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Thomas Smart Hughes. Tom Brown’s School Days
TOM BROWN’S SCHOOL DAYS. Thomas Hughes
History of Collins
Life & Times
CHAPTER 1. The Brown Family
CHAPTER 2. The “Veast.”
CHAPTER 3. Sundry Wars and Alliances
CHAPTER 4. The Stage Coach
CHAPTER 5. Rugby and Football
CHAPTER 6. After the Match
CHAPTER 7. Settling to the Collar
CHAPTER 8. The War of Independence
CHAPTER 9. A Chapter of Accidents
PART II
CHAPTER 1. How the Tide Turned
CHAPTER 2. The New Boy
CHAPTER 3. Arthur Makes a Friend
CHAPTER 4. The Bird-Fanciers
CHAPTER 5. The Fight:
CHAPTER 6. Fever in the School
CHAPTER 7. Harry East’s Dilemmas and Deliverances
CHAPTER 8. Tom Brown’s Last Match
CHAPTER 9. Finis
Footnotes
CLASSIC LITERATURE: WORDS AND PHRASES adapted from the Collins English Dictionary
Copyright
About the Publisher
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Title Page
History of Collins
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“Good-day, sir, and a pleasant ride to ’ee.”
And now, my boys, you whom I want to get for readers, have you had enough? Will you give in at once, and say you’re convinced, and let me begin my story, or will you have more of it? Remember, I’ve only been over a little bit of the hillside yet—what you could ride round easily on your ponies in an hour. I’m only just come down into the Vale, by Blowing Stone Hill; and if I once begin about the Vale, what’s to stop me? You’ll have to hear all about Wantage, the birthplace of Alfred, and Farringdon, which held out so long for Charles the First (the Vale was near Oxford, and dreadfully malignant—full of Throgmortons, Puseys, and Pyes, and such like; and their brawny retainers). Did you ever read Thomas Ingoldsby’s “Legend of Hamilton Tighe”? If you haven’t, you ought to have. Well, Farringdon is where he lived, before he went to sea; his real name was Hamden Pye, and the Pyes were the great folk at Farringdon. Then there’s Pusey. You’ve heard of the Pusey horn, which King Canute gave to the Puseys of that day, and which the gallant old squire, lately gone to his rest (whom Berkshire freeholders turned out of last Parliament, to their eternal disgrace, for voting according to his conscience), used to bring out on high days, holidays, and bonfire nights. And the splendid old cross church at Uffington, the Uffingas town. How the whole countryside teems with Saxon names and memories! And the old moated grange at Compton, nestled close under the hillside, where twenty Marianas may have lived, with its bright water-lilies in the moat, and its yew walk, “the cloister walk,” and its peerless terraced gardens. There they all are, and twenty things beside, for those who care about them, and have eyes. And these are the sort of things you may find, I believe, every one of you, in any common English country neighbourhood.
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