CHAPTER THREE.
I AM SENT TO A CHARITY SCHOOL, WHERE THE BOYS DO NOT CONSIDER CHARITY ASA PART OF THEIR EDUCATION--THE PECULIARITIES OF THE MASTER, AND THEMAGICAL EFFECT OF A BLOW OF THE NOSE--A DISQUISITION UPON THE LETTER A,FROM WHICH I FIND ALL MY PREVIOUS LEARNING THROWN AWAY.
Before I quitted the room, Sarah and I were in deep converse at thewindow, and Mr and Mrs Drummond employed likewise at the table. Theresult of the conversation between Sarah and me was the intimacy ofchildren; that of Mr and Mrs Drummond, that the sooner I was disposedof, the more it would be for my own advantage. Having some interestwith the governors of a charity school near Brentford, Mr Drummond lostno time in procuring me admission; and before I had quite spoiled my newclothes, having worn them nearly three weeks, I was suited afresh in aformal attire--a long coat of pepper and salt, yellow leather breechestied at the knees, a worsted cap with a tuft on the top of it, stockingsand shoes to match, and a large pewter plate upon my breast, marked withNumber 63, which, as I was the last entered boy, indicated the sum totalof the school. It was with regret that I left the abode of theDrummonds, who did not think it advisable to wait for the completion ofthe barge, much to the annoyance of Miss Drummond, and before we arrivedmet them all out walking. I was put into the ranks, received a littlegood advice from my worthy patron, who then walked away one way, whilewe walked another, looking like a regiment of yellow-thighed field-faresstraightened in human perpendiculars. Behold, then, the last scion ofthe Faithfuls, peppered, salted, and plated, that all the world mightknow that he was a charity-boy, and that there was charity in thisworld. But if heroes, kings, great and grave men, must yield todestiny, lighter-boys cannot be expected to escape; and I was doomed toreceive an education, board, lodging, raiment, etcetera, free, gratis,and for nothing.
Every society has it chief; and I was about to observe that every circlehas it centre, which certainly would have been true enough, but thecomparison is of no use to me, as our circle had two centres, or, tofollow up the first idea, had two chiefs--the chief schoolmaster and thechief domestic--the chief masculine and the chief feminine--the chiefwith the ferula, and the chief with the brimstone and treacle--themaster and the matron, each of whom had their appendages--the one in theusher, the other in the assistant housemaid. But of this quartette, themaster was not only the most important, but the most worthy ofdescription; and as he will often appear in the pages of my narrative,long after my education was complete, I shall be very particular in mydescription of Dominie Dobiensis, as he delighted to be called, orDreary Dobs, as his dutiful scholars delighted to call him. As in ourschool it was necessary that we should be instructed in reading,writing, and ciphering, the governors had selected the Dominie as themost fitting person that had offered for the employment, because he had,in the first place, written a work that nobody could understand upon theGreek particles; secondly, he had proved himself a great mathematician,having, it is said, squared the circle by algebraical false quantities,but would never show the operation for fear of losing the honour bytreachery. He had also discovered as many errors in the demonstrationsof Euclid as ever did Joey Hume in army and navy estimates, and with asmuch benefit to the country at large. He was a man who breathedcertainly in the present age, but the half of his life was spent inantiquity or algebra. Once carried away by a problem, or a Greekreminiscence, he passed away, as it were, from his present existence,and everything was unheeded. His body remained, and breathed on hisdesk, but his soul was absent. This peculiarity was well known to theboys, who used to say, "Dominie is in his dreams, and talks in hissleep."
Dominie Dobiensis left reading and writing to the usher, contrary to theregulations of the school, putting the boys, if possible, intomathematics, Latin, and Greek. The usher was not over competent toteach the two first; the boys not over willing to learn the latter. Themaster was too clever, the usher too ignorant; hence the scholarsprofited little. The Dominie was grave and irascible, but he possesseda fund of drollery and the kindest heart. His features could not laugh,but his trachea did. The chuckle rose no higher than the rings of thewind-pipe, and then it was vigorously thrust back again by the impulseof gravity into the region of his heart, and gladdened it with hiddenmirth in its dark centre. The Dominie loved a pun; whether it was letoff in English, Greek, or Latin. The last two were made by nobody buthimself, and not being understood, were, of course, relished by himselfalone. But his love of a pun was a serious attachment: he loved it witha solemn affection--with him it was no laughing matter.
In person Dominie Dobiensis was above six feet, all bone and sinews.His face was long and his lineaments large; but his predominant featurewas his nose, which, large as were the others, bore them down intoinsignificance. It was a prodigy--a ridicule; but he consoled himself--Ovid was called Naso. It was not an aquiline nose, nor was it anaquiline nose reversed. It was not a nose snubbed at the extremity,gross, heavy, or carbuncled, or fluting. In all its magnitude ofproportions, it was an intellectual nose. It was thin, horny,transparent, and sonorous. Its snuffle was consequential and its sneezeoracular. The very sight of it was impressive; its sound, when blown inschool hours, was ominous. But the scholars loved the nose for thewarning which it gave: like the rattle of the dreaded snake, whichannounces its presence, so did the nose indicate to the scholars thatthey were to be on their guard. The Dominie would attend to this worldand its duties for an hour or two, and then forget his scholars and hisschool-room, while he took a journey into the world of Greek or algebra.Then, when he marked _x_, _y_, and _z_, in his calculations, the boysknew that he was safe, and their studies were neglected.
Reader, did you ever witness the magic effects of a drum in a smallvillage, when the recruiting party, with many-coloured ribbons, rouse itup with a spirit-stirring tattoo? Matrons leave their domestic cares,and run to the cottage door: peeping over their shoulders, the maidensadmire and fear. The shuffling clowns raise up their heads gradually,until they stand erect and proud; the slouch in the back is taken out,their heavy walk is changed to a firm yet elastic tread, every muscleappears more braced, every nerve, by degrees, new strung; the bloodcirculates rapidly: pulses quicken, hearts throb, eyes brighten, and asthe martial sound pervades their rustic frames, the Cimons of the ploughare converted, as if by magic, into incipient heroes for the field;--andall this is produced by beating the skin of the most gentle, mostharmless animal of creation.
Not having at hand the simile synthetical, we have resorted to theantithetical. The blowing of the Dominie's nose produced the verycontrary effects. It was a signal that he had returned from hisintellectual journal, and was once more in his school-room--that themaster had finished with his _x_, _y_, _z_'s, and it was time forscholars to mind their _p_'s and _q_'s. At this note of warning, likethe minute-roll among the troops, every one fell into his place;half-munched apples were thrust into the first pocket--popgunsdisappeared--battles were left to be decided elsewhere--books wereopened, and eyes directed to them--forms that were fidgeting andtwisting in all directions, now took one regimental inclined positionover the desk--silence was restored, order resumed her reign, and MrKnapps, the usher, who always availed himself of these interregnums, aswell as the scholars, by deserting to the matron's room, warned by thewell-known sound, hastened to the desk of toil; such were theastonishing effects of a blow from Dominie Dobiensis' sonorous andpeace-restoring nose.
"Jacob Faithful, draw near," were the first words which struck upon mytympanum the next morning, when I had taken my seat at the further endof the school-room. I rose and threaded my way through two lines ofboys, who put out their legs to trip me up in my passage through theirranks; and surmounting all difficulties, found myself within three feetof the master's high desk, or pulpit, from which he looked down upon melike the Olympian Jupiter upon mortals, in ancient time.
"Jacob Faithful, canst thou read?"
"No, I can't," replied I; "I wish I could."
"A well-disposed answer, Jacob; thy wishes shall be
gratified. Knowestthou thine alphabet?"
"I don't know what that is."
"Then thou knowest it not. Mr Knapps shall forthwith instruct thee.Thou shall forthwith go to Mr Knapps, who inculcateth the rudiments._Levior Puer_, lighter-boy, thou hast a _crafty_ look." And then Iheard a noise in his throat that resembled the "cluck, cluck" when mypoor mother poured the gin out of the great stone bottle.
"My little navilculator," continued he, "thou art a weed washed onshore, one of Father Thames' cast-up wrecks. `_Fluviorum rexEridanus_,' [Chuck, cluck.] To thy studies; be thyself--that is, beFaithful. Mr Knapps, let the Cadmean art proceed forthwith." Sosaying, Dominie Dobiensis thrust his large hand into his right coatpocket, in which he kept his snuff loose, and taking a large pinch (themajor part of which, the stock being low, was composed of hair andcotton abrasions which had collected in the corners of his pocket), hecalled up the first class, while Mr Knapps called me to my firstlesson.
Mr Knapps was a thin, hectic-looking young man, apparently nineteen ortwenty years of age, very small in all his proportions, red ferret eyes,and without the least sign of incipient manhood; but he was very savage,nevertheless. Not being permitted to pummel the boys when the Dominiewas in the school-room, he played the tyrant most effectually when hewas left commanding officer. The noise and hubbub certainly warrantedhis interference--the respect paid to him was positively _nil_. Hispractice was to select the most glaring delinquent, and let fly hisruler at him, with immediate orders to bring it back. These orders werecomplied with for more than one reason; in the first place, was theoffender hit, he was glad that another should have his turn; in thesecond, Mr Knapps being a very bad shot (never having drove aKamschatdale team of dogs), he generally missed the one he aimed at, andhit some other, who, if he did not exactly deserve it at that moment,certainly did for previous, or would for subsequent, delinquencies. Inthe latter case, the ruler was brought back to him because there was noinjury inflicted, although intended. However, be it as it may, theruler was always returned to him; and thus did Mr Knapps pelt the boysas if they were cocks on Shrove Tuesday, to the great risk of theirheads and limbs. I have little further to say of Mr Knapps, exceptthat he wore a black shalloon loose coat; on the left sleeve of which hewiped his pen, and upon the right, but too often, his ever-snivellingnose.
"What is that, boy?" said Mr Knapps, pointing to the letter A.
I looked attentively, and recognising, as I thought, one of my father'shieroglyphics, replied, "That's half-a-bushel;" and I was certainlywarranted in my supposition.
"Half-a-bushel! You're more than half a fool. That's the letter _A_."
"No; it's half-a-bushel; father told me so."
"Then your father was as big a fool as yourself."
"Father knew what half-a-bushel was, and so do I: that's half-a-bushel."
"I tell you it's the letter A," cried Mr Knapps, in a rage.
"It's half-a-bushel," replied I, doggedly. I persisted in my assertion:and Mr Knapps, who dared not punish me while the Dominie was present,descended his throne of one step, and led me up to the master.
"I can do nothing with this boy, sir," said he, red as fire; "he deniesthe first letter in the alphabet, and insists upon it that the letter Ais not A, but half-a-bushel."
"Dost thou, in thine ignorance, pretend to teach when thou comest hereto learn, Jacob Faithful?"
"Father always told me that that thing there meant half-a-bushel."
"Thy father might, perhaps, have used that letter to signify the measurewhich thou speakest of, in the same way as I, in my mathematics, usedivers letters for known and unknown quantities; but thou must forgetthat which thy father taught thee, and commence _de novo_. Dost thouunderstand?"
"No, I don't."
"Then, little Jacob, that represents the letter A, and whatever else MrKnapps may tell thee, thou wilt believe. Return, Jacob, and be docile."