Twm improves in the curate’s school. His wit saves him from a flogging. The great success of Catti’s school excited the ill will of Parson Evans, although he had far more scholars than he could possibly attend to. His indignation at his wife’s fall from her horse into the well, while passing his humble rival’s seminary, together with the humiliating consideration that many of the most juvenile deserted his rule, to submit to her’s, wounded this consequential personage to the quick. With an awkward attempt at a smile, he feigned to consider the seceders as a good riddance, and that it was not worth his while to teach babies to walk as well as to instruct them in their letters; this in fact, ought to have been the case, but it was not; for Evans, “like the turk, could bear no rival near the throne.” This new arrangement respecting Twm, they thought could not but be vexatious to Catti, and therefore Mistress Evans felt herself avenged for the tittering that she heard in her school, on her fall into the well as before mentioned. But far different was the Little Twm was now in his seventh year, and as refractory a pupil as ever was spoiled by a dawdling mother. Kept aloof from his dear duck-ponds and puddles, and compelled to explore the mysteries of the horn-book, this first change in his life was acutely felt. Self-willed and stubborn, he conceived the utmost abhorrence of horn-books, cross curates, and birch-rods; he wept and sulked, struck the boys who mocked him, stayed away from school, and was flogged so often, that at length he found it much easier to learn his book, than endure the consequence of neglecting it. Once arrived to this happy mood, and being one day praised by his master, a new spirit possessed the boy; emulation was kindled, and he resolved to revenge himself on those youths who formerly had made him their butt of ridicule, by getting the start of them in learning. The horn-book was shortly thrown by; the reading-made-easy and spelling book soon shared a similar fate; and the pride of his young heart sparkled in his eyes when his great lady aunt, on hearing a good account of him from his master, presented him with a bible, on the inside of the cover of which was the following couplet,—
These lines were not only written by her own fair hand, but actually of her own composition; Notwithstanding his rapid advancement in book learning, Parson Evans was far from being satisfied with his pupil, nor was his main end answered in having brought him to his school. Twm loved his mother, and felt no great affection for his master, nor gratitude for the floggings which had enforced so much learning into his head; and never could the generous boy be brought to tell any tales to her disadvantage. The curate’s severity increased, and no longer praised or encouraged, Twm became not only indifferent to his tasks, but wanton and unjust severity had the effect of blunting his feelings and making him stubborn and revengeful; and at length he arrived at such an extremity of youthful recklessness as to study tricks for the annoyance of his master and fellow scholars. In the eleventh year of his age some decisive shoots of character made their appearance; a taste for sharp sayings, and skilful trickery in outwitting his opponents, appear to have been his striking peculiarities, as well as boldness and resolution on the play ground, where none could surpass him in robustuous or violent exercises. Wat the mole-catcher, his constant instructor when out of school, among other accomplishments had taught him to play at cudgels, and not a boy in the school could stand before him at the quarter staff. His pre-eminence in this ancient and national art was often exemplified “I forbid the banns!” roared Twm ShÔn Catti; “For what reason?” cries the awful pedant, flourishing his rod in eager preparation; “Because,” cries the waggish urchin, “the parties are not yet agreed.” Although Evans was generally too crabbed and selfish to enjoy and estimate a witty reply in any one except his superiors, who seldom possessed a legitimate claim to his applause, it is but justice to him to record, that this unexpected and ingenious answer procured Twm a remission of his flogging, when on the very brink of execution. |