the tutor's proposal—a teachers' meeting
i think it was mr. clerke who first suggested that we should take the sunday scholars and teachers for a holiday trip. such things are matters of course now in every parish, but in my childhood it was considered a most marvellous idea by our rustic population. the tutor had heard of some extraordinarily active parson who had done the like by his schools, and partly from real kindness, and partly in the spirit of emulation which intrudes even upon schemes of benevolence, he was most anxious that we at dacrefield should not "be behindhand" in good works. competition is a feeling with which children have great sympathy, and i warmly echoed mr. clerke's resolve that we would not "be behindhand."
"let us go to the rectory at once," said i; "mr. andrewes said we might have some of those big yellow raspberries, and we must ask him about it. it's a splendid idea. but where shall we go?"
the matter resolved itself into this question. the rector was quite willing for the treat. my father gave us a handsome subscription; the farmers followed the squire's lead. mr. andrewes was not behindhand. the tutor and i considered the object a suitable one for aid from our alms-box.[152] there was no difficulty whatever. only—where were we to go?
finally, we all decided that we would go to oakford.
it was not because oakford had been the end of our consultation long ago, after my illness, nor because nurse bundle had any voice in the matter, it was a certain bullet-headed, slow-tongued old farmer, one of our teachers, who voted for our going to oakford; and more by persistently repeating his advice than by any very strong reasons there seemed to be for our following it, he carried the day.
"i've know'd oakford, man and boy, for twenty year," he repeated, at intervals of three minutes or so, during what would now be called a "teachers' meeting" in the school-room. in fact, oakford was his native place, though he was passing his old age in dacrefield, and he had a natural desire to see it again, and a natural belief that the spot where he had been young and strong, and light-hearted, had especial merits of its own.
even though we had nothing better to propose, old giles' love for home would hardly have decided us, but he had something more to add. there was a "gentleman's place" on the outskirts of oakford, which sometimes, in the absence of the family, was "shown" to the public: old giles had seen it as a boy, and the picture he drew of its glories fairly carried us away, the rector and tutor excepted. they shrugged their shoulders with faces of comical despair as the old man, having fairly taken the lead, babbled on about the "picters," the "stattys," and the "yaller satin cheers" in the grand drawing-room; whilst the other teachers listened with open mouths, and an evident and[153] growing desire to see oakford grange. i did not half believe in old giles' wonders, and yet i wished to see the place myself, if only to learn how much of all he described to us was true. i supposed that "the family" must have been at home when i was at oakford, or mr. and mrs. buckle would surely have taken me to see the grange.
the rector suggested that the family might be at home now, and we might have our expedition for nothing; but it appeared that old giles' sister's grandson had been over to see his great-uncle only a fortnight ago, "come tuesday," and had distinctly stated that the family "was in furrin' parts," and would be so for months to come. moreover, he had said that there was a rumour that the place was to be sold, and nobody knew if the next owner would allow it to be "shown," even in his absence. thus it was evident that if we wanted to see the grange, it must be "now or never."
on hearing this, our fattest and richest farmer (he took an upper class in school more in deference to his position than to the rather scanty education which accompanied it) rose and addressed the rector as follows:—
"reverend sir. i takes the liberty of rising and addressin' of you, with my respex to yourself and mr. clerke, and the young gentleman as represents the squire i've a-been tenant to, man and boy, this thirty year and am proud to name it." (murmurs of applause from one or two other farmers present, my father being very popular.)
"reverend sir. i began with bird-scaring, and not a penny in my pocket, that wouldn't have held coppers for holes, if i had, and clothes that would have scared of themselves, letting alone clappers. the squire knows how much of his land i have[154] under my hand now, and your reverence is acquainted with the years i've been churchwarden.
"reverend sir. i am proud to have rose by my own exertions. i never iggerantly set myself against improvements and opportoonities." (gloom upon the face of the teacher of the fourth class, who objected to machinery, and disbelieved in artificial manures.) "my mottor 'as allus been, 'never lose a chance;' and that's what i ses on this occasion; 'never lose a chance.'"
as our churchwarden backed his advice by offering to lend waggons and horses to take us to oakford, if the other farmers would do the same, his speech decided the matter. we all wanted to go to oakford, and to oakford it was decided that we should go.
