My Friend Smith | Page 5

my long drive with Mrs Hudson to Stonebridge.
Mrs Hudson had been my nurse ever since I could remember, and now
the poor old soul and I were to part for good. For she was to see me
safely inside the doors of Stonebridge House, and then go back, not to
my uncle's (where she would no longer be needed), but to her own
home. Of course she was very much depressed by the prospect, and so
indeed was I. For a good while we neither of us said much. Then, by
way of changing the subject and beguiling the way, she began to
address to me long and solemn exhortations as to my conduct at the
new school. She knew as much about "schools for backward and
troublesome boys" as I did; but that was no matter.
She made me promise, for one thing, that I would make a point of
wearing a clean collar three times a week; and, for another, of calling
the housekeeper's attention to the very first sign of a hole in my socks.
(As my socks, by the way, usually showed the daylight in upon six out
of the ten toes, and one out of the two heels every time I took off my
boots, I was promising a lot when I made this bargain!) Further, I was
to see my Sunday clothes were always hung on pegs, and not laid in

drawers; and my blue necktie, mind, was not to be touched till my
black- and-pink was past work.
From these matters she passed on to my conduct towards my new
masters and companions.
"Mind and always tell them the truth straight out, Freddy," she said,
"and say `sir' whenever you speak to Mr Ladislaw--and say your
prayers regularly night and day, won't you? and be very careful to use
your own comb and brush, and not lend them about to the other young
gentlemen."
Mrs Hudson, you see, had an easy way of flying from one topic to
another. Her exhortations were crowded with pieces of good advice,
which may have sounded funny when all strung together, but were each
of them admirable taken separately. I of course promised her
everything.
The journey was a long one, but the day was bright, and we had a good
basketful of provender, so it was not tedious. At length the driver
turned round, and said we should come in sight of Stonebridge at the
next turn of the road.
My spirits began to sink for the first time. Dismal and all as
Brownstroke had been, how did I know I should not be happier there,
after all, than at this strange new place, where I knew no one? I wished
the driver wouldn't go so fast. Mrs Hudson saw my emotion, I think, for
she once more opened fire, and, so to speak, gathered up the last
crumbs of her good counsel.
"Oh, and Freddy dear," fumbling nervously in her pocket, and letting
down her veil, "write and tell me what they give you to eat; remember,
pork's bad for you, and leave your cuffs behind when you go out bird's-
nesting and all that. Mind, I'll expect to hear about everything,
especially about whether you get warm baths pretty regularly, and if Mr
Ladislaw is a good Christian man--and look here, dear," she continued
hurriedly, producing a little parcel from the depths of her pocket,
"you're not to open this till I'm away, and be sure to take care of it, and

don't--"
"That there chimbley," interrupted the driver at this stage, "is the fust
'ouse in Stonebridge."
Five minutes later we were standing in the hall of Stonebridge House.
It didn't look much like a school, I remember thinking. It was a large
straggling building, rather like a farmhouse, with low ceilings and
rickety stairs. The outside was neat, but not very picturesque, and the
front garden seemed to have about as much grass in it as the stairs had
carpets. As we stood waiting for some one to answer our ring, I listened
nervously, I remember, for any sound or trace of my fellow "backward
and troublesome boys," but the school appeared to be confined to one
of the long straggling wings behind, and not to encroach on the state
portion of the house.
After a second vigorous pull at the bell by our coachman, a stern and
scraggy female put in her appearance.
"Is this Frederick Batchelor?" she inquired, in tones which put my
juvenile back up instantly.
"Yes, this is Master Freddy," put in the nervous Mrs Hudson, anxious
to conciliate every one on my behalf. "Freddy, dear, say--"
"Is that his box?" continued the stern dame.
"Yes," said Mrs Hudson, feeling rather chilled; "that's his box."
"Nothing else?"
"No, except