“That's well, and now let us see what kind of Latin and Greek lining you have got to your head.”
So saying, without appearing to notice the tittering of the pupils, he pointed to a seat by his side, and commenced what I considered a very formidable examination, with the view of eliciting the extent of my acquaintance with the writers of antiquity, which proved to be extremely select. When he had thoroughly satisfied (or dissatisfied) himself upon this point, he recommended Horace and Xenophon to my particular notice, adding, that Coleman was also directing his attention to the sayings and doings of the same honourable and learned gentlemen—and that, therefore, we were to work together. He then explained to me certain rules and regulations of his establishment, to which he added a few moral remarks, conveying the information, that, if I always did exactly what he considered right, and scrupulously avoided everything he deemed wrong, I might relieve my mind from all fears of his displeasure, which was, to say the least, satisfactory, if not particularly original.
Exactly as the clock struck one Dr. Mildman left the room (the morning's “study,” as it was called, ending at that hour), leaving us our own masters till five, at which time we dined. Lest any kind reader should fancy we were starved, let me add, that at half-past one a substantial luncheon was provided, of which we might partake or not as we pleased. As well as I remember we generally did graciously incline towards the demolition of the viands, unless “metal more attractive” awaited us elsewhere—but I am digressing.
CHAPTER III — COLD-WATER CURE FOR THE HEARTACHE
“Oh! grief for words too deep,
From all his loved ones parted,
He could not choose but weep,
He was so lonely-hearted.”
—Shortfellow.
“How does the water come down at Lodore?
Dashing and flashing, and splashing and clashing,
All at once and all o'er, with a mighty uproar,
And this way the water comes down at Lodore.”
—Southey.
“PRAY, Fairlegh, what did you mean by not coming down till eleven o'clock?” asked Cumberland in an angry tone.
“Did its mamma say it was always to have its breakfast in bed, a dear?” sneered Lawless.
“When she fastened that pretty square collar round its neck,” chimed in Coleman.