THE VENOMOUS BEASTS.
Above the Inches, the town’s manure was laid down,—at a part now covered by the railway station. The heaps were remarkably prolific in beetles, rats, sparrows, and numerous kinds of flies. Then the Denburn, at the foot of the Green, yielded no end of horse-leeches, powets (tadpoles), frogs, and other creatures that abound in fresh or muddy water. The boy used daily to play at these places, and brought home with him his “venomous beasts,” as the neighbours called them. At first they consisted, for the most part, of tadpoles, beetles, snails, frogs, sticklebacks, and small green crabs (the young of theCarcinus mœnas); but as he grew older, he brought home horse-leeches, asks (newts), young rats—a nest of young rats was a glorious prize—field mice and house mice, hedgehogs, moles, birds, and birds’ nests of various kinds.
The fishes and birds were easily kept; but as there was no secure place for the puddocks, horse-leeches, rats, and such like,—they usually made their escape into the adjoining houses, where they were by no means welcome guests. The neighbours complained of the venomous creatures which the young naturalist was continually bringing home. The horse-leeches crawled up their legs and stuck to them, fetching blood; the puddocks and asks roamed about the floors; and the beetles, moles, and rats, sought for holes wherever they could find them.
THE INCORRIGIBLE BOY.
The boy was expostulated with. His mother threw out all his horse-leeches, crabs, birds, and birds’ nests; and he was strictly forbidden to bring such things into the house again. But it was of no use. The next time that he went out to play, he brought home as many of his “beasts” as before. He was then threatened with corporal punishment. But that very night he brought in a nest of young rats. He was then flogged. But it did him no good. The disease, if it might be so called, was so firmly rooted in him, as to be entirely beyond the power of outward appliances. And so it was found in the end.
Words and blows having failed to produce any visible effect, it was determined to keep him in the house as much as possible. His father, who was a handloom weaver, went to his work early in the morning, and returned late at night. His meals were sent to him during the day. The mother, who had her husband’s pirns to fill, besides attending to her household work, was frequently out of the way; and as soon as she disappeared, Tom was off to the Inches. When any one made a remark about her negligence in not keeping a tighter hold of the boy, her answer was, “Weel, I canna be aye at his heels.” Sometimes he was set to rock the cradle. But on his mother’s arrival at home, she found the rocker had disappeared. He was also left to play with the younger children; but he soon left them to play by themselves.
He was occasionally sent a message, though herarely fulfilled it. He went to his old haunts, regardless of the urgency of the message. One morning he was sent to his father’s workshop with his breakfast; but instead of going there, he set off for the Stocket, several miles from town, with two other loons.[4]Tom induced them to accompany him. The Stocket was a fine place for birds and birds’ nests. They searched all day, and returned home at night. The father never received his breakfast. It was eaten by Edward and the loons.
IMPRISONED AT HOME.
As a punishment for his various misdoings, he was told one morning that he was to be confined to the house all day. It was a terrible punishment, at least to him. Only a portion of his clothes was given him, that he might not go out; and as a further precaution, his mother tied him firmly to the table leg with a thick wisp of thrums. She also tied his wrists together with a piece of cord. When she went out on family affairs, Tom’s little sister was set to watch him. But he disengaged himself from his bonds almost as quickly as the Davenport brothers. With a mixture of promises and threats, he made his little sister come to his help; and the two together pushed the table close to the grate, when putting the rope which confined his legs between the ribs, it soon burnt asunder, and he was free. He next tried to find his clothes, but his mother had hidden them too securely. He found a coat of his elder brother’s,much too big for himself: nevertheless he put it on.
SETS HOUSE ON FIRE.
His mother’s feet were now heard on the stair. Tom hid himself at the back of the door, so that he might rush out as soon as she entered. The door was opened, his mother rushed in screaming, and Tom ran away. The table to which the rope had been attached was on fire, and the house would soon have been in a blaze. In quenching the flames of the rope attached to the boy’s leg, he had forgotten, in his hurry, to quench the burning of the rope still attached to the table. Hence the fire. But Tom was now at liberty. He soon got rid of his shackles, and spent a glorious day out of doors. He had a warm homecoming at night, but the less said of that the better.
AGAIN ESCAPES.
In fact, the boy was found to be thoroughly incorrigible. He was self-willed, determined, and stubborn. As he could not be kept at home, and would not go a message, but was always running after his “beasts,” his father at last determined to take his clothes from him altogether. So, one morning when he went to work, he carried them with him. When the boy got up, and found that he had nothing to wear, he was in a state of great dismay. His mother, having pinned a bit of an old petticoat round his neck, said to him, “I am sure you’ll be a prisoner this day.” But no! His mother went downstairs for milk, leaving him in the house. He had tied a string round his middle, to render himself a littlemore fit for moving about. He followed his mother downstairs, and hid himself at the back of the entry door; and as soon as she had passed in, Tom bolted out, ran down the street, and immediately was at his old employment of hunting for crabs, horse-leeches, puddocks, and sticklebacks.
His father, on coming home at night with Tom’s clothes in his hand, looked round the room, and asked, “Is he in bed?” “Na!” “Far[5]is he?” “Weel, I left him here when I gaed to the door for milk, and when I came back he was awa; but whether he gaed out o’ the window or up the lum[6]I canna tell.” “Did ye gie him ony claes?” “No!” “Most extraordinary!” exclaimed the father, sitting down in his chair. He was perfectly thunderstruck. His supper was waiting for him, but he could not partake of it. A neighbouring woman shortly after entered, saying, “Meggy, he’s come!” “Oh, the nickem,”[7]said Tom’s mother, “surely he’s dead wi’ cauld by this time. Fatcanwe do wi’ him? Oh, Mrs. Kelman, he’ll break my very heart. Think o’ him being oot for haill days without ony meat. Often he’s oot afore he gets his breakfast, and we winna see him again till night. Only think that he’s been out a’ the day ’maist naked! We canna get him keepit in frae thae beasts o’ his!”
RECEPTION ON RETURN.
“He’ll soon get tired o’ that,” said Mrs. Kelman, “if ye dinna lick him.” “Never,” roared old Edward; “I’ll chain him in the house, and see if that will cool him.” “But,” rejoined Mrs. Kelman, “ye maunna touch him the night, John.” “I’ll chain him to the grate! But where is he? Bring him here.” “He’s at my fireside.” By this time Tom, having followed at her heels, and heard most of what was said about him, was ready to enter as she came out. “Far hae ye been, you scamp?” asked his mother. “At the Tide!” His father on looking up, and seeing the boy with the old petticoat about him, bedabbled by the mud in which he had been playing, burst into a fit of laughter. He leant back on his chair, and laughed till he could laugh no more.
“Oh, laddie,” said the mother, “ye needna look at me in that way. It’s you that he’s laughin’ at, you’re sic a comical sicht. Ye’ll gang to that stinkin’ place, man, till ye droun yoursel, and sine ye winnacome back again.” Tom was then taken in hand, cleaned and scrubbed, and put to bed. Next morning his father, before he went out, appeared at the boy’s bedside, and said, “If ye go out this day, sir, I’ll have you chained.” “But,” replied Tom, “ye hinna a cooch;”[8]for he had no notion of anything being chained but dogs. “Never mind,” said his father, “I’ll chain you!”
IS LAID UP BY FEVER.
The boy had no inclination to rise that day. He was hot and cold alternately. When he got up in the afternoon, he was in a “gruize.”[9]Then he went to bed again. By the evening he was in a hot fever. Next day he was worse. He raved, and became delirious. He rambled about his beasts and his birds. Then he ceased to speak. His mouth became clammy and his tongue black. He hung between life and death for several weeks. At length the fever spent itself, leaving him utterly helpless.
One afternoon, as he was gradually getting better, he observed his mother sitting by his bedside. “Mother,” said he, “where are my crabs and bandies that I brocht hame last nicht?” “Crabs and bandies!” said she, “ye’re surely gaun gyte;[10]it’s three months sin ye were oot!” This passed the boy’s comprehension. His next question was, “Has my father gotten the chains yet?” “Na, laddie, nor winna; but yemaunna gang back to yer auld places for beasts again.” “But where’s a’ my things, mother?” “They’re awa! The twa bottoms o’ broken bottles we found in the entry, the day you fell ill, were both thrown out.” “And the shrew mouse ye had in the boxie?” “Calton (the cat) took it.” This set the boy a-crying, and in that state he fell asleep, and did not waken till late next morning,—when he felt considerably better. He still, however, continued to make inquiries after his beasts.
His father, being in-doors, and seeing the boy rising and leaning upon his elbow, said to him, “Come awa, laddie. It’s long since ye were oot. The whins, and birds, and water-dogs[11]at Daiddie Brown’s burnie, will be a’ langin to see ye again.” The boy looked at his mother, and smiled, but said nothing. In a few days he was able to rise, but the spring was well advanced before he was able to go out of doors.
HIS RECOVERY.
He then improved rapidly. He was able to go farther and farther every day. At first he wandered along the beach. Then he roamed about over the country. He got to know the best nesting places—the woods, plantations, and hedges,—the streams, burns, locks, and mill-dams,—all round Aberdeen. When the other boys missed a nest, it was always “that loon Edward” that took it. For this he was thrashed, though he was only about four years old.
THE RUBISLAW QUARRIES.
One of his favourite spots was the Den[12]and quarriesof Rubislaw. There were five excellent places in the Den for birds’ nests and wild flowers. But he went to the quarries chiefly to find the big bits of sheep’s silver or mica in the face of the rocks. Edward was much astonished at the size of the rocks. He knew how birds made their nests; he knew how flowers and whins grew out of the ground; but he did not know how rocks grew. He asked his parents for the reason. They told him that these rocks had existed from the beginning. This did not satisfy him, and he determined to ask one of the men at the quarry, who certainly ought to know how the rocks grew. “How do the rocks grow?” asked he of a quarryman one day. “Fat say ye?” Tom repeated the question. “To the deil wi’ ye, ye impudent brat, or I’ll toss ye owre the head o’ the quarry!” Tom took to his heels and fled, never looking back.
Another favourite haunt was Daiddie Brown’s burnie. There were plantations and hedges near it, and fields close at hand on either side. Its banks were thickly clothed with wild raspberries and whins—the habitats of numerous birds. The burn itself had plenty of water-dogs, or water-rats, along its banks. That neighbourhood has now been entirely overbuilt. The trees, the hedges, the whins, and even the burn itself, have all been swept away.
LOVE OF BIRDNESTING.
Tom’s knowingness about birds’ nests attracted many of his boy-fellows to accompany him in his expeditions. He used to go wandering on, forgetfulof time, until it became very late. On such occasions, the parents of the boys became very anxious about them; and knowing that Tam Edward was the cause of their being kept so long away from home, they forbade them accompanying him again on any account. When he asked them to go with him a-birdnesting, their answer usually was, “Wha wad gang wi’ you? ye never come hame!” Even when Tom did get any boys to follow him, he usually returned alone.
“A BYKE” IN THE WOOD.
On one occasion he got some boys to accompany him to a wood at Polmuir, about two miles from town, on a birdnesting expedition. While they were going through the wood, a little separated, one of them called out, “A byke, a byke,[13]stickin’ on a tree, and made o’ paper!” A byke was regarded as a glorious capture, not only for the sake of the honey, but because of the fun the boys had in skelpin’ out the bees. Before they had quite reached the spot, one of the youngest boys yelled out, “Oh! I’m stung, I’m stung!” He took to his feet, and they all followed. After they had run some distance, and there being no appearance of a foe, a halt was made, and they stood still to consider the state of affairs. But all that could be ascertained was, that the byke was on a tree, that it was made of paper, and that it had lots of yellow bees about it.
This so excited Tom’s curiosity that he at onceproposed to go back and take down the paper byke. His proposal was met with a decided refusal; and on his insisting upon going back, all the other boys ran away home. Nothing daunted, however, he went back to that part of the wood where the byke had been seen. He found it, and was taking it from the under side of the branch to which it was attached, when a bee lit upon one of his fingers, and stung it severely. The pain was greater than from any sting that he had ever had before. He drew back, and sucked and blew the wound alternately, in order to relieve the pain.
SECURES THE BYKE.
Then he thought, “What can I do next?” There the byke hung before him. It was still in his power to remove it,—if he could. To leave it was impossible. Although he had nothing to defend himself from the attacks of the bees, nor anything to put the byke into when he had taken it down, still he would not go without it. His bonnet could scarcely do. It was too little and too holey. His stockings would not do; because he wished to take the byke home whole. A thought struck him. There was his shirt! That would do. So he took off his jacket, and disrobed himself of his shirt. Approaching the tree very gently, though getting numerous stings by the way, he contrived to remove the byke from the branch to which it was hanging, and tucked it into his shirt. He tied the whole up into a sort of round knot, so as to keep all in that was in.
It was now getting quite dark, and he hurried away with his prize. He got home in safety. He crept up the stair, and peeped in at the keyhole, to see that the coast was clear. But no! he saw his father sitting in his chair. There was an old iron pot in a recess on one side of the stair, in which Tom used to keep his numerous “things,” and there he deposited his prize until he could unpack it in the morning. He now entered the house as if nothing had happened. “Late as usual, Tam,” said his father. No further notice was taken. Tom got his supper shortly after, and went to bed.
Before getting into bed, he went a little out of way to get undressed, and then, as much unseen as possible, he crept down beneath the blankets. His brother, having caught sight of his nudity, suddenly called out, “Eh, mother, mother, look at Tam! he hasna gotten on his sark!” Straightway his mother appeared at the bedside, and found that the statement was correct. Then the father made his appearance. “Where’s your shirt, sir?” “I dinna ken.” “What! dinna ken!” addressing his wife—“Where’s my strap?” Tom knew the power of the strap, and found that there was no hope of escaping it.
The strap was brought! “Now, sir, tell me this instant, where is your shirt?” “It’s in the bole on the stair.” “Go and get it, and bring it here immediately.” Tom went and brought it, sorrowfully enough, for he dreaded the issue. “And what haveyou got in it?” “A yellow bumbees’ byke.” “A what?” exclaimed his father and mother in a breath. “A yellow bumbees’ byke.” “Did I not tell you, sir,” said his father, “only the other day, and made you promise me, not to bring any more of these things into the house, endangering and molesting us as well as the whole of our neighbours. Besides only think of your stripping yourself in a wood, to get off your shirt to hold a bees’ byke!”
“But this is a new ane,” said Tom, “it’s made o’ paper.” “Made o’ fiddlesticks!” “Na, I’ll let ye see it.” “Let it alone, I don’t want to see it. Go to bed at once, sir, or I shall give you something (shaking his strap) that will do you more good than bees’ bykes!”
THE WASP’S NEST.
Before the old couple went to bed, they put Tom’s shirt into a big bowl, poured a quantity of boiling water over it, and after it was cold, they opened the shirt, and found—a Wasps’ Nest!
Edwardwas between four and five years old when he went to school. He was sent there principally that he might be kept out of harm’s way. He did not go willingly; for he was of a roving, wandering disposition, and did not like to be shut up anywhere. He hated going to school. He was confined there about four hours a day. It might seem very little to some, but it was too much for him. He wanted to be free to roam about the Inches, up the Denburn, and along the path to Rubislaw, bird-nesting.
The first school to which he was sent was a dame’s school. It was kept by an old woman called Bell Hill. It was for the most part a girls’ school, but Bell consented to take the boy because she knew his mother, and wished to oblige her. The schoolroom was situated at the top of a long stair. In fact, it was the garret of an ordinary dwelling-house.
We have said that Tom did not like school. He could not be reconciled to spend his time there. Thus he often played the truant. He was sometimes arrested on his way to school by the fish-market. It was then held in the Shiprow, where the post-officenow stands. There were long rows of benches on which the fish were spread out. The benches were covered in, and afforded an excellent shelter on a rainy day.
THE FISH-MARKET.
Tom was well known to the fishwives. “Here comes the queer laddie,” they would say as they saw him approaching. And when he came up, they would ask him, “Weel, man, fat are ye gaun to speer[14]the day?” Tom’s inquiries were usually about fish—where they came from, what their names were, what was the difference between the different fishes, and so on. The fish-market was also a grand place for big blue flies, great beetles with red and yellow backs (burying beetles), and daylight rottens. They were the tamest rats he had ever seen, excepting two that he used to carry about in his pockets. His rats knew him as well as a dog knows his master.
But Tom’s playing the truant and lingering about the fish-market soon became known to his mother; and then she sent forhermother, Tom’s grannie, to take him to school. She was either to see him “in at the door,” or accompany him into the school itself. But Tom did not like the supervision of his grannie. He rebelled against it. He played the truant under her very eyes. When grannie put him in at the door, calling out “Bell!” to the schoolmistress upstairs, Tom would wait until he thought the old woman was sufficiently distant, and then stealout, and run away, by cross streets, to the Denburn or the Inches.
But that kind of truant-playing also got to be known; and then grannie had to drag him to school. When she seized him by the “scruff o’ the neck,” she had him quite tight. It was of no use attempting to lie down or sit down. Her hand was like a vice, and she kept him straight upon his feet. He tried to wriggle, twist, turn himself round as on a pivot, and then make a bolt. She nevertheless held on, and dragged him to school, into the presence of Bell Hill, and said, “Here’s your truant!” Tom’s only chance was to go along very quietly, making no attempt to escape grannie’s clutches, and then, watching for an opportunity, he would make a sudden dart and slip through her fingers. He ran, and she ran; but in running, Tom far outstripped her, for though grannie’s legs were very much longer than his, they were also very much stiffer.
ATTRACTIONS OF THE DENBURN.
The boy was sent one morning to buy three rolls for breakfast; but after he had bought the rolls, instead of going home, he forgathered with three loons, and accompanied them to the Denburn. He got a lot of horse-leeches, and was in the act of getting another when, looking in the water, he saw the reflection of grannie approaching. When he felt her fingers touching his neck, he let go the stone under which the horse-leech was, and made a sudden bound to the other side of the burn. He heard a heavysplash in the water. His comrades called out, “Tam, Tam, yer grannie’s droonin’!” But Tam neither stopped nor looked back. He flew as fast as he could to the Inches, where he stopped to take breath. The tide coming in, drove him away, and then he took refuge on the logs, near the Middens; after which he slunk home in the evening.
His mother received him thus: “Ye’re here again, ye ne’er-do-well! creepin in like a thief. Ye’ve been wi’ yer raggamuffins: yer weet duds tell that. That’s wi’ yer Inches, an’ tearin an’ ridin on the logs, an’ yer whin bushes. But ye may think muckle black shame o’ yersel, man, for gaun and droonin yer peer auld grannie.” “I didna droon her,” said Tom. “But she may hae been drooned for you; ye didna stay to tak her oot.” “She fell in hersell.” “Haud yer tongue, or I’ll take the poker t’ye. Think shame, man, to send her hame in sic a filthy state. But where’s the bread I sent ye for?” “It’s a’ eaten.” “We wad hae had a late breakfast if we had waited till now, and sine ye’ve no gottin it after a’. But yell see what yer faither ’ill say to ye when he gets hame.”
TOM AND HIS GRANNIE.
Tom was in bed by that time. He remained awake until his father returned in the evening. He was told the whole story by his wife, in its most dreadful details. When he heard of grannie’s plash into the burn, and coming home covered with “glaur,” he burst out into a long and hearty laugh. Tom heardit with joy. The father then remarked that grannie should “beware of going so near the edge of such a dirty place.” Then Tom felt himself reprieved, and shortly after fell asleep.
BELL HILL AND THE BEASTS.
The scapegrace returned to school. He did not learn a great deal. He had been taught by his mother his A B C, and to read words of three letters. He did not learn much more at Bell Hill’s school. Bell’s qualifications as a teacher were not great. Nevertheless, the education that she gave was a religious education. She prayed, or as Edward called it, “groaned” with the children twice a day. And it was during one of her devotional exercises that the circumstance occurred which compelled Bell Hill to expel Tom Edward from her school.
Edward had been accustomed to bring many of his “beasts” with him to school. The scholars were delighted with his butterflies; but few of them cared to be bitten or stung by his other animals. And to have horse-leeches crawling about them was unendurable. Thus Edward became a source of dread and annoyance to the whole school. He was declared to be a “perfect mischief.” When Bell Hill was informed of the beasts he brought with him, she used to say to the boy, “Now, do not bring any more of these nasty and dangerous things here again.” Perhaps he promised, but generally he forgot.
THE “KAE” AT SCHOOL.
At last he brought with him an animal of a much larger sort than usual. It was a Kae, or jackdaw.He used to keep it at home, but it made such a noise that he was sent out with it one morning, with strict injunctions not to bring it back again. He must let it go, or give it to somebody else. But he was fond of his kae, and his kae was fond of him. It would follow him about like a dog. He could not part with the kae. So he took it to school with him. But how could he hide it? Little boys’ trousers were in those days buttoned over their vest; and as Tom’s trousers were pretty wide, he thought he could get the kae in there. He got it safely into his breeks before he entered the school.
So far so good. But when the schoolmistress gave the word “Pray,” all the little boys and girls knelt down, turning their backs to Bell. At this movement the Kae became fractious. He could not accommodate himself to the altered position. But seeing a little light overhead, he made for it. He projected his beak through the opening between the trousers and the vest. He pushed his way upwards; Tom squeezed him downwards to where he was before. But this only made the Kae furious. He struggled, forced his way upwards, got his bill through the opening, and then his head.
The Kae immediately began tocre-waw! cre-waw!“The Lord preserv’s a’! Fat’s this noo?” cried Bell, starting to her feet. “It’s Tam Edward again!” shouted the scholars, “wi’ a craw stickin’ oot o’ his breeks!” Bell went up to him, pulled him up by hiscollar, dragged him to the door, thrust him out, and locked the door after him. Edward never saw Bell Hill again.
GOES TO ANOTHER SCHOOL.
The next school to which he was sent was at the Denburn side, near by the venerable Bow brig, the oldest bridge in Aberdeen,[15]but now swept away to make room for modern improvements. This school consisted wholly of boys. The master was well stricken in years. He was one of the old school, who had great faith in “the taws,”[16]as an instrument of instruction. Edward would have learnt much more at this school than at Bell Hill’s, had he not been so near his favourite haunt, the Denburn. He was making rapid progress with his reading, and was going on well with his arithmetic, when his usual misfortune occurred.
HORSE-LEECHES AT SCHOOL.
One day he had gone to school earlier than usual.The door was not open; and to wile away his time he went down to the Denburn. He found plenty of horse-leeches, and a number of the grubs of water-flies. He had put them into the bottom of a broken bottle, when one of the scholars came running up, crying, “Tam, Tam, the school’s in!” Knowing the penalty of being behind time, Tom flew after the boy, without thinking of the bottle he had in his hand. He contrived, however, to get it into the school, and deposited it in a corner beside him, without being observed.
All passed on smoothly for about half-an-hour, when one of the scholars gave a loud scream, and started from his seat. The master’s attention was instantly attracted, and he came down from the desk, taws in hand. “What’s this?” he cried. “It’s a horse-leech crawlin’ up my leg!” “A horse-leech?” “Yes, sir, and see,” pointing to the corner in which Tom kept his treasure, “there’s a bottle fu’ o’ them!” “Give me the bottle!” said the master; and, looking at the culprit, he said, “You come this way, Master Edward!” Edward followed him quaking. On reaching the desk, he stopped, and holding out the bottle, said, “That’s yours, is it not?” “Yes.” “Take it then, that is the way out,” pointing to the door; “go as fast as you can, and never come back; and take that too,” bringing the taws down heavily upon his back. Tom thought that his back was broken, and that he would never get his breath again.
A few days after, Tom was preparing to goout, after breakfast, when his mother asked him, “Where are ye gaun the day, laddie?” “Till my school,” said he. “To your school, are ye? where is’t? at the Inches, or the Middens, or Daiddie Brown’s burnie? where is’t?” “At the fit o’ the Green.” “At the fit o’ the Green! But hoo lang is it since ye was putten awa frae that school?” Tom was silent. He saw that his mother had been informed of his expulsion.
EXPELLED FROM SECOND SCHOOL.
In a little while she was ready to go out. She took hold of her son by the cuff of the neck, and took him down to the Green. When she reached the school, for the purpose of imploring the master to take her son back, she knocked at the door, and the master at once appeared. Before she could open her mouth, the master abruptly began, “Don’t bring that boy here! I’ll not take him back—not though you were to give me twenty pounds! Neither I, nor my scholars, have had a day’s peace since he came here.” And with that he shut the door in her face, before she could utter a single word. She turned and came away, very much vexed. She kept her grip on the boy, but, standing still to speak to a neighbour, and her hold getting a little slacker, he made a sudden bolt, and escaped.
As usual, he crept in late in the evening. His father was at home, reading. On entering, Tom observed that he stopped, fixing his eyes upon him over the top of his book, and looked at him steadilyfor some time. Then, laying down his book, he said, “And where have you been, sir?” The boy said nothing. “It’s no wonder that you’re dumb. You’ve been putten out of your school a second time. You’ll be a disgrace to all connected wi’ you. You’ll become an idler, a ne’er-do-well. You’ll get into bad company. You’ll become a thief! Then you’ll get into gaol, and end your days in misery and shame. Such is the case with all that neglect their schooling, and disregard what their parents bid them.”
Tom was at last ashamed of himself. He said nothing until supper-time; and then he asked for his supper, as he was hungry. “Perhaps you are,” said his father; “and you shall get no supper this night, nor any other night, until you learn to behave yourself better. Go to bed, sir, this moment!” Tom slunk away, and got to bed as soon as possible. When the lights were out, and all were thought to be abed, a light hand removed the clothes from over Tom’s head, and put something into his hand. He found it to be “a big dad o’ bread and butter.” It was so like the kind motherly heart and hand to do this. So Tom had his supper after all.
SENT TO HIS THIRD SCHOOL.
He was next sent to the Lancaster School in Harriet Street. There were two masters in this school. The upper classes were in the highest storey, the other classes in the lowest. The master of the lower class, to which Tom belonged, knowing his weakness, ordered him, on entering, not to bring anyof his beasts to that school. He was to pay more attention to his lessons than he had yet done, or he would be punished severely. He did not bring anything but his school-books for a long time, but at last his usual temptation befell him. It happened in this way.
THE SPARROW’S NEST.
On his way to and from school, along School Hill, he observed a sparrow’s nest built in the corner part of a spout. He greatly envied the sparrow’s nest. But he could only feast his longing eyes at a distance. He tried to climb the spout once or twice, but it was too high, and bulged out at the top. The clamps which held the spout to the wall were higher at the top than at the bottom. He had almost given up the adventure in despair, when one day, on going to school, he observed two men standing together and looking up in the direction of the nest. Boy-like, and probably thinking that he was a party concerned in the affair, he joined them, and listened to what they were talking about. He found that the nest interfered with the flow of water along the spout, and that it must be removed; and that the whole waterway along the spout must also be cleaned out.
Tom was now on the alert, and watched the spout closely. That day passed, and nothing was done. The next day passed, and still the men had not made their appearance. But on the third day, on his way to school, he observed a man and a boy placing a long ladder against the house. Tom stopped, andguessing what was about to be done, he intended to ask the man for the nest and its contents. The man was about to ascend the ladder, when, after feeling his pockets and finding that something had been forgotten, he sent the boy back to the shed for something or other,—most probably a trowel. Then, having struck a light, and set fire to his pipe, the man betook himself to the churchyard, which was near at hand.
THE NEST “HARRIED.”
A thought now struck Tom. Might he not take the nest himself without waiting for it, and perhaps without getting it after all? He looked about. He looked into the churchyard gate, nearly opposite. He saw nobody. The coast was clear. Tom darted across the street, and went rapidly up the ladder. Somebody shrieked to him from a window on the other side. It staggered him at first. But he climbed upward; got to the nest, and, after some wriggling and twisting, he pulled it away, and got down before either the man or the boy had returned.
YOUNG SPARROWS AT SCHOOL.
It was eggs that he wanted, but, lo and behold! here was a nest of five well-fledged birds. Instead of taking the birds home, Tom was foolish enough to take them with him to school. He contrived to get the nest into the school unobserved, and put it below the form on which he was seated, never thinking that the little things would get hungry, or try to make their escape. All went on well for about an hour. Then there was a slight commotion. A chirrup was heard. And presently the throats of all were opened—“Chirrup!chirrup!” Before the master could get the words “What’s that?” out of his mouth, the birds themselves answered him by leaving their nest and fluttering round the schoolroom,—the boys running after them! “Silence! Back to your seats!” cried the master. There was now stillness in the school, except the fluttering of the birds.
The culprit was called to the front. “This is more of your work, Edward, is it not?” “Yes, sir.” “And did I not tell you to bring no more of these things here.” “Yes, sir; but I only got them on my way up, or I wouldn’t have brought them here.” “I don’t believe it,” said the master. “Yes, it’s true, it’s true,” shouted some of the scholars. “Silence! How do you know?” “We saw him harryin’ the nest as we came up School Hill.” “How?” “He was on the top of a long ladder takin’ the nest oot o’ a spoot.” “Well, sir,” he said to Edward, “you are one of the most daring and determined little fellows that I have ever heard of. It seems you will follow nobody’s advice. If you do not give up your tricks, you will some day fall and break your neck. But as you have told me the truth, I will forgive you this once. But remember! it’s the last time. Now go, collect your birds, and take them away!”
Edward groped about to collect the birds, but few of them were left. The windows having been let down, they had all escaped except one. He got that one, and descended to the street. There he recoveredtwo other “gorbals.” He went home with his three birds; but, his sister being ill, his mother told him to take them away, because they made such a noise. In the course of the day he gave them to another boy, in exchange for a little picture-book, containing “The Death and Burial of Cock Robin.”
AT LANCASTER SCHOOL.
Next morning he went back to school, and from that time forward he continued to obey the master’s orders. He never brought any more “beasts” there. He was at the Lancaster school about eighteen months, though he was occasionally absent. He did not learn very much. The Bible was used as the reading book, and when he left school he could read it fairly. He could also repeat the Shorter Catechism. But he knew very little of arithmetic, and nothing of grammar. He had only got the length of the rule of two,—that is, he could add up two lines of figures. He could not manage the multiplication table. He could only multiply by means of his fingers. He knew nothing of writing.
We must mention the cause of his leaving his third and his last school. He had entirely given up bringing “beasts” with him. But he had got a bad name. It was well known that he had been turned out of all the schools which he had formerly attended, on account of bringing his “beasts” with him. Better kill a dog, it is said, than give him a bad name. In Edward’s case, his bad name was attended with very serious results.
A MAGGY MONNY FEET.
One morning, when the boys were at their lessons and the master was at his desk, a sudden commotion occurred. The master gave a loud scream, and, jumping to his feet, he shook something from his arm, and suddenly put his foot upon it. Then, turning in Edward’s direction, he exclaimed, “This is some more of your work, Master Edward.” Not hearing what he said, Edward made no reply. Another boy was called forward, and both stooping down, they took up something and laid it on a sheet of paper. On rising, the boy was asked what it was. “It’s a Maggy Monny Feet,” he said. “Is its bite dangerous? Is it poisonous?” The boy could not tell.
Edward was then called to the floor. “You’ve been at your old trade, Edward, I see; but I’ll now take it out of you. I have warned you not to bring any of your infernal beasts here, and now I have just found one creeping up my arm and biting me. Hold up.” Edward here ventured to say that he had not brought the beast, that he had not brought anything for a long while past. “What! a lie too?” said the master: “A lie added to the crime makes it doubly criminal. Hold up, sir!” Tom held up his hand, and the master came down upon it very heavily with the taws. “The other!” The other hand was then held up, and when Tom had got his two hot hands, the master exclaimed, “That’s for the lie, and this for the offence!” and then he proceeded to bring the taws heavily down upon his back. The boy, however, did not cry.
EDWARD UNJUSTLY PUNISHED.
“Now, sir,” said the master, when almost out of breath, “will you say now that you did not bring it?” “I did not; indeed, sir, I did not!” “Well then, take that,” giving him a number of tremendous lashes along his back. “Well now?” “I did not!” The master went on again: “It’s your own fault,” he said, “for not confessing your crime.” “But I did not bring it,” replied Edward. “I’ll flog you until you confess.” And then he repeated his lashes, upon his hands, his shoulders, and his back. Edward was a mere mite of a boy, so that the taws reached down to his legs, and smote him there. “Well now,” said the master, after he was reduced to his last effort, “did you bring it?” “No, sir, I did not!”
The master sat down exhausted. “Well,” said he, “you are certainly a most provoking and incorrigible devil.” The master had a reddish nose, and a number of pimples on his face, which were of the same hue. When he got into a rage, it was observed that the protuberances became much brighter. On this occasion his organ became ten times redder than before. It was like Bardolph’s lanthorn in the poop. Some of the boys likened his pimples to large driblets of blood.
EXPELLED FROM HIS THIRD SCHOOL.
After resting for a while in his chair, Edward standing before him, he called to the boy whom he had first brought to his assistance, “William, bring forward that thing!” The boy brought forward the paper, on which lay a bruised centipede. “Nowthen,” said the master, “did you not bring that venomous beast here?” “I did not, sir!” The whole school was now appealed to. “Did any of you see Edward with that beast, or any other beast, to-day or yesterday?” No answer. “Did any of you see Edward with anything last week or the week before?” Still no answer. Then, after a considerable pause, turning to Edward, he said, “Get your slate. Go home, and tell your father to get you put on board a man-of-war, as that is the best school for all irreclaimables such as you.” So saying, he pointed to the door. Tom got his slate and his books, and hurried down stairs. And thus Edward was expelled from his third and last school.
On reaching home, he told his parents the circumstances connected with his expulsion. He also added that he wouldn’t go to school any more; at all events, he wouldn’t go back to “yon school.” He would rather go to work. He was told that he was too young to work; for he was scarcely six years old. His father proposed to take him to the Lancaster school on the following day, for the purpose of inducing the master to take back the boy.