: R. D. Blackmore
: Delphi Classics
: Lorna Doone by R. D. Blackmore - Delphi Classics (Illustrated)
: Delphi Classics
: 9781788779258
: 1
: CHF 0.10
:
: Erzählende Literatur
: English
: 645
: DRM
: PC/MAC/eReader/Tablet
: ePUB
This eBook features the unabridged text of 'Lorna Doone by R. D. Blackmore - Delphi Classics (Illustrated)' from the bestselling edition of 'The Complete Works of R. D. Blackmore'.

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CHAPTER II


AN IMPORTANT ITEM

NOWTHECAUSE of my leaving Tiverton school, and the way of it, were as follows. On the 29th day of November, in the year of our Lord 1673, the very day when I was twelve years old, and had spent all my substance in sweetmeats, with which I made treat to the little boys, till the large boys ran in and took them, we came out of school at five o’clock, as the rule is upon Tuesdays. According to custom we drove the day-boys in brave rout down the causeway from the school-porch even to the gate where Cop has his dwelling and duty. Little it recked us and helped them less, that they were our founder’s citizens, and haply his own grand-nephews (for he left no direct descendants), neither did we much inquire what their lineage was. For it had long been fixed among us, who were of the house and chambers, that these same day-boys were all ‘caddes,’ as we had discovered to call it, because they paid no groat for their schooling, and brought their own commons with them. In consumption of these we would help them, for our fare in hall fed appetite; and while we ate their victuals, we allowed them freely to talk to us. Nevertheless, we could not feel, when all the victuals were gone, but that these boys required kicking from the premises of Blundell. And some of them were shopkeepers’ sons, young grocers, fellmongers, and poulterers, and these to their credit seemed to know how righteous it was to kick them. But others were of high family, as any need be, in Devon — Carews, and Bouchiers, and Bastards, and some of these would turn sometimes, and strike the boy that kicked them. But to do them justice, even these knew that they must be kicked for not paying.

After these ‘charity-boys’ were gone, as in contumely we called them— ‘If you break my bag on my head,’ said one, ‘how will feed thence to-morrow?’ — and after old Cop with clang of iron had jammed the double gates in under the scruff-stone archway, whereupon are Latin verses, done in brass of small quality, some of us who were not hungry, and cared not for the supper-bell, having sucked much parliament and dumps at my only charges — not that I ever bore much wealth, but because I had been thrifting it f