of your temper, Ned, for unless you overcome it, be assured that sooner or later it may lead to terrible consequences.”
Ned, who had in fact been inclined to feel triumphant over his success, was sobered by his father’s grave words and manner; and resolved that he would try hard to conquer his fault; but evil habits are hard to overcome, and the full force of his father’s words was still to come home to him.
He did not, of course, return to Mr. Hathorn’s, and indeed the disclosures of the master’s severity made at the examination before the magistrates obtained such publicity that several of his pupils were removed at once, and notices were given that so many more would not return after the next holidays that no one was surprised to hear that the schoolmaster had arranged with a successor in the school, and that he himself was about to go to America.
The result was that after the holidays his successor took his place, and many of the fathers who had intended to remove their sons decided to give the newcomer a trial. The school opened with nearly the usual number of pupils. Ned was one of those who went back. Captain Sankey had called on the new master, and had told him frankly the circumstances of the fracas between Ned and Mr. Hathorn.
“I will try your son at any rate, Mr. Sankey,” the master said. “I have a strong opinion that boys can be managed without such use of the cane as is generally adopted; that, in my opinion, should be the last resort. Boys are like other people, and will do more for kindness than for blows. By what you tell me, the circumstances of your son’s bringing up in India among native servants have encouraged the growth of a passionate temper, but I trust that we may be able to overcome that; at any rate I will give him a trial.”
And so it was settled that Ned should return to Porson’s, for so the establishment was henceforth to be known.
CHAPTER V: THE NEW MASTER
It was with much excitement and interest that the boys gathered in their places for the first time under the new master. The boarders had not seen him upon their arrival on the previous evening, but had been received by an old housekeeper, who told them Mr. Porson would not return until the coach came in from York that night.
All eyes were turned to the door as the master entered. The first impression was that he was a younger man than they had expected. Mr. Hathorn had been some forty-five years old; the newcomer was not over thirty. He was a tall, loosely made man, with somewhat stooping shoulders; he had heavy eyebrows, gray eyes, and a firm mouth. He did not look round as he walked straight to his desk; then he turned, and his eyes traveled quietly and steadily round the room as if scanning each of the faces directed toward him.
“Now, boys,” he said in a quiet voice, “a few words before we begin. I am here to teach, and you are here to learn. As your master I expect prompt obedience. I shall look to see each of you do your best to acquire the knowledge which your parents have sent you here to obtain. Above all, I shall expect that every boy here will be straightforward, honorable, and truthful. I shall not expect to find that all are capable of making equal progress; there are clever boys and stupid boys, just as there are clever men and stupid men, and it would be unjust to expect that one can keep up to the other; but I do look to each doing his best according to his ability. On my part I shall do my best to advance you in your studies, to correct your faults, and to make useful men of you.
“One word as to punishments. I do not believe that knowledge is to be thrashed into boys, or that fear is the best teacher. I shall expect you to learn, partly because you feel that as your parents have paid for you to learn it is your duty to learn, partly because you wish to please me. I hope that the cane will seldom be used in this school. It will be used if any boy tells me a lie, if any boy does anything which is mean and dishonorable, if any boy is obstinately idle, and when it is used it will be used to a purpose, but I trust that the occasion for it will be rare.
“I shall treat you as friends whom it is my duty to instruct. You will treat me, I hope, as a friend whose duty it is to instruct you, and who has a warm interest in your welfare; if we really bear these relations to each other there should be seldom any occasion for punishment. And now as a beginning today, boys, let each come up to my desk, one at a time, with his books. I shall examine you separately, and see what each knows and is capable of doing. I see by the report here that there are six boys in the first class. As these will occupy me all the morning the rest can go into the playground. The second class will be taken this afternoon.”
The boys had listened with astonished silence to this address, and so completely taken aback were they that all save those ordered to remain rose from their seats and went out in a quiet and orderly way, very different from the wild rush which generally terminated school time.
Ned being in the second class was one of those who went out. Instead of scattering into groups, the boys gathered in a body outside.
“What do you think of that, Sankey?” Tompkins said. “It seems almost too good to be true. Only fancy, no more thrashing except for lying and things of that sort, and treating us like friends! and he talked as if he meant it too.”
“That he did,” Ned said gravely; “and I tell you, fellows, we shall have to work now, and no mistake. A fellow who will not work for such a man as that deserves to be skinned.”
“I expect,” said James Mather, who was one of the biggest boys in the school though still in the third class, “that it’s all gammon, just to give himself a good name, and to do away with the bad repute the school has got into for Hathorn’s flogging. You will see how long it will last! I ain’t going to swallow all that soft soap.”
Ned, who had been much touched at the master’s address, at once fired up:
“Oh! we all know how clever you are, Mather—quite a shining genius, one of the sort who can see through a stone wall. If you say it’s gammon, of course it must be so.”
There was a laugh among the boys.
“I will punch your head if you don’t shut up, Sankey,” Mather said angrily; “there’s no ink bottle for you to shy here.”
Ned turned very white, but he checked himself with an effort.
“I don’t want to fight today—it’s the first day of the half year, and after such a speech as we’ve heard I don’t want to have a row on this first morning. But you had better look out; another time you won’t find me so patient. Punch my head, indeed! Why, you daren’t try it.”
But Mather would have tried it, for he had for the last year been regarded as the cock of the school. However, several of the boys interfered.
“Sankey is right, Mather; it would be a beastly shame to be fighting this morning. After what Porson said there oughtn’t to be any rows today. We shall soon see whether he means it.”
Mather suffered himself to be dissuaded from carrying his threat into execution, the rather that in his heart of hearts he was not assured that the course would have been a wise one. Ned had never fought in the school, but Tompkins’ account of his fight on the moor with Bill Swinton, and the courage he had shown in taking upon himself the office of spokesman in the rebellion against Hathorn, had given him a very high reputation among the boys; and in spite of Mather’s greater age and weight there were many who thought that Ned Sankey would make a tough fight of it with the cock of the school.
So the gathering broke up and the boys set to at their games, which were played with a heartiness and zest all the greater that none of them were in pain from recent punishment, and that they could look forward to the afternoon without fear and trembling.
When at twelve o’clock the boys of the first class came out from school the others crowded round to hear the result of the morning’s lessons. They looked bright and pleased.
“I think he is going to turn out a brick,” Ripon, the head of the first class, said. “Of course one can’t tell yet. He was very quiet with us and had a regular examination of each of us. I don’t think he was at all satisfied, though we all did our best, but there was no shouting or scolding. We are to go in again this afternoon with the rest. He says there’s something which he forgot to mention to us this morning.”
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