Part 7

"In the first place," he observed, "you must understand that there is the Lower School, and whatever the boys belonging to it may think of themselves, it is but a very insignificant appendage to the establishment of Eton. It is generally composed of small boys, who have been to no other school. It is, indeed, more of a private school with none of the advantages of one, and all the disadvantages of a public school. So I will say no more about it, and you, at all events, will not belong to it. The Upper School, which is really Eton, is divided, in the first place, into Fourth, Fifth, and Sixth Forms. The Fourth Form is again separated into two parts--the lowest retains its name, and the other is called the Remove. The Fourth Form is subdivided into Lower, Middle, and Upper, and the Remove into Lower and Upper. The Fifth Form is also divided into Lower, Middle, and Upper, and these divisions are again subdivided according to convenience, usually into three divisions each. The Sixth Form consists of twenty fellows, namely, ten Oppidans and ten Collegers. The boys on the foundation are called Collegers: the management of the College and the Collegers is a very complicated matter. They are the fellows you see going about in heavy black cloth gowns. They go by the name of `Tugs,' which is short for tug muttons, because they used, it is said, to be fed on tough mutton. The lower boys treat Tugs with great contempt, because they look down upon them as belonging to an inferior class. This they should not do, and it is arrant folly into the bargain; for many a Tug has risen to be a Lord Chancellor, or to fill one of the highest offices of the State, while the self-satisfied Oppidan, who has snubbed him as a boy, has ended his days as a sub in a marching regiment, having run through all his property before he was of age. High up in the school there is a good deal of party-feeling indulged in by fellows who ought to know better. It comes out when `Collegers and Oppidans' are being played, either at football or cricket."

"I do not think that I shall ever be able to remember all about the Fourth and Fifth Forms and Removes," said Reginald.

"Here you have it in black and white, then," said Power. They were sitting in his room after chapel, enjoying that _otium cum dignitate_ which an Etonian learns so well to value.

1. Lower School, composed of small boys neither learned nor wise.

Fourth Form: 2. Lower. 3. Middle. 4. Upper.

Remove. 5. Lower. 6. Upper.

Fifth Form.

7. Lower, with about three divisions.

8. Middle, with about three divisions.

9. Upper, with about three divisions.

10. Sixth Form, composed of ten Oppidans and ten Collegers.

"When a fellow like you, for instance, arrives first, if he has been at a good private school, his tutor examines him. If he thinks well of him he is placed in the Upper Fourth, or perhaps in the Remove at once. If he is not above the average, he joins the Lower Fourth, with the rest of the unplaced. He remains in it till `Trials,' which come off about a month after the beginning of the half. According to his knowledge, he is then placed finally in the Lower, Middle, or Upper Fourth. Now you must understand that although Fourth Form is in the Upper School, yet all below Fifth Form, that is, Upper and Lower Remove, and Fourth Form, are called `Lower Boys.' All Lower Boys are liable to be fagged, so that `Lower Boy' is equivalent to `Fag.' Lower Fourth is generally in the hands of a young master, and, like puppies not yet broken in, they are consequently very disorderly. There are also always a few fellows at the top of the division who have come out of Lower School, and take considerable delight in putting the new-comers up to mischief. New-comers have a fortnight's `law' before they are liable to be fagged. This is to give them time to look about them, and to learn the ways of the school. At the end of that time the captain of their house allots them to some master. As to fagging, I decidedly say in a large school like this it is a very great advantage, and wonderfully assists the governing powers by giving a number of fellows who would otherwise be idle something to do. It teaches, also, fellows to take care of themselves, as well as some accomplishments which they may find very useful in after-life, when they come to knock about the world. After all, too, what are the hardships? A fellow has to lay his master's cloth for breakfast, get his muffins and eggs, make his tea and his toast, and be ready to cook a mutton chop and anything else he may require. He may also have to clean his shoes and brush his clothes, but in that there is nothing very terrible. The only disagreeable part of house fagging is being sent out at odd hours or in bad weather to get things when a fellow would be rather sitting in his own room. There is no cricket or football fagging here, but out of doors a Fourth Form boy is liable to be fagged by any one in the Upper or Middle Fifth Form, either to run on errands, to buy things for him, or to stand behind a Five's court, and to pick up the balls, or to carry books for him. This may be called miscellaneous fagging. The captain of Upper Remove is excused fagging by custom. Lower Fifth neither fags nor can be fagged. `Upper Lower' can fag miscellaneously, but cannot own private fags. Middle Fifth seldom have fags `of their own,' as the captain of their house probably appropriates three or four, and gives the second captain two or three, and so on, and thus uses up the `Lower boys,' before they come to the end of the Upper Fifth. The most unpleasant fagging certainly is behind the `Five's walls.' The old ones, you will find, are between the chapel buttresses in the school yard. You are fortunate in having come up in the middle of the half, because you will have time to become known to fellows, and will be saved a considerable amount of annoyance. If you had come at the beginning of the half, you would have found that the Fifth Form arrived two or three days after you. The next day all the Lower boys are collected together, and are then allotted to the Fifth Form, as I have described. The Fourth Form are made to do the greater part of their lessons under their tutor's eye, but boys higher up in the school do nearly all their work in their own rooms, and only just go over it with their tutor when it is known. This, of course, is a great advantage, as we can learn all our lessons when we like, and are not tied down in any way.

"There are two examinations--one from Upper Fourth into Lower Remove; and the second, which is the hardest, from Lower Fifth into Upper and Lower Fifth. A boy takes a step upwards twice a year, unless he should be plucked at one of these examinations; so that suppose he is placed in the Middle Fourth--about the average place occupied by a new boy--it will take him two years to get into Lower Fifth, the ambition of every one, as he is then, as I have said, exempted from fagging.

"Every saint's day here is a whole holiday. Saturday is always a half-holiday, and there is one other half-holiday every week; so that the number of hours we are in school is very limited. Yet it is so contrived that we have at no time but a little over two hours to ourselves. On whole holidays there are two chapels--one at eleven o'clock, and another at three o'clock. There is a roll-call at two o'clock, just before dinner, and another at six o'clock.

"Generally speaking, we get up at half-past seven. There is school for three-quarters of an hour. We have repetition usually for most days in the week. Breakfast always at nine. School at eleven, as also at three, and a quarter-past five. School lasts only about three-quarters of an hour at a time. Dinner always at two. Lock-up at night varies from five to a quarter to nine. We have supper at nine, and go to bed at ten. So you see, in the natural order of events, we have no very overpoweringly hard work. The time from morning school to breakfast is known as `After Eight,' because, you see, we come out of school at eight. From breakfast till school again, `After Ten,' because breakfast is supposed to be over at ten; and for the same reason from school to dinner is called `After Twelve,' from dinner to school `After Two,' from school to school `After Four,' and in summer from school till lock-up `After Six.' There is, I should have said, also every week one play after four, which means three o'clock school, but none at five o'clock. On half-holidays there is `absence,' that is, calling over names at two o'clock, and in summer at six; and on half-holidays there is church at three instead of school. On whole holidays there is `absence' at a quarter-past nine, and church at eleven as well as at three.

"Of late years, mathematics, which used to be neglected entirely, have, with great advantage, been introduced at Eton. There are several mathematical masters, who have their different schools. Each division goes to the mathematical school three times a week. At first the fellows set their faces very much against the system, and even the classical masters didn't seem much to approve of the innovation; but they now all see the importance of it, and mathematical studies are now as popular as any other. The Reverend Stephen Hawtrey is the principal. Donkeys may sneer and bray at him, which donkeys always find it very easy to do; but a more philanthropical, kind-hearted, sensible, and religious man is not to be found. I remember when the mathematical schools were first opened, the fellows tried to cough down the masters when they began to lecture. They got also cat-calls, penny-trumpets, and all sorts of things to make a noise, and then had strings made fast to them, which they carried up their sleeves. Scarcely had the masters begun to speak than they commenced their row. Now one of the masters was an old naval officer who had been to Cambridge, and not at all a sort of person to play tricks with. They tried it on once or twice with him, and he seemed not to take much notice of their proceedings. His eye, however, was marking those who were making most noise, and in the midst of the greatest row down he pounced upon them, and, feeling for the strings inside their waistcoats, made a grand seizure of penny-trumpets, whistles, cat-calls, and similar musical instruments. He told them quietly that he did not wish to have any of them flogged, but that if it occurred again he should desire the praepositor to put them `in the bill.' This is, as you will find, for a fellow to have his name written on a slip of paper, and sent up to the Head Master. The fellow whose name is in the bill is told `to wait,' which means that he is to go to the Head Master's room after school to be flogged. It is an unpleasant operation, and a fellow looks thoroughly foolish when he comes down after it, and his friends kindly ask him how he likes it-- what he thinks of it--how he feels? On the occasion I am speaking of, the fellows did try it on again the very next day of attendance, and half a dozen of them got a good flogging for their pains. After that they behaved with much more quietness."

While they were talking, Anson came in.

"There is one more point I have to tell you about," said he, "and very important too: it is as to the rules of `shirking.' You must know that everywhere except just in college,--that is, about the school, and in the playing-fields, or on the way to your dame's or tutor's,--is `out of bounds.' Therefore, if you meet a master, you have to get out of his way into some hiding-place. In the country you get under a hedge or behind a wall. In the town you run into a shop, and if you do this at once, so as to show respect to the master, very few will say anything to you, though they see you as clearly as possible, and know perfectly well who you are. The Sixth Form need not shirk, as they may go anywhere. Of course, there are certain places if a fellow is seen in, a master will follow him, otherwise he never attempts to do so.

"There is a small house just outside the bounds, where the people are licensed to sell beer. It is called the Tap. It is used almost exclusively by us. If a fellow is caught going in or out, he is pretty severely punished, and yet no master ever thinks of coming in to look for us. Not long, ago a number of our fellows were in the passage, when who should walk in but one of the masters to order some beer for himself. He couldn't with a very good conscience punish us, so he took not the slightest notice of us, though we made sure he would. To our great satisfaction, away he walked again as if we had not been there. They keep there a long glass, which is brought out and emptied on important occasions by certain fellows, such as the winners of the pulling or sculling races--the eleven who have gained a well-contested match. It is a long tube with a bulb at the bottom, and holds about a pint and a half. Its contents must be drunk off without stopping to take breath, and the difficulty is when one gets down to the bulb to prevent it all rushing out at once, and running over one: a fellow stands by and marks the time one takes to drink the contents. I must take you there some day. There are several places of the sort up the river, where we are pretty well known. I must introduce you also to our favourite liquor, and I think that you will agree with me that it is first-rate. We call it `Shandy Gaff.' It's a mixture of beer and ginger-beer in equal portions, and on a hot day I know nothing more refreshing."

"I feel as if I knew all about Eton already," said Reginald; "you have told me so much."

His friends laughed. "There are a good many more things which you will have to learn not yet dreamed of in your philosophy," answered Power. "I haven't told you anything yet about our games--football, cricket, running, jumping, steeple-chasing. They are very different from those at most private schools. It will take you the best part of a year to learn all the rules of football alone. It will take you nearly as long before you know all the regulations about boating. However, now, when Eton is in its glory, is the time of the year to pick up all that sort of information. We think more of play than lessons, and even the masters never expect to get more than the regular schoolwork out of the boys. You'll probably stay on till you have worked your way up to Sixth Form, which just now perhaps looks at a very unapproachable distance. I forgot to tell you that the Sixth Form have the power of setting `poenas;' Collegers sometimes do it, and are thought great `brutes' for so doing. Oppidans rarely ever use their power. It assists them somewhat in keeping the Lower boys in order. You'll observe, too, how particular we are about our costume. Those who wear jackets always keep to black ties, and those who have taken to tail-coats invariably appear in white ties. These sorts of customs may appear trifles, but they all contribute to keep up discipline and order in the school. I, at first, thought them very nonsensical; I now see their use."

Reginald, when he went to his snug little room that night, thought that he knew a great deal more about Eton than he did in the morning; and though he was glad to be there, he felt altogether thankful that he had not come at an earlier age.

STORY THREE, CHAPTER THREE.

The important day arrived when Reginald was to be examined by his tutor, that it might be ascertained where he was to be placed in the school. He got up before the bell rang, soused his head thoroughly in cold water, and, having sponged himself all over, dressed briskly, and sat down to look over some of the books he knew. He was pretty well up in Greek as well as in Latin, though he had not gone very deep into the intricacies of either language. Mr Nugent, his tutor, had grounded him well also in mathematics, so that he was in no particular fright as to the result of his examination. He wanted, however, to be as well placed as possible, if the truth might be known, to get out of fagging as soon as he could.

After prayers, Mr Lindsay told him to come to his room with his books. He went there with a good heart also. His Latin construing and parsing seemed to satisfy his tutor, and then he read some Greek. Mr Lindsay looked pleased. This encouraged him. He went over book after book with perfect ease. The chances are, that he knew less than many a boy who had passed a much worse examination; but he had the advantage of possessing well-strung nerves, and of not feeling that he was doing anything dreadful or out of the way. Whatever he did know he recalled at once to his memory. He had also no wish to pretend to know more than he did. All was perfectly natural with him. His head and his voice were clear, and so on he went without the slightest hesitation. Had he been suddenly asked to sing a song which he knew, he could have done so with ease.

"You have got through very well," said Mr Lindsay; "I am happy to say that I shall be able to get you very satisfactorily placed."

Reginald was not a little pleased. He would have liked to ask "Where?" but he thought that might not be etiquette; so he restrained his curiosity, and ran off with a light stop to deposit his books in his room, and afterwards to join Power at breakfast, with a remarkably good appetite.

"Where do you think I shall be, though?" he asked more than once. Power guessed, but did not like to run the risk of disappointing him, so wisely would not give an opinion. At last, a short time before eleven o'clock, he set off with Mr Lindsay to make his _debut_ in school. He was left by himself in the school-yard while Mr Lindsay, as did most of the masters, went into "Chambers," to have a talk with the Doctor. He felt for a moment a little forlorn, standing in that wide place with so many boys around him, and yet not one he could call a friend or even an acquaintance; for neither Power nor Anson had yet come.

The boys now began to pour into the school-yard. Many came up to him and began the old standard questions.

"What's your name?" asked one; "any relation of Warrender at Rowley's?"

"No," answered Reginald. "I have had no relation here since my father was at Eton, that I know of."

"Oh, yes--but surely you're a cousin of Tom Jones?" observed one who was looked upon as a great wag.

"I am not aware that I have that honour," answered Reginald.

Several similar questions he had to answer, which he did in perfect good humour. At last a big, hulking fellow, who looked as if he had got fat on sucking-things, rolled up to him. There was something in the boy's air which reminded him wonderfully of a bully at his former school.

"How are you, Master Jones?" said the fellow, with a supercilious look.

"Pretty well, Tommy Green," answered Reginald, giving him back glance for glance.

"How dare you call me Green!" exclaimed the big boy, looking angry.

"Because you have a remarkably verdant hue about you," answered Reginald, who felt galled by the tone of bullying superiority assumed by the other.

The big boy's rage at the unusual impudence of a new fellow instantly blazed forth. "Take that for your pains, young one!" he cried out, giving Reginald a blow on the chest; "and that--and that--and that."

Reginald was for a moment staggered, but instantly recovering himself, he flew at the big fellow, and returned the blows with interest.

"A mill--a mill--a mill!" was the cry, and fellows rushed up from all parts of the yard, and closely surrounded the combatants. Reginald defended himself as well as he could from his big antagonist, who, fortunately, though evidently inclined to bully, was no great adept in the science of pugilism. At another time Reginald would have fought with the hope of victory; now his chief object was to defend his face, so that he might not have to make his appearance before the Doctor with a black eye or a bleeding nose. He made up for want of size and weight, and science also, for he had not much of it, by his activity, and consequently the big fellow exhausted his strength by frequently striking at the air, when he thought that he was going to put in an effective blow. As Reginald's courage and coolness manifested themselves, he gained plenty of supporters, and he soon guessed that his opponent was no great favourite. The exclamations and cries in his favour every moment grew warmer and warmer. This encouraged him, or rather, for he did not want much encouragement, discouraged the other. He continued fighting as cautiously, but commenced more aggressive operations, very much to the astonishment of the big fellow, who had fancied that he was going to gain an easy victory,--in fact, intended to give the new-comer a thrashing for his impudence.

"Well done! well done! Famously hit! Bravo! Pitch into him, little one!" were the exclamations over and over again repeated by his friends; while the opposite party kept shouting, "Go it, Cicester!--Give it him soundly!--Hit him hard!" Cirencester, however, did not seem to be very successful in putting this advice into execution, and impartial observers were of opinion that Warrender was getting the best of it, when the cry was raised of "All up--all up!" and the masters were seen coming out of the Doctor's door. After stopping a minute to have a short chat together, they proceeded to the school.

The moment the masters appeared, the combatants were separated, and Cirencester drew off without making any remark. The delay enabled Reginald to arrange his neck-tie, smooth his hair, and shake himself into his jacket. He felt rather bruised and heated, but he bore fortunately no remarkable outward traces of his combat. He soon rejoined Mr Lindsay, who took him to the Doctor, who looked, he thought, benignantly at him, and great was his satisfaction to find that he was placed in the Lower Remove.

From that moment he resolved to show that he had not been wrongly placed. It was a great satisfaction to feel that he should have only to remain a year numbered among those who could be fagged. He was thus also only one division below Power. He found that unless he was "plucked," he should rise one division every half-year, with certain trials and examinations interposed, into Fifth Form, and so on, but that there was no trial into Sixth Form, the vacancies in it being filled up by seniority.

Power and Anson congratulated him on his successful _debut_ in the school-yard.

"Cicester, big as he looks, is below you in the school," observed Anson. "He is an earl, but we don't take note here of titles. He eats too much to be strong, and thinks too much of himself to have many real friends. I am very glad that you treated him as you did, because I think that it will sicken him of attacking you again, and make other fellows treat you with respect. Of course, however, there are tuft-hunters here as well as elsewhere, and as some of the Fifth Form are among his friends, you must expect to be fagged a little sharply by them occasionally, if you get in their way. However, you'll know how to manage to keep out of rows. One thing I have found out; there is no use attempting to shirk fagging. A fellow is always certain to get the worst of it. There is no dodge a fellow can try which the Fifth Form are not up to, because you see that they have tried them all themselves. The worst thing a fellow can do is to show the sulks. He is certain to take nothing by it. I always find it best to do a thing willingly and promptly, however disagreeable it may be."

Reginald thanked his friends for their advice, and moreover took care to follow it.