deven367/babylm-100M-gutenberg · Datasets at Hugging Face

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George now began to give way to a sarcastic method, took up Ward's
pompous remarks and made jokes of them so that that young divine chafed
and almost choked over his great meals. He made Madame Esmond angry, and
doubly so when he sent off Harry into fits of laughter. Her authority was
defied, her officer scorned and insulted, her youngest child perverted by
the obstinate elder brother. She made a desperate and unhappy attempt to
maintain her power.
The boys were fourteen years of age, Harry being now taller and more
advanced than his brother, who was delicate and as yet almost childlike
in stature and appearance. The flogging method was quite a common mode
of argument in these days. Our little boys had been horsed many a day by
Mr. Dempster, their Scotch tutor, in their grandfather's time; and
Harry, especially, had got to be quite accustomed to the practice, and
made very light of it. But since Colonel Esmond's death, the cane had
been laid aside, and the young gentlemen at Castlewood had been allowed
to have their own way. Her own and her lieutenant's authority being now
spurned by the youthful rebels, the unfortunate mother thought of
restoring it by means of coercion. She took counsel of Mr. Ward. That
athletic young pedagogue could easily find chapter and verse to warrant
the course he wished to pursue,--in fact, there was no doubt about the
wholesomeness of the practice in those days. He had begun by flattering
the boys, finding a good berth and snug quarters at Castlewood, and
hoping to remain there. But they laughed at his flattery, they scorned
his bad manners, they yawned soon at his sermons; the more their mother
favoured him, the more they disliked him; and so the tutor and the
pupils cordially hated each other.
Mrs. Mountain warned the lads to be prudent, and that some conspiracy was
hatching against them; saying, "You must be on your guard, my poor boys.
You must learn your lessons and not anger your tutor. Your mamma was
talking about you to Mr. Washington the other day when I came into the
room. I don't like that Major Washington, you know I don't. He is very
handsome and tall, and he may be very good, but show me his wild oats I
say--not a grain! Well, I happened to step in last Tuesday when he was
here with your mamma, and I am sure they were talking about you, for he
said, 'Discipline is discipline, and must be preserved. There can be but
one command in a house, ma'am, and you must be the mistress of yours.'"
"The very words he used to me," cries Harry. "He told me that he did not
like to meddle with other folks' affairs, but that our mother was very
angry, and he begged me to obey Mr. Ward, and to press George to do so."
"Let him manage his own house, not mine," says George very haughtily. And
the caution, far from benefiting him, only made the lad more scornful and
rebellious.
On the next day the storm broke. Words were passed between George and Mr.
Ward during the morning study. The boy was quite disobedient and unjust.
Even his faithful brother cried out, and owned that he was in the wrong.
Mr. Ward bottled up his temper until the family met at dinner, when he
requested Madame Esmond to stay, and laid the subject of discussion
before her.
He asked Master Harry to confirm what he had said; and poor Harry was
obliged to admit all his statements.
George, standing under his grandfather's portrait by the chimney, said
haughtily that what Mr. Ward had said was perfectly correct.
"To be a tutor to such a pupil is absurd," said Mr. Ward, making a long
speech containing many scripture phrases, at each of which young George
smiled scornfully; and at length Ward ended by asking her honour's leave
to retire.
"Not before you have punished this wicked and disobedient child," said
Madame Esmond.
"Punish!" exclaimed George.
"Yes, sir, punish! If means of love and entreaty fail, other means must
be found to bring you to obedience. I punish you now, rebellious boy, to
guard you from greater punishment hereafter. The discipline of this
family must be maintained. There can be but one command in a house, and I
must be the mistress of mine. You will punish this refractory boy, Mr.
Ward, as we have agreed, and if there is the least resistance on his part
my overseer and servants will lend you aid."
In the midst of his mother's speech George Esmond felt that he had been
wronged. "There can be but one command in the house and you must be
mistress. I know who said those words before you," George said slowly,
and looking very white, "and--and I know, mother, that I have acted
wrongly to Mr. Ward."
"He owns it! He asks pardon!" cries Harry. "That's right, George! That's
enough, isn't it?"
"No, it is _not_ enough! I know that he who spares the rod spoils the
child, ungrateful boy!" says Madame Esmond, with more references of the
same nature, which George heard, looking very pale and desperate.
Upon the mantelpiece stood a china cup, by which the widow set great
store, as her father had always been accustomed to drink from it. George
suddenly took it, and a strange smile passed over his pale face.
"Stay one minute. Don't go away yet," he cried to his mother, who was
leaving the room. "You are very fond of this cup, mother?" and Harry
looked at him wondering. "If I broke it, it could never be mended, could
it? My dear old grandpapa's cup! I have been wrong. Mr. Ward, I ask
pardon. I will try and amend."
The widow looked at her son indignantly. "I thought," she said, "I
thought an Esmond had been more of a man than to be afraid, and--" Here
she gave a little scream, as Harry uttered an exclamation and dashed
forward with his hands stretched out towards his brother.
George, after looking at the cup, raised it, opened his hand and let it
fall on the marble slab before him. Harry had tried in vain to catch it.
"It is too late, Hal," George said. "You will never mend that
again--never. Now, mother, I am ready, as it is your wish. Will you come
and see whether I am afraid? Mr. Ward, I am your servant. Your servant?
Your slave! And the next time I meet Mr. Washington, Madame, I will thank
him for the advice which he gave you."
"I say, do your duty, sir!" cried Mrs. Esmond, stamping her little foot.
And George, making a low bow to Mr. Ward, begged him to go first out of
the room to the study.
"Stop! For God's sake, mother, stop!" cried poor Hal. But passion was
boiling in the little woman's heart, and she would not hear the boy's

George now began to give way to a sarcastic method, took up Ward's

pompous remarks and made jokes of them so that that young divine chafed

and almost choked over his great meals. He made Madame Esmond angry, and

doubly so when he sent off Harry into fits of laughter. Her authority was

defied, her officer scorned and insulted, her youngest child perverted by

the obstinate elder brother. She made a desperate and unhappy attempt to

maintain her power.

The boys were fourteen years of age, Harry being now taller and more

advanced than his brother, who was delicate and as yet almost childlike

in stature and appearance. The flogging method was quite a common mode

of argument in these days. Our little boys had been horsed many a day by

Mr. Dempster, their Scotch tutor, in their grandfather's time; and

Harry, especially, had got to be quite accustomed to the practice, and

made very light of it. But since Colonel Esmond's death, the cane had

been laid aside, and the young gentlemen at Castlewood had been allowed

to have their own way. Her own and her lieutenant's authority being now

spurned by the youthful rebels, the unfortunate mother thought of

restoring it by means of coercion. She took counsel of Mr. Ward. That

athletic young pedagogue could easily find chapter and verse to warrant

the course he wished to pursue,--in fact, there was no doubt about the

wholesomeness of the practice in those days. He had begun by flattering

the boys, finding a good berth and snug quarters at Castlewood, and

hoping to remain there. But they laughed at his flattery, they scorned

his bad manners, they yawned soon at his sermons; the more their mother

favoured him, the more they disliked him; and so the tutor and the

pupils cordially hated each other.

Mrs. Mountain warned the lads to be prudent, and that some conspiracy was

hatching against them; saying, "You must be on your guard, my poor boys.

You must learn your lessons and not anger your tutor. Your mamma was

talking about you to Mr. Washington the other day when I came into the

room. I don't like that Major Washington, you know I don't. He is very

handsome and tall, and he may be very good, but show me his wild oats I

say--not a grain! Well, I happened to step in last Tuesday when he was

here with your mamma, and I am sure they were talking about you, for he

said, 'Discipline is discipline, and must be preserved. There can be but

one command in a house, ma'am, and you must be the mistress of yours.'"

"The very words he used to me," cries Harry. "He told me that he did not

like to meddle with other folks' affairs, but that our mother was very

angry, and he begged me to obey Mr. Ward, and to press George to do so."

"Let him manage his own house, not mine," says George very haughtily. And

the caution, far from benefiting him, only made the lad more scornful and

rebellious.

On the next day the storm broke. Words were passed between George and Mr.

Ward during the morning study. The boy was quite disobedient and unjust.

Even his faithful brother cried out, and owned that he was in the wrong.

Mr. Ward bottled up his temper until the family met at dinner, when he

requested Madame Esmond to stay, and laid the subject of discussion

before her.

He asked Master Harry to confirm what he had said; and poor Harry was

obliged to admit all his statements.

George, standing under his grandfather's portrait by the chimney, said

haughtily that what Mr. Ward had said was perfectly correct.

"To be a tutor to such a pupil is absurd," said Mr. Ward, making a long

speech containing many scripture phrases, at each of which young George

smiled scornfully; and at length Ward ended by asking her honour's leave

to retire.

"Not before you have punished this wicked and disobedient child," said

Madame Esmond.

"Punish!" exclaimed George.

"Yes, sir, punish! If means of love and entreaty fail, other means must

be found to bring you to obedience. I punish you now, rebellious boy, to

guard you from greater punishment hereafter. The discipline of this

family must be maintained. There can be but one command in a house, and I

must be the mistress of mine. You will punish this refractory boy, Mr.

Ward, as we have agreed, and if there is the least resistance on his part

my overseer and servants will lend you aid."

In the midst of his mother's speech George Esmond felt that he had been

wronged. "There can be but one command in the house and you must be

mistress. I know who said those words before you," George said slowly,

and looking very white, "and--and I know, mother, that I have acted

wrongly to Mr. Ward."

"He owns it! He asks pardon!" cries Harry. "That's right, George! That's

enough, isn't it?"

"No, it is _not_ enough! I know that he who spares the rod spoils the

child, ungrateful boy!" says Madame Esmond, with more references of the

same nature, which George heard, looking very pale and desperate.

Upon the mantelpiece stood a china cup, by which the widow set great

store, as her father had always been accustomed to drink from it. George

suddenly took it, and a strange smile passed over his pale face.

"Stay one minute. Don't go away yet," he cried to his mother, who was

leaving the room. "You are very fond of this cup, mother?" and Harry

looked at him wondering. "If I broke it, it could never be mended, could

it? My dear old grandpapa's cup! I have been wrong. Mr. Ward, I ask

pardon. I will try and amend."

The widow looked at her son indignantly. "I thought," she said, "I

thought an Esmond had been more of a man than to be afraid, and--" Here

she gave a little scream, as Harry uttered an exclamation and dashed

forward with his hands stretched out towards his brother.

George, after looking at the cup, raised it, opened his hand and let it

fall on the marble slab before him. Harry had tried in vain to catch it.

"It is too late, Hal," George said. "You will never mend that

again--never. Now, mother, I am ready, as it is your wish. Will you come

and see whether I am afraid? Mr. Ward, I am your servant. Your servant?

Your slave! And the next time I meet Mr. Washington, Madame, I will thank

him for the advice which he gave you."

"I say, do your duty, sir!" cried Mrs. Esmond, stamping her little foot.

And George, making a low bow to Mr. Ward, begged him to go first out of

the room to the study.

"Stop! For God's sake, mother, stop!" cried poor Hal. But passion was

boiling in the little woman's heart, and she would not hear the boy's