he children do not learn about the employing class by direct
intercourse, but derive from their parents such ideas as they have of
what is safe to do, and what is proper, where employing people are
concerned. As soon as this truth is realized, a curious significance
appears in some characteristic habits of the village school boys and
girls. The boys, especially, deserve remark. That they are in general
"rough," "uncivilized," I suppose might go without saying. It might also
go without saying, were it not that the comparison turns out to be
useful, that in animal spirits, physical courage, love of mischief and
noise, they are at least a match for middle-class boys who go to the
town grammar-school. I wish I could say that they have an equally good
sense of "playing the game," an equally strong _esprit de corps_, and so
on. Unfortunately, these traditions have hardly reached the village
school as yet, and perhaps will not easily make their way there, amongst
the children of parents whom the struggle for life compels to be so
suspicious and jealous. The question is, however, beside the point now.
Viewed without prejudice, the village boys must be thought quite as good
material as any other English boys; you can see that there is the making
of strong and brave men in them. With similar chances they would not be
inferior in any respect to the sons of the middle classes.

But under existing conditions the two sorts of boys develop some curious
differences of habit. Where those from middle-class homes are
self-possessed, those from the labourers' cottages are not merely shy,
not merely uncouth and lubberly; they grow furtive, suspicious, timid as
wild animals, on the watch for a chance to run. Audacious enough at
bird's-nesting, sliding, tree-climbing, fighting, and impertinent enough
towards people of their own kind, they quail before the first challenge
of "superiority." All aplomb goes from them then. It is distressing to
see how they look: with an expression of whimpering rebellion, as though
the superior person had unhuman qualities, not to be reckoned on--as
though there were danger in his presence. An incident of a few years
ago, very trumpery in itself, displayed to me in the sharpest
distinctness the contrast between the two orders of boys in this
respect. In the hedge which parts my garden from the lane there is a
nut-tree, too tempting to all boys when the nuts are ripe. At that
season one hears whispered and exclama