Memoir of a Brother. Thomas Smart Hughes

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Название Memoir of a Brother
Автор произведения Thomas Smart Hughes
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isbn 4064066122874



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what were the contents of the remaining drawers in the wonderful Indian cabinet. Our grandmother sent her the letters, and in due time we received the following reply:—

      “Edgeworth’s Town, July 20th, 1828.

      “To my dear young readers, George and Thomas Hughes.

      “I am glad that you can write as well as read; your two letters were both very well written, and I had pleasure in reading them. I am glad that you like Harry and Lucy and Frank and Rosamond. I wish I could tell you anything more that would entertain you about the other nine drawers of the India cabinet; but what I am going to tell you will disappoint you I daresay, and I cannot help it. When Rosamond opened the 4th drawer she found in it—nothing—but a sheet of white paper at the bottom of the drawer, and on the paper was written only the word China. The writing was in a large round hand, like that in which your letter to me was written. Rosamond shut this drawer and opened the next, which was the 5th—empty! On the paper at the bottom of this drawer, in the same handwriting, was Constantinople. The 6th, the 7th, the 8th which she opened, one after another as fast as she could, were all empty! On the paper in the 6th drawer, which was very deep, was written—The North Pole and Iceland—Norway—Sweden and Lapland. In the 8th drawer was written Rome and Naples—Mount Vesuvius and Pompeii. At the bottom of the 9th drawer, Persia—Arabia and India.

      “Then on the paper in the 9th drawer was written in small-hand and cramped writing without lines, and as crookedly as might be expected from a first attempt without lines, what follows:—

      “ ‘I, little Matt, (which is short for Matthew), promise my dear good kindest of all aunts, Aunt Egerton, whom I love best in the world, that when I am grown up quite to be a great man, and when I go upon my travels as I intend to do when I am old enough and have money enough, I will bring her home all the greatest curiosities I can find for her in every country for these drawers. I have written in them the names of the countries I intend to visit, therefore I beg my dear aunt will never put anything in these 9 drawers till my curiosities come home. I will unpack them myself. N. B.—I have begun this morning to make a list from my book of travels and voyages of all the curiosities I think worthy my bringing home for the India cabinet.’ (M. E.—A true copy.)

      “My dear young readers, this is all I know about the matter. I am sorry I can tell you no more; but to no one else have I ever told so much. This letter is all for yourselves—from one who would like to see you very much, and who hopes that you would like her too if you knew her, though you might not like her at first sight; for she is neither young nor pretty, but an old good-natured friend,

      (Signed) “Maria Edgeworth.”

      In the winter, before we went to school first, we were left alone at home, for the first time, while our parents paid some visits. George was left in charge of the house (under the governess), with injunctions to see that all things went on regularly in the village. Our mother’s Saturday clothing club was to be held as usual, and we were not to neglect either the poor, or the birds, who were fed daily through the winter on a table on the lawn, just outside the dining-room window. The following letter will show you how conscientiously the trust was fulfilled:—

      “January 21st, 1830.

      “Dear Mama,

      “We are all well, and quite free from colds. All the people brought their money correctly last Saturday. Tims had his chimney began more than a week ago, and no doubt it is finished by this time. I have told cook about making broth and gruel for any who are sick. We constantly feed all your birds, and they eat as much as would give baby two meals. We shall be glad to see you and Papa.

      “I am, your dutiful son,

      “George Hughes.”

      One other letter I will give to amuse you. You elder boys will say, that if he hadn’t learnt to answer questions better when he went to school, he would never have taken a high degree at Oxford:—

      “January 26th, 1830.

      “My dear Mama,

      “We thank you for the conundrums you sent us, and I think we have found out two of them:—‘If all the letters were asked out to dinner, which of them would not go?’ The one that asked them would not go. ‘What thing is that which lights the eyes, yet never fails to blind?’ The sun. You must tell us when you write whether these are right or not. We cannot find out the other one. Give my love to papa, and tell him that I will write to him next week. We shall be delighted to see you home again. I think I am going on well with my Latin, and I hope Papa will be satisfied with me.

      “I am, your affectionate son,

      “George Hughes.”

      We went to school together, in the autumn of this year, at Twyford, near Winchester. On the way there we stayed a few days at Lyndhurst, in the New Forest, at the house of an old naval officer. He had another house near us in Berkshire, our favourite resort, as there were several little girls in the family of our own age, all very pretty. One of these little ladies took a fancy to some water-flower, as we were walking in the forest, the day before the school met. Without saying a word, George just jumped into the pond, and fetched it for her; thereby ruining a new suit of clothes (as your grandmother remarked) and risking his life, for there was no one but a nurse with us, and it was just as likely that the pond might be out of his depth as not. However, as it happened, no harm came of it, and we went on next day to Twyford.

       RUGBY.

       Table of Contents

      We stayed at Twyford till the end of 1833, when our father resolved to send us to Rugby. Dr. Arnold had been a little his junior at Oriel; and, though considerably exercised by the Doctor’s politics, he shared that unhesitating faith in his character and ability which seems to have inspired all his contemporaries. In the meantime George had gone up rapidly into the highest form at Twyford, amongst boys two years older than himself, and generally carried off not only prizes for the school work but for all kinds of gymnastics. Twyford was a little before its time in this respect, as we had quite a number of gymnastic poles of different kinds in the playground, upon which we had regular lessons under a master who came over from Winchester. Every half-year we had a gymnastic examination, attended by the master’s daughters, and a lady or two from the neighbourhood, who distributed the prizes (plates of fruit and cake) at the end of the day to the successful boys. One special occasion I well remember, in which the excitement ran particularly high. A new prize for vaulting was to be given, not for the common style “which any boy could do,” our master said; but for vaulting between the hands. I don’t want any of you to try it, for it is a dangerous exercise, and I wonder that some of us did not break our necks in attempting it. You had to place both your hands on the back of the vaulting horse, as far apart, or as near together, as you liked, and then spring over between them without lifting either, even for half an inch. Of course none but long-armed boys could do it at all; but there were enough of these for a large entry. Very soon, however, one after another fell out, either for touching with their feet, or shifting a hand during the vault; and George and a very active boy, a great friend of ours in after years, Charles Mansfield by name, were left alone. They two went on springing over the horse, without the least touch of foot or shifting of hand, until it was at last voted by acclamation that they should divide the great plate of grapes, apples, and sponge cakes, which stood ready for the winner.

      But I must not tell you so much of all his successes in athletic games. These things are made too much of nowadays, until the training and competitions for them outrun all rational bounds. What I want to show you is, that while he was far more distinguished in these than any of you are at all likely to be (or indeed, as things stand, than I for one should wish you to be), he never neglected the real purpose of a schoolboy’s life for them, as you will see from some of his early letters from Rugby to which school we went in February 1834, when he was only twelve years old. These are all addressed to his father and mother, and generally