Date: Tue, 19 Apr 2011 09:12:53 +0000
From: Jo Vincent <joad130@hotmail.com>
Subject: Tom Browning's Schooldays Chapter 2

			 Tom Browning's Schooldays

				    By

				   Joel

				Chapter Two


			      Wednesday Night

I quickly mopped my juices from where they had landed on my belly and
dropped the rag on the floor.  There was no further noise from above so,
after arranging my nightshirt and bed covers, I settled myself for slumber.
I was both tired and excited.  I had arrived at this new experience for me,
a school, and had met several of my companions-to-be, friends I hoped.  And
now I had revelled in those actions which I always found when finished
helped me to relax.  I dropped into a sound sleep.

                         Thursday Morning

     I woke with a start as I heard a bell tolling and I counted six.  I
shook my head slightly in wonderment then realised I was no longer at home
in Careby Hall but I also realised that which happened each morning now was
aching for attention.  My unruly pizzle was up hard against my belly as the
night before.  There was no sound from the canopied bed above so I shifted
my covers down and my night shirt up and repeated those movements I had
learned to enjoy.  I closed my eyes and opened my mouth as slowly at first
I worked drawing my foreskin back until the tip of my peg was poking just
free of the tightness.  I could not free it completely yet like Rowley and
my blacksmith friends.  Even Robin was like me but the others said with
time and effort we would be like them.  "Much effort needed," as Jacob
Barker told us.  My pace quickened as I felt the first pulses within and
with a rising gasp I let my morning juices spurt.  I breathed in and out
deeply several times, still with my eyes tightly shut.

     "My," came a voice from above, "Our young Tom is well-acquainted with
the sin of Onan.  Will we be lulled to sleep and woken each morning by his
most musical efforts?  I am certain he has the rhythm and a tuneful throat
to keep us entertained every day and night."

     My cheeks must have reddened as I opened my eyes and saw two grinning
faces peering at me over the edge of the big bed.

     Of course, it was George who had commented.

     "George, let the boy enjoy himself.  You are no slouch yourself in
showing your own prowess whenever possible outdoing Onan himself, no
doubt."  Theo winked at me.  "Good show, my boy!"

     I recovered my composure.  I wrinkled my nose knowing both these had
made free with their own pizzles the night before.  "If you both read
Genesis chapter thirty-eight carefully you will know that Onan's sin was
not spilling his seed wantonly but that he did not marry his sister-in-law
as ordered.  He was struck down for that and not for what I am told all
boys do."

     George guffawed and Theo chuckled.  "Not only is he well-versed in
Greek and Latin but he is a Biblical scholar, too," said George.  "Why is
it then that so many fathers beat their sons when they are found stroking
their pizzles if it is not a sin?"

     "Quite simple," said Theo, "No doubt it is because of their own lost
youthfulness.  I know my brother Percy has recourse to his hand although he
is married and it makes him feel guilty...."

     "....You have not told me this before," interrupted George looking
sideways at Theo.

     Theo's grin was even wider.  "I only learned that during this last
holiday."  He stopped.  "Perhaps, I should tell you when we are alone."
The grin disappeared.

     I was getting interested as I was learning things.  "Why alone?" I
said, "Why not tell me as well?"

     George nodded.  "If young Tom is to be a good companion we must have
no secrets.  I have two brothers, one is married and I know Geoffrey, who
is not married, does still take pleasure as we do...."

     Neither of my brothers were married and were much older than me.  I
did not know if either pleasured themselves as I did but I knew that
Torquil had pleasured himself in a different way some fifteen years ago.

     George changed the topic.  "...So, Tom, you must tell us later how you
know all about poor Onan, but we must get up and down to the outhouse
before the others wake.  Here, wipe yourself first and put these on."  A
pair of what I took to be running drawers landed on my chest.

     I pulled my nightshirt off over my head and grabbed the cloth and
cleaned myself.  I stood with now a drooping pizzle and pulled on the
drawers.  They had a drawstring at the waist which I pulled tight and tied.
They were not too big.  Just right.  The other two were now also arrayed as
I was.

     "No need for an undershirt today.  Pull on those light boots of yours
and don't make too much noise."  George was putting his rather large feet
into his slippers.

     Having released my lustfulness I now needed a good piss so I was ready
to hurry.

     "Here take these," said Theo.  He handed me some sheets of paper.  I
noted they were covered with scribbles in Latin and Greek.  "You must keep
your own papers as some boys are rather profligate with any provided.  It
is important you are not caught wanting as very few will respond to your
cries for help.  Now, bring a towel with you."

     I did not know what would come next but we padded as quietly as
possible down towards the door leading outside.  A sleeping figure was in
the small box-like room near the door.  George put a finger to his lips as
he unhooked a key hanging on a nail by the sleeper.  He quietly unlocked
the door and dropped his towel behind it as he pushed the doorstop against
it.  Theo and I left our towels as well as we filed out and ran towards the
outhouse.  We were first.

     "Good," breathed George, "There will be no shit on the seats and it
has been well- limed."  He stood by a trough and pulled up the leg of his
drawers and let fly with a stream of hot piss.  Theo was beside him and I
noted his lanky pizzle as he breathed almost a sigh of contentment.  I
copied them and three boys grinned and looked at each other as a vapour
rose in the cool air.  "I needed that," George said as his stubby peg was
shaken as he finished.  He moved further into the outhouse where a row of
doorless stalls were set up.  "Make sure you empty well," he said, "I do
not recommend this place later in the day unless it is very urgent.  I know
Mr Pretyman has asked for it to be cleansed at noon as well as each evening
but the night-soil men will come only once a day and that when it is dark."

     I took an end stall and sat and eased myself.  At least I was not
bound nor suffered with the flux.  The paper was rather rough but looked
better than the few sheets tied with string hanging from the side.  I did
not feel too clean but George sitting in the next stall told me that we
could scour hidden parts in the washroom.  I had just finished when a
number of boys crowded in jostling for a place by the trough.  There was
little noise as most seemed only half awake.  What would wake them and the
dead was the volley of farts which then sounded as others rushed for places
in the stalls.

     George was greeting all and sundry as he stood and waited for Theo and
me.  I thought he must be well-liked as many a laugh and jest passed.  I
was then hurried out and we rescued our towels and passed the still
sleeping figure.  George led the way into the washroom nearby.  "Good," he
murmured, "There is some warm water."  He pointed to a low table with
basins on it.  "Ladle some into one of those and make sure you clean your
arse last.  That oaf Macauley has been known to have shit on his moustache
and wondering where the stink comes from."

     Theo was already filling his basin and had washed his face and arms by
the time I had ladled half a basin full.  "I have forgotten my soap," I
said.

     "Don't fret," said George, "there is always a piece or two under
here."

     He bent down and retrieved a small lump of almost black soap.  He
lathered his hands with it.  "You must not fuss too much.  Try it."

     I think it was the roughest lye soap I had seen.  We used better on
our horses when preparing them for show for customers.  Still, it did
lather somewhat and after I had finished my upper body I cast off my
drawers and quickly cleaned myself on both sides.

     "Don't be too long or someone coming in might think you are a
delectable young virgin," said George.  "Quick, I hear footsteps."

     I was quick.  My drawers were on even though I was still a little
damp.  Again, we were invaded by numerous boys until basins were being
shared and water was slopping all over the tiled floor.  We were finished
and out with George still carrying on conversations as boys passed us, many
of whom looked at me curiously.  I recognised several from the night before
but was not able to place names to them.  That would come I thought.

     As we went through the open door the sleeper was stretching awake.

     "Good morning, Mr Pullen," said George.  "You have not yet met our new
fag Thomas Browning."

     So this was arse-whipper Pullen.  Begging his pardon, Mr Pullen.  I
noted a man of more than middle age, of medium height, red faced with
drooping moustaches and lank hair and a sneering face.  And I was
introduced to this creature as 'new fag'.  He then farted and squirmed, his
shirt loose and the top of his britches undone.  He stared at me with red
rheumy eyes.

     "I hope you do not come to my attention Mr Browning.  I remember your
brother Mr Terence Browning and I have not forgiven him for cutting one
side of my moustache while I slept.  He felt my switch more than once for
that and other things."  The nose sneered.

     "I am sure I shall be circumspect," I said hating this creature even
from this first meeting.

     George poked me in the back.  "We shall leave you to your duties, Mr
Pullen."

     His imitation of the sneer was perfect as he turned to me at the top
of the stairs.  There we were met by the three from the room next to ours.
Young Bayes looked most unhappy. As the older two went down the stairs
after greeting us he turned to George.  "I tried to wake them earlier and
now there will be no clean water and the outhouse will stink."

     "Come with us tomorrow," said George, "We will be early."

     As we entered our room I asked if I had time to visit the stables as I
wanted to check on Blaze my gelding.  I also wanted to see if Robin was
settled in.  I mentioned only Blaze.

     "We have about half-an-hour before breakfast.  Just time to check.
You know the way?"

     I said I did and dressed as quickly as I could.  I hurried out,
passing a few laggards still making their way to the outhouse or the
washroom.  I had carefully noted the path at the back of the House towards
the stable area. It took but two minutes to find the stable.  It was busy.
There were five or six boys around, some forking straw into stalls and the
two rows of horses I could see seemed content eating.  Two boys were raking
the used bedding straw and one was shovelling it out into a barrow ready
for the midden.

     Robin was carrying a pail of water for the drinking trough.  He saw me
and smiled.  I hurried over to him and out of sight of his companions I
gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.  "Are you settled?" I asked.

     He smiled again.  "Very well.  I have quarters above the tack room
which I am sharing with Timmy."  His smile went. "I must tell you sometime
there is something amiss with him.  I need good advice.  But first, Blaze
and Silver.  Come over to the end as I have them in two stalls side by
side."

     I followed him and there was my good steed with his companion brother.
They both recognised me and neighed as I stroked their cheeks.  Robin
passed me two apples and I gave them one each.  "They are as well-settled
as you I see," I said, "Is the feed good?"

     My father was always insistent that to keep a horse well and strong
then the feed must be of the highest quality.

     "I am satisfied with the hay and the oats but will make certain they
have sufficient and I will exercise them both this morning."

     "I wish I could come with you," I said rather wistfully.  I was used
to riding each day.  "I will ask my fag-master..."  Here Robin grinned at
me.  "....He will tell me when there is some free time."

     Robin chuckled.  "'Fag-master'!  When have you had a master, Tom?"
The grin broadened.  "Your father has always given you free rein and who
has had all the village boys under his command like Milord Wellington after
Jabez Bottom left?"  I felt better and grinned, too, remembering Jabez and
the pranks we shared.  "But I must call you Master Browning now."  He bowed
his head slightly then wrinkled his nose "I was told sharply yesterday that
is how I must address you.  Mr Darlow the head groom said I was impertinent
and deserved a switching when he heard me telling Shem about you and
calling you Tom."

     I snorted.  "You know I am always Tom and always will be.  But, this
Shem?  I have met two serving boys, Japhet and Ham.  Are they brothers?"

     Tom nodded.  "Yes, Shem is the eldest as in Genesis."  He smiled.  "It
is good as the two boys brought us extra portions last night and Shem said
he hoped this would continue."

     Just then I heard a bell strike seven.  "I must go.  I miss you,
Robin, and I miss Blaze.  Take care of you both.  I will make an effort to
come again today and you can tell me more."

     Robin's grin broke out again.  "And you must tell me about your
fag-master and all your doings."

     I rushed off not to be late for breakfast and heard Robin whistling my
favourite 'Greensleeves' as he set to work again.

     I was not late.  I had some minutes back in our room with George and
Theo before going down for half past seven.  George was rather sad.  He
said he was not looking forward to being in Old Bartleby's Remove with all
the scum of the school.  Theo was trying to comfort him by saying we would
help him study and if he was examined before Christmas he was sure he would
escape that pit.  I was intrigued.  There was something here I did not
know.  But stomachs were empty and George said we had better go quickly or
all the best cold cuts would be gone..

     Cold cuts it was, with bread and butter and a hot cordial ladled out
into mugs by Japhet.  There were flagons of water on the table which George
said was clean to drink as a deep well had been sunk and the water was
sweet and pure.

     "You see," he nudged me and pointed with his fork at two youths on
another table, "They have a fear of good water and have brought their own
small beer. They suffered greatly at the end of the summer term not because
of the water but for the unripe plums they stole from Mr Ridley's garden."
He lowered his voice.  "Arse-whipper Pullen gave them six strokes for
stealing and another three for soiling themselves as he beat them!"

     I wondered what I had entered?  Boys beaten for stealing a few plums?
Our small gang made sure we had full pockets even if Old Man Grainger waved
his stick at us when Bobby Travis was jumping down from one of his trees.
Isaac Barker laughed when I confessed to him our misdeeds as we had also
raided his father's trees.  "You have only done what we did when your age
and younger.  I still have the scar where I gashed my leg jumping that iron
fence Squire Matthews has round his orchard.  He shouted he would set the
dogs on us but we knew the stupid hounds would lick us rather than bite."

     Still I was too busy filling my belly than being over-worried.
Terence hadn't told me he'd been beaten and had only laughed when told I
would be following in his footsteps to Ashbourne.  But he had left this
place a good dozen years so...  I had better pay attention as Theo on my
other side was telling me something.

     "You will have to sit with your form when we go to Chapel.  I have
asked young Bayes to take you under his wing.  You and he did well
yesterday and I have heard he is destined for Cambridge although his father
is a professor at London.  He told me last year he is kin to a long-dead
mathematician and he wishes to study that subject as well."

     I liked mathematics.  My Uncle Dodd was impatient with calculating and
had shown Robin and me ways of reaching answers quickly and demonstrated
with sticks he called Napier's Bones as well as tables of long numbers
called logarithms.  Robin was also very good with number and had made my
Uncle laugh when he showed how he had found a quick way of adding all the
numbers from one to a hundred which he could use also for any other
sequence of numbers.  He was not too pleased when Uncle Dodd told him a
German boy was seven when he discovered the same thing.  But then, Robin
was always trying to find new things about numbers and Uncle Dodd said he
should not be discouraged and that many discoveries were made by two or
more people without them realising.  He told us about Isaac Newton in
Cambridge and another German who had found a way of measuring change quite
independently and there was a great quarrel over who was the first
discoverer.  Uncle Dodd was very good at explaining things like that and I
hoped my masters here would be the same.

     Breakfast over and we had a few minutes before going to Chapel.
Aubrey Bayes explained that as it was the first day of term then Mr Ridley
would probably take the service.  We filed into a Chapel much bigger than
our small village church.  It was plainly decorated with the Lord's Prayer
painted by the side of the window. There was a table altar and a tall
pulpit.  A gowned master was playing the small organ and I recognised a
march by Handel which Aunt Matty Dodd often played in our church.  Aubrey
passed me a book.  I saw it was Common Prayer with hymns at the end and I
took a quick look.  I knew most of the hymns I scanned and the first one
was 'All people that on earth do dwell' which I liked.

     I looked around as the rest of the school were still entering.  I had
never seen so many boys together.  The very young ones were in the front
rows with us behind them and older boys behind us.  There were about
sixteen others who sat near the organ and I assumed were a choir.  All was
then silence as a row of masters in gowns came down the centre aisle and
took their places at the end of rows.  Two clergymen in plain black gowns
and bands at their throats took their seats below the pulpit.  One was Mr
Ridley.  He looked around at us all arrayed in front of him and in a few
words welcomed us all - he did mention that new boys were especially
welcomed and Aubrey gave me a surreptitious nudge.

     I was familiar with the service but it was much shorter than when
Uncle Dodd was in full flow.  Only one Sentence was read, that one from St
John about confessing our sins.  We all then knelt and said the General
Confession and listened while the other clergyman gave us Absolution.  I
looked up at the wall when we said the Lord's Prayer.  When he had finished
the prayers Mr Ridley then read through the psalm 'O come, let us sing unto
the Lord' as was appointed. The readings from the Old and New Testament
were given by two of the older boys who were sitting with the choir and
between these the other clergyman said the Te Deum. After the prayers and
the Creed Mr Ridley then announced we would sing a hymn which was the one I
had spotted.  We all stood and the tune was one I knew as well - the 'Old
Hundredth'.  My, there was a joyful noise.  I sang as loudly as I could and
I think everyone else did, too.  I hardly listened to the rest of the
service as I was too busy trying to look at others around me and was almost
surprised when the last Amen was said.  Aubrey Bayes prodded me.

     "That's over for another day," he said quietly, "Can't say I find it
interesting except I like to sing."

     I pondered that as we filed out but my thoughts were interrupted by
the young master with a white neckcloth above his high-necked black jacket
who had sat at the end of our row.  He tapped me on the shoulder.

     "You're Browning, aren't you?"

     I turned and said I was.

     "Good, you are in my form and I see you have Bayes as a helpmeet."  He
hurried off.

     "That's the Reverend Martin," Aubrey said, " I like him.  He's very
fair and he's very clever.  Won the Greek Verse Prize twice at Oxford then
was up at Cambridge for Divinity."

     Greek verse!  Uncle Dodd had tried with me but I wasn't very good at
getting the rhythm right whereas Robin always seemed to just get the metre
as well as the rhyme.  I would have to practice I knew, but I would never
be a Homer!  And Mr Martin was another clergyman.

     Anyway, Aubrey said we need not take any books to Mr Martin's class as
we would be given those we needed but said I would have to buy a good Latin
dictionary and a Greek lexicon.  I said I had both but would check with Mr
Martin to see if they were sufficient and rushed up to the room to collect
them.

     So, to my first class.  I counted fifteen of us already in the room.
Looking round I think I was the youngest with Bayes and another boy sitting
next to him.  Several of the older boys had moustaches and small beards so
I judged them to be sixteen or seventeen.  As we sat three other older ones
sauntered in and finally a scurrying figure appeared.  It was Theo.  He
spotted us and lumped down on the desk bench next to me.  "Had to see
George was alright," he whispered.

     Mr Martin looked up from behind the desk on the dais where he was
sitting. All looked up at him.

     "You have already been welcomed but we do have four newcomers here who
are joining us having lost five to this year's Sixth Form and we await
three of last year's who are still journeying."  He stood and read from a
piece of paper.  "So, welcome again to Archbold, Browning, Simpson and
Verity.  Please stand so your fellow sufferers can identify you and also
say which House you are in."

     The boy next to Aubrey stood and a quick glance over to my right
showed two slightly older boys, one with a discernible humped back.  He was
Verity and was in Carstairs' House as was Simpson next to him. I noted
their caps had dark blue tassels whereas mine for Ridley's House had light
blue.  Archbold in the front row was in Parker's House.  His tassel was
green.  Then it was my turn so I said my name very clearly and declared I
was in Ridley's House.  I think a couple of the boys looked at me rather
admiringly when I said that.  I had the impression that Mr Ridley chose the
boys in his House rather carefully.

     We four new ones were given sheets of paper and told to write about
ourselves while Mr Martin would question us individually about our prowess
in the major subjects of Latin, Greek, Mathematics, Geography and History.
The rest of the form were given a long passage from Virgil to construe and
there were a few groans which caused Mr Martin to laugh.

     "Perveniri ad summa sine industria non potest," he said, "That shall
be our motto.  Any new boy construe, please."

     My hand was up but the boy Verity called out 'One cannot reach the
highest without industry!'.  Mr Martin looked sharply at him.

     "You are correct but I prefer to see a boy's hand raised.  However,
non modo tibi non irascor, sed ne reprehendo quidem factum tuum."

     He must have seen me smile.  "Browning, tell me what I just said."

     "Sir," I responded immediately, "Not only are you not angry with
Verity..."  I had remembered his name. "... But you do not blame his action
of speaking out."

     He smiled, too, "Ita ut dicis."

     Yes, I knew that was what he had said!

     He nodded towards me. "Quot annos natus es?"  [How old are you?]

     I had better answer in Latin!  "Domine, quatuordecim annos natus sum."
[Sir, I'm 14.]

     He looked along the row.  "Et tu, Simpson?"

     Simpson was ready. "Idem magister."

     He looked behind me.  "Et tu, Veritas?

     I heard a giggle.  "Quindecim annos natus sum magister," Verity said.
Oh, a year older than me.

     "Et tu, Archbold?"

     "Quintum decimum annum ago, Sir."  [I am in my fifteenth year.]

     "Quando tibi natalis dies est?"  [When is your birthday?]

     There was a moment's pause.  "Natus tricesimo die mensis Novembris
sum, Sir."

     So Archbold was just five months older than me as I was born on the
thirtieth of April and Simpson was also fourteen.  I looked along at him.
He was very thin and looked rather pale and was looking about him rather
anxiously.

     Simpson was called to the dais first so I sat for a moment thinking
about what I should write.  Settling on a plan I described the village I
lived in and noted that my father bred horses as well as being a farmer of
three hundred acres.  I wrote that my two elder brothers had been at this
school but were now cavalry officers and that I had two married sisters as
well.  I said I had not attended a school before but had been tutored by my
Uncle, Dr Dodd, who was Rector of the parish and mentioned that my desire
was to become a physician, perhaps.  I was so engrossed in my task I did
not notice that the other two had also been up for questioning.  Just as I
paused wondering if I should tell of my enjoyment of riding Mr Martin
called my name.

     "Browning, it is your turn now."  I took up the three sheets I had
written on and made my way to the dais.  Verity had just finished being at
the desk and looked at me quizzically as he came towards me.  Yes, his
humped back was most noticeable and I noted he also had a lame leg.  I
smiled at him as we passed and he grinned back and nodded.

     All was very quiet in the room except for the scratch of pens and a
few sighs.  I heard a furtive whisper from behind me but could not make out
what was said.  I stood by the desk and held up the sheets.  Mr Martin took
them and looked at them without saying a word.  When he had read through
all I had written he nodded and smiled at me.

     "Well, Browning, you write a fair hand and your penmanship is bold and
well-formed.  There is a fluency in your account and I have a good idea of
where you are from and of your family and whoever taught you grammar and
syntax has done you a service.  A farm and horses.  I assume you ride."

     "Sir, that is a great pleasure for me.  I had my first pony when I was
five and have had a fine gelding since I was ten.  He is stabled here and I
miss not riding every day."

     "That must be remedied.  If your work is good we could allow an hour
perhaps most days but you would have to work hard during prep time."

     I had not heard that word before, 'prep', but assumed that was the
time when we prepared our work for the next school-day.

     He, like Verity, also regarded me quizzically.  "Dodd?  I was up with
a Dodd at St Mark's." He laughed.  "Yes, he was reading to be a physician
and we said his name was most appropriate.  Lancelot - as that was what he
would be doing when in practice."

     "That is my cousin, Sir.  He has said it is a good name and serves him
well."

     "Capital, capital!" he said with a laugh.  "He was a good student and
we had many good times together before he went to Edinburgh to finish his
training.  You must tell him you are now my pupil."  He put the papers
down.  "Now, you displayed some prowess at Latin, a little Greek now.  Tell
me, what would be the adverb of sophos?"  He scribbled the word in Greek
letters on the bottom of one of my sheets.  [wise]

     Ouch!  I would have to change omicron to omega in the genitive case
sophou and change the last letter upsilon to sigma.  It would sound
slightly different so I said it as I picked up a pen and scratched sophOs
below his word and wrote 'wisely' by the side.

     He smiled and nodded.  "Good.  Enough for the moment.  We will leave
questioning you any further as I see a slight restlessness amongst the more
industrious of our company.  Here, take this sheet of calculations and try
your best with them."

     I took the proffered sheet and saw there were wordy questions as well
as equations and a geometrical drawing.  I set to and was absorbed and only
dimly heard the various boys called on for their translations.  I did not
think I did too badly even with the geometry where I had to deal with
angles of the diagonals in a rectangle.

     After Mr Martin had finished with his interrogation of the others he
looked at his pocket watch.  "It is almost half past ten.  You may have a
break of fifteen minutes and then we will continue with our History of
England."  As the others rose and filed out he beckoned our new four.  "Do
not worry if things seem too strange but I have had this form for two years
now and we have made good progress with understanding how this country of
ours has reached our present eminence and status.  We do not deal with just
a catalogue of kings and queens as some classes do but try to understand
what has shaped us as we are. I think you will enjoy our discussions."  He
waved us out.

     I had warmed to Mr Martin immediately.  Yes, he did seem fair.  I did
not feel intimidated.  Although I had been intent on my task I had surmised
that the class as a whole was also earnest in their endeavours.  And no
construe or anything this evening!

     My ruminations were interrupted by my new companions who crowded round
the four of us.  Poor Simpson looked rather agitated by the attention as we
were assailed with questions from every side.  We four were moved apart and
I found myself with three of the older lads as well as Theo and young
Bayes.  I had to say where I was from and found my father's reputation as a
horse breeder was well-known.  One of the older ones had a brother who had
been at the school with Terence. He was Cartwright and his father was a
Colonel in India and said there would be much trouble out there soon as it
was with the Afghans.

     Young Simpson must have overheard this as he looked even more anxious.
Still, Cartwright said he did not intend joining the army as his uncle was
in the City and promised him a position once he had been to Oxford.  I
found out the other two older ones were Megson and Stewart and they were
much amused when I said George Lascelles had chosen me to be his companion
Hare in the Saturday chase.  "We shall all be running," Stewart said, "You
had better lay a good trail as I intend to try for the trophy."  There was
much banter about this.  The trophy for the older racers was an old fox's
brush lovingly cared for, so I was told, by Winstanley the Head Praepostor.

     "Old Win has won several races for each age in his time here," said
Megson, "But he said that he would not run this one to give us a better
chance.  He does not boast.  He has the strongest legs here."

     "And the strongest arm.  Make sure you do not get called up by the
Praepostors for some misdemeanour or your backside will be redder than
Usher Pullen's face."

     This caused a deal of merriment between the others.  We were joined by
some of the others who had Verity in their midst.  I heard several stories
then of their torment of Pullen especially when he was in his cups.  He
never knew who had undone his britches and painted his pizzle, nor who had
written 'arse tickler' on his forehead with black ink.  All in all it just
made him more irate and as he was usher to old Bartleby there was more
thrashing of the stupid oafs for minor offences than in any other form.

     "Most of them are too addled in their wits to know if their arses were
being warmed by the fire or by Pullen's rod," said a tall boy I learned was
Parmenter.

     "Pullen's rod would never be hard with all that drink," said another,
Cooper, I think.  "He is like that porter in Macbeth whose performance it
takes away."

     "What do you mean?" queried Megson, "I have read the play but do not
remember a porter."

     "You have read that version my sisters have no doubt," said Parmenter,
"But Cooper and I have read what Shakespeare actually wrote. 'Lechery, sir,
it provokes, and unprovokes: it provokes the desire but it takes away the
performance'.  He winked at me for no apparent reason. "You all can
translate that, no doubt!"

     'Lechery'.  Yes, I knew that word, too.  Robin and I had read
'Macbeth' curled up together on my bed with a candle between us over
several nights and had giggled over that particular passage.  Robin said it
was well-known that strong drink was not good for men's hardness.  He said
he had heard their neighbour shouting at her husband that his yard was no
more than three inches ever and was only good for pissing on the fire and
not for her pleasure.  As her husband was Rogers the parish constable who
spent most of his time in the ale-house we could guess what she meant.  Not
long after, Robin and I heard her squeals of delight when she was visited
in the lock-up next to their cottage by Lemuel Thatcher the Parish Clerk's
nineteen-year-old son. Guessing his intent we tried to peer through the top
barred window which had not been cleaned for years and saw only dimly a
bare arse rising and falling with increasing speed.  We made ourselves
scarce as the squeals and his exertions ceased.  Lemuel did not see us
watching him as he walked away with a great smile on his face.  After we
had helped each other to our own satisfactory ends we, too, had great
smiles on our faces.  Robin said he heard no more complaints from Mistress
Rogers as Lemuel was a frequent visitor after that.  He said Mr Rogers must
be pleased as he was even more often drunk and, truly, Lemuel's pizzle hard
was at least twice that of the poor constable's soft.  Yes, nosy Robin had
crept in and cleaned a patch of that window!

     There was a good deal of laughter at Parmenter's recital.  "I bet
sixpence that Pullen's yard couldn't get hard either," said Stewart, a
rather roly-poly lad with a mass of curly brown hair.

     "No bets," said Megson severely, "There is too much gambling in this
place."

     "Come off it, Meggers," said Parmenter, "It's only a tanner.  I'd take
it but how would we know?"

     "No bets, I say," repeated Megson, "But you'd have to see it out..."
He stopped and looked at Simpson and me.  "...Leave it!  We'll talk later."

     "While he's asleep," I said, "He was this morning and his britches
were loose and you said he has had his pizzle painted."

     There was renewed laughter.  "That is true, young Browning, but he was
no doubt still drunk from last night and soft with it," said Parmenter,
"That won't do."

     "Give Randy Annie a whistle," said Stewart, "I've heard she'd show
hers to anyone for fourpence."

     "And sixpence for a fingering," said someone at the back to a great
guffaw from Stewart.

     "Cheese it!" said Megson, "Keep it clean!"

     "Cheese it yourself, Meggers," said Stewart, "You're not in the
vicarage now.  Paulson said she's got so much hair..."

     Megson was now quite red-faced.  "...This is not the place for such
conversation."

     "And how does Paulson know?" asked Theo with a giggle, "He can only
see with those thick specs of his in a bright light!"

     "Not you, too, Davis!" said Megson, "And keep your fag out of it, too"

     I was incensed.  Although I was a new boy and in a lowly position in
his view I had had plenty of views of our own Randy Annie in our village.
Bessie Phillips was a bit light in the head and was wont to lift her skirts
when boys called out rude things to her.  As she wore no drawers the
display always drew cheers.  At least that was all she did as her father
made sure no randy lads got any nearer.  "No, lad," Isaac Barker had said
one day when the shouts could be heard in the forge, "I'd rather sting my
arse on a nettle bed than get too close to Bessie.  Her father's too handy
with that shot gun of his and likely to pepper your Netherlands with no
warning!"

     But I was not to comment.  Mr Martin appeared at the schoolroom door
and most obediently we filed back in.  On my desk was a copy of Smollett's
'History of England'.  I noted there were others on the desks of each of us
newcomers.

     After he had announced our construe to be prepared that evening was a
short passage from the Odyssey he then kept us both enthralled and amused
about his description of life at court during the reign of Charles the
Second.  He also lowered our spirits as he told of the plight of the
sailors and people along the Medway during the mid 1660's from the Dutch,
but raised them again when he quoted from Mr Pepys's diary when he was
Secretary to the Navy.  He said that the diary had been written in a
shorthand and had only been transcribed about twenty or so years back and
he had a copy of part which had then been published.  He also read us
passages about the plague and said we would study the Great Fire of London
as well.  I think we learned a lot from that lesson and Smollett's book
remained closed.

     I was ready for my luncheon and our form dispersed to our Houses and,
luckily, we were first into our diningroom.  Theo laughingly told me we
would be getting 'splosh' today.  This turned out to be good bowls of stew
with boiled potatoes and hunks of bread.  He also said quietly that I was
to take no notice of Megson whose father was a vicar and his son was too
religious for his own good.  I forbore to say that should make Theo even
more so as his father was a bishop.  But I had realised from knowing
Lancelot Dodd that you need not be over religious even though your father
was a clergyman.

     We were well into our stew when a rather sad-faced George came in and
sat opposite me holding an almost overflowing bowl.  "I do declare I have
learned naught this morning," he said when Theo asked him why he had such a
look.  "I cannot hear old Bartleby as I have been put at the back and
Rusholme and others in front of me play at dice or five stones while Pullen
strides up and down with that hazel switch of his."  He snorted.  "No, he
doesn't stride, just limps with those horrid eyes seeing what mischief he
can detect. Poor fat Collins had two strokes on his legs when he was slow
going up for Bartleby to hear his construe."

     "Did Old Bartleby hear you," Theo asked.

     George's countenance brightened somewhat.  "I did well, he said.  I
must thank you for your patience." He looked woebegone again. "He has given
us some Greek for tomorrow.  It is those definitive pronouns again.  I
cannot keep them in my head.  The others do not bother and he gives them
passages to write out which I am certain they do not understand.
Grimthorpe has two hundred lines of Caesar to copy by Monday for not
bothering to prepare his construe." His voice dropped to a whisper.  "He
said he would write in shit as Caesar stunk anyway."  He shook his head.
"I now sit beside him and he stinks himself.  I doubt he has seen water for
a month."

     "Do not worry we will help tonight.  We have some Greek, too. A
passage from Homer and young Tom and I will get that parsed and prettied in
no time."

     Poor George.  He looked ready to weep.  "I wish I had your thinking,"
he said.

     "George, but you are our Master of the Hounds on Saturday.  You will
lead the way in that.  You and young Tom will have the rest of us on your
heels and no one can doubt you will lay the best trails.  If someone else
had that task I am certain you would gain the trophy for our age."

     "Yes," said George after forking in a slab of meat from the stew and
chewing with gusto, "Old Bartleby did say he had heard I was laying the
trail and wished me well.  Perhaps he is in this world more than we know."

     Theo giggled.  "We always say that Bartleby lives on the moon as his
thoughts are far away, though I have heard he was a good scholar but his
eyes are now very bad.  That is why he has the Remove and that fiend Pullen
as his Usher."

     "But Mr Martin does not have an Usher," I said.

     "Why should he need one?" Theo said, "Did you note signs of disorder
or any noise this morning?  No, he does not need an Usher.  We are proud to
have Mr Martin and we all work hard to prepare for the Sixth Form."

     Yes, I had learned new things even in such a short time.  I wanted to
know more about Mr Pepys and I was intrigued by Mr Martin's remark that
sometime he would tell us the connection between oranges and dukes.  Theo
and one or two others had sniggered at this and Mr Martin had waved a hand
and pursed his lips and we passed on to other things.

     After lunch we assembled again in Mr Martin's room.  For an hour we
worked at arithmetical problems while we could hear the youngest of our
schoolfellows playing at football on the field outside.  Then while the
others worked on problems Mr Martin had the four new ones up to the dais
and we were questioned on our knowledge of algebra.  I made no errors in my
working of the examples he gave us even when we had to remove brackets and
there were negatives.  The easiest was a(b+c) - a(b-c) which I got as 2ac
straight away.  Uncle Dodd had always laughed as Robin and I tangled over
some of the exercises he gave us.  He said in all his years he had found
little use for algebra but Robin had said we used it all the time when
deciding how much feed we needed and the cost when my father had to make a
profit on a horse.  Uncle Dodd had roared with laughter at that and devised
a problem for us where we had to divide the Easter offering between those
deserving, those undeserving and those who were vagrants or travellers, in
different proportions.

     At the end of the hour we were dismissed.  Mr Martin beckoned me.
"You may ride now but make sure you have that Homer well done for the
morning."  His eyes twinkled as he said that.  I was overjoyed and said I
would see Theo later when he said I needed to be back for six o'clock for
the evening supper.

     I rushed to our room fumbling for my key tied round my neck.  Where
were my stockings and riding-shirt?  I wasted moments looking but they were
gone.  I hastily found other well-worn stockings and changed as rapidly as
possible into my riding-britches and put on my leather jerkin and,
remembering to lock the door, rushed down and to the stable.

     Robin must have been expecting me as he was standing with both Blaze
and Silver saddled.  He was holding onto Blaze but a rather dark visaged
lad was gripping the leading rein on Silver.

     Thank you, Timmy," he said as I took Blaze from him and led him to the
mounting- block.  I vaulted up and waited until he joined me on Silver. He
looked down at the boy.  "Make sure you rub some more liniment into
Tarquin's foreleg. I will help you when I get back with those pills for
him."

     We rode out of the yard then were side by side on the country lane we
entered.  "You seem content," I said as he smiled at me, "Is that the lad
you have as companion?  Where is he from?"  I had not seen such a
black-faced boy before.

     "Yes, that is Timmy.  I do not know if he has another name and I am
not sure of his ancestry.  He is thirteen and a half but strong as an ox
and he has to be to weather the insults and blows of his master.  I had to
hold him while he wept last night after the beating he received because
Tarquin was lame and it was not his fault.  If Mr Darlow hadn't said
'Enough' I think I would have punched his master even though he was bigger
than me."

     "Who is he?  Another boy?"

     "Yes, the other grooms call him Black Jack and he has an evil temper
they say.  It is the first time he rode to school and had Timmy riding
behind him when he wasn't making him run alongside."

     "Run alongside?"

     "Yes, Timmy said it was lucky the journey was short but he was used to
running about the fells when he was younger."

     We fell silent and broke into a trot.  Blaze was a good mount and
neighed softly as I bent forward and stroked his ears.

     "I am so glad we could come here together," Robin said after we had
ridden for a while and had returned to walking pace.  "I do miss our time
together, though, and I must make more effort with my study.  I have
written out what I have read in that first book of Herodotus."  He laughed.
"It is best that you do not read it as it might inflame your passions."

     "What do you mean?" I asked.

     He continued to laugh. "Uncle Dodd must have forgotten when he put
that volume in my satchel for it describes how the master who is king tells
his body-guard that he should endeavour to see his master's wife naked and
after he did the wife said he should kill the king.  It seemed strange as
those people did not permit even men to see each other naked.  I thought
from what we had read in other books that these Greeks were shameless and
wrestled and bathed naked as we have done many times."  He was silent for a
moment.  "And, dear Tom, I miss you so much in bed for we have wrestled
there many times, too."

     That was true.  Often when we had worked hard into the evening with
our study it was too dark and cheerless for Robin to go to his home in the
village.  He would share my bed and we would share secrets and play those
games of lust which growing boys delight in.

     "We must wait until we have ridden home at Christmas," I said, "But I
have not read that Herodotus and you must keep it safe until I can."  As I
never had secrets from my dearest friend I related what had happened the
night before and this morning.  He laughed outright.

     "My dear Tom, you did no more than you have done every day since you
found your pizzle was for more than to piss on old Mother Caudle's
cabbages."

     I grunted.  "And no more than you since the day you found that pissing
up the trunk of a tree higher than Jabez Bottom was no longer such good
sport!"

     We both laughed.  No doubt remembering that Jabez Bottom had the
lengthiest pizzle of any of our confederates.  Why, Isaac Barker had
challenged him to measure it against that of our Shetland pony which beat
him by less than a hand's breadth.  And that was when Jabez was our
scullery and boot boy before he went to London to work in Uncle Wright's
household.

     I could not resist it.  "And did you find relief last night?"

     He grinned across at me.  "Only behind the hay bales.  I do not know
yet if Timmy takes his pleasure and I have not seen him naked."

     "But you said he needed comforting last nigh."

     He smiled.  "I just held him until he fell asleep on his bed and he
was still clothed."

     He then pointed to a wide open field.  "Mr Darlow rode out here with
me this morning and said this all belongs to the school and is good as it
is firm and flat."  With that he set Silver off at a canter and then a
gallop and I followed.  It was good to feel the wind against my face and
Robin's black locks, as long as mine, streamed out behind him as mine must
have done.  We slowed down and rode back to the stables at a slower, steady
pace.

     "The stables look quite new," I said as we dismounted.

     "Yes, Mr Darlow says they are less than ten years old and replace old
barns.  We have forty horses stabled and places for five more and there are
eight of us boys with Mr Darlow and two older fellows.  I have four mounts
to care for.  The others are geldings, too, but older than ours and one
belongs to a master, Mr Pretyman, I am told but I have not met him yet.
That one has a slight mange and I must ask Mr Darlow for some ointment."

     "Do you intend becoming a horse-doctor as I intend to be a human
doctor?" I asked.

     He laughed.  "I think I could.  Your father has taught me well and he
is renowned for his cures."

     "But you could do better things," I said.  I was so fond of my dear
friend and was sad that I seemed to have so much more.

     "That I intend," he said with that wrinkle of his nose which always
began one of his plans.  "But first, I must see to Blaze and Silver then
help young Timmy with Tarquin."  His radiant smile was what I treasured and
that appeared.

     "Good night, sweet prince, until tomorrow," I whispered as I turned to
walk away.  I wanted to hug him but I saw two of his companion lads
approaching.

     I hurried back to our room pausing only to shed my shirt in the
washroom and dousing my head and torso under the pump in the corner.  I
shook myself and used my shirt to mop most of the water.  Both Theo and
George were there when I entered.

     "I hear you have been riding," said George, looking up from the pages
he had been scribbling on.  "My, we know you have," he said, twitching his
nose.

     Theo looked up, too, from the seat beside him at the desk.  "The boy
does not stink.  Take no notice young Tom."  He looked at me steadily as I
breathed in and out from my exertions in running up the two flights of
stairs.  "You have washed I see."  I puffed my chest out.  He smiled.  "You
are quite the young Adonis..."

     I struck a theatrical pose and stroked my right hand down my left arm
to the tips of my fingers.  "'While smooth Adonis from his native rock ran
purple to the sea...'"

     "What in the name of Beelzebub are you talking about?" said George.

     "'Paradise Lost', my dear fellow," said Theo with a grin, "He knows
our greatest poet, too."

     George eyed me and shook his head.  "What else can our new found
friend do?"

     "I do play the flute," I said and stopped.  I might be boasting.

     "And with George on the tongs and the bones we should have a merry
sound," said Theo.

     "What is it now?" asked George, "'Tongs and bones'?  I have heard that
but it's not me."

     "'Midsummer Night's Dream', eh, young Tom," said Theo, "And do you
have your flute with you?"

     I nodded, "It is wrapped in my chest."

     "Capital!" said Theo, "Saturday night all you new bugs have to
entertain in Big Hall.  That's over next to Parker's House and all the
school will be there for the awarding of the trophies after the chase."  He
laughed.  "Or, all those who are not roaring drunk and pissing against
trees like Macauley last night." He was serious again.  "Are you good?"

     "We have a village band and I join in.  My..."  I nearly said
'friend'.  "...groom Robin plays the fiddle."  I didn't add that both of us
also played the church organ having been taught by my Aunt Matty Dodd.

     "Then you must play.  It must be something cheerful, though."

     I nodded.  I could play a couple of Scotch reels or a country dance or
two Mr Venables our bandmaster had taught us for village dances.

     I needed to change and get ready for supper.  I took off my riding
boots, stockings and britches and stood just in my under drawers which were
rather short in the leg.  Both boys were watching me as I took up my school
shirt and pulled it over my head.  I was aware my young pizzle dangled free
as I did this.  Perhaps I was not as blessed as Jabez but even at fourteen
I had a good five inches of softness when heated as I was.  As I continued
to dress a thought struck me.

     "My dirty riding shirt and stockings?  I could not find them."

     George laughed.  "I am a good housemaid and cleared up after the young
master dropped his under garments.  I gave them to our doughty Japhet whose
mother washes and irons for us.  We are favoured as usually she launders
only for our tutors but will remove the smell of horse and young boy for
sixpence a week.  And you will also get a piece of her gingerbread as
well."

     "What our good oaf means..." said Theo, "...is that Mrs Williams does
all our things for sixpence a week and we will share the expense."

     Good, I had not known what would be the arrangements.  I had seen some
shirts hanging at the back of a house when we rode up to the stables today
and had wondered then.

     "Thank you," I said, "And do I call the housemaid Georgina?"

     George snorted as Theo giggled.  "I'll have those britches off you,
whipper-snapper, and you'll be running purple on that fine young arse of
yours."

     "My, our George has learned some poetry!" said Theo as George took a
side swipe at him and missed.

     Now dressed I was ready for supper but folded my older clothes and put
them on an upper shelf.  George was also ready for food as he took this to
be a signal to stop his studies.

     "Come on, Theodore, my stomach is so empty I can hear my belly button
rattling against my backbone."  He stretched and stood up and indicated the
door with his thumb.

     After supper none of us three tarried with the others who waited for
the tables to be cleared so they could amuse themselves with cards and
chess.  George settled at the desk with a loud sigh.  "Theo, please, once
more.  I must have those pronouns for tomorrow."

     I thought I would help so stood beside him and pointed at the paper
before him on the desk.  "Why not make a table," I said, "Four lines and
just do the singular for nominative, accusative, genitive and dative with
masculine, feminine and neuter across the top."  I took up his pencil and
scribbled 'autos' on the sheet in front of him and wrote 'self' beside it."
I then wrote 'autos', 'aute' and ' auto' across from 'Nominative'.  Theo
took over.  He wrote 'himself', 'herself' and 'itself' under my words.
Gradually we filled the table with George mouthing each word as it was
written.  We did not puzzle him by going into more detail as long as he
knew just these.  Poor George.

     I looked up the passage for the construe from the Odyssey.  I had seen
these lines before as they were from the beginning of book one.  I tried my
best.  'Tell me my Muse of that man of many parts..." I began and was
pleased as I only had to check about six words in my lexicon in those first
eight lines.  I did not look at the translation which Uncle Dodd had
slipped into my hands just two days before I left home.  "Try not to
cheat," he said with his usual smile, "But this tells a tale of great
adventures and is even better than a penny-dreadful!"

     Theo kept an eye on George, as he copied down rows of the words
without looking at the contents of the table, and managed his own construe
at the same time and also made headway with the sheet of mathematical
problems I had almost finished this morning.  We did not cheat.  We looked
neither at cribs nor each other's work. We just grinned at each other as we
scribbled our solutions to Greek and mathematics.

     In the end George saw we had completed our tasks and breathed a sigh
of relief.  "I will know it all no better.  I think Tom has a reward for
us.  A slice of that ham, eh?  I'll get a crust or two from the kitchen."

     He was off like a shot and Theo laughed.  "Our George and his belly.
You do not mind?"

     No, I did not mind.  I knew the ham was good.  It had been smoked
carefully by our stalwart butcher and it was from one of our own young
porkers.  I got up and took one from it's canvas bag. And sniffed it.
"Even better than horse," I said.  Theo laughed.

     "George's nostrils are very sensitive.  I wager he can smell plum duff
at fifty yards.  That is why he makes sure we get to the outhouse early."
He smiled. "I did not ask before but you have not found your work difficult
so far?"

     I said I had not and any competence I had was due to the good teaching
of my Uncle Dodd, but I would be glad if we could share any problems we
might have. Two heads are often better than one.  Theo nodded and agreed
and said we must also include George as he needed a good deal of help.

     It didn't take long for George to return from his errand.  "Mrs
Partridge was still there and said she wished all boys were as polite as
me," he said displaying a platter with bread and lump of butter, "My mother
says I can turn on the charm whenever it is needed."

     Theo tossed his head.  "He's useful, young Tom.  We've had many an
extra when he flutters those lashes of his at the cooks.  I wonder if they
will have the same effect on younger ladies when he goes a-wooing."

     "When I'm ready then I'll try.  Now where is that good sharp knife of
mine?"  He rummaged in a bag by the side of the bed and drew out an ornate
dirk of some kind.  He held it up for my inspection.  "My father was given
this by an old Scotch chieftain when he offered shelter to him and his
companions some twenty years ago.  They were off to America so he told me.
Why, I do not know."

     Didn't George know about the clearances which my father had said were
still going on today?  But, good food was here.  George proved to be expert
with the knife.  Thin slices of succulent ham were soon devoured by three
boys who not long ago had filled up with hot meat broth and bread.  George
breathed another sigh as the last remnants of slices of ham and bread
disappeared.  He burped.  "My father says it is polite in some heathen
countries and I do not know why we do not have that custom."

     Theo had also finished his repast.  "You would say that, too, if you
made a fart."

     George looked affronted.  "I would not.  Only uncouth creatures like
Pullen and that stinking hound Grimthorpe would make that excuse.  Now
young Tom have you decided when I might ride?"

     We discussed times and I found that after Chapel on Sunday morning we
were free for most of the day until the evening service.  The only rule was
that we spent time writing home any time after lunch.  I said I would
consult Robin and make arrangements for any of us to ride.  Theo said he
would leave horseflesh well alone until later.  I then told them what Robin
had told me about the young lad and his beating from some older boy.  I
then said the young lad was dark-coloured and his name was Timmy and the
older boy was called Black Jack.

     "Black fucking Jack!!" George almost shouted, "That's my evil bloody
cousin!!"

To be continued: