Tom Browning's Schooldays

Tom Browning's Schooldays

By

Joel

Chapter Ten

We hurried off to the kitchen and saw Mr Jarvis stretched out on two chairs with Mrs Gray and my Mother sponging his head, but it looked as if he had received a nasty cut to his arm as well as his coat and shirt were bloodied. One of the under grooms was also there holding the basin of water. We took a quick look then ran off down the drive. Luckily Lancelot was at the Rectory and gathered up bandages and salves and gave a bag each to us as he picked up his doctor's leather case as well.

Another of the grooms, Charlie Waters, was at the kitchen door with a thick cudgel in his hand as we arrived back. "Pardon, Sir," he said to Lancelot, "But a couple of them varmints will need you, too. Jake got one with his shotgun and filled his arse with lead and I think I broke the arm of another." He lifted the cudgel proudly. "Rough buggers, they be, Sir!" He said my Father had taken his horse and ridden off to the main stable where the 'cussed varmints' were.

Lancelot smiled and went through. We followed. Mrs Gray said she had told the maids to go to their rooms as they had started crying when they saw the injured man. Lancelot was all efficiency. He called the groom over and between them they got Mr Jarvis's coat and shirt off. It looked as if he had been stabbed. The groom said quietly that one of the crooks had a short sword and had gone for Mr Jarvis who was obviously very groggy now from the effects of the blow to his head.

"Time for action," said Lancelot, "Mrs Gray, a pan of hot water and a handful of salt. It'll sting him but that sword probably killed a few Frenchmen so we don't want any of them in his wound." Mrs Gray was also efficient and the pan appeared immediately and my Mother found the salt pot and added the salt and stirred it in. "Now, Tom, swab that gash on his head with a cloth dipped in the pan." It must have stung a bit as Mr Jarvis shook his head as I wiped away the oozing blood. Robin held the pan for me while Lancelot inspected the stab wound at the top of Jarvis's arm. "Not too bad," he said, "May have cut a bit of muscle. Make a fist, man!" he instructed him and Jarvis obeyed without a problem. "Good, I don't think it's damaged any nerves." He looked at me. "Nerves are what control your movements. Did you know that?" I nodded. I had read about those in one of Lancelot's medical books. He dabbed into the wound with another cloth dipped in the salt water and Jarvis winced. "Not too deep. Need a good bandage. Robin, in that bag, please." Robin found a new strip of linen and Lancelot bound it round the top of the patient's arm quite tightly. A strip of ribbon held it in place and Robin got scissors from the box of instruments and cut it off as Lancelot tied the knot.

"Now his head," Lancelot said. He peered into Jarvis's eyes. "Now, Tom, take note. His pupils are the same size so no damage. Always look at eyes when you have a head hit. Can't do much if the pupils are different sizes. Make the patient comfortable and pray!" My Mother sniffed. Her nephew was known for his off-hand statements but we knew he was a good doctor. The blood had stopped and Lancelot decided to leave it open to the air. "Only a scratch there," he said, "You'll have a headache and your arm will ache. Come and see me on Wednesday at the Rectory. Eight in the morning. Rest today and see how you feel in the morning. If you feel sick send for me."

The groom came over and helped Mr Jarvis to sit comfortably while Mrs Gray gave him a beaker of hot sweet tea. Lancelot watched to see that he could hold it then said he'd better go to see the criminals. "Need a pony," he requested.

We decided to go with him and grabbed coats and hats and followed him to the Hall stable with Charlie Waters. Seeing real live criminals was something to relish. Luckily there were ponies and our mounts so all were saddled quickly and we were off. There in the big barn were three ugly-looking rascals. One was screaming oaths at everyone and holding his backside, a second was quiet and holding his shoulder which looked to be at a funny angle, the third was clutching at his cods and swearing he'd cut off the self-same articles of some bastard who had injured him. At least I think that was what he said as the words were rather more colourful and the accent was very broad.

My father was standing looking at the three. When he saw us boys enter he poked the third one with his riding crop. "Shut your filthy mouth, cur! You can swear at the hangman!"

With that the fellow dropped to his knees and started pleading for mercy. He said he was only a poor soldier who had been discharged and was looking for work. Another senior groom came in.

"Sir," he said as he came up to father, "We've found their horses. They're branded for Nelson's own." I knew what that meant. Those horses had been stolen. Each stud branded the horses which it did not wish to sell because of some injury or disfigurement, but could still be used for breeding or work.

The fellow started to cry out even louder that they had been given the horses. Father ignored him and walked to the one who had stopped screaming but was still holding his backside and whimpering. "Lancelot, I think this one first!" He beckoned to two of the other grooms who were also armed with cudgels. "Get his britches down and see if he makes a good pepperpot!"

I had seen the result of a misplaced firing when I had followed my Father's shooting party last autumn and some stupid young fellow had discharged his shotgun straight at his friend's upturned buttocks at a range of about ten yards. His britches were lowered and pieces of shot were removed to the accompaniment of much swearing.

While this one was manhandled and his britches forcibly undone I noticed one of the grooms nonchalantly swing his cudgel and given the third one another blow to his ballocks as he was still cursing. He started screaming more curses and received another hard knock. He fell silent as he realised profanity and blows went together. A clever fellow, I thought!

Lancelot gave one of the grooms a wicked-looking short knife and said he should pick out the shot while the others held the villain. He then turned to the second who had slumped to the floor. When his coat and shirt were removed - rather carefully - it was obvious that Charlie's blow had shattered his collar bone. Lancelot very deftly bandaged the arm so it was held against his chest but also gave the fellow a draught of poppy juice to ease the pain. Charlie was swinging his cudgel and I thought this one might get a ballocking as well, but he bent down and took a short dagger from the man's boot. "I saw him go for it afore when I 'it 'im," he said, "He'd a throwed that and some poor bugger would'a be dead now!"

My father bent down and undid the leather sheath inside the boot. "Good fellow you are, Charlie. You deserve a reward for saving someone's life."

From what I was hearing I realised these three had no defence. Being caught trying to steal horses, having stolen ones in their possession, attacking the guardians and bearing weapons, open and concealed, they were 'good and fucked' as I heard one groom murmur. It was then that Uncle Dodd rode up. He was our local Justice of the Peace. The story was told and as he nodded so Robin, who had been handed a notebook and pencil, wrote down what had happened. Uncle Dodd said the three were to be remanded in custody until he could formally charge them and he would do this on Tuesday and then they would be conveyed to Lincoln Castle Gaol. Three blubbering villains were roped and marched off the two miles to the village lock-up where, no doubt, a rather inebriated Constable Rogers would inflict more hardships on them as he would be interrupted in his drinking time!

Uncle Dodd came back with us to the Hall. On the way he said although these men were villains for what they had done, he had some sympathy as so many men had been discharged from the military because they were not needed and most had no pension and no skills. "What are they to do?" He said he subscribed to a charity for discharged servicemen but many were disgruntled and were led into a life of crime by others. Robin asked him whether they could be hanged or transported for horse-stealing or for wounding.

"Until just a few years ago they could have been hanged if convicted of horse- stealing," he said, "Now they might get a sentence of transportation. More likely be a hefty sentence in prison in this country. But the more serious offence in my opinion is they attacked and wounded and could have killed. You saw Jarvis had been stabbed and there was a knife in that fellow's boot. I think we'll have to remand them for Quarter Sessions at Lincoln and see what the judge there has to say. I shall have to get full depositions and signed statements from witnesses so I will be busy and not writing my sermon for Sunday!"

We rode on a bit and we fell silent as we realised Uncle Dodd was mulling over what had happened.

"I have been thinking about the brand on the horses. Can you remember the name?"

"The groom said it was for the 'Nelson' stud," I said, "My Father thought that was up Nottingham way."

"I must ask your father if he knows exactly where, then I can contact the constables there to make more enquiries for evidence for any trial. Robin, you have the notebook. When we reach the Hall I want you to dictate what you wrote so I have a fair copy at hand and I will know who to call and question."

My mother was waiting for us. She still had Mr Jarvis in the kitchen, resting, and had sent Jackson to his wife to warn her. Robin and I followed Uncle Dodd through to my father's study where he wrote down the account as Robin read it through.

"Good lad," he said as he set down his pen, "Very clear. You put down exactly what everyone said?" Robin said he had. "D'you want to become a lawyer?" Uncle Dodd asked him.

"I don't think so," said Robin, "I'm not very good at telling lies, even for money."

Uncle Dodd burst out laughing. "That's the best description I've heard for a long time! Don't say it too loudly though, his brother-in-law is a lawyer and he's Scottish as well."

I said I doubted if Ranald Foster told too many lies even if he was a lawyer and Scottish as well. This set Uncle Dodd off laughing again as he said I must be careful of my wording. To get out of my fix I said even my father, who abhorred that profession generally, had warmed to Ranald and his cheerful ways. My sister would not have chosen him otherwise.

"Too true, your sister Peg is a merry creature. I miss her and her quips."

Yes, she and Uncle Dodd were always laughing together and I was sorry when she left to live in Edinburgh with Ranald. She had travelled down on the new railway during the summer and there was much discussion between her and my Mother about when the baby was due. Little Angus, her son, had followed me around and had sat on our Shetland pony and Robin and I had made him a hobby horse of some laths and ribbons. Robin's brothers had taken him off to hunt tigers in the spinney. The tigers were the warren of rabbits which Rowley had taught us to catch with the snares for the pot. Of course, with another baby I would be an uncle again!

Father had calmed down when we assembled for our evening meal. All the family were there including Rass who said he would eat little as he was fasting before the Village Feast as he was sure he would eat too much there. As he was already thin and his clothes hung on him he certainly didn't need to worry. Uncle Dodd looked at his son and I knew he was going to say something which would sound serious but would have an edge to it.

"Erasmus my boy," he said, holding up his soup spoon as if he was going to point at something on a blackboard in school, "Take heed of the great Bard, remember dear Hamlet 'fell into a sadness, then into a fast'..." He said no more but we knew the lines which came later 'into the madness, wherein now he raves...'.

Rass did have a sense of humour, even though slight. "I am not sad, and neither am I mad. I may have my own small weaknesses but I am not bad, 'tis so, Dad!" He grinned then and the rest of us laughed, politely. "And I have decided I cannot make sense of all that jumbled mess I have been labouring over for so long so I am putting it aside..." There was a murmur from Uncle Dodd of 'Praise be!'. "...I am not quite decided but I might read all this new thinking about how life on this earth has changed over many years."

Uncle Dodd's eyes opened wide. I opened my mouth and while the soup was ladled out and eaten and the entree of good cold pork was served and devoured I expounded, between mouthfuls, on what I had heard in Mr Ridley's classes. I told about coal and about fossils and how people wondered about changing animals by breeding - this made Aunt Matty sniff - and how people wondered why Chinamen were yellow and Africans were black and whether there were other worlds. I think my eloquence rather astounded my parents as I was usually so quiet at table. I had learned a lot that way by careful listening but I was now more ready to say things and my tongue was running at a fast gallop tonight. Uncle Dodd was sitting opposite me and winked as I got to the end of my oration.

Rass looked at me still holding his own soup spoon having taken about three mouthfuls in all that time. "Young Tom, I think we should study together." That did shut me up! I wanted to know more but I wanted to be a physician like Lancelot. Uncle Dodd came to my rescue.

"Erasmus, perhaps you could lend Tom any books or pamphlets you receive and let him read them first. I noted you had that thick book by Lyell on geology. That's too much, something slimmer perhaps."

"I have his Elements of Geology as well. Much slimmer, like me. I will bring it next time I am invited to such a good supper as tonight."

I must get Mother to cross him off our visiting list. No, too cruel. But, geology! On the other hand I might learn something to make Megson sit up and complain.

We moved onto other things. At least Mother and Aunt Matty did. The Village Feast. All had to be organised down to the smallest detail. Who could be trusted to do this, or do that, how many chairs, tables, pots, pans....? The list seemed to be endless and I suddenly remembered I hadn't asked Lancelot to examine young Eamonn and I hadn't given Benjy anything for his bruises. At last the dessert was finished the ladies withdrew and the four men took up pipes and the usual smoky fug arose. I was allowed a small glass of port and began to feel grown up, but wondered if I would ever smoke, having tried a pipe under Jabez's instruction when I was about nine or so and thought I would never stop coughing. George had said he had had the same experience when his brother Geoffrey had given him a cigar to try and he had been sick as well. Theo said his Father disapproved of smoking and said he could have fifty guineas when he was eighteen if he vowed not to smoke. The talk was all about the miscreants and I'd heard it all before so when Lancelot got up to light a spill for his pipe I told him quietly about young Eamonn. He nodded and said I was to bring him to the Rectory in the morning at nine and he would examine him and to tell him to make sure he had moved his bowels before.

I made my excuses and left the room and as I did so Jackson asked in a loud voice would I be requiring a warming pan as it was a cold night. I gave him as much of a sneer as I could and said a warming pan was always comforting perhaps he could arrange it. As he closed the door behind me he whispered that the said article was already there.

That left Benjy. I asked him to send Benjy up with some hot water. "Paint is difficult to remove," Jackson said and sniggered, "I expect young Mr Jefferson found it so when that small blue and yellow object had to be cleaned. I was ready to recommend some oil of turpentine but he slammed the door."

We both sniggered as I said trying to wash it would just mix the colours and a mixture of blue and yellow would make green and rotten sausages went green. Still laughing he gave me a candlestick and I went upstairs.

Robin was sitting by my fire reading and making notes. He smiled and my heart warmed. "Have you eaten?" I asked.

"Plenty," he said, "Your mother said I should stay as the snow is falling again. I don't think there will be much but I wanted to read and young Philip would be asking me all sorts of questions. He is a most inquisitive boy."

"You mustn't neglect him," I said, "I learned a lot asking Terence things but I knew he tired of me sometimes."

"Don't chide me, Tom, I love my brothers but I wanted to be with you. I can't help it but I have missed you so much. I saw you most days at Ashbourne but it seemed a barrier was there which kept us apart."

I went over to him and knelt by the chair. I put my arm round him. "I missed you, too. We did spend time together but it wasn't our private time. We'll make up for that until I go to London for New Year and then we will be together until school begins."

He nodded. "Yes, I hope we will be in the same form and I shall be just two rooms away and we will make time together."

"But you must spend time with your family especially your brothers. They need you, too."

I stood up and bent down and kissed his cheek just as there was a knock on the door. It was Benjy with a steaming pitcher. I said he should put it by the fire as I wanted to deal with his bruises. My chest had not arrived back but I did have a small phial of arnica which Lancelot had given me when I had bruised my knee and elbow at Easter slipping on some wet cobbles and falling heavily.

Robin helped Benjy take off his livery coat and pulled up his shirt to show his back. Most of the redness had gone but there were two patches where I rubbed a little of the liquid. Benjy sighed and said it was cool and comforting. He lowered his britches and bared his backside. There were three bluish weals where Algernon had beaten him. His buttocks twitched as I anointed those nasty looking marks.

"Now, Benjy," I said, "Take care of who invites you into their room."

He smiled. "You and Robin can invite me any time."

Robin laughed. "And if you were a virtuous young maiden think of what we might do!"

Benjy gave him a withering look. "With what?"

Robin grabbed him and smacked his bare arse. "I might be tempted to show you but you would only cry out for more."

The pair were laughing as letting Benjy go his britches and undergarments were at his knees and his thick stem was quite upright. "Match that, little boy!" said Benjy bending back to show himself to best advantage.

Robin wrinkled his nose. "I've seen better spigots on Mr Flaxman's beer barrels and the only likeness is your belly and their roundness."

True, at least the second observation, as our Benjy was getting a little tubby round the middle. I knew he liked his food and Mrs Gray kept the servants well-supplied on my mother's orders. "Benjy, you mustn't eat so much," I said, "If you get any fatter you won't be able to see that. There's a boy at school who is so fat he has to use a long hat pin to find his." That was what was said about Macauley in the Remove, 'fat belly and short dick'. I had seen him pissing but hadn't gauged his size.

Benjy's face fell. "I shall be like that Fat Boy in Mr Dickens. I would not like that. What shall I do?" My Mother said she had laughed out loud and waited impatiently for each instalment to come out of Pickwick Papers. These must have been passed on to the Servants' Hall or my copy of the book had been borrowed.

Robin laughed. "Eat half of what you usually take. You certainly would not starve even then."

I then told him my cousin Lancelot would examine Eamonn in the morning and I was to take him to the Rectory and he'd better come, too, as the lad might be frightened. I also said the boy must visit the privy first and have him ready by half-past eight. Robin said he would stay as he had been home to see his father with the message to come about the building to be done and he wanted to hear his father's opinions. I knew Steven Goodhew would only do the work if he thought it possible.

Benjy dressed and went off. I sat with Robin and he showed me how far he had got with the first book of Herodotus. I was amazed at the accuracy in his notes and realised why he said it was difficult as he only had an elementary lexicon. Admittedly there were many gaps but he had constructed a story which made sense. He said he would like to find a good map so he could place exactly where the Persians lived and where Phoenecia was so he could picture the journeys made and where the battles were fought. We looked at the story of Arion, the boy who was rescued by the dolphin, and thought how wonderful that was. He had found two or three old school books which had been thrown out when boys had left so he was able to make sense, as he found words used which were not in his lexicon. He said he had also found two mathematics books which he was working on but he really needed someone to explain some of the ideas. I said he should consult my friend Aubrey Bayes.

We heard the church clock strike eleven and decided we needed bed. My warming pan was just right. I was heated thoroughly and the warming pan got quite hot, too. We did cool slightly when we had provided each other with a good ration of boy seed and slept soundly until cock crow and cock grow in the morning. Robin laughed as I told him that and he said he was sure the portion of good seed had made him grow and he wished to be fed again. Luckily we had both feasted when Benjy tapped on the door with the morning pitcher of hot water and two laughing lads wrestled him and tickled him when he said he had eaten only two eggs and three pieces of bread when he usually had double in the morning.

I breakfasted with father at seven o'clock. He said he would be busy as Milord Pinchpenny was sending his grooms for the hunters and he had letters to prepare for the omnibus companies. His brood mares would be arriving from Ireland in four days he hoped and Mr Jefferson had said he had recommended his steeds to a friend in London. Father then looked at me.

"And what was the merriment about young Jefferson? I hear no work could be got from the maids as they were too busy laughing."

How much to tell Father? I would be as honest as possible.

"I am afraid 'young Jefferson'," I emphasised those two words, "was rather unkind to Benjy. As Benjy is a faithful lad we," and I emphasised that word so Father knew Robin was also involved, "thought to make him suffer, too. As you know he was rather taken with drink so he was decorated and two of the maids saw him and he shouted and slammed his door and was late for breakfast as Aunt Matty's paints are oily..."

He burst out laughing. "Enough, or you will tell me what you decorated."

"Robin did that small part," I said with a straight face.

He roared and had to blow his nose. "Good lads. Here, a crown each and the best laugh I've had for a while and worth every penny." A half sovereign jingled down by my plate. I would give the crown I had from Mr Pratt to Robin as his equal share.

I explained that the new lad was suffering and Lancelot was going to examine him. Father nodded.

"Lancelot is a good physician. And that's what you want to be?"

I said that was my hope. I was studying hard and I had also learned a lot from Dr Dimbleby and Lancelot.

"If it is what you want you must do it. I think one of your brothers will take over the farm and stud in his own good time but there is something we have to discuss as a family. He poured himself more tea. "I have been told that Cobblers Farm is now ready for sale." Ah, that was the farm where the poor boy Eamonn and his family existed in poverty. "There is an old farmhouse and six cottages and about two hundred and fifty acres. It is derelict but I really need more land for my arable crops and the soil is good. It needs money but your mother has a good portion from her father's legacy and your grandmother is well-provided for. I think I can make a good bargain with the lawyers and take on the mortgages without too much trouble."

"The poor woman who lives there, you wouldn't turn her out?"

"Of course not. Your Aunt Matty has sent the elder girl to Mrs Matthews for training in the kitchen. She says she is about thirteen and there are three younger ones but none of the children have been baptised. Rass says he will do that when we have things sorted as they are in his parish. The husband has gone I'm told."

"Benjy says the boy is a willing worker but I have to take him to be examined by Lancelot this morning."

"Learning, eh?"

I smiled and nodded. It was good to hear straight from father what his plans were. I realised I could never be a farmer, nor a horse breeder. I think that Torquil could be once he had got his fill of the military. Terence was more of a dreamer. I had begun to wonder why he had become a soldier. But I had things to do. Both of us had finished eating and Benjy came through to clear our places. My father gave him a smile.

"You did well at dinner on Saturday. Mr Clements says you are an asset."

Benjy blushed. Praise didn't come often from Mr Clements who was a stickler for order and neatness.

"Thank you, sir, I try my best and Mr Clements is very helpful. I hope I please."

Father and I walked along the passage towards his study.

"By the way, the lost soul you brought back with you. Your mother is quite enchanted with him and that horse is quite valuable. He did well, too, on Saturday. Strange background. Must learn more. But, that horse. It's a special breed comes from Germany or even further. Must learn more about that, too."

I said all I knew was that it originally belonged to a boy who was expelled and had said in the presence of witnesses that he wanted nothing more to do with the horse. Father nodded and said the document had been seen by Uncle Dodd who said it was quite legal that the horse was now the boy's. He would ask his lawyer to look it over, too, as he was riding over on Thursday with the farm documents.

Just before half-past eight by our grandfather clock I went along to the kitchen to collect Benjy and Eamonn. He looked a bit apprehensive but Benjy was doing a good job in calming him. We set off in good time and had to wait as Lancelot was examining a small child who had fallen over and had cut his head on a broken bottle. He was telling the mother she really should clear the rubbish away surrounding her cottage or more damage might be done to others. I guessed she lived at the bottom end of the village where the cottages were no more than hovels and was on land in dispute between Squire Matthews and Miss Barnes as it been reclaimed when the river was diverted as it flooded. That task over he was ready for Eamonn. Benjy was the one looking apprehensive now. He seemed rather scared of doctors

Lancelot beckoned both Eamonn and me into the room. This wasn't his cellar room but one off the side door of the Rectory he used to see patients. Eamonn looked close to tears.

"Don't be afraid, lad," Lancelot said, "I want to find out if you're healthy. First thing, let's see your tongue. Open your mouth and stick it as if you are telling old man Peters you don't like him." Old man Peters was a well-known curmudgeon who shouted and swore at anyone who got in the way of his rickety old carriage when he was driven down the main street of the village. As children liked to hear him shout and swear they were often in the way! The lad smiled slightly and did as told. Lancelot looked at the protruding object carefully. "D'you mind my cousin looking? He's thinking of being my assistant." I stepped forward and peered. "See here, Tom, there is a thick whiteness at the back. He needs good food and that will clear." He reached out and picked up a polished rod with a flat piece of wood stuck onto each end. "Put your tongue back now and take off your jacket and shirt I want to listen to your heart and lungs."

The lad did what he was told and I took his garments and laid them on a chair. Lancelot beckoned him closer. He put the rod against the lad's chest and put his ear against the other end. "Open your mouth and breath in. Hold it. Now breath out. Now turn round." He repeated that three times listening at different places. He held up the instrument and gave it to me. "Place it there -" he indicated a spot near the lad's lower ribs "- now listen carefully." I did and could hear quite clear a little bubbling sound as he breathed in and out. I said that was what I heard. He nodded. "He needs a little ipecacuanha to get rid of that. Make a note for me. Just put 'ipec'." He turned to the boy again as I was writing on a notepad on the desk. "I think you have a little trouble down below. Is that so?" The lad blushed and looked ready to cry. "Don't worry. All will be well but I must look. Undo your trousers." Slowly and rather reluctantly he did this and stood with a quite clean nether garment. "You'll need to take that down as well." Very slowly he did as told and I saw immediately what Benjy had described. Actually he did have the makings of a small darkish bush but his dick was still small and wrinkled as mine had been when I was twelve or so. His balls did hang loose and were like small damsons in their sac. He also had red patches running down into his hair on either side of his dick.

"Do you itch behind?" asked Lancelot gently. The boy nodded. "It's the worms isn't it?" The boy nodded again. Everyone knew about worms. I'd had them twice when I was much younger and had to be flushed out. I looked around and made sure there was a commode in the corner. "Do you know what I have to do?" The boy nodded and sniffed. "I'm going to send Benjy for some warm water and then we'll wash them out. Been to the privy this morning?" Another nod. I was instructed to tell Benjy what was needed. As I came back into the room Lancelot was taking up a narrow metal pipe with a bladder on the end. "We'll soon have them out," he said. He told the lad what he was going to do. Eamonn said quietly he had always had worms and his mother had tried to get rid of them using a hollow stem when he was younger but they always came back. Now he was older he didn't want his mother to see him.

"Nothing to worry about. I expect I might be a little more expert," he said, but I noticed he didn't show the boy the pipe and bladder. I went to the door when we heard Benjy return. I poured some of the warm water into a jug and Lancelot added two handfuls of salt and something else from a bottle. He filled the bladder and told the boy to go over nearer the commode and to bend down. He put a little grease from a pot on the pipe and slid it into the boy's hole. The boy gasped as Lancelot squeezed the bladder and the liquid filled him.

"Let it rest as long as you can hold it," he instructed him. I think we waited a couple of minutes then the boy turned and sat on the commode and looked relieved as the water rushed out. "Sit for a moment I want to ask you some questions." Lancelot stood close to the boy shielding me from his sight. "Tell me truthfully, do you take pleasure at night?" He must have pointed downwards. "Yes, sir," mumbled the boy. "When did you find you could?" "At Easter, sir, a boy shew me." "Every day now?" I couldn't hear a reply but Lancelot said, "That's alright." There was a moment or two of silence. "Have you finished?" The boy must have nodded again as Lancelot handed him some soft paper and the boy stood after wiping himself.

"That should clear the little wretches," Lancelot said, "But tell Benjy if you feel you have them again. Now let's see this itch." He took up a small piece of flat wood and scraped a little of the redness onto a thin piece of glass. "I'll look at that later but we need a cure." He went over to a shelf and took down an earthenware jar. He put some of the contents into a small pot using a spatula. "Now you do what I say and you must put some of this ointment on that redness each morning and evening. Make certain you wash yourself down there each day or I'll get Mrs Boggis to do it with her scrubbing brush." Mrs Boggis was a huge woman who came in most mornings to the 'rough work' and was generally on her knees scrubbing the kitchen tiles. The boy did smile then. Lancelot handed him the pot. "Now, smear a little up and down. Not too much, just enough to cover that itch." The boy did as he was told exactly. It was Lancelot's turn to nod. "Now get dressed.... ...Benjy!" he shouted, Benjy appeared at the door, "Take yourself and Eamonn to the kitchen and see if Mrs Reynolds has anything in her larder that's edible. Don't tell her that, though!"

I had plenty of questions to ask but Lancelot was busy scribbling things in the notebook, then stood and took up the pipe and bladder and washed the pipe in water from the pitcher Benjy had brought in. "Don't want to give the next sufferer more of those little horrors." He pointed to the water and I could see two white threads which were still. "That was salt with a little dried root of some tree they call quassia. I've found it kills them quite readily." He picked up the thin piece of glass. "I can look at this with my new microscope. Father said it was an expense but he paid for it. Need good light for that. This will look no doubt like that rust mildew we find on plants. There's still so much to learn."

"What was in the ointment?" I asked.

"It's something I find very useful. Some mutton fat and I mix in sulphur and dried hellebore plus a little of a chemical called hydrate of potassium. I got that receipt when in Paris. It should ease him quickly."

Now or never. "Lancelot... ...that boy... ...he's over fifteen...." I began.

"And he hasn't got what you've got and he still speaks high but he gets pleasure. Is that what you mean?"

My turn to nod.

"I forget to ask if he spurted. Boys can get pleasure from just rubbing but I was remiss. I must make a note." He scribbled again. "Now, he's over fifteen. He looks and sounds like you were at twelve or so, eh?" Another nod. "It is something I have noted many times with the poor. Some doctors think the poor are a different race, like the Chinese or the Red Indians in America. I don't think so. I would venture that they lack good food and do not grow, they are often ill as they live in poor conditions. There are other things. Many poor boys and girls in the cities have curved legs, their bones are strange. I have seen these after a child has died and the skeleton has been examined."

I must have squirmed. He was well away. "You will have to see such things in your studies so it is best you start to hear about them now. I have seen it when Torquil has asked me to examine boys who want to enlist. There are boys of eighteen who look little more than that lad. They want to escape their life in a city with its dirt and grime. I measure them. They are barely over five feet whereas a good, well-fed country boy would be around five feet six. The higher the social class then boys are likely to be taller. Good food, good drink and a boy grows and he spurts at thirteen or fourteen." I must have blushed. "I would be most surprised if you didn't and you look just like a Red Indian now!" He laughed. "Anymore questions? I have to go and visit Mrs Rogers and check that babe of hers. Red hair! Who would have thought it with Mr Rogers so black" He winked. "You'd better go to the kitchen, too. Mrs Reynolds has some good bread pudding with raisins." He shook his head. "I even had it for breakfast."

I was halfway through a good slice of excellent bread pudding when Lancelot came rushing through clad in greatcoat and a fur hat. "The boy?" He asked. Mrs Reynolds pointed to the room off the kitchen where boots and shoes were cleaned.

"I gave the two of them a little task," she said, "Three pairs of boots to be cleaned each and another slice as a reward."

I thought that two of these slices would put a little more around Benjy's belly but he had said he would take that slice for Timmy and the maids who would be busy in our kitchen.

Lancelot handed Mrs Reynolds a phial of brown liquid. "Give him one good spoonful of this now and he is to have another when he goes to bed tonight. It should help to clear that rattle in his chest."

I said I would see that Benjy dosed him and Lancelot was gone.

"He is a good man," mused Mrs Reynolds, "But I daren't send the maids into those rooms of his."

The two maids, I assumed were cleaning and making the beds as there was no sign of them.

I finished munching and had a beaker of tea as well before the boys came into the kitchen bearing the shining boots. Mrs Reynolds inspected them and said they were perfect and the boys were given their second piece. Both asked for a piece of paper and wrapped the pieces up. "I will take this for my little brother and sisters," Eamonn said, "Mistress Gray said I may have an hour to see them this afternoon." Mrs Reynolds gave him two other pieces and I thought he was a kind lad to think of his family. Benjy was smiling and nodding. These were good, kind lads and made me think of that wicked Black Jack and his evil cronies.

I think Mrs Reynolds thought kindly of them, too. She was smiling as she said Eamonn should take his draught and that Benjy should see he had a second that evening.

As we walked back to the Hall I thought I would try to answer Lancelot's question about the boy but that would have to wait until I saw Benjy alone this evening when he brought me my pitcher of hot water to wash.

All was busy again in the house. With so many rooms to heat and clean there was a constant scurrying of maids and another two boys had been brought in to help instead of being employed as young stable-hands. They were twins and just a bit older than me and had been faithful snarers and apple gatherers last year when we foraged and pillaged like those Vikings I had read about. I told them we were probably their descendants as the map in the book showed they had landed on the coast above us. As none of them had never seen the sea and I had only seen it once when my Father had taken me to King's Lynn after the Wisbech Horse Fair we had to make do with our little river and splashed ashore from that.

But I was Master Tom now and both were rather deferential until I asked if they had managed to kiss Patty Hine. They both laughed and said they would try at the Village Feast as they hadn't and as far as they knew no one had. Patty Hine was our age and thought herself to be above most of the village as her father had a draper's shop and kept a pony and trap to visit customers. Patty never knew how to treat me as I had run wild with the village boys until I left to go to school. Those boys were my friends and we had shared many secrets including the length of our growing pizzles and whether Jabez Bottom would be showing his in a circus show in London as we were sure no one else had such a size as his.

I went along to our Library as I knew it would be cosy in there and Uncle Dodd was always giving my mother books he had read and didn't want in his own overflowing rooms. Mrs Bottom was in there dusting complaining that the girls hadn't been too careful removing the ash from the grate. She hesitated a moment or two after she saw I had picked up a book from the small table.

"Master Tom," she began, "May I ask you a favour." I said of course she could. She smiled. "That young Timmy he's a real pleasure to have. I haven't had to wash a pot or lay a table and even Bottom says he knows plants. But he is worried about the old woman he lived with in the North. He said he thought she was very ancient but she had taught him about herbs and other things. He would like to know if she is still well. Do you know where he came from? I cannot write but I would ask if you know to write for me." I knew Mrs Bottom was unable to read and write as Robin had written her letters to Jabez and Caleb and had read their replies back to her. "I would ask young Philip to write but we do not know where." Ah, so Robin's brother had taken over that task.

I said as far as I knew he had been born and raised where a friend's father had a big house. I didn't say he was Lord Harford and my friend was an Honourable as that would have frightened her for being presumptuous. I said I would write to my friend and try to find out. I knew Mrs Bottom had a good heart and I also wanted to tell George that Timmy had found a home. That would be my task for now. I found some writing-paper and remembered the address was Garthorpe Hall, Garthorpe, Westmoreland. In my letter I told George I had arrived home safely but we had had adventures since with the robbers. I didn't tell him about the guillotined head. I would keep that until I knew more I told him about Timmy's acceptance and how he wanted to know about the old woman and my father was intrigued with the horse. I wished him a Merry Christmas and sealed the letter. I knew Jackson would take my father's letters to the mail for four o'clock so put the letter in the tray with others already there.

There were only the three of us for Dinner that evening. My father was full of praise for Steven Goodhew who said he would make a survey of the grounds as he was not sure all the water would run away unless there was a good slope. My mother just laughed and said we would be really ahead with London ways but she didn't want to know any details as the present smells were not to her liking anyway. She asked my father if we should have the gas lighting as well like his sister but he said we would have to have a gasworks to make it and he didn't think we were ready for that and when he had seen a London one that was even more smelly than a chamber pot or two. All this disgusting conversation while I was trying to eat my slices of roast mutton with Jackson trying not to laugh as he passed my father more claret. When I pointed to my empty glass he poured me just a half.

I would have a lonely bed tonight. Robin said he would go to his own home as he wanted to hear what his father had to say about the proposed building of the 'flushing closets' and they were going to visit the Rector with the money for the memorials tomorrow and that was a whole day's journey to Stinstead and back. Still, I could find things to do especially if I visited the forge but I still had a task to do this evening.

As I left the dining-room to go up to bed Jackson said it was another cold night but the warming pan was not available and there wasn't one spare at the moment unless... I said I hoped he might get Mary Ann to warm him sometime. He sighed, "If only..." I don't know why I had said that but here was a third young man who had desires for her!

My room was quite warm enough and I read more chapters of the book I had found in our Library this afternoon about Tristram Shandy. It was tucked away and I soon realised why especially when I read the word 'genitals' in the first few pages. But, it was quite obscure and I found I skipped more than I read. I guessed they were begetting, the only good word I could think of, their son Tristram when the wife interrupted the event by asking about the clock and making her husband swear. I put it down as it confused me so I started a book I had also found there by Mr Dickens called 'Oliver Twist'. This was quite wordy but I thought I would persevere. I was interrupted by Benjy's rap on the door.

Benjy looked a bit downcast as he came in with my pitcher. Poor Eamonn had come back with the news that his father had finally deserted them and said he was going to find work elsewhere. Aunt Matty had been at the cottage and had sent logs for the fire and a basket of food and said his mother and children would not be sent to the Poor House but she would arrange for parish relief. I said my Aunt had a kind heart and he agreed. I said perhaps he might have the boy to his cubby-hole of a room upstairs to comfort him. I then told him what my cousin Lancelot had said about the poor. Benjy said he was lucky as his mother always had food on the table and his father only drank on a Saturday evening but liked his pipe. His father was the local carter and travelled to and fro from the canal and small towns. He was the man who had been telling Mr Barker the iron was not yet available on the wharf. I said he could check if the boy washed himself and put the ointment on properly. In fact, if Benjy did it for him he might find an answer... I had to be careful. I didn't want Benjy to gossip. ...I just said the boy had said he did pleasure himself but hadn't said if he spurted. Benjy smiled.

"That might be something to discuss. I have seen him look when I have used the pot I keep in the pantry." He laughed. "Do not worry it does not get poured into the gravy but it is better than rushing out to the privy in the cold." He looked slyly at me. "If you have some of Mr Lancelot's potion I could practice on you... ...But then I know..."

It was a good job he had put the pitcher on the hearth. I leapt up and wrestled him and we wrestled each other and tried to tickle but coats and shirts got in the way. We just lay and laughed at each other. "I miss our antics," he said, puffing a bit, "Jackson is too busy thinking about Mary Ann." He made rather suggestive movements with his hand and I knew exactly what Jackson did when he was thinking. "I am too young to think any of those girls would look at me." He laughed. "But I have a strong right arm, too."

I said I would see him in the morning early and he could lay out my oldest clothes which might still fit me as I wanted to go to the forge. He bowed and grinned. "Building up a strong right arm..." I chased him out, both of us laughing. I washed, blew out the candles and crept into my bed and felt my strength was adequate for the task in hand!

To be continued: