that several instances had occurred of matters | having been reported to the masters; that this was against public morality and school tradition: that a levy of the sixth had been held on the subject, and they had resolved that the practice must be stopped at once; had given out that any boy, in whatever form, who should thenceforth appeal to a master, without having first gone to some præpostor and laid the case before him, should be thrashed publicly, and sent to Coventry. 66 "Well, then, let's try the sixth. Try Morgan," suggested another. No use" Blabbing won't do," was the general feeling. "I'll give you fellows a piece of advice," said a voice from the end of the hall. They all turned round with a start, and the speaker got up from a bench on which he had been lying unobserved, and gave himself a shake; he was a big loose-made fellow, with huge limbs which had grown too far through his jacket and trousers. "Don't you go to anybody at allyou just stand out; say you won't fag-they'll soon get tired of licking you. I've tried it on years ago with their fore-runners." "No! did you? Tell us how it was?" cried a chorus of voices, as they clustered round him. "Well, just as it is with you. The fifth form would fag us, and I and some more struck, and we beat 'em. The good fellows left off directly, and the bullies who kept on soon got afraid.' "Was Flashman here then?" 66 Oh, toadies never get cut, they're too useful. Besides, he has no end of great hampers from home, with wine and game in them; so he toadied and fed himself into favour." The quarter-to-ten bell now rang, and the small boys went off upstairs, still consulting together, and praising their new counsellor, who stretched himself out on the bench before the hall-fire again. There he lay, a very queer specimen of boyhood, by name Diggs, and familiarly called "the Mucker." He was young for his size, and a very clever fellow, nearly at the top of the fifth. His friends at home, having regard, I suppose, to his age, and not to his size and place in the school, hadn't put him into tails; and even his jackets were always too small; and he had a talent for destroying clothes and making himself look shabby. He wasn't on terms with Flashman's VOL. I. set, who sneered at his dress and ways behind his back, which he knew, and revenged himself by asking Flashman the most disagreeable questions, and treating him familiarly whenever a crowd of boys were round them. Neither was he intimate with any of the other bigger boys, who were warned off by his oddnesses, for he was a very queer fellow; besides, amongst other failings, he had that of impecuniosity in a remarkable degree. He brought as much money as other boys to school, but got rid of it in no time, no one knew how. And then, being also reckless, borrowed from any one, and when his debts accumulated and creditors pressed, would have an auction in the Hall of everything he possessed in the world, selling even his school-books, candlestick, and study table. For weeks after one of these auctions, having rendered his study uninhabitable, he would live about in the fifth-form room and Hall, doing his verses on old letter-backs and odd scraps of paper, and learning his lessons no one knew how. He never meddled with any little boys, and was popular with them, though they all looked on him with a sort of compassion, and called him "poor Diggs," not being able to resist appearances, or to disregard wholly even the sneers of their enemy Flashman. However, he seemed equally indifferent to the sneers of big boys and the pity of small ones, and lived his own queer life with much apparent enjoyment to himself. It is necessary to introduce Diggs thus particularly, as he not only did Tom and East good service in their present warfare, as is about to be told, but soon afterwards, when he got into the sixth, chose them for his fags, and excused them from study-fagging, thereby earning unto himself eternal gratitude from them, and from all who are interested in their history. And seldom had small boys more need of a friend, for the morning after the siege the storm burst upon the rebels in all its violence. Flashman laid wait, and caught Tom before second lesson, and, receiving a point-blank "No" when told to fetch his hat, seized him and twisted his arm, and went through the other methods of torture in use: "He couldn't make me cry though," as Tom said triumphantly to the rest of the rebels, "and I kicked his shins well, I know." And soon it crept out that a lot of the fags were in league, and Flashman excited his associates to join him in bringing the young vagabonds to their senses; and the house was filled with constant chasings, and sieges, and lickings of all sorts; and in return, the bullies' beds were pulled to pieces and drenched with water, and their names written 23 up on the walls with every insulting epithet | years old, and big and strong of his age. which the fag invention could furnish. The war in short raged fiercely; but soon, as Diggs had told them, all the better fellows in the fifth gave up trying to fag them, and public feeling began to set against Flashman and his two or three intimates, and they were obliged to keep their doings more secret, but, being thorough bad fellows, missed no opportunity of torturing in private. Flashman was an adept in all ways, but above all in the power of saying cutting and cruel things, and could often bring tears to the eyes of boys in this way which all the thrashings in the world wouldn't have wrung from them. And as his operations were being cut short in other directions, he now devoted himself chiefly to Tom and East, who lived at his own door, and would force himself into their study whenever he found a chance, and sit there, sometimes alone, sometimes with a companion, interrupting all their work, and exulting in the evident pain which every now and then he could see he was inflicting on one or the other. The storm had cleared the air for the rest of the house, and a better state of things now began than there had been since old Brooke had left: but an angry dark spot of thundercloud still hung over the end of the passage, where Flashman's study and that of East and Tom lay. He played well at all games where pluck wasn't much wanted, and managed generally to keep up appearances where it was; and having a bluff, off-hand manner, which passed for heartiness, and considerable powers of being pleasant when he liked, went down with the school in general for a good fellow enough. Even in the school-house, by dint of his command of money, the constant supply of good things which he kept up, and his adroit toadyism, he had managed to make himself not only tolerated, but rather popular amongst his own contemporaries: although young Brooke scarcely spoke to him, and one or two others of the right sort showed their opinions of him whenever a chance offered. But the wrong sort happened to be in the ascendant just now, and so Flashman was a formidable enemy for small boys. This soon became plain enough. Flashman left no slander unspoken, and no deed undone, which could in any way hurt his victims, or isolate them from the rest of the house. One by one most of the other rebels fell away from them, while Flashman's cause prospered, and several other fifth-form boys began to look black at them and ill-treat them as they passed about the house. By keeping out of bounds, or at all events out of the house and quadrangle, all day, and carefully barring themselves in at night, East and Tom managed He felt that they had been the first rebels, to hold on without feeling very miserable; but and that the rebellion had been to a great it was as much as they could do. Greatly extent successful; but what above all stirred were they drawn then towards old Diggs, who, the hatred and bitterness of his heart against in an uncouth way, began to take a good deal of them was, that in the frequent collisions which notice of them, and once or twice came to their there had been of late they had openly called study when Flashman was there, who immehim coward and sneak,-the taunts were too diately decamped in consequence. The boys true to be forgiven. While he was in the act thought that Diggs must have been watching. of thrashing them, they would roar out instances When therefore, about this time, an auction of his funking at football, or shirking some was one night announced to take place in the encounter with a lout of half his own size. Hall, at which, amongst the superfluities of These things were all well enough known in the other boys, all Diggs' Penates for the time house, but to have his disgrace shouted out by being were going to the hammer, East and small boys, to feel that they despised him, to Tom laid their heads together, and resolved to be unable to silence them by any amount of devote their ready cash (some four shillings torture, and to see the open laugh and sneer of sterling) to redeem such articles as that sum his own associates (who were looking on, and would cover. Accordingly, they duly attended took no trouble to hide their scorn from him, to bid, and Tom became the owner of two lots though they neither interfered with his bully- of Diggs' things;-lot 1, price one-and-threeing or lived a bit the less intimately with him), pence, consisting (as the auctioneer remarked) made him beside himself. Come what might, of a "valuable assortment of old metals," in he would make those boys' lives miserable. So the shape of a mouse-trap, a cheese-toaster the strife settled down into a personal affair without a handle, and a saucepan; lot 2, of between Flashman and our youngsters; a war a villanous dirty table-cloth and green-baize to the knife, to be fought out in the little cock-curtain; while East, for one-and-sixpence, pit at the end of the bottom passage. purchased a leather paper-case, with a lock but no key, once handsome, but now much the Flashman, be it said, was about seventeen worse for wear. But they had still the point to settle of how to get Diggs to take the things without hurting his feelings. This they solved by leaving them in his study, which was never locked when he was out. Diggs, who had attended the auction, remembered who had bought the lots, and came to their study soon after, and sat silent for some time, cracking his great red finger-joints. Then he laid hold of their verses, and began looking over and altering them, and at last got up, and turning his back to them, said, “You're uncommon good-hearted little beggars, you two-I value that papercase, my sister gave it me last holidays-I won't forget;" and so tumbled out into the passage, leaving them somewhat embarrassed, but not sorry that he knew what they had done. That The next morning was Saturday, the day on which the allowances of one shilling a week were paid, an important event to spendthrift youngsters: and great was the disgust amongst the small fry to hear that all the allowances had been impounded for the Derby lottery. great event in the English year, the Derby, was celebrated at Rugby in those days by many lotteries. It was not an improving custom, I own, gentle reader, and led to making books, and betting, and other objectionable results; but when our great Houses of Palaver think it right to stop the nation's business on that day, and many of the members bet heavily themselves, can you blame us boys for following the example of our betters?-at any rate we did follow it. First there was the great School lottery, where the first prize was six or seven pounds; then each house had one or more separate lotteries. These were all nominally voluntary, no boy being compelled to put in his shilling who didn't choose to do so: but besides Flashman, there were three or four other fast sporting young gentlemen in the school-house, who considered subscription a matter of duty and necessity, and so, to make their duty come easy to the small boys, quietly secured the allowances in a lump when given out for distribution, and kept them. It was no use grumbling, -so many fewer tartlets and apples were eaten and fives'-balls bought on that Saturday; and after locking-up, when the money would otherwise have been spent, consolation was carried to many a small boy by the sound of the night-fags shouting along the passages, "Gentlemen sportsmen of the School-house, the lottery's going to be drawn in the Hall." It was pleasant to be called a gentleman sportsman-also to have a chance of drawing a favourite horse. The Hall was full of boys, and at the head of one of the long tables stood the sporting interest, with a hat before them, in which were the tickets folded up. One of them then began calling out the list of the house; each boy as his name was called drew a ticket from the hat and opened it, and most of the bigger boys, after drawing, left the Hall directly to go back to their studies or the fifth-form room. The sporting interest had all drawn blanks, and they were sulky accordingly; neither of the favourites had yet been drawn, and it had come down to the upper-fourth. So now, as each small boy came up and drew his ticket, it was seized and opened by Flashman or some other of the standers-by. But no great favourite is drawn until it comes to the Tadpole's turn, and he shuffles up and draws, and tries to make off, but is caught, and his ticket is opened like the rest. "Here you are! Wanderer! the third favourite," shouts the opener. "I say, just give me my ticket, please," remonstrates Tadpole. "Hullo, don't be in a hurry," breaks in Flashman; "what'll you sell Wanderer for now?" "I don't want to sell," rejoins Tadpole. 66 Oh, don't you! Now listen, you young fool-you don't know anything about it; the horse is no use to you. He won't win, but I want him as a hedge. Now, I'll give you half-a-crown for him." Tadpole holds out, but between threats and cajoleries at length sells half for one-shilling-and-sixpence, about a fifth of its fair market value; however, he is glad to realize anything, and as he wisely remarks, "Wanderer mayn't win, and the tizzy is safe anyhow.' East presently comes up and draws a blank. Soon after comes Tom's turn; his ticket, like the others, is seized and opened. "Here you are then," shouts the opener holding it up, Harkaway! By Jove, Flashey, your young friend's in luck." "Give me the ticket," says Flashman with an oath, leaning across the table with opened hand, and his face black with rage. "Wouldn't you like it!" replies the opener, not a bad fellow at the bottom, and no admirer of Flashman's. "Here, Brown, catch hold," and he hands the ticket to Tom, who pockets it; whereupon Flashman makes for the door at once, that Tom and the ticket may not escape, and there keeps watch until the drawing is over, and all the boys are gone, except the sporting set of five or six, who stay to compare books, make bets, and so on, Tom, who doesn't choose to move while Flashman is at the door, and East, who stays by his friend anticipating trouble. The sporting set now gathered round Tom. Public opinion wouldn't allow them actually to rob him of his ticket, but any humbug or intimidation by which he could be driven to sell the whole or part at an under-value was lawful. "Now, young Brown, come, what'll you sell me Harkaway for? I hear he isn't going to start. I'll give you five shillings for him," begins the boy who had opened the ticket. Tom, remembering his good deed, and moreover in his forlorn state wishing to make a friend, is about to accept the offer, when another cries out, "I'll give you seven shillings." Tom hesitated, and looked from one to the other. "No, no!" said Flashman, pushing in, "leave me to deal with him; we'll draw lots for it afterwards. Now, sir, you know me-you'll sell Harkaway to us for five shillings, or you'll repent it." "I won't sell a bit of him," answered Tom, shortly. "You hear that now!" said Flashman, turning to the others. "He's the coxiest young blackguard in the house-I always told you so. We're to have all the trouble and risk of getting up the lotteries for the benefit of such fellows as he." Flashman forgets to explain what risk they ran, but he speaks to willing ears. Gambling makes boys selfish and cruel as well as men. That's true, we always draw blanks," cried one. "Now, sir, you shall sell half, at any rate. "I won't," said Tom, flushing up to his hair, and lumping them all in his mind with his sworn enemy. "Very well then, let's roast him," cried Flashman, and catches hold of Tom by the collar; one or two boys hesitate, but the rest join in. East seizes Tom's arm and tries to pull him away, but is knocked back by one of the boys, and Tom is dragged along struggling. His shoulders are pushed against the mantelpiece, and he is held by main force before the fire, Flashman drawing his trousers tight by way of extra torture. Poor East, in more pain even than Tom, suddenly thinks of Diggs, and darts off to find him. "Will you sell now for ten shillings!" says one boy who is relenting. Tom only answers by groans and struggles. "I say, Flashey, he has had enough," says the same boy, dropping the arm he holds. No, no, another turn'll do it," answers Flashman. But poor Tom is done already, turns deadly pale, and his head falls forward on his breast, just as Diggs, in frantic excitement, rushes into the Hall with East at his heels. "You cowardly brutes!" is all he can say, as he catches Tom from them and supports him to the Hall table. "Good God! he's dying. Here, get some cold water-run for the housekeeper.' Flashman and one or two others slink away; the rest, ashamed and sorry, bend over Tom or run for water, while East darts off for the housekeeper. Water comes, and they throw it on his hands and face, and he begins to come to. "Mother!"-the words came feebly and slowly-"it's very cold to-night." Poor old Diggs is blubbering like a child. am I?" goes on Tom, opening his eyes. I remember now;" and he shut his eyes again and groaned. Where "Ah! "I say," is whispered, "we can't do any good, and the housekeeper will be here in a minute;" and all but one steal away; he stays with Diggs, silent and sorrowful, and fans Tom's face. The housekeeper comes in with strong salts, and Tom soon recovers enough to sit up. There is a smell of burning; she examines his clothes, and looks up inquiringly. The boys are silent. "How did he come so?" No answer. "There's been some bad work here," she adds, looking very serious, “and I shall speak to the Doctor about it." Still no answer. Hadn't we better carry him to the sickroom?" suggests Diggs. "Oh, I can walk now," says Tom! and, supported by East and the housekeeper, goes to the sick-room. The boy who held his ground is soon amongst the rest, who are all in fear of their lives. "Did he peach?" "Does she know about it?" Not a word-he's a stanch little fellow." And pausing a moment he adds, "I'm sick of this work; what brutes we've been!" Meantime Tom is stretched on the sofa in the housekeeper's room, with East by his side, while she gets wine and water and other restoratives. "Are you much hurt, dear old boy?" whispers East. "Only the back of my legs," answers Tom. They are indeed badly scorched, and part of his trousers burned through. But soon he is in bed, with cold bandages. At first he feels broken, and thinks of writing home and getting taken away; and the verse of a hymn he had learned years ago sings through his head, and he goes to sleep, murmuring— "Where the wicked cease from troubling, And the weary are at rest." But after a sound night's rest, the old boyspirit comes back again. East comes in reporting that the whole house is with him, and he forgets everything, except their old resolve never to be beaten by that bully Flashman. Not a word could the housekeeper extract from either of them, and though the Doctor knew all that she knew that morning, he never knew any more. I trust and believe that such scenes are not possible now at school, and that lotteries and betting-books have gone out! but I am writing of schools as they were in our time, and must give the evil with the good. THE JACKDAW OF RHEIMS.1 AN INGOLDSBY LEGEND. With a great many more of lesser degree,- And they served the Lord Primate on bended knee. Was a prouder seen, Read of in books, or dreamt of in dreams, In and out Through the motley rout, That little Jackdaw kept hopping about; Like a dog in a fair, Cowl and cope, and rochet and pall, He perch'd on the chair Of his Lordship's Grace, With a satisfied look, as if he would say, As such freaks they saw, The feast was over, the board was clear'd, [Rev. Richard Harris Barham, born at Canterbury, Said, "The Devil must be in that little Jackdaw!" 6th December, 1788; died 17th June, 1845. As Thomas Ingoldsby, author of the Ingoldsby Legends, he is recognized as one of the greatest humorists of our century. In his Life and Letters, edited by his son (published by Bentley, 1870), appears the following criticism, which is perfectly just, notwithstanding the relationship of the writer to the subject of his biography: "As respects the poems, remarkable as they have been pronounced for the wit and humour which they display, their distinguishing attraction lies in the almost unparalleled flow and facility of the versification. Popular phrases, sentences the most prosaic, even the cramped technicalities of legal diction, and snatches from various languages, are wrought in with an apparent absence of all art and effort that surprises, pleases, and convulses the reader at every turn; the author triumphs with a master's hand over every sort of stanza, however complicated or exacting; not a word seems out of place, not an expression forced; syllables the most exacting find the only partners fitted for them throughout the range of language, and couple together as naturally as those kindred spirits which poets tell us were created pairs, and dispersed in space to seek out their particular mates." The Rev. Mr. Barham was rector of St. Augustine and St. Faith, and a minor canon of St. Paul's, London. Besides the Legends he wrote a novel entitled My Cousin Nicholas, and contributed largely to the principal magazines.] The Jackdaw sat on the Cardinal's chair! Many a monk, and many a friar, Two by two, A napkin bore, Of the best white diaper, fringed with pink, The great Lord Cardinal turns at the sight His costly turquoise; And, not thinking at all about little Jackdaws, By the side of his plate, While the nice little boys on his Eminence wait; 1 Inserted by special permission of Messrs. R. Bentley That little Jackdaw hops off with the ring! & Son, London. |