This prediction scarcely troubled me, and since the
motherly creature never disturbed me until I had slept a good nine
hours by the clock, I do not think she was really distressed on
this score.
Until I reached my eleventh birthday I did not go to school, being
taught to read and write and cipher by my father himself. But one
day he set me before him on his horse and rode into Shrewsbury,
where, after a solemn interview with Mr. Lloyd, the master, I was
put into the accidence class at King Edward's famous school. As we
rode back, I remember that my father, who was generally so silent,
talked to me more than ever before, about school, and work, and the
great men who had been in past time pupils in the same school,
notably Sir Phillip Sidney. And from that day I used to trudge
every morning, barring holidays, into the town, and say my hic,
haec, hoc as well, I verily believe, as the rest of my schoolfellows.
But with the opening of my school days I began to know what misery
was. My lessons gave me little trouble, and the masters were kind
enough; but among the boys there were two who, before long, kept me
in a constant state of terror. They were older than I by some four
or five years, and in school I never saw them; but outside they
used to waylay me, tormenting me in many ingenious ways. Looking
back now I see that much of my terror was needless. They seldom
ill-treated me in act; but knowing, I suppose, that the imagination
is often very apprehensive in weakly bodies like mine, they took a
delight in threatening me, conjuring up all manner of imaginary
horrors, and so working on me that my sleep was disturbed by
hideous nightmares.
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