Stitch by Jaime Lewis (inspirational books to read .TXT) 📕

do, for I end with 'Fico!'”

“Be mollified, sweet giant,” said Frank, “and spare the rash youth of yon foolish knight. Shall elephants catch flies, or Hurlo-Thrumbo stain his club with brains of Dagonet the jester? Be mollified; leave thy caverned grumblings, like Etna when its windy wrath is past, and discourse eloquence from thy central omphalos, like Pythoness ventriloquizing.”

“If you do begin laughing at me too, Mr. Leigh ——” said the giant's clock-face, in a piteous tone.

“I laugh not. Art thou not Ordulf the earl, and I thy humblest squire? Speak up, my lord; your cousin, my Lady Bath, commands you.”

And at last the giant began:—

“A giant I, Earl Ordulf men me call,— 'Gainst Paynim foes Devonia's champion tall; In single fight six thousand Turks I slew; Pull'd off a lion's head, and ate it too: With one shrewd blow, to let St. Edward in, I smote the gates of Exeter in twain; Till aged grown, by angels warn'd in dream, I built an abbey fair by Tavy stream. But treacherous time hath tripped my glories up, The stanch old hound must yield to stancher pup; Here's one so tall as I, and twice so bold, Where I took only cuffs, takes good red gold. From pole to pole resound his wondrous works, Who slew more Spaniards than I e'er slew Turks; I strode across the Tavy stream: but he Strode round the world and back; and here 'a be!”

“Oh, bathos!” said Lady Bath, while the 'prentices shouted applause. “Is this hedge-bantling to be fathered on you, Mr. Frank?”

“It is necessary, by all laws of the drama, madam,” said Frank, with a sly smile, “that the speech and the speaker shall fit each other. Pass on, Earl Ordulf; a more learned worthy waits.”

Whereon, up came a fresh member of the procession; namely, no less a person than Vindex Brimblecombe, the ancient schoolmaster, with five-and-forty boys at his heels, who halting, pulled out his spectacles, and thus signified his forgiveness of his whilom broken head:—

“That the world should have been circumnavigated, ladies and gentles, were matter enough of jubilation to the student of Herodotus and Plato, Plinius and —— ahem! much more when the circumnavigators are Britons; more, again, when Damnonians.”

“Don't swear, master,” said young Will Cary.

“Gulielme Cary, Gulielme Cary, hast thou forgotten thy—”

“Whippings? Never, old lad! Go on; but let not the license of the scholar overtop the modesty of the Christian.”

“More again, as I said, when, incolae, inhabitants of Devon; but, most of all, men of Bideford school. Oh renowned school! Oh schoolboys ennobled by fellowship with him! Oh most happy pedagogue, to whom it has befallen to have chastised a circumnavigator, and, like another Chiron, trained another Hercules: yet more than Hercules, for he placed his pillars on the ocean shore, and then returned; but my scholar's voyage—”

“Hark how the old fox is praising himself all along on the sly,” said Cary.

“Mr. William, Mr. William, peace;—silentium, my graceless pupil. Urge the foaming steed, and strike terror into the rapid stag, but meddle not with matters too high for thee.”

“He has given you the dor now, sir,” said Lady Bath; “let the old man say his say.”

“I bring, therefore, as my small contribution to this day's feast; first a Latin epigram, as thus—”

“Latin? Let us hear it forthwith,” cried my lady.

And the old pedant mouthed out—

“Torriguiam Tamaris ne spernat; Leighius addet Mox terras terris, inclyte Drake, tuis.”

“Neat, i' faith, la!” Whereon all the rest, as in duty bound, approved also.

“This for the erudite: for vulgar ears the vernacular is more consonant, sympathetic, instructive; as thus:—

“Famed Argo ship, that noble chip, by doughty Jason's steering, Brought back to Greece the golden fleece, from Colchis home careering; But now her fame is put to shame, while new Devonian Argo, Round earth doth run in wake of sun, and brings wealthier cargo.”

“Runs with a right fa-lal-la,” observed Cary; “and would go nobly to a fiddle and a big drum.”

“Ye Spaniards, quake! our doughty Drake a royal swan is tested, On wing and oar, from shore to shore, the raging main who breasted:— But never needs to chant his deeds, like swan that lies a-dying, So far his name, by trump of fame, around the sphere is flying.”

“Hillo ho! schoolmaster!” shouted a voice from behind; “move on, and make way for Father Neptune!” Whereon a whole storm of raillery fell upon the hapless pedagogue.

“We waited for the parson's alligator, but we wain't for yourn.”

“Allegory! my children, allegory!” shrieked the man of letters.

“What do ye call he an alligator for? He is but a poor little starved evat!”

“Out of the road, old Custis! March on, Don Palmado!”

These allusions to the usual instrument of torture in West-country schools made the old gentleman wince; especially when they were followed home by—

“Who stole Admiral Grenville's brooms, because birch rods were dear?”

But proudly he shook his bald head, as a bull shakes off the flies, and returned to the charge once more.

“Great Alexander, famed commander, wept and made a pother, At conquering only half the world, but Drake had conquer'd t'other; And Hercules to brink of seas!—”

“Oh—!”

And clapping both hands to the back of his neck, the schoolmaster began dancing frantically about, while his boys broke out tittering, “O! the ochidore! look to the blue ochidore! Who've put ochidore to maister's poll!”

It was too true: neatly inserted, as he stooped forward, between his neck and his collar, was a large live shore-crab, holding on tight with both hands.

“Gentles! good Christians! save me! I am mare-rode! Incubo, vel ab incubo, opprimor! Satanas has me by the poll! Help! he tears my jugular; he wrings my neck, as he does to Dr. Faustus in the play. Confiteor!—I confess! Satan, I defy thee! Good people, I confess! [Greek text]! The truth will out. Mr. Francis Leigh wrote the epigram!” And diving through the crowd, the pedagogue vanished howling, while Father Neptune, crowned with sea-weeds, a trident in one hand, and a live dog-fish in the other, swaggered up the street surrounded by a tall bodyguard of mariners, and followed by a great banner, on which was depicted a globe, with Drake's ship sailing thereon upside down, and overwritten—

“See every man the Pelican, Which round the world did go, While her stern-post was uppermost, And topmasts down below. And by the way she lost a day, Out of her log was stole: But Neptune kind, with favoring wind, Hath brought her safe