My Friend Smith

My Friend Smith A Story of School and City Life
By Talbot Baines Reed
CHAPTER ONE.
HOW I CAME TO BE SENT TO STONEBRIDGE HOUSE.
"It was perfectly plain, Hudson, the boy could not be allowed to remain
any longer a disgrace to the neighbourhood," said my uncle.
"But, sir," began my poor old nurse.
"That will do, Hudson," said my uncle, decisively; "the matter is
settled--Frederick is going to Stonebridge House on Monday."
And my uncle stood up, and taking a coat-tail under each arm,
established himself upon the hearthrug, with his back to Mrs Hudson.
That was always a sign there was no more to be said; and off I was
trotted out of the dreaded presence, not very sure whether to be elated
or depressed by the conversation I had overheard.
And indeed I never was quite clear as to why, at the tender and
guileless age of twelve, I was abruptly sent away from my native
village of Brownstroke, to that select and popular "Academy for
Backward and Troublesome Young Gentlemen," (so the advertisement
ran), known as Stonebridge House, in the neighbourhood of Cliffshire.
Other people appeared to divine the reason, and Mrs Hudson shook her
head and wiped her eyes when I consulted her on the subject. It was
queer. "I must be a very backward boy," thought I to myself, "for try as
I will, I don't see it."
You must know I was an orphan. I never could recollect my
mother--nor could Mrs Hudson. As to my father, all I could recall of

him was that he had bushy eyebrows, and used to tell me some most
wonderful stories about lions and tigers and other beasts of prey, and
used now and then to show me my mother's likeness in a locket that
hung on his watch- chain. They were both dead, and so I came to live
with my uncle. Now, I could hardly tell why, but it never seemed to me
as if my uncle appeared to regard it as a privilege to have me to take
care of. He didn't whack me as some fellows' uncles do, nor did he
particularly interfere with my concerns, as the manner of other uncles
(so I am told), is. He just took as little notice as possible of me, and as
long as I went regularly to Mrs Wren's grammar-school in the village,
and as long as Mrs Hudson kept my garments in proper order, and as
long as I showed up duly on state occasions, and didn't bring more than
a square inch of clay on each heel (there was a natural affinity between
clay and my heels), into his drawing-room, he scarcely seemed to be
aware that his house possessed such a treasure as an only nephew.
The part of my life I liked least was the grammar-school. That was a
horrid place. Mrs Wren was a good old soul, who spent one half of her
time looking over her spectacles, and the other half under them, for
something she never found. We big boys--for twelve is a good age for a
dame's grammar-school--we didn't exactly get on at old Jenny Wren's,
as she was called. For we gradually discovered we knew almost as
much as she did herself, and it dawned on us by degrees that somehow
she didn't know how to keep us in order. The consequence was, one or
two boys, especially Jimmy Bates, the parish clerk's son, and Joe
Bobbins, the Italian oil and colourman's son, didn't behave very well. I
was sorry to see it, and always told them so.
They got us other boys into all sorts of scrapes and trouble. One day
they would hide poor Jenny's spectacles, and then when search was
made the lost treasure would be found in some one else's desk. Or they
would tie cotton reels on the four feet and tail of the old tabby cat, and
launch her, with a horrid clatter, right into the middle of the room, just
as I or one of the others happened to be scampering out. Or they would
turn the little boys' forms upside down, and compel them with terrible
threats to sit on the iron feet, and then in the middle of the class "sneak"
about them.

Poor Jenny couldn't manage the school at all, with such boys as Jimmy
Bates and Joe Bobbins in it. Up to boys of ten she was all right; but
over ten she was all at sea.
However, she worked patiently on, and taught us all she could, and
once or twice gave us a horrible fright by calling up at our houses, and
reporting progress there (Mrs Hudson always received her when she
came up to my uncle's). And for all I know I