Part 28 (1/2)
”I don't fancy buying friends in that way,” answered Digby, laughing; ”I should not trust much to a fellow who said he was my friend for a piece of cake or a spoonful of jam. If anybody else offered him a bigger piece, or more jam, he would very quickly leave me. I like fellows not for what they have got, but for what they are; and I want to be liked for the same reason myself.”
”Oh, I see that you are a radical,” said Spiller, sneeringly; ”those are regular chartists' sentiments; but they won't go down with me, let me tell you.”
Digby burst out into a regular fit of laughter.
”Well, I never should have supposed that it could be considered radical to like a fellow with a number of good qualities who was poor, in preference to a bad fellow who happened to be rich. I must repeat it, that I hope to find friends among the boys here, whom I shall like for their good qualities.”
”As you please,” remarked Spiller; ”of course I can't force you to do as I recommend; but if, on thinking the matter over, you change your mind, come to me and I will help you. Those are my principles; I'm not ashamed of them, let me tell you.”
What Spiller meant by his principles, Digby could not tell. Perhaps he might have explained more clearly, but he saw Paul Newland approaching, and he knew that he must abandon his designs for the present on Digby's strong box.
Digby told Paul how he had managed Spiller.
”Capital,” exclaimed Paul. ”I wish that we could get rid of all the disagreeable fellows in the school as easily as you have, for the present, of Spiller; but I want to tell you to be on your guard against that big bully, Scarborough. The fellows were talking about you just now, and mentioning the plucky way in which you behaved last night; instead of saying, as I am sure he ought, that you acted very rightly, he sneered and vowed that he would very soon take the pride out of you.”
”Let him try, if he wishes,” answered Digby, not particularly alarmed, for he never had been imbued with any especial dread of big fellows; his fearlessness, however, in reality, arose from his want of experience of the evil they had the power of inflicting; ”if he knocks my nose off, he certainly will prevent me from feeling proud of my face, but otherwise, I don't see how he can very well alter my character.”
Paul thought Digby a perfect hero, and wished for the time when he would be big enough to be c.o.c.k of the school. While they were speaking, Scarborough lounged by with his hand on the shoulder of another fellow, very much of his own character. There is a great similarity in the look of all bullies, not so much in figure as in expression of countenance; some are big, burly fellows, like Scarborough, others are tall and thin.
Of course, they all have more or less physical strength; some are dark and some are fair, but they one and all have an inexpressible resemblance to each other. Scarborough pa.s.sed close to Digby, and as he did so he put out his foot, and tried to trip him up; but Digby observed the action, and, guessing the intention, jumped off the ground, and escaped even being touched. He felt inclined to make some remark, but he restrained his temper, and left the bully without any excuse for picking a quarrel with him. Scarborough strolled to the end of the playground, and when he came back, he stopped, and looking hard at Digby, said--
”I suppose you are the new fellow who is going to do such mighty things in the school--well, I want you to understand that I shall not allow you to play any of your tricks with me; remember that.”
Digby looked at the bully very steadily; he felt that he ought to answer him, if he could do so, quietly, so he said--
”I don't know of any tricks which I wish to play; but if you will just tell me what you don't like of what I have done, or have been said to have done, I will do my best not to offend you.”
”It's very well for you to talk in that way,” said the bully, disarmed for the moment; for even he could not venture to thrash a fellow without some pretext; ”just remember to keep up to it, or you'll find yourself in the wrong box with me, my lad, that's all.”
With this ambiguous threat, the bully moved on.
”Well done again,” exclaimed little Paul, who had been trembling with alarm all the time for the result of the meeting; ”he won't let you off without many another attack; but manage him as you have already done, and I do not think that he will annoy you much.”
The moment the dinner-bell rang, there was another general rush into the dining-room. This was that the first comers might secure the best pieces of bread and mugs of beer, arranged up and down the tables.
Digby found only half a mugful of beer and a very small piece of bread remaining to his share; but he was not at all put out, and made no remark, resolving another day to be earlier in the field.
Grangewood School had existed for a number of years, and things were carried on there very much in the old-fas.h.i.+oned style in most respects.
Mr Sanford was a very good scholar and a gentleman, but he had no talent for the economical arrangements of a school. It is a favourite saying with some people, that boys are better fed than taught. He had resolved that, as far as he had the power, they should be well taught; but it did not occur to him, that it was inc.u.mbent on him to see that they were well fed and well looked after.
Mrs Pike was, fortunately for him, a conscientious person; but her notions were somewhat antiquated. She wished to attend to his interests, and she was not aware that they and those of the boys were identical; that is to say, that if the boys were thoroughly looked after, well fed as well as well taught, brought up as Christians and gentlemen, the school would flourish; and that if the boys were badly and coa.r.s.ely fed and treated, and neglected, the school would go down-hill.
Digby was very hungry; the novelty of his position did not spoil his appet.i.te. He turned his head in the direction of the table at which Mrs Pike, supported by Mr Yates, usually sat to superintend the serving out of provender, to see what was coming. Some huge dishes piled up with large white b.a.l.l.s were brought in, and plates, containing half of one of the b.a.l.l.s, were in succession thumped down before each of the boys. Digby turned over the ma.s.s with his fork to discover the contents, but finding nothing but a ma.s.s of dough and a strong smell of beer, he put it down; and when one of the maid-servants came by, held out his plate, and quietly said, that he would rather have meat before pudding. The maid-servant, who was not Susan, or she might have whispered a bit of good advice, seized his plate, and going up with it to Mrs Pike, said in a loud voice, so that all might hear:--
”The new boy, Master Digby Heathcote, marm, says that he likes meat before pudding.”
Mrs Pike cast a withering glance at Digby; such a piece of insubordination had not been met with for a long time to her authority.
”We here give pudding before meat, young gentleman, if it suits us,” she exclaimed, in a dictatorial tone; ”if you do not choose to eat such excellent pudding as this is, you can have no meat. Take it back to him, Jane.”
Again the plate was placed before him.