Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1891-03-22

matters, to the boys themselves, appointing
prapostors rom among the cleverest and
most manly. bestowing upon them privi'
leges and rewards, and exacting certain
| duties. as well as the strictest account
ability. This abolished bullying and the
lawless tyranny OF brute strength in the
everyday life Of the scholars School ira
ditions were not interfered with. Flag
ging" was retained; but by making it the
| exclusive rig ht of 1.-THE Sixth Form" it De-
came more refined and bearable.
He encouraged every manly sport by gen
uine sympathy and personal attention and
oversight. Retter than all, he got down
among the boys, and, without cant, preached
such sermons 10 the students as appealed to
their intelligence and practical necessities
of their everyday life. Never but once did
he speak testify 20 scholar at Rugby. On
this occasion he lost patience with a dullard.
''Why do you speak so angrily, sir? am
doing the best cani" the boy retorted. In
relating the incident DR.. Arnold asserted
that he never felt so ashamed in his life.
From this really great mans labors, Rugby
schooling became the synonym OF all manly
requirements. Because mis- successors have
followed closely the lines laid down, the
educational system of all England has been
| immeasureably improved by this one mag
nifcent model.
In RugDy's Market Square.
Rugby town of to-day has little to at
tract the strangers attention aside from Its
famous school. A maze of illy-coobled
| streets with narrow payements crowd each
other for entrance to little, irregular OBJ
long market place, forming all manner of
fantastic curvings and angles where they
merge into it. On this market square are
the ancient inns, one that stands for the
"Spread Eagle" at which TON Brown"
was set down when he came in the tally-ho
from Islincton, and another one, still more
ancient, known as the ''Three Horse-shoes;"
the old book shops of the place, where bar
gains that would do credit to London East
End dickerers are made with the Rugby
lads for school books, old and new; one or
two perk drapers' stores; few jewelers. and
music dealers; and any number of sweets"
stalls, with their endless temptings to the
school boys palate and purse.
But the quaintest of these are off the mar
ket-place; near it on the by-streets. They
are all hal:-houses and shops. A bell like
fire gong announces your entrance. -Four
generations of servers are in waiting. Old,
old men, reminding one of "little Nell's"
grandfather, are perched in dark, platformed
corners on carved old chairs of state. A
daughter, nearly as old appears with rush
from the living rooms, as though long and
varied skirmishes with solemn visaged but
ingenious youths had made her alert for de-
vice or reprisal. A still younger matron,
perhaps a widow, is pothering among the
boxes and shelves; and prim, peachy and
prudent, a young miss, conscious of her
value as a trade-magnet where there are
thousand lads to know a pretty face when
they see it, comes out of the half-lights,
radiant, wheedling presence.
Many Curious Old Homes.
Near the market square, along these by
streets are MANY curious old nests of homes;
little stone pens with tiny windows, heavy
overhanging gables, chimneys a fourth as
large as the houses, strange carved case
ments, low and narrow doors strong enough
to Withstand siege, all covered by masses
of ivy so packed and dense that they seem
like habitations cut out of verdure- matted
rock Everywhere are giant old sycamores
and elms; and you irresistibly follow one OF
these sweet old streets out on its London
ward way, to catch with tom Browns"
eyes the glimpses which thrilled his boyish
heart when be came that autumn morning
on that memorable journey from Islington
with old "Blow-hard," the guard, for
companion, and drank in with innocent in
toxication the desperate and lawless tales of
the brave Rugby lads and their destructive
pea-shooteys.
"Werry out-o'-the-way, SIR" observed
"Blcw-hard" to Tom, in his briet but accu-
rate description of Rugby. mo pawn to
streets, nor no lighting. 'Mazin' big horse
and cattle fair in autumn-lasts a week
Just over now. Takes town week to get
clean after it. -
Old "Blow-hard" might have honestly
told Tom that Rugby never got clean after
her fairs. Nobody ever comes to Rugby
when there is not horse fair, cattle fair,
a butter and poultry fair, or one has not just
been, or is not just going to be. That is why
the little market place is always q busy
spot.
The Rugby School Building.
Pushing through this medley of folk, you
will enter narrow street, so pinchei that
it is little better than a shadowy lane, and,
not stones throw from the market place,
you come Suddenly upon Rugby School
itself. What a fine old structure it is-with
its ponderous doors, arched and mullioned
windows, great memorial windows, battle.
mented walls and pinnacled towers, just
bit gloomy, but brave and stout and fine;
and flashing into the fancy many a picture
of the grim old Elizabethan timesl Its
facade stretches a grand distance along
High street; and around to the east, where
its imposing towers look down over the
famous school Close tine scene of innumer-
able mimic battles, how the ivy has climbed
those lofty walls around, between and
above the doors and windows of the masters
house, and leaped the very battlements
above in wild and riotous luxurance
Then, strolling along the close wall, the
eye follows the gray old clumps and proiec-
tionS of the quadrangle; fingers gently upon
the lovely chapel beyond; and little bv lit
tie becomes familiar with this scene and
that of boy-struggle, defeat. anticipation or
victory; sweeps with an old time longing
over this the grandest play ground iu the
world; builds around every one of those
old oaks some tragedy of bov-
hood, achievement of youthtide daring, or
tenderer romance of early manhood; and
your mans heart grows young again, as
Times cleaning shuttle flies through the
warp and woof of your own half-held men,
ories, until the eyes dim with a mist, which,
to brush away or hide. you turn with
thrill of wOndrous re-awakening away from
beneath the shadows of Rugby.
EDGAR L. WAKEMAN,