The Schoolboy's Story

by Charles Dickens

　　Being rather young at present--I am getting on in years, but still Iam rather young--I have no particular adventures of my own to fallback upon. It wouldn't much interest anybody here, I suppose, toknow what a screw the Reverend is, or what a griffin SHE is, or howthey do stick it into parents--particularly hair-cutting, andmedical attendance. One of our fellows was charged in his half'saccount twelve and sixpence for two pills--tolerably profitable atsix and threepence a-piece, I should think--and he never took themeither, but put them up the sleeve of his jacket.As to the beef, it's shameful. It's NOT beef. Regular beef isn'tveins. You can chew regular beef. Besides which, there's gravy toregular beef, and you never see a drop to ours. Another of ourfellows went home ill, and heard the family doctor tell his fatherthat he couldn't account for his complaint unless it was the beer.Of course it was the beer, and well it might be!However, beef and Old Cheeseman are two different things. So isbeer. It was Old Cheeseman I meant to tell about; not the manner inwhich our fellows get their constitutions destroyed for the sake ofprofit.Why, look at the pie-crust alone. There's no flakiness in it. It'ssolid--like damp lead. Then our fellows get nightmares, and arebolstered for calling out and waking other fellows. Who can wonder!Old Cheeseman one night walked in his sleep, put his hat on over hisnight-cap, got hold of a fishing-rod and a cricket-bat, and wentdown into the parlour, where they naturally thought from hisappearance he was a Ghost. Why, he never would have done that ifhis meals had been wholesome. When we all begin to walk in oursleeps, I suppose they'll be sorry for it.Old Cheeseman wasn't second Latin Master then; he was a fellowhimself. He was first brought there, very small, in a post-chaise,by a woman who was always taking snuff and shaking him--and that wasthe most he remembered about it. He never went home for theholidays. His accounts (he never learnt any extras) were sent to aBank, and the Bank paid them; and he had a brown suit twice a-year,and went into boots at twelve. They were always too big for him,too.In the Midsummer holidays, some of our fellows who lived withinwalking distance, used to come back and climb the trees outside theplayground wall, on purpose to look at Old Cheeseman reading thereby himself. He was always as mild as the tea--and THAT'S prettymild, I should hope!--so when they whistled to him, he looked up andnodded; and when they said, "Halloa, Old Cheeseman, what have youhad for dinner?" he said, "Boiled mutton;" and when they said, "An'tit solitary, Old Cheeseman?" he said, "It is a little dullsometimes:" and then they said, "Well good-bye, Old Cheeseman!" andclimbed down again. Of course it was imposing on Old Cheeseman togive him nothing but boiled mutton through a whole Vacation, butthat was just like the system. When they didn't give him boiledmutton, they gave him rice pudding, pretending it was a treat. Andsaved the butcher.So Old Cheeseman went on. The holidays brought him into othertrouble besides the loneliness; because when the fellows began tocome back, not wanting to, he was always glad to see them; which wasaggravating when they were not at all glad to see him, and so he gothis head knocked against walls, and that was the way his nose bled.But he was a favourite in general. Once a subscription was raisedfor him; and, to keep up his spirits, he was presented before theholidays with two white mice, a rabbit, a pigeon, and a beautifulpuppy. Old Cheeseman cried about it--especially soon afterwards,when they all ate one another.Of course Old Cheeseman used to be called by the names of all sortsof cheeses--Double Glo'sterman, Family Cheshireman, Dutchman, NorthWiltshireman, and all that. But he never minded it. And I don'tmean to say he was old in point of years--because he wasn't--only hewas called from the first, Old Cheeseman.At last, Old Cheeseman was made second Latin Master. He was broughtin one morning at the beginning of a new half, and presented to theschool in that capacity as "Mr. Cheeseman." Then our fellows allagreed that Old Cheeseman was a spy, and a deserter, who had goneover to the enemy's camp, and sold himself for gold. It was noexcuse for him that he had sold himself for very little gold--twopound ten a quarter and his washing, as was reported. It wasdecided by a Parliament which sat about it, that Old Cheeseman'smercenary motives could alone be taken into account, and that he had"coined our blood for drachmas." The Parliament took the expressionout of the quarrel scene between Brutus and Cassius.When it was settled in this strong way that Old Cheeseman was atremendous traitor, who had wormed himself into our fellows' secretson purpose to get himself into favour by giving up everything heknew, all courageous fellows were invited to come forward and enrolthemselves in a Society for making a set against him. The Presidentof the Society was First boy, named Bob Tarter. His father was inthe West Indies, and he owned, himself, that his father was worthMillions. He had great power among our fellows, and he wrote aparody, beginning - "Who made believe to be so meek That we could hardly hear him speak, Yet turned out an Informing Sneak? Old Cheeseman." - and on in that way through more than a dozen verses, which he usedto go and sing, every morning, close by the new master's desk. Hetrained one of the low boys, too, a rosy-cheeked little Brass whodidn't care what he did, to go up to him with his Latin Grammar onemorning, and say it so: NOMINATIVUS PRONOMINUM--Old Cheeseman, RAROEXPRIMITUR--was never suspected, NISI DISTINCTIONIS--of being aninformer, AUT EMPHASIS GRATIA--until he proved one. UT--forinstance, VOS DAMNASTIS--when he sold the boys. QUASI--as though,DICAT--he should say, PRETAEREA NEMO--I'm a Judas! All thisproduced a great effect on Old Cheeseman. He had never had muchhair; but what he had, began to get thinner and thinner every day.He grew paler and more worn; and sometimes of an evening he was seensitting at his desk with a precious long snuff to his candle, andhis hands before his face, crying. But no member of the Societycould pity him, even if he felt inclined, because the President saidit was Old Cheeseman's conscience.So Old Cheeseman went on, and didn't he lead a miserable life! Ofcourse the Reverend turned up his nose at him, and of course SHEdid--because both of them always do that at all the masters--but hesuffered from the fellows most, and he suffered from themconstantly. He never told about it, that the Society could findout; but he got no credit for that, because the President said itwas Old Cheeseman's cowardice.He had only one friend in the world, and that one was almost aspowerless as he was, for it was only Jane. Jane was a sort ofwardrobe woman to our fellows, and took care of the boxes. She hadcome at first, I believe, as a kind of apprentice--some of ourfellows say from a Charity, but I don't know--and after her time wasout, had stopped at so much a year. So little a year, perhaps Iought to say, for it is far more likely. However, she had put somepounds in the Savings' Bank, and she was a very nice young woman.She was not quite pretty; but she had a very frank, honest, brightface, and all our fellows were fond of her. She was uncommonly neatand cheerful, and uncommonly comfortable and kind. And if anythingwas the matter with a fellow's mother, he always went and showed theletter to Jane.Jane was Old Cheeseman's friend. The more the Society went againsthim, the more Jane stood by him. She used to give him a good-humoured look out of her still-room window, sometimes, that seemedto set him up for the day. She used to pass out of the orchard andthe kitchen garden (always kept locked, I believe you!) through theplayground, when she might have gone the other way, only to give aturn of her head, as much as to say "Keep up your spirits!" to OldCheeseman. His slip of a room was so fresh and orderly that it waswell known who looked after it while he was at his desk; and whenour fellows saw a smoking hot dumpling on his plate at dinner, theyknew with indignation who had sent it up.Under these circumstances, the Society resolved, after a quantity ofmeeting and debating, that Jane should be requested to cut OldCheeseman dead; and that if she refused, she must be sent toCoventry herself. So a deputation, headed by the President, wasappointed to wait on Jane, and inform her of the vote the Societyhad been under the painful necessity of passing. She was very muchrespected for all her good qualities, and there was a story abouther having once waylaid the Reverend in his own study, and got afellow off from severe punishment, of her own kind comfortableheart. So the deputation didn't much like the job. However, theywent up, and the President told Jane all about it. Upon which Janeturned very red, burst into tears, informed the President and thedeputation, in a way not at all like her usual way, that they were aparcel of malicious young savages, and turned the whole respectedbody out of the room. Consequently it was entered in the Society'sbook (kept in astronomical cypher for fear of detection), that allcommunication with Jane was interdicted: and the Presidentaddressed the members on this convincing instance of Old Cheeseman'sundermining.But Jane was as true to Old Cheeseman as Old Cheeseman was false toour fellows--in their opinion, at all events--and steadily continuedto be his only friend. It was a great exasperation to the Society,because Jane was as much a loss to them as she was a gain to him;and being more inveterate against him than ever, they treated himworse than ever. At last, one morning, his desk stood empty, hisroom was peeped into, and found to be vacant, and a whisper wentabout among the pale faces of our fellows that Old Cheeseman, unableto bear it any longer, had got up early and drowned himself.The mysterious looks of the other masters after breakfast, and theevident fact that old Cheeseman was not expected, confirmed theSociety in this opinion. Some began to discuss whether thePresident was liable to hanging or only transportation for life, andthe President's face showed a great anxiety to know which. However,he said that a jury of his country should find him game; and that inhis address he should put it to them to lay their hands upon theirhearts and say whether they as Britons approved of informers, andhow they thought they would like it themselves. Some of the Societyconsidered that he had better run away until he found a forest wherehe might change clothes with a wood-cutter, and stain his face withblackberries; but the majority believed that if he stood his ground,his father--belonging as he did to the West Indies, and being worthmillions--could buy him off.All our fellows' hearts beat fast when the Reverend came in, andmade a sort of a Roman, or a Field Marshal, of himself with theruler; as he always did before delivering an address. But theirfears were nothing to their astonishment when he came out with thestory that Old Cheeseman, "so long our respected friend and fellow-pilgrim in the pleasant plains of knowledge," he called him--O yes!I dare say! Much of that!--was the orphan child of a disinheritedyoung lady who had married against her father's wish, and whoseyoung husband had died, and who had died of sorrow herself, andwhose unfortunate baby (Old Cheeseman) had been brought up at thecost of a grandfather who would never consent to see it, baby, boy,or man: which grandfather was now dead, and serve him right--that'smy putting in--and which grandfather's large property, there beingno will, was now, and all of a sudden and for ever, Old Cheeseman's!Our so long respected friend and fellow-pilgrim in the pleasantplains of knowledge, the Reverend wound up a lot of botheringquotations by saying, would "come among us once more" that dayfortnight, when he desired to take leave of us himself, in a moreparticular manner. With these words, he stared severely round atour fellows, and went solemnly out.There was precious consternation among the members of the Society,now. Lots of them wanted to resign, and lots more began to try tomake out that they had never belonged to it. However, the Presidentstuck up, and said that they must stand or fall together, and thatif a breach was made it should be over his body--which was meant toencourage the Society: but it didn't. The President further said,he would consider the position in which they stood, and would givethem his best opinion and advice in a few days. This was eagerlylooked for, as he knew a good deal of the world on account of hisfather's being in the West Indies.After days and days of hard thinking, and drawing armies all overhis slate, the President called our fellows together, and made thematter clear. He said it was plain that when Old Cheeseman came onthe appointed day, his first revenge would be to impeach theSociety, and have it flogged all round. After witnessing with joythe torture of his enemies, and gloating over the cries which agonywould extort from them, the probability was that he would invite theReverend, on pretence of conversation, into a private room--say theparlour into which Parents were shown, where the two great globeswere which were never used--and would there reproach him with thevarious frauds and oppressions he had endured at his hands. At theclose of his observations he would make a signal to a Prizefighterconcealed in the passage, who would then appear and pitch into theReverend, till he was left insensible. Old Cheeseman would thenmake Jane a present of from five to ten pounds, and would leave theestablishment in fiendish triumph.The President explained that against the parlour part, or the Janepart, of these arrangements he had nothing to say; but, on the partof the Society, he counselled deadly resistance. With this view herecommended that all available desks should be filled with stones,and that the first word of the complaint should be the signal toevery fellow to let fly at Old Cheeseman. The bold advice put theSociety in better spirits, and was unanimously taken. A post aboutOld Cheeseman's size was put up in the playground, and all ourfellows practised at it till it was dinted all over.When the day came, and Places were called, every fellow sat down ina tremble. There had been much discussing and disputing as to howOld Cheeseman would come; but it was the general opinion that hewould appear in a sort of triumphal car drawn by four horses, withtwo livery servants in front, and the Prizefighter in disguise upbehind. So, all our fellows sat listening for the sound of wheels.But no wheels were heard, for Old Cheeseman walked after all, andcame into the school without any preparation. Pretty much as heused to be, only dressed in black."Gentlemen," said the Reverend, presenting him, "our so longrespected friend and fellow-pilgrim in the pleasant plains ofknowledge, is desirous to offer a word or two. Attention,gentlemen, one and all!"Every fellow stole his hand into his desk and looked at thePresident. The President was all ready, and taking aim at oldCheeseman with his eyes.What did Old Cheeseman then, but walk up to his old desk, look roundhim with a queer smile as if there was a tear in his eye, and beginin a quavering, mild voice, "My dear companions and old friends!"Every fellow's hand came out of his desk, and the President suddenlybegan to cry."My dear companions and old friends," said Old Cheeseman, "you haveheard of my good fortune. I have passed so many years under thisroof--my entire life so far, I may say--that I hope you have beenglad to hear of it for my sake. I could never enjoy it withoutexchanging congratulations with you. If we have ever misunderstoodone another at all, pray, my dear boys, let us forgive and forget.I have a great tenderness for you, and I am sure you return it. Iwant in the fulness of a grateful heart to shake hands with youevery one. I have come back to do it, if you please, my dear boys."Since the President had begun to cry, several other fellows hadbroken out here and there: but now, when Old Cheeseman began withhim as first boy, laid his left hand affectionately on his shoulderand gave him his right; and when the President said "Indeed, I don'tdeserve it, sir; upon my honour I don't;" there was sobbing andcrying all over the school. Every other fellow said he didn'tdeserve it, much in the same way; but Old Cheeseman, not mindingthat a bit, went cheerfully round to every boy, and wound up withevery master--finishing off the Reverend last.Then a snivelling little chap in a corner, who was always under somepunishment or other, set up a shrill cry of "Success to OldCheeseman! Hooray!" The Reverend glared upon him, and said, "MR.Cheeseman, sir." But, Old Cheeseman protesting that he liked hisold name a great deal better than his new one, all our fellows tookup the cry; and, for I don't know how many minutes, there was such athundering of feet and hands, and such a roaring of Old Cheeseman,as never was heard.After that, there was a spread in the dining-room of the mostmagnificent kind. Fowls, tongues, preserves, fruits,confectionaries, jellies, neguses, barley-sugar temples, trifles,crackers--eat all you can and pocket what you like--all at OldCheeseman's expense. After that, speeches, whole holiday, doubleand treble sets of all manners of things for all manners of games,donkeys, pony-chaises and drive yourself, dinner for all the mastersat the Seven Bells (twenty pounds a-head our fellows estimated itat), an annual holiday and feast fixed for that day every year, andanother on Old Cheeseman's birthday--Reverend bound down before thefellows to allow it, so that he could never back out--all at OldCheeseman's expense.And didn't our fellows go down in a body and cheer outside the SevenBells? O no!But there's something else besides. Don't look at the next story-teller, for there's more yet. Next day, it was resolved that theSociety should make it up with Jane, and then be dissolved. What doyou think of Jane being gone, though! "What? Gone for ever?" saidour fellows, with long faces. "Yes, to be sure," was all the answerthey could get. None of the people about the house would sayanything more. At length, the first boy took upon himself to askthe Reverend whether our old friend Jane was really gone? TheReverend (he has got a daughter at home--turn-up nose, and red)replied severely, "Yes, sir, Miss Pitt is gone." The idea ofcalling Jane, Miss Pitt! Some said she had been sent away indisgrace for taking money from Old Cheeseman; others said she hadgone into Old Cheeseman's service at a rise of ten pounds a year.All that our fellows knew, was, she was gone.It was two or three months afterwards, when, one afternoon, an opencarriage stopped at the cricket field, just outside bounds, with alady and gentleman in it, who looked at the game a long time andstood up to see it played. Nobody thought much about them, untilthe same little snivelling chap came in, against all rules, from thepost where he was Scout, and said, "It's Jane!" Both Elevens forgotthe game directly, and ran crowding round the carriage. It WASJane! In such a bonnet! And if you'll believe me, Jane was marriedto Old Cheeseman.It soon became quite a regular thing when our fellows were hard atit in the playground, to see a carriage at the low part of the wallwhere it joins the high part, and a lady and gentleman standing upin it, looking over. The gentleman was always Old Cheeseman, andthe lady was always Jane.The first time I ever saw them, I saw them in that way. There hadbeen a good many changes among our fellows then, and it had turnedout that Bob Tarter's father wasn't worth Millions! He wasn't worthanything. Bob had gone for a soldier, and Old Cheeseman hadpurchased his discharge. But that's not the carriage. The carriagestopped, and all our fellows stopped as soon as it was seen."So you have never sent me to Coventry after all!" said the lady,laughing, as our fellows swarmed up the wall to shake hands withher. "Are you never going to do it?""Never! never! never!" on all sides.I didn't understand what she meant then, but of course I do now. Iwas very much pleased with her face though, and with her good way,and I couldn't help looking at her--and at him too--with all ourfellows clustering so joyfully about them.They soon took notice of me as a new boy, so I thought I might aswell swarm up the wall myself, and shake hands with them as the restdid. I was quite as glad to see them as the rest were, and wasquite as familiar with them in a moment."Only a fortnight now," said Old Cheeseman, "to the holidays. Whostops? Anybody?"A good many fingers pointed at me, and a good many voices cried "Hedoes!" For it was the year when you were all away; and rather low Iwas about it, I can tell you."Oh!" said Old Cheeseman. "But it's solitary here in the holidaytime. He had better come to us."So I went to their delightful house, and was as happy as I couldpossibly be. They understand how to conduct themselves towardsboys, THEY do. When they take a boy to the play, for instance, theyDO take him. They don't go in after it's begun, or come out beforeit's over. They know how to bring a boy up, too. Look at theirown! Though he is very little as yet, what a capital boy he is!Why, my next favourite to Mrs. Cheeseman and Old Cheeseman, is youngCheeseman.So, now I have told you all I know about Old Cheeseman. And it'snot much after all, I am afraid. Is it?