"And I suppose you are not aware that the barber who tried to take you
down the stairs is now in the hospital with an abscess on his leg, the
result of the kick you gave him?"
"Oh, I can't have done it, uncle--oh, uncle!"
And here I was so overwhelmed with the vision of my enormities and their
possible consequences that I became hysterical, and Mrs Hudson was
summoned to the rescue.
The fact was, in the account of the fray I appear to have got credit for
all the terrible deeds that were there done; and I, Master Freddy
Batchelor, was, it appeared, notorious in the village as having been
guilty of a savage and felonious assault upon one C. Prog, of having
also assaulted and almost "manslaughtered" Miss Prog the younger, and
further of having dealt with my feet against the shin of one Moppleton,
a barber, in such manner as to render him incapable of pursuing his
ordinary avocations, and being chargeable on the parish infirmary;
besides sundry and divers damage to carpets, crockery, glass, doorposts,
kerb-stones, and the jacket of the aforesaid C. Prog. On the whole,
when I arose from my bed and stepped once more into the outer world, I
found myself a very atrocious character indeed.
At home I was in disgrace, and abroad I was not allowed to wander beyond
my uncle's garden, except to church on Sunday under a heavy escort. So
on the whole I had not a very good time of it. My uncle was
terrifically glum, and appeared to think it most audacious if ever I
chanced to laugh or sing or express any sentiment but deep grief and
contrition in his presence. Mrs Hudson read me long lectures about the
evil of slaying small children and laming barbers, and I was
occasionally moved to tears at the thought of my own iniquities. But at
the age of twelve it is hard to take upon oneself the settled gloom of
an habitual criminal, and I was forced to let out at times and think of
other things besides my wicked ways. I got let off school--that was one
alleviation to my woe--and being free of the garden I had plenty of
opportunity of letting off the steam. But it was slow work, as I have
said; and I was really relieved when, a week or two afterwards, my uncle
made the announcement with which this chapter begins.
How I fared, first at Stonebridge House, and subsequently in the City
Life for which it was meant to train me, will be the theme of this
particular veracious history.