Louis School Days | Page 6

Louis felt great pity for the boy, who turned whiter still, and then
flushed up, as if ready to burst into tears.
"Well, Louis, I wish to see what rank you will be able to take," said the
doctor, and he proceeded with his examination.

"Humph!" he ejaculated at length, "pretty well--you may try in the
second class. I can tell you that you must put your shoulder to the
wheel, and make the most of your powers, or you will soon be obliged
to leave it for a less honorable post; but let me see what you can
do--and now put these books away on that shelf." As he spoke, the
doctor pointed to a vacant place on one of the shelves that lined two
sides of the study, and left the room. Louis put the books away, and
then returned to the school-room, where he sought his brother, and
communicated his news just before the general uproar attendant on the
close of afternoon school commenced.
Reginald was one of the most noisy and eager in his preparations for
play; and, dragging Louis along with him, bounded into the fresh air,
with that keen feeling of enjoyment which the steady industrious
school-boy knows by experience.
"What a nice play-ground this is!" said Louis.
"Capital!" said Reginald. "What's the fun, Frank?" he cried to his
cousin, who bounded past him at this moment, towards a spot already
tolerably crowded.
"Maister Dunn," shouted Frank.
"Oh, the old cake-man, Louis," said Reginald; "I must go and get rid of
a few surplus pence."
"Do you like to spend your money in cakes?" asked Louis; "I have
plenty, Mrs. Colthrop took care of that."
"In that case I'll save for next time," said Reginald, "but let's go and see
what's going on."
Accordingly Reginald ran off in the cake-man's direction. Louis
followed, and presently found himself standing in the outer circle of a
group of his school-fellows, who formed a thick wall round a
white-haired old man and a boy, both of whom carried a basket on each
arm, filled with dainties always acceptable to a school-boy's palate.

[Illustration: Maister Dunn.]
Were I inclined to moralize, I might here make a few remarks on waste
of money, &c., but my business being merely to relate incidents at
present, I shall only say that there they stood, the old man and his
assistant, with the boys in constant motion and murmur around them.
Frank Digby and Hamilton were in the outer circle, the latter having
walked from a direction opposite to that from which Frank and
Reginald came, but whose dignity did not prevent a certain desire to
purchase if he saw fit, and if not, to amuse himself with those who did
so. He stood watching the old man with an imperturbable air of gravity,
and, hanging on his arm in a state of listless apathy, stood Trevannion,
another member of the first class.
Frank Digby took too active a share in most things in the establishment
to remain a passive spectator of the actions of others, and began
pushing right and left. "Get along, get away ye vagabonds!" he politely
cried: "you little shrimps! what business have you to stop the
way?--Alfred, you ignoramus! Alfred, why don't you move?"
"Because I'm buying something," said the little boy addressed, looking
up very quietly at the imperious intruder.
"Da locum melioribus, Alfred, as the poet has it. Do you know where to
find that, my boy?--the first line of the thirteenth book of the Aeneid,
being a speech of the son of Anchises to the Queen of Carthage. You'll
find a copy of Virgil's works in my desk."
"I don't mean to look," said Alfred, "I know it's in the Delectus."
"Wonderful memory!--I admire that delectable book of yours," cried
Frank, who talked on without stopping, while forcing himself to the
first rank. "How now, Maister Dunn!" he said, addressing the old man,
"I hope you b'aint a going to treat us as e did last time. You must be
reasonable; the money market is in a sadly unflourishing condition at
present."

"You always talk of the money market, Frank," said little Alfred: "what
do you mean by the money market?"
"It's a place, my dear--I'll explain it in a moment. Here, Maister
Dunn;--It's a place where the old women sell sovereigns a penny a
measure, Alfred."
"Oh, Frank!" exclaimed Alfred.
"Oh! and why not?" said Frank; "do you mean to say you don't believe
me? That's it,--isn't it, maister?"
"Ah, Maister Digby! ye're at yer jokes," said the old man.
"Jokes!" said Frank, with a serious air. "Pray, Mr. Dunn, did you ever
happen to notice certain brass, or copper, or bronze tables, four in
number, in front of the Bristol Exchange!"
"Ay sure, maister!"
"Well,