Ours was a capital school, though it was not a public one. It was not
far from London, so that a coach could carry us down there in little
more than an hour from the _White Horse Cellar_, Piccadilly. On the top
of the posts, at each side of the gates, were two eagles; fine large
birds I thought them. They looked out on a green, fringed with tall
elms, beyond which was our cricket-field. A very magnificent red-brick
old house rose behind the eagles, full of windows belonging to our
sleeping-rooms. The playground was at the back of the house, with a
grand old tulip tree in the centre, a tectum for rainy weather on one
side, and the large school room on the other. Beyond was a good-sized
garden, full of apple and pear trees, but, as we very seldom went into
it, I do not remember its appearance. Perhaps, were I to see the place
again, I might find its dimensions somewhat altered. The master was a
first-rate schoolmaster. What his attainments were, I cannot say; but
he understood managing boys admirably. He kept us all in very good
order, had us fairly taught, fed us with wholesome, if not luxurious,
food, and, though he used his cane freely, treated us justly. We held
him in awe, and yet we liked him.
It was after the summer holidays, when I had just got back, I heard that
three new boys had come. In the afternoon they all appeared in the
playground. They were strangers to each other as well as to us, but
their similarity of fate drew them together. One was a slightly made,
dark, and somewhat delicate-looking boy; another was a sturdy little
fellow, with a round, ruddy countenance, and a jovial, good-natured
expression in it, yet he did not look as if he would stand any nonsense;
the third was rather smaller than the other two, a pleasant-looking
fellow, and though his eyes were red with crying, he seemed to be
cutting some joke which made his companions laugh. He had come all the
way from Ireland, we heard, and his elder brother had that morning left
him and gone back home, and that made him unhappy just then. He at once
got the name of Paddy in the school. He did not mind it. His real name
was Terence Adair, so sometimes he was called Paddy Adair.
"I say, you fellow, what's your name?" asked a biggish boy of the
stoutest of the three new-comers.
"Jack Rogers," was the answer, given in a quiet tone.
"I don't believe it," replied the big boy, who was known as Bully
Pigeon; "it's such a rum name."
"I'll make you believe it, and remember it too," exclaimed the
new-comer, eyeing the other from head to foot, and walking firmly up to
him, with his lips closed, while he moved his head slowly from side to
side. "I tell you my name is Jack Rogers--Now!"
The bully did not say a word. He looked as if he would have liked to
have hit, but Paddy Adair had followed his new friend, and was evidently
about to join in the fray if it was once begun; so the big boy thought
better of it. He would gain no credit for attacking a little fellow the
first day of his coming. There were many witnesses of the scene, and
Jack was unanimously pronounced to be a plucky little chap. Pigeon,
defeated in one direction, turned his attention to the first-named boy,
who had scarcely moved since he entered the playground, but kept looking
round with his large black eyes on the scene before him, which was
evidently strange to his sight.
"What are you called, I should like to know?" he asked in a rude tone.
"Alick Murray," was the answer, in a quiet, gentlemanly voice.
"Then you come from Scotland, I suppose?" said the bully.
"Yes, I do," replied the former.
"Oh! I wonder your mamma would let you go away from her," observed the
big boy, with a sneer.
"My mamma is just dead," answered Murray, in a mild tone, a tear
springing to his eye.
"Shame! shame!" shouted the voices of several boys who had come up;
among them that of Jack Rogers was the loudest.
"I didn't mean to say anything to hurt him," said the bully, sneaking
away. "I'll pay you off for this some day," he muttered as he passed
Jack.
Jack looked after him and laughed.
"He'll have two to fight if he tries it, mind that," said Adair to his
new friend.
Jack thanked him, but said that he should soon be able to tackle him, if
he could not just now. He would try at all events.
"That's it," cried Terence enthusiastically. "That's just what I like.
If you are knocked down you can but get up again and try once more."
"So my papa says," observed Jack. "He's a first-rate father, let me
tell you. He never would let any of us give in except to himself. He
used to throw us into a pond, and tell us to swim, and unless we had
actually been drowning, nothing would have made him help us; so we all
very soon learned, and now there isn't a chap of my size I wouldn't swim
against. We live down in Northamptonshire. My papa has a place there.
We are all very jolly. There are a number of us, sisters and brothers.
You must come down and see them some holidays. You'll like them, I
know. There's no nonsense about them."
Terence said he should like it very much, if he did not go back to
Ireland. He had three brothers and a sister, but they were all older
than himself. His papa was the Honourable Mr Adair, and he had an
uncle, Lord Derrynane. He did not know whether they were rich or not.
They lived in a big house, and had a number of servants, and people were
constantly coming and going; so he supposed they were. The truth was,
as I heard afterwards, they were living a great deal too fast, and
Terence had nothing left as his share of his father's property, except,
as he said, his debts. That, however, was no fault of his.
"I say," observed Jack, "don't let us leave that poor fellow alone any
longer. He seems very low-spirited about his mother. It's natural, you
know; though I don't like to see a fellow blubbering just because he has
hurt himself, or lost a peg-top, or anything of that sort."
So they went up to Alick Murray, and began talking to him, and Terence
said something funny and made him laugh.
"I wonder what games they have here?" asked Jack.
"Coach-and-horses," said a biggish fellow, who had just entered the
playground with some long strips of leather over his arm and a whip in
his hand. "Now, if you three fellows will just be harnessed, you'll
make a very good unicorn."
They all looked at each other, and as the big boy spoke in a
good-natured tone, they agreed to do as he wished. Jack and Alick were
harnessed together; Terence insisted on going as unicorn.
"I say, though," cried Jack, looking back; "what are you called? I
always like to know the name of the driver."
"Ben Trotter when I'm not called Master Benjamin Trotter," was the
answer.
"Not a bad name for a coachman," observed Jack, beginning to prance and
kick about. He got a cut with the whip in return for his remark.
Terence reared and neighed, and kicked about furiously all the time,
like a high-mettled steed who wanted to be off; and at last, Trotter
having got the ribbons adjusted to his satisfaction, away they all went
round the playground at a great rate, looking with great disdain on
those boys who had only got string for harness. Thus were the three
new-comers first yoked in fellowship. They were very much together ever
afterwards, though they also had their own especial friends. Murray and
Rogers were the most constant to each other. Murray was a studious,
gentle boy. He had more talent than Jack; that is to say, he did his
lessons a great deal better, and never got into any scrapes. Jack never
picked a quarrel, but he now and then got into one, and was apt in his
lessons to give a false quantity, and sometimes a translation of his
Caesar which put him down to the bottom of the class. Murray was always
ready and able to help him, but Jack was not a fellow who would consent
to trust to the help of another. When he really tried, he could always
do his work, and very creditably too. Adair, unlike his friends, was
nearly always getting into trouble. He would not think enough about
consequences. Once he and others had been letting off fireworks of
their own manufacture in a remote corner of the playground. Notice was
given that an usher was coming. They threw away their combustibles, and
fled. Terence, however, had a piece of lighted touch-paper, which, in
his hurry, he shoved into his pocket. It was already full of a similar
preparation. He was caught and hauled away into the schoolroom to
receive condign punishment. He tried to look very innocent, and
requested to know why he was dragged along so unceremoniously. Paddy,
under no circumstances, ever lost his politeness. Unhappily for him
just as he reached the door the proofs of his guilt became apparent.
Streams of smoke and sparks burst out of his pockets, and the master had
to pull out the burning paper to prevent him from being seriously
injured. As to his lessons he very frequently was at the top of his
class, but he never could manage to keep there many days together. For
some neglect or other, he soon again lost his place. Still he was a
general favourite. Even the masters could not help liking him. The
three new boys were put into one room. They slept there for several
halves. On one occasion Terence had kept away a good deal from Jack and
Murray, and associated more than was his custom with several of the less
nice boys. Among them was Pigeon, the bullying fellow. I happened to
be awake one night, when, by the pale moonlight which streamed in at the
windows, I saw Paddy Adair sit up in his bed and look about him. Pigeon
and another biggish fellow did the same. They signed to each other, and
slipping on their clothes, crept with their shoes in their hands out of
the room. I could not go to sleep, wondering what had become of them.
Jack Rogers slept near me. He likewise had seen what had occurred.
They were absent about half an hour. They returned as noiselessly as
they had gone out, and crept into bed again, of course thinking that no
one had observed them. No sooner was the door closed than there was a
strong smell of apples in the room, and presently "crunch! crunch!
crunch!" was heard.
"Those fellows have been stealing old Rowley's apples, now," thought
Jack; "and that donkey Paddy Adair has, I'd bet, been heading the
party."
He felt as if he were a spy by not letting them know that he was awake,
so he sat up and said, "Hillo! you fellows, what have you been about?"
"Is that you awake, Jack?" answered Adair. "Never mind, we've had great
fun. Have an apple, will you?"
"No, thank you," said Jack, "I'd rather not;" laying considerable
emphasis on the last words.
"He doesn't deserve one as he hadn't the pluck to go and get them," said
a voice from under the bedclothes.
"Who says that?" exclaimed Jack, sitting up in bed.
"Why, I say you would have been afraid to go and do what we have done,"
answered Bully Pigeon, summoning up more courage than was his wont.
"Afraid!" exclaimed Jack, springing out of bed and slipping on his
trousers. "Afraid of what? Afraid of stealing? Afraid of telling a
lie I am; but I'm not afraid of _you, you thief_, I can tell you."
Even Bully Pigeon could not stand this. Unless he would be jeered at
and called sneak ever afterwards by all the little boys in the school,
he felt that he must retaliate. He jumped up and sprang at Jack, aiming
a blow, which, if the latter had not slipped aside, would have knocked
him over. Jack, notwithstanding this, sprang back, and put himself on
his defence, not only warding off the next blow Pigeon struck, but
planting another between his eyes, which brought fire into them with a
vengeance.
This enraged the bully, who came thundering down on Jack with all his
might, and would have wellnigh crushed him, but Pigeon found a new
assailant in the field whom he did not expect--one of his own party. It
was Paddy Adair.
"I can't stand that, and I won't," he exclaimed, aiming a blow at
Pigeon's head which sent him backwards; while Alick Murray, who had
likewise jumped up, appeared on the other side of him.
"We are thieves, I tell you; we've been stealing old Rowley's apples,
and Jack Rogers is right," cried Terence.
"A very true remark, boys," said a deep voice which all recognised full
well. The door opened, and old Rowley himself, habited in his
dressing-gown, with a candle in one hand and a birch in the other,
appeared at the entrance, followed by good kind Mrs Jones, the
housekeeper. Every one scuttled away to their beds as fast as they
could go, except Alick Murray and Terence. Murray was the first Rowley
laid hands on, and, putting down his candle on the mantelpiece, he was
about to make use of his birch. Murray disdained to utter a word which
might inculpate others, and I knew he would have received a flogging
without complaint, but Terence cried out, "No, no, it wasn't him--I was
one of them--flog me if you like."
"Well, get into bed," answered Rowley, in a voice which did not sound as
if he was very angry. "You two have the spoils upon you, however;"
saying this, he went to the beds of Bully Pigeon and the other big
fellow, and gave them as sound a flogging as they ever had in their
lives, while Mrs Jones retired to a little distance, though I believe
she always came in the hopes of softening the vigour of the master's
arm. He went round to the other rooms, and treated the rest of the
culprits in the same way, and we had reason to suspect that he had
watched the whole party as they returned from their marauding
expedition. All the culprits were sent to Coventry the next day for a
week, except Terence, who had however led the expedition, though he did
not plan it. "I have great respect for the person who is not afraid to
call a thief a thief, or a lie by its right name," said Rowley not long
afterwards, looking significantly at Terence.
Time sped on, we were getting up in the school, new boys were coming and
old ones were going away, when the first night after our return from the
Christmas holidays, we all lay awake talking of our adventures.
"This is my last half," said Jack; "I've made up my mind to be a sailor,
and my father says I may; and an admiral, a friend of ours, has promised
to get me a ship; and so it's all settled, and I'm going."
"Are you, old fellow? how capital!" exclaimed Terence. "I've been asked
if I would go to sea, and I said yes; for there's nothing else I want to
do that I know of, but I little thought you would be going too. Well,
that is good, and clenches the matter."
"I am very glad to hear it," cried Murray; "it is what I have been
longing to do for years past, almost since I could read. The only
profession I felt that I should ever like was the navy, but I never saw
a chance till these holidays of being able to go into it. I believe it
is settled; I shall know shortly, I hope."
"What, are we all three going? how capital! What fun we will have,"
cried Jack. "Of course they'll let you. Oh, hang it, you must go with
us." Murray seldom talked much of what he wished to do, or expressed
his feelings, except perhaps to a trusted friend like Jack, but of the
three companions he had probably the strongest will, and when he had set
his mind on an object, no one could exert himself more resolutely to
accomplish it. He wrote and wrote to his friends, expressing his wish
in as strong terms as he could, giving many excellent reasons for having
formed it. Before many weeks had passed, Murray received a letter. The
contents would have made Jack and Terence throw up their caps and shout,
had they under similar circumstances received it. He felt a choking
sensation, and the tears sprang to his eyes. All his long-cherished
hopes were about to be accomplished. He had the promise from the First
Lord of the Admiralty of an appointment speedily to a ship. The half
came to an end, the school broke up, and the boys separated with all
animosities and quarrels sunk in oblivion; and in the belief that they
should meet each other again soon, if not at school, somewhere or other.
Jack went home, and was then sent, by the advice of his naval friend,
to an academy at Portsmouth, where young gentlemen were prepared for the
navy. Jack wanted to become a real sailor, so he set to work manfully
to stow away all the navigation he could pick up. He soon also made
himself known and respected among his companions, much in the same way
that he had done at his old school. At last he heard that he was
appointed to a ship, but that he was to go home before joining to take
leave. He was first to go to Selby the tailor, to get measured for his
outfit.
"You'll like to have your uniform at once, sir," observed Mr Selby;
"most young gentlemen do." Jack thought it would be very nice, as his
best clothes were already shabby; so in an incredibly short space of
time he found himself exactly fitted in his naval habiliments with a
dirk by his side, and a gold-lace cap. He did not like to wear them in
the street, "lest he should appear conspicuous," he observed to a
schoolfellow, so he did not put them on till he was ready to start in
the morning by the coach up to London. He had got leave to go down to
Eagle House to visit his former master and old schoolfellows, and how
grand he looked as he walked up and down the playground, handling his
dirk. Even Pigeon felt a great respect for him, and looked on him with
somewhat an eye of envy, and thought he should like to go into the navy.
Had he gone, he would have had to learn many a lesson, or would very
soon have been kicked out of it again. Jack dined at the master's table
at one end of the long dining-room, and good Mrs Jones looked at him
very proudly, for she had always thought him one of her best boys; and
many an eye gazed wistfully at his anchor buttons and dirk and smiling
jovial countenance, as he laughed and chatted with wonderful ease with
old Rowley, as if he was not a bit afraid of him; and some idle fellows
envied him his emancipation from Virgil and Horace, and other classical
authors, for whom they had so little affection themselves. Then he had
to jump up and hurry off to catch the coach, in order to reach the mail,
which was to carry him down that night to Northamptonshire. Jack could
obtain no certain information about Murray and Adair, but old Rowley
told him he understood they had already been sent to sea. Jack spent
three very jolly days at home. He had a big trunk filled with all sorts
of things which he was to stow away in his chest. Then the moment came
for parting--the family were not much addicted to crying, not that they
did not love each other very much. Jack's little sister Lucy cried the
most. He promised to write to her, and she promised to write to him and
tell him about everybody and everything, and the horses and dogs, and
something very like a tear came into his eyes, and a difficulty of
speaking to which he was not accustomed, as he gave her his last kiss.
Just then, Admiral Triton, Jack's naval friend, drove up to the door,
and by a mighty effort all traces of his feelings were banished--not
that the Admiral would have thought the worse of him a bit on account of
them. The Admiral was of the old school. He had one leg, the other
being supplied by what looked remarkably like a mop-stick. His
appearance was somewhat rough, especially when he went out in rainy
weather, and his countenance was not a little battered, but his heart
was as tender and almost as simple as Jack's or even Lucy's for that
matter. He had insisted on taking Jack to Portsmouth and seeing him on
board. "It will be an advantage to the youngster perhaps, and, besides,
it will freshen me up a bit myself," he observed to Jack's father; "so
say no more about it, neighbour Rogers."
On their arrival at Portsmouth they went to the _George_, and the
Admiral then took Jack to try on the rest of his kit.
"And I say, Mr Selby," observed the Admiral, "just shake the reefs out
of the youngster's clothes at once, will you; why you would stop his
growth if you were to swaddle him up in that way."
"Certainly, Admiral; but young gentlemen nowadays fancy well-fitting
trousers," observed the tailor.
"And tight-pinching shoes, which will give them corns, and prevent them
stepping out like men," observed the Admiral; "but though they are
silly, wiser people should not humour them."
Leaving Jack with the tailor, who was really a very trustworthy man,
Admiral Triton stumped down to the well-known Point, to have a look
about him, as he said. While he was standing there, with his hands in
his old pea-coat pocket, gazing out on the harbour, and thinking of
bygone days and many an event of his youth connected with that place, a
man-of-war's boat ran in among the wherries, and a youngster sprang out
of her, a small portmanteau being afterwards handed to him.
"Hillo, my man! if you're inclined to gain a shilling, just carry this
up to the _George_ for me, will you?" exclaimed the midshipman,
addressing the rough-looking, one-legged seaman he saw before him. The
Admiral was so tickled with the notion, that without saying a word he
touched his hat, and taking the portmanteau, stumped off with it,
followed by the owner. Two waiters were standing at the door of the
_George_. When they saw the Admiral they hurried forward.
"Pray, Admiral, let me help you in with that thing," they exclaimed
eagerly. At the same moment up came Jack. He burst into a jovial fit
of laughter. There before him stood Terence Adair, in midshipman's
uniform, the very picture of dismay.
"Oh, sir, I beg your pardon, I did not know you were an Admiral!" he
exclaimed. Just then he caught the eye of Jack, who had gone up to the
Admiral. Paddy's countenance brightened a little. "How lucky!" he
added. "Do apologise for me, Jack."
"Well, well, but I say, youngster, you are not going to do me out of my
shilling; just hand me that, at all events," said the Admiral, laughing.
"Another time save your money, and carry your shirt-collars yourself."
Terence, fumbling in his pocket, produced the coin, which the Admiral
bestowed on an old blind man who was passing at the moment. Jack and
Terence shook hands heartily. A look from the first assured the other
that he need not have the slightest fear of the consequences of his
mistake.
"What ship do you belong to, youngster?" asked the Admiral.
"The _Racer_, sir," said Terence; "she's a fine frigate--there's not
another like her in the service." The Admiral looked approvingly when
he heard the remark.
"Why, she's my ship," exclaimed Jack, "though I haven't joined yet."
"Yours, Jack! how capital!" cried Terence in a tone of delight; "well,
that is fortunate." The Admiral seemed much amused at the meeting of
the two friends. Terence had come on shore to see his relative Lord
Derrynane, whom Admiral Triton knew; and they all dined together, and
the next day the Admiral accompanied the two lads on board their ship,
which had just gone out to Spithead. She was a thirty-six gun frigate,
and worthy of all the encomiums Terence had lavishly bestowed on her at
dinner. The Admiral stumped all over her, and examined all the new
inventions, and went into the midshipmen's berth, which was a very natty
one; and he sat down and talked of old times during the war, and told a
good story or two, and made himself perfectly at home, and introduced
Jack "as a fellow who would speak for himself by and by;" and when he
went away he was voted a regular trump, and no small share of his lustre
fell on Jack. The Admiral and Jack went on deck. The former was in no
hurry to leave the ship. He took a great interest in all that was going
forward. They walked the deck for some time. The Admiral stopped, and
said with more seriousness than was his wont: "Jack, I have given you
several pieces of advice which you have taken well from an old sailor
who has lost his leg in the service of his country, and has been pretty
well riddled and knocked about besides. I must give you another, the
most important of all--never forget that you are a Christian, and never
be ashamed of confessing it. Your Bible tells you what that means.
You've got one in your chest. Read it often, and learn from it. Nail
your colours to the mast, and fight under them. You'll thus keep your
spiritual enemies at bay, as I hope you will those of your country."
Jack grasped the Admiral's hand to show that he understood him, but for
the life of him he could not have found words to express what he wanted
to say. They had stopped, and were looking over the ship's side. Jack
espied a boat pulling up under the frigate's quarter, with a
midshipman's chest and a midshipman in her.
"What, more youngsters!" growled out an old mate; "we've our complement,
and more than enough already." Jack's heart gave a jump of pleasure.
He thought that he recognised Murray. It was a curious coincidence, if
such was the case, that the three schoolfellows should meet. The boat
came alongside, the chest was hoisted up in spite of the old mate's
growls, the midshipman followed, and in another minute Jack Terence and
Alick were shaking hands, and laughing heartily at their happy
encounter. Murray said that he had not come to join the _Racer_
permanently, but that he had been ordered a passage to the
Mediterranean, where the sloop of war to which he had been appointed was
stationed. The Admiral told Murray that he knew his father, and that he
was glad a son of his had chosen the navy as a profession. He then
heartily shook hands with the three lads; and when he went on shore all
the midshipmen of the ship manned the side ropes to show their respect
to the fine old sailor, and gave him three cheers as he pulled away.
Jack confessed that, somehow or other, he felt more inclined to pipe his
eye on that occasion than on any of his other leave-takings. Two days
after this the _Racer_, bound for the Mediterranean, was running out at
the Needles, whose jagged peaks and high white cliffs rose in
picturesque beauty on the left hand. The wind was fair, the sky blue,
and the water smooth, and the three midshipmen looked forward with
delight to the numerous adventures they expected to encounter.