Date: Tue, 18 Oct 2011 15:14:27 +0000
From: Jo Vincent <joad130@hotmail.com>
Subject: Tom Browning's Schooldays Ch 19

			 Tom Browning's Schooldays

				    By

				   Joel

			     Chapter Nineteen


I slept like the dead.  The only thing I remember saying to Jabez as I
tugged my nightshirt over my head was that my poor arse was so sore having
ridden so far with a new saddle.

     It was close on eight thirty in the morning when I finally woke.  I
knew the time as a church clock somewhere not only chimed the hour but
sounded the quarters as well.  It helped me come to my senses as I groaned
and felt my bruised arsecheeks.  I heard a laugh.  It was Jabez.  I put my
arms out of the bed and received another great hug.

     I peered at him.  My, he had grown more and was arrayed in a fine suit
of dark grey livery with good grey britches and stockings as well.  I
remembered from my last visit this was the daytime wear of the footmen.
"Oh, Jabez," I said, "I forgot to tell you last night, your mother sends
her love."  I had seen Mrs Bottom on my way from the breakfast room and had
promised to deliver her message.  I grinned up at him.  "Should I give you
a big kiss from her as well?"

     He laughed.  "I would like that very much except you need a bath as
you stink."

     "Jabez," I said, putting on an air of haughtiness, "That is not the
way a valet should speak to his master."

     His response was what I wanted.  His arms were round me and our lips
met and our tongues duelled and I was back to those times when he had woken
me many times before Benjy had risen in our household.

     He gasped as we parted.  "You do need a bath," he said, "I will get
the boys to bring hot water.  There is a new bath in the closet but there
is only cold water at present."

     Mentioning water reminded me of a pressing need.  My bladder was full
and felt ready to burst.  I tumbled out of bed and rushed to the closet.  I
sat on the pan, pissed noisily, shat copiously, then wiped myself with good
soft paper and stood, reaching for the chain, which I pulled.  A torrent of
water descended and all was washed away.  I smiled.  We would be having
this luxury at Careby Hall quite soon if all went well.

     While I was taking care of those personal things Jabez had pulled on
the bell-rope and two youngsters had already appeared each with a pitcher
of hot water.  They made two more journeys before Jabez was satisfied there
was sufficient water in the bath for me to cleanse myself.  Ever the
faithful servant he donned a short apron and soaped my back as I wallowed
in the warmth.  Of course the warmth and the touch caused the usual
happening.  "My, we are a big boy now," he said and grasped my iron hard
stalk with a soapy hand and as on many occasions before I spurted under his
touch.  "That's more than a year ago, my bonny lad."
     "And you," I asked.

     "I think I've finished growing and it's always ready for action.  But
not now as these damned britches are too tight and have too many buttons."
He stood up and took off his apron.  Yes, I could see the outline quite
clearly and from his contortions as he placed it more centrally it must be
a mite inconvenient to be so large.  He grinned at me as I stood, still
half-hard but certainly not so large, and handed me a towel.

     "Let us change the subject," he said as I started to dry myself.  "It
will be easier on the boys..."  I wondered at his line of thought but it
was also made clear.  "...as the Master has plans for hot water here
upstairs.  Mr Nicholas has sent drawings for a fire with a steel barrel
behind which would get hot like in those steam engines and there would be a
pipe to each bath."  He laughed,.  "Master says he doesn't want one which
might explode like that one in a works near the river last summer."

     I wondered, too.  Our water at Careby Hall was heated in two big
coppers inside the laundryroom which provided most of the hot water for the
laundry as well as the household.  There was a smaller copper off the
kitchen which did duty for the cooks' needs and for the family if no one
was using other bedrooms.  What sort of contraption we would need to get
hot water to all the rooms I did not know. Last year I had stood by the
railway engine and marvelled at the steam it produced and watched as the
stoker shovelled coal into the furnace.  Uncle Wright had explained in his
study that the power had to be controlled carefully by valves and
governors.  I didn't understand what he meant but Robin had said when I
returned home that his father had a book which showed how Mr Watt's engines
worked.  But I had been too busy to look at it which I now regretted.

     I felt better after my bath.  The hot water had eased my aches
somewhat and I was now very hungry.  I had only a change of shirt and
underclothing in my saddle bag and would have to wait for my mother's
arrival to have clean britches or my long trousers and jacket.  I would try
to be as clean and tidy as possible and hoped Aunt Fanny would accept me as
I was.

     While I dressed I told Jabez a little about Timmy; how we had rescued
him from Black Jack who wanted him no more and how Jabez's mother had
accepted him so readily.  He smiled.  "I know I have had such happy letters
from her telling me about him.  I must try to visit Careby sometime."  He
looked very serious.  "It is difficult when one is in service as I am tied
to this household and unless your Aunt travels there and needs a manservant
as well as her maid I could be here years.  I doubt if your Uncle would
travel that far.  Sometime perhaps."  He grinned then.  "But I must show
you that last letter.  While Robin has been away his brother Philip has
written them for my mother.  He writes very neatly and there are always
little drawings such as a gateway, a tree, or a horse's head which he has
seen.  I have kept them all."  He reached into an inside pocket of his
tailcoat and drew out a folded page.  "But I know this last one was written
by that scoundrel Robin.  Look!"

     I took the page from him and unfolded it.  I sniggered.  The
inscription was 'My dear Japiz' and the tail of the letter zed was
lengthened and curled down with a substantial acorn drawn at it's end.

     "Drawn from life I would say," I said, "Though a mite exaggerated."

     I was not attacked.  He just laughed.  "We must see about that.  Now
hurry up or there will be no breakfast for you."

     I finished dressing quickly and Jabez preceded me down the two flights
of stairs saying he would arrange for my dirty garments to be washed.  He
led me to the breakfast room and left me at the door with a grin and a bow.
I went in and found my father was leisurely drinking tea and looking at a
newssheet.  "Sleep well?" he enquired, "Beds here are too damned
comfortable.  Didn't want to get up."  He pointed at the side dresser where
the tureens were being kept hot in their water baths by small spirit lamps.
"I wager you're hungry as usual.  Plenty in those dishes."

     I hadn't said a word as he hadn't stopped.  Now he had it was my turn.

     "Thank you, I slept very well and I had a bath in hot water and I am
very hungry."

     He laughed.  "And the jakes?"

     I grinned.  "That was comfort, too!"  I went over to the sideboard and
selected three good bacon slices, two eggs poached in water and two slices
of new white bread.  I listened as father continued.

     "I know, all that will be ours, too, once Steven Goodhew makes
progress with all his measuring and digging."  I must have looked puzzled.
"He says to take it all to the river it will need a good slope for the
pipes. I have said he can borrow three men from the farm to measure with
chains and rods.  Keep them busy as there is little to do other than
repairing fencing or clearing out barns.  If the ground is not too hard he
says the trenches can be prepared for the pipes which are to be ordered and
they can get on with the digging."

     "What about inside?" I asked, now sitting and ready to eat.

     "He will have the carpenters and two bricklayers for that, but Steven
will have to find out what lies behind the panelling and under the
floorboards.  There are some old drawings when the house was rebuilt but
there has been little done the last fifty years other than when the roof
leaks."

     "It will take time," I surmised.

     "And money."  Father took another drink from his large teacup.  "But
what is that for but to be spent."

     I set to and finished my platter of good food quickly just like the
starving boy I was.  Just as I finished Mr Tolliver, one of the senior
footmen, came in through the servants' door.  He smiled when he saw me. He
was a cheerful, seemingly elderly man to me, and Terence had said he had
been in service to the Wright family since a boy.  He bowed to father then
asked if he wanted more tea and filled the cup which was pointed at.  "Ah,
Tolliver, thank you.  Tell me how the Master is this morning," my father
asked as Mr Tolliver also filled a cup for me.

     I knew Uncle Wright was crippled from when he was in Government
Service in Florence some thirty or so years ago.  I understood it was after
he married Aunt Fanny but I was aware of little else.  He walked with
difficulty with two stout sticks, or was pushed from room to room on a
wheeled chair.  His bedroom was on the ground floor though there was a
contrivance of pulleys, like a dumb waiter, so he could be taken up to the
floor above where the main diningroom and ballroom were situated.  He
wasn't able to ride but did all his local visits in an elegant chaise but,
when accompanied by my Aunt or others, he had a very fine closed carriage
which, no doubt, would now be drawn by four of the greys.

     "The master is well except his leg pains him more now if he walks too
far.  I expect he will tell you more.  He is in his study and the ladies
also await you in the parlour."

     Oh, we would have to visit the ladies first.  That would be Aunt Fanny
and my eldest cousin Rosamund.  I remembered her well from when I was quite
young when Aunt Fanny and she would come from London and spend several
weeks with us after the London Season was finished.  She had all sorts of
amusing games for me to play and would read my favourite stories over and
over again.  I liked Rosamund very much.  Rosamund must be well over thirty
but had never married.  Terence said the right man had never come along
although she had been courted by a succession of young officers.  The
latest, so Terence informed us last New Year, was short, fat and loaded
with debt.  What he meant was that Aunt Fanny did not think him suitable.
That was Rosamund's fate.  If mother did not approve...

     Father laughed and said we would do our round of visits and then he
would see the horses.  Mr Tolliver smiled and said "As you prefer".  I
realised this could be taken two ways and as father stood he shook Mr
Tolliver's hand and said "As ever".

     We followed him along the wide corridor to the parlour door where we
were announced quite formally as 'Mr Samuel Browning and Master Thomas
Browning' and entered to find Aunt Fanny and Rosamund seated in two
armchairs either side of the roaring fire.

     "My dears, come in," Aunt Fanny said getting up and kissing first her
brother then me.  Rosamund was then kissed by father and I planted a chaste
kiss on her proffered cheek.  "I told you he had grown," she said to her
daughter, "He is taller than you, my dear, and must be almost as tall as
your Captain Hastings."

     Oh, so that was the name of her latest beau.  Terence always
maintained there must have been at least twenty since she had been
presented at Court.  My mother had slapped him with her fan and asked how
many maidens he had wooed and I had nearly said he'd told me he wasn't
interested.

     Rosamund smiled at me.  "Take no notice, Tom, all boys grow and I
suppose Captain Hastings must have been a boy sometime."

     I got the impression Rosamund was a little tired of Captain Hastings
and his attention.

     We sat on a chaise longue between the two armchairs and Aunt Fanny
asked him about the new horses and my mother, in that order.  I wondered if
she was concerned about the cost.  I had to answer questions then about
school and about Robin which caused laughter when I described the fateful
interview in Mr Ridley's study.  I said I was glad I had gone to school as
I was learning a lot..

     "And learning to speak his mind," my father said. "Never used to say a
word and now he even tells me I have my New Testament all wrong.  Our Robin
has a sharp tongue, too.  It'll be a mite quieter when the pair of them go
back.  I might even find a morsel to eat for breakfast."

     Aunt Fanny laughed.  "Sam, stop grumbling.  I remember you and poor
William used to fight after the last spoonful of everything and Mother had
to separate you more than once before the platters went flying."

     Father guffawed.  "Trust you, Fanny my dear, to blacken my character
but give them their due they're not a bad pair o' lads."  He shook his
head.  "Son and grandson.  Makes me feel old what with the others, too."

     Talk got on to my sisters and their offspring and the impending birth
of another due in February I heard.  As they rambled on I think Aunt Fanny
realised I was getting restless.  One reason was that the effects of the
hot bath were wearing off and my arse was still sore from that unforgiving
saddle.  She held a finger up.

     "Tom, why not go and see Uncle Digby.  He'll want to hear about what
you've done."

     Rosamund screwed her nose up at me and smiled as I said a little
farewell.  I would talk to her later but I wanted to see Uncle Digby, or at
least first, make sure that Curly was still there.

     I walked along the corridor gazing at all the paintings of Florence,
Venice and Rome and thought that one day I would like to visit those places
as long as I didn't get shot at like Uncle Digby had been.  I tapped at the
study door.  He must have been expecting me as he immediately called out
"Come in, Tom".

     He was sitting in his Bath chair behind a desk covered in books and
papers, almost more than in Uncle Dodd's study.  He beckoned me in.  He
smiled and indicated a chair by his side.

     "You will have to sit close as I am getting increasing deaf," he said.

     As I walked over to the chair I spotted Curly in the alcove where he
always stood now in the new house.  But I had to talk to Uncle Digby first.

     Again I had to tell my tale of school life.  I said how Robin had
played the jape at George Lascelles' instigation and he was now offered a
place.  Uncle Digby nodded.

     "You realise that was a plan, don't you?" he said with a grin, "Your
Aunts decided it was time to set everything straight.  Even Torquil was
kept from interfering but he will be visiting Careby before you both return
to Ashbourne."

     I said we had guessed it was a conspiracy and he laughed.  "And the
other boys are accepting of Robin?"

     I said my friends were both amused and accepting and only one I knew
of in the House had been averse but he had been told bluntly by his
roommate that he should accept people as they are.  Uncle Digby nodded at
this.

     "I have noted that through my life and I agree.  I wish you both well
and I may have some small things for you to share."  He shuffled some
papers away from the front of his desk.  Under were some quarto books.  "I
have bought an interest in an old stationer's shop which we have reopened
and these are copies of various Greek and Roman authors.  There's a good
dozen or so here and over there..." He indicated another desk also laden
with books and papers. "...They will be more useful to you and Robin than
to me."

     I picked up one. It was a handsome edition of the Metamorphoses of
Ovid and many pages were still uncut.  I thanked him profusely but he waved
my protestations away.

     "There are many more good things there.  You must visit before all are
sold as the vultures from the Colleges here are hovering."

     I said one of my friends was named Bayes and his father was a
professor in the one in Gower Street.

     "Bayes, eh?  I warrant a relation was a very clever mathematician.
Long time back but it is an unusual name."

     I said that was what I had been told and I hoped to visit him while
here.  We talked on and I learned that my brothers were being garrisoned
near the Palace and both Terence and Torquil would be present at a Ball
which Aunt Fanny was holding on New Year's Day.  I was invited, too!  He
saw the look of consternation on my face.  I had no evening clothes and for
one of Aunt Fanny's Balls I could not attend in even my best suit.

     "I wager you are thinking of clothes," he said with another of his
knowing grins, "Do not worry you are being taken to a tailor this afternoon
and you will be fitted out like royalty I'm sure.  Another of your Aunt's
plans."

     Oh dear.  I would be costing father more.  It was then I saw a
familiar map on an easel.  There were three maps side by side and I saw the
middle one had Careby Magna marked almost in the centre.  Uncle Digby saw
me staring at it.

     "Ah, you have seen my maps.  That is a new venture, too.  You went on
that railway last year, didn't you."  I nodded.  "I have joined in a
company with others to build a railway between Grantham and Peterborough
and it will join with other tracks North, to the East and South we are
sure."

     I noted a line was drawn close to the river by Careby Hall and seemed
to go through the village itself.  I put my finger out to trace the line
just there.  He wheeled his chair nearer.

     "Yes, we have been lucky in that the land there is level and your old
Squire has sold us the land to put in the tracks."  He must mean old Squire
Matthews.  He owned all the land that side of the river and it was there we
had hunted.  I noted that further North the line was dotted.  I traced that
up and toward the village of Creeton where just before the line was drawn
fully again.  He saw I stopped my finger on the dotted part.  "That is a
great problem," he said, "We have options to buy on all the land to the
North except for that length of about a mile or so.  We have made searches
and we cannot find who owns that land.  We have clerks scratching around in
all the places the records may be." He laughed.  "We have offered a good
reward for the finder.  I think it is twenty guineas but as time goes on I
think we shall have to add another ten."  Thirty guineas!

     "Thirty guineas, Uncle, that is a fair amount of money."

     He laughed again.  "But worth it as long as any owner doesn't realise
and put his land price up."

     "Thirty guineas just to know who owns the land?" I enquired.

     "Of course.  First one with news would get it."

     I'm afraid I laughed and he looked at me in astonishment as I said "I
claim the reward.  I know who owns the land and I know where the documents
are!"

     "Tom, what do you mean?  We have looked for nigh on three or more
years and nothing.  Who?  And where?"

     I held a hand out which he slapped.

     "Tell me!"

     I explained that Father had bought Cobblers Farm which stretched along
to the road shown and that there was a parcel of land added which was on
the deeds which had not been known about.  That would be the land crossed
by the proposed railway.

     He let out a guffaw.  "Thirty guineas are yours, Tom, if that is true.
In fact, I would willingly make it fifty.  Where's your father?"

     "I'm here," a voice said from the doorway, "Is he annoying you?  Is
that why you asked?"  Father knew that was unlikely so I pretended and
cowered behind the easel.

     Uncle Digby was laughing.  "You old rogue!  I knew you were after more
land but never imagined it would include the piece we are looking for."

     My father was looking puzzled so I emerged from behind the easel and
pointed at the dotted line.  "Uncle Digby wishes to buy an acre or so just
here for the railway and is willing to offer you fifty thousand guineas for
it."

     Uncle Digby slapped my backside this time.  "Fool, boy!  The whole
venture will not be that!"

     Father now realised what the line meant as he knew Uncle Digby was
venturing into railway stock.  "Fifty thousand guineas?  That piece of land
is worth twice that.  The view to the river is so idyllic where it turns
there."  Even I knew that those amounts of money were fortunes.  Both men
were laughing now.  Then father was serious.  "Matthews has told me he's
been approached to sell a stretch he owns.  Is that true?"  Uncle Digby
nodded.  "Well that piece of land lies fallow and is poor as most is in the
bow of the river.  I have it in less than a year if no claimant comes
forward which I doubt.  An arrangement, Digby?"

     The two men shook hands and I knew a deal had been struck.  My fifty
guineas, though?

     "Young Tom will profit, too," Uncle Digby said.  My father did not
know the reward which I had claimed.  "He has stung me for fifty guineas
for information I might have gathered free at the dinner table."  He smiled
at me.  "At least my directors will be pleased to pay up."

     Father just burst out laughing again.  "That boy has more guile than a
gimcrack seller.  I warrant he cozened you into that with promises worthy
of a ragged-arsed lawyer from Lincoln's Inn."

     "Father," I said, "That is not true."  I pouted.  "I have earned
myself more than enough not to be a burden on your purse over my evening
clothes."

     My father roared.  "Evening clothes!  I had no evening clothes until I
was well past twenty!  What are boys coming to?"  He just grinned at me.
"Your Aunt has plans for this afternoon I hear.  Whatever your Uncle is
paying you is yours."

     Uncle Digby was shaking his head in amusement.  "Come, Sam, let us go
and tell Fanny the news.  I have bored her for too long with my grumbles
about the missing land.  And I need a dish of tea."  He pointed at the
loaded bookshelves.  "Find anything you like, Tom, and take it.  I have too
many books and no room for new ones."

     Father pushed the wheeled chair and they went off in high humour.  I
was left and now I could make my acquaintance with Curly once more.

     On my first visit to London Uncle and Aunt Wright lived in a smaller
house in Bruton Place quite near but were planning to have this larger
house built.  I liked that first visit as London was so different from the
village we lived in.  My brother Terence had leave from the Regiment and
took me in charge and I was shown all sorts of wonders as we wandered the
streets or clattered along in a one horse chaise as we ventured further.
But it was the treasure trove of things which my Uncle had collected during
his time in the various cities and states of Italy which fascinated me.
Colourful boxes with secret openings, picture books of marvellous old
buildings, marble heads of old emperors, strange clocks, cabinets of medals
and coins and Curly.  This was the name Terence told me was that of the
statue which stood beside the window. He said it was his name because of
his beautifully carved curled hair on his head.  The statue was more than
full-sized of a youth with outstretched arms which Uncle Wright had had
copied from the original Greek statue now in Rome.  It was about Curly that
Terence lied to me.  I had noted that although Curly was a good six foot in
height his pizzle was no more than mine and I was just over seven.  As we
stood looking at him Terence whispered that if I wanted to make Curly smile
I should carefully stroke his pizzle but not now as Aunt Fanny was at the
door telling one of the footmen to order the carriage as she was going out.

     Many times after that and on every visit I had carefully stroked that
stony object and Curly had never smiled.  When I had complained to Terence
all he would say was perhaps I was not stroking it correctly but I would
have to practice and one day I would find the secret of the smile.

     I learned the secret of the smile when I was thirteen and six months
or so after the Harvest Festival that year when, with instruction from
Jabez, I shed my seed for the first time.  Terence was home that Christmas
on leave and must have guessed about my discovery.  He ruffled my hair.
"Have you found Curly's secret yet?"  I must have reddened as the action of
what I had been doing to Curly now brought more than a smile to me.  He
more or less lifted me up in a hug.  He whispered in my ear.  "All boys
smile don't they!"

     That was so true then as I had witnessed with dear Robin and with
Jabez in our many times together after that fateful day.  Since, I had
noted the smile with others, too.  My blacksmith friends and Benjy and
several other of the village boys.  All boys grimace and then smile!

     Today I went over to Curly and with practised fingers now and with a
smile on my face I carefully ringed that tiny stalk and promised that one
day, perhaps, like Pygmalion's statue of a woman, he would spring to life
and enjoy the many moments he had missed.  I whispered that I had smiled on
so many occasions but now had to stop my ministrations to poor Curly as my
own pizzle was as hard as his and needed relief.  Of course, Uncle Wright
had a jakes in the small room off his study.  I was in there in a trice
and, lest I spurted and missed the pan, took a handful of the soft paper
and caught my seed and flushed it away with a smile and a sigh of relief.

     I found several books which would interest both myself and Robin.  Two
were histories and another a picture book of engravings of famous places in
England.  I put on one side two books by James Boswell as they were very
finely bound and might be too valuable but I would ask.  One was of a
journey to the Hebrides and the other was a life of Dr Johnson.  My mother
had that second book but it was well-worn.  I had already read Robinson
Crusoe but put that in the pile as I thought Robin's brothers would like
it.  I found another copy and put that one aside for Benjy.  With plays by
Mr Sheridan and poems by John Keats I soon had a stack of about twenty or
so books.  My depredations made little mark on the numbers in the
bookshelves or piled on tables or on the floor.  Many were in Italian but I
did pick out a volume of La Fontaine's 'Fables' in French which I thought
might help my vocabulary.

     In my search for books I had noticed one entitled 'Pigot and Co's
Directory of London and its Suburbs' in a prominent place on the main
bookcase.  Black Jack Lascelles had been taken to his father's house.  I
hoped it would be far away.  I thumbed through the pages and there on page
247 between a cooper and a butcher was 'Lascelles, Hon. Philip J.  M.P.  15
St James's st'.  I wondered where that was but closed the book and returned
it to it's place on the shelf.  I went on and added several more
interesting books to my collection including an illustrated volume of some
of Shakespeare's plays.

     Uncle Wright just laughed when he saw the piles and said I had better
have another look as he was certain I could do better than that.  Father
said he hoped I would leave room in the coach for my Mother and Marie.  I
said they were bringing two flasks of leeches for Lancelot's doctor friends
and my books would take their place quite comfortably.  Father just sneered
and said I had better come with him to the stable to check on the horses
and Natty.  Mr Topping, the next footman in order to Mr Tolliver, was
called and pushed Uncle Wright as he wanted to inspect his new
acquisitions.

     I must say Natty had done a good job that morning.  The six had been
sponged down and lightly curry-combed and their hooves were shiny with oil.
All looked well-rested and their eyes were bright.  Father patted Natty on
the back and a coin was dropped into a hand.  Uncle Wright was well-pleased
and Mr Churcher said he hadn't seen such a fine set before.  I didn't think
he was just saying that as Father was there as I knew he prided himself on
a good show of horseflesh whether for riding or for drawing a chaise or a
coach.  Blaze was a little restless but I stroked his muzzle and Natty said
he would ride him out if one of the stablelads would accompany him.  I knew
I would be too busy myself unless I could escape from all the social
meetings.

     Natty was also well-pleased with his room.  He was sharing with
another stablelad of about his age and he said Jabez had already been to
see he was well-settled.  A space had been cleared for when our coach
arrived and four stalls had been borrowed from the mews next door.  Uncle
Wright explained that the retired naval Captain who lived in the house
rarely went out except to his Club and had only a small closed carriage and
a pair to draw it.  He was quite willing to lend the stalls as he often
came to dinner to make up numbers if there was a widow or elderly maiden
lady invited as his own wife had died some years ago.

     Jabez helped me carry that first pile of books up to my room.  It was
then I also met his new friend who was another junior footman.  He was
short, looked quite plump and named Mehmet.  I found that because of Uncle
Wright's injuries he was often in pain and his leg and back stiffened and
the best thing his physician had suggested for him was frequent massage.
For some years he had been driven to a local Turkish Bath which Jabez said
he had bought as Mehmet's father, who was employed there, was the best
Turkish masseur in London.  Jabez had found out that the father had been
teaching Mehmet the art of good massage and he had mentioned this to Uncle
Wright who had then employed him as his own personal masseur.  This meant
he didn't have the awkward ride across cobbled streets but could have a
daily massage if needed.  One of Jabez's tasks was to go with Mehmet to the
Baths to collect the rather valuable oils which were used.

     Of course, I complained of my sore arse from riding.  Jabez must have
told Uncle Wright because at lunch Uncle said I should have a massage as
soon as I returned from the tailor's.  This set my Father off in hoots of
laughter saying a good few cuts with a riding crop across my backside would
soon cure any stiffness.  Aunt Fanny said he was cruel to his poor son and
I deserved better treatment as good sons who would willingly ride such
distances to help their father to line his pockets more by not paying
proper drovers were few and far between.  This only made Father laugh more.
"I have often wondered where the boy inherited his sharp tongue.  I know
now it is from the female side of the family.  It left me and dropped to
him."

     "Your tongue is as sharp as you want it," Aunt Fanny said, "You and
your brother William have had many a duel of words and I remember father
giving you a good few cuts for making him cry when he was young.  Mr
Pelling at the Grammar School said you would make a good parliament man as
you always had an answer for everything especially when you were in the
wrong."

     I was laughing almost openly now as I could see that Aunt Fanny was
playing with my father and there was no rancour with it.

     "And you, dear sister...," he said looking up to the ceiling, "...kept
poor old Lady Bates in order with admonitions not to venture out lest she
be attacked by brigands so that you could meet your young beau in those
gardens you have suggested should be copied by my dear wife."

     Uncle Wright was laughing.  "That is so true.  We courted almost daily
in the Boboli Gardens...."

     Aunt Fanny put on a hurt look.  "...Digby, you should support me and
it is not those gardens but the formal ones at Villandry in France I have
suggested."

     "Leaving out the gardens I am correct that you did rule poor Lady
Bates?"  Father persisted.

     "Lady Bates needed a strong hand.  She was too indulgent to all the
entreaties from those two nephews of hers and if I had not found out the
schemes of that steward she would have lost more of her fortune."

     This was quite new to me.  I knew Aunt Fanny had gone as a companion
to an old lady whose husband had died and then had been advised by her
physician to live in a warmer place as she was plagued with a weak chest.
Aunt Fanny was eighteen when she had gone to Florence with Lady Bates and
had been a faithful chatelaine for some four years before meeting Uncle
Digby who was on Government business in the Papal and other states of
Italy.  I knew they had married as soon as Lady Bates had died and she had
left Aunt Fanny a sizeable inheritance which had annoyed her nephews who
had then conveniently died of a fever within the year and their portions
came to her as well.  Their daughter Rosamund, whose second name was
Florence, was born in that city and soon after her birth Uncle Digby had
been ambushed and shot more than once.  He had been hit in the pelvis and
the leg and left to die but his assistant, Mr Tuckwell, had staunched his
wounds and found a surgeon who had done his best to save the broken bones.
He was left a cripple and had been awarded a good pension for the work he
had done and the couple had settled back in England in London.

     My brother Terence had recounted all this one evening when he had had
three or four extra glasses of wine and I was sitting with him when the
others had gone to bed.  He had also said he was sure Uncle Digby still had
a finger in the secret workings of the Government.  He also suspected that
Mr Tuckwell was still a government agent and he wondered about three of the
under-footmen as well, Topping, Pembridge and Purrett.

     I was inquisitive.  I asked.  "What was the steward doing?"

     Aunt Fanny was not put out by my question.  "That creature was
cheating Lady Caroline in all ways.  He said the rent for the palazzo was
more than the Principessa had asked and we did not question that as
compared with a residence here it seemed a fair amount. By a curious
accident I found his false accounts for the household where he had forged
bills from the tradespeople.  He had even been cheating our cook, Signor
Bartoli's father, and all the servants were not being paid their correct
wage." She held up a finger.  "My father constantly said that some servants
could not be trusted and one should always make sideways enquiries.  Signor
Gasperelli was sick one week so I took control of the household.  I had
learned quite good Italian and questioned the man who delivered our
provisions who presented me with an account which was much less than any
previous.  It was the same the second week and then the steward returned
and the accounts were high again.  I told her ladyship who, though old and
frail, was not to be bested in such a way, even though my dear brother says
the poor soul was under my thumb."  I thought my fiery Aunt was about to
make a long nose at Father but she did make a fist with a thumb quite near
her nose.  "The steward confessed all and was before the magistrate and
that was the last we saw or heard of him."

     "You did well, sister dear," my father said, "And her ladyship was
more than grateful."  He wrinkled his nose at her.

     "That is true, but Digby had to rest and be healed and that took time
and money and if we don't finish here soon poor Tom will not be clothed as
the young gentleman he is."

     Father harumphed and drew out his long purse and tossed a shilling
piece on the table.  "If it's more than that send the account to the
thieving steward!"

     "You are an old skinflint," Aunt Fanny said, "Father always said your
britches pockets were always sewn up so you had no way of buying the next
jar of ale."

     "That's not what I heard..." Uncle Wright began and then stopped.  I
guessed why.  Isaac Barker said Zeb had had his pockets sewn so he could
not fiddle with his dick and lead himself from the path of righteousness.
Jacob had said as Isaac rarely wore britches he was well on the road to
damnation as for every stroke of the hammer on the anvil he matched it
later with a stroke of his little pizzle.

     Platters were now clean and before any more revelations or discussion
Aunt Fanny rang her bell and Jabez and Mehmet appeared and began to clear
away.

     I was ushered out by Aunt Fanny who said I was not to worry about
expense.  We were visiting a tailor first and she had already sent on the
measurements Mr Corsham our tailor had taken of me which my mother had sent
her with her Christmas greetings.

     A small carriage was ready and waiting as Aunt Fanny and I, with Jabez
and Aunt Fanny's younger maid as our escorts, left the main door of the
house.  I felt very grand to be driven around in such style.  Our first
destination was in Piccadilly where Jabez and I were left at the tailor's
with strict instructions to wait inside and not venture out until the coach
returned.

     It was all efficiency.  A suit of tails and black britches as well as
black trousers had been cut already and sewn.  The tailor explained that
they kept a range of almost ready prepared garments and they prided
themselves that if seen by the afternoon the suit would be ready the next
morning.  I did not dare enquire the price but from the attention I was
given I could but guess that Uncle Wright's name and status were
well-known.  Two pairs of fine white stockings were parcelled and given to
Jabez who seemed used to the diligence of the assistants.  There was a
second larger parcel which he whispered were stockings and cravats for
himself and the other footmen ready for Aunt Fanny's New Year's Ball.  He
also whispered he had also been fitted for a new livery as well but there
would be further revelations at the Ball.

     That over we waited on chairs placed near the door, at least I sat and
Jabez stood by my side.  I was fascinated by the crowds passing up and down
the wide street looking at shop windows laden with goods.  Several people
came in for fitting or for collection of clothes.  There were garments
other than suits and I asked a young man where I could purchase running
clothes.  He smiled and said there was a shop further on with sporting
apparel and Jabez nodded and said he had passed it while running errands
and we could visit there after New Year's Day.

     Jabez saw the carriage draw up and carried the parcels and placed them
in a locked box fixed to the back of the vehicle.  He explained it had to
be locked as quick hands could thieve when the carriage was weaving it's
way slowly through the crowded streets.  They were certainly crowded and
also smelled of horseshit and even viler aromas.  On almost each corner
were youngsters with besoms vainly clearing a way across the road so
walkers should not soil their footwear overly.  Footwear.  That was the
next stop.

     I had never seen so many pairs of all manner of shoes, boots, slippers
and those high shiny boots named after the great victor Wellington.  Aunt
Fanny came into this shop with me and was soon pointing to some stout
boots, shiny evening wear and some more fancy light shoes.  She wanted two
pairs of each as she said if they fitted me they would also fit Robin and
she had had her instructions.  True.  We had swopped boots and worn each
other's shoes constantly.  We had slept together so much over the years it
didn't matter which nearest pair were ready polished for the day they were
chosen by whoever wanted them.  I wondered if our feet were exactly the
same size as there was a slight advantage to Robin in another vital part.
He would be wrestled down and careful inspection made.  Of all parts!

     Aunt Fanny was not yet finished.  The third shop was quite huge.  The
rooms seemed to stretch away with piles of boxes and cabinets showing off
all manner of clothing.  I was ushered along to where boys were catered
for.  A flurry of shirts, undervests, cravats and nether garments were
displayed and held against me with Aunt Fanny nodding whenever she was
satisfied they might fit or were suitable.  I was rather embarrassed as she
decided I should have both tight and more loose undergarments and I noticed
that her maid, young Doria, turned her head away while they were held up
for inspection.  I should not have worried as there were several ladies
with boys of various ages and sizes and all were being harried and looking
glum or stern-faced as mothers or aunts decided what would be theirs to
wear.  One boy of my age saw me looking and we exchanged a nod of quiet
comradeship.

     All the purchases were swiftly parcelled and two boys were deputed to
carry the mounds to the carriage where Jabez locked them safely away.

     Aunt Fanny was in a good mood.  "It is much easier choosing and buying
for boys.  I have spent hours with Rosamund while she decides whether she
would have six buttons or eight buttons on her blouse or which shade of
blue her skirt should be and do not mention hats!"

     I had no idea how much all these purchases had cost and what my father
would say when presented with the accounts.  Other than the evening suit
there were two, or four of everything else, as Robin was being fitted out
to match his uncle!

     Home at last to the house in Charles Street.  All the parcels were
carried up to my room by Jabez and the Turkish lad, Mehmet. As it was close
on four o'clock there was tea and small cakes laid out in the downstairs
parlour.  Uncle Digby was already there reading some documents from a
portfolio case which he closed and tied shut and then handed it to Topping
who was standing attentively by his wheeled chair.  I heard a quiet
instruction that the case should be placed back in the safe.  I was hungry
after my excursion and Uncle Digby asked if I liked going into shops as he
always preferred the tradespeople to bring their goods to the house.  I
said I thought you might have a greater choice from the amount of goods of
all kinds I had seen.  He nodded and said that was probably true but he
always knew exactly what he wanted and had not changed his wants for twenty
years.  Aunt Fanny snorted and said that even gentlemen's fashions changed
and half of his wardrobe probably went back to Prinny's days.  I knew that
meant the Prince Regent who had become George the Fourth and was generally
talked about in hushed tones except when George Lascelles had been called
'Prinny' one evening.  Branscombe had laughingly said he wondered if his
prick would be as active as the other's but it would be of no use if he got
as fat.

     As soon as I had had my fill Uncle said I should have the massage I
had been promised.  He grinned at me as he said it and nodded at Topping
who pulled the bell-rope.  Both Jabez and Mehmet came to the door and I was
escorted up to my room.  I was instructed by Jabez to unclothe myself
completely and lie on the towels which were placed on the bed.  Mehmet
smiled and nodded when I looked at him.  "It is better for you and for me
also," he said in a most cultured voice and flexed his fingers which looked
long and strong.  As I took my clothes off so Mehmet did also until he was
finally in only a pair of yellow tightly-fitting long-legged drawers.

     I lay on my stomach as instructed and felt warm oil being poured on my
shoulders.  Gently, at first, then more forcefully, my back muscles were
kneaded and I felt the stiffness almost melt away.  My upper arms were next
and I relaxed.  More oil was poured lower down and my lower back and
buttocks were smoothed with it first.  His strong fingers then probed every
muscle I knew I had and many I wasn't aware of.  Gradually he worked down
over my so sore arsecheeks and even though his fingers dug deeply into my
flesh I was almost purring with pleasure.  My thighs were next and then my
calves and even the soles of my feet and I was more and more aware that I
had reacted in one particular way.  I had to wriggle myself to be more
comfortable on the towel as without any prompting my pizzle was now at full
stretch.

     Both Jabez and Mehmet must have known what would happen.  Jabez bent
down.  "It happens to all," he said quietly, "I have a massage most days
for Mehmet to try his skills and it is always the same."

     I was not concerned about Jabez seeing me like I was.  Only this
morning he had gauged my new growth over the past year.  What about Mehmet?

     "You must lie on your back now and put your arms up above you head."
I couldn't argue as two pairs of strong hands turned me over with my
flagstaff in full view.  Jabez said something to Mehmet in a language I did
not understand.  They both laughed as Mehmet replied.

     "I must apologise, Tom," Jabez said, "Mehmet has been teaching me a
little of his Turkish language. I just said 'big boy' and he agreed.  Is
that not so, Mehmet?"

     "I would agree," he said as he poured a little oil onto my chest, "I
hope you are not offended, sir, when I say you have more than myself and my
brother.  He is your age I think and though strong is short in his arm."

     Jabez laughed.  "I think he has said it from his language."  He
grinned down at me.  "Mehmet, the word in English is 'prick', 'cock' or
'pizzle'.  There is also 'peg' or 'pistol', or even 'rod' or 'rammer'.
Take your pick but do not say any of those to your father and certainly not
to the Master."

     Trust Jabez to know all those names.  Mehmet laughed.  "I will try to
remember all but is there no name I can use?"

     I laughed remembering what Lancelot had told me.  "My cousin who is a
physician says that when he was a student his tutor said he should refer to
the patient's 'young gentleman' if he had cause to examine him there."

     Mehmet laughed.  "Thank you.  I think that is more polite but it is
boys like Jabez who have a pistol I would say."

     We all laughed at that and Jabez said Mehmet was accusing him of not
being a gentleman.  "I can tell you, Jabez my friend, you have much more
than any gentleman I have seen."  Jabez grinned at him and pointed to the
oil flask.

     Mehmet poured a little on his hands and I closed my eyes as his hands
and fingers much more gently massaged my chest and arms.  As he was
kneading my stomach he said I had solid muscles there and no fatness which
was good.  I opened my eyes then and looked at him bending over me.  What I
had taken to be plumpness under his clothing was now revealed as muscle.
My blacksmith friends had muscles to be proud of but Mehmet's were massive.
The tops of his arms curved mightily and his chest swelled as he breathed
in and out.

     Jabez must have seen me looking.  "I wager Isaac Barker is not as
muscled as Mehmet and they are both eighteen.  Is that not so?"

     Mehmet stood up straight and flexed his right arm.  The thick muscle
seemed twice the size of Isaac's.

     "They are at the forge all day and have been since they were twelve or
so but they do not measure up to Mehmet's arm or the breadth of his chest,"
I said wondering at the size.

     Jabez smiled.  "There is no secret.  At the baths he has special heavy
weights and blocks to lift and try his strength against.  He has smaller
ones in our room and I have used them, too.  Perhaps he will show them to
you.  Even better, we may be allowed to take you to the Baths when we go
for more oil."

     Mehmet held up the flask.  "I have only one other and I think Mr
Browning will want a massage, too."

     I grinned inwardly.  I couldn't imagine my father lying on a towel in
a naked state.  Even more, I had never witnessed his 'young gentleman' but
perhaps he would be permitted to keep his nether garment on.

     Jabez must have read my thoughts.  "Worry not, Tom, it is only boys
and young men who appear naked like you." He grinned.  "Most of the older
men who go to the Baths are..."  The actions of his hands needed no mention
of 'fat'.

     Mehmet by now was massaging my thighs and had left me feeling so
relaxed but still with a rod of iron.  As he finished he said I should
stand and then he wiped me all over with a soft towel to remove most of the
oil.  "The oil that is left will be good for your skin.  I hope you find it
smells pleasant as well.  This is a favourite oil.  I think you call it
jasmine and it does not smell too powerful."

     I thanked him and said I was no longer saddle-sore.  Jabez nodded at
me and I knew I should reward Mehmet with a coin.  I was confused.  What
would be suitable?  Jabez was a step ahead.  He saw my purse on the
dressing-table and held up a shilling piece.  "I think Mehmet would be
happy to have a present such as this which will last for the other days you
are here."

     "And if we go to the Baths I will show you how I have to work to make
these."  He flexed his arm and thrust his shoulders up and then bent his
leg and his thighs swelled.  My eyes were drawn to the front of his tight
drawers.  Yes, at eighteen I would say he was not even as well-formed as me
when soft.  "You will have to work, too, and I will lend you small blocks
and clubs like Jabez has."  And would I have to wear tight drawers?

     "I would like that," I said and wondered if my rod or rammer would
stay quiet if I was to be clad as Mehmet.

     I dressed again and Mehmet wiped oil off himself and put his shirt and
livery back on.  He said I should rest a while and let my muscles get used
to the massage.  I knew what he meant.  Although the fire had gone out of
my arsecheeks I was feeling stretched all over.  It wasn't uncomfortable
but I felt slightly tender.  Jabez said I should sit and he would bring me
up some hot cordial.  He and Mehmet left my bedroom and I sat and thought
about my day so far.  New clothes in profusion, a veritable library of
books but here was a nag.  I realised I was just a little afraid.  Afraid
of, perhaps, meeting that vile creature Black Jack again.  I don't know why
I had that feeling.  London was a big place with many streets and houses.
He might be miles away but..  I would have to find out where St James's
Street was.

     Jabez soon came back and handed me a decorated mug of a tasty brew.
"Your mother should be here sometime after seven o'clock," he announced,
"And your Aunt says that dinner will be later than usual and if you are
hungry to see if Signor Bartoli has something in his pantry."

     Again Terence had told me a little of the history of this household.
I knew Signor Bartoli had been an undercook in the residence in Florence as
a boy and young man.  He had come with Aunt and Uncle to London and had
married Aunt Fanny's original maid who, like most Italian girls, was called
Maria.  They had several sons and daughters, two of whom were Aunt's maids
and two of the boys were assistants to their father in the kitchen.  I knew
that Signora Bartoli had been set up in a shop which sold Italian foods and
wines and their eldest son had opened a small trattoria, as it was called,
next to the shop.  Terence had taken me there and we had supped on a
platter of fine thin ham with some other sliced meats which were spicy and
peppery.  I hoped I might visit there again!  I also knew Aunt Fanny's
dinner parties were always acclaimed by her friends for the fine cooking
and the variety of the offerings.  I expect we would have a fine dinner on
New Year's Day and this would be an opportunity to investigate!

     Jabez also sat and I recounted again, now for his benefit, all the
adventures at school.  He got quite angry when I told him young Timmy had
been beaten by Black Jack Lascelles.  "My mother writes that he is such a
gentle lad.  I am so glad he is away from such a monster."

     I said about Black Jack's end at the school without saying what I had
heard him say to George.  I explained the two cousins were so different.  I
then said I had found out the address where I assumed Black Jack had been
taken.  As soon as I mentioned St James's Street Jabez nodded.

     "I know where that is.  It is at the end of Jermyn Street where the
Baths are.  I have walked down it several times as I like to explore and
see the fine houses in the streets around.  I will go that way when Mehmet
and I have to fetch more oil which will probably be tomorrow."  He saw my
look of disappointment.  "Worry not, I will have to go again on Wednesday
without a doubt and you can ask if you might accompany us."

     I dozed a bit when he left me having shown me how the gaslamps worked
but warned me not to touch them if he was not present.  He had to go to get
changed into his evening livery and would be waiting at table with Mehmet
and the rest of the footmen.  As I sat with eyes closed I wondered how much
exercise it must take to be like Mehmet.  The image of those tight yellow
drawers also affected me but I resolved I would wait as Jabez would be
sleeping in my room, or better, keeping me warm and snug in my bed.

     I hadn't realised that time had flown.  I hadn't been to see the
kitchen when Jabez was back in full finery of green and gold tailcoat over
good white buckskin britches and white stockings. His shiny black shoes had
silver buckles.  He did look a fine fellow.  And here was I in no more than
a clean shirt and riding britches!

     "We hope the coach will be soon here.  Your brother sent a trooper to
watch for it and he has ridden back saying they are making good progress
but some fool has overturned a wagon on the hill."  I said I felt a wretch
in my poor clothing.  "No matter," he said laughing, "Your father is the
same and he could do with a patch on his britches.  Come on down as you
are, your mother will still love you!"

     I was tempted to have a tussle but he was too well-dressed for that.
I did let him comb through my hair but would not let him plait it like a
horse's mane, or put into a pigtail like a sailor, as he suggested.  He
said if I let it grow any longer I would have to get it dressed like a lady
with it wreathed in coils over the top of my head and a great pin to keep
it steady.  I said the great pin would be jabbed straight up his arse to
cure his cheekiness.

     We chuckled together as we went downstairs and he announced me at the
parlour door.  Uncle Wright and my father had glasses of sherry sack in
their hands.  "Good evening, Tom," my Uncle said, raising his glass, "A
little of this to keep the cold out?"

     My father snorted.  "If you teach him to drink you cannot imagine what
it will cost me once he gets back home.  I shall have to have iron bars put
over the cellar door and good padlocks on all the sideboards.  Expense,
expense, expense!"  He shook his head and emptied his glass.  "Jabez, I
need another and give that child of mine half a drachm if his Uncle
insists."

     "Sir, I have helped his cousin mix his potions and I think that would
be too much.  Ten minims at the most I would suggest."

     I glared at Jabez as my father nodded.  "I will leave you in charge,
Jabez, as you have been for half his lifetime!"

     Father knew we had been good friends for many years and that
friendship would soon evaporate if my glass was not filled promptly.  Jabez
filled my father's first then made a show of counting as mine was filled,
too, 'One, two, three...' all the way to 'ten'.

     "Although I'm pleased," I said as Jabez handed me the glass with an
uplifted nose, "I think my cousin might be worried if this was a dose of
that sulphuric ether he keeps locked away but I accept it as my Uncle's
best sherry sack!"

     My father snorted again.  "An answer for everything!"

     We had drained our glasses when Mr Topping came to the door.  "Sirs,
the coach is here," he announced and took Uncle's empty glass and wheeled
him out.  We followed him and he and Jabez lined up with Mr Tuckwell, the
butler, and the other four footmen all arrayed in their so-smart liveries.
My Aunt and Rosamund appeared just as the front door was thrust open and my
mother entered followed by Marie.  In her gloved hands she was carrying a
rather familiar object.  It was one of Lancelot's jars filled with water
and leeches.  Mr Tuckwell's face was a picture as she handed it to him.

     "Sorry, Mr Tuckwell, but it nearly fell over when the coach hit the
cobbles!" my mother said.

     Uncle Digby was pushed forward.  "Louisa, you are so welcome.  I need
a kiss!"

     Aunt Fanny was next, followed by Rosamund, and each was bussed on the
cheek.

     "I suppose I get a turn," my father said but thrust me forward,
"Better him first before he falls over drunk!"

     Mother eyed me and I shook my head a smidgen.  She knew.

     "Your father being kind to you, eh?"

     I nodded. "As usual," I said and I kissed her cheek.

     After father's contribution to the welcome Aunt Fanny and Rosamund
went off with mother and Marie to get her settled.  "Dinner in half an
hour," Uncle Digby said, "That is if the ladies are ready."

     "I will be," my Father said, "I have an insatiable desire for some
solid sustenance now."

     But that meant we each had another glass of that delightful drink
before we heard them descending the stairs to the family diningroom.  I
also had two glasses of quite enjoyable red wine with the most scrumptious
meal.  I didn't count the courses but I think there were seven and Father
and Uncle Digby had a glass of something with each.  I thought that if
Mehmet had his hands on father for a massage after a meal like that they
might disappear in the plumpness which was certainly not muscle.

     All descended on the parlour when the meal was over and both Father
and Uncle Digby were soon discussing things over their pipes and glasses of
brandy.  The ladies were intent on their plans for the Ball and the At
Homes which they would be attending.  I did find out I wasn't to be
forgotten in that at one At Home, a musical soiree here, I would be
expected to play my flute and I would be taken to a concert one evening as
well.  I excused myself and nobody took any notice so I went upstairs to my
room.

     What I thought was delightful was the fact that no candles needed to
be carried.  There was a gasolier above the stairwell but other gaslights
in the corridors.  The only thing was the rather all-pervading smell of
coal gas but that was better than the somewhat nastier aroma of unemptied
pots on a hot morning.

     I was full-up, slightly tipsy and tired.  I even closed my eyes while
having a look at the book of engravings of Rome I had chosen.  I must have
been like that for a good half an hour and then Jabez appeared.  He
realised I was sleepy so helped me undress and I was put to bed like a
young child.

     "A few more meals like that...," he whispered as he stripped off he
joined me, "...And you'll be fatter than one of Baxter's porkers."  He
burped.  "And I must watch what I eat, too."

     I merely grunted and was off in the land of dreams for the second
night without checking on my friend Jabez's pride.  I slept long and hard
and something like that was what I also found presented to my sight as I
was shaken awake in the morning.

To be continued: