Tom Browning's Schooldays
By
Joel
Chapter Four
A delighted murmur ran round the room as the news was spread and I'm sure that even Mr Pretyman on the High Table smiled. A good shot whoever it was! But I needed my food!
Breakfast was a good hot porridge and I saw that a number of boys had packets of sugar which they added liberally. I had already tasted and noted that it was rather salty when George sitting beside me the other side passed a package to me.
"I won't charge you and Theo for this today," he said with a grin, "Lucky I remembered our Friday gruel. It's best Jamaican brown. Father still gets a sack or two when he remembers to send a message to the docks."
I thanked him and tipped a small pile onto my steaming bowl. I passed the packet to Theo.
"Thanks be to Saint George!" he said, "I must go to Mrs Trotter's this afternoon and spend some of the guinea I had from brother Percy."
"A whole guinea," said George receiving back the packet, "You are rich this term. When have you had a guinea before?"
Theo snorted. "You know full well my Father does not believe in being profligate with his money. I would get nothing unless my Mother or my brothers pass me a widow's mite as Henry says. Luckily they are as generous as Father is parsimonious. But I am used to it." He nudged me. "I must tell you sometime about my sisters and their dowries."
This set George off laughing. "I have heard it all before. Daughters are expensive beasts my Father says. Much more so than any of Sam Browning's finest mounts, eh?"
I just wrinkled my nose at him. I had heard stories of how much it cost my Father when Peg announced she wanted to marry. Luckily she had her inheritance from grandfather Crossley who had made a deal of money when they found iron ore under part of his land. My share was invested in Government Stock with the interest buying more and I would not get anything before my twenty-first birthday. Until then Father said I would have to be kept and make him poorer by the hour! Still he had handed me three shiny new sovereigns which I had hidden away at home with the two sovereigns I had left from Ranald. Most of the stock of coins I had brought with me was well-wrapped and hidden in a secret drawer in my chest which our carpenter Mr Johnson had cleverly made for me. I would also have to see what this Mrs Trotter had to offer using some of the four shillings and sixpence I had in my everyday purse.
I think most of us went up for a second helping from the cauldron. This time no more sugar but it was good enough and with the tasty hot cordial as well I felt replete.
Somehow we had spent more time in taking breakfast than the day before mainly because there was much discussion afterwards about Pullen and also the announcement that a football game would take place this afternoon between Carstairs' House and ours. George said he would play and hoped he would not be injured. All the bigger boys in our House wrote their names on the list and Winstanley was down as captain. I did not enter my name as I was determined to ride again before my class with Mr Ridley at four o'clock and I did not know the rules either.
The Chapel service was next. The hymn today was 'O God Our Help in Ages Past' and I again sang out lustily. I was not used to a service every day though I knew my Uncle Dodd said his Morning and Evening Prayer daily, with various of the servants attending, either in his study at the Rectory or beside the great monument in our church to long-dead Varleys. He said that always set him up for the day especially as he knew there were no more Varleys to bother him as they had been both Catholic and Puritan depending on who had been on the throne or not, and the last had died in a duel with a Frenchman in seventeen hundred and one. When Robin and I asked him what the duel was about he said he didn't know, but Frenchmen were hot-tempered and were always killing each other that way and he supposed Varley insulted someone.
I said my Grandma Crossley was French and she was sweet-tempered. Uncle Dodd always had an answer. "Your Grandmother is a lady and that is the difference!"
As we left the Chapel Aubrey asked me if I had made headway with the Greek parsing. I said I had and hoped it would satisfy Mr Martin. He laughed. "You must wait until we have to translate the other way. He surpasses all our efforts and I despair sometimes of making sense."
No one was called up to construe. Mr Martin gave us five minutes to write our translations out neatly and to hand them in. He then got Aubrey to explain a theorem I had not seen before on arcs in a circle. He did it most fluently and I began to grasp his method. I knew I would have to work hard to equal him if ever I could. Uncle Dodd had said that some things like mathematics or music appeared in families and I wondered if this was so with Aubrey.
That hour passed quickly and then we listened while one of the older boys, Fanshaw, read the first chapter from Ivanhoe. He had a fine speaking voice and he was not interrupted but at the end Mr Martin asked if we had known about the Crusades. I must admit I did not and Mr Martin said that next time we would look at some maps of the Holy Land and its neighbours so we could make sense of what had happened during those troubling times. Just as we finished three boys appeared. They were the ones whose journeys had been delayed. It turned out two were twins named Johnson who had travelled from France where their father had business and the other had joined them on the Dover coach. Mr Martin welcomed them heartily and I realised all three were popular as the others in the class who knew them waved and called out. Mr Martin said that we would finish then and for our Saturday morning classes we would look more at the History of Rome as well as a little more mathematics. There was a groan at that but Mr Martin just smiled and said he would be glad when he could let Mr Dimbleby loose on us.
As we filed out I heard the twins being greeted and slapped on the back as they waited for the other boy who had come in with them. I think Mr Martin had said his name was Pedersen which sounded foreign to me. Anyway as I walked out in front of them I heard the three conversing in French. I slowed down as I wanted to catch what they were saying.
"Qu'est ce gar‡on aux cheveux noirs?" one of the twins was asking.
"Lequel?" The other one asked.
"L'un en face d'tu."
"Je ne sais pas, il est un gamin neuf."
"Comment s'appelle?" Asked the Pedersen boy of the others.
As Grandmama Crossley was French so my Mother had been taught the language from an early age. She had continued this with all of us so my brothers and sisters were also quite fluent and as I was the youngest and Mother had more time with me she would talk to me in French at all times. As Robin was often in the house he had also picked up more than a smattering of the language and we would tease the other boys in the village especially if we had things to say we didn't want them to know. So, I concluded that as I had black hair and was in front of them and I was a new boy they were talking about me. I stopped and turned.
"Bonjour, mes amis, je suis le gamin aux cheveux noirs c'est ‡a?" I smiled at their looks of astonishment. I bowed my head in greeting. "Je m'appelle Tom Browning. Je suis heureux de faire votre connaisance." I put out a hand and each of them shook it with great smiles on their faces.
One of the twins laughed. "You have upset our secret. We didn't know anyone else here spoke French. You heard our surname Johnson, but I'm Martin..." He pronounced it the French way. ".... this is my brother Alain, and this is our friend Daniel Pedersen."
Both Aubrey and Theo had also stopped and were grinning at the interchange between us. As it was too early to go to our luncheon we six went and sat under one of the trees near the playing field. Of course, Aubrey and Theo wanted to know what we had been talking about and I was questioned about how I knew French as the others knew the twins and Pedersen talked in French a lot of the time. Theo's comment was "Wait until I tell George!"
We chatted on and I heard the twins went to France each vacation as they called them. Daniel's father was a consul at the port of Dover dealing with Scandinavian travellers' problems and his mother was French. The Channel packet had been delayed because of the weather so that was why they were late. The rest of us said we would like to visit France and got immediate invitations. Something for the future. Anyway, they had a room further along our landing and had worked it so Daniel was classified as their fag as he was six months younger than them. The twins were just sixteen and wanted to attend Cambridge but Daniel said he was destined for the University of Copenhagen where his father had been.
Just before time for lunch George appeared with a strange look on his face. It was obvious he was itching to tell us something but wasn't sure if he could, or should, with the others there. Anyway, we all had luncheon together and there were mutton chops with mashed potato, carrots and gravy and slices of boiled pudding afterwards. I left them talking together as soon as I had finished as I wanted to go riding. I noted that Theo had said nothing about me speaking French!
As soon as I had changed into my riding britches I went to the stables. I found Robin and Timmy both curry combing Black Jack's horse.
"How's Torquil?" I asked and immediately realised my mistake.
Robin looked over at me. "I don't know," he said with an impish grin, "Your brother was in Canterbury last time I heard." Timmy looked at him curiously. "It's alright, Timmy, Master Browning doesn't know the difference between his brother and this horse."
"Alright, Robin, I know. This is Tarquin!" I said with a slight sneer. Then laughed... ...But, I'd better not say what I had thought. Later, perhaps, when Robin and I were out riding.
The lad spoke for the first time in my hearing. He had a most pleasant voice and smiled at me. "Oh, Master Browning, Robin has been so helpful. The liniment has been good and Tarquin is to have new shoes this afternoon. Master Shem is taking him to the forge."
I looked at Tarquin. He would be a fine mount with a bit more care. I put a hand out and stroked his muzzle. He neighed softly.
Timmy watched with a rather wary look on his face than shook his head. "I was afeared he might snap at you but he knows you are kind. Not like...." He stopped and bit his lip. I knew he was referring to his master. Robin was quite forthright.
"Don't worry, Timmy," he said taking the lad's arm, "We all know and you'll come to no more harm." He looked over to me and pursed his lips. I knew I mustn't comment. I would hear later.
I was ready to go riding and Robin waited until Timmy had Tarquin safely in his stall and was using the comb again on the side of his neck. He was talking softly to the horse and the horse was responding by moving his head against the lad's outstretched arm.
We saddled our mounts quickly and I knew Blaze was pleased to see me as he also neighed softly as I stroked his muzzle as well. Robin checked I had tightened the saddle girth enough and we mounted and were off.
I commented that the other grooms weren't around. Robin said they were eating their victuals behind the tack room and Shem had delivered a flagon of ale from his mother's brewhouse for them. "I had my food with Timmy and didn't allow him any ale in case Black Jack appears. The boy is a gentle lad and needs his wits about him when that..." He stopped. I knew he was about to make a forceful remark about Jack Lascelles.
"I haven't met him yet," I said, "But his cousin doesn't like him. Poor George is in the Remove with him and isn't happy."
Robin wanted to know what 'Remove' meant. I said as far as I knew it was where all the boys who were hopeless, witless or plain lazy were placed to keep them away from those who might wish to learn. I didn't know why George was placed there but something had happened to him the previous year.
"I think I know," said Robin, "But I will not say. All I will say is that Shem thinks he was brave."
I knew Robin would not gossip so I would have to wait until either George or Theo told me. But I had to tease him. "I will have to tell my brother you were comparing him with a horse..."
Robin just laughed. "...but your brother is no gelding!"
"That's what I meant." We laughed together as we set our steeds to a canter along the lane.
I loved it as the wind blew my hair about. I knew Blaze was enjoying the ride as well. We reached the field and increased our pace to a full gallop. Robin was 'Hallooing' as we rode and I imagined a full hunt with Squire Matthews' hounds as we would enjoy, no doubt, on St Stephen's Day.. I thought then of the calamity which had happened to Terence when his horse, startled by a huntsman's horn, had refused a fence on this New Year's Hunt and he was thrown. He was carried home on a hurdle with a broken left leg. He was to return to Canterbury to his Troop a few days after I was bundled off to school. I missed him as during those few months at home he had shared many things with me and with Robin which had turned us from being young boys wondering what was happening to us to much more knowledgeable growing youths. Of course, we three also had our secret sign which bound us together as well.
I knew I could not ride too long as I must be back to join Mr Ridley's group at four o'clock. We made our way back and I left Blaze for Robin to unsaddle. I asked him how his reading of Herodotus was proceeding.
"It is difficult," he said as he took the bridle, "I only wish I could make more sense. I have just read of the death of Croesus's son and it says he mourned for two years. I must show you sometime, but when?"
Oh, my friend. Our happy times together are now so limited.
He smiled. "But I am helping young Timmy with his letters. He can read but slowly and I have lent him the book of grammar and stories your mother gave me when I was learning to read. He is so pleased and we sit together with the candle between us and the other boys laugh and say we are like two old maids saying our prayers."
I left him and walked back to the House. I wanted to help him but how? As I got nearer I could hear the shouts of the football players and saw the scramble for the ball as they rushed to and fro. I passed two of the older ones who were sitting smoking long clay pipes and watching the play.
"Hello!" one said as I got near them, "Been riding, eh? You must be young Browning. Heard about you from Darlow. Says you ride well and you have your own groom, eh?"
I stopped and said I was Browning and that I enjoyed riding. I knew Mr Darlow was the head groom. The other one eyed me up and down. He had a short brown beard and a pair of small spectacles perched on his nose. His cap had a dark blue tassel so I knew he was in Carstairs's House.
"You're Lascelles fag, eh?" he enquired. "Thought we might have had you but you were put in Mr Ridley's House. Got some other young lug instead. He can brew a good pot of tea, though, and that's important. D'you know him? Simpson?"
I said I did and that we were both in Mr Martin's form.
The other nodded. "Good fellow that Martin. I have extra Greek verse with him. Got to get up to scratch. Can't let the pater down."
His companion laughed. "Your father has better things to do than worry about your Greek verse."
"Yes, Peel keeps him busy now he's holding the reins. Father complains all the time though about the bloody income tax. Says he'll be ruined but he still finds plenty to buy more blasted paintings."
My father certainly didn't like income tax - he also complained about it, too. But, Mr Peel? The Prime Minister? I would ask.
"Mr Peel?" I got no further as the first lad laughed and pointed his clay pipe at the second.
"Baring's pater's in the thick of things. Don't worry. A firm hand on the tiller is his motto, especially where money's concerned, eh?"
Baring laughed. "Mustn't grumble though I see little enough of it." He took a watch out of his waistcoat pocket. "Better go as it's gone half past three."
Both were big lads and must be nigh on eighteen, I thought, if their hairy faces were anything to go by. Baring was very stylishly dressed. A black frock coat and a grey waistcoat which looked like silk. If father spent his money on pictures he also spent money on his son's clothing especially on those very shiny leather boots.
Half past three. I'd better hurry and change. I went quickly for a piss in the trough and a 'lick and a promise' wash of my hands and face and galloped up the stairs. I changed as fast as I could and ran a comb through my wind-swept locks. George had a small mirror on a stand on his part of the desk so I took a quick look at myself. Not bad! No smudges on my face and my hair was quite tidy. Now for Mr Ridley.
I made my way over to his house. The front door was open and young Barney stood there.
"Good afternoon, Mr Browning," he said very politely, "Mr Ridley is expecting you, please go through to the study and you may leave your cap here." He then grinned. "May I suggest I brush your jacket, you have some dust on your sleeve." He picked up a clothes brush from the table by the door. It must have been ready for grubby youths like me, I thought. I was brushed down. "There we are, Sir," he said, laying down the brush and I went forward to the door I had been through before. Just as I reached it I heard Barney greet some one else. It was Theo. I also heard he was dusty. I was grinning as I entered the room after knocking and being called in.
I bowed my head to the sitting figure behind the desk. Mr Ridley smiled and pointed to a vacant seat. There were already four boys sitting silently. One was Aubrey and two others were the lads I had just been speaking to. Baring and his friend. The fourth was also older. I recognised him as the reader of the lesson from the Old Testament in Chapel this morning. Baring grinned and held up a thumb in greeting. Theo came in and sat next to me and gradually others arrived until there were ten of us. One vacant chair.
It was good timing. The grandfather clock in the corner of the room struck four. Mr Ridley then spoke.
"Good afternoon," he said and looked from one end of the row to the other, there was a murmur of 'Good afternoon, Sir' from all of us. "As you can see we are missing Winstanley, who is enjoying the rough and tumble on the football field, and we have two new members of our group to replace Barton and Carruthers who will shortly be at Oxford. To save their embarrassment we will introduce the older members to them first."
I listened intently as each in turn said their names from left to right. I would try to remember them. There was Buckingham, fair-haired with rather large ears who I knew was in a room along our landing; Preston, the one who read the lesson was in Parker's House; Megson the vicar's son I knew was a bit of a prig but I didn't catch which House he was in; Farquar, with a Scottish accent and a brown mole on the side of his chin was in our House, too, as I recognised him from seeing him in the dining room; Baring, with the silk waistcoat and Graves, his friend with beard and specs I knew were in Carstairs' House; Dennison, with wavy brown hair, was in Parker's and lastly, Theo Davis, my room-mate.
Mr Ridley pointed at Aubrey, who very clearly introduced himself as Aubrey Bayes of Mr Ridley's House. My turn, last but not least. I had decided to say I was Tom, not Thomas. I was only called Thomas at home when my mother was exasperated with me! So Tom Browning of Mr Ridley's House was introduced.
Mr Ridley then explained for our benefit that the group was always made up of those who might, and he emphasised 'might', be going on to university and 'might' show some interest in discussing matters of various kinds, philosophical or otherwise.
I just wondered what I was in for. I had no knowledge of philosophy. Uncle Dodd was fond of quoting someone he said was a philosopher, Hobbes, I think, all about life being poor, nasty, brutish and short and said we were lucky boys to be reared in the country and not in one of the growing cities with all the poverty. I think I knew what he meant as I had slipped away one afternoon from the family visit to London last Christmas and wandered off and had come across some very poor-looking dwellings. I had retreated when three boys, smaller than me but no doubt older, had started shouting and threatening to 'bash the toff'. Although it was cold they had no overcoats and I think one had bare feet. I didn't wait to see further! Anyway, Mr Ridley had said we would be reading some book about making good arguments and some people in Parliament would be better if they read it, too.
This afternoon I just listened as one of the older boys, Preston, talked about reading a book by Sir Thomas More who had died for his beliefs under Henry the Eighth. He asked Mr Ridley how did many of the clergy and others change their views so decisively after Henry had defied the Pope and declared himself head of the Church? Would any of us be like Sir Thomas who would not change and so had lost his life? Mr Ridley said he had thought of such things many times but had never been able to say what he would do. This set off quite a discussion with almost all saying that one should never waver from one's cherished beliefs even if it meant some form of danger to one's life. In the end I piped up and said that as we were all very young we might feel differently if placed in such a fix. Mr Ridley smiled and said I had made a good point. We could argue now about such things but it was when we were placed in such a position it was then we would show our mettle.
Just as the grandfather clock struck five Mr Ridley said we should stop now and next week Winstanley would talk about a book he had read on the findings of Sir Humphrey Davy and others. I was interested to hear that as my cousin Lancelot had told me about the lamp used by miners and was always mixing chemicals and had frightened Robin and me several times with loud bangs or with noxious smells. He said that the study of chemistry would no doubt make great differences to our lives and the medicines he concocted were all to do with chemistry and that was only one use.
As the last chime sounded there was a tap on the door. Mr Ridley called out 'Enter' and the butler and Barney wheeled in a trolley loaded with tea things and a heap of 'cook's specials' which I had sampled before. There was general conversation then with us newcomers being questioned about ourselves. This was most interesting as I had been warned I should not speak to older boys unless spoken to first and that, usually, the older ones ignored those younger unless they wanted a fag. I felt this group was rather special. I would have to work hard to keep my place but I was pleased when both Farquar and Preston said I had made a good point about having to be in an actual situation to make a decision. I told them then of what Torquil had said when on furlough once. Although he had been a military man since he was eighteen he had never been in a battle so did not know what he would do if confronted with an enemy. He said that being under orders and having to order his men, too, he no doubt would fight as bravely as he could. My mother, I knew, was worried about her sons but father had said it was because we had such a strong army, made up of brave sons like his, that we had not seen a real war since Boney.
Farquar said his brother who was an artilleryman had said the same thing. The question was what is an enemy? Mr Ridley had been listening and said that was a good point and that we might consider that at some time. I said that did not only cover people but there were enemies like disease, lack of food and, perhaps, such things as poverty and ignorance. I was only repeating something which Uncle Dodd had preached on but Mr Ridley looked at me quizzically but said nothing. I hoped I hadn't said too much.
As there were several of the small cakes left Mr Ridley said we could take them. Theo said George would be starving after playing football so we could take him one each. As I had eaten two and had two cups of tea I would be satisfied until the evening meal so George would have a treat.
As we came out of Mr Ridley's the football game had just ended. There were three 'hurrahs' for the winners but which side had won we didn't know. There was still much chat going on so we made slow progress to our House and when we arrived at our room George was already there. We knew because as soon as we reached the door there was a strong aroma of hot, sweaty boy. In fact, George had stripped off completely and was wincing and swearing under his breath as he flexed his right leg and, at the same time, holding his ballsack rather carefully.
"So, who won?" Theo said, sniffing as he did so, "And you stink! And you can't have these until you're decent." He held up the two cakes we had brought back.
"Nice greeting," said George, still lifting his cods and contorting his face as if in pain. "I just happened to kick the winning goal and some bastard tapped me on the balls at the same time and my leg hurts!" His balls hung low as he dropped them and held out a rather muddy hand. Theo gave him the two cakes which disappeared in a couple of shakes of a bull's pizzle as my brother Terence often said.
I must say I did snigger a little but was also studying George's well-made nude body. I thought of that Greek statue of the muscular youth I had seen many times in Uncle Wright's study. At least George was better equipped than that lad as big as he was sculpted and I considered even when I was younger I had more to show than him. I suppose I was about seven when I first saw it and also learned that big brothers sometimes told lies to young brothers!
George looked at me as he finished munching. Perhaps my gaze was a little intense and he interrupted my memories. "Why are you staring? Are you sizing me up like a piece of horseflesh like that Blaze of yours?"
"No, but I can see you differ from Blaze as he is a gelding and I would say you are entire."
At this Theo burst out laughing. "George, the boy is right, a proper stallion and ready to stand at stud!"
George sneered. "And you well know!" He then began to rub his thigh. "I got kicked here and I hope I can still run tomorrow."
"When a horse is lame," I said keeping a straight face, "We always rub in plenty of liniment. I have some in my box."
"Horse liniment!" George grunted, "I'm no horse to have horse liniment!"
"No," I said, "I have some suitable for more delicate withers. My cousin gave it to me for such occasions as your hurt."
I went over to my chest and unlocked it and took out the box Lancelot had prepared for me containing a few remedies which he recommended. I opened the box and took out the stoppered bottle labelled 'Liniment' and held it up for George's inspection. "It is made of oil of wintergreen and other things my cousin says are warming. When I complained of an aching leg after one of the village races he used some on me and it was very comforting."
George took the bottle and unstoppered it. He sniffed and grimaced. "It smells mighty strong. What does one do?"
"As with a horse you rub it into the affected part," I said and Theo looking on laughed again.
"Let the boy do it," he said, "If it cures you it will be a blessing as we can't have you not running tomorrow." He took the bottle and had a sniff. He grimaced as well. "I know that smell. My father has a bottle like that and rubs his legs when he has the rheumatics. Does him good he says." He handed the bottle back to me.
I poured a little on my hand. "Tell me where it hurts and I'll rub it in." George pointed to the top of his thigh and then round to his muscular backside.
"I was kicked there but I have an ache also here after I kicked that heavy ball for that last goal."
I set to and to murmurs and grunts I rubbed the warming liquid into his muscles. I took great pleasure in smoothing over those hefty globes and pressed my hand hard into the flesh as he almost purred like my mother's old cat Tib.
"Some more, please, near the top of my leg," he said pointing to the front.
"I had better be careful," I said, "You would not want this near your..." I wondered what to say. He had said 'balls' so I copied him. "...balls as that would make you more than wince."
"Hold still!" he said, "They are precious." He lifted the heavy-looking sac away and I poured more on my hand before attacking his thigh. He was grunting now with contentment and I noted his pizzle was beginning to fatten. I laughed inwardly. I knew what would have happened if the liniment had made contact, as it had with dear Robin when I had anointed him after he complained of aches after a strenuous day's riding. Like George his pizzle had begun to harden and, as I had helped it to that state many times, without thinking I had grasped it with my liniment damp hand and had cupped his balls as well. He had screeched as if the Devil himself had caught hold of him. He had threatened many times since to creep into my room when I was asleep and drip the fluid on mine as punishment whenever I had annoyed him. He did confess the next day that when the heat had gone he was so aroused he'd had great pleasure three times that night.
At last George was satisfied with my ministrations and joined Theo who, meantime, had been inspecting my box of remedies.
"Your cousin has supplied you with quite an apothecary's shop here. I know camomile as my mother has that when she feels low and I think I had paregoric when I had the croup. But what is this arnica? And this sage tea?"
I had learned well from Lancelot. He said he had seen so many stupid remedies and many more stupid doctors who prescribed them. He said it was best to keep to those receipts which did least harm and might ease different sorts of suffering. As he had studied in Edinburgh as well and travelled to Paris and Leiden after he was qualified he had seen what new things were being found and discussed in such places.
I explained carefully just as Lancelot had said. Arnica was easy, that rubbed in well helped bruises go. He was half right about paregoric. I said it could help at both ends, with coughs and with the runs, but one had to be careful not to take too much as it could make one drowsy as it had opium in it..
George was listening and jigging up and down now, rubbing his injured thigh and not heeding his balls and pizzle also doing a merry dance. "Opium, I know," he declared, "That was why we had the war with China. Big trade in opium to China. My father had money in that and wasn't too pleased what with that and the sugar."
I didn't say what Lancelot had told me about opium dens and how men craved for it. He said he was also very careful prescribing laudanum as that was made from opium and he knew people who had a craving for that, too. He did say that old Doctor Barton had died because he had given himself too much laudanum to ease the pain from the growth in his stomach. Still, he did take over many of the old doctor's patients when he died.
"Anyway, my boy," George said, "When we ail we have our own doctor at hand." He clapped me on the back. "And he has ministered to my aches and I feel a benefit already."
"And perhaps he could cure you of the stink as well!" said Theo.
"Only hot water and good soap will do that," I said. George did smell although the liniment had masked some of the miasma and was preferable.
"I have plans for a bath tomorrow after the Chase. And you can bath, too, as you will stink more of boy than of horse with the running." I was clapped on the back again as George, now recovered, pulled on his shirt, under drawers and trousers. He sniffed. "That liniment makes me smell good."
I closed up my medicine box and put it in my chest again.
George was smiling now and sat at the desk but still flexed his leg. "I shall be fit to run tomorrow I am sure, not like that poor bugger Henderson."
"Henderson?" said Theo, "That other big oaf in Remove?"
"I thought they were all big oafs in Remove," I said quietly. George heard me and swatted my backside as I was still bent over tidying what was still in the chest.
"You are getting demmed cheeky for a Pup," he said, then went quiet. Why was that? Theo, however, laughed and said he agreed with me, but what about Henderson?
I straightened up and looked over at George. Something had rankled with him and he looked rather morose. "Henderson," he said without much emphasis, "The damn fool went to sleep near the end of class this morning so my cousin got on the floor quietly as Pullen was also dozing and undid his bootlaces and tied them to the desk leg. He then dropped his desk lid which woke Henderson and Pullen. Henderson tried to stand and fell and banged his head on his desk and Pullen started to beat him around the shoulders with his switch as he was still smarting from a gob full of shit and all hell broke lose. Poor old Bartleby kept calling for order and it wasn't until Usher Grant came in that things quietened. Henderson was yelling that he'd cracked his head and I just sat and watched." He shook his head. "I am in a shoal of fools."
"George, you are not a fool," Theo said, "We will have you out of that hellhole as soon as possible. But what happened to Henderson?"
"Usher Grant took him off and I heard he'd battered his knee as well. Henderson is just a poor fool." He shook his head sadly. "Jack and his pal Jopling just sat and laughed."
Just then a bell started clanging outside and there were running feet along our landing. Someone thumped our door. "Come on, there's a fire somewhere!"
To be continued