[SOME REMINISCENCES OF CHARLES DICKENS.]
BY HENRY AUGUSTUS ABRAHAM.
he recent death of Mr. Charles Dickens, the eldest son of the great author, reminds a schoolfellow of the former, who enjoyed for many years the friendship of the family, of a few circumstances connected with the author of the Pickwick Papers that, never having found their way to paper, may not be without interest at this moment.
It was due probably to Dickens's great regard for the actor Macready that he selected Dr. King's preparatory school for his son. Macready, who lived not far from King's, and who had heard of his great success as a teacher of the classics, informed Dickens of his intention to send his two boys to the school, and Dickens at once decided to place Charlie, as his son was always called, at the same institution.
King's was situated near the famous Lords cricket-ground on Maida Hill. When Douglas Jerrold heard of this he was anxious to know what made her ill, and trusted that Charlie would be all right.
What Dickens replied "deponent saith not," but at a later date he remarked that his boy was in pretty royal company.
It was here that the schoolfellow and his fortunate companions first set eyes on Charles Dickens. Charlie, quite unconscious of the flutter that he would create in the breasts of his schoolmates, quietly informed them that his father would visit the school on a certain day. Until that auspicious time the Pickwick Papers became more bethumbed than ever. The writer was on the tiptoe of expectation and not a little nervous. What liberties are taken with the names of the great! "Dickens is coming!" If Jones the lawyer were expected, or Pills the apothecary, it would have been: "Mr. Jones is coming; Mr. Pills will visit his son."
When Dickens did come it was with a rush. He lovingly embraced his boy, shook the hands of the fortunate lads who were introduced as Charlie's particular chums, slipped some money into his son's hand, and was off, without the almost inevitable allusion to the pons asinorum or the hic, haec, hoc, those bêtes noire of a schoolboy's existence.
But it was while he was talking to Dr. King that an opportunity was given to study Dickens from a boy's point of view. He was then considerably under forty, but looked—to the boy, remember—a comparatively old man. What was young in him were his hair and eyes. There were not many wrinkles visible, but lines of thought and care marked features that in repose were deceiving in their sternness. As to his dress, the writer has since thought that, while it might have been quite untidy and loud for a butterman's best, it suited Dickens's rapid motions and easy gait. It would be hard to imagine Dickens in prim attire. Such apparel would have been out of place.