hole it didn't suit him, or he it, and in the holidays
he was constantly working the Squire to send him at once to a public
school. Great was his joy, then, when in the middle of his third
half-year, in October, 183-, a fever broke out in the village; and the
master having himself slightly sickened of it, the whole of the boys
were sent off at a week's notice to their respective homes.

The Squire was not quite so pleased as Master Tom to see that young
gentleman's brown, merry face appear at home, some two months before
the proper time, for the Christmas Holidays; and so, after putting on
his thinking-cap, he retired to his study and wrote several letters,
the result of which was, that one morning at the breakfast-table,
about a fortnight after Tom's return, he addressed his wife with: "My
dear, I have arranged that Tom shall go to Rugby[51] at once, for the
last six weeks of this half-year, instead of wasting them, riding and
loitering about home. It is very kind of the Doctor[52] to allow it.
Will you see that his things are all ready by Friday, when I shall
take him up to town, and send him down the next day by himself!"

[51] #Rugby#: a small village in Warwickshire on the river
Avon, nearly in the centre of England. It is the seat of Rugby
School,--one of the great public schools,--and was founded by
Lawrence Sheriff, a native of the neighboring village of
Brownsover, in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. The school owes
its fame chiefly to Dr. Arnold, who became head master in
1827, and held the position until his death in 1842.

[52] #Doctor#: Dr. Arnold.

Mrs. Brown was prepared for the announcement, and merely suggested a
doubt whether Tom were yet old enough to travel by himself. However,
finding both father and son against her on this point, she gave in,
like a wise woman, and proceeded to prepare Tom's kit[53] for his
launch into a public school.

[53] #Kit#: here, clothes.

CHAPTER IV.

THE STAGE COACH.

"Let the steam-pot hiss till it's hot,
Give me the speed of the Tantivy trot."

_Coaching song by R. E. E. Warburton, Esq._

"Now, sir, time to get up, if you please. Tally-ho[1] coach for
Leicester'll be round in half an hour, and don't wait for nobody." So
spake the Boots[2] of the Peacock Inn, Islington,[3] at half-past two
o'clock on the morning of a day in the early part of November, 183-,
giving Tom at the same time