Ernest Bracebridge: School Days

by William Henry Giles Kingston

Plenty of boys were ready to join, and soon there was a tremendous clattering away with hoop-sticks and hoops, while Ernest was seen with a light thin hoop, dodging in noiselessly among them. His hoop-stick was as light as his hoop, which he never beat. He merely pressed the stick against it, and in an instant, by placing the stick on the top, could either stop or turn, while he kept it under the most perfect command. The sides were soon arranged. Out he darted with his swift hoop towards the enemy’s prison, which he circled round; and though Tom Bouldon was on the watch to catch him, he kept dodging about till another of his own side ran out, in the hope of knocking down Bouldon’s hoop. Bouldon was in honour bound to follow Ernest till he touched his hoop, or drove him back to his base. Ernest drove on his hoop to a considerable distance, with Tommy after him. Jones, one of Ernest’s side, pursued Tommy, Dawson pursued Jones, and Dawson, in his turn, was followed by Buttar, and so on, till every one playing was out with the double work of having to try and make a prisoner, and, at the same time, to escape from the boy pursuing him. To a spectator not knowing the game, it might have appeared as if all was confusion: but those playing knew exactly what they were about, and felt that all their energies and science were required to enable them to play well. Ernest’s great aim was to lead Bouldon into such a position that Jones might catch him. This he at last succeeded in doing, and Tommy and his hoop were sent into prison, and as no one was at the base, there he had every chance of remaining some time. Meantime, Ernest rushed to the base, to be ready to capture any one who might get back on the opposite side and endeavour to rescue Bouldon. He was joined speedily by Jones, who had only to look out so as to escape from Dawson. Dawson might have caught him, but, being himself pursued, he had to take care of his own safety. When Dawson saw that Jones had escaped him, he could with honour return to his camp; but his pursuer was nimble of foot, and had a light hoop, and just before he reached his base, he, or rather his hoop, was touched, and he had to take up his place in the prison. Thus the game continued with great animation, victory appearing now to lean to one side, now to the other; but on each occasion when their side got the worst of it, Ernest and Buttar made such well-directed efforts that they speedily restored the day. Now, all but three on their side were captured. Out sprung Ernest with his hoop, flying like the wind; and while his opponents were looking on at the rapidity of his movements, Buttar, who had thrown himself on the ground, as if exhausted, leaped up, and dashing along, had recovered a prisoner before any one could overtake him. Ernest in like manner regained another, and wheeling round as soon as he had entered the base, he was off again, and had sent an opponent to prison, and rescued another friend, without for a moment stopping. Sometimes he would tell Buttar exactly what he was going to do, and so well were his plans laid, that he seldom failed to accomplish his design. This gave him confidence in himself, and gained him the perfect confidence of his companions. At length Ernest and Buttar succeeded in putting every one of their opponents in prison, and loud shouts from their side proclaimed that they had won the well-contested victory. The game was over; the light hoops were laid aside, and Dawson proposed that they should play at English and French. Their chargers, as they called their heavy hoops, were brought out from the play-room, and the two parties, joined by a good many more, drew up on opposite sides of the field. Even some of the bigger fellows condescended to join in the game. It was generally supposed to depend more on strength than skill. The strongest hoops were used, and if a hoop was once down, the owner was obliged to retire from the field. Just as they were about to begin, Blackall passed by. Dawson instantly called to him—

“I say, Blackall—there’s a good fellow—do come and be our captain. Here’s my biggest hoop—it’s a stunner! Under your guidance it is sure to gain us the victory.”

“Well, I don’t mind helping you,” answered Blackall, carelessly, eyeing, however, Ernest and Buttar, for both of whom he had an especial dislike.

“That won’t do,” observed Buttar, who was one of the captains of his party. “Stay, I’ll get Lemon to join us. He won’t mind taking a hoop-stick to help us; and he, and you, and I, together with a few other good fellows and true, will be able to hold our own against Dawson and Tommy, even though they have Bully Blackall with them.”

Buttar soon found Miles Lemon, who, though he was reading an interesting book, jumped up with the most good-natured alacrity, and undertook to act as the leader of their party.

“Oh, you fellows were afraid to take care of yourselves!” exclaimed Blackall, when he saw Lemon and Buttar approaching. “Well, we will see what we can do.”

There were full thirty boys on each side—nearly half the school. None of the bigger boys, of course, condescended to play with hoops. Blackall and Lemon, indeed, made it understood that they only joined as leaders, and on no account for their own amusement, while there were a good many small boys who were considered too weak to take part in so rough a sport. The armies were drawn up in double line, one at each end of the gravel playground. At a signal given, they rushed forward to the deadly strife, some striking away at their heavy hoops with all their might, and using clubs rather than hoop-sticks. Ernest offered a great contrast to those heavy chargers. He entered the battle with his light hoop and hoop-stick, and when the signal was given, rushed forward in the van to commence the strife. On came Blackall, highly indignant to see a new boy taking the lead in so prominent a way. He struck his hoop with a force sufficient to overthrow not only Ernest’s hoop, but Ernest himself; but the young champion knew well what he was about. Instead of waiting for the blow, by a dexterous turn he brought the edge of his light hoop against the side of Blackall’s, which went reeling away among the following crowd, and was instantly upset. Ernest was in time to treat another hoop of the second line in the same fashion, and then he sprang on with a shout of victory to the end of the ground. Several times the two parties changed sides, and each time five or six hoops went down, sometimes more. It was a regular tournament, such as was fought by the knights of old, only hoops were used instead of horses, and hoop-sticks in lieu of lances; but the spirit which animated the breasts of the combatants was the same, and probably it was enjoyed as keenly. Blackall stood on one side, eyeing with revengeful feelings the success which attended Ernest wherever he moved. Backwards and forwards he went; and although constantly charged and marked out for destruction by the biggest fellows on the opposite side, always avoiding them, and seldom failing to strike down one or more hoops in every course. Blackall could not understand how it was. He was not aware what a well-practised eye, good nerves, and a firm will could accomplish. Ernest’s father had instilled into him the principle, that whatever is worth doing at all, is worth doing as well as it can be done. So, when he took a hoop in his hand, he considered how he could use it to the best advantage; and from the first, he never played with it without endeavouring to perfect himself in some method of turning it here or there, of stopping it suddenly, or of twirling it round.

A second time that day did Ernest’s party come off victorious. Some said that it was owing to Lemon having joined them: but Lemon himself confessed that he had not done half as much execution as had young Bracebridge. From that day Lemon noticed Ernest in a very marked way, and when he spoke to him treated him as an equal in age. Some of his first companions declared that, to a certainty, Bracebridge would be very much cocked up by the attention shown him; but they were mistaken, for he pursued the even tenor of his way without showing that he by any means thought himself superior to his companions.

The Easter holidays arrived. Those who lived near enough to the school went home; but as the boys were generally collected from widely separated parts of England, Scotland, and Ireland, the greater number remained. They had greater liberty than at any other time, and were allowed to make long excursions with one of the masters, or with some of the bigger boys who, from their good principles and steadiness, were considered fit to be entrusted with them. Lemon was high enough in the school to have that honour, and so Ernest and Buttar always endeavoured to belong to his party. Lemon was very glad to have them, as he found them more companionable than many of the bigger fellows, and he had no difficulty in keeping them in order. Tom Bouldon was also frequently of their party. He had tried others, but after some experience he found their society by far the most satisfactory. Blackall, although a bully, stood pretty well with the masters. He had cleverness sufficient to get through his lessons with credit, and he had sense enough to keep himself out of mischief generally. Doctor Carr now and then had uncomfortable feelings about him. He was not altogether satisfied with his plausible answers; nor did he like the expression of his countenance, that almost sure indicator of the mind within. Still the Doctor hoped that he might be mistaken, and did not forbid Blackall, who was appointed to the office by one of the masters, to take out a party of youngsters. Far better would it have been for the boys had they been kept shut up within the walls of the school-room on the finest days of the year than have been allowed to go out with such an associate. Blackall wanted to be considered a man, and he thought the sure way to become so was to imitate the vices and bad habits of men. Too well do I remember the poison he poured into the ears of his attentive and astonished hearers. About five miles off there was a village with a few small shops in it. One of them contained books and stationery, and cigars and snuff. It was much patronised by Blackall, not for the former, but for the latter articles. He thought it very manly not only to have his cigar-case, but his snuff-box. Lemon never failed to ridicule him to the other boys for his affectation of manliness. He did this to prevent them from following so pernicious an example.

“See that fellow, now, making a chimney of his mouth and a dust-hole of his nose,” observed Lemon, when one day he and his party passed him, with several of his companions, lying on the grass on a hill side, three or four miles from the school. Blackall had a huge cigar in his mouth, and a small boy sat near him, looking pale as death, and evidently suffering dreadfully.