For Name and Fame | Page 9

as no one else agreed with her, she kept her thoughts to
herself.
The years passed on, and William Gale was now no longer in the
infants' ward, but took his place in the boys' school. Here he at once
showed an intelligence beyond that of the other boys of his own age.
The hours which he had, each day, spent in the porter's lodge had not
been wasted. The affection of the good woman had brightened his life,
and he had none of the dull, downcast look so common among children
in workhouses. She had encouraged him to talk and play, had taught
him the alphabet, and supplied him with an occasional picture book,
with easy words. Indeed, she devoted far more time to him than many

mothers, in her class of life, can give to their children.
The guardians, as they went in and out to board meeting, would delight
her by remarking:
"That is really a fine little fellow, Mrs. Dickson. He really does you
credit. A fine, sturdy, independent little chap."
The child, of course, wore the regular uniform of workhouse children;
but Mrs. Dickson--who was handy with her needle--used to cut and
alter the clothes to fit him, and thus entirely changed their appearance.
"He looks like a gentleman's child," one of the guardians said, one day.
"I believe he is a gentleman's child, sir. Look at his white skin; see how
upright he is, with his head far back, as if he was somebody. He is
different, altogether, from the run of them. I always said he came of
good blood, and I shall say so to my dying day."
"It may be so, Mrs. Dickson; but the woman who left him here, if I
remember right, did not look as if she had any good blood in her."
"Not likely, sir. She never came by him honestly, I am sure. I couldn't
have believed she was his mother, not if she had sworn to it with her
dying breath."
Mrs. Dickson's belief was not without influence upon the boy. When he
was old enough to understand, she told him the circumstances of his
having been found at the workhouse door, and of the discovery of the
woman who had brought him there; and impressed upon him her own
strong conviction that this was not his mother.
"I believe, Billy," she said, over and over again, "that your parents were
gentlefolk. Now mind, it does not make one bit of difference to you, for
it ain't likely you will ever hear of them. Still, please God, you may do
so; and it is for you to bear it in mind, and to act so as--if you were to
meet them--they need not be ashamed of you. You have got to earn
your living just like all the other boys here; but you can act right, and

straight, and honorable.
"Never tell a lie, Billy; not if it's to save yourself from being thrashed
ever so much. Always speak out manful, and straight, no matter what
comes of it. Don't never use no bad words, work hard at your books,
and try to improve yourself. Keep it always before you that you mean
to be a good man, and a gentleman, some day and, mark my words, you
will do it."
"You're spoiling that child," her husband would say, "filling his head
with your ridiculous notions."
"No, I am not spoiling him, Sam. I'm doing him good. It will help keep
him straight, if he thinks that he is of gentle blood, and must not shame
it. Why, the matron said only yesterday she could not make him out, he
was so different from other boys."
"More's the pity," grumbled the porter. "It mayn't do him harm now--I
don't say as it does; but when he leaves the house he'll be above his
work, and will be discontented, and never keep a place."
"No, he won't," his wife asserted stoutly; although, in her heart, she
feared that there was some risk of her teaching having that effect.
So far, however, there could be no doubt that her teaching had been of
great advantage to the boy; and his steadiness and diligence soon
attracted the attention of the schoolmaster. Schoolmasters are always
ready to help pupils forward who promise to be a credit to them, and
William Gale's teacher was no exception. He was not a learned
man--very far from it. He had been a grocer who had failed in business
and, having no other resource, had accepted the very small salary
offered, by the guardians of Ely workhouse, as the only means which
presented itself of keeping out of one of the pauper wards of that
institution. However, he was not a bad reader, and wrote an