The Adventures of Mr. Verdant Green | Page 5

enough, in Mrs. Green's eyes,
to make a too intimate acquaintance between her boy and Master
Larkyns a thing by no means to be desired. With her favourite poet she
would say,
"For public schools, 'tis public folly feeds;"
and, regarding them as the very hotbeds of all that is wrong, she would

turn a deaf, though polite, ear to the rector whenever he said, "Why
don't you let your Verdant go with my Charley? Charley is three years
older than Verdant, and would take him under his wing." Mrs. Green
would as soon think of putting one of her chickens under the wing of a
hawk, as intrusting the innocent Verdant to the care of the scapegrace
Charley; so she still persisted in her own system of education, despite
all that the rector could advise to the contrary.
[12 ADVENTURES OF MR. VERDANT GREEN]
As for Master Verdant, he was only too glad at his mother's decision,
for he partook of all her alarm about public schools, though from a
different cause. It was not very often that he visited at the Rectory
during Master Charley's holidays; but when he did, that young
gentleman favoured him with such accounts of the peculiar knack the
second master possessed of finding out all your tenderest places when
he licked a feller for a false quantity, that, by Jove! you couldn't sit
down for a fortnight without squeaking; and of the jolly mills they used
to have with the town cads, who would lie in wait for you, and half kill
you if they caught you alone; and of the fun it was to make a junior
form fag for you, and do all your dirty work; - that Master Verdant's
hair would almost stand on end at such horrors, and he would gasp for
very dread lest such should ever be ~his~ dreadful doom.
And then Master Charley would take a malicious pleasure in consoling
him, by saying, "Of course, you know, you'll only have to fag for the
first two or three years; then - if you get into the fourth form - you'll be
able to have a fag for yourself. And it's awful fun, I can tell you, to see
the way some of the fags get riled at cricket! You get a feller to give
you a few balls, just for practice, and you hit the ball into another
feller's ground; and then you tell your fag to go and pick it up. So he
goes to do it, when the other feller sings out, 'Don't touch that ball, or
I'll lick you!' So you tell the fag to come to you, and you say, 'Why
don't you do as I tell you?' And he says, 'Please, sir!' and then the little
beggar blubbers. So you say to him, 'None of that, sir! Touch your
toes!' We always make 'em wear straps on purpose. And then his
trousers go tight and beautiful, and you take out your strap and warm

him! And then he goes to get the ball, and the other feller sings out, 'I
told you to let that ball alone! Come here, sir! Touch your toes!' So he
warms him too; and then we go on all jolly. It's awful fun, I can tell
you!"
Master Verdant would think it awful indeed; and, by his own fireside,
would recount the deeds of horror to his trembling mother and sisters,
whose imagination shuddered at the scenes from which they hoped
their darling would be preserved.
Perhaps Master Charley had his own reasons for making matters worse
than they really were; but, as long as the information he derived
concerning public schools was of this description, so long did Master
Verdant Green feel thankful at being kept away from them. He had a
secret dread, too, of his friend's superior age and knowledge; and in his
presence felt a bashful awe that made him glad to get back from the
Rectory to his own sisters; while Master Charley, on the other hand,
entertained a lad's contempt for one that could not fire
[AN OXFORD FRESHMAN 13]
off a gun, or drive a cricket-ball, or jump a ditch without falling into it.
So the Rectory and the Manor Green lads saw but very little of each
other; and while the one went through his public-school course, the
other was brought up at the women's apron-string.
But though thus put under petticoat government, Mr. Verdant Green
was not altogether freed from those tyrants of youth, - the dead
languages. His aunt Virginia was as learned a Blue as her esteemed
ancestress in the court of Elizabeth, the very Virgin Queen of Blues;
and under her guidance Master Verdant was dragged with painful
diligence through the first steps of the road