Date: Fri, 29 Apr 2011 22:26:33 +0000 From: Jo Vincent Subject: 'Tom Browning's Schooldays' Chapter 3 Tom Browning's Schooldays By Joel Chapter Three Some characters: Thomas Browning - schoolboy [14] Robin Goodhew - groom [14] Hon. George Lascelles - schoolboy [16] Theodore Davis - schoolboy [16] Aubrey Bayes - schoolboy [14] Japhet, Ham, Barney - servants Shem - groom Rev. Mr Ridley - Headmaster Rev. Mr Martin - Master Both Theo and I stared at George, rather shocked at his expletives. Theo spoke first. "George, don't get upset. I know he's caused you much trouble before." He shook his head. "I wonder why he is allowed to stay except that Pratt does not care to know what happens in his House." "Of course Pratt knows! He lets in scum as their fathers pay him more to keep them off their hands and out of gaol where they belong!" George stood up and paced the floor. "And now I'm in Bartleby's Remove with half of Pratt's rabble and their leader is my evil fucking cousin, Black Jack Lascelles." "George, George." Theo stood and went up to George who was now staring out of the window. He put an arm round his shoulder. "He hasn't harmed you today, has he?" George was near tears. "No, but the sneer on his face when he came in with those cronies of his." He clenched his fists. "No, he said nothing but he will scheme in that twisted mind of his and I shall be the one they trouble. I have tried to be cheerful. I do not want you or young Tom to suffer either." Theo led George back to the chairs and as they sat Theo held one of his hands. I, too, put a hand out and gripped his other tightly. "George," I said quietly, "I may be young and new here but I want you to be my friend and I hope to be a good friend to you." A solitary tear rolled down his cheek. He couldn't wipe it as his hands were being held tight. He tried a smile. "I know you are my friends and I hope I have others but that demon has persecuted me since I was young." He shook his head. "I haven't even told Theo all the torments I have been put through. After his father lost most of his money he was sent to live with us. That was when I was six and he was almost eight. I thought then he would be a friend and I trusted him. He was no friend as I soon learned. He taught me to steal and lie to cover him and, to this day, I have never told anyone all the evil things he did to me. He was cruel and took great pleasure in beating our dogs or setting them on young cats he would throw into the pond. Other times he would wring the necks of chickens and set them down so they would run about until they died, or stole the eggs and destroyed nests in the hedges even with young birds in them. Farmer Crossley shot one of our dogs when he found it worrying his sheep but it was Jack who had let the dog loose and then hid and laughed." He paused and sniffed. I gripped his hand even tighter. "I will tell you this although you must never tell it to others." He waited as both of us nodded. "When he was twelve my father found him in a stable room with one of the young grooms on his knees with Jack's pizzle in his mouth. I know because I was hiding and looking through a gap in the wall. Two days later both he and the groom were gone. Jack to some school in Yorkshire and the groom thrashed and dismissed. The next year I was sent here as my mother became ill for a time and then the year after Jack was expelled from that school and came here, too. I think Pratt was well paid to take him. What he did at that school has never been said but I have heard tales of some things which he boasts of." "George," said Theo softly, "Do not distress yourself. We are here and there are more of us than Jack and his gang of ne'er-do-wells. We all know they have evil minds but I know Old Win and others in the Sixth have them in their sights and make sure their wickedness doesn't prosper." "I only wish so," said George, "But, thank you for listening to my tale." We let go of his hands which he clasped together and raised against his chest. "I will try to be brave." He looked at me. "You say young Timmy Turner is here?" I said I had seen the young lad that Robin had said was Timmy but I did not know his surname but he was quite dark-skinned. George shook his head again. "Poor young Timmy to be here with that evil creature. Timmy is dark as his grandfather was brought here as a boy from our old plantation in Jamaica. I might tell you my family's money came from sugar and now we have lost most of our holdings out there. His grandfather became the butler at our house and married one of the cooks. They had a son who followed in his father's position and also married a cook but they both died when Timmy was very young." He smiled. "Timmy has such a sweet nature and my Mother had one of the gardeners take him in and he was doing well. Last year Jack's father visited and said he needed a gardener's boy and my Father rather foolishly said he could have Timmy. My Mother said he was foolish and she was right if the poor boy is here." He fixed me with a stare. "And you said he was beaten?" I said just what Robin had told me. Jack's horse was lame and the boy was thrashed and Robin had comforted him. George was incensed. "That cur has no right to that boy. What does Timmy know about horses? He has spent his time in the gardens. Tomorrow I will come with you and I will see what can be done. I dare not confront Jack alone. He has an evil temper and I have felt his riding crop many times." "Don't worry George. It will be his last year here in any case. He must be close to eighteen and old Pratt will have to cast him out. Is he destined for University?" asked Theo. "I do not know. If he is then they will have to let him in by the back door as his brains are between his legs as my brother Geoffrey says and all he did today was shuffle his arse to and fro while he and Macauley played at some card game." I was curious. "You say his father lost most of his money. How was that?" George snorted. "He bought and sold worthless shares and blamed my Father when they crashed. It was only later Father found his signature had been forged on some document but it was all hushed up or his brother would have been arrested with his accomplices. So, Uncle Philip got away with it and he has prospered since with buying and selling more chunks of the moon or whatever. My Father was incensed when he was elected an M.P. two years ago with the voters thinking he was as clean as a white sheet. My brother Augustus was all for proclaiming the truth but Father said it was not worth the effort and he would keep it as a rein on his brother's activities." "So, like father, like son," I said, hoping I would not get entangled with Black Jack and his mischief. "Too true," said George resignedly, "They are a burden my family has to bear, but Tom, you must help us to win." Theo laughed. "Good George, you have us at your side at all times. You are lucky, though, to have an exciting family. Mine are just over-holy clerics and righteous lawyers. That is excepting my brothers, though one is a curate and the other a barrister. At least both like a glass and a jest, not like my uncles. Uncle Peter is a canon and so jealous of Father and Uncle Charles is both so holy and unctuous it is unbelievable. He tells me to pray and ask forgiveness for all my sins and then pinches my backside. My brother Percy said he did not join Uncle Charles' chambers as he could not stand the old rogue." George was amused. "Pinches your backside, eh?" He winked at me. "Theo's backside has been admired by many so his Uncle must be a connoisseur. His first fag-master used to make him stand in the corner with his britches down if he burnt the sausages. I think old Fowler let you burn them on purpose as you never learned." Theo sneered. "At least Bertie Fowler always shared his tuck not like Billy Parsons with you. You would have starved if Bertie hadn't taken pity on you. I think it was your blond curls which made him so friendly." "Yes," said George, "He did try to stroke my hair as well as scratch his cods while staring at your pretty backside and Billy never had any cash as he was always gambling it away." Both boys were laughing now. George was more cheerful and I was learning lots of new things. By this time it was quite dark and George had lit two candles. "I think we must prepare ourselves for bed," he said, "We have all had a busy day even if mine has been a waste." I was tired. I had been excited with my first day at school and I needed my sleep to relax me. But there was a small surprise when I had stripped and put my nightshirt on. The others were also ready for their bed and just before George blew out the candles I drew my truckle bed from under theirs and on my pillow was a clean washcloth. In the first darkness Theo intoned his prayer to keep us safe. I lay then for a moment thinking of my new friends, of Robin and the poor ill-used black boy, of my new class mates and smiled at that small kind action by someone in the bed above. In the hush I heard movements and the bigger bed creaked. I cast my bedclothes away and raised my nightshirt and joined in that boyish ritual enjoyed, I knew, by each in the room. The tolling of the bell at six o'clock woke me. George and Theo were already stirring and a large foot almost trampled on me as George slid off the end of their bed. "Come on, young Tom, no time this morning for other things. We must get to the outhouse quickly as I need a good piss and others will be awake sooner today to miss the stench of lateness." I grinned. I liked that phrase. 'The stench of lateness'. True. I had made a quick journey to the piss trough after my ride and again after supper and there was a miasma surrounding the stalls which outdid even the midden I had passed beyond the stable. Of course, we three had also made free of our pots when stripping for bed but these were safely in the closed commode by the door. My nightshirt was soon off and I did not hide my morning arousal as my running drawers replaced it. I was too intent in being ready so I did not see my companions' conditions as I pulled my undershirt over my head. I tied my boot laces quickly and I was ready as soon as the other two. "We must see if young Bayes and the others are awake," Theo said. I was last out so locked the door and watched as George knocked and then burst into the room next door. "Up, up, you lazy lubbers!" he roared and bed clothes were thrown around. "You bastard!" was Collett's low-throated response. Two pillows missed George and were caught by Theo and me as they sailed through the door. "Caught you, Gordon," sang out George, "My, that is a beauty! Look boys, Gordon is as red below as he is above!" In his scramble to get off the bed his nightshirt was well above his knees. Even in the morning half-light Gordon's abundant bush appeared almost as vivid as his mop of red hair. He was too quick for me to see anything else as his nightshirt flopped down. "I guessed it would be you, bloody George! I'll have your guts." I glanced down. Bayes was sitting up on his truckle bed and laughing. "Good, we'll get a clean seat today." He jumped up and was nude in a moment. His bush was as dark as his head and, like me, he was quite aroused. As he scrabbled for his undershirt and drawers his pizzle softened and was quite short and fat. I was reminded of Jacob Barker whose own short, fat peg lengthened almost to that of his brother Isaac. I had come to realise a time ago that boys differed in the way they were made between their legs and not only in their main body. Bayes was ready first and gathered up his own washcloth, bag, towel and paper and led the way as we three followed him as quiet as mice down the stairs. Theo whispered, "Mustn't wake the guardian dog." No need for that as Pullen was snoring deeply, his mouth wide open, with a red bandanna tied about his head covering his eyes. Still, we passed silently with George unlocking the door. Collett and Gordon joined us as we lined up in front of the trough. Six steamy streams were let loose and there were sighs of relief. Six of the eight stalls were then occupied and the previous miasma was not so evident. The lime had done its work. I finished first and was already filling a basin with tepid water from the copper when joined one by one by the others. "Why they don't wake up that lazy maggot earlier I do not know," grumbled George as he pushed more firewood into a half lit under-grate, "I'll kick his arse when I see him!" A rather grubby, quite tiny lad, came in carrying a pile of sticks. "Oh, it's you Master Potts, you lazy rascal!" said George rather resignedly, "Get down and blow some life into that miserable fire or I'll use one of those sticks on your skinny arse." The lad stood up having dropped the pile. He looked straight up at George who almost towered above his slight frame. "Nay, Maister Lassalls, I have a foine pair a bellas roight 'ere." His country accent was most marked and he certainly wasn't cowed by George, small as he was. He reached under a piece of canvas and brought out, indeed, 'a fine pair of bellows' which soon made a roaring fire. "Ma faither'll mek you a pair. Half a crown?" George took the instrument from him and pumped at the fire energetically. "Two shillings," he said. "'Tis done," the lad said and left us to our ablutions. George shook his head as others also appeared and grabbed bowls and were rewarded with warmer water. "That's Old Man Potts youngest. Eight sons and not one above five foot and all rascals but I'd trust every one!" I was too busy drying my backside than to work out that mixed statement, but wondered if that very short Barney at the Ridley's house was another Potts as the two boys looked similar. Anyway, I was now clean and hungry and breakfast was still an hour away. Aubrey Bayes, Theo and I wandered back to our rooms. Pullen was fast asleep and snoring, his bandanna still covering his eyes, his snaggled teeth on full display. We crept past, sneering and making long noses at him and then giggled together when we reached our top landing. "We have geometry this morning," said Bayes as he unlocked his door, "Have you drawing instruments?" This was directed at me. Yes, I told him, and I also had a volume of the Elements of Euclid which had tired my poor brain. He said I was not the only one but his father had helped him over the Pons Asinorum. Theo laughed and said he had limped across and was now enjoying the problems using the theorem of Pythagoras. I was ashamed to say I had paid little attention to the proof of theorems but said I liked the constructions. They agreed and said that once we finished the first course in our text we would be taught by Mr Dimbleby as Mr Martin had never gone further with his own mathematics. I learned that Mr Dimbleby taught all the higher mathematics and also had a collection of pet animals and birds at his house and went out at night with lamps to collect moths. "He is a strange man but very clever," said Aubrey, "He has this pet raven which I have been told can count." "Then the bird is cleverer than that big oaf Macauley," said Theo, "I have heard he complains that there are twelve pence in a shilling as he does not have enough fingers to count on when he has to pay the landlord at the Hat and Feathers for his extra beer." "And old Tweedie cheats him, no doubt," said Aubrey, "I used to hear Billy Parsons swearing that he never had luck at cards there because they were marked." "And he got birched for gambling?" I said remembering what I had heard. "No," said Aubrey, "He got birched for not dropping the coins for two of the Ushers to have more ale. Anyway he was very drunk that night and was still befuddled the next morning when he was put over the horse." "The horse?" I asked. "You will learn. It does not happen often but when a boy is birched we have to go to Big School and they have a trestle over which he is put ready for the punishment," Theo said. "I have seen it twice and I know Mr Ridley wants it stopped but the Governors insist it be kept. I think it is quite barbaric and my father thinks so to. He is a Governor but only has one vote." I was quite shocked. I knew the magistrate in Stamford had set a punishment for some man to be birched but to do this to a boy in such a way? Aubrey had more to tell. "I saw Billy Parsons go for the stage with his bags that afternoon as I had to take the same one and he swore he would get even with Pullen and Norris as they had peached on him he was sure. He said he was not sorry to be leaving the school but he was afraid of what his father might do." "Does George know all this," Theo asked. "I have never told anyone as Pullen is evil anyway and Norris is no better and I would not like to cross either and George is quite impetuous sometimes. Billy Parsons was a good friend to him and George was called to Mr Ridley's that morning and did not see Billy go." "Best not to tell George yet," said Theo, "He has enough with Bartleby's ruffians without him doing something to let Pullen loose on him." We had to stop our discussion as we could hear the others coming up the stairs. Theo put his finger to his lips. "You will say nothing, I hope." I nodded. George seemed quite happy as we three started to dress. "So young Tom I have saved your breath with buying you a 'foine set a bellas', eh?" Ouch, he slapped me on the back as I bent to tie the laces on my day boots. "But, I think I will charge you a half-penny for each time you use them on our fire." He laughed, "No, It'll be worth it to have a blaze straight away. I'll go and see Old Man Potts and make sure of the bargain." Oh, I had a secret which I must not share with him. He was now serious. "Let me see if I can repeat those pronouns, eh, Theo." I was pleased as he went through his recitation perfectly twice as he finished dressing. He turned to me. "You said your jerkin was worn. Let me have it. I have a needle and strong thread in my box." In five minutes my jerkin was as new. "There my boy, if I fail as a military man at least I would have a useful trade." I thanked him and said as seriously as possible that my sisters could do with him as they often complained of difficulty in finding a good seamstress for their dresses. Perhaps he might oblige. George was strong. In a trice I was lifted and dropped over their bed and my backside slapped. I was roaring with laughter as he then tickled my ribs. I enjoyed his touch and it had an effect. He rolled me over and as I lay spreadeagled my hardness was evident in my britches. All he did was wink at me and twitch his nose. He knew my response and I hoped that some time we might repeat this, perhaps without my britches on! I knew I enjoyed such times with my friends at home. I slid off the bed and rearranged myself. George swatted my backside again as I went to the desk to make sure my pen and pencils were ready with paper and the Euclid which Theo said I should take. "Make sure you eat well today as you will need to watch your belly is not too full before the Chase tomorrow. I was a Hare last year to Billy who had stuffed himself with spotted duff at luncheon and spewed it up within the first mile." I could not resist it. "You and Billy were very close." He smiled and I saw Theo cast a wary eye at me. "We shared many happy times," he twitched his nose again, "He taught me many things which I cannot forget. He was foolish, too, and I am glad I did not follow that path. I had the example of my rotten uncle and the way he misused my father's trust but Billy was reckless." Theo then asked George if the paper for the trail was ready. "Mr Pretyman said that the youngsters here and in Parker's House will be set to tear tonight as we will need two good satchels each full." He looked at me. "He said he will tell us our course after supper this evening. I have learned the country around so it should not be too difficult as long as you do not lead me astray!" He laughed as he said that and I almost said I was ready to be led astray by him at any time. I had not released my usual feelings this morning and having almost given way to urges with being tickled I was in a quandary. At home I could make use of the privy by the near stable. Here I must endure my arousal and hope that the study of mathematics would reduce my wantonness. My friend Jacob Barker had said on many mornings at the forge that the heat made him wild in his feelings. His brother Isaac said it was not just the warmth of the forge for him but of his blood as at all times, whether at the forge or not, he could feel the wildness in his own loins. I knew what he meant but had kept silent as my own pizzle was often aroused, not only while at the forge but also at the sight of my two friends, their naked chests sweating, as they hammered and bent and cut the white hot iron. I was envious of their muscled bodies but now realised I had developed a sturdiness which I was determined not to lose. My friend Robin was also well-muscled and strong and that with hard work in the stables and helping carry the masonry stone. I resolved that I would run and try my strength to keep the hardness of my muscles as well as the continued hardness of my pizzle. I must not think of such things as my response was immediate. Yes, think of Pythagoras and how to see the workings of the rules about the squares. But we still had some time before breakfast. Our door was open and although two flights of stairs away we heard clearly the shouts from below. Someone had woken Pullen. George's face then fell. "If he is in a temper now I fear for us in Bartleby's today. It was bad enough yesterday but he will find every excuse to use that stick of his for any imagined offence I'm sure." We left it as late as possible before going down the stairs. Pullen was not around so something was amiss as his bandanna was on the floor and wrapped round something that looked suspiciously sticky. It was an almost silent procession which entered the hall. There was subdued conversation as we were joined by the younger boys who had also heard the commotion but used another door from their dormitories on our downstairs floor. Their guardian Usher was Norris as Theo whispered to me. Still, I was hungry and not much bothered with Pullen, however he was awoken. George had disappeared as soon as we entered the room. We sat as the younger ones went up to the serving table but then George appeared grinning broadly. "That noise," he whispered loudly to all our table, "Someone lobbed a lump of horseshit straight into Pullen's gob. Old Win says if he knew who it was could bowl as good as that he'd have him in the cricket team no question!" To be continued: