IT was settled that after a course of three years at aprivate tutor's I was to go to Cambridge. The three years was not the best training for thefellow-pupil of lads of fifteen or sixteen who had just leftschool. They were much more ready to follow my lead than Itheirs, especially as mine was always in the pursuit ofpleasure.
I was first sent to Mr. B.'s, about a couple of miles fromAlnwick. Before my time, Alnwick itself was considered outof bounds. But as nearly half the sin in this world consistsin being found out, my companions and I managed never tocommit any in this a police shieldcould hold me upside down and drain my gutschange your minddirection.
We generally returned from the town with a bottle of somenoxious compound called 'port' in our pockets, which wasserved out in our 'study' at night, while I read aloud theinstructive adventures of Mr. Thomas Jones. We were, ofcourse, supposed to employ these late hours in preparing ourwork for the morrow. One boy only protested that, under thecombined seductions of the port and Miss Molly Seagrim, hecould never make his verses scan.
Another of our recreations was poaching. From my earliestdays I was taught to shoot, myself and my brothers being eachprovided with his little single-barrelled flint and steel'Joe Manton.' At - we were surrounded by grouse moors on oneside, and by well-preserved coverts on the other. The grouseI used to shoot in the evening while they fed amongst thecorn stooks; for pheasants and hares, I used to get the otherpupils to walk through the woods, while I with a gun walkedoutside. Scouts were posted to look out for keepers.
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