o his out-of-the-way establishment, and no check whatever upon
his cruelty. It had various effects on the different boys. It killed one
in my day, and the doctor (who had been "in a difficulty" some years
back, over a matter through which Mr. Crayshaw helped him with bail and
testimony) certified to heart disease, and we all had our
pocket-handkerchiefs washed, and went to the funeral. And Snuffy had
cards printed with a black edge, and several angels and a broken lily,
and the hymn--

"Death has been here and borne away
A brother from our side;
Just in the morning of his day,
As young as we he died."

--and sent them to all the parents. But the pupils had to pay for the
stamps. And my dear mother cried dreadfully, first because she was so
sorry for the boy, and secondly because she ever had felt uncharitably
towards Mr. Crayshaw.

Crayshaw's cruelty crushed others, it made liars and sneaks of boys
naturally honest, and it produced in Lorraine an unchildlike despair
that was almost grand, so far was the spirit above the flesh in him. But
I think its commonest and strangest result was to make the boys bully
each other.

One of the least cruel of the tyrannies the big boys put upon the little
ones, sometimes bore very hardly on those who were not strong. They used
to ride races on our backs and have desperate mounted battles and
tournaments. In many a playground and home since then I have seen boys
tilt and race, and steeplechase, with smaller boys upon their backs, and
plenty of wholesome rough-and-tumble in the game; and it has given me a
twinge of heartache to think how, even when we were at play, Crayshaw's
baneful spirit cursed us with its example, so that the big and strong
could not be happy except at the expense of the little and weak.

For it was the big ones who rode the little ones, with neatly-cut
ash-sticks and clumsy spurs. I can see them now, with the thin legs of
the small boys tottering under them, like a young donkey overridden by a
coal-heaver.

I was a favourite horse, for I was active and nimble, and (which was
more to the point) well made. It was the shambling, ill-proportioned
lads who suffered most. The biggest boy in school rode me, as a rule,
but he was not at all a bad bully, so I was lucky. He never spurred me,
and he boasted of my willingness and good paces. I am sure he did not
know, I don't suppose he ever stopped to think, how bad it was for me,
or what a