ed with
very considerable freedom when applying the birch in the recesses of the
boot-room. I must admit that my interviews with Father St. John in the
boot-room were not infrequent. But, after all, the immediate effect soon
passed away and the incident was forgotten. Still, to my surprise, when
the school accounts were rendered at the end of the year, my father was
puzzled over one item, namely, "Birches--L1 2s. 6d." (at the rate of half
a crown each)! He asked me what it meant, and I explained to him as best
I could that dear Father St. John was really the responsible person in
the matter, and I had no doubt my father would get a full explanation
from him if he wrote. But it brought home to me the recollection of nine
visits to the boot-room with that amiable and much-respected Father St.
John. I have within the last few months met again, after my long absence
in other countries, several of my school mates. They are all going strong
and well, holding high positions in this world, and as devoted as ever to
the old school at Edgbaston. One of them is now Viscount Fitzalan,
Viceroy of Ireland.

When my two elder brothers left the Oratory, which I may say was a school
where the boys were allowed very considerable liberty, my father must
have thought, no doubt, when he remembered the twenty-two and sixpence
for birches, that it would be wise to send me somewhere where the rules
of the college were, in his opinion, somewhat stricter. So off I was
sent, early in 1870, to dear old Beaumont College, the Jesuit school,
situated in that beautiful spot on the River Thames just where the old
hostelry The Bells of Ouseley still exists, at the foot of the range of
hills which the glorious Burnham Beeches adorn. The original house was
once the home of Warren Hastings. Four delightful years of school life
followed. It was a pleasure to me to find that there was no extra charge
for birches. The implement that was used to conserve discipline was not
made out of the pliable birch tree, but of a very solid piece of leather
with some stiffening to it--I fancy of steel--called a "ferrula." This
was applied to the palm of the hand, and not to where my old friend the
birch found its billet. As the same ferrula not only lasted a long time
without detriment to itself, but, on the contrary, seemed rather to
improve with age, the authorities were kind enough not to charge for its
use.

No event of any particular interest, except perhaps being ta