uilty hand. Lucifer-matches and all the present facilities for getting
acquainted with fire were then unknown--the very name of phosphorus had
something diabolic in it to the boy-mind; so Tom's ally, at the cost
of a sound flogging, earned what many older folk covet much--the very
decided fear of most of his companions.

He was a remarkable boy, and by no means a bad one. Tom stuck to him
till he left, and got into many scrapes by so doing. But he was the
great opponent of the tale-bearing habits of the school, and the open
enemy of the ushers; and so worthy of all support.

Tom imbibed a fair amount of Latin and Greek at the school, but somehow,
on the whole, it didn't suit him, or he it, and in the holidays he was
constantly working the Squire to send him at once to a public school.
Great was his joy then, when in the middle of his third half-year, in
October 183-, a fever broke out in the village, and the master having
himself slightly sickened of it, the whole of the boys were sent off at
a day's notice to their respective homes.

The Squire was not quite so pleased as Master Tom to see that young
gentleman's brown, merry face appear at home, some two months before the
proper time, for the Christmas holidays; and so, after putting on his
thinking cap, he retired to his study and wrote several letters, the
result of which was that, one morning at the breakfast-table, about a
fortnight after Tom's return, he addressed his wife with--"My dear, I
have arranged that Tom shall go to Rugby at once, for the last six weeks
of this half-year, instead of wasting them in riding and loitering about
home. It is very kind of the doctor to allow it. Will you see that his
things are all ready by Friday, when I shall take him up to town, and
send him down the next day by himself."

Mrs. Brown was prepared for the announcement, and merely suggested a
doubt whether Tom were yet old enough to travel by himself. However,
finding both father and son against her on this point, she gave in, like
a wise woman, and proceeded to prepare Tom's kit for his launch into a
public school.

CHAPTER IV--THE STAGE COACH.

"Let the steam-pot hiss till it's hot;
Give me the speed of the Tantivy trot."
Coaching Song, by R.E.E. Warburton, Esq.

"Now, sir, time to get up, if you please. Tally-ho coach for
Leicester'll be round in half an hour, and don't wait for nobody." So
spake the boots of the Peacock Inn Islington, at half-p