How strange it all seemed! I had ridden down the previous day by the
Hastings coach, which had left me with my big box at the old inn at
Middlehurst. Here the fly had been ordered to take me the remaining ten
miles on to the school, where I had arrived just at dusk, and, after a
supper of bread and milk, I was shown my bed, one of six in a large
room, and made the acquaintance of Mercer, who, after pretty well
peppering me with questions, allowed me to go to sleep in peace, till
the bell rang at six, when I sprang out of bed, confused and puzzled at
finding myself there instead of at home. Then, as the reality forced
itself upon me, and I was scowled at by five sleepy boys, all in the
ill-humoured state caused by being obliged to get up before they
pleased, I hurriedly dressed, thinking that I could never settle down to
such a life as that, and wondering what my uncle and my mother would say
if I started off, went straight back, and told them I did not mean to
stop at school.
Everything looked cheerless and miserable, for there was a thick fog
outside, one which had been wafted over from the sea, so that there was
no temptation to go out, and, in spite of my low spirits, I was hungry
enough to make me long for breakfast.
This was laid for us in the schoolroom, to which the boys flocked, as
the big bell on the top of the building rang out again, and here I found
that there were two long tables, as I supposed, till I was warned about
being careful, when I found that they were not tables, but the double
school-desks with the lids of the boys' lockers propped up horizontal.
"And if you don't mind, down they come, and your breakfast goes outside
instead of in," said Mercer.
Milk and water and bread and butter, but they were good and plentiful,
and though I was disappointed at first, and began thinking of the hot
coffee at home, I made a better breakfast than I had expected; and in
due course, after a walk round the big building, of which I could see
nothing for the chilly fog, the bell rang again, and I had to hurry back
into the schoolroom, taking a seat pointed out for me by Mercer, with
the result related in the last chapter.
"Here, come along!" cried my new friend: "What a game! You are a good
chap. I wish a new boy would come every day. Hooray! old Rebble's off.
Bet sixpence he goes down to the river bottom-fishing. He never
catches anything. Goes and sits in his spectacles, blinking at his
float, and the roach come and give it a bob and are off again long
before he strikes. Hi yi yi yi!" he shouted; "here we are again!" and,
jumping on to the form and from there to the desk, he bent down, took
lightly hold of the sides, threw up his heels, and stood on his head.
"Here, look at old Mercer!" cried a boy.
"Bravo, Senna T!" cried another.
A dictionary flew across the room, struck the amateur acrobat in the
back, and fell on the floor, but not much more quickly than my new
friend went over backwards, the blow having made him overbalance so that
his feet came with a crash on the desk, the ink flew out of two little
leaden wells, and the performer rolled off on to the form, and then to
the floor, with a crash.
"Here!" he cried, springing up. "Who did that? Give me that book. Oh,
I know!" he cried, snatching the little fat dictionary, and turning over
the leaves quickly. "`Eely-hezer Burr.' Thanky, I wanted some paper.
I'm all over ink. What a jolly mess!"
As he spoke, he tore out three or four leaves, and began to wipe the ink
off his jacket.
"I say, Burr," cried the big boy who had read about Penelope, "Mercer's
tearing up your dictionary."
"You mind your own business!" cried Mercer, tearing out some more
leaves, and then throwing the book at the tale-teller just as the tall,
thin boy, who bore the same name as I, came striding up with his face
flushed and fists doubled, to plant three or four vigorous blows in
Mercer's chest and back.
"How dare you tear my book?" he cried. "Here, you, fat Dicksee, bring
it here."
"Thought you meant me to use it," cried Mercer, taking the blows
good-humouredly enough. "Oh, I say, don't! you hurt!"
"Mischievous beggar!" said my senior taking the book and marching off.
"Go on! Ask your father to buy you a new one," cried Mercer derisively,
as he applied a piece of blotting-paper to one leg of his trousers.
"Hiss! Goose!"
"Do you wish me to come back and thrash you, Tom Mercer," said the tall
boy, with a lordly manner.
"No, sir, thank-ye, sir; please don't, and I'll never do so no more,
sir."
"Miserable beggar," said Burr major. "Here, Dicksee, come down the
field and bowl for me. Bring five or six little uns to field."
"Yah! Tailor!" said Mercer, as his bully marched out.
"I'll tell him what you said," cried Dicksee.
"Hullo, Penny loaf! you there? Yes, you'd better tell him. Just you
come to me for some physic, and you'll see how I'll serve you."
"Don't ketch me taking any of your stuff again," cried the big, fat,
sneering-looking fellow. "I'll tell him, and you'll see."
"Go and tell him then," said Mercer contemptuously. "So he is a tailor,
and his father's a tailor. Why, I saw his name on a brass plate in Cork
Street."
"So's your father got his name on a brass plate," sneered Dicksee.
"Well, what of that? My father's a professional gentleman. Here, come
on, Burr, and I'll show you round. Hooray! the sun's come through the
mist. Where's your cap? All right. You'll have to get a square
trencher by next Sunday. This way."
He led me out into the big playground, and turned.
"Ain't a bad house, is it? Some big lord used to live here, and Magglin
says his father says it was empty for years, and it was sold cheap at
last to the Doctor, who only used to have four boys at first."
"Who's Magglin?"
"Ha, ha!" laughed Mercer; "he calls himself a gardener because he comes
here to help dig, but I know: he's a poacher, that's what he is. You
ask Hopley."
"But I don't know Hopley," I said, laughing.
"You soon will. He's General Rye's keeper. I buy birds off him to
stuff."
"What, geese?" I said, as I recalled that my companion spoke about a
goose just before.
"Geese? no. Magpies and jays and hawks. I stuff 'em with tow; I'll
show you how. Old Hopley says Magglin's a rank poacher, and first time
he catches him on their grounds he'll pull him up before his master, you
know. General's a magistrate. But he won't catch him. Magg's too
artful. I say, got any money?"
"Yes, I have some," I said.
"That's right. Don't you spend it. You save up same as I am. Magg's
got a gun I want to buy of him. He says he won't sell it, but I know
better. He will when we offer him enough. I did offer him ten
shillings, but he laughed at me. I say!"
"Yes."
"It's such a beauty. Single barrel, with a flint lock, so that it never
wants no caps, and it comes out of the stock quite easy, and the barrel
unscrews in the middle, and the ramrod too, so that you can put it all
in your pocket, and nobody knows that you're carrying a gun."
"But what's the good of a gun here at school?"
"What? Oh, you don't know because it's all new to you. Why, there are
hares in the fields, and pheasants in the coppices, and partridges in
the hop-gardens, and the rabbits swarm in the hill-sides down toward the
sea."
"But you don't shoot!"
"Not much, because I have no gun, only a pistol, and it don't carry
straight. I did nearly hit a rabbit, though, with it."
"But can you get away shooting?"
"Can I? Should think I can. We have all sorts of fun down here. Can
you fish?"
"I went once," I said, "on the river."
"But you didn't catch anything," said Mercer, grinning.
"No," I said; "I don't think I had a bite."
"Not you. Just you wait a bit, I'll take you fishing. There's the
river where old Rebble goes, and the mill-pond where old Martin gives me
leave, and a big old hammer pond out in the middle of General Rye's
woods where nobody gives me leave, but I go. It's full of great carp
and tench and eels big as boa-constrictors."
"Oh, come!" I said.
"I didn't say big boa-constrictors, did I? there's little ones, I
daresay. Here we are. That's Magglin--didn't know he was here to-day."
He pointed out a rough, shambling-looking young man down the great
kitchen garden into which he had led me. This gentleman was in his
coat, and he was apparently busy doing nothing with a hoe, upon which he
rested himself, and took off a very ragged fur cap to wipe his brow as
we came up, saluting us with a broad grin.
"Hallo, Magg! you here? This is the new boy, Burr."
"Nay," said the man in a harsh, saw-sharpening voice, "think I don't
know better than that? That aren't Master Burr."
"No, not that one. This is the new one. This is Burr junior."
"Oh, I see," said the man. "Mornin', Mr Burr juner. Hope I see you
well, sir?"
"Oh, he's all right," said Mercer. "Give him a penny to buy a screw of
tobacco, Frank."
I gave the required coin, and Mr Magglin spat on it, spun it in the
air, caught it, and placed it in his pocket.
"Thank-ye," he said.
"Got any birds for me?"
"Nay, nary one; but I knows of a beauty you'd give your ears to get."
"What is it?" cried Mercer eagerly.
"All bootiful green, with a head as red as carrots."
"Get out! Gammon! Think I don't know better than that? He means a
parrot he's seen in its cage."
"Nay, I don't," said the man. "I mean a big woodpecker down in Squire
Hawkus Rye's woods."
"Oh, Magg: get it for me!"
"Nay, I dunno as I can. Old Hopley's on the look-out for me, and if I
was to shoot that there bird, he'd swear it was a fezzan."
"Perhaps it is," said Mercer, laughing.
"Nay, not it, my lad," said the man, with a sly-looking smile. "If it
was a fezzan I shouldn't bring it to you."
"Why not? I should like to stuff it."
"Daresay you would, my lad, but if I did that, somebody would stuff me."
"Ha, ha!" laughed Mercer. "You'd look well in a glass case, Magg."
"Shouldn't look well in prison," said the man, laughing. "Why, what'd
become o' the Doctor's taters?"
"Oh, bother the taters. I say, what about that gun, Magg?"
"What about what gun?" said the man softly, as he gave a sharp glance
round.
"Get out! You know."
"Whish!" said the man. "Don't you get thinking about no guns. I
wouldn't ha' showed it to you if I'd known. Why, if folks knew I had a
gun, there'd be no end of bother, so don't you say nothing about it
again."
"Well, then, sell it to me. Burr here's going to join me."
The man gave me a quick glance, and shook his head. "I don't sell
guns," he said.
"Then will you shoot that woodpecker for me?"
"Nay, I mustn't shoot, they'd say I was a poacher. I'll try and get it
for you, though, only it'll be a shilling."
"Can't afford more than ninepence, Magg."
"Ninepence it is then; I don't want to be hard on a young gentleman."
"But if it's all knocked to pieces and covered with blood, I shall only
give you sixpence."
"Oh, this'll be all right, sir."
"When shall you shoot it?"
"Ha'n't I told you I aren't going to shoot it?"
"How will you get it, then?"
"Put some salt on its tail," said the man grinning. "Get out! Here, I
say, could we catch some tench in the mill-pond to-day?"
"Mebbe yes, mebbe no."
"Well, we're going to try. You have some worms ready for me--a
penn'orth."
"Tuppence, sir."
"A penny. Why, you've just had a penny for nothing."
"All right, master. Going?"
"Yes, I'm showing him round," said Mercer. "Come along, Burry, we'll go
and see old Lomax now."
He led the way out of the kitchen garden, and round by a field where the
Doctor's Alderney cows were grazing, then through a shrubbery to the
back of the thatched cottage I had dimly seen as the fly drove by the
previous night.
"Left, right! Three quarters half face. As you never were. Left
counter-jumper march! Halt stare at pease!"
All this was shouted by Mercer as we approached the cottage door, and
had the effect of bringing out a stiff-looking, sturdy, middle-aged man
with a short pipe in his mouth, which he removed, carried one hand to
his forehead in a salute, and then stood stiff and erect before us,
looking sharply at me.
"Mornin', gentlemen," he said.
"Morning," cried Mercer. "'Tention! Parade for introductions. This is
Field-Marshal Commander-in-Chief Drill-master and Riding-master Lomax.
This is Burr junior, new boy, come to see you. I say, Lom, he's going
to be a soldier. His father was a soldier in India. He was killed at
what's-its-name?--Chilly winegar."
"Eh?" cried the old soldier. "Glad to see you, sir. Shake hands, and
welcome to your new quarters. Come inside."
"No, not now, I'm showing him round. We'll come another time, and bring
you some tobacco, and you shall tell us the story about the fight with
the Indian rajahs."
"To be sure I will, lads. Where are you going now?"
"Going? Let's see. Oh, I know. We'll go to Polly Hopley's."
"Ah, I suppose so. You boys are always going to Polly Hopley's.
Good-bye."
He shook hands with us, then drew himself up and saluted us
ceremoniously, and, as I glanced back, I could see him still standing
upright in his erect, military fashion.
"You'll like old As-you-were," said Mercer, as we went on, now along the
road. "The Doctor got hold of him cheap, and he does all sorts of
things. Cuts and nails the trees, and goes messages to the town. He's
a splendid chap to get things for you."
"But may we go right away like this?" I said, as I saw we were now far
from the grounds.
"Oh yes, to-day. He's very strict at other times, and we have to get
leave when we want to go out, but this is free day, and I want to show
you everything because you're new. Nobody showed me anything. I had to
find it all out, and I was so jolly miserable at first that I made up my
mind to run away and go back home."
"But you did not?" I said eagerly, for, though I felt better now in the
interest of meeting fresh people and learning something about the place,
I could fully appreciate his words.
"No, I didn't," he said thoughtfully. "You see, I knew I must come to
school, and if I ran away from this one, if I hadn't been sent back, I
should have been sent back to another one, and there would have been
whackings at home, and they would have hurt my mother, who always hated
to see me have it, though I always deserved it: father said so. Then
there would have been whackings here, and they'd have hurt me, so I made
up my mind to stay."
"That was wise," I said, laughing.
"Oh, I don't know," he replied, wrinkling up his face; "the cane only
hurts you outside, and it soon goes off, but being miserable hurts you
inside, and lasts ever so long. I say, don't you be miserable about
coming away from home. You'll soon get over it, and there's lots of
things to see. Look there," he cried, stopping at the edge of the road,
"you can see the sea here. The doctor will give us leave to go some
day, and we shall bathe. There it is. Don't look far off, does it? but
it's six miles. But we've got a bathing pool, too. See those woods?"
"Yes," I said, as I gazed over the beautiful expanse of hill and dale,
with a valley sweeping right away to the glittering sea.
"Those are the General's, where the pheasants are, and if you look
between those fir-trees you can just get a peep of the hammer pond where
the big eels are."
"Yes, I can see the water shining in the sun," I said eagerly.
"Yes, that's it; and those fields where you see the tall poles dotted
over in threes and fours are--I say, did you ever see hops?"
"Yes, often," I said; "great, long, tight, round sacks piled-up on
waggons."
"Yes, that's how they go to market. I mean growing?"
"No."
"Those are hops, then, climbing up the poles. That's where the
partridges get. Oh, I say, I wish old Magg would sell us that gun.
We'd go halves in buying it, and I'd play fair; you should shoot just as
often as I did."
"But he will not sell it," I said.
"Oh, he will some day, when he wants some money."
"And what would Doctor Browne do if he knew?"
"Smug it!" said Mercer, with a comical look, "when he knew. Look! see
that open ground there with the clump of fir-trees and the long slope of
sand going down to that hollow place!"
"Yes."
"Rabbits, and blackberries. Such fine ones when they're ripe! And just
beyond there, at the sandy patch at the edge of the wood, snakes!--big
ones, too. I'm going to catch one and stuff it."
"But can you?"
"I should think so--badly, you know, but I'm getting better. I had to
find all this out that I'm telling you, but perhaps you don't care about
it, and want to go back to the cricket-field?"
"No, no," I cried; "I do like it."
"That's right. If we went back we should only have to bowl for old
Eely. Everybody has to bowl for him, and he thinks he's such a dabster
with the bat, but he's a regular muff. Never carried the bat out in his
life. Like hedgehogs?"
"Well, I don't know," I said. "They're so prickly."
"Yes; but they can't help it, poor things. There's lots about here.
Wish we could find one now, we'd take it back and hide it in old Eely's
bed. I don't know though, it wouldn't be much fun now, because he'd
know directly that I did it. I say, you never saw a dog with a
hedgehog. Did you?"
"No," I said.
"It's the finest of fun. Piggy rolls himself up tight like a ball, and
Nip,--that's Magg's dog, you know,--he tries to open him, and pricks his
nose, and dances round him and barks, but it's no good, piggy knows
better than to open out. I've had three. Magg gets them for me. He
told me for sixpence how he got them."
"And how's that?" I said, eager to become a master in all this
woodcraft.
"Why, you catch a hedgehog first."
"Yes," I said, "but how?"
Mercer looked at me, and rubbed his ear.
"Oh, that is only the first one," he said hurriedly.
"But you must know how to catch the first one first."
"Oh, I say, don't argue like that. It is like doing propositions in
Euclid. You have to begin with one hedgehog, that's an axiom. Then you
take him in your pocket."
"Doesn't it prick?" I said.
"Oh, I don't know. How you keep interrupting! And you go out at night
when it's full moon, and then go and sit down on a felled tree right in
the middle of an open place in the wood. You get a bit of stick, a
rough bit, and take hold of piggy's foot and rub his hind leg with the
stick."
"But suppose he curls up," I said.
"Oh, bother! Don't! How am I to tell you? You mustn't let him curl
up. You rub his hind leg with the stick, and then he begins to sing."
"Oh, come!" I said, bursting out laughing.
"Well, squeal, then, ever so loud, and the louder he squeals, the harder
you must rub."
"But it hurts him."
"Oh, not much. What's a hedgehog that he isn't to be hurt a bit! Boys
get hurt pretty tidy here when the Doctor's cross. Well, as soon as he
squeals out, all the hedgehogs who hear him come running to see what's
the matter, and you get as many as you like, and put 'em in a hutch, but
you mustn't keep live things here, only on the sly. I had so many, the
Doctor put a stop to all the boys keeping things, rabbits, and white
mice, and all. That's why I stuff."
"What is?"
"Because you can keep frogs, and jays, and polecats, and snakes, and
anything, and they don't want to be fed."
"What a nice cottage!" I said suddenly, as we came upon a red-brick,
red-tiled place, nearly all over ivy.
"Yes, that's Polly Hopley's--and hi! there goes old Hopley."
A man in a closely fitting cap and brown velveteen jacket, who was going
down the road, faced round, took a gun from off his shoulder and placed
it under his arm.
He was a big, burly, black-whiskered man, with brown face and dark eyes,
and he showed his white teeth as he came slowly to meet us.
"Well, Master Mercer?" he said. "Why ain't you joggryfing?"
"Whole holiday. New boy. This is him. Burr junior, this is Bob
Hopley, General's keeper. Chuck your cap up in the air, and he'll make
it full of shot-holes. He never misses."
"Oh yes, I do," said the keeper, shaking his head; "and don't you do as
he says. Charge of powder and shot's too good to be wasted."
"Oh, all right. I say, got anything for me?"
"No, not yet. I did knock over a hawk, but I cut his head off."
"What for? With your knife?"
"No-o-o! Shot. You shall have the next. Don't want a howl, I s'pose?"
"Yes, yes, a white one. Do shoot one for me, there's a good chap."
"Well, p'raps I may. I know where there's a nest."
"Do you? Oh, where?" cried Mercer. "I want to see one, so does he--
this chap here."
"Well, it's in the pigeon-cote up agen Dawson's oast-house, only he
won't have 'em touched."
"What a shame!"
"Says they kills the young rats and mice. Like to go and see it?"
"Yes."
"Well, I'm going round by Rigg's Spinney, and I'll meet you at the farm
gates. Jem Roff'll let you go up if I ask him."
"How long will you be?"
"Hour! Don't forget!"
"Just as if we should!" cried Mercer, as the keeper shouldered his gun
again and marched off. "It's rather awkward, though."
"What is?" I said.
"Being friends with Magglin and Bob Hopley too, because they hate each
other awfully. But then, you see, it means natural history, don't it?"