e subject of his deformed
foot, he described the feeling of horror and humiliation that came
over him when his mother, in one of her fits of passion, called him a
"lame brat."

The sense which Byron always retained of the innocent fault in his
foot was unmanly and excessive; for it was not greatly conspicuous,
and he had a mode of walking across a room by which it was scarcely
at all perceptible. I was several days on board the same ship with
him before I happened to discover the defect; it was indeed so well
concealed, that I was in doubt whether his lameness was the effect of
a temporary accident, or a malformation, until I asked Mr Hobhouse.

On their arrival from Scotland, Byron was placed by his mother under
the care of an empirical pretender of the name of Lavender, at
Nottingham, who professed the cure of such cases; and that he might
not lose ground in his education, he was attended by a respectable
schoolmaster, Mr Rodgers, who read parts of Virgil and Cicero with
him. Of this gentleman he always entertained a kind remembrance.
Nor was his regard in this instance peculiar; for it may be said to
have been a distinguishing trait in his character, to recollect with
affection all who had been about him in his youth. The quack,
however, was an exception; whom (from having caused him to suffer
much pain, and whose pretensions, even young as he then was, he
detected) he delighted to expose. On one occasion, he scribbled down
on a sheet of paper, the letters of the alphabet at random, but in
the form of words and sentences, and placing them before Lavender,
asked him gravely, what language it was. "Italian," was the reply,
to the infinite amusement of the little satirist, who burst into a
triumphant laugh at the success of his stratagem.

It is said that about this time the first symptom of his predilection
for rhyming showed itself. An elderly lady, a visitor to his mother,
had been indiscreet enough to give him some offence, and slights he
generally resented with more energy than they often deserved. This
venerable personage entertained a singular notion respecting the
soul, which she believed took its flight at death to the moon. One
day, after a repetition of her original contumely, he appeared before
his nurse in a violent rage, and complained vehemently of the old
lady, declaring that he could not bear the sight of her, and then he
broke out into the following doggerel, which he repeated over and
over