I can too well understand the feelings which actuated, on this occasion, the little son of the honest usher of St. Hermandad, for never to this day do I enter a school-room, or my eye light on a grammar, dictionary, or other buff-coloured associate of the long-past days of my pupilage, but a host of painful and degrading recollections rush on my mind, of the hundred thwackings, confinings, mortifications, of which they were the proximate cause, as nauseous to the feelings as the remembrance of a black dose, or James’s powder, “grating harsh music” through its envelopment of black-currant jelly. And as I look at a pedagogue, I have such a lively idea of a caning, that I am glad to get out of his way.
The young mind may, in truth, be likened to the notes of an instrument, from which a harmonious result can only be extracted by the hand of a master, acquainted with their respective powers; whilst a bungler may thump away at them to the end of the chapter, and nothing but discord, or the instrument irretrievably put out of tune, will be the consequence. In fact, the art of developing, governing and improving “the young idea,” the most important of all, is yet in its infancy, particularly as regards the moral training.
But to curb my erratic vein, and proceed with my narrative.
A period having been fixed for my departure, Mr. Augustus asked me in what manner I proposed to return. I told him, that was a matter I had not considered, but that I should be entirely guided by him.
“Well,” said he, “there’s the boat you came in at your service; but the Sunderbunds are roundabout, and I’d strongly recommend your going by dawk; you’ll find it pleasanter, as you’re alone, and you’ll reach your destination much sooner.”
“Very well,” I replied, “let it be so; but may I ask what mode of transport this said dawk is of which I have heard such frequent mention made—’tisn’t any sort of animal, is it?”
“Animal!” exclaimed my friend in astonishment, and laughing heartily, “why you are a greater griffin than I took you for: this beats your spearing the village pig. A dawk is a relay of bearers at stages of ten or twelve miles apart, to carry you, at the rate of four or five miles an hour, to your journey’s end.”
“Thank you,” said I, “for the information; but not possessing intuitive knowledge, you see, one can’t be expected to know all things until told of them.”
Augustus admitted that there was reason in the observation.
Well, it was decided that I was to proceed to Barrackpore on the second night after the day on which this conversation took place; so I wrote at once to my friend Tom, to tell him that he might expect me immediately.