“Ah! I thought I could match the young fool with an old one,” said he derisively, to hide his own satisfaction, as he took his short legs to the door.
But Mrs. Clowes called him back, put a large paper parcel in his hand, and said,
“Here, Jotty, see you give these sweetmeats to your cry-a-babby, and tell him an old woman says there’s no harm in fighting in self-defence with any kind of a snake, or for his own good name, or to protect the helpless; but, if he fights just to show off his own bravery, he’s a coward. And you tell him from me never to be ashamed of tears he has shed in repentance for injury he may have done to any living thing. Now see you tell him, parson; and maybe my preachment may be worth more to him than my cakes and toffy, or your sermons.” And she nodded her head till her cap-border flapped like a bird’s wings.
“Ugh! dame, you’ll be for wagging that tongue and mutch of yours in my pulpit next,” said he, gruffly.
But he delivered the parcel and the “preachment” both faithfully, and, moreover, turned over his stores of old school books for a Latin grammar, which he put into the hand of Jabez, with a promise to instruct the boy in the language, if he would like to learn.
Forthwith Jabez, not caring to seem ungracious, though without any special liking for the task, had to encroach upon his playhours for a new study, under-rated by the pupil, over-rated by the teacher.
Could Joshua Brookes have put mathematical instruments within his reach, or given him pencils and colours, the boy’s eyes would have sparkled, and study been a pleasure.
CHAPTER THE TENTH.
FIRST ANTAGONISM.
THE extensive oblong enclosure known as Ardwick Green, situated at the south-eastern extremity of the town, on the left-hand side of the highway to Stockport and London, was in 1809 part of a suburban village, and from Piccadilly to a blacksmith’s forge a little beyond Ardwick Bridge, fields and hedges were interspersed with the newly-erected houses along Bank Top.