The Remarkable History of Sir Thomas Upmore, bart., M.P., formerly known as "Tommy Upmore"Blackmore, R. D. (Richard Doddridge)
General
The Remarkable History of Sir Thomas Upmore, bart., M.P., formerly known as "Tommy Upmore"
Blackmore, R. D. (Richard Doddridge)
Great Britain -- Politics and government -- 19th century -- Fiction; Satire
"No, sir; no, sir; for God's sake don't go near him," cried Bill Chumps,
running up the playground; "_Grip_ can beat any two men in the world,
because no blow can hurt him. Leave him to me, sir; I understand him,
and he knows me well enough, though he never took to me, somehow or
other, as his dear old father does. He has taken wonderfully to Fly
Tommy. Somebody come, and give Tommy a good whack."
Of the many brave boys, who had rejoiced in doing this, even without
instigation last week, there was not one who would now discharge this
duty, for the public weal. "Why should I hit him?" said boy after boy,
who said last week, "Why shouldn't I?"--"I am a deal too fond of poor
Tommy for that. Hit him yourself, if you want him hit."
"So I will, then, you pack of dirty cowards," answered Chumps, being put
upon his mettle, though he told me afterwards that he was in a horrid
funk; and he gave me at once a good sounding smack, on a part of my body
that was covered with material warranted to wear, and having three stout
seams with a piece to let out. Before the echo of the Five's court
ceased, _Grip_ was between us, looking up at me, as if to ask, "What am
I to do?" doubting in his mind whether justice would allow him to wage
war against his late master's son.
"Worthy is he to be piled with praise--not _cumulari_, but _qui
cumuletur_, boys of the second form observe--inasmuch as he has not
doubted to encounter, singly, or in maniple, all the foes of the pusill
committed to his charge. Great is the manhood of this dog; and yet it
somewhat repenteth me that, provoked by the wanton assaults of science
upon the sweet retirement of the Muses, I have promised him the tub, and
the collar, and the bowl, of the deceased, and perhaps now constellated
animal, Heracles Poikilostiktos. Mercury, brush thy pulverulent
_petasus_, and with the aid of thy lyre, or that of the ever
ready-minded Chumps, conduct this formidable animal to the many-strewn
couch prepared for him. _Partheneionidæ_, the hour has struck. With
grateful ardour, let us hasten to the banquet of the mind provided for
us, by the generous wisdom of the men of old."
With these words, our great master strode to the school-room door; and
we (his children and the fruit of his cane) looked vainly for chance of
escape from work. Then, with as much of a sigh as childhood yet has
learned from nature's book, we followed the learned steps afar, with two
for one in length, but only one for two in speed, I ween.
CHAPTER VI.
TRUE SCIENCE.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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