Quicksilver | Page 7

arisen, and it would have been formed of two words--"Take me."
It was considered a model workhouse school, too, one of which the guardians were proud. There was no tyranny, no brutality, but there was endless drill and discipline, and not a scrap of that for which every boy's heart naturally yearns;--"Home, sweet home."
No amount of management can make that and deck it with a mother's love; and it must have been the absence of these elements which made the Coleby boys look like three hundred white-faced small old men.
"Now, let me see, sir," said the master; "of course the matter will have to be laid before the Board in the usual form, but you will make your selection now. Good light, sir, to choose."
Mr Hippetts did not mean it unkindly; but he too spoke as if he were busy over some goods he had to sell.
"Let me see. Ah! Coggley, stand out."
Coggley, a very thin boy of thirteen, a little more whitewashy than the rest, stood out, and made a bow as if he were wiping his nose with his right hand, and then curving it out at the doctor.
He was a nice, sad-looking boy, with railways across his forehead, and a pinched-in nose; but he was very thin, and showed his shirt between the top of his trousers and the bottom of his waistcoat, instead of upon his chest, while it was from growth, not vanity, that he showed so much ankle and wrist.
"Very good boy, sir. Had more marks than any one of his age last year."
"Won't do," said the doctor shortly.
"Too thin," said Mr Hippetts to himself. "Bunce!" he shouted.
Bunce stood out, or rather waddled forth, a stoutly-made boy with short legs,--a boy who, if ever he had a chance, would grow fat and round, with eyes like two currants, and a face like a bun.
Bunce made a bow like a scoop upside down.
"Another excellent boy, sir," said Mr Hippetts. "I haven't a fault to find with him. He is now twelve years old, and he--"
"Won't do," said the doctor crossly.
"Go back, Bunce," cried the master. "Pillett, stand out. Now here, sir, is a lad whom I am sure you will like. Writes a hand like copperplate. Age thirteen, and very intelligent."
Pillett came forward eagerly, after darting a triumphant look at Coggley and Bunce. He was a wooden-faced boy, who seemed to have hard brains and a soft head, for his forehead looked nubbly, and there were rounded off corners at the sides.
"Let Dr Grayson hear you say--"
"No, no, Hippetts; this is not an examination," cried the doctor testily. "That is not the sort of boy I want. He must be a bright, intelligent lad, whom I can adopt and take into my house. I shall treat him exactly as if he were my own son, and if he is a good lad, it will be the making of him."
"Oh! I see, sir," said Mr Hippetts importantly. "Go back, Pillett. I have the very boy. Gloog!"
Pillett went back, and furtively held up his fist at triumphant Gloog, who came out panting as if he had just been running fast, and as soon as he had made the regulation bow, he, from old force of habit, wiped his nose on his cuff.
"No, no, no, no," cried the doctor, without giving the lad a second glance, the first at his low, narrow forehead and cunning cast of features being quite enough.
"But this is an admirably behaved boy, sir," protested Mr Hippetts. "Mr Sibery here can speak very highly of his qualifications."
"Oh yes, sir," put in the schoolmaster with a severe smile and a distant bow, for he felt annoyed at not being consulted.
"Yes, yes," said the doctor; "but not my style of boy."
"Might I suggest one, sir!" said Mr Sibery deferentially, as he glanced at the king who reigned over the whole building.
"To be sure," said the doctor. "You try."
Mr Hippetts frowned, and Mr Sibery wished he had not spoken; but the dark look on the master's brow gave place to an air of triumph as the schoolmaster introduced seven boys, one after the other, to all of whom the visitor gave a decided negative.
"Seems a strange thing," he said, "that out of three hundred boys you cannot show one I like."
"But all these are excellent lads, sir," said the master deprecatingly.
"Humph!"
"Best of characters."
"Humph!"
"Our own training, sir. Mr Sibery has spared no pains, and I have watched over the boys' morals."
"Yes, I dare say. Of course. Here, what boy's that?"
He pointed with his cane to a pair of round blue eyes, quite at the back.
"That, sir--that lame boy!"
"No, no; that young quicksilver customer with the curly poll."
"Oh! that, sir! He wouldn't do," cried the two masters almost in a breath.
"How do you know!" said the doctor tartly.
"Very bad boy