land be it said--of England, in general so kind
and bountiful. Rations of carrion meat, and bread from which I
have seen the very hounds occasionally turn away, were unworthy
entertainment even for the most ruffian enemy, when helpless
and a captive; and such, alas! was the fare in those casernes.

But here we have only to do with Thomas Borrow, of whom we get many a
quaint glimpse in _Lavengro_, our first and our last being concerned
with him in the one quality that his son seems to have inherited, as the
associate of a prize-fighter--Big Ben Brain. Borrow records in his
opening chapter that Ben Brain and his father met in Hyde Park probably
in 1790, and that after an hour's conflict 'the champions shook hands
and retired, each having experienced quite enough of the other's
prowess.' Borrow further relates that four months afterwards Brain 'died
in the arms of my father, who read to him the Bible in his last
moments.' Dr. Knapp finds Borrow in one of his many inaccuracies or
rather 'imaginings' here, as Brain did not die until 1794. More than
once in his after years the old soldier seems to have had a shy pride in
that early conflict, although the piety which seems to have come to him
with the responsibilities of wife and children led him to count any
recalling of the episode as a 'temptation.' When Borrow was about
thirteen years of age, he overheard his father and mother discussing
their two boys, the elder being the father's favourite and George the
mother's:

'I will hear nothing against my first-born,' said my father,
'even in the way of insinuation: he is my joy and pride; the
very image of myself in my youthful days, long before I fought
Big Ben, though perhaps not quite so tall or strong built. As
for the other, God bless the child! I love him, I'm sure; but I
must be blind not to see the difference between him and his
brother. Why, he has neither my hair nor my eyes; and then his
countenance! why, 'tis absolutely swarthy, God forgive me! I
had almost said like that of a gypsy, but I have nothing to say
against that; the boy is not to be blamed for the colour of his
face, nor for his hair and eyes; but, then, his ways and
manners!--I confess I do not like them, and that they give me
no little uneasiness.'[7]

Borrow throughout his narrative refers to his father as 'a man of
excellent common sense,' and he quotes the opinion