and the H’s are just the raisins; you can put ’em in or leave ’em out as you pleases, and stick ’em in by the scores or just a sprinklin’, and it’s no odds--it’s good anyways.’ Them’s the principles of spellin’ I expect my little ones to larn at your school.”
“And I hopes, Mr. Teacher,” said another sententiously, “as you’ll never forget that it is not enough to teach the children readin’, writing, and ’rithmetic. There is something more”--
“There is a great deal more--geography, history, the Elements”--
“There is something above all that, and you should make it the first thing, and readin’ and the rest after.”
“What’s that?”
“Temperance--teetotal principles.”
Bramber walked on. His discouragement was becoming greater at every moment.
As he passed the Lamb and Flag, he was greeted by a hideous bray of instruments both stringed and brazen. This outburst was followed by a marvellous coruscation of instrumental music, races, leaps, a helter-skelter of fiddles, flutes, cornets, bass-viol, now together, more often running ahead or falling behind each other, then one a-pickaback on the rest.
At the door of the public-house stood Mr. Jonas Southcott with his face radiant.
“Well, Mr. Schoolmaister!” shouted he; “what do you think of this? You’ve never heard such moosic before, I warrant. That is what I call moosic of the spears! It’s Jackson’s ‘Tee-dum.’”
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