- tion of newness, marched Tom off into the quadrangle, and began showing him the schools, 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 afterwards, before calling- over, we '11 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 thereabouts, with two great tables running the whole length, and two large fire-places at the side, with blazing 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 w^as for the first time in a Rugby boy's citadel. He had n't been prepared for separate studies, and w-as 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 could n't be called light, as there were bars and a grating to the window ; which little precautions [102] EAST'S STUDY 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 comfortable to look at, Tom thought. The space under the window at the further end was occupied by a 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 wain- scoted 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 Ayles- bury steeplechase ; Amy Robsart, the reigning Waverley beauty of the day ; and Tom Crib in a posture of defence, which did no credit to the science of that hero, if truly [i°3] ONE OF THE STUDIES AT THE PRESENT DAY TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS represented. Over the door were a row of hat-pegs, and on each side bookcases with cupboards at the bottom ; shelves and cupboards being filled indiscriminately with school- books, a cup or two, a mousetrap, and brass candlesticks, leather straps, a fustian 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 Windsor 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 must go naked as we came into the world. When shall we learn that he who multiplieth possessions multiplieth 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 '11 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.' [104] TOM'S FIRST RUGBY DINNER 'But there 's a big fire out in the passage,' said Tom. * Precious Httle good we get out of that tho',' 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 praepostor (who sat at the end to keep order there), and East a few paces higher. And now Tom for the first time saw his future schoolfellows in a body. In they came, some hot and ruddy from football 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 with 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 housekeeper. 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 TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS one another, or stealing one another's bread, or shooting pellets, or digging their forks through the tablecloth. How- ever, notwithstanding his curiosity, he managed to make 'THE LONG, DARK PASSAGES, . . . UPON WHICH THE STUDIES OPENED' 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 ques- tioned by such of his neighbours as were curious as to his birth, parentage, education, and other like matters. East, who evidently enjoyed his new dignity of patron and Mentor, proposed having a look at the close, which Tom, [io6] EAST ACTS AS MENTOR athirst for knowledge, gladly assented to, and they went out through the quadrangle, and past the big fives court, into the great playground. .•Ts- ^ ■■*'■■' '«*, THE I S L A N D I\I O A T '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 callings-over. [107] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS 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 great matches are played. And there 's the island in the furthest corner ; you '11 know that well enough next half, when there 's island fagging. I say, it 's horrid cold, let's have a run across,' and away went East, Tom close behind him. East was evidently putting his best foot fore- most, 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 work in his very best style. Right across the close they went, each doing all he knew, and there wasn't a yard between 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 bad scud, not by no means. Well, I'm as warm as a toast now.' ' But why do you wear white trousers in November ? ' said Tom. He had been struck by this peculiarity 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 Brooke 's going to let me play in quarters. That 's more than he '11 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 School- house side, and the best kick and charger in Rugby.' [io8] THE LAWS OF FOOTBALL ' 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 can 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 chapter of accidents, and followed East across the level ground till they came to a sort of gigantic gallows of two poles eight- een feet high, fixed upright in the ground some fourteen feet apart, with a cross-bar running 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, across there, right opposite, under the Doctor'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 it 's between the posts. You '11 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 fel- lows play, and that 's where the scrummages are mostly.' Tom's respect increased as he struggled to make out his friend's technicalities, and the other set to work to explain the mysteries of 'off your side,' 'drop-kicks,' 'punts,' [109] TOM i;r()\\x*s school days 'places,' and the other intricacies of the <;reat science of football. ' Hut how do you keep the ball between the fjoals ? ' said he ; •I can't see whv it nii«;ht n't ^o rii,dit down to the chapel.' V •^•, ...I.*. TH E THREE TREES 'Why, that's out of play,' answered P2ast. ' Vou see this gravel walk running down all along this side of the playing- 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 [no] THE PUNT-ABOUT touches it, has to knock it straight out amongst the players- up, who make two hnes with a space between them, every fellow going on his own side. Ain't there just fine scrum- mages 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 towards 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 w-ell. He had n't long to \vonder, 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 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 crowed 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 boys swept into the big school to answer to their names. [Ill] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS ' I may come in, may n't I ? ' said Tom, catching East by the arm and longing to feel one of them. ' Yes, come along, nobody '11 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. THE BIG SCHOOL and up to the further end, where that illustrious form, the lower fourth, which had the honour 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 marching up and down the mid- dle of the school with their canes, calling out ' Silence, [112] CALLING-OVER 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 praepostors. Then the praepostor who stands by the master calls 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 forwards 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 carte blanche to the School- house fags to go Xvhere they like : ' They trust to our honour,' 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 praepostors dash in every now and then, and generally chastise some quiet, timid boy who is equally afraid of acorns and canes, while the principal performers get dexterously out of the way ; and so calling-over rolls TU.M BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS on somehow, much Hke the big world, punishments lighting on wrong shoulders, and matters going generally in a queer, a SCHOOL-HOUSE ENTRANCE AT THE PRESENT DAY 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 prae- postors of the week come out, sweeping the last remnant ["4] MARSHALLING FOR FOOTBALL of the School fags —who had been loafing about the corners by the fives court, in 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 authorities ; and the whole mass of boys moves up towards the two goals, dividing as they go into three bodies. That little band on the left, consisting of from fifteen to twenty boys, Tom amongst 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 mov- ing to the island goal are the School boys in a like predica- ment. The great mass in the middle are the players-up, both sides mingled together; they are hanging their jackets, and all who mean real work their hats, waistcoats, neck- handkerchiefs, 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 colour and tasti- ness 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 house has its own uniform of cap and jersey, of some lively colour : 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, bareheaded 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 ["5] TOM ]{R()\VN'S SCHOOL-DAYS quite small, are going to play that huge mass opposite ? Indeed I do, gentlemen ; they 're going to try at any rate, and won't make such a bad fight of it either, mark my word ; for has n't old lirooke won the toss with his lucky halfpenny, and got choice of goals and kick-off ? The new ball you may see lie there cjuite by itself, in the middle, pointing towards 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. Vou 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 heaxy brigade). These again play in several bodies ; there is young Brooke and the bulldogs — mark them well — they are the 'fighting brigade,' 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 Russia, but wisely and bravely ruling over willing and worshipping subjects, a true football 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. [ii6] THE KICK-OFF The School side is not organized in the same way. The goal-keepers are all in lumps, anyhow and nohow ; you can't distinguish between the players-up and the boys in quar- ters, 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 towards 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 re- turned, and they meet it and drive it back amongst 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, gentlemen, 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 foremost School boys, who are heading TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS the rush, and sends it back with a good drop-kick well into the enemy's countr)'. 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 out- set, 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 docs 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, the 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 understand 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 bulldogs, bursting through the outsiders ; in they go, straight to the heart of the scrum- mage, 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 struggle 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 [1x8] A SCRUMMAGE himself still behind the ball, and driving it furiously when he gets the 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, was n't that just a splendid scrummage by the three trees ! ' But he knows you, and so do we. You don't really want 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 all 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 out- side, mark them — they are most useful players, the dodgers ; who seize on the ball the moment it rolls out from amongst the chargers, and away with it across to the opposite goal ; they seldom go into the scrummage, but must have m.ore coolness than the chargers : as endless as are boys' charac- ters, so are their ways of facing or not facing a scrummage at football. Three-quarters of an hour are gone ; first winds are fail- ing, and weight and numbers beginning to tell. Yard by yard the School-house have been driven back, contesting every inch of ground. The bulldogs are the colour of mother earth from shoulder to ankle, except young Brooke, who has a marvellous 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 [119] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS Doctor and some of his family are there looking on, and seem as anxious as 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 bulldogs after it, and in another minute there is 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 l^rooke and the bulldogs 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 fleetest foot in Rugby. There they go straight for the School goal-posts, quarters scattering before them. One after another the bulldogs go down, but young Brooke holds on. ' He is down.' No! a long stag- ger, but 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 [120] YOUNG BROOKE'S RUSH the School-house kick a goal with the ball touched in such a good place. Old Brooke of course will kick it out, but who shall catch and place it ? Call Crab Jones. Here he comes, sauntering along with a straw in his mouth, the queerest, coolest fish in Rugby : if he were tumbled into the moon this minute, he would just pick himself up with- out taking his hands out of his pockets or turning a hair. But it is a moment when the boldest charger's heart beats quick. Old Brooke stands with the ball under his arm motioning the School back ; he will not kick-out till they are all in goal, behind the posts ; they are all edging for- wards, 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 unquestioned goal ; and a shout of real genuine joy rings out from the [I2l] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL- DAYS School-house players-up, and a faint echo 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 cr)' : 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 trium- phant of them, amongst whom is Tom, a School-house boy of two hours' standing, getting 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 when- ever the ball has been near their goal. So he holds him by his side, and instructs him in the science of touching. At this moment Griffith, the itinerant vendor of oranges from Mill 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 God- dess 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-house goal, and then to drive it [122] THE LAST HALF-HOUR in by sheer strength and weight. They mean heavy play and no mistake, and so old Brooke sees ; and places Crab Jones in quarters just before the goal, with four or five picked players, 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 comes 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 amongst 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 honour, and lots of bottled 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 bulldogs, 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 towards the sides with the unerring drop-kick. This is worth living for ; the whole sum of schoolboy existence gathered up into one straining, struggling half-hour, a half-hour worth a year of common life. The quarter to five has struck, and the play slackens for a minute before goal ; but there is Crew, the artful dodger, driving the ball in behind our goal, on the island side, [ 123] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS where our quarters are weakest. Is there no one to meet him ? Yes ! look at Httle East ! the ball is just at equal dis- tances 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 shoulder, as if he would bur)- 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 defence of their own goal, on they come across the level big-side ground, the ball well down amongst 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 bulldogs rush in for the last time ; they are hurled over or carried 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, ' Look out in goal.' Crab Jones catches it for a moment ; but before he can kick, 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. TOM'S FIRST EXPLOIT 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 stand 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 praepostor, 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, give him air,' he says ; and then feeling his limbs, adds, ' No bones broken. How do 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. [125] / ^/> 'some Foocfwe f)ad. ' (Shakespeare ^3 JTOTOS aSv6. uf}eocrituS,ScL. Ctopter VI After tf-?e A\atch (?^^^^^ns tup: boys scattered away from the CfiJ^Khl ground, and East, leaning on Tom's arm, and limping along, was beginning to con- sider 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 [126] HARROWELL'S honour, 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 '11 have a penn'orth each for tea ; come along, or they '11 all be gone.' Tom's new purse and money burnt in his pocket ; he wondered, as they toddled through the quadrangle and along the street, whether East would be insulted if he sug- gested further extravagance, as he had not sufficient -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 allow- ances were all stopped this morning for broken windows, so I have n't got a penny. I 've got a tick at Sally's, of course ; but then I hate running it high, you see, towards the end of the half, 'cause one has to shell out for it all directly one comes 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 denying 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 '11 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.' [127] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS '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 parlour, half shop, and bought a pound of most particular sausages ; East talking 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 neighbours' cottages, up the yard at the back of the house. Stumps, her husband, a short easy- going shoemaker, with a beery humorous eye and ponder- ous calves, who lived mostly on his wife's earnings, stood in a corner of the room, exchanging shots of the roughest description of repartee with every boy in turn. ' Stumps, you lout, you've had too much beer again to-day.' ''T was n't of your paying for, then.' — * Stumps's 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 was 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 [128] Aif^'^ LAWRENCE SHERIFFE STREET, RUGBY TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS 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 ; East on the way recounting the life and adventures of Stumps, who was a character. Amongst his other small avocations, 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 carry- ing 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 tor- mentors 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 fifteen in number, had tea in the lower-fifth school, and were pre- sided 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 did n't add to this some further luxury, such as baked potatoes, a herring, sprats, or something 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 '11 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 simi- larly employed, toasted his face and the sausages at the [130] IN TOM BROWN'S DAY THIS WAS THE LOWER FIFTH TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS same time before 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 neighbours, and thought he had never tasted such good potatoes or seen such jolly boys. They on their parts waived all ceremony, and pegged away at the sausages and potatoes, and remembering Tom's per- formance 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 a neighbouring basin. ' Why, the last six Saturdays 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 '11 see soon enough. We begin directly after supper, and sing till bed-time. It ain't such good fun now tho' as in the summer half, 'cause then we sing in the little fives' court, under the library, you know. We take out 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 [132] SHOWED THE HACKS THEY HAD RECEIVED' TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS 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 down to my study.' 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 bottom passage, and his table was in requisition for the singing. Supper came in due course at seven o'clock, consisting of bread and cheese and beer, which was all saved for the singing ; and directly afterwards 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 boys 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 manu- script 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-honoured ceremony was gone through. Each new boy was placed on the table in turn, and made to sing a solo, under the penalty of drink- ing a large mug of salt and water if he resisted or broke down. However, the new boys all sing like nightingales to-night, and the salt water is not in requisition ; Tom, V^ his part, performing the old West-country song of [134] 'EACH NEW BOY WAS . . . MADE TO SING A SOLO' TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS ' The Leather 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 tables, standing round outside. The glasses and mugs are filled, and then the fugleman 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 decidedly, but the general effect isn't bad. And then follow the 'British Grenadiers,' 'Billy Taylor,' 'The Siege of Seringapatam,' 'Three Jolly Postboys,' and other vociferous songs in rapid succession, including the ' Chesapeake and Shannon,' a song lately introduced in honour of old Brooke ; and when they come to the words — ' Brave Broke he waved his sword, crying, " Now, my lads, aboard. And we '11 stop their playing Yankee-doodle-dandy oh ! " ' 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, [136] BROOKE'S HONOURS 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 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 drinking 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 big-side football, their leader on this glorious day — Pater Brooke ! ' And away goes the pounding and cheering again, becom- ing 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 forwards. No action, no tricks of oratory ; plain, strong, and straight, like his play. * Gentlemen of the School-house ! I 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 '11 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 '11 all listen to me — (loud cheers of 'that we will') — for I'm going to talk seriously. You're [137] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS bound to listen to me, for what 's the use of calhng 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 one of the hardest and fiercest day's play I can remember 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. I never thought to see anything again of old Crab there, except little pieces, when I saw him tumbled over by it — (laughter and shout- ing, 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 would n'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 '11 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 beat- ing the School, whatever else we care about. I know I'd sooner win two School-house matches running than get the Balliol scholarship any day — (frantic cheers). [^38] BROOKE DISCOURSETH 'Now I'm as proud of the house as any one. I beHeve it's the best hou&e 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 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 generally — 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-house, 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 '11 give you a word of advice in time, for I should n't like to see any of you [ 139] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS getting sacked. " Down with the doctor " 's easier said than done. You '11 find him pretty tight on his perch, I take it, and an awkwardish customer to handle in that line. Besides now, what customs has he put down ? There was the good old custom of taking the linchpins out 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. Hut, 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 mangey harriers and beagles belonging to the house, I '11 allow, and had had them for years, and that the Doctor put them down, liut 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 '11 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 '11 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 football, 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 [140] I BROOKE STANDS UP FOR THE DOCTOR 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 /\.V yV*-\"Mir^^ ^fc® ; M I •- A'l^U^?^^™ !^r- I'. ifei^ "«- P^jt^W^virM l^^^4 '■• J- -tS^^S' — _,'^- ..,_^ THE SCHOOL AND THE NEW CHAPEL FROM THE CLOSE, AT THE PRESENT DAY 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 ; and if one can [141] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS 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 should n'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 honours. 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 luigland ! ' My dear boys, old and young, you who have belonged, 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 you '11 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 did n't believe in, and stand up for his own house and his own school .-* You know you would n't. Then don't object to my cracking up the old School-house, Rugby. Haven't I a right to do it, when I'm taking all- the trouble of writing this true history for all of your benefits .'' If you ain't satisfied, go and write the histor\' 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 '11 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 for them all, and car- ried even the sporting and drinking interests off their legs [142] SCHOOL IDOLATRIES into rapturous applause, and (it is to be hoped) resolutions to lead a new life and remember old Brooke's words ; which, however, they did n'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 schoolboys, at least as the schoolboys of our genera- tion. We magnified into heroes every boy who had left, and looked upon him with awe and reverence, when he revisited the place a year or so afterwards, 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 masters, 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 regarded the infringe- ment 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 that there was a strong man over them, who would have things his own way ; and had n't yet learned that he was a wise and loving man also. His personal character and influence had not [143] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS 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 was 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 licence and misrule, and was still employed in the necessary 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 recorded. Half-past nine struck in the middle of the performance of ' Auld Lang Syne,' a most obstreperous proceeding; dur- ing which there was an immense amount of standing with one foot on the table, knocking mugs together and shaking hands, without which accompaniments 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 candle- sticks, 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 has n't struck.' 'Here, Bill, drink some cocktail,' 'Sing us a song, old boy,' ' Don't you wish you may get the table ? ' Bill drank the proffered 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.' [144] 'AULD LANG SVNK' TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS 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, proceeded to pull up the great windows, and let in a clear fresh rush of night air, which made the candles flicker and 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, llie lower-passage 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 per- formance of 'God save the King.' His Majesty King William IV then reigned over us, a monarch deservedly popular amongst the boys addicted to melody, to whom he was chiefly known from the beginning of that excellent, if slightly \ailgar, song in which they much delighted — ' Come, neighbours 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 a sort of ballad, which I take to have been written by some Irish loyalist. I have forgotten all but the chorus, which ran — ' God save our good King William, be his name for ever blest. He 's the father of all his people, and the guardian of all the rest.' [146] PRAYERS 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 refine- ment of the times, have adopted or written other songs equally hearty, but more civilized, in her honour. 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 could n'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, wondering at the brilliancy of their waistcoats, and speculating 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 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 [x47] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS 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 '11 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 '11 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 upstairs. ' 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 evi- dently 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 noise- lessly 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. '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 pulling off his boots ; Tom followed his example. A noise and steps are ' heard in the passage, the door [148] TOSSING opens, and in rush four or five great fifth-form boys, headed by Flashman in his glory. Tom and East slept in the further 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 up 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 I '11 kill you.' ' Oh, please, Flashman, please, Walker, don't toss me ! I '11 fag for you, I '11 do anything, only don't toss me.' 'You be hanged,' said Flashman, lugging the wretched boy along, ' 't won't hurt you, you ! Come along, boys, here he is.' 'I say, Flashey,' sung out another of the big boys, 'drop that ; you heard what old Pater Brooke said to-night. I '11 be hanged if we '11 toss any one against their will — no more bullying. Let 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 underneath the other beds, till he got under that of the sixth-form 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 '11 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.' [149] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS '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 '11 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 sullen, and some frightened to death. At Walker's suggestion all who were afraid were let off, in honour of Pater Brooke's speech. Then a dozen big boys seized hold of a blanket dragged from one of the beds. ' In with Scud, quick, 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 ceiling. 'Now, boys, with a will,' cried W^alker, 'once, twice, thrice, and away ! ' This time he went clean up, and kept 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 'WHO-O-OP, " HE ROARED, PULLING AWAY AT THE LEG OF A SMALL BOY' TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS still, by East's advice, and didn't dislike the 'once, twice, thrice ' ; but the ' away ' was n't so pleasant. They were in good wind now, and sent him slap up to the ceiling first j6 i& -^-^ ^-T" ^"^^'^'^' v^^v^-^Jtl^ir^^ga^^v^s's^. Chapter IX * Wherein I \jpeak\ of most disastrous chances. Of mo'-jing accidents by flood and field. Of hair-breadth ^scapes.'' Shakespeare HEN 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 led him to expect. Flashman's brutality had disgusted even most of his intimate friends, and his cowardice had once more been made plain to the House ; for Diggs had en- countered 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 favour again. Two or three of the boys who had helped to roast Tom came up and begged his pardon, [211] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL- DAYS 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 did n't keep. Tom kept Harkaway all to himself, 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 their study, two new bats and a cricket-ball, all the best that could be got, and a supper of sausages, kidneys, and beef-steak pies to all the rebels. Light come, light go ; they would n't have been comfortable with money in their pockets in the middle of the half. The embers of Flashman's wrath, however, were still smouldering, and burst out every now and then in sly blows and taunts, and they both felt that they had n't quite done with him yet. It was n't long, however, before the last act of that drama came, and with it, the end of bully- ing 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 rule-makers, [212] RULE-BREAKING which it would be rather bad pluck in them not to accept ; and then, again, in the lower parts of the school they had n'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 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 learnt 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 might n't have heard the scuffle [213] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL- DAYS caused by his coming. If a study was empty, Snooks pro- ceeded 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 together in whispers by the light of the fire, and splicing a favourite old fives-bat which had sprung. Presently a step came down the bottom passage ; they listened a moment, assured themselves that it was n't a praepostor, and then went on with their work, and the door swung open, and in walked Flashman. He did n't see Diggs, and thought it a good chance to keep his hand in ; and as the boys did n'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 '11 thrash you if you stay,' said Flashman savagely. ' I say, you two,' said E'ggs, from the end of the Hall, rousing up and resting himself on his elbow, ' you '11 never get rid of that fellow till you lick him. Go in at him, both of you — I '11 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 clenched fists and beating 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 [214] 'SO THK TWO AUVANCEU ON FLASH INI AN' TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS poor condition from his monstrous habits of stuffing and want of exercise. Coward as he was, however, Flashman could n'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 pummelling at all of him which they could reach. He hit out wildly and savagely, but the full force of his blows did n't tell, they were too near him. It was long odds, though, in point of strength, and in another minute Tom went spinning backwards over a form, and Flashman turned to demolish East, with a savage grin. But now Diggs jumped down from the table on which he had seated himself. 'Stop there,' shouted he, 'the round's over — half-minute time allowed.' ' What the is it to you ? ' faltered Flashman, who began to lose heart. ' Fm 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. [216] 'OVER THi:\- WENT ON TO THE FLOOR, FLASH MAN STRIKING HIS HEAP AGAINST A FORl\I' TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS 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. ' 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 '11 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 's broken too- — -your collar is covered with blood.' ' Is it, though ? ' said Tom, putting up his hand ; ' I did n't know it.' ' Well, mop it up, or you '11 have your jacket spoilt. And you have got a nasty eye. Scud ; you 'd better go and bathe it well in cold water.' [218] ACCOUNTS SQUARED WITHFLASHMAN ' Cheap enough too, if we 've done with our old friend Flashey,' said East, as they made off upstairs to bathe their wounds. They had done with Flashman in one sense, for he never laid finger on either of them again ; but whatever harm a spiteful heart and venomous tongue could do 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 general, with whom he as- sociated more or less, and they not at all. Flashman man- aged to get Tom and East into disfavour, 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 Flashman had been regaling himself on gin-punch, at Brownsover ; and having exceeded his usual limits, started home uproarious. He fell in with a friend or two coming back from bath- ing, 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 Flashman had already on board. The short result was that Flashey became beastly drunk ; they tried to get him along, but could n'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. [219] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS The evil that men, and boys too, do, hves 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 cheer- fully, could n't help feeling a small grudge against the first rebels. After all, their form had been defied — on just grounds, no doubt ; so just, indeed, that they had at once acknowledged the wrong, and remained passive in the strife : had they sided with Flashman and his set, the rebels must have given way at once. They could n't help, on the whole, being glad that they had so acted, and that the resis- tance 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. ' Confoundedly 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 un- righteous 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 respectable mass of the people whom he had delivered. They would n'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, [ 220 ] FATE OF LIBERATORS Garibaldi, Mazzini, and righteous causes which do not triumph in their hands ; men who have holes enough in their armour, 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, especially 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, how- ever wrong-headed or 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 with the masters and the fifth form, and with the sixth it was much the same. They saw the praepostors cowed by or joining with the fifth, and shirking their own duties ; so they did n'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 was cjuitc another to do the like for Snooks and Green, who had never faced a good scrummage at football, and could n'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 char- acter of sulky, unwilling fags. In the fifth-form room, [221] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS after supper, when such matters were often discussed and arranged, their names were for ever 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 hke to excuse him — will you swop ? ' * Who will you give me ? ' ' Well, let 's see, there 's W^illis, Johnson. — No, that won't do. Yes, I have it — there 's young East, I '11 give you him.' ' Don't you wish you may get it .-' ' replied Green. * I '11 tell you what I '11 do — I '11 give you two for Willis, if you like.' ' Who then .? ' asks Snooks. ' Hall and Brown.' ' Would n't have 'em at a gift.' ' Better than East, though ; for they ain't quite so sharp,' said Green, getting up and leaning his back against the mantel-piece — 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 had n't swept the carpet before. Well, when it was all finished, " Now, young gentleman," says I, "mind, I expect this to be done every [222] THE ISHMAELITES 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 I got out my cane. Up he came as cool as you please, with his hands in his pockets. " Did n't I tell you to shake my 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 youngster 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 did n't. Of course, I was at his mercv till the end of the half, and in his weeks my study was so frowsy, I could n'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 did n't appear again. When they 'd had time enough [223] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS to clean them three times over, I went out to look after them. They were n'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 candlesticks 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 circum- stances, partly from the faults of others, they found them- selves outlaws, ticket-of-leave men, or what you will in that line : in short, dangerous parties, 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 favour 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 could n'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 had n'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 amongst their own contemporaries, his eye, which was everywhere, was upon them. [224] LISTENING T(J JOHNSON, WHO WAS PLAYING THE FLUTE' TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS 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 standing 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 happened just about the time at which we have now arrived, 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 sprin- kling 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 pur- poses, 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 [226] MISFORTUNE THICKENS who were paid to attend daily through the summer to prevent accidents) that they could swim pretty decently, when they were allowed to go on to Anstey's, about one hundred 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's, 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 had a spring-board and two sets of steps : the others had one set of steps each, and were used indif- ferently 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 learnt to swim like fishes, were to be found there as regular as the clock through the summer, 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 allow- ing it for some time without interference, had ordered his keepers not to let the boys fish on his side ; the conse- quence of which had been that there had been first wran- glings 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 [227 ] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS the latter, and a fierce fight ensued thereon, had been up to the great school at calling-over to identify the delin- quents, 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 feeling, that the four praepostors 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 hornet's 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 pursued 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 espe- cially 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 swim- ming, 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 [228] CHAFFING A KEEPER or four others were bathing at Wratislaw's, and had, as a matter of course, been taking up and resetting night-lines. They had all left the water, and were sitting or standing about at their toilets, in all costumes from a shirt upwards, when they were aware of a man in a velveteen shooting-coat approaching from the other side. He was a new keeper, so they did n'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. And I tells 'ee I 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 miserable coarse fish or two and a small jack, ' would you like to smell 'em and see which bank they lived under ? ' ' I '11 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 catching 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 favourite School-house song — [229] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS ' 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 grey flies flickered 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 ephemerae ; 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 borrowed 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 [230] THE RETURN MATCH WITH VELVETEENS he made off hot-foot ; and forgetting landlords, keepers, solemn prohibitions of the Doctor, and everything else, pulled up his trousers, plunged across, and in three minutes was creeping along on all-fours towards the clump of willows. It is n't often that great chub, or any other coarse fish, are in earnest about anything, but just then they were thor- oughly 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. Noth- ing for it but 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 began gently shifting it to get it alongside him ; ' willow-trees don't throw out straight hickory shoots twelve feet long, 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. [231 ] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS * 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, unless 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. ' 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 measter ? Well, here 's luck. Now I tells 'ee to come down at once, and 't '11 be best for 'ee.' 'Thank 'ee, Velveteens, I'm very comfortable,' said Tom, shortening the rod in his hand, and preparing for battle. ' Werry well, please yourself, ' says the keeper, descend- ing, however, to the ground again, and taking his seat on the bank ; ' I bean't in no hurry, so you may take your time. I '11 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 quietly proceeded to take out his pipe, fill, [232] \, ^ 'NOW YOU COME DOWN THIS MINUTE TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS and light it, keeping an eye on Tom, who now sat dis- consolately 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 '11 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. '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 '11 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 lockirtg-up. As they passed the School-gates, the Tadpole 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 [234] VELVETEENS' REVENGE 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, who was a good-hearted fellow, and melted at Tom's evident distress, gave up his claim. Tom was flogged next morning, and a few days afterwards met Velveteens, 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 under the willow that may-fly season, and was never caught again by Velveteens. It was n'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, ' could n't we get those balls somehow ? ' ' Let 's try, anyhow.' So they reconnoitred 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 [235] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS there, scratching and cutting their names on the top of every tower ; and at last, having exhausted all other places, finished up with inscribing H, 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 set to make inquiry, discovers their names on the minute-hand, and reports accordingly ; 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 likelihood 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 disagreeable 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, [ -^36 ] MORE SCRAPES while he sends East and Tom, who are not his pupils, up to the Doctor ; who, on learning that they had been at prayers in the morning, flogs them soundly. The flogging did them no good at the time, for the in- justice of their captor was rankling in their minds ; but it was just 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 's no use delay- ing, so up they go to the study. There they find the Doctor, not angry, 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 wilful 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 influence. 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 wilfully break them will not be allowed [237] ^■^^'' "-^■^^^^^3 '^ik THE BIRCHING TURRET DOOR TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS to stay at the School, He 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 praepostor 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 afterwards 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 officially, and if I take any notice of it at all, I must publicly expel the boy. I 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.' 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 thrashing before the whole house.' The door closed on Holmes ; and the Doctor, in answer 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 [238] THE DOCTOR REIGNING 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 le\y 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 afterwards, 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 thoughtless, and full of spirits — but I can't help liking them. I think they are sound good fellows at the bottom.' 'I'm glad of it. I think so too. But they make me very uneasy. They are taking the lead a good deal amongst 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 character and manliness. In an- other year they may do great harm to all the younger boys.' 'Oh, I hope you won't send them away,' pleaded their master. [239] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS * 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 would n't get into so many scrapes without him.' 'Well,' said the Doctor, with something like a sigh, * I '11 think of it.' And they went on to talk of other subjects. [240] Vo one cfear fmxp In cfiverj tones, I "Dfia-t mer) mo-xj rLse on stepfiiTL^-storves Of ffteCr cfead sefhej to /^<^/ier f/?m^x.' c/ennysori ' 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, zvhile the cozvard stands aside. Doubting in his abject spirit, till his Lord is crucified.^ Lowell HE 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 all real boys are in when they first get back, however fond they may be of home. 'Well, Mrs, Wixie,' shouted one, seizing on the method- ical, active little, dark-eyed woman, who was busy stowing [241 ] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS 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 indifferently 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. ' 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 '11 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 upstairs, and I won't have you old boys in my room first nisht.' [ 242 ] ^t>' -fcjJKt!vu/»irvi HULLO, LOOK HERE, TO M M Y, . . . H E R E 'S FUN!' TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS ' Hurrah for the pickles ! Come along, Tommy ; come along, Smith. We shall find out who the young Count is, I '11 be bourid : I hope he '11 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 '11 come in a minute, East ; don't finish the pickles — ' ' Oh, Master Brown,' went on the little matron, 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 condi- tions 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 any one 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 bottled-beer cellar under [244] THE SADDLE IS PUT ON TOM his window, and making night-lines and sHngs, and plotting expeditions to Brownsover 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 Marryat'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 nick-name. The matron watched him for a moment, and saw what was passing in his mind, and so, like a wise negotiator, 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 '11 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 new 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 mc to say,' she added, 'that she should like you both to come up [245] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS 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 amongst the fags. He felt himself lifted on to a higher social and moral platform at once. Nevertheless, he could n't give up with- out a sigh the idea of the jolly supper in the housekeeper's room with East and the rest, and a rush round to all the studies of his friends afterwards, 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 pas- sages to the Doctor's private house with his young charge in tow, in monstrous good-humour 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. Aye, many is the brave heart now doing its work and bearing its load in country curacies, London chambers, under the Indian sun, and in Australian towns and clearings, 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 learnt there. [246] TEA WITH THE DOCTOR 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 had 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 did not notice them. The hostess, after a few kind words, which led the boys at once and insensibly to feel at their ease, and to begin talking to one another, left them with her own children while she finished 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 immediately 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 obliv- ious 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 Hke to see him. He wants some Rugby air, and cricket. And you must take him some good long walks, to Bilton Grange, and [247] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS Caldecott's Spinney, and show him what a Httle pretty country we have about here.' Tom wondered if the Doctor knew that his visits to Bil- ton 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 did n't the Doctor know ? And what a noble use he always made of it ! He almost resolved to abjure rook-pies and night-lines for ever. The tea 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 ever)^body 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 afterwards 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 did n't come to supper. You lost some- thing — that beef and pickles was no end good.' [248] ARTHUR'S DEBUT ' 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 look 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.' ' Can you sing } ' The poor boy was trembling and hesitating. Tom struck in — 'You be hanged. Tadpole. He '11 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 have n'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 cosy. But look here now, you must answer straight up when the fellows speak to you, and don't be afraid. If you 're afraid, you '11 get bullied. And don't you say you can sing ; and don't you ever talk about home, or your mother and sisters.' [249] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS 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 '11 call you homesick, or mamma's darling, 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 chattels, all new, and good enough for a fifth-form boy, and hardly thought of his friends outside till the prayer-bell rung. 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 upstairs 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 fireplace occupied by the sixth-form boy who was responsible 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 [250] A TRYING MOMENT quarter-past (at which time the old verger came round to put the candles out), except 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 whispers ; while the elder, amongst whom was Tom, sat chatting about on one another's beds, with their jackets and waistcoats off. Poor little Arthur was overwhelmed 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 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 '11 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 ablutions, 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 trying moment foj;^the poor little lonely boy ; however, this time he did n't ask Tom TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS what he might or might not do, but dropped on his knees l)y his bedside, as he had done every day from his child- hood, to open his heart to Him who heareth the cry and beareth the sorrows of the tender child, and the strong man in agony. Tom was sitting at the bottom of his bed unlacing his boots, so that his back was towards Arthur, and he did n'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 up a slipper, and shied it at the kneeling boy, calling him a snivelling 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 [252] LESSON NO. 1 I 'THE BOOT HE HAD JUST PULLED OFF FLEW STRAIGHT AT THE HEAD OF THE BULLY' some time his excitement, and the flood of memories which chased one another through his brain, kept him from think- ing or resolving. His head tlirobbed, his heart leapt, and he could hardly keep himself from springing out of bed and rushing about the room. Then the thought of his own [253] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS 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, before he laid his head on the pillow, from which he might never rise ; and he lay down gently and cried as if his heart would break. He was only fourteen years old. 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 weakness, had done that which he, brag- gart as he was, dared not do. The first dawn of comfort [254] TOM LEARNS HIS LESSON 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 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 [255] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS were from his inmost heart, a still small voice seemed to breathe forth the words of the publican, ' God be merciful to me a sinner ! ' He repeated them over and over, cling- ing to them as for his life, and rose from his knees com- forted and humbled, and ready to face the whole world. It was not needed : two other boys besides Arthur had already followed his example, and he went down to the great School with a glimmering of another lesson in his heart — the les- son that he who has conquered his own coward spirit has conquered the whole outward world ; and that other one which the old prophet learnt 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, how- ever 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 except the praepostor ; at any rate, every boy knew that he would try upon very slight provocation, and didn't choose to iTin 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 fellows tried it on ; in one instance or so, where the praepostor heard of it and interfered very decidedly, with [256] THE L I 1! R A R Y TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS 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 for ever. [258] s^ ChapferM QJWW ' And Heave7i' s rich instincts in him grezv As effortless as zcoodland nooks Send violets up and paint them blue. ' Lowell DO NOT mean to recount all the little troubles and annoyances which thronged upon Tom at the beginning of this half- year, in this 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 indispensable 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 [259] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS 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 questions 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 ever)'thing, 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 pro- voking habit of agreement, and was on the point of break- ing out a dozen times with a lecture upon the propriety of a fellow having a will of his own and speaking out ; but managed to restram himself by the thought that it might only frighten Arthur, and the remembrance of the lesson he had learnt 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 always beat at that game, and had presently to begin talking in despair, fearing lest Arthur might think he was vexed at something if he did n'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 him- self ; in which resolution he was much assisted 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. [260] EAST'S ADVICE '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 '11 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 '11 tell you what to do, Tommy. Go and get a nice large band-box made, and put him in with plenty of cotton-wool, and a pap-bottle, labelled "With care — this side up," and send him back to mamma.' ' 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 some- where in him. That 's the only thing after all that '11 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 method of invoking wisdom. He stared at the ground with a ludicrously puzzled 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 I could take things as you do — but I never can get [261] TOM r.ROWN'S SCIIOOT.-DAYS higher than a joke. Everything's a joke. If I was going to be flogged next minute, I should be in a blue funk, but I could n'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 addressed 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. He was one of the miserable little pretty white-handed, curly-headed boys, 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 to spoil them for every- thing * 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 did n'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 wTong sow by the ear. His captors slammed the great door of the hall, and East put his back against *A kind and wise critic, an old Rugbeian, notes here in the margin : The 'small friend system was 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. [262] AN EPISODE it, while Tom gave the prisoner a shake-up, took away his hst, and stood liim 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 '11 go and tell Jones this minute, and he '11 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 for little whippersnappers like you to be indulging in blas- phemy ; so you stop that, or you '11 get something you won't like.' ' Lll 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 blackguard, you 've got seven names down on your list besides ours, and five 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 '11 each of us give you such a thrashing as you '11 remember.' And Tom tore up the list and threw the pieces into the fire. [^63] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS 'And mind you, too,' said East, 'don't let me catch you again sneaking about the School-house, and picking up our fags. You have n'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 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 '11 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, would n'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 gentleman, and would get over his shyness all in good time ; which much com- forted our hero. He felt every day, too, the value of having [264] ^^fuyy^A SENT THE YOUNG GENTLEMAN ELYING INTO THE QUADRANGEE' TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL- DAYS 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 for, 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 a 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, 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 article 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 reading, [266] LESSON NO. 2 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 Number 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 Lm out.'*' 'Yes.' ' Well, I wish you 'd wait till afterwards, and then we 'd read together. But, Arthur, why does it make you cry .? ' 'Oh, it isn't that Lm 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 remember what he said about them. I can't remember 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 had n't encouraged him to do so, as his blundering school- boy reasoning made him think that Arthur would be soft- ened and less manly for thinking of home. But now he was fairly interested, and forgot all about chisels and bot- tled beer ; while with very little encouragement 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. [267] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS 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 fol- lowed 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 wander- ing 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 furniture 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, a fire, and the county yeomanry. There is no need here to dwell upon such 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, glorious 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 virtues [268] ARTHUR'S HOME and the appreciation of a genteel parish ; no fat Hving or stall, for which he never looked, and did n't care ; no sighs and praises of comfortable dowagers and well-got-up young women who worked him slippers, 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, nor looking on himself as a 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 mar- riage ; and the London world, to which she had belonged, pitied poor Fanny Evelyn when she married the young clergyman, 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 did n't seem to care. If her husband's living had been amongst green fields and near pleasant neighbours, she would have liked it better, that she never pretended to deny. But there they were : the air was n't bad, after all ; the people were very good sort of people, civil to you if you were civil to them, after [269] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS the first brush ; and they did n'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 treat- ing them just as they would have done people of their own rank. They did n't feel that they were doing anything 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 neighbourhood as tJie just man, the man to whom masters and men could go in their strikes, and all in their quarrels and difficulties, and by whom the right and true word would be said with- out fear or favour. 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 worshipped the very ground she trod on. 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 interest 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 resolved 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 [270] ARTHUR'S HOME 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 fac- tory 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 coffin, than by anything else. Two of them were chosen, who, with six other labour- ing men, his own fellow-workmen and friends, bore him to his grave — a man who had fought the Lord's fight even unto the death. The shops were closed and the factories shut that day in the parish, yet no master stopped the day's wages ; but for many a year afterwards 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 themselves. What has all this to do with our story } \\' ell, my dear boys, let a fellow go on his own way, or you won't get any- thing 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 sec how he, the timid weak boy, had points in him from which the bravest and strongest [271] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS 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 afterwards, Tom and Arthur, and by degrees East occa- sionally, and sometimes one, sometimes another, of their friends, read a chapter of the Bible together, and talked it over aftenvards. 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 began talking about Joseph as if he were a living 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 delight- ful history of real people, who might do right or WTong, just like any one who was walking about in Rugby — the Doctor, or the masters, or the sixth-form boys. But the astonish- ment 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 something 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 did n't happen till a year afterwards, and long after the events recorded in the next chapter of our story. [272] TOM IS STIFF-NECKED Arthur, Tom, and East were together one night, and read the story of Naaman coming to Ehsha 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 himself down in the house of Rimmon, because his effeminate scoundrel of a master did it, I wonder Elisha took the trouble to heal him. How he must have despised 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 say so.' •I don't care,' rejoined Tom; 'why did Naaman talk about bowing down, then, if he did n'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 is n't born to be a martyr.' [273] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS '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 '11 go.' 'And how often have I told you,' rejoined Tom, 'that it '11 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 is n'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,' ' Not you,' said East laughingly. ' I know him of old, Arthur, and you '11 find him out some day. There is n'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 rriy 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 careful to answer thee in this matter. If it de 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 //" nof, be it known unto thee, O king, that we will /wt serve thy gods, [274] \<\ TOM PLEDGES HIMSELF 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 } No Brown compromise to-night,' said East, looking at 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 did n't forget, and thought long and often over the conversation. [27s] C6aMQr HI Mrffiur ma^ejc u 3^ien^ * 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 [276] THE MADMAN BOUT six weeks after the beginning of the half, as Tom and Arthur were sit- ting 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 Madman, 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 '11 be bound he 's got some hedgehogs 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 has n't got them.' 'I like him all the better,' said Arthur. 'Well, he's great fun, I can tell you,' said Tom, throw- ing himself back on the sofa, and chuckling at the remem- brance. ' 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 [277] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL- DAYS 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 upstairs 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 Mad- man's den. Then that stopped all of a sudden, and the bolts went to like fun : the Madman knew East's step, and thought there was going to be a siege. « " It 's the Doctor, ^^lartin. 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 ]\Iadman 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 gunpowder like a sailor- boy's, and a stink fit to knock you down coming out. 'T was all the Doctor could do to stand his ground, and East and I, who were looking in under his arms, held our noses tight. The old magpie was standing on the window-sill, all his feathers drooping, and looking disgusted and half -poisoned. ' " What can you be about, Martin ? " says the Doctor ; "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 harmless- ness of his pursuits, and went on pounding ; click, click, click ; he had n't given six clicks before puff ! up went the [278] EAST AND I . . . HELD OUR NOSES TIGHT' TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS 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 chemis- try 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 mak- ing all these foolish marks on yourself, which you can never get out, and you '11 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 turnout of the den, till Martin came back with his hand bandaged and turned us out. However, I '11 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. 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 phi- losopher. He had a passion for birds, beasts, and insects, and knew more of them and their habits than any one in Rugby ; except perhaps the Doctor, who knew everything. He was also an experimental chemist on a small scale, and [280] TROUBLES OF A BO Y-P H I LO S O P H ER had made unto himself an electric machine, from which it was his greatest pleasure and glory to administer small shocks to any small boys wlio were rash enough to venture into his study. And this was by no means an adventure free from excitement ; for, besides the probability of a snake dropping on to your liead or twining lovingly up your leg, or a rat getting into your breeches-pocket in search of food, there was the animal and chemical odour 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 trying, with the most wondrous results in the shape of explosions 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 neighbours, and they in turn were always on the look-out to pounce upon any of his numerous live-stock, and drive him frantic by enticing his pet old mag- pie out of his window into a neighbouring 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 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 annovance for the behoof of Martin and his live colony. One morning an old basket made its appearance, suspended by a short cord outside Martin's window, in which were deposited an amateur nest contain- ing four young hungry jackdaws, the pride and glory of [281] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS Martin's life for the time being, and which he was currently asserted 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 pavement below, with hideous remonstrance from the occupants. 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 instrument 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 pea-shooter upon the ledge of their window, trained so as to bear exactly upon the spot which Martin had to occupy while tending his nurselings. The moment he be- gan to feed, they began to shoot ; in vain did the ene"my him- self invest in a pea-shooter, and endeavour to answer the fire while he fed the young birds with his other hand ; his at- tention was divided, and his shots fiew wild, while every one of theirs told on his face and hands, and drove him into howlings and imprecations. 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 neigh- bours when any unusually ambrosial odour spread itself from the den to the neighbouring studies. The door panels were [282] THE PHILOSOPHER'S DEN 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 moss-troopers, 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 is n'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 purposes, 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 great work of Martin, the electric machine, which was covered carefully with the remains of his table-cloth. The jackdaw cage occupied one wall, and the other was adorned by a small hatchet, a pair of climbing-irons, and his tin candle- box, in which he was for the time being endeavouring 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 can- dles were available capital, and easily exchangeable for birds' eggs or young birds, Martin's pound invariably found its [ 283 ] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS way in a few hours to Howlett's the bird-fancier's, in the Bilton road, who would give a hawk's or nightingale's egg or young linnet in exchange. Martin's ingenuity was there- fore for ever 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 have n'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 come up after prayers to our study ; you know young Arthur, we 've got Gray's study. We '11 have a good supper and talk about bird's-nesting.' Martin was evidently highly pleased at the invitation, 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 seclusion of their own room, and the rest, or democracy, had sat down to their supper in the Hall ; Tom and Arthur, 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 that this was the first attempt at a friendship of his own which Arthur had made, and [284] TOM'S RESPONSIBILITY Tom hailed it as a grand step. The ease with which he himself became hail-fellow-well-met with anybody, and blun- dered 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 wilderness. This increased his consciousness of responsibility ; and though he had n'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 centre and turning-point of his school- life, that which was to make him or mar him ; his appointed 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 manfulness and, thoughtfulness, as every high-couraged and well-principled boy must, when he finds himself for the first 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-labourers, 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 himself, ' Well, hang it, it 's very hard of the Doctor to have saddled me with Arthur. Why could n't [285] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS 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 legiti- mate pastimes of cricket, fives, bathing, and fishing within bounds, in 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 educa- tion 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, 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, produced 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 Martin 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 [286] THE SUPPER 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 Spinney, 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 '11 show you five sorts,' said Martin. 'Aye, 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'-nesting campaign, be- traying all manner, of important secrets ; a golden-crested wren's nest near Butlin's Mound, a moor-hen who was sit- ting on nine eggs in a pond down the Barby road, and a kingfisher's nest in a corner of the old canal above Browns- over Mill. He had heard, he said, that no one had ever got a kingfisher's nest out perfect, and that the British Museum, or the Government, or somebody, had offered ;^ioo to any one who could bring them a nest and eggs not damaged. In the middle of which astounding announce- ment, to which the others were listening with open ears, and already considering the application of the ;^ioo, a knock came to the door, and East's voice was heard craving admittance. [287] TOM BROWxN'S SCHOOL-DAYS '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 prudence 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 have n't picked up a wrinkle or two for my own benefit.' ' Well, old Madman, and how goes the birds'-nesting campaign .? How 's Howlett ? I expect the young rooks '11 be out in another fortnight, and then my turn comes.' ' There '11 be no young rooks fit for pies for a month yet ; shows how much you know about it,' rejoined Martin, who, though very good friends with East, regarded him with con- siderable suspicion for his propensity 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 '11 come and behave yourself, we '11 have a stunning climb.' [ -^88 ] THE SUPPER 'And a bathe in Aganippe, Hooray! I'm your man.' ' No, no ; no bathing in Aganippe ; that's where our betters go.' 'Well, well, never mind. 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 Row,' said he, 'so you may just as well stop here and do your verses, and then we '11 have some more talk. We '11 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 restored, 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 Rugby, in the consulship of Plancus. And doubtless the method is little changed, for there is nothing new under the sun, especially at schools. Now be it known unto all you boys who are at schools which do not rejoice in the time-honoured institution of the vulgus (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 learnt by heart with it than for its own intrinsic value, as I 've always understood), that it is a short exercise, in [289] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS Greek or Latin verse, on a given subject, tlie 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 morning's vulgus, and at first lesson each boy had to bring his vulgus ready to be looked over ; and with the vulgus, 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 could n'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 discredit 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, on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays ; and as there were thirty-eight weeks in the school year, it is obvi- ous 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 consider- able task, and human nature being prone to repeat itself, it will not be wondered that the masters gave the same sub- jects sometimes over again after a certain lapse of time. To meet and rebuke this bad habit of the masters, 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 [290] VULGUSES gone on till now) I suppose the popular boys, in whose hands bequeathed vulgus-books have accumulated, are pre- pared with three or four vulguses on any subject in heaven or earth, or in 'more worlds than one,' which an unfortu- nate 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 another fol- lower of traditions should show up the same identical vul- gus 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 carefully pro- duced two large vulgus-books, and began diving into them, and picking out a line here, and an ending 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 for his form, and finishing up with two highly moral lines extra, making ten in all, which he cribbed entire from one of his books, beginning ' O 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 would n'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 would n't [291] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS 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 proceeded 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 noth- ing ; 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 con- sidered 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 could n't do this. He then set to work, as much as possible without Gradus or other help, to clothe his idea in appropriate Latin or Greek, and would not be satisfied till he had polished 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 amongst big boys of lazy or bullying habits, and consisted simply in making clever boys [292] THE SCIENCE OF VERSE-MAKING whom they could thrash do their whole vulgus for them, and construe it to them afterwards ; 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 (cxperto crcdc), 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 abundance 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 birds' eggs, to his great delight. The exquisite colouring and forms astonished 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 dreamt of the glorious perils of tree-climbing, and that he had found a roc's Qgg in the island as big as Sinbad's, and clouded like a tit-lark's, in blowing which Martin and he had nearly been drowned in the yolk. [293] Cfepfer JV •/ 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 '/ was 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 HE 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 could n't say. Tom hurried over his own breakfast, and went first to Martin's study and then [294] TOM PUT OUT 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 learnt 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, catching sight of him, Arthur rushed up, all excitement, 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 would n't be pleased, and only looked out for some- thing 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 did n'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 '11 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 '11 be laid up for a week for this precious lark, I '11 be bound.' ' Indeed, Tom, now,' pleaded Arthur, ' my feet ain't wet, for Martin made me take off my shoes and stockings and trousers.' [295] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS * But they are wet and dirty, too — can't I see ? ' answered Tom ; ' and you '11 be called up and floored when the master sees what a state you 're in. You have n'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 had n't been floored yourself now at first lesson, do you mean to say you would n'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 learnt on in advance much more than will be done at second lesson. But the old Madman has n'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 regained his temper. And afterwards in their study he begins to get right again, as he watches Arthur's intense joy at seeing Martin blow- ing the eggs and glueing them carefully on to bits of card- board, 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 preparations for their expedition, fitting new straps on to his climbing- irons, filling large pill-boxes with cotton-wool, and sharpen- ing East's small axe. They carry all their munitions into [296] BIRD'S-NESTING calling-over, and directly afterwards, 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 new sensation to him, getting companions, 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 et ceteras. 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 good' 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 '11 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 noise- lessly as possible, lest keepers or other enemies should be about, and stopped at the foot of a tall fir, at the top of [297] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS 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 lump of mistletoe in the next tree, which was a beech : he saw that Martin and Tom were busy with the climbing-irons, and could n't resist the temptation of hoaxing. Arthur stared and wondered more than ever. ' Well, how curious ! it does n't look a bit like what I expected,' said he. 'Very odd birds, kestrels,' said East, looking waggishly 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.' 'Really!' 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 sus- pecting 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. [298] BIRD'S-NESTING ' 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.' 'Don't believe him, Arthur,' struck in the incorrigible 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 without speaking. But now came the tug of war. It was a very difficult 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 with- out success at first ; the fir bark broke away where they stuck the irons in as' soon as they leant any weight on their feet, and the grip of their arms was n'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 shoulders with the irons on : what do you think my skin 's made of?' However, up he got, and leant 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.' [299] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS '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 to Tom's shoulders, amidst the totterings 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 could n'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. * Is n't it very dangerous ? ' said he. 'Not a bit,' answered Tom; 'you can't hurt if you only get good hand-hold. Try ever)' branch with a good pull before you trust it, and then up you go.' Martin was now amongst 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 '11 be one apiece.' ' No, no ! leave one, and then she won't care,' said Tom. We boys had an idea that birds could n'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 fill he was within ten feet of the ground, when, as the trunk enlarged, his hold got less and less firm, and at last down [300] PECKING he came with a run, tumbhng on to his back on the turf, spluttering and spitting out the remains of the great egg, which had brol^en 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 swallowed 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 afterwards, and there close to them lay a heap of -charming pebbles. ' Look here,' shouted East, ' here 's luck ! I've been long- ing 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 cer- tainly, 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 hedge- rows, and discharging stone after stone at blackbirds and [301 ] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS chaffinches, though no result in the shape of slaughtered birds was obtained ; and Arthur 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 blackbird (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 impudent 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 quarter 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 did n't occupy or keep any one else in. Nevertheless, like a brain- less and unreasoning Briton, he persisted in maintaining on the premises a large stock of cocks, hens, and other poultry. Of course, all sorts of depredators visited the place from time to time : foxes and gipsies wrought havoc in the night ; while in the day-time, I regret to have to confess that visits from the Rugby boys, and consequent disappear- ances 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 [302 ] THE TROUBLESOME DUCK borne away the carcass triumphantly, hidden in their hand- kerchiefs. However, they were sickened of the 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, throwing 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 gruesome 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 wiio were approaching all unconscious. [303] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS 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 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 per- haps 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 shriller and fainter every minute. Meantime, the farmer and his men steal over the hurdles and creep down the hedge towards 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 towards 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 them- selves 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 [304] 'STEAL OVF, li THE HURDLES AND C R E E 1' DOWN THE HEDGE TOWARDS THE SCENE OF ACTION' TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS 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 they haul poor little Arthur, already losing wirid 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 shep- herd 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 constitutional. 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 rnatter ; 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, instead 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 't is ; and if I doan't have they flogged for it, every one on 'em, my name ain't Thompson.' [306] A CONFLICT OF TESTIMONY Holmes looks grave and Diggs's face falls. They are quite ready to fight, no boys in the school more so ; 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, did n't you see 'm there last week ? ' * Ees, I seen 'em sure enough,' says Willum, grasping 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 has 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-sneaking 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 have n't been within a hundred yards of his barn ; we have n'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 honour,' added Tom; 'we weren't after his fowls; 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.' [307] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL- DAYS 'Farmer Thompson,' said Holmes, warning off Willum and the prong with his stick, while Diggs faced the other shepherd, cracking his fingers like pistol shots, ' now lis- ten 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,' answered Holmes. ' And now I '11 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 ; besides, 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 old hen ain't hurt a bit, and she 's seven years old, I know, and as tough as whipcord ; she could n'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 had n't been able to say a word, being sick at heart at the idea of what the Doc- tor would think of him : and now the whole party of boys marched off down the footpath towards Rugby. Holmes, who was one of the best boys in the School, began to im- prove the occasion. ' Now, you youngsters,' said he, as he [308] LECTURE ON SCHOOL LARCENY marched along 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 before 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 and lying in a shop, you wouldn't take them, I know that, any more than you would apples out of Griffith's bas- ket ; 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 distinctions, 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 — ' Gee'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 com- pels me to admit that East, at any rate, forgot 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 afterwards, 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 •Ap k) the Doctor. [ 309 ] 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 could n't resist slight fits of jealousy, which, however, 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 Howlett the bird-fancier, and in- structed him in the rudiments of the art of stuffing. In token of his gratitude, Arthur allowed Martin to tattoo a small anchor on one of his wrists, which decoration, how- ever, 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. [310] ' Surgebat Macnevisius Et mox jactabat ultra, Pugnabo tua gratia Feroci hoc Mactwoltro ' Etonian HERE 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 Bell's Life, let those young persons whose stomachs arc not strong, or who think a good set-to with [3'i] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS the weapons which God has given us all an uncivilized, unchristian, 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 exceptions, when some cross-grained, hard-headed fellow came up who would never be happy unless he was quarrelling with his nearest neighbours, or when there was some class-dispute, between the fifth-form and the fags, for instance, which required blood-letting ; and a 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 sur- est 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 neighbours' 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 experience 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, honest- est business of ever)^ 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 wicked- nesses in high places, or Russians, or Border-rufhans, or Bill, Tom, or Harry, who will not let him live his life in quiet till he has thrashed them. [312] FIGHTING IN GENERAL 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 would n't be our world ; and therefore I am dead against crying peace when there is no peace, and is n't meant to be. I am as sorry as any man to see folk fighting the wrong people and the wrong things, but I'd a deal sooner see them doing that, than that they should have no fight in them. So hav- ing recorded, 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 encounter in this manner. It was drawing towards 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 personae now are, were reading amongst 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 (amongst 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, notwithstand- ing the exquisite pathos of Helen's lamentation. And now several long four-syllabled words come together, and the boy with the dictionary strikes work. TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS ' 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 masters, 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 learnt on for his own pleasure. As East had said, the regular master of the form was unwell, and they were to be heard by one of the new mas- ters, quite a young man, who had only just left the Univer- sity. Certainly it would be hard lines if, by dawdling as much as possible in coming in and taking their places, en- tering into long-winded explanations 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, notwith- standing all their efforts, the new master got on horribly quick ; he seemed to have the bad taste to be really inter- ested in the lesson, and to be trying to work them up into something like appreciation of it, giving them good spirited [314] HOW THE FIGHT AROSE 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 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 murder the most beautiful utterances of the most beautiful woman of the old world. His 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 is n't paying much attention, is suddenly caught by the falter in his voice as he reads the two lines — aXAa (TV Tov y CTTcecrfrt 7rapatc^a/x€vo5 KarepvKe^, 2// T dyuvoc^pocrvvry Koi -;, ■AND THERE GAVE HIM HER HAND AGAIN' TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS he made a place on the sofa for her. ' Tom, you need n't go; I'm sure you won't 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 dearest wishes of my life — to see you two together.' And then he led away the talk to their home in Devon- shire, 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 '11 be back next half, and I shan't forget the house of Rimmon.' 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 and the fatherless. May He deal with you as you have dealt with me and mine ! ' Tom was quite upset ; he mumbled something about owing ever)thing good in him to Geordie — looked in her face again, pressed her hand to his lips, and rushed [354] TOM'S REWARDS downstairs to his study, where he sat till old Thomas 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 favourite 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 bygone Surrey heroes, with whom he had played 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 Eton'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 affectionate and grate- ful friends, Frances Jane Arthur, George Arthur.' I leave you all to guess how he slept, and what he dreamt of. [355] O0' ^ Chapter vn Harry East ^s-Dilejpfiimy an^d Bdw^rame^^ * The Holy Supper is kept, indeed. In zuhatso we share with another'' s need : Not what we give, but what we share, — For the gift without the giver is bare ; Who gives himself with his alms feeds three. Himself, his hungering neighbour, and Me/ Lowell, 'The Fision of Sir LaunfaT HE next morning, after breakfast, Tom, I East, and Gower met as usual to learn their second lesson together. Tom had been considering how to break his pro- posal of giving up the crib to the others, and having found no better way (as in- deed 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 [356] TOM STRINGS HIS MINE he had said, and for his part he had made up his mind, and was n'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 learnt his lessons with them for so many years, it would grieve him much to put an end to the arrangement, and he hoped at any rate that if they would n'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 — ' 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 ha-ve had the sack long ago, if it had n'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.' [357] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS 'What! in this chorus? Why, we shan't get through ten Hnes.' ' I say, Tom,' cried East, having hit on a new idea, 'don't you remember, when we were in the upper fourth and old Momus 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 did n't flog me for using a translation, but for tak- ing it into lesson, and using it there when I hadn't learnt a word before I came in. He said 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 without it. Go ahead. East.' And on this agreement they started : Tom, satisfied with having made his confession, and not sorry to have a /ocus poc7iitentiae, and not to be deprived altogether 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 whose turn it was to construe. Of course Tom couldn't object to this, as was it not simply lying there to be appealed 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 [358] RESULTS OF THE EXPLOSION sentences before having recourse to its help. Tom, however, with the most heroic virtue and gallantry, rushed into his sentence, searching in a high-minded manner for nomina- tive and verb, and turning over his dictionary frantically for the first hard word that stopped him. But in the mean- time 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. When Tom and East were left face to face, they 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 neighbours.' 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 '11 swear I could n't make out one of my sentences to-day. No, nor ever could. I really don't remember,' said East, speaking slowly and impressively, 'to have come across one Latin or Greek sentence this half, that I could go and construe by the light of nature. Whereby I am sure Providence intended 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 [359] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS 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 '11 take away mutual help, brotherly love, or, in the vulgar tongue, giving construes, which I hold to be one of our highest virtues. For how can you distinguish between getting a construe from another boy and using a crib .? Hang it, Tom, if you 're going to deprive all our school-fellows of the chance of exer- cising Christian benevolence and being good Samaritans, I shall cut the concern.' ' I wish you would n'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 '11 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 generations ? Not use old copy-books ! Why, you might as well say we ought to pull down West- minster Abbey, and put up a go-to-meeting shop with churchwarden windows ; or never read Shakespeare, but only Sheridan Knowles. Think of all the work and labour 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.' [360] THE ENEMY'S DEFENCE '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 another — before they were born, perhaps ; and that of cutting up and mak- ing picture-frames round all your and my false quantities, and other monstrosities. Why, Tom, you would n't be so cruel as never to let old Momus hum over the " O genus humanum," 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 '11 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 let 's go over it again, I '11 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 ; [361] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS going into it as if his life depended upon it, and sparing no abuse which he could think of, of the opposite method, which he denounced as ungentlemanly, cowardly, mean, ly- ing, and no one knows what besides. 'Very cool of Tom,' as East thought, but did n't say, * seeing as how he only came out of Egypt himself last night at bedtime.' 'Well, Tom,' said he at last, 'you see, when you and I came to school there were none of these sort of 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 foot- ball, 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 shirking, 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 learnt it. He 's got to find out whether I have or not ; what 's he paid for ? If he calls me up and I get floored, he makes me write it out in Greek and English. Very 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 mis- take about it, Wq understand it, and they understand it, and I don't know what we 're to come to with any other.' [362] THE TRUCE Tom looked at him pleased, and a little puzzled. He had never heard East speak his mind seriously before, and could n'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, I shall hold on — I must. And as it 's all new and an uphill 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 com- fortable. Now, I '11 allow all you 've said. We 've always been honourable 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 openly, 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 [363] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL- DAYS 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 up on to the steps to shake hands with him, and Tom mumbled thanks for the presents he had found in his study, and looked round anxiously for Arthur's mother. East, who had fallen back into his usual humour, looked quaintly at Arthur, and said — ' So you 've been at it again, through that hot-headed con- vert 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 — ' 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, wish- ing Arthur a pleasant holiday ; Tom lingering behind a moment to send his thianks 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 they were sitting alone in the large study, where East lived now almost, 'vice Arthur on leave,' after examining 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 [364] THE SIEGE REOPENS 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 belabouring somebody else with it all, suddenly rushed into the subject of Arthur's illness, and what he had said about death. . East had given him the desired opening : after a serio- comic grumble, ' that life was n'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 did n'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 sub- ject. But somehow he was borne on, he had a necessity [365] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS 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 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 unbosomed 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, w^ith a constant fund of animal health and spirits which he did not feel bound to curb in any way, he had gained for himself with 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 dangerous to be intimate with ; while his own hatred of everything 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 [366] FRIENDSHIP TESTED capacity for taking the weakest side. This is not putting it strongly enough ; it was a necessity with him, he could n'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. Now, though East was not what is generally called un- popular, Tom felt more and more every day, as their char- acters developed, that he stood alone, and did not make friends among their contemporaries ; and therefore sought him out. Tom was himself much more popular, for his power of detecting humbug was much less acute, and his instincts were much more sociable. He 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, fear- lessness, and honesty were just what East appreciated, and thus the two had been drawn into great intimacy. This intimacy had not been interrupted by Tom's guardianship of Arthur. East had often, as- has been said, joined them in reading 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 themselves. In fact, the two had shrunk from personal religious discussion, not knowing how it might end ; and fearful of risking a friend- ship very dear to both, and which they felt somehow, with- out quite knowing why, would never be the same, but either tenfold stronger or sapped at its foundation, after such a communing together. ' What a bother all this explaining is ! I wish we could get on without it. But we can't. However, you '11 all find, [ 367 ] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS 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 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 one there, nothing on earth can, or at least ought to, sunder you. East had remained lying down until Tom finished speak- ing, as if fearing to interrupt him ; he now sat up at the table, and leant his head on one hand, taking 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 ver)' 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 kindhearted as you are.' [368] EAST'S CONFESSIONS * 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.' ' I only wish it was, Tom. I know I could be popular 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 Sacrament. I can see, from the Doctor downwards, 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 confirmed with the rest of us nearly three years ago .-* I always thought you '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 Doctor sent round for us about it, I was 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 [369] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS I could see of their reasons drove me just the other way. 'T was " because the Doctor Hked it" ; "no boy got on who didn't stay the Sacrament"; it was "the correct thing," — in fact, hke having a good hat to wear on Sundays. I 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 was n't going to sham religious to curry favour with the Doctor, or any one else.' East stopped speaking, and pegged away more diligently than ever with his pencil. Tom was ready to cry. He felt half sorry at first that he had been confirmed 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 Arthur 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 because I see it 's to do me good here, just what stopped me last time. And then I go back again.' ' I '11 tell you now how 'twas with me,' said Tom warmly. * If it had n't been for Arthur, I should have done just as you did. I hope I should. I honour you for it. But then he made it out just as if it was taking the weak side before all the world — going in once for all against everything [370] TOM'S PRESCRIPTION that 's strong and rich and proud and respectable, a Httle 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 your elect, whatever the right phrase is. My sympathies 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 re- ligion, I was bred up in it, and I can't stand it. If nineteen- twentieths of the world are to be left to uncovenanted mercies, and that sort of thing, which means in plain Eng- lish 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 con- firmed 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 explain. 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 ? ' [371] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS * 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 could n'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 wouldn't do. I broke down : I believe Christ Himself broke me down ; and when the Doctor gave me the bread and wine, and leant 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 '11 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, upstairs. 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 to 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.' [372] THE EFFECT THEREOF ' 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 how kind and gentle he was, the great grim man, whom I 've feared more than anybody on earth. When I stuck, he lifted me, just as if I'd 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 was n't shocked a bit, and did n't snub me, or tell me I was a fool, and it was all nothing but pride or wickedness, though I dare say it was. And he did n'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 what 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 had n'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 did n't feel it honest to take what pleased him and throw over the rest, [373] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS 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 exhausted, and in five minutes he was saying the most ridiculous things he could think of, till Tom was almost getting angry again. Despite of himself, however, he couldn't help laughing 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 get to earth .-• ' And so their talk finished for that time, and they tried to learn first lesson ; with ver)' poor success, as appeared ne.xt morning, when they were called up and narrowly escaped being floored, which ill-luck, however, did not sit heavily on either of their souls. [374] Sfom !Brown!iors : the lord of the manor, the chief landowner, would have certain rights over the common. publican : keeper of the public house, or inn. Page 52. lurcher: a cross between a greyhound and a sheep-dog; so called because it was commonly used by poachers, who were called lurchers because they ' lurched ' or lurked about. Page 53. lissom : active, supple. samplers : it used to be a common custom for girls to do, as a sample of their skill, a piece of fancy sewing containing their name, their birthplace, and a rhyme or text. ingle: that is, the ingle-nook, the corner at the side of a wide open fireplace. tnute inglorious Miltotts : a quotation from Gray's ' Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard.' Page 56. embrangle: mix up in confusion. the Crichton : James Crichton, born in 1 560, who was called ' The Admirable Crichton,' was a Scotchman who travelled in France and Italy and roused universal admiration by his wonderful memory and power of argument. He is said to have been murdered at the age of twenty-five by his pupil, the son of the Duke of Mantua. [422] I NOTES true blue Tory : ' Tory ' is a political name originally given to the extreme partisans of the Crown at the end of the seventeenth cen- tury, and in modern times to the extreme Conservatives, those most opposed to change. True blue (fixed, unfading, or Coventry blue) is the Tory electioneering color in most parts of England. Page 57. vestry : a meeting of chief men in a parish to consult on parish business. See note on t lie parish butts (p. 415). close : an enclosed space ; used now principally of the precincts of a cathedral ; the word is applied at Rugby to the old playing-ground, which was formed out of several closes, or fields. niullioned windows : windows divided by vertical stone bars ; they are a characteristic of Elizabethan house-architecture. Page 58. Swiss Fa)?iily Robinson : a very well-known story of the adventures of a family cast on an island. The author was J. D. Wyss, a Swiss; it was published in 1813. Page 60. forms : here ' forms ' means benches. The word is also used in schools to mean classes. withdrew to the servants^ hall : the village schoolmasters of the time were simple, half-educated people. They would not go to the servants' hall nowadays. Page 62. ro2cnde?-s : an old game from which baseball developed. high-cock-a-loruitt : leap-frog. The player shouts ' High-cock-a- lorum, jig, jig, jig ' as he leaps over each back. Page 65. green rides : paths cut through a wood to allow horsemen to pass through it. pan-pipes : a simple home-made musical instrument. Page 66. private school : a school where small boys are prepared for the public schools. Hughes was sent to a private school at Twyford, near Winchester. alley-taws : a taw is a marble ; ' alley-taw ' is probably short for 'alabaster-taw,' i.e. a real 'marble,' not one made of inferior stone. Page 67. public schools : not, as the name might suggest, government schools, but big boarding schools, too expensive for any but well- to-do people, where boys are educated for the Universities and for the various careers. ushers : the name was applied to inferior masters such as are here described ; they have fortunately long ceased to exist. Page 6g. gaby : fool. [423] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS Page 70. primum iempus : first time, that is, first offence. bulls' -eyes : large round sweets flavoured with peppermint. the down : that is, Hazeldown. Chalk hills (see note on chalk hills, p. 415) are usually called downs, e.g. the North and South Downs; the word comes from the Old English dun, meaning ' hill.' Page 72. working : trying to induce. CHAPTER IV Page 74. Tally-ho coach : ' tally-ho ' was a common name for a coach at the time. ' Tally-ho ' is the huntsman's cry to urge on his hounds. the Boots : the man who cleans the boots and does odd jobs. Islington : a borough in the north part of London. The Peacock was a very famous coaching inn at which all north-going coaches stopped. Page 75. postchaise : a hired close carriage, driven by a postboy, or postillion, who rode on one of the horses. the Star : the coach that brought him up from Berkshire. Page 76. stout : a dark liquor like beer, but stronger. Page 77. flint and steel, and tinder: in days before matches were invented, the ordinary way of getting a light was by striking a flint on steel and kindling a piece of tinder. with the spark — a very laborious process. Trichinopoli : a city in India, famous for its tobacco. Page 78. the digamma : a Greek letter which had become obsolete in classical times. comforter : a woollen wrap to go round the neck. Petersham coat: a great-coat called after a certain Lord Peter- sham, who was a famous dandy about 181 2. Page 79. the town-made drag : the drag is the coach itself. guard: still so called on English trains; in omnibuses and tram-cars the word ' conductor ' is used. the hind boot : the place at the back of the coach in which parcels were carried. his late Majesty : William IV. Page 80. plaid : a rectangular piece of woollen stuff used by Scotch countrymen instead of an overcoat. Till quite recent times railway carriages were not heated. [424] NOTES pikeman : man at the turnpike. See note on turnpike-roads (p. 420). Page 81. early purl : purl, according to the dictionaries, is hot beer flavoured with gin, sugar, and ginger. Page 82. huntsman''s hack : the horse on which he rides to the meet, where he would mount his ' hunter.' old pink : fox hunters commonly wear a bright pink tail coat and white riding breeches. the inn door : probably at Stony Stratford. Page 84. bagmen : commercial travellers. sharp-set: hungry. Page 86. way-bill : list of passengers. tap : taproom, where drink is served. burgesses : citizens. knock out of time : to-day this phrase is commonly shortened to ' knock out.' A boxer is knocked out of time, or knocked out, when he cannot rise to his feet within a certain time. Page 87. ^Masin' big horse and cattle fair : the visitor may still see, by the pavement in the old streets, square holes in which posts used to be put at the time of the fair in order to form a barrier to keep the horses and cattle away from foot passengers. Rugby now has a cattle market every week, and the autumn fair is not so important. Page 88. first-day boys : as coach accommodation was very limited, the school took several days to meet and disperse. Pats: Pat, short for Patrick, is a nickname for an Irishman, many of whom are named after St. Patrick, the patron saint of Ireland. Page 89. the half: in those days, when travelling was difficult, the school year was divided into two halves ; now there are three terms. Page 90. yeoman chap : farmer. See note on yeo/nen's work (p. 413). cob : a thickset, sturdy horse. Page 91. county tnetnbers : members of Parliament for the county. Page 92. bowls: an old and very peaceful English game, still constantly played, in which differently weighted wooden balls, not quite round, are rolled at a smaller one. The nearest ones count, and the art con- sists in using the 'bias' of the bowl, by which it is made to roll in a curve and knock an opponent's bowl away. According to tradition, Drake was playing bowls at Plymouth when the Armada came in sight. cricket bats and wickets : for a description of a cricket match see Part II, Chapter VIII. [435] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS CHAPTER V Page 94. the Sclwol-Iwuse : the oldest and biggest of the boarding- houses, presided over by the Head Master. Dead-tnan's corner : really some two miles south of Rugby; the name has now passed out of memory. the spread Eagle : the chief inn at the time ; it is now the Eagle Temperance Hotel, in t"he market place. Page 96. one/ windoiu : a projecting window. Page 98. louts : town boys. the quadrangle : a courtyard round which are the School House and the old form rooms. go-io-ineeting roof : that is, Sunday hat. It would be a top-hat. The ' regulation cat-skin ' was also a top-hat, but of an inferior quality. It gave place to the straw hat as the ' regulation ' hat a few years ago. send in a note : boys can present a note signed by their house- master at authorized shops. The goods are then charged for in the bills at the end of the term. tile : a slang word for a hat. Page i 00. hoiu afelloiv cuts up : what sort of an impression he makes. half a sov : half a sovereign, ten shillings. Page 103. Grifnaldi : a horse named after a popular comedian of the early part of the nineteenth century. Amy Robsart : the ill-fated heroine in ' Kenilworth,' one of Scott's Waverley novels. Tom Crib : a famous boxer, the champion of his time ; he died in 1848. Page i 04. climbing-irons : an iron frame with spikes, which is strapped to the foot or below the knee ; it enables the wearer to climb a tree which affords no hand-hold or foothold. Page 105. praepostor : praepositor, 'some one placed over others.' The name is given to the boys in the sixth form (the highest form) who are responsible for the discipline of the school. reading: working; 'reading' is commonly used in this sense at the Universities. pastrycook's : shop where pastry and other sweet things are sold. [426] I NOTES big-bearded man : it is hard to believe that a boy of nineteen could grow a big beard, but these days of clean shaving afford no experience, and old photographic groups show indisputably that boys could grow whiskers. tlie old verger : his name was Thomas Woollridge; he also appears in the book as 'Thos.' He was one of the menservants, and was called the verger because his duties included the care of the chapel. Page io6. Mentor: Mentor in Homer is the wise counsellor of Telemachus. Page 107. the big fives court : fives is a game in which a small hard ball is knocked about against the walls of a court. Ordinarily it is played with the hand (hence the name ' fives '), but in the big fives court they played 'bat-fives' against the walls of the school buildings opposite the east end of the chapel; the present chapel covers much of the space, but there are numerous fives courts built for the purpose in one corner of the Close. Page 108. little-side: the less important games, as opposed to 'big- side.' the island : a mound which is probably an ancient British bar- row, or burial mound. In later times the monks from the great abbey of Pipewell, who owned the land, built a grange close to the tumulus, around which they dug a moat and filled it with water from springs in the gravel, in order to provide themselves with a fish-pond. Thus the tumulus became an island, and remained so until the moat was drained in 1847. It still retains the name. island fagging : a curious custom by which the uncongenial sur- face of the island (it is covered with trees) was planted with flowers and turf procured from neighbouring fields and gardens, in honour of Speech Day, which then took place in Easter week. The cus- tom died out when Speech Day was transferred to the summer (see page 390). scud : fast runner. hacks: kicks. in quarters : for this and other technical terms see the descrip- tion of the football match later on in this chapter. Besides its inter- est as part of a vivid story, the description is also interesting as showing an early stage in the game of Rugby football, which has spread from the School Close at Rugby over a large part of the [427] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS English-speaking world. The modern game, played fifteen a side, is a very different game from that which is here described. cock of the School : champion boxer, and generally dominant. Page 109. the Doctor's wall : the red-brick wall which divides the School-house garden from the Close. Page hi. the three t?-ees : like the other elms in the Close, these were the remains of lines of hedgerow elms which had originally divided the ground into separate fields. The last of the Three Trees was blown down in a great gale in March, 1895, when nine- teen other elms also fell. Page 112. the lower fourth : Dr. Thomas James, an Etonian under whose guidance between 1778 and 1794 the school increased very much, divided the school into six forms on the Eton system, the sixth form being the highest. The sixth and fifth forms still exist, and in various subdivisions form the Upper School, but the other names have dropped out. Page i 13. the shell : this term, as the name of a form, came origi- nally from Westminster School, where it was given to the form that sat in a shell-like alcove in the great school-room. It still survives at Rugby, but as one of the lowest forms. will he, nill he : whether he likes it or not. fags : all boys below the Upper School are ' fags ' ; that is, they are liable to be employed by the sixth form to go on errands, clean their studies, and so on. Page i i 6. he of Russia : the Tsar. Page i i 7. /// the consulship of Plancus : in my younger days (consule Planco, Horace, Odes, III, 14). Page 118. petming : pressing, hemming in. Page 119. locking-up : boys have to be in their houses before the doors are locked in the evening, at a time varying with the season. Page i 20. toco : a slang word for chastisement. all Lombard Street to a china orange : a proverbial expression for heavy odds. Lombard Street in London is a banking centre. Page 122. Hill Morion : a village close to Rugby. in the Pyrenees : during the Peninsular War, 1808-1814. Page 123. fob'' s war-horse : Job xxxix, 19-25. Page 124. the colutnn of the Old Guard : the last desperate attack of the French at Waterloo. [428] NOTES CHAPTER VI Page i 26. opodeldoc : a liniment for bruises. Page 127. Saily HarroiveWs : the shop stood on ground now occu- pied by part of the School buildings in the New Quadrangle. mu7-phies : potatoes, because ' Murphy ' is a common Irish name and potatoes are the staple food in Ireland. The word is obsolete now. For the ' tuck-shop ' see note on tuck (p. 438). alloivances : boys are allowed a shilling a week for pocket money. tick : a common slang word for credit. If you can't pay, you ' go on tick.' It is an abbreviation of ' ticket.' Page i 30. on Jicr slate ': slates and slate pencils were in common use for temporary writing before paper and lead pencils became so cheap. hind carrier of a sedan-chair: a sedan-chair was a kind of closed box in which one person could sit ; it was carried on poles, like a stretcher, by two men. Page i 34. time-hotwured ceremony : the custom of having new boys sing ('lamb-singing' it is called now) still survives in the School-house, on the third Saturday in each term. Page 136. The Leather Bottel : the words are of the seventeenth century ; the tune is traditional. the fugleman : the leader (a military term). the old sea sofig : written by Alan Cunningham in 1 8 1 o. Chesapeake and Shannon : a song celebrating the famous sea fight between these two ships off Boston in 1813. the boarders : the men who board a ship in an attack at close quarters. Page 138. the young uti : his younger brother. the Balliol scholarship : scholarships at Balliol College, Oxford, were and are more difficult to win than those at any other college, the competition being very keen. Page 139. this new Doctor: Doctor Arnold became head master in 1828. Hughes went to Rugby in 1834. Page 140. cord t?vusers : cord, or corduroy, is a very strong ribbed cloth, made of cotton, with a velvety surface. a keen hand : a sporting person. harriers and beagles : hounds used for hunting hares. Eton boys still keep a pack of beagles. [429] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS big-side Hare and Hounds : in hunting tlie hare the hunters go on foot; hence the name 'Hare and Hounds' is given to a game in which two boys are given a start and the rest run after them, tracing their course by scraps of paper thrown by the 'hares' as they run. See Chapter VH. Page 141. a public-school man : Arnold was at school at Winchester. Page 142. ain't : this was a common colloquialism amongst the edu- cated a generation ago; it is now used mainly by uneducated people. Page 143. law of the Medes and Persiatts : 'the law of the Medes and Persians, which altereth not ' (Dan. vi, 8). Page 144. dips: tallow-candles. cocktail : here the term is evidently used of the bottled beer. Page i 46. the buttery-door- : a buttery is a room in which provisions are kept. The word is still in use at the Universities. Page 147. their waistcoats : there was no regulation school dress at this period, and fancy waistcoats were much in fashion at the time. cap on head : masters still wear a university cap and gown in school and chapel. Page i 48. funk : are afraid. Page 149. Gone to ground : when a fox takes refuge in his 'earth,' or hole, he is said to 'go to ground.' Page 150. good plucked one: plucky, brave. The ' pluck ' of an animal is the heart and other organs ; hence ' pluck ' came to mean courage. Page 152. the rub: the difficulty — a word familiarized by the line in Hamlet, To sleep ! perchance to dream ; aye, there 's the rub ; In this sense it comes from a technical term in the game of bowls. CHAPTER vn Page 155. Bogle : I do not know why the shoeblacks, or boot-boys as they would be called now, were nicknamed Bogles. A bogle is a scarecrow, but there may have been no connection. The nickname is no longer used. a pull : a lucky thing. Page 160. Osbert : Hughes in later years, on one of his visits to Rugby, related this feat as having been performed by W. C. Oswell, who was afterwards a famous African explorer. [430] NOTES the Greek text : it is still over the door in the new chapel. It is the first verse of Psalm cxxii, ' I was glad when they said unto me, Let us go into the house of the Lord.' Page 164. enough to sink a three-decker : a proverbial expression; the old wooden battle-ships were built with three decks. the big School: known now as Old Big School; several forms used to be taught in it at the same time. Page 168. Barby : a village four miles south-east of Rugby. Page 169. six minutes^ law : six minutes' start. wattle : the word ordinarily means a hurdle of woven rods, but here it seems to mean a thick hedge. Page i 70. making casts : a phrase used in hunting when the hounds are taken round in a wide circle, in order to pick up a lost scent. All the technical terms in Hare and Hounds are borrowed from the real sport. fencing : jumping fences. Page 172. the Cock : the 'Cock and Robin,' now turned into cottages, stood near the village of Dunchurch, about two miles from Rugby. all hope of coming in : that is, within the quarter of an hour after the hares. Page 173. the run in: the last part of the course, going straight to the rendezvous. Page 174. the Oxfo7'd coach: this coach ran from Oxford to Leicester, through Dunchurch and Rugby. Page 177. Nicias'' galleys : Nicias was an Athenian commander who fought in the Peloponnesian War. Dr. Arnold was a keen historian, and edited Thucydides' history of this war. Page i 78. twenty lines : twenty lines of poetry. cockfighting : two boys, each hopping on one foot and holding his hands against his sides, attack each other with their elbows. The one who puts both feet on the floor, or takes his hands from his sides, is beaten. Page i 80. cornopean : a cornet. The song is a well-known old hunting song. Journey-money : money for the journey home. Page 182. Bird's: one of the boarding-houses on the Hill Morton Road. The boarding-houses at Rugby other than the School-house are known by the name of the house-master of the time. [431] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS CHAPTER VIII Page i 84. the accidence : the more elementary part of grammar. Page 185. taking them up : going above them in class by answering questions which they had failed at ; the process is called ' taking places.' Argils : the man with a hundred eyes, in Greek mythology, who was set by Hera to guard the cow into which she had transformed lo. their verses : the Latin verses which they had composed. their jackets ivhitened : that is, with chalk. Page 186. copies : exercises in Latin or Greek prose or verse. Page i 88. get construes of: get some other boy to translate. Page 189. Triste lupus stabulis : 'the wolf is a scourge [literally, a woeful thing the wolf] to the flocks' (Virgil, Eclogues, III, 80). Page 192. William Tell : the famous Swiss patriot who stood up against the Austrians in the fourteenth century. Page 193. was just coming out : the Pickwick Papers, by Dickens, were published in monthly parts in 1836- 183 7. Page 197. a leTv 0/ the School : a meeting of the school. In modern times only the L'pper School attend the levies, which are usually only formal. The Head of the School, no longer called captain, presides. sent to Coventry : when a boy is ' sent to Coventry ' no one will speak to him or have any dealings with him. The phrase ap- pears to have originated in the Civil Wars. Coventry was then a Parliamentary stronghold, and Clarendon records that some of the king's men, being captured, were sent to Coventry as a safe place. Page 203. out 0/ bounds : boys were not allowed to go outside a cer- tain radius round the school. Nowadays it is the town which is ' out of bounds,' with the exception of certain streets. Page 204. Penates : household possessions. The Penates were the household gods of the Romans. Page 205. the Derby lottery : the Derby, so called in 1780 after Lord Derby, a great patron of the turf, is a race for three-year-olds, and is run at Epsom in Surrey every May. It is the most important race of the year, and Derby day is a great popular festival for Londoners. making books : to make a book on a race is to arrange and record bets on or against various horses. Houses of Palaver : a contemptuous term for Parliament. [432] NOTES Page 206. as a hedge : to ' hedge ' a bet is to safeguard oneself from loss on it by making other bets to compensate ; but Flashman's words are only an excuse. ///i? f/zsy : ' tizzy ' is a slang word for a sixpence. It is a corruption of the old word ' tester.' The tizzy was his profit on the transaction, for he had paid a shilling for the lottery ticket. Page 208. coxiest : most impertinent. A slang word which has fallen into disuse in public schools. CHAPTER IX Page 219. Brownsover : a village close to Rugby on the north, the other side of the Avon. hurdle : a strong wooden frame about six feet long and three feet high, made of split stakes and interwoven withies. They are used for temporary enclosures, e.g. "for sheep. They were the original obstacles in hurdle-racing. Page 220. Kossuth, Garibaldi, Mazzini : three heroes in the struggle for liberty against despotism in the middle of the nineteenth century. Kossuth was a Hungarian ; Mazzini and Garibaldi were Italians, the former being a thinker and writer, the latter a man of action. The enemy in each case was Austria. Page 221. Ishmaelites : ' He [Ishmael] will be a wild man ; his hand will be against every man, and every man's hand against him ' (Genesis xvi, i 2). Page 224. ticket-of-leave men : convicts who are let out of gaol be- fore their sentence is served, as a reward of good behaviour, have to report themselves to the police at regular intervals. In Hughes's day the ' ticket of leave ' was granted without requiring previous good behaviour, efficient supervision of the men thus released was not insisted on, and the system worked very badly. Page 226. The river Avon : Shakespeare's Avon, which rises near Naseby and flows through Rugby and Stratford on Avon to join the Severn at Tewkesbury. Boys in the school no longer fish or bathe in it, but there is still a bathing place at ' Swifts,' where the little tributary, the Swift, which flows from Lutterworth (Wyclif's last parish), joins the Avon. the Planks : the planks have given place within recent years to a cement causeway. [ 433 ] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS Pages 226-227. SleatJis, Anstey''s^ Wratislaw" s : Sleath, Anstey, and Wratislaw were well-known Rugby names in the first half of the nineteenth century, both as boys and afterwards as masters. Page 227. tJiought no small beer of ilicinseh'es : small beer is poor, weak beer; hence the phrase, which means ' to think highly of oneself.' Page 228. night-lines : lines baited and left in the stream all night. Page 230. As / uft^ my companions : a well-known old English song called ' The Poacher,' which begins ' When I was bound apprentice in famous Lincolnshire.' It is the marching song of the Lincolnshire regiment. t/ie lotus-eaters : Odyssey, IX, 83-102. The lotus fruit made the eater forget home and friends and live in a state of dreamy pleasure. See also Tennyson's poem, ' The Lotos-Eaters.' eplieinerae : insects that live for a day. the gentle craft : fishing ; so termed by Isaac W^alton in ' The Compleat Angler,' published in 1653. Page 231. tnade a dead point : like a 'pointer,' a sporting dog which stops short when it scents a bird. Page 232. Mz^^.- an obsolete slang word for a nickname. See page 149. Page 234. two bob : ' bob ' is slang for a shilling. Page 235. of the school : the school against the outside wall of which the game was played. See note on the big fives court fp. 427). Page 236. the viinute-hand of the great clock : the old minute-hand of the clock, which is preserved in the school art museum, is inscribed with the name ' T. Hughes ' amongst others. Page 238. old Holmes, a sturdy, cheery praepostor : undoubtedly drawn from S. C. Holmes Hansard, who was afterwards Rector of Bethnal Green in East London and a friend of Hughes. the master of their form : the man meant is G. E. L. Cotton, who was afterwards Head Master of Marlborough and Bishop of Calcutta. PART II CHAPTER I Page 245. slings : for slinging stones. Marryafs novels : Captain Marryat was a naval officer who wrote very popular novels dealing with life in the navy. He died in 1 848. [434] NOTES decline : a name by which consumption used to be known. George Arthur : an uncritical but wide-spread tradition said that the original of Arthur was Arthur Penrhyn Stanley, afterwards Dean of Westminster, who wrote Dr. Arnold's Life and other well- known books. Stanley left Rugby very soon after Hughes went there, and they were not acquainted till later years. Like Tom Brown himself, and East and others, the portrait appears to have been a composite one. Page 246. h still livi/ig : Mrs. Arnold died in 1873. Page 248. rooks : birds resembling crows, but feeding wholly on grain and insects. Page 255. Square-toes : square-toed boots and shoes were character- istic of pedantic, old-fashioned, and puritanical people. Page 256. the cave in Mount Horeb : i Kings xix. CHAPTER II Page 268. the war: the war against Napoleon. There was a period of great industrial depression after its close in 181 5. Utopian ideas : ideas too fine to be realized in the world. ' Utopia,' which means ' Nowhere-land,' written by Sir Thomas More in 151 6, was the first in English of many books in which reformers have pictured an ideal state. Page 269. Chartism : the Chartists were a political society who in the early years of Queen Victoria's reign advocated electoral reforms embodied in ' The People's Charter.' The reforms, though sweep- ing, were not unreasonable, and several of them have long since become law; but they were considered revolutionary at the time, and the Chartists, who adopted a somewhat mutinous attitude, were the objects of much fear. Page 271. a Freethinking Club : 'freethinkers' was a common term in Victorian times for those who refused to accept the views of any religious organization. Page 272. Lord Grey and the Reform Bill : Lord Grey introduced the great Reform Bill of 1832, which only passed after a very fierce struggle ; it extended the franchise widely and reorganized the electoral districts. Page 273. Ahiaman : 1 Kings v. [ 435 ] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS CHAPTER III Page 277. Gradus ad Parnassum : ' Steps to Parnassus,' a very well- known English-Latin verse dictionary, which gives synonyms and quotations from the Latin poets. as mad as a hatter : a proverbial expression. Compare Calverley : And such was he. A calm-browed lad. Yet mad, at moments, as a hatter : Why hatters as a race are mad I never knew, nor does it matter. Page 282. the Russian engineers at Sebastopol : under Todleben the defences of Sebastopol in the Crimea were so well organized that the town held out for eleven months against the French and English (1854-1855). Page 283. 7noss-troopers : so called because their strongholds were among the ' mosses,' or marshes, on the borders of England and Scotland ; they were freebooters who made raids on the border farms and drove off the cattle. Bewick: a famous wood-engraver, 1 753-1 828. His 'History of British Birds ' contains some of his best work. Page 285. Phoebe Jennings : presumably the name of the landlady of some public house in the neighbourhood. Page 287. kestrel : a kind of hawk. Page 288. fidus Achates : ' faithful Achates,' in Virgil's ^neid, is the friend of i4Lneas. The phrase has become proverbial. bottling the s-vipes : an old Rugbeian of the period has recorded a School-house recipe for this process. The beer was poured into a bottle containing ' a dessert-spoonful of powdered rice, the same of brown sugar, half a salt-spoon of powdered ginger, and finally two raisins.' When the raisins rose to the top, it showed that the ale was fit to drink. Caldecott's Spinney : a small wood in the Avon valley a little below Rtigby ; it was called after the neighbouring landowner of the time. Page 289. Aganippe : a bathing pool in the Avon near Caldecott's Spinney. It was named after the fountain on Mt. Helicon in Boeotia, sacred to the Muses, and was used by the upper forms in the school. in the consulship of Plancus : see note on p. 428. vulgus : ' the common task.' It is explained on p. 290. [436] NOTES Williajn of Wykehain : a famous prelate and statesman in the time of Edward III, who founded Winchester College (the oldest of English public schools) and New College, Oxford. Page 290. if the tradition has gone on till now : the vulgus has long become a thing of the past ; ' copies,' or exercises into Latin and Greek, are always pieces of English prose or verse. Page 291. elegiac lines : a favourite Latin metre, consisting of coup- lets of ' hexameter ' (a verse with six feet) and 'pentameter' (a verse with five feet). Page 293. experto crede : 'believe me who have tried it.' CHAPTER IV Page 297. pecking-bag : a strong bag for carrying stones for throwing at birds, or ' pecking.' Page 300. came down like a lamplighter : in the days when street Hghts were oil lamps, the lamplighter with his ladder was a familiar sight, and the expression became proverbial. Page 302. quickset : a quickset hedge is a thick hedge in which the bushes which form it are ' set quick ' (that is, planted alive). Page 304. Co))ie back, come back : a guinea-fowl's cry is just like these words. Page 306. shout ' On ' .• if a fag when ' out of bounds ' saw a prae- postor, he had to hide or run away until the latter shouted 'On'; he was then free to go on with what he was doing. If the call was 'Back,' he had to come and answer for himself. The custom, long since obsolete, was called ' shirking.' CHAPTER V Page 311. Surgebat Macnevisius : from verses in dog-Latin in the Eton school paper. ' Macnevisius rose up and soon cried out right readily. For your sake I will fight this bold Mactwolter.' BelVs Life: the popular sporting paper of the time, in which prize-fights were recorded. Page 312. Russians, or Border-ruffians : the Crimean War and the ' border war ' of the settlement of Kansas were recent events when Hughes wrote. Hughes, of course, sympathized with the anti-slavery party in Kansas. [437] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS Page 313. The shell : see note on p. 428. whole school-day : on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, lessons were (and are) given in the afternoon ; the other three afternoons are half-holidays. Page 3 1 4. nem. con. : nemine conttadicente (no one speaking against the motion). Page 31 5. oAAa (tu etc. : 'Then wouldst thou soothe such and refrain them, by the gentleness of thy spirit and by thy gentle words ' (Iliad XXIV, 771-772). Page 317. Slogger: 'to slog' is slang for 'to hit hard.' Page 321. peels well: looks in good condition when he takes his clothes off (a phrase from the boxing-ring). tuck : eatables bought from shops. The commonest modern slang word is ' stodge.' Page 322. thunder-ajid-lightning waistcoat : a waistcoat with a bright streaky pattern. Page 325. W^e've got the last : we can hold out longest. Cf. p. 362. Page 327. his sponge will soon go up : the signal from the ' second' that his man gave up the fight. go to Bath : a proverbial slang expression meaning ' get out of the wav,' ' make yourself scarce.' Originally it meant 'you are mad,' for the insane as well as the sick used to go to Bath for treatment. Page 330. gravelled: at a loss for an answer: the phrase comes from a ship being ' gravelled ' when she runs aground. Page 332. Eveti Thackeray: he is apparently alluding to a sketch called ' Mr. and ]\Irs. Frank Berry ' in the first part of which he describes ' The fight at Slaughter House ' (that is, Charterhouse). CHAPTER VI Page 335. the twetity : the form next below the Sixth; so called because originally it was limited to the number twenty. Page 336. Marylebone match : the Marylebone Cricket Club, in London, ' the M. C. C.,' is the oldest cricket club and legislates for the game. This match was the great event of the season before inter-school matches were introduced. Page 337. When I came : the passage is from a sermon preached by Dr. Arnold in October, 1835. [438] NOTES Page 339. on Monday : our grandfathers were rather vague about medical matters. It would be no easy matter to name a dangerous fever which in spite of ' several cases ' was not infectious ; and it makes one wonder to hear that Arthur, after a desperate illness culminating in a ' crisis ' on the tenth day, is lying on a sofa by the open window on the thirteenth day ' almost well,' and travels the next day in an open carriage ! Page 340. pie-match : a pie-match was a match at the end of which the losers had to give the winners a ' feed.' Page 341. the twenty-two : the twenty-two players next best to the first eleven. dot and go one : the expression describes the gait of a man with a wooden leg, which makes the dot. Page 344. Don't gammon : don't talk nonsense. * Billy Taylor ' .• a very popular song of the period. Page 350. in Ezekiel : chap. i. Page 354. combes : deep, narrow valleys. cairngorm : a kind of yellow quartz found about Cairngorm, a mountain in Scotland. Tors : a name given to the rocky tops of hills on Dartmoor. Page 355. Tom's wicket: when he was playing cricket for practice. slow twisters : slow balls that twist when they pitch on the ground. Surrey heroes : Surrey was one of the earliest counties to take up cricket. CHAPTER VII Page 357. would have had the sack : would have been expelled. Page 358. old Momus : the nickname of some master. Momus was the Greek god of fault-finding. locus poenitentiae : an opportunity for repenting (of his resolve). Page 360. you Goth : the Goths were a barbarian tribe who invaded the Roman Empire and under Alaric sacked Rome in 410. churchwarden windows : churchwardens are parish officials part of whose duty is to look after the fabric of the church. In the days before the revival of interest in Gothic architecture they often made very ugly and unsuitable repairs and alterations ; hence this phrase. Sheridan Knowles : a well-known dramatist of the period, whose works have already passed into oblivion. [ 439 ] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS Page 362. came Old of Egypt : that is, renounced his old ways (alluding to the Exodus of the Israelites from Egypt). a snob : the word generally means an under-bred person who pretends to be well-bred : but here East uses it as a term of general contempt ; a modern boy would say ' a rotter.' Page 363. under the line : it is a stringent rule in boxing that no one is to hit ' below the belt.' Page 364. to hold a grampus : a grampus is a sea animal, like a por- poise but larger. It is now commonly called ' killer,' or ' killer whale.' Page 369. confirmed: after 'confirmation' by a bishop a person be- comes a full member of the Anglican Church. Page 371. uncovenanfed mercies : the mercies of God toward those outside the covenant, that is, not members of the Church. Page 373. the great grifn tnan : Dr. Arnold's nickname in the school was ' Black Tom.' CHAPTER VIII Page 376. the Crimea and distant India : the Crimean War was from 1853 to 1856; the very hard-fought Sikh wars, from 1845 to 1849; and wars in Sind and Burma in 1842 and 1852. Page 377. our own Rugby poet : Arthur Hugh Clough, 1819-1861. He was in the School-house from 1829 to 1837; he was a great friend of Matthew Arnold the poet, son of Dr. Arnold. Page 378. exhibitions : scholarships given by the school to boys who are going to the Universities. IVellesburn : a village near Stratford on Avon. Lord's giound : the ground of the M. C. C. in London. See note on Marylebone match (p. 438). Page 379. old Mr. Aislabie : Benjamin Aislabie was Honorary- Secretary of the M. C C. from 1822 to 1841. the Three Trees : see note on p. 437. BelTs Life : see note on p. 437. Page 380. Lawrence Sheriff: a native of Rugby. He migrated to London, where he set up a grocer's shop and prospered under Queen Elizabeth. He left property to found a school in his native place in i 567. Page 38 1 . took their places at the wicket : the account of the cricket match which follows is naturally full of technical term.s, which will [440] NOTES be familiar to those who know the game and will remain a mystery to those who have never seen it, in spite of any explanation which can be offered on paper. I shall therefore not attempt to give one. The game has developed in many ways since the days of Tom Brown, but is the same in all essentials. Page 383. slow cobs: the term 'cob' has disappeared in cricket; it meant a ball. ' Cob ' is an old word for a round lump. toppi7tg: a slang word for 'splendid.' Page 388. stumps must be drawn : the wickets are pulled out to show that the game is over. Page 389. m s ma// gardens : see note on is/atid fagging (^. 427). turf-cart: at the time of 'island fagging,' fags used to cut turf in the neighbouring fields and haul it to the island in a small cart. Page 393. such a defeat is a victory : in Tom Hughes' last match, played in the Close on June 17, 1841, the M. C. C. won by sixteen runs in the first innings, the School at the end of the day wanting fourteen runs with one wicket to fall. Page 394. snuggery : a snug, comfortable living room. a dripping-cake : a cake made with dripping (fat that drips off a joint of beef when it is being roasted) instead of butter. Page 395. King's Co/lege Chape/ : one of the most beautiful buildings in Cambridge University. Nestor: the oldest of the heroes who led the Greeks at the siege of Troy. Page 400. Thomas Carly/e himse/f : he alludes to Carlyle's famous lectures on ' Heroes and Hero-worship.' Page 402. was iti the train : the line from London to Birmingham, passing by Rugby, was built in 1839. The first train on it went at twenty miles an hour. CHAPTER IX Page 404. the heathery scrub which tnet the shingle : the rough heather-covered ground coming down to the pebbly beach. Corn Laws: the Corn Laws were laws which imposed duties on all grain entering the country; the object was to benefit the agricultural interest by keeping up the price of corn. They were naturally very unpopular in the manufacturing districts, and were finally abolished in 1846. r 441 ] TOM BROWN'S SCHOOL-DAYS the Goodwood : a famous horse-race run at Goodwood in Sussex. drawn : withdrawn from the entry. amiss : not in good condition. Page 407. the Caledonian Canal : this canal forms a great waterway across Scotland by linking the lochs which lie in the great rift between the Firth of Lome and the Moray Firth. Under the altar in the chapel : the present chapel is larger than the old one, and Arnold's grave lies at the foot of the chancel steps, marked by a plain stone engraved with his name. He is the only head master buried in the chapel, for the vaults which he had caused to be made were afterwards closed. Page 408. the gadfly in the Greek legends : the allusion is to the story of lo, who, being beloved by Zeus, was changed by Hera into a heifer and pursued by a gadfly. Page 411. the great painted window above the altar : it was brought by Dr. Arnold from Aerschot in Belgium at a time when that parish was selling some of the stained glass in order to raise funds to restore the church — the church which the Germans have now destroyed. It is a beautiful sixteenth-century window representing the Adoration of the Magi. who bore his name : Matthew Arnold's beautiful poem ' Rugby Chapel,' which is the finest of all tributes to his father's memory, was written in November, 1857, the year that 'Tom Brown' was published. [442 J University of California SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 305 De Neve Drive - Parking Lot 17 • Box 951388 LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA 90095-1388 Return this material to the library from which it was borrowed. ID- u( Fc 3 1158 00146 6530 V iiOUTH-. ■ 'C^ UJBtRARy UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY AA 000 374 447 l mi: mBy