of them, unlike Old Bob, he would never hear
a boy speak, but punished him instantly.
Yet he was naturally of a kind disposition;
and his alacrity in flogging, arose partly from
impatience and irritability—partly from his
having been brought up in that faith.

The severities practised in Old Bob's little
kingdom, were not unattended with the effects
which they sometimes have in larger
  monarchies. We had an under-master, whom I
will call Bateson; a north-countryman, with
a disgusting brogue, only less repulsive than
his unwholesome looks and malicious temper.
He was continually—as though from a savage
delight—procuring some boy or other to be
punished. Not long before my time, his
conduct had created a regular rebellion. A
conspiracy, headed by the senior boys, was
formed against him. An opportunity was
taken one evening when he was alone in the
school. By an arrangement preconcerted with
the 'candle-custodes,' most of the lights were
extinguished. Books, ink-bottles, missiles of
all kinds, were flung at his head. The larger
boys set upon him and gave him a severe
beating. Had not the school-door, which
they had premeditatedly fastened, been forced
upon, there is no knowing to what extent
they would have maltreated him. As it was,
he was shockingly bruised and disfigured.
The expulsion of some of the ring-leaders,
and the flogging of several of the other
rioters, was the issue of this transaction.
Bateson, untaught by what he had suffered,
continued to be as spiteful as ever. His
delight was to give us tasks beyond our ability,
that we might be chastised for not doing
them; and he stimulated our exertions by
menaces and abuse. Often did we vow to
thrash this dull spiteful pedant, if we caught
him anywhere after we should leave school;
and some of us, I think, had left it a pretty
long time before the resolution thus formed,
was abandoned.

Consistently enough with his notions about
the rod and the gallows, Old Bob not only
allowed, but encouraged his boys to settle
their disputes by fighting. After the battle
he usually enquired who was the aggressor;
and if Right had triumphed, he often gave
the victor a shilling. Two boys who, for
talking in the hall at breakfast, had been
made to stand on the form together, contrived
to quarrel while thus exalted, and came to
blows. Old Bob being present with his cane
(misdoers were commonly 'given up' to be
'spatted' at breakfast-time), rushed instantly
from his table to the scene of action. But
instead of using the instrument of correction
to visit this aggravated breach of discipline,
he actually employed it in keeping order
during the combat, forgetting the offence in
the delight which it afforded him. Our fistic
encounters were managed strictly in accordance
with the laws of the ' noble art of self-
defence.' They had the regular accessories of
seconds, and a ring, added to the superintendence
of 'Sheep,' and sometimes, too, the
paternal countenance of Old Bob himself!
They were divided into rounds, they lasted as
long as real prize-fights, and issued, mostly, in
similar results to the combatants, who
generally pummelled each other so severely that
they were forced to retire afterwards to the
sick-room. There, strangely enough, they
often became great friends. I recollect one
desperate contest occurring between the son
of a celebrated comic actor and a boy whose
family resided in the neighbourhood. The
spectators from the public road which skirted
the field—they were mostly farmers on horseback,
it being market-day—discovered who
were the combatants, and exhorted them by
name to 'go it.' The heroes, I think, fought
for upwards of an hour. Both were severely
punished—of course I do not mean by Old
Bob. On another occasion I was present when
a boy in fighting was knocked down. His
leg, as he fell, bent under him and was broken.
I heard the bone snap.

It will be inquired whether Old Bob's
arrangements included anything that could
counteract, or modify, at least, the not very
humanising influences of his general system.
There was plenty of what is termed religious
instruction—mingled always with infusion of
birch. We had prayers morning and evening,
and a collect in the middle of the day read by
one of the senior boys; and as stripes would
have been the penalty of a smile, if discovered,
our devotions were characterised by great
decorum. Before and after dinner we had a
Latin grace, pronounced by a young gentleman
standing on a form, but a senior boy was
liable to be called upon to say it at his bodily
peril. The essential difference between the
two graces lay in the words 'sumus sumpturi,'
'we are about to receive,' and 'accepimus,'
'we have received.' As not all who could
repeat these words attended precisely to their
meaning, the distinction was occasionally
disregarded, with what consequences may be
imagined. Two boys, morning and evening,
each elevated on a desk, read a chapter in the
New Testament a-piece, as loud as they were
able, whilst Old Bob generally kept bidding
them to speak louder and slower. The rest
had to follow them—the higher Parts, in the
Latin and Greek Testament—and take up the
text when called on, under the usual liability.
It was sometimes a fearful thing to have to
read from the desk. St. Paul, in the Second
Epistle to Timothy, alludes to one Alexander
the Coppersmith. There was a ragamuffin
who used to hang about the field-palings, on
whom we had conferred this appellation,
which, consequently, to our mind had a most
ludicrous association. When the fatal name
was pronounced, every breath in the school
was held to stifle a laugh. Imagine the agony
of the unlucky boy obliged to read it in all
gravity, deliberately, and, as Old Bob required,
'loud and slow.'

The loud and slow style of delivery was