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The Belford playground formed a sort of table-land, which swelled gradually up from an extensive range of meadows, through which flowed the Thames, and was terminated at one end by the old-fashioned school-house, and on the other by some monastic ruins, and an artificial green mound, round which ran a brick wall with a broad dry ditch at its base. On this mound stood three magnificent elm-trees, and from its summit—as, indeed, from every other part of the elevated playground a splendid view was commanded of the neighbouring country, and particularly of some high chalk cliffs, which rose precipitously from the river, in the immediate vicinity of a picturesque village about three miles distant from Belford. From the beauty and convenience of its site—it was just on the outskirts of the town, and must originally have formed part of the abbey gardens—this playground, or rather the portion of it nearest the ruins, was a frequent resort of the lower classes of Belford; and fairs, twice a year, were held on it, infinitely to the annoyance of the boys, who considered it as their own exclusive property. Numerous, in consequence, were their quarrels with the "snobs"—as they pertly styled the invaders—and on all these occasions, on one of which he achieved the high honour of a broken head, Raymond was ever foremost to distinguish himself.

One autumnal afternoon when, the day's tasks at an end, the boys were all out on the playground, a fellow, well known by the appropriate nickname of Don Rat, came among them with a bundle of stout ash-sticks under his arm. This genius picked up a precarious subsistence by going about the country selling ballads, and fruit, and walking-sticks; and when this sort of business was slack, by "snapping up," like Autolycus, "unconsidered trifles." Scamp though he was, he was something of a favourite with the school, for he was fond of mischief, which he loved disinterestedly for its own sake, sang a capital song, and was no small proficient in mimicry. On his approach, many of the boys, among whom was Raymond, hurried up to have a chat with him, when he informed them—for he was an inveterate newsmonger, and knew all the gossip of the neighbourhood—that it was the intention of the townsmen on the morrow evening to have a cricket-match on the playground.

"Are you sure of that, Don?" enquired Raymond.

"Cock sure, sir; I heerd some on 'em a discoursing on the affair, as I were passing along the market-place last Wednesday night."

"Humph," replied Henry, sententiously, "then we must pitch into them, gents—that's all."

"Yes, yes," said one of Raymond's ardent admirers and imitators, a young fellow by name Jenkins, "we must lick the snobs off."

"That's easier said nor done," observed Don Rat.

"Nonsense," rejoined Henry, "a dozen of us are a match for a hundred of them."

"May be so; howsomever it's no affair of mine;" and having so said, and disposed of a great portion of his cudgels, at his own, by no means modest, valuation, Don Rat shuffled off the playground, with the intention, if possible, of getting rid of the remainder of his stock among the belligerents of his own order.

The next day being a half-holyday, there was ample time for preparation. Raymond, as commander-in-chief, assembled all his disposable forces, consisting of about a hundred and twenty boys ranging from fourteen to eighteen years of age, in the centre of the playground; appointed Jenkins standard-bearer, and was proceeding to enforce on his troops the necessity of their keeping close together in action, when loud shouts were heard, and presently a mob of cricketers came round the corner from the town. The moment the boys caught sight of them, they gave three stunning cheers, which, reaching the head-master's ears, he threw up his study window, and seeing at a glance how matters stood, called his pupils about him, and severely remonstrated with them on their audacity in disobeying his repeated injunctions, by attempting to pick a quarrel with the townsmen. He was going on in this strain, when Raymond, who was one of his favourites, and was apt to presume on it, apprehensive that the glorious fun would be spoiled, took advantage of an observation let fall by the doctor, to the effect that, if they persisted in their design to assault the mob, they would most assuredly be given in charge—to shout with his utmost force of lungs—"Gents, the doctor says we may charge—hurrah!"

"Hurrah for the charge!" chorused the youngsters, flourishing their cudgels above their heads, and instantly precipitated themselves in a compact phalanx on the enemy, some of whom were busy pitching the wickets, while others were busy tossing up for first innings. Fierce was the rush—tremendous the uproar—irresistible the assault! A dozen snobs at least saluted their mother earth, which so surprised and alarmed the rest, that they fled in disorder to the mound which I have already described, scrambled up the ditch, scaled the wall, and then rallied in a body on the summit. Hither they were immediately followed by the impetuous striplings; but those who reached the mound first, being staggered by the difficulties of the position, halted beside the ditch, till, Raymond coming up, restored their courage by rushing across it, and mounting the wall amid a desperate discharge of stones and bricks, flung down on him by the besieged.

While this was going forward, the doctor, alarmed for the integrity of his pupils' skulls, which frequent rows of this sort had convinced him were by no means brickbat proof, despatched an elder brother of one of his boys, a young Irish ensign of dragoons, who chanced to be dining with him, to the scene of action in the capacity of pacificator! This officer set out on his mission with the sincerest desire to restore peace; but, alas! on reaching the mound, where the besiegers and besieged were busy in strenuous conflict, he could not resist the strong inclination he felt to take an active share in the skrimmage; so, yielding at once to the temptation, he snatched a cudgel from the hands of the lad who stood nearest him, and placing himself beside Raymond, who was cheering on his troops in the very thick of the battle, he drummed away upon the enemy's heads and shoulders with a heartiness of purpose that proved him to be a pacificator of true Irish growth.

After a lively and well-sustained affair of about half-an-hour, towards the close of which Henry was hurled from the mound into the ditch, where he narrowly escaped the enviable distinction of a broken neck, the snobs took to flight; the school banner, fashioned out of his own pillow-case, which he had previously cribbed for the purpose, was planted by the standard-bearer, Jenkins, on the walls of the mound; and a few days afterwards, Raymond, in imitation of Tyrtæus, celebrated the victory in an irregular dithyrambic, which produced, as newspapers say, "an intense sensation" throughout the school.

My hero's next exploit, though of a different nature, was equally characteristic of his peculiar idiosyncrasy. At the Lent Assizes, it was the doctor's custom to grant his senior classes a whole holyday, in order that they might attend the trials in the town-hall, and so get some little insight into the mode of administering the laws of the country. This holyday, however, was not often applied to the purposes for which it was granted; for, except on very extraordinary occasions, the boys never honoured the courts with their presence, preferring instead, to go out sailing or rowing on the Thames, or driving or riding along the high-road. About a week previous to the holding of one of these assizes, it was proposed to Raymond, by his friend Jenkins, to drive over in a tandem to Windsor. The proposition was of course acceded to; but unluckily there was one serious obstacle in the way of its execution—neither of the would-be-whips could summon up more than twelve shillings, and the sum demanded for a day's hire of the vehicle was exactly one guinea! In this exigency, Henry, rendered inventive by necessity, bethought him of turning his attention to a Greek play, by mastering the difficulties of which he knew he could obtain the required sum; for the doctor, in order to stimulate their love of study, was in the habit of rewarding his pupils by money for whatever voluntary work they did out of school hours—sixpence a page, for instance, for repeating passages from the best classic French or English authors; ten shillings for construing a book of Homer, a comedy of Terence, or an oration of Cicero; and a guinea for a play of Æschylus, Sophocles, or Euripides.

Bent on putting his project into execution, and seeing no other way of accomplishing it, Henry resolved on setting to work at a Greek tragedy; and getting up by daybreak on a mild March morning, he commenced operations on the Phœnissæ, which, besides being one of the longest plays of Euripides, contains one or two choral passages as stiff as the abstrusest bits of Pindar. Urged on by the strong pressure of the case, he laboured hard, with the sole aid of his Hederick, and occasional reference to the tame, paraphrastic version of Potter; and, by dinner-time, had got through one-third of his task. After a few hasty mouthfuls of an impracticable leg of mutton, he rose from table and resumed his work; and, after twelve hours incessant application, accomplished it between eight and nine o'clock in the evening, when he repaired to the doctor's study, was subjected to a rigid examination, and finally rewarded with his guinea!

Having thus secured the viaticum, he sought out the enraptured Jenkins, and off they both set, late as was the hour, into town, at the risk—in the event of their being detected "out of bounds"—of a ferocious flogging—engaged the tandem, which they ordered to be in waiting for them at the head of a lane leading off the Belford high-road, and spent a delightful day at Windsor, whose main street to the great horror of its pacific pedestrians, they entered at a gallop to the sound of a key-bugle, and immortalized themselves by the scientific style in which they turned into the "Christopher" at Eton, which, forty years ago—the period to which this tale refers—was far from being the fine hotel which it now is. Thus passed my hero's time, varied by intervals of hard study, till he became what is called "captain of the school," when he was immediately dispatched to the University, there to be his own master, at an age when he most stood in need of strict surveillance.