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Burr Junior, a novel by George Manville Fenn

Chapter 6

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_ CHAPTER SIX.

We were none the worse for our adventure at the pond, and I very soon settled down to my school life, finding it, as life is, a mixture of pleasure and pain, joy and sorrow, all just as intense to the boy fifty or sixty years ago as it is now that schools are conducted upon very different principles, and a much higher grade of education is taught.

Perhaps a great deal of the teaching at Meade Place would be looked upon now as lax; but in those days the Doctor's school bore a very high character for the boys it had turned out, many of whom had gone into the East India Company's Service, and the principal drawing-room was decorated with presents sent to him by old pupils, Indian jars and cabinets, brass lotahs and trays, specimens of weapons from Delhi, and ivory carvings; while from pupils who had gone to China and Japan, came bronzes, porcelain, screens, and lacquer of the most beautiful kind.

Neither were the ladies forgotten, Mrs Browne and her daughters being well furnished with Indian scarves, muslin, and Canton crape shawls.

It was, of course, on account of his connection with so many officers that my uncle had chosen this school as the one most likely to prepare me for my future career.

When I first went down, Mr Rebble was the only assistant the doctor had; but I soon learned that the French master came twice a week from Rye, that the other usher had left to go into partnership with a friend in a school at Lewes, and that another was coming in a few days.

The Doctor was one of my informants, for, after passing me through a general examination as to my capabilities, he told me that I was in a most hopeless state of ignorance, and that as soon as the assistant master, Mr Hasnip, arrived, I should have to go under his special charge.

"For we can't have boys like you, Burr junior," he said smiling. "I don't know what would become of my establishment if many were as backward as you."

"I'm very sorry, sir," I said humbly.

"I am glad you are," he said; "for that means repentance for neglected opportunities, and, of course, a stern determination to make up for lost time."

"Yes, sir, I'll try," I said.

"That's right, and try hard. Your English is very weak; your Latin terribly deficient; your writing execrable; and your mathematics absolutely hopeless. There, go back to your place and work hard, my boy--work hard."

I descended from the dais, with the eyes of the whole school upon me, and, as I walked between the two rows of forms, I could hear whispered remarks intended for me, and it was with a feeling of despair that I reseated myself, opened my desk and took out my Latin grammar, to begin turning over the leaves, looking hopelessly at the declensions and conjugations, with the exceptions and notes.

"What's the matter?" whispered Mercer, who just then returned from Mr Rebble's end, where he had made one of a class in Euclid.

"Doctor says I'm so terribly behindhand that he is ashamed of me."

"Gammon!"

"What?"

"I said, gammon. You're right enough. Forwarder than I am, and I've been here two years."

"Oh no," I said.

"Yes, you are. Don't contradict; 'tisn't gentlemanly. He said your English was weak?"

"How did you know?"

"Your Latin terribly deficient?"

"I say!" I cried, staring.

"Your writing execrable?"

"Mercer!"

"And your mathematics absolutely hopeless?"

"But you were at the other end of the room when he said that," I cried aghast.

"Of course; I was being wigged by old Rebble because I couldn't go through the forty-seventh of Book One; and I can't, and I feel as if I never shall."

"I think I could," I said.

"Of course you could; nearly every chap in the school can but me. I can learn some things easily enough; but I can't remember all about those angles and squares, and all the rest of them."

"You soon will if you try," I whispered. "But how did you know the doctor said all that to me?"

"Because he says it to every new boy. He said it to me, and made me so miserable that I nearly ran away and if I hadn't had a very big cake in my box, that I brought with me, I believe I should have broken my heart."

"But I am very ignorant," I said, after a pause for thought, during which my companion's words had rather a comforting effect.

"So's everybody. I'm awfully ignorant. What would be the good of coming here if we weren't all behind? Oh, how I wish things could be turned round!"

"Turned round?" I said wonderingly.

"Yes, so that I could know all the books of Euclid by heart, and have old Rebble obliged to come and stand before me, and feel as if all he had learned had run out of his head like water out of a sponge."

"Never mind," I said; "let's work and learn."

"You'll have to, my lad."

"Less talking there," said Mr Rebble.

"Oh, very well," whispered Mercer, and then he went on half aloud, but indistinctly, repeating the problem in Euclid over which he had broken down.

I glanced at Mr Rebble, and saw that he was watching us both intently, and I bent over my Latin grammar, and began learning the feminine nouns which ended in "us," while Mercer half turned his head towards me.

"A little less noise at your end of the school, Mr Rebble, if you please," said the Doctor blandly.

"Yes, sir," said Mr Rebble, and then, in a low, severe voice, "Mercer, Burr junior, come up."

Mercer threw his leg over the form, and I followed his example, involuntarily glancing across at my namesake, who made a grimace, and gave himself a writhe, as if suggesting that I should have a cut from the cane after being reported to the Doctor, and I knew that he was watching us both as we went up to the usher's desk.

"Close up, both of you," said Mr Rebble sternly, but in a low voice, so that his words should not reach the Doctor.

We moved closer.

"Now, sir," he said sternly, "I called for silence twice, and you, Mercer, and you, Burr junior, both kept on speaking. I distinctly saw your lips moving--both of you. Now, sir, I insist upon your repeating the words you said as I caught your eye."

"Subtending the right angle, sir," said Mercer promptly.

"And you, sir?" continued Mr Rebble, turning to me.

"_Idus, quercus, ficus, manus_, sir," I replied innocently.

"That will do. Go back to your places, and if I do catch you talking again in school hours--"

"Please, sir, that wasn't talking," said Mercer in expostulation.

"Silence, sir. I say, if I do catch you talking, I shall report you to the Doctor. That will do."

We went demurely enough back to our places, and this summons had the effect upon me of making me feel more ill-used than before. As I once more went on with my Latin, I was conscious that Mercer was writing something on his slate, and when it was done, he wetted his hand, and gave me a nudge, for me to read what he had written.

"He don't like you, because we're friends. He don't like me. Yah! Who don't know how to fish?"

I had barely read this, when Mercer's hand rapidly obliterated the words, and only just in time, for Mr Rebble left his desk and came slowly by us, glancing over our shoulders as he passed, but Mercer was safe, for he had rapidly formed a right-angled triangle on his slate, and was carefully finishing a capital A, as the usher passed on up to the Doctor's end.

Those mornings glided away, and so slowly that it seemed as if the mid-day bell would never ring, but its sonorous tones rang through the place at last, and, hanging back, so as not to be called upon to form part of those who would have to go and field for Burr major and another of the bigger lads, Mercer and I waited our time, one day when I had been there about a fortnight, and then slipped off to the stable-yard, and then up into one of the lofts, which the boys were allowed to use as a kind of workshop.

"What do you want to come here for?" I said, as we ascended the rough ladder, and stood in the dimly lighted place.

"I'll show you directly," he said. "Don't you know what I've got up here?"

"No."

"My museum."

I looked around, but nothing was visible but some willow chips, and a half-formed cricket bat which Dicksee was making, by the help of a spokeshave he had borrowed at the wheelwright's, and which promised to be as clumsy a stump defender as ever was held in two hands.

"Well," I said, "where is it?"

"Here," said Mercer triumphantly, as he led the way to where an old corn-bin stood beneath one of the windows, the lid securely held down by a padlock whose key my companion brought out of his pocket.

"Never mind the old Latin and Euclid. I'll let you come and help me here sometimes, and if old Burr major or Dicksee interferes, you'll have to help me, for I wouldn't have my things spoiled for ever so much."

"Oh, I'll help you," I said, and I waited with some curiosity while he opened the lock, and, after hanging it on a nail, slowly raised the lid, and I looked in to see a strange assortment of odds and ends. What seemed to be dead birds were mixed up with tow, feathers, wire, a file, a pair of cutting pincers, and a flat pomatum pot, on which was printed the word "poison."

"What's that for?" I said wonderingly.

"Oh, that's soap," he said.

"No, no, that--the poison."

"Soap, I tell you. Take off the lid."

I hesitated for a moment, and then raised the lid, to see that the box was half full of a creamy-looking paste, which exhaled an aromatic odour.

"Is that soap?" I said.

"Yes, to brush over the skins of things I want to preserve. Don't touch it. You have to wash your hands ever so many times when you've been using it. Look, that's a starling I began to stuff, but it don't look much like a bird, does it?"

"Looks more like a pincushion," I said. "What's the cotton for?"

"Oh, that's to keep the wings in their places till they're dry. You wind cotton over them, and that holds their feathers down, but I didn't get this one right."

"He's too big and fat," I said.

"Yes, I stuffed him too much; but I'm going to try and do another."

The starling was laid down, and a jay picked up.

"That's another one I tried," he said sadly, "but it never would look like a bird. They're ever so much handsomer than that out in the woods."

"I suppose,"--I said, and then quickly--"Are they?"

"Yes, you know they are," said Mercer dolefully. "These are horrid. I know exactly how I want them to look, but they will not come so."

"They will in time," I said, to cheer him, for his failures seemed to make him despondent.

"No," he said, "I'm afraid not. Birds are beautiful things,--starlings are and jays,--and nobody can say that those are beautiful. Regular old Guy Fawkes's of birds, aren't they?"

"You mustn't ask me," I replied evasively. "I'm no judge. But what's this horrid thing?"

"Frog. Better not touch it. I never could get on with that. It's more like a toad than a frog. It's too full of sand."

"Sand! Why, it's quite light."

"I mean, was too full of sand; it's emptied out now. I told you that's how you stuff reptiles, skin 'em, and fill 'em full of sand till they're dry, and then pour it out."

"Oh yes, I remember; but that one is too stout."

"Yes," said Mercer, "that's the worst of it; they will come so if you don't mind. The skins stretch so, and then they come humpy."

"And what's that?" I asked. "Looks like a fur sausage."

"You get out with your fur sausages. See if you could do it better. That's a stoat."

I burst out laughing now, and he looked at me in a disconsolate way, and then smiled sadly.

"Yes, it is a beast after all," he said. "My father has got a book about anatomy, but I never thought anything about that sort of thing till I tried to stuff little animals. You see they haven't got any feathers to hide their shape, and they've got so much shape. A bird's only like an egg, with a head, and two wings on the side, so that if you make up a ball of tow like an egg, and pull the skin over it, you can't be so very far wrong; but an animal wants curves here and hollows there, and nicely rounded hind legs, and his head lifted up gracefully, and that--Ugh! the wretch! I'll burn it first chance. I won't try any more animals."

"A squirrel looks nice stuffed," I observed, as I recalled one I had seen in a glass case, having a nut in its fore paws, and with its tail curved up over its back.

"Does it?" said Mercer dolefully; "mine don't."

"You have stuffed squirrels?" I said.

He nodded sadly.

"Two," he replied. "I didn't skin the first properly, and it smelt so horrid that I buried it."

"And the second one?"

"Oh, that didn't look anything like a squirrel. It was more like a short, fat puppy when I had finished, only you knew it was a squirrel by its tail.--What say?"

"I didn't speak," I said, as he looked up sharply from where he had been leaning down into the old corn-bin.

"I thought you said something. There, that's all I shall show you to-day," he went on disconsolately. "I never knew they were so bad till I brought you up to see them."

"Oh, they're not so very bad," I said, trying to console him by my interest in his works.

"Yes, they are. Horrible! I did mean to have a glass case for some of them, and ornament them with dried moss and grass, but I'm afraid that the more you tried to ornament these, the worse they'd look."

This sounded so perfectly true that I could not say a word in contradiction; and I stood staring at him, quite at a loss for words, and he was staring at me, when there was a shout and a rush along the loft floor, and I saw Burr major and Dicksee coming toward us fast, and half a dozen more boys crowding up through the trap-door into the place.

"Caught you then!" cried Burr major. "Come along, boys, old Senna's going to show us his museum and his doctor's shop."

Mercer banged down the lid of the corn-bin, and was struggling hard to get the hasp over the staple and the padlock on, when Burr major seized him and dragged him away.

"No, no," roared Mercer. "Here, Burr junior, catch hold." He threw the padlock to me, but the key dropped out, and one of the boys pounced upon it, while Dicksee threw his arms round me and held me tight.

"No, you don't," he cried.

"That's right," said Burr major. "Hold him, boys. The artful beggars had sneaked up here to have a tuck-in. We'll eat it all for them."

"There's nothing in the box--there's nothing there!" cried Mercer, struggling vainly, but only to be dragged down on the floor.

"Here, two of you, come and sit on him," said Burr major. "Hold that other beggar tight, Dicksee. Keep quiet, will you, or I will chuck you down the stairs."

By that time, under our tyrant's orders, two boys had come to Dicksee's help, and had seized me by a wrist each, so that I was helpless.

"Now then," continued Burr major, "we'll just see what my gentleman keeps locked up here. He's always sneaking up after something."

"You let that box alone," shouted Mercer, after an ineffective struggle to get free.

"Shan't. You're not going to do just as you like, Physic," said Burr major, and he threw up the lid, looked in, and then uttered a contemptuous "Pah!"

"What a mess!" he cried. "Look here, Dicksee."

The latter crossed to him eagerly, and I stood there a prisoner, but burning with indignation and an intense desire to hit some one.

"I'll tell the Doctor," cried Mercer. "It's a shame!"

"Oh, is it? You'd better tell tales--do. Oh, I say, boys, lookye here. This is a rumtummikos incomprehensibus. What a beast!"

He had taken hold of the unfortunate stoat by the tail and held it out amidst roars of laughter. "We'll have a fire and burn him. What's next?"

He dived down into the great chest, and brought out the starling.

"Here you are, boys," he cried again. "This is the speckled pecker, or measly short-tail."

Another roar of laughter.

"And here's the blue-winged cockatooral-looral-looral."

The boys shouted again, and I saw Mercer heave up in his rage, and nearly send the boys off who were sitting upon him, while I wished I had strength enough to send our tormentors flying.

"Hallo! here we are then," cried Burr major. "I knew it. They were going to have a tuck-out. Look, boys, they meant to have 'toad in the hole' for supper, and here's the toad."

This was as he held out the bloated skin of the unfortunate frog.

"Hooray!" shouted the boys, who were looking on with rapturous delight, and the more we struggled to get free, the greater their enjoyment seemed.

"You coward!--you brute!" panted Mercer. "How would you like your box turned out?"

"Ever so. Come and do it and you'll see.--Oh!"

This last was with quite a shout.

"What is it?" cried the boys who held us. "Let's look, Burr."

"You take it out if you dare," cried Mercer, who, however, as he told me afterwards, had not the least idea what was coming next.

"Oh yes, I'll take it out," said Burr major.

"You coward! you miserable old Eely tailor!"

"Hold your tongue, will you!" cried Burr major, turning sharply round and giving Mercer a savage kick as he lay on his back, with one boy sitting on his chest, another on his legs.

"Brute!" cried Mercer, setting his teeth and trying hard not to let the tears come.

"You great long coward!" I cried; "you wouldn't dare to do that if he were not down."

"You hold your row," he cried, and as I stood thus held, I received a sharp, back-handed blow on the mouth, which made my lip bleed.

"Bring it out, Dicksee."

The latter wanted no second telling, but dived down into poor Mercer's treasure-chest, and brought out the pot of preserving paste.

"There!" cried Burr major, taking up the pot with a face wrinkled up with disgust; "now we've found him out. See this, boys. Poison!"

"Oh!" chorused the little party of his parasites.

"That's the way he does it. He's worse than a witch. This is what he keeps to give to the fellows, and pretends it's physic, same as his nasty old father uses."

"I don't, boys--it isn't true; and my father's a gentleman, not an old snip."

"Do you want me to kick you again?" said Burr major savagely.

"Yes, if you dare," cried Mercer defiantly.

"Just you wait a bit, my lad, till I'm done. Yes, boys, that's it Dicksee, he gave you some of that, and it made you so ill the other day."

"Then we'll show it to the Doctor," cried Dicksee.

"I didn't!" cried Mercer. "That's to preserve with."

"Yes, that's it," cried Burr major--"to preserve with. Do you hear, boys? He keeps that to put in jam."

There was a shout at this, and I saw Mercer writhe in his impotence.

"Tell you what, we'll rout out the whole lot, and take them down in the stable-yard and burn them."

"You let them alone," cried Mercer frantically, as Burr major scraped out a double handful of the hoarded treasures and threw them on the floor.

"Hold him down tight, or I shall hurt him," said Burr major contemptuously.

But his words came too late, for Mercer made a sudden heave, which threw the boy on his chest off sidewise, sprang up into a sitting position, and hit out at the boy on his legs, who howled on receiving a crack on the ear; and this so roused me to action that I too wrested myself free and followed suit. I flew at Dicksee, and struck him full in the breast, sending him in his surprise down in a sitting position, just as Mercer struck our tyrant a sounding smack on the cheek.

Burr major staggered back and held his hand to his face.

"Oh, that's it, is it?" he said with a snarl. "All right, boys, Senna Tea wants me to boil him up again."

"You stand by me, Burr junior, won't you?" cried Mercer, who looked now as if he were a little startled at his daring.

"Yes," I said desperately, though I felt horribly afraid.

"Oh no, you don't," said Burr major, taking off his jacket; "I don't want to knock your silly head off. You wait till I've thrashed Master Physic, and then old Dicksee shall give you your dose."

I saw Dicksee look at him with rather a startled aspect, but Burr major took no notice beyond giving him a contemptuous glance, as he neatly folded up his jacket, and then removed his waistcoat.

"Here, Bill Ducie, go down and shut the stable door, and lock it inside," continued Burr major in a lofty tone; "we don't want to be interrupted before we've polished off these two beggars."

The boy ran down, and it sounded very formidable to hear the door bang and the rusty lock turned.

"Now then, off with that coat, sir," said Burr major, as he began rolling up his shirt over his thin white arms. "I'm not going to wait all day. The bell will ring for dinner directly. Hold my clothes, one of you; I don't want them dirty."

I saw Mercer set his teeth as he pulled off his jacket and vest, and he pitched them both into the big bin, looking very stubborn and determined the while.

"Here, Dicksee, you come and second me, I'll second you afterward. You new boy, you'd better second old Senna. Pah! how physicky he smells!"

I had the vaguest notions of what I had to do, but I imitated Dicksee as well as I could, as the boys stood on one side breathless with excitement, and Burr major and Mercer faced each other with their fists clenched.

Then there was a due amount of sparring, followed by a few blows given and taken, and Burr major drew back and sat down on Dicksee's knee, Mercer taking his place on mine.

"Did he hurt you much?" I whispered.

"Horrid," was whispered back, "and I can't half get to hit at him."

Then some one shouted, and they fought again, with the result that my blood seemed to boil as poor Mercer came staggering back.

"Had enough?" said Burr major in lofty tones.

For answer Mercer flew at him, and there was another long, fierce round, which seemed to consist in Mercer's adversary driving him about the place, knocking him about just as much as he liked, and ending by sending him staggering back, so that he would have fallen all in a heap had I not caught him in my arms.

"Had enough, Doctor?" cried Burr major contemptuously, and as I supported Mercer he uttered a low sob of misery.

"Yes, he's done. Now, Dicksee, I'll second you.--Off with your togs and polish him off till his face shines. Now then, look sharp, Senna, you've got to back your chap."

I heard Mercer grind his teeth, and I felt giddy with excitement as he whispered to me,--

"Don't be afraid of him, he's a coward. Take off your things, and you try hard if you can't lick him."

"Must I fight?" I said.

"Now then, you sir, off with that jacket," cried Burr major, "or he'll give you the coward's blow."

This roused me, and I stripped for the battle, feeling very nervous and uncomfortable, while Mercer drew a long breath, mastered the pain he was in, and, after throwing my jacket and waistcoat in the bin with his own, began to whisper his instructions to me.

"Now then, off you go," said Burr major. "Be smart, Dicksee, the bell will go directly."

Dicksee made a savage run at me as I put up my arms, there were a few blows, all of which came to my share, and there was a roar of laughter as the round ended in a struggle, and I went down, with Dicksee on me, and my head giving a stunning rap on the boards.

"Don't let him wrestle with you," whispered Mercer excitedly, as he helped me up, and I sat upon his knee, feeling very dizzy and half blind with rage.

"There," shouted Burr major, "finish the beggar this time, Dicky!"

I have some recollection of our encountering again, and feeling blow after blow on my face, on my ear, chest, and shoulders; and our going down once more in another wrestling match.

"Never mind," whispered Mercer; "you're doing splendidly."

"Am I?" I gasped.

"Yes; only keep him off more, and hit straight out like he does."

"Now then," cried Burr major again, "I want to go and wash my hands. Come along, new boy, and lay your nose against old Dicksy's left, and your left eye against his right, and then he'll smooth your cheeks over and lay you on the boards, and by that time I think you'll be about cooked."

"Don't let him lick you," whispered Mercer imploringly. "Do give it him this time. Hit him on the nose always, he don't like that."

"There!" roared Burr major, as, giddy and confused, I was swinging my arms about, hitting nothing half the time, and never getting one blow home with any force to signify, and at last, after a few minutes of burning rage and confusion, during which I had received quite a shower of blows, I found myself, giddy and panting, seated upon the floor, listening to Burr major's voice.

"That's enough, Dicky; that'll do the beggars no end of good, and make 'em behave themselves when they meet gentlemen. Come on, boys. Here, you two, go and wash yourselves, and make yourselves right. The bell will ring directly, and if old Reb sees you've been fighting, he'll report you both to the Doctor, and you'll get no end of punishment."

This seemed the unkindest cut of all, and as soon as the boys had gone racing down into the yard, where Dicksee gave vent to a loud "Cock-a-doodle-doo," I slowly rose to my feet and faced Mercer, who was gazing straight before him.

"I say," I panted, for I was breathless still, "did I win?"

"You? No," he cried savagely. "You can't fight any more than I can, and the brutes have beaten us both. Here, let's look at you. Oh, you ain't much marked, only your nose bleeds a bit. That's where you ought to have hit him."

"I did try to," I said despondently; "but he wouldn't let me."

"Never mind, put on your things. I say, are my eyes swollen?"

"One of them's puffed up a bit, and your lip's cut like mine is."

"Never mind. Come and have a wash."

"Shan't you lock up your museum?"

"Not now. I don't care for it after what they've done. Yes, I do; I'll come up afterwards," he continued, rapidly replacing the pot of preserving paste. "Come along, and try and look as if nothing was the matter."

I followed him as soon as we had put on our clothes, and then we hurried to the row of basins and towels, barely completing our ablutions when the bell rang, and not looking so very much the worse.

"Never mind, old chap," whispered Mercer, as we went into the schoolroom to dinner, with the boys all watching us and making remarks; "wait a bit, and we'll have revenge."

"How?" I said, as with a horrifying rapidity the pot of poison came into my mind.

"Never you mind;" he whispered tragically. "Bitter revenge! Only you wait."

There was a tapping on the end table just then, and all the boys rose. Then the Doctor's deep, bland voice uttered the word,--

"Grace!" _

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