Date: Wed, 4 Jul 2012 15:56:22 +0000
From: Jo Vincent <joad130@hotmail.com>
Subject: Tom Browning's Schooldays Ch 39

			 Tom Browning's Schooldays

				    By

				   Joel

			    Chapter ThirtyNine


Philip did as he was told and we all followed him to the big window in the
Library.  He held up the plate.

     "It is my opinion it is of Greek origin," Uncle Dodd said, "Look how
fine that drawing is."

     In the centre of the plate was surely a most skilled depiction of a
boy holding some long-eared animal to his chest.  A hare, no doubt.

     "Is it a hare the boy is holding?" I asked.

     Lancelot pointed at the animal.  "It is my opinion it is so," he said
in imitation of his father. "I would hazard it is an example of Lepus
europaeus.  However, I am not certain that particular species appears in
Greece."

     His father laughed.  "Lancelot, my boy, does it matter what species.
It is surely a thing of great beauty."

     Robin looked at the plate very carefully as Philip held it up very
carefully.  "I warrant that animal would not be carried off to be jugged.
There is a look of great fondness in that boy's eyes.  He would be
distraught to be parted from it."

     Robin had expressed a true opinion.  I wondered why such a beautiful
object had been consigned to a cellar?  I was inquisitive.

     "What is in your box, Lancelot?" I asked.

     Both Lancelot and Uncle Dodd had put their boxes on the Library table.
Lancelot delved into his and laid out six smallish framed pictures. He
pointed to the second in the row.

     "I have seen this one before.  It was hung in my tutor's room at St
Mark's.  His was framed differently.  I believe it is a an engraving by an
artist named Hogarth.  I think it is his depiction of Southwark Fair in the
last century."

     "In the last century?" Robin looked quite taken aback when he asked
the question, "Are they as old as my new violin?"

     Uncle Dodd looked at him and smiled.  "I saw your gift from Miss
Barnes in Venables' shop when he was putting new strings on it.  You have
it now?"

     "Oh, I have and it is the most wonderful instrument," he said most
enthusiastically.

     "Then we will hear you play after luncheon," Uncle Dodd ordered. "But
Mr Hogarth comes first, though he was drawing after your violin was made."

     Poor Robin looked rather abashed but Philip touched his hand and
smiled up at him.  "I would like to hear you play.  I miss you scratching
away in the evenings."

     He moved smartly away but Robin was laughing now.  He put his arm
round Philip's shoulder.  "You are still my cheeky little brother.  And I
will play for you."

     I was still looking at the pictures.  I could see two were of
religious subjects.  There was one labelled 'The Pool of Bethesda' and
another 'The Good Samaritan'.  There were two others which were also
engravings I thought.  I could make out 'The Roast Beef of Old England' on
one and 'Royal Masquerade' on the other.  The sixth was an exquisite
coloured picture of a couple looking out over a balustrade towards trees
and a river with a country house in the background.

     "I think I like that one the most," I said pointing to the last one.

     Uncle Dodd bent down and peered at it closely.  "I do not know where
the house is.  It is certainly most fine."  He straightened up.  "I think
we should look in this final box.  I must confess I think I know who are
depicted in these."

     He laid out on the table four small oval miniature portraits.  I knew
they were called 'miniatures' as my mother had two similar on the wall of
her boudoir, of herself and her long-dead brother, both as children.  These
were like that pair but were of two girls and two young boys.

     Both Robin and I let out hoots of laughter while Lancelot giggled and
Philip looked on rather bewildered.

     "Who are they?" he demanded as our laughter subsided.

     I could hardly speak but managed with a few splutters.  "These must be
my father and Uncle Billy and my two aunts," I said, "But I am not sure who
is who."

     All four were alike in features and the boys were distinguishable from
the girls by the lacy collars on their jackets whereas the two girls had
rounded collars with a medallion or brooch in the centre.  All had long,
dark hair.  The girls' hair in ringlets and the boys straight but with the
ends curled.

     Uncle Dodd was also laughing. He pointed to one of the portraits, that
of a girl.  "I wager that is my dear wife.  She has that brooch still but
does not wear it."  He picked up the beautifully framed object and looked
at it most closely.  He shook his head.  "I do not think I have seen finer
painting than this.  It must have been done by a master."

     "Why are they all in the cellar?" I asked then remembered what my
father had said about my grandfather destroying portraits of himself and my
grandmother.  Someone must have rescued these and hid them before they were
also got rid of.  The other things, the plate and the pictures must have
been grandmother's, too.  There had been silence after my question.  I
repeated then what my father had said at that meal.

     Uncle Dodd was the first to answer.  "I would hazard a guess that some
faithful servant knew what had happened and put them there as in a place of
safety.  I only knew your grandfather for a few months before he died and
he was a broken man after his wife had died some time past."  He looked at
the plate which Philip had laid on the table.  "As we do not know if Tom's
father know these have survived I think we should put the pictures and the
portraits away and ask him about the plate."  He shook his head.  "It is
uncommonly beautiful."

     Philip looked as if he would have liked to have possessed that.  I
thought that he would make a copy of it.  "Have you pencil and paper?" I
asked him as he was still looking down at the plate.

     He looked up and smiled.  "I would like to draw that if I may.  I have
a pencil here but no paper."  He drew out a pencil stub from a pocket.

     Lancelot went to the desk against the wall.  "Here, Philip, will this
suffice?"  He held up a sheet of good writing paper.

     Philip took it from him and as we watched he quickly made what to me
looked like an exact copy of the outline and then with deft strokes he
began to fill in the detail.  He looked at what he had drawn.  "It is not
finished and I have been too hurried in my excitement at seeing it."  He
looked up at Uncle Dodd.  "Please, Uncle, I would like more time to
complete a better copy."

     Uncle Dodd patted him on the back.  "You certainly will, my boy, but
what you have done is good."

     "Not good enough, Uncle," the lad said with conviction.

     It was then that Mr Clements came along the passageway to the door.
He bowed his head towards Uncle Dodd.  "Sir, we have luncheon ready in the
breakfast room, as arranged."

     Lancelot and Uncle Dodd put the pictures into the two boxes but left
the plate in the centre of the table.  Philip tried to say he had to go
home for his luncheon but Uncle Dodd said he was to stay on my mother's
orders and no doubt James would finish his share if his mother let him.

     Mr Clements led the way to the breakfast-room and Jackson was there
ready to serve us.  Philip had been brought up well and knew his manners at
table as had Robin.  His eyes almost sparkled as Jackson filled his plate
for him with an assortment of hot cut meats.  There was a good rich sauce
and boiled potatoes as well.  Uncle Dodd said he was hungry and I noted
both he and Lancelot almost vied with each other on the amounts chosen.  I
wondered if Mrs Reynolds was rather too busy in preparing for her
daughter's wedding to make sufficient for grown men and, of course, Aunt
Matty.  I wanted to ask Lancelot about the injuries to the lady and
gentleman in the coach but he mentioned them without any prompting from me.

     "I had an interesting encounter earlier this morning, father," he said
after a great plateful had been emptied and he was eyeing the heated dishes
again.  Uncle Dodd paused in his eating.

     "I heard someone had called for you to go to the Varley Arms," he
said, "Simpson said there had been a coach overturned."

     Lancelot shook his head.  "No, father, a coach slid from the road
round the bend in the High Street.  I would say it was being driven too
fast.  A gentleman and his wife were bruised and it was the quickest
sovereign I have earned I would make bold to say."  He looked at me.  "What
did I apply medicinally?"  My mouth was full but I managed to whisper
'Arnica?'.  "Correct, the best remedy for bruises, so, while I was applying
it the man asked me if they were on the right road through the village for
Bitchfield.  I said they were and to take the road through Corby and then
look for the signpost to the left.  It was then he put a sovereign on the
table and did not ask my fee."  He laughed.  "I did not argue but then,
while I was closing my medicine box, I heard him say to his wife in a low
voice that they ought to travel on as soon as possible.  She said they
could not go until the wheel was repaired and as I walked off he was
muttering about money owed."

     "You think they were going to that man Cavendish at Bitchfield Hall,
eh?" my uncle questioned.

     "And I warrant Mr Cavendish has a creditor on his tail," my cousin
said with a certain finality.  My uncle was nodding but more food was also
on his mind.  As it happened each of us was supplied with another helping
and I heard Philip whisper to Robin that James would be sorry to have
missed this though he would have more than enough at home.

     Even after two full platters there was room for hot fruit tart with
cream and that would keep us replete until tea time or even until dinner
this evening.

     Uncle Dodd stretched himself as he stood.  He looked at Philip.  "Come
along, my good man, you have work to do upstairs.  I will come and hold the
other end of your measuring-tape and take any notes you dictate.  Then we
will return to the Rectory and you can draw what is necessary."

     My, oh my!  A respected Doctor of Divinity being a willing aide to a
young lad!  But, then, I thought, young Philip is not an ordinary young
lad.  Even that quick sketch of the boy with the hare was something quite
extraordinary.

     Lancelot said he would take himself back to the Rectory as he wished
to do some dissecting before he returned to the Hall for dinner.  He winked
at me.  I said that Robin and I would accompany him as I surmised he was
going to deal with those ballocks from the foals.  I also wanted to ask him
about my possible purchase of a microscope which I could do on the next
visit to London.  I did not think Robin responded with as much enthusiasm
as I, but he enjoyed rummaging through the strange books which Lancelot had
collected on his travels to Paris and beyond.  Of course, Uncle then said,
as he and Philip left the room, that he would hear us on Herodotus and
adjectives when he returned to the Rectory!

     We collected our cloaks, hats, gloves, Herodotus and my scribbled page
and finding a sleeping Bobby Brewer in a mound of hay beside the brazier in
the Hall stable.  It was Blaze whinnying that woke him with a start.
Lancelot laughed as Bobby roused himself with abject apologies.  "Do not
worry, Master Brewer," Lancelot said, "You have early morning duties and I
must examine that leg of yours again sometime, too."

     That was something else.  I had not enquired whether Eamonn's worms
and that boy Paul's hand had been cured.  More questions to be asked in
time.

     It was somewhat chilly in Lancelot's room at the Rectory but he
explained it would not be good for his specimens in their jars to get
overheated.  He lit several candles to give light and as he pinned down and
dissected one of the ballocks we forgot the cold and the smell of the
liquid they were preserved in.  Long strands of thin tubes were extracted
and Lancelot explained these were where the progenitive particles called
spermatozoa were produced and carried ready to be ejected.  He said the
foals were like young boys and were not yet ready to make their living
cells.  "What is interesting is no matter what animal I have had the
opportunity to examine in these parts the structures are very similar."

     "Would that mean if you dissected one of mine you would observe such
things as those?" asked Robin, with something of a look of distaste, as he
pointed to the untangled and splayed object on the board.

     "I would not wish to remove that precious possession but, yes, I would
expect to unravel it just like that one."  He smiled.  "I would expect some
differences as you are more than a young boy and I would find evidence of
those living particles."

     Robin flushed a little at that and both of us remained silent.  I
wanted to ask about the purchase of a microscope but I could imagine the
response as Lancelot would assume I wished to inspect my spermatozoa, - a
new word I would relish, - just as we had examined a drop of water from the
river.

     Lancelot caught our silence.  "Boys, there is no harm in proper talk
about our bodies.  Tom in his studies will have to make many examinations
of parts which are generally hidden from view.  You will have realised that
all male animals after a certain time will, if they are not like those
gelded foals, produce what is needed to help generate new members of their
species.  We have discussed this before and you both are of an age to make
amounts of those fluids..."

     I needed to know.  "...But I have heard that if you pleasure too much
you become mad.  A doctor in London said that of that evil Black Jack!" I
exploded.

     That outburst of mine stopped anymore thought of dissecting.  Lancelot
gently asked me what I had heard and from whom.  I poured out the whole
story and Lancelot listened intently.  I left out the torment of George but
did not hold back on what Jabez had told me about Black Jack and his
treatment and what the eminent doctor had said.

     Lancelot was looking quite serious as I finished my tale.  "That is a
quite abhorrent story.  That Jack Lascelles is someone to keep away from."
He shook his head.  "His cousin Geoffrey is not of that ilk and from what
you say about George he is clearly a good fellow as well.  Now to your
worries.  I will speak plainly.  I, too, have witnessed demented lads and
men in confinement and true, they do as you say, and as much as possible.
That eminent physician likes to believe their madness lies in those
actions.  However, it may be quite different." He looked directly at me.
"If you were light in your wits and had nothing else to do all day and
everyday how would you spend your time?"

     It was my turn to flush as I thought of the number of occasions being
tired of learning, or having nothing to do and being bored, I had resorted
to that delightful activity.  My wits were sound I hoped.  Both Lancelot
and Robin saw my heightened colour.

     "Do not fear," Robin said, "You are not the only boy who has crept
away when he has had an urgent need.  I confess to you both."  He shook his
head.  "And I do not think my wits are harmed."

     Lancelot laughed.  "Then you are confirming my thesis.  I have argued
this with several of my fellows who are quite as convinced as that eminent
doctor is of that connection, which I think is spurious."  He patted my
arm.  "You will find many beliefs which you either accept or question.  I
prefer to question and that has stood me in good stead many times.  I would
say in years to come we shall know what causes diseases of many kinds.  I
cannot subscribe to such ideas as a single cause such as a harmful miasma.
I question why different outcomes should be attributed to a solitary source
Also as a physician I prefer to act with caution and only repeat those
things which I can see are of benefit."

     His words were of the greatest interest to me.  He was saying in
another way what Uncle Digby had advised me.  'Observe the little things
and learn'.  "Your treatment of the boy with the wounded hand was like
that," I said as my thoughts returned to a quietness after my outburst,
"You had observed and used that method for both the boy and Mr Jarvis."

     "That is true," Lancelot said with a smile, "Since then I have used
the same three more times and I have noted that treatment is most
efficacious.  I shall continue and make notes and judgements."

     "What about the babe that died?" I asked rather hesitantly, "Could
nothing be done there?".

     He shook his head.  "I only saw him after he died when Goodwife Benbow
told me of the fit.  He was very small and was not full-term, not more than
twenty-six weeks I would estimate.  Mrs Lovell had also had a fall the week
before.  I would say the child had little chance to thrive and I was
thankful that my father had visited that afternoon."

     We were silent then as Lancelot began to clear away the unravelled
remains of that poor foal's ballock.  He smiled as he wrapped it in a piece
of old news-sheet.  "I must take care this consigned to the fire or Nelly
might think it is for breakfast!"

     We both made retching sounds and then laughed.

     "Thank you, Lancelot, for putting my mind at rest.  There is much to
think about," I said once we had settled.  I noted Robin nodding at my
statement.

     "But you are still troubled about your father's compromise?" Lancelot
asked me directly.  It was if he could read my mind.

     I nodded.  "Your father is our Justice of the Peace and rightly should
have been informed of the theft of the knife and what happened to those
boys," I said.  I hope I didn't sound too priggish.

     "I can lessen your agitation.  My father is fully aware of the whole
train of incidents.  He is writing also to the constable and the Justice
for that village.  This is a procedure which has occurred on occasions
before when the boundary between our two counties has been crossed.  There
is no difficulty caused by the decision.  The crime occurred here but will
be dealt with in due course under the direction of the local powers from
whence the perpetrators came."

     I was still somewhat perplexed.  "The assumption is that the
miscreants were from Pickworth.  What if they were thieves and vagabonds,
or cut-throats, from elsewhere who have ridden quite away?"

     Lancelot smiled.  "I take the point of that argument.  If we are wrong
then we are party to a criminal act.  If that were so then the criminals
have got away.  However, I am riding to Pickworth tomorrow to ask the
surgeon there if anyone has consulted him with a wound.  I know him well so
will find the truth.  The description of the knife and a trail of blood
drops away from where the knife was found suggests quite a cut to the
perpetrator.  I wager he was not aware of how sharp a butcher's knife could
be."

     "Did Eamonn see the trail?" Robin asked.

     Lancelot nodded.  "I asked him that evening and his description was
good.  He is a most observant lad."

     "So you consider that justice will be done?" I probed.  I was still
not settled in my thoughts.

     "That is what we must hope.  Trust me, I will make more enquiries."
He grinned at me.  "I am to be my father's inquisitor and people tend to
say what they know to someone who seems not to be on official duty although
I shall also deliver the letters."

     I thought that perhaps Lancelot should apply to Uncle Digby for a
position!  I said no more but I would not be satisfied until I heard of a
proper outcome.

     We noted that Lancelot rinsed his hands in a bowl of clean water after
setting the small parcel aside.  He saw us looking.  "I have also observed
that dirt seems to carry the particles or whatever the causes are for
making pus as I have told you before.  Mrs Gray has told me since I made
the rule last summer that all the kitchen helpers must wash their hands
before they enter that most holy domain we have not had any outbreak of
'the runs' as she calls it."

     "How do you know it is the washing of hands which prevents it," I
asked wrinkling my brow.

     He raised a finger.  "Observe the consequences of a rule I would say."

     Robin was in an inquisitive mood, too.  "Your scalpels and knives you
use.  What about those?"

     Lancelot smiled.  "I observed many surgeons when I was a student and
found that when new knives or scalpels were used then the patient was not
likely to suffer from rotting of the flesh.  My tutors were not of that
view and I was told to keep my thoughts to myself.  Their view in general
was that any putrefaction lay within the patient."  He shook his head.  "I
do not think so."

     I was in awe of my cousin.  Every time we met I learned something new
and things which I could ponder over.  Lancelot had had enough for the
afternoon. I did manage to ask for new supplies for my apothecary's chest
and he smiled and said I should send the box over to him and he would
replenish whatever was necessary.  He waved us off to see if Mrs Reynolds
had any sustenance for us before we were assailed by his father. He was
laughing as he said this.  Whether at the fluster Mrs Reynolds was in over
the forthcoming marriage feast or the knowledge that our brains would be
made to ache.

     Both tasks were accomplished with good results.  Mrs Reynolds wanted
an opinion on her gingerbread.  Good and very tasty.  Uncle Dodd was more
intent on helping Philip who had completed his measurements in the two
rooms and only questioned Robin on the reasons Solon had given putting
Biton and Cleobis into the second place of the happiest of mortals and then
I had to recite the comparative and superlative of 'wise' and 'clear'.  I
did not need to use my scribbles as the two were close in their stems,
'sopho' and 'saphes' and he, no doubt, used that to make sure I had the
difference clearer in my thinking.  Oh, the wisest of men!

     We were dismissed and no further work was set but we were to be at the
graveside before ten in the morning and in church on Saturday to attend the
wedding at noon.  He thought he might be at dinner tonight as my mother and
his dear wife, as he said, were looking at all the purchases brought back
from London.

     Back at Careby Hall we did not tarry downstairs but went straight to
our bedroom where the rest of the books and parcels had been stacked.  We
set the books on end and picked out the ones I had chosen for Philip and
James.  Robin thought they were good choices and was most intrigued with
the book for Philip showing drawings of different contrivances and their
workings. There were storybooks for James, a new primer for grammar and a
book of maps.  Benjy would be given his own copy of 'Pickwick Papers' and
two packets of bonbons.  I had others to share with the twins, Eamonn, the
kitchen-boys and girls. My supply would be very diminished and I would be
restricted in what sweetmeats I could take to Ashbourne for friends there.
Robin would have a share, too.  I thought my mother would have a good
supply as well and I could wheedle some from her.  I put my apothecary's
box ready for Benjy or one of the other servants to take to the Rectory.

     We settled by the fire and read and chatted until we thought it might
be time to go down for dinner which had been announced for seven o'clock.
We had timed it exactly which drew the usual comments from my father as he
was already sitting at the head of the table in the diningroom.

     "I have seen tardier cattle approaching the byre but these two would
miss the best beets or hay.  It is more by luck that we have not yet been
served."

     He said this to the only other occupant of the diningroom, my cousin
Lancelot who was standing by the fireside.

     "Is my mother not approaching?..."  I did not continue as it would be
rude of me to do so.  In any case my father held up a finger.

     "We will say no more," he said but it was not said harshly.  He turned
to Lancelot.  "Is your father attending tonight?"

     "He said he would, but after dealing with Philip and his measurements
he wanted to see that the grave had been dug for tomorrow."

     My father looked solemn then smiled.  "Has the lad made peace with my
wife?"

     The three 'lads' present also smiled.  "Philip has made more
measurements and mother has suggested accommodation for those dispossessed
while work is in progress," I said, not mentioning waifs.  I would leave
that to my mother.

     There was movement in the passage outside and the sound of feminine
laughter.  My mother and Aunt Matty entered as father stood.  Another
figure was hurrying to join them, Uncle Dodd.

     My mother surveyed the menfolk.  "I hope I have not kept you waiting
but Matty and I have had serious matters to discuss."  Father's chest was
heaving and just then there was the sound of the dinner gong.  Mr Clements
was slightly tardy!

     Just as we were seated, with Aunt Matty sitting between Robin and me,
so a procession of dishes and platters were brought in by Jackson, Benjy,
Eamonn and Timmy.  All were in their plain grey livery as I surmised there
would be cleaning and mending to be done with the fine livery they would
wear on Saturday.  The array of dishes presaged well for that dinner.  Mrs
Gray had provided us with a foretaste of what would appear then.  There was
a rich, game soup followed by three main courses of fish and meats.  A
lemon sorbet was brought in to cleanse our palates between the fish and
meat courses.  There were two wines and I chose a light claret which Uncle
Dodd said was another from his College cellar.  Our puddings were varied as
usual.  A sweet syllabub and a helping of a translucent pink jelly, shaped
like the Tower of Babel, as Uncle Dodd said, filled up my last corners.

     Aunt Matty asked if I had unpacked my London goods and I explained
about my books and the abundance of clothing.  She said she had a proper
school chest for Robin and as we were going to be accompanied by the coach
we could fill both his and mine as we wished.  She nudged him.  "There are
new things to come across from the Rectory tomorrow," she said.  I could
not see his face but I wondered if he was overwhelmed again.
     Talk then moved to the arrangements for Saturday.  We all hoped
Torquil and Geoffrey would be arriving safely tomorrow.  I wondered if a
letter would have arrived with news from our brother-in-law about St
Paul's.  At last it was time to move as all had finished eating.  My mother
suggested we would be all be quite comfortable again in the parlour.

     As everyone settled and Jackson circulated with the decanter of port
and a bottle of the sweet wine so Uncle Dodd slipped out.  I assumed it was
to use the pot in the cupboard in the diningroom as it would not be polite
to avail himself of the one kept in this room.  However he was back quickly
and holding that object discovered in the cellar, the Greek plate with the
depiction of the boy with the hare.  My father was about to light his pipe
with a spill from the fire but looked up and gasped.

     "Where was that found?" he asked, dropping the lighted spill back onto
the fire, "I have not seen that for forty years.  I thought it had been
destroyed!"


To be continued:

p.s.  If you enjoy reading all the stories published on Nifty please
consider making a contribution to the running of the site.  Best wishes and
happy reading!  J