time--on
July 17, 1782: Coleridge was then nearly ten, Lamb was seven and a
half. Coleridge was "clothed" on July 18 and went to Hertford for
a while; Lamb was clothed on October 9. Lamb left the school in
November, 1789, Coleridge in September, 1791.

The school which Lamb knew is now no more. The boys are now all in new
buildings in the midst of green fields near Horsham, many miles from
Lamb's city and its roar.

Page 14, line 15. _The worthy sub-treasurer._ Randal Norris (see note
to "A Death-Bed"). I have not been able to discover the cause of his
influence.

Page 14, lines 18, 19. _Crug ... piggins._ Crug is still current
slang. In the school museum one of these piggins is preserved.

Page 14, line 25. _Three banyan days._ Three vegetarian days.
Coleridge complains (in a letter to Poole) that he was never
sufficiently fed except on Wednesdays. He gives the following table of
food:--

Our diet was very scanty. Every morning a bit of dry bread and
some bad small beer. Every evening a larger piece of bread, and
cheese or butter, whichever we liked. For dinner,--on Sunday,
boiled beef and broth; Monday, bread and butter, and milk and
water; Tuesday, roast mutton; Wednesday, bread and butter, and
rice milk; Thursday, boiled beef and broth; Friday, boiled mutton
and broth; Saturday, bread and butter, and pease-porridge. Our
food was portioned; and, excepting on Wednesdays, I never had a
bellyfull. Our appetites were damped, never satisfied; and we had
no vegetables.

Page 14, line 8 from foot. _Caro equina._ Horseflesh. Mr. Pearce's
chapter on food at the school in his excellent _Annals of Christ's
Hospital_ is very interesting, and records great changes.
Rotten-roasted or rare, _i.e._, over-roasted or under-done.

Page 15, line 3. _The good old relative._ Aunt Hetty, or more
properly, Sarah Lamb. Compare the "Lines written on the Day of my
Aunt's Funeral," Vol. IV.:--

I have not forgot
How thou didst love thy Charles, when he was yet
A prating schoolboy: I have not forgot
The busy joy on that important day,
When, childlike, the poor wanderer was content
To leave the bosom of parental love,
His childhood's play-place, and his early home,
For the rude fosterings of a stranger's hand,
Hard, uncouth tasks, and schoolboys' scanty fare.
How did thine eyes peruse him round and round
And hardly knew him in his yellow coats,
Red leathern belt, and