"If 10 men and 6 boys dig a trench 100 feet long, 8 feet wide, and 5
feet deep, in 12 days, how many boys ought to be employed to dig a
trench 200 feet long, 3 feet deep, and 6 feet wide, in 8 days, if only 5
men were employed, 2 boys being supposed equal to 1 man?"
As I read over this question I felt my heart sink within me. I knew I
could not do it properly, and that I should again expose myself to
ridicule in having said I could accomplish rule-of-three, when, if this
were rule-of-three, I knew nothing of it. I sat for several minutes
looking at the question, and trying to discover some means for its
solution. Boys were mixed in my mind with ditches, men with days, and
deep holes with width. At least a quarter of an hour passed without my
making the slightest advance in the way of solution; at the end of this
time Mr Monk looked at my slate and said,--
"So you don't seem to know much about rule-of-three?"
"I never saw a sum like this before," I replied.
"Then why did you tell me that you could do rule-of-three? Do you know
your multiplication table?"
"Yes," I replied.
"What's 12 times 11?" he inquired.
Now, of all the multiplication table, 11 times anything was to me the
easiest, because I remembered that two similar figures, such as 66, was
6 times 11, 77 was seven times 11, and so on; but 12 times 11 was a
number I was always rather shaky about. I hesitated a moment and then
made a wild rush at it, and said, "One hundred and twenty-one?"
Mr Monk looked at me with a mingled expression of pity and contempt,
and said, "You're nearly fifteen, and you don't know your multiplication
table, and yet you think you're going to be an engineer! Why there's
not a boy at the charity-school who at twelve does not know more than
you!"
I listened attentively to this remark, for I felt that Mr Monk was a
prophet. It was quite true that I was a dunce. I had learnt it, and
realised it in half a day. It had been forcibly impressed on me as I
tried to learn Euclid, as I was ignominiously defeated by Fraser in a
pugilistic encounter in something like ten minutes, and now when it was
proved to me! did not know my multiplication table.
"You'd better commence at simple addition," said Monk, "and work your
way up. You can't join any class; there's no one so backward as you
are. Your nursemaid ought to have taught you these things. At Mr
Hostler's we don't expect to have to teach even arithmetic. It will
take you three years to get up to quadratics!"
"Well, Mr Monk," said Hostler, bustling into the room, "I hope Shepard
is well up in his algebra?"
"He doesn't even know his multiplication table?" said Monk.
Hostler stared at me much as he would at a dog with only two legs or a
bird with one wing. Having given me a long searching look, under which
I blushed and felt inclined to shrink under the form, he said,--
"Poor fellow! your friends have got a lot to answer for! What a pity it
is, Mr Monk, that in civilised England people who are gentlefolks are
not compelled by law to educate their children! Look at this boy, now.
I dare say, at home and in the country, he was thought to be fit to run
alone; and yet there he is, a regular dunce! Now, Shepard," he said,
"you must begin to learn; you must work hard; and if there's no chance
of your getting into the Academy, why, what you learn here will always
be of use to you; so don't be idle."
Having made this remark, Mr Hostler went about the school, looking at
the slates of the various boys, talking to several, and explaining their
problems to them. As for me, I was soon busily engaged in adding up a
long row of pounds, shillings, and pence, which I did not accomplish
without three times failing to obtain the right total. At length,
however, I was successful, just as it was time to turn out for our
afternoon walk.
On going to bed that night I seemed to have passed through more, and to
have gained more experience in that one day that I had in years before.
I had learnt that I knew nothing--that my supposed knowledge was not
real--that I was, in fact, a dunce, far behind all other boys of my own
age--that I was weak in physical strength--and though my sisters used to
think me awfully strong, yet this, too, was a mistake. Mixed with the
depressing effect of this knowledge there was, however, a slight feeling
of satisfaction in knowing that now at least I was among realities,
whilst before I was among dreams. I had, too, a kind of presentiment
that I had within me a capacity for doing work, if I could only get in
the way of it. When I used to help my father in his microscope work,
and sketched some of the wonderful details of the wings, legs, or bodies
of the insects I saw, he always prophesied that I should do great things
some day. Now, however, I realised the fact that I was a dunce--that I
was so far behind other boys that it was improbable I could ever catch
them up, and so to expect to excel was out of the question; if I could
only attain to mediocrity I should be satisfied.
Such thoughts passed through my mind as I dozed off to sleep, and
dreamed I was untangling a skein of wire, that as fast as I undid one
part another portion gathered itself in a knot.
Suddenly I felt a choking sensation, and started up in bed with a
strange bewildered feeling over me. The room was quite dark, and I
could not see one of the ten beds occupied by the other boys in the
room. I, however, heard a slight noise as of some one getting into bed,
and then a smothered laugh. As I fully awoke I found I was drenched
with water and my bed and pillow were wet--a fact I was much puzzled at.
As I sat up, wondering what had happened, a boy called out, "Shepard!
what are you about?"
"I am wet through, somehow," I said.
"Ah! some one has given you a `cold pig,' I suppose, because you snored
so. Don't you make such a row again."
When I was at home it was instilled into me that it was almost certain
death to sleep in a damp bed, and numerous instances were quoted to me
of persons who had either died of consumption, or been cripples for life
in consequence of sleeping in wet sheets. In the present instance,
however, there was no help for it. I must either sit up all night, or
sleep in the bed, wet as it was. I was so completely tired, so utterly
worn out, bodily and mentally, that I did not care who it was had thrown
the water on me. My head ached, from over-thought as much as from the
blows I had received in my fight, and I again laid down in the wet bed,
and slept as well as though in my own room at home.
I had not half completed what would have been a fair night's rest under
ordinary conditions when I was awoke by the shrill voice of a boy
shouting "Quarter!" I at first imagined this cry might mean something
connected with a battle, and that the enemy were calling out for
quarter; but on fully awaking I found each boy jumping up, and rushing
to a basin of water and washing in the greatest haste. I followed the
example set me by the other boys, from whom I learnt that we all had to
be in the schoolroom by six o'clock, and any boy who was not in the room
when the clock struck got no breakfast. We all rushed from our room
about a minute before the clock struck, and entered the school where I
had been on the previous day; and I then found that between six and
seven a proposition in Euclid had to be learnt on nearly every morning.
So I was at once started at my definitions.
In the hour allotted I managed to learn my definitions, and said them to
the satisfaction of Mr Monk, and was able, therefore, to go out with
the other boys for the half-hour preceding breakfast.
During the next two days our routine was very similar to that of the
first day. I soon fully realised the fact that I was more backward, if
not more stupid, than any boy in the school; and I also learnt that no
one believed it possible I could ever be prepared to pass the
examination for entrance to the Academy. There were boys at the school
of only twelve years of age, who were far beyond me, who were not to be
sent up for examination until they were fifteen years of age. In those
days a boy was allowed only one trial for entrance, and if he then
failed he never had another given him; and he consequently lost all
chance of becoming a cadet. So it was, at least, a prudent precaution
to keep a boy at school until he was well qualified to pass his
examination. There was also then, as now, considerable rivalry amongst
the schoolmasters who prepared for Woolwich Academy, and it was
considered a feather in the cap of the individual who had prepared the
first boy on the list. To send up any boy, therefore, badly prepared
was imprudent, and also not likely to reflect any credit on the
establishment from which he had been sent.
I used my best endeavours to get on, but found that my brain would not
work as would that of other boys: it seemed like a limb that has not
been used for many weeks and is suddenly called upon for some hard work;
it becomes stiff and unable to work in a very short time. I also
noticed that none of the masters seemed to take much trouble about me.
It appeared as though they had agreed that I was not in the race for the
Academy, and therefore it was unnecessary for them to trouble themselves
much about me.
In three days an entire change had come over me. I had lost all pride
in myself, and felt that I must merely drag on an existence at this
school for a time. I had not the courage to write to my father and tell
him it was impossible I could pass my examination, as I was such a
dunce; for I knew such an announcement would not be believed by him, or,
if believed, it would be most unpleasant news. I hoped, too, that it
was possible I might by practice get accustomed to the noise at the
school, and might, like other boys, be able to learn like a parrot the
problems in Euclid. My life was certainly a most miserable one. I was
still the last new boy, and as such had various tricks played upon me;
but it seemed that my nature was somehow changed, and that I did not
feel as sensitively as I did on first joining Mr Hostler's.
One day per week at Mr Hostler's was devoted to drawing of various
kinds, and languages; and this day was a great relaxation after the
perpetual Euclid, arithmetic, or algebra. I rather looked forward,
also, to seeing Mr Walkwell, the drawing-master, who, I was told, was
very amusing and quite a character, and who was very fond of boys. On
going into school after breakfast, I saw Mr Walkwell. He was a short,
spare man, with a flexible face, which he had the power of altering in a
marvellous manner. His arms and legs also he could swing about in a
wild kind of way that seemed quite dangerous. As we all entered the
school, Mr Walkwell called out in a deep, loud voice that one would
scarcely believe possible could emanate from so small a man,--
"Every boy to his seat instantly?"
Each boy jumped into a place except myself, and, not knowing where to
go, I stood looking at Mr Walkwell.
"New boy," said Mr Walkwell, pointing his finger at me threateningly.
"New boy! See. Ought to be an artist. Large perceptives, comparison
well developed, ideality large, temperament nervous. New boy, you can
draw?"
"No, sir," I said, "I can't draw."
"What's your name, new boy?"
"Shepard, sir."
"Gentle Shepard--not of Salisbury Plains--come and sit here. That's
always to be your place. Now, boys, listen to the three great rules of
drawing."
Mr Walkwell here took a piece of chalk and sketched on a black board in
about half a dozen lines a small landscape. As he drew these lines, he
said,--
"Listen, boys! There are three rules in drawing to be attended to.
There is the distant, or delicate--see here the distant hills; the
middle ground, or spirited; and the foreground, or bold."
As he completed his remarks, he lowered his voice from the high falsetto
at which he had commenced to the deepest base, whilst at the same time
he ran his chalk about in a most skilful manner over the lines he had
drawn, and filled in a very effective landscape.
"Now, Shepard," he said, "you, as new boy, always remember these golden
rules, and you must draw. Take a pencil now and copy this gate."
I was here given a copy, a piece of drawing-paper, and a spare piece of
paper to try my pencil on. I very soon copied the gate, and then amused
myself in sketching a yacht, such as I had seen in the Solent, and
making the Isle of Wight the distant, or delicate, and some posts the
foreground, or bold. It was a scene I could call to mind, and I seemed
to be again in Hampshire, enjoying my liberty. So engrossed was I with
this fancy sketch, that at first I did not notice all the boys' eyes
turned on me with curiosity. I soon saw, however, that I was the object
of general attention; and on looking round I saw Mr Walkwell leaning
over me, watching what I was doing.
"New boy, give me that," said Mr Walkwell; "you are idling."
I gave up the paper, feeling certain that either three cuts on the hand
or some other punishment would be given to me. Mr Walkwell looked at
the drawing, and then at me, and then said,--
"Shepard, I must report you to Mr Hostler."
"Please, sir, don't!" I said; "I'll never idle again."