Frank Fairlegh | Page 6

This gentleman was of rather a short thick-set figure, with a large head,
and an expression of countenance resembling that of a bull when the
animal "means mischief," and was supposed by his friends to be more
"thoroughly wide awake" than any one of his years in the three
kingdoms. The quartette was completed by Mr. Frederick Coleman, a
small lad, with a round merry face, who was perched on the back of a
chair, with his feet resting on the hob, and his person so disposed as
effectually to screen every ray of fire from Nathaniel Mullins.
"You are not cold, Fairlegh? Don't let me keep the fire from you," said
Lawless, without, however, showing the slightest intention of moving.
"Not very, thank you."
"Eh! quite right--glad to hear it. It's Mildman's wish that, during the
first half, no pupil should come on the hearthrug. I made a point of
conscience of it myself when I first came. The Spartans, you know,
never allowed their little boys to do so, and even the Athenians, a much
more luxurious people, always had their pinafores made of asbestos, or
some such fireproof stuff. You are well read in Walker's History of
Greece, I hope?" I replied that I was afraid I was not. "Never read
Hookeyus Magnus? Your father ought to be ashamed of himself for
neglecting you so. You are aware, I suppose, that the Greeks had a
different sort of fire from what we burn nowadays? You've heard of
Greek fire?"
I answered that I had, but did not exactly understand what it meant.
"Not know that, either? disgraceful! Well, it was a kind of way they
had of flaring up in those times a sort of 'light of other days,' which
enabled them to give their friends a warm reception; so much so,
indeed, that their friends found it too warm sometimes, and latterly they
usually reserved it for their enemies. Mind you remember all this, for it
is one of the first things old Sam will be sure to ask you."
Did my ears deceive me? Could he have called the tutor, the dreaded
tutor, "old Sam"? I trembled as I stood--plain, unhonoured "Sam," as
though he had spoken of a footman! The room turned round with me.

Alas for Sandford and Merton, and affectionate and respectful esteem!
"But how's this?" continued Lawless, "we have ~10~~forgotten to
introduce you in form to your companions, and to enter your name in
the books of the establishment; why, Cumberland, what were you
thinking of?"
"Beg pardon," rejoined Cumberland, "I really was so buried in thought,
trying to solve that problem about bisecting the Siamese twins--you
know it, Lawless? However, it is not too late, is it? Allow me to
introduce you, Mr. Fairplay------"
"Legh, sir," interrupted I.
"Ah, exactly; well, then, Mr. Fairlegh, let me introduce this gentleman,
Mr. George Lawless, who has, if I mistake not, been already trying,
with his usual benevolence, to supply a few of your deficiencies; he is,
if he will allow me to say so, one of the most rising young men of his
generation, one of the firmest props of the glorious edifice of our rights
and privileges."
"A regular brick," interposed Coleman. "Hold your tongue, Freddy:
little boys should be seen and not heard, as Tacitus tells us," said
Lawless, reprovingly.
The only reply to this, if reply it could be called, was something which
sounded to me like a muttered reference to the Greek historian Walker,
whom Lawless had so lately mentioned; and Cumberland continued:--
"You will pay great attention to everything Lawless tells you, and
endeavour to improve by following his example, at a respectful
distance--ahem! The gentleman on your right hand, Mr. Mullins, who
is chiefly remarkable for looking ['like a fool,' put in Coleman, sotto
voce], before he leaps, so long, that in general he postpones leaping
altogether, and is in the habit of making ['an ass of himself,' suggested
Coleman]--really, Freddy, I am surprised at you--of making two bites at
a cherry--you will be better able to appreciate when you know more of
him. As to my young friend Freddy here, his naturally good abilities

and amiable temper ['Draw it mild, old fellow!' interrupted the young
gentleman in question] have interested us so much in his favour that we
cannot but view with regret a habit he has of late fallen into, of turning
everything into ridicule ['What a pity!' from the same individual],
together with a lamentable addiction to the use of slang terms. Let me
hope his association with such a polished young gentleman as Mr.
Fairlegh may improve him in these particulars."
"Who drank Mildman's ale at dinner?" asked Coleman; "if that's a
specimen of his polished manners, I think mine take the shine out