Chapter X

by William Somerset Maugham

　　The Careys made up their minds to send Philip to King's School atTercanbury. The neighbouring clergy sent their sons there. It was unitedby long tradition to the Cathedral: its headmaster was an honorary Canon,and a past headmaster was the Archdeacon. Boys were encouraged there toaspire to Holy Orders, and the education was such as might prepare anhonest lad to spend his life in God's service. A preparatory school wasattached to it, and to this it was arranged that Philip should go. Mr.Carey took him into Tercanbury one Thursday afternoon towards the end ofSeptember. All day Philip had been excited and rather frightened. He knewlittle of school life but what he had read in the stories of The Boy'sOwn Paper. He had also read Eric, or Little by Little.When they got out of the train at Tercanbury, Philip felt sick withapprehension, and during the drive in to the town sat pale and silent. Thehigh brick wall in front of the school gave it the look of a prison. Therewas a little door in it, which opened on their ringing; and a clumsy,untidy man came out and fetched Philip's tin trunk and his play-box. Theywere shown into the drawing-room; it was filled with massive, uglyfurniture, and the chairs of the suite were placed round the walls with aforbidding rigidity. They waited for the headmaster."What's Mr. Watson like?" asked Philip, after a while."You'll see for yourself."There was another pause. Mr. Carey wondered why the headmaster did notcome. Presently Philip made an effort and spoke again."Tell him I've got a club-foot," he said.Before Mr. Carey could speak the door burst open and Mr. Watson swept intothe room. To Philip he seemed gigantic. He was a man of over six feethigh, and broad, with enormous hands and a great red beard; he talkedloudly in a jovial manner; but his aggressive cheerfulness struck terrorin Philip's heart. He shook hands with Mr. Carey, and then took Philip'ssmall hand in his."Well, young fellow, are you glad to come to school?" he shouted.Philip reddened and found no word to answer."How old are you?""Nine," said Philip."You must say sir," said his uncle."I expect you've got a good lot to learn," the headmaster bellowedcheerily.To give the boy confidence he began to tickle him with rough fingers.Philip, feeling shy and uncomfortable, squirmed under his touch."I've put him in the small dormitory for the present.... You'll like that,won't you?" he added to Philip. "Only eight of you in there. You won'tfeel so strange."Then the door opened, and Mrs. Watson came in. She was a dark woman withblack hair, neatly parted in the middle. She had curiously thick lips anda small round nose. Her eyes were large and black. There was a singularcoldness in her appearance. She seldom spoke and smiled more seldom still.Her husband introduced Mr. Carey to her, and then gave Philip a friendlypush towards her."This is a new boy, Helen, His name's Carey."Without a word she shook hands with Philip and then sat down, notspeaking, while the headmaster asked Mr. Carey how much Philip knew andwhat books he had been working with. The Vicar of Blackstable was a littleembarrassed by Mr. Watson's boisterous heartiness, and in a moment or twogot up."I think I'd better leave Philip with you now.""That's all right," said Mr. Watson. "He'll be safe with me. He'll get onlike a house on fire. Won't you, young fellow?"Without waiting for an answer from Philip the big man burst into a greatbellow of laughter. Mr. Carey kissed Philip on the forehead and went away."Come along, young fellow," shouted Mr. Watson. "I'll show you theschool-room."He swept out of the drawing-room with giant strides, and Philip hurriedlylimped behind him. He was taken into a long, bare room with two tablesthat ran along its whole length; on each side of them were wooden forms."Nobody much here yet," said Mr. Watson. "I'll just show you theplayground, and then I'll leave you to shift for yourself."Mr. Watson led the way. Philip found himself in a large play-ground withhigh brick walls on three sides of it. On the fourth side was an ironrailing through which you saw a vast lawn and beyond this some of thebuildings of King's School. One small boy was wandering disconsolately,kicking up the gravel as he walked."Hulloa, Venning," shouted Mr. Watson. "When did you turn up?"The small boy came forward and shook hands."Here's a new boy. He's older and bigger than you, so don't you bullyhim."The headmaster glared amicably at the two children, filling them with fearby the roar of his voice, and then with a guffaw left them."What's your name?""Carey.""What's your father?""He's dead.""Oh! Does your mother wash?""My mother's dead, too."Philip thought this answer would cause the boy a certain awkwardness, butVenning was not to be turned from his facetiousness for so little."Well, did she wash?" he went on."Yes," said Philip indignantly."She was a washerwoman then?""No, she wasn't.""Then she didn't wash."The little boy crowed with delight at the success of his dialectic. Thenhe caught sight of Philip's feet."What's the matter with your foot?"Philip instinctively tried to withdraw it from sight. He hid it behind theone which was whole."I've got a club-foot," he answered."How did you get it?""I've always had it.""Let's have a look.""No.""Don't then."The little boy accompanied the words with a sharp kick on Philip's shin,which Philip did not expect and thus could not guard against. The pain wasso great that it made him gasp, but greater than the pain was thesurprise. He did not know why Venning kicked him. He had not the presenceof mind to give him a black eye. Besides, the boy was smaller than he, andhe had read in The Boy's Own Paper that it was a mean thing to hitanyone smaller than yourself. While Philip was nursing his shin a thirdboy appeared, and his tormentor left him. In a little while he noticedthat the pair were talking about him, and he felt they were looking at hisfeet. He grew hot and uncomfortable.But others arrived, a dozen together, and then more, and they began totalk about their doings during the holidays, where they had been, and whatwonderful cricket they had played. A few new boys appeared, and with thesepresently Philip found himself talking. He was shy and nervous. He wasanxious to make himself pleasant, but he could not think of anything tosay. He was asked a great many questions and answered them all quitewillingly. One boy asked him whether he could play cricket."No," answered Philip. "I've got a club-foot."The boy looked down quickly and reddened. Philip saw that he felt he hadasked an unseemly question. He was too shy to apologise and looked atPhilip awkwardly.