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I trust； ginger…beer） at our school pastrycook's； and that is a proof that the
pastry must have been very good； for could I do as much now？ I passed
by the pastrycook's shop lately； having occasion to visit my old school。 It
looked a very dingy old baker's； misfortunes may have come over him
those penny tarts certainly did not look so nice as I remember them： but
he may have grown careless as he has grown old （I should judge him to be
now about ninety…six years of age）； and his hand may have lost its
cunning。
Not that we were not great epicures。 I remember how we constantly
grumbled at the quantity of the food in our master's house which on my
conscience I believe was excellent and plentiful and how we tried once
or twice to eat him out of house and home。 At the pastrycook's we may
have over…eaten ourselves （I have admitted half…a…crown's worth for my
own part； but I don't like to mention the real figure for fear of perverting
the present generation of boys by my monstrous confession） we may
have eaten too much； I say。 We did； but what then？ The school
apothecary was sent for： a couple of small globules at night； a trifling
preparation of senna in the morning； and we had not to go to school； so
that the draught was an actual pleasure。
For our amusements； besides the games in vogue； which were pretty
much in old times as they are now （except cricket par exemple and I
wish the present youth joy of their bowling； and suppose Armstrong and
Whitworth will bowl at them with light field…pieces next）； there were
novels ah！ I trouble you to find such novels in the present day！ O
Scottish Chiefs； didn't we weep over you！ O Mysteries of Udolpho； didn't
I and Briggs Minor draw pictures out of you； as I have said？ Efforts；
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feeble indeed； but still giving pleasure to us and our friends。 〃I say； old
boy； draw us Vivaldi tortured in the Inquisition；〃 or； 〃Draw us Don
Quixote and the windmills； you know；〃 amateurs would say； to boys who
had a love of drawing。 〃Peregrine Pickle〃 we liked； our fathers admiring
it； and telling us （the sly old boys） it was capital fun； but I think I was
rather bewildered by it； though 〃Roderick Random〃 was and remains
delightful。 I don't remember having Sterne in the school library； no doubt
because the works of that divine were not considered decent for young
people。 Ah！ not against thy genius； O father of Uncle Toby and Trim；
would I say a word in disrespect。 But I am thankful to live in times when
men no longer have the temptation to write so as to call blushes on
women's cheeks； and would shame to whisper wicked allusions to honest
boys。 Then； above all； we had Walter Scott； the kindly； the generous； the
pure the companion of what countless delightful hours； the purveyor
of how much happiness； the friend whom we recall as the constant
benefactor of our youth！ How well I remember the type and the brownish
paper of the old duodecimo 〃Tales of My Landlord！〃 I have never dared
to read the 〃Pirate；〃 and the 〃Bride of Lammermoor；〃 or 〃Kenilworth；〃
from that day to this； because the finale is unhappy； and people die； and
are murdered at the end。 But 〃Ivanhoe；〃 and 〃Quentin Durward〃！ Oh！
for a half…holiday； and a quiet corner； and one of those books again！
Those books； and perhaps those eyes with which we read them； and； it
may be； the brains behind the eyes！ It may be the tart was good； but how
fresh the appetite was！ If the gods would give me the desire of my heart；
I should be able to write a story which boys would relish for the next few
dozen of centuries。 The boy…critic loves the story： grown up； he loves
the author who wrote the story。 Hence the kindly tie is established
between writer and reader； and lasts pretty nearly for life。 I meet people
now who don't care of Walter Scott； or the 〃Arabian Nights〃； I am sorry
for them； unless they in their time have found their romancer their
charming Scheherazade。 By the way； Walter； when you are writing； tell me
who is the favourite novelist in the fourth form now？ Have you got
anything so good and kindly as dear Miss Edgeworth's Frank？ It used to
belong to a fellow's sisters generally； but though he pretended to despise
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it； and said； 〃Oh； stuff for girls！〃 he read it； and I think there were one or
two passages which would try my eyes now； were I to meet with the little
book。
As for Thomas and Jeremiah （it is only my witty way of calling Tom
and Jerry）； I went to the British Museum the other day on purpose to get it；
but somehow； if you will press the question so closely； on reperusal； Tom
and Jerry is not so brilliant as I had supposed it to be。 The pictures are
just as fine as ever； and I shook hands with broad…backed Jerry Hawthorn
and Corinthian Tom with delight； after many year's absence。 But the
style of the writing； I own； was not pleasing to me； I even thought it a
little vulgar well！ well！ other writers have been considered vulgar and
as a description of the sports and amusements of London in the ancient
times； more curious than amusing。
But the pictures！ oh！ the pictures are noble still！ First； there is
Jerry arriving from the country； in a green coat and leather gaiters； and
being measured for a fashionable suit at Corinthian House； by Corinthian
Tom's tailor。 Then away for the career of pleasure and fashion。 The
park！ delicious excitement！ The theatre！ the saloon！！ the green…room！！！
Rapturous bliss the opera itself！ and then perhaps to Temple Bar； to
knock down a Charley there！ There are Jerry and Tom； with their tights
and little cocked hats； coming from the opera very much as gentlemen
in waiting on royalty are habited now。 There they are at Almack's itself；
amidst a crowd of high…bred personages； with the Duke of Clarence
himself looking at them dancing。 Now； strange change； they are in Tom
Cribb's parlour； where they don't seem to be a whit less at home than in
fashion's gilded halls； and now they are at Newgate； seeing the irons
knocked off the malefactors' legs previous to execution。 What hardened
ferocity in the countenance of the desperado in yellow breeches！ What
compunction in the face of the gentleman in black （who； I suppose； has
been forging）； and who clasps his hands； and listens to the chaplain！
Now we haste away to merrier scenes： to Tattersall's （ah gracious powers！
what a funny fellow that actor was who performed Dicky Green in that
scene in the play！）； and now we are at a