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Doctor Birch And His Young Friends
by
The only time that woman is happy is when she comes in of a morning to the little boys’ dormitories with a cup of hot Epsom salts, and a sippet of bread. Boo!–the very notion makes me quiver. She stands over them. I saw her do it to young Byles only a few days since; and her presence makes the abomination doubly abominable.
As for attending them in real illness, do you suppose that she would watch a single night for any one of them? Not she. When poor little Charley Davison (that child a lock of whose soft hair I have said how Miss Raby still keeps) lay ill of scarlet fever in the holidays–for the Colonel, the father of these boys, was in India–it was Anne Raby who tended the child, who watched him all through the fever, who never left him while it lasted, or until she had closed the little eyes that were never to brighten or moisten more. Anny watched and deplored him; but it was Miss Birch who wrote the letter announcing his demise, and got the gold chain and locket which the Colonel ordered as a memento of his gratitude. It was through a row with Miss Birch that Frank Davison ran away. I promise you that after he joined his regiment in India, the Ahmednuggur Irregulars, which his gallant father commands, there came over no more annual shawls and presents to Dr. and Miss Birch; and that if she fancied the Colonel was coming home to marry her (on account of her tenderness to his motherless children, which he was always writing about), THAT notion was very soon given up. But these affairs are of early date, seven years back, and I only heard of them in a very confused manner from Miss Raby, who was a girl, and had just come to Rodwell Regis. She is always very much moved when she speaks about those boys; which is but seldom. I take it the death of the little one still grieves her tender heart.
Yes, it is Miss Birch, who has turned away seventeen ushers and second-masters in eleven years, and half as many French masters, I suppose, since the departure of her FAVORITE, M. Grinche, with her gold watch, etc. but this is only surmise–that is, from hearsay, and from Miss Rosa taunting her aunt, as she does sometimes, in her graceful way: but besides this, I have another way of keeping her in order.
Whenever she is particularly odious or insolent to Miss Raby, I have but to introduce raspberry jam into the conversation, and the woman holds her tongue. She will understand me. I need not say more.
NOTE, 12th December. I MAY speak now. I have left the place and don’t mind. I say then at once, and without caring twopence for the consequences, that I saw this woman, this MOTHER of the boys, EATING JAM WITH A SPOON OUT OF MASTER WIGGINS’S TRUNK IN THE BOX-ROOM: and of this I am ready to take an affidavit any day.
A TRAGEDY.
THE DRAMA OUGHT TO BE REPRESENTED IN ABOUT SIX ACTS.
[The school is hushed. LAWRENCE the Prefect, and Custos of the rods, is marching after the DOCTOR into the operating-room. MASTER BACKHOUSE is about to follow.]
Master Backhouse.–It’s all very well, but you see if I don’t pay you out after school–you sneak you!
Master Lurcher.–If you do I’ll tell again. [Exit BACKHOUSE.
[The rod is heard from the adjoining apartment. Hwish–hwish–hwish–hwish–hwish–hwish–hwish! [Re-enter BACKHOUSE.
BRIGGS IN LUCK.
Enter the Knife-boy.–Hamper for Briggses! Master Brown.–Hurray, Tom Briggs! I’ll lend you my knife.
If this story does not carry its own moral, what fable does, I wonder? Before the arrival of that hamper, Master Briggs was in no better repute than any other young gentleman of the lower school; and in fact I had occasion myself, only lately, to correct Master Brown for kicking his friend’s shins during the writing-lesson. But how this basket, directed by his mother’s housekeeper and marked “Glass with care,” (whence I conclude that it contains some jam and some bottles of wine, probably, as well as the usual cake and game-pie, and half a sovereign for the elder Master B., and five new shillings for Master Decimus Briggs)–how, I say, the arrival of this basket alters all Master Briggs’s circumstances in life, and the estimation in which many persons regard him!