Ernest Bracebridge

Ernest Bracebridge, by William
H. G. Kingston

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Title: Ernest Bracebridge School Days
Author: William H. G. Kingston
Illustrator: W Thomas
Release Date: May 15, 2007 [EBook #21452]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
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BRACEBRIDGE ***

Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England

Ernest Bracebridge, School Days
by William H G Kingston

CHAPTER ONE.
THE SCHOOL, THE MASTER, AND HIS BOYS.
It was a half-holiday. One of our fellows who had lately taken his
degree and passed as Senior Wrangler had asked it for us. He had just
come down for a few hours to see the Doctor and the old place. How
we cheered him! How proudly the Doctor looked at him! What a great
man we thought him! He was a great man! for he had won a great
victory,--not only over his fellow-men, not only over his books, by
compelling them to give up the knowledge they contained,--but over
his love of pleasure; over a tendency to indolence; over his temper and
passions; and now Henry Martin was able to commence the earnest
struggle of life with the consciousness, which of itself gives strength,
that he had obtained the most important of all victories--that over self.
There he stood, surrounded by some of the bigger boys who had been
at school with him; a pleasant smile on his countenance as he looked
about him on the old familiar scenes. Then he shook hands with the
fellows standing near him, and we all cheered again louder than ever.
He thanked us, and said that he hoped he should often meet many of us
in the world, and that he should always look back with pleasure to the
days he had spent in that place. At last he once more waved his hand
and went back into the house.
The instant dinner was over, out we all rushed into the playground.
Those were happy times when, directly after it, we could stand on our
heads, play high-cock-o'lorum, or hang by our heels from the cross-bars
of our gymnastic poles without the slightest inconvenience.
Our school was a good one; I ought to speak well of it. I have, indeed, a
very small opinion of a boy who does not think highly and speak highly
of his own school, and feel thoroughly identified with it, provided it is
a good one. Our school, at all events, was first-rate, and so was our
master. We were proud of him, and believed firmly that there were very
few men in England, or in the world, for that matter, who were equal to
him. He won the affections of all of us, and as it seemed, with

wonderful ease. How he did it we did not trouble ourselves to consider.
I have since, however, often thought over the subject, and have had no
difficulty in guessing the cause of his influence. He was a ripe scholar,
and thoroughly understood what he professed to teach: then he was
always just, and although he was strict, and could be very severe on
occasions, he was one of the kindest-hearted men I ever met. We all
thought so; and boys are not bad judges of their elders. He was a tall,
fine man, with a florid complexion. His eyes were large and clear, and
full of intelligence and expression. And then his voice!--how rich and
mellow it sounded when he exerted it. His smile, too, was particularly
pleasing; and, old as he was, at least as we thought him, he entered
heartily into many of our games and amusements; and it was a fine
thing to see him stand up with a bat in his hand, and send the ball flying
over the hedge into the other field. He had been a great cricketer at
College, and had generally been one of the eleven when any University
match was played, so we heard; and that made him encourage all sorts
of sports and pastimes. He pulled a capital oar; and we heard that he
had been very great at football, though he had long since given up
playing: indeed, I doubt if there was any game which he had not played
well, and could not still play better than most people, had he chosen.
Such was Doctor Carr--the Doctor, as we called him--of Grafton Hall.
Grafton Hall was a fine old place, situated on a healthy spot, and
surrounded by good-sized grounds: