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It
does
not
do
to
dwell
on
these
things
;
it
makes
one
so
sad
.
There
was
a
boy
at
our
school
,
we
used
to
call
him
Sandford
and
Merton
.
His
real
name
was
Stivvings
.
He
was
the
most
extraordinary
lad
I
ever
came
across
.
I
believe
he
really
liked
study
.
He
used
to
get
into
awful
rows
for
sitting
up
in
bed
and
reading
Greek
;
and
as
for
French
irregular
verbs
there
was
simply
no
keeping
him
away
from
them
.
He
was
full
of
weird
and
unnatural
notions
about
being
a
credit
to
his
parents
and
an
honour
to
the
school
;
and
he
yearned
to
win
prizes
,
and
grow
up
and
be
a
clever
man
,
and
had
all
those
sorts
of
weak-minded
ideas
.
I
never
knew
such
a
strange
creature
,
yet
harmless
,
mind
you
,
as
the
babe
unborn
.
Well
,
that
boy
used
to
get
ill
about
twice
a
week
,
so
that
he
could
n't
go
to
school
.
There
never
was
such
a
boy
to
get
ill
as
that
Sandford
and
Merton
.
If
there
was
any
known
disease
going
within
ten
miles
of
him
,
he
had
it
,
and
had
it
badly
.
He
would
take
bronchitis
in
the
dog-days
,
and
have
hay-fever
at
Christmas
.
After
a
six
weeks
'
period
of
drought
,
he
would
be
stricken
down
with
rheumatic
fever
;
and
he
would
go
out
in
a
November
fog
and
come
home
with
a
sunstroke
.
They
put
him
under
laughing-gas
one
year
,
poor
lad
,
and
drew
all
his
teeth
,
and
gave
him
a
false
set
,
because
he
suffered
so
terribly
with
toothache
;
and
then
it
turned
to
neuralgia
and
ear-ache
.
He
was
never
without
a
cold
,
except
once
for
nine
weeks
while
he
had
scarlet
fever
;
and
he
always
had
chilblains
.
During
the
great
cholera
scare
of
1871
,
our
neighbourhood
was
singularly
free
from
it
.
There
was
only
one
reputed
case
in
the
whole
parish
:
that
case
was
young
Stivvings
.
He
had
to
stop
in
bed
when
he
was
ill
,
and
eat
chicken
and
custards
and
hot-house
grapes
;
and
he
would
lie
there
and
sob
,
because
they
would
n't
let
him
do
Latin
exercises
,
and
took
his
German
grammar
away
from
him
.
And
we
other
boys
,
who
would
have
sacrificed
ten
terms
of
our
school-life
for
the
sake
of
being
ill
for
a
day
,
and
had
no
desire
whatever
to
give
our
parents
any
excuse
for
being
stuck-up
about
us
,
could
n't
catch
so
much
as
a
stiff
neck
.
We
fooled
about
in
draughts
,
and
it
did
us
good
,
and
freshened
us
up
;
and
we
took
things
to
make
us
sick
,
and
they
made
us
fat
,
and
gave
us
an
appetite
.
Nothing
we
could
think
of
seemed
to
make
us
ill
until
the
holidays
began
.
Then
,
on
the
breaking-up
day
,
we
caught
colds
,
and
whooping
cough
,
and
all
kinds
of
disorders
,
which
lasted
till
the
term
recommenced
;
when
,
in
spite
of
everything
we
could
manoeuvre
to
the
contrary
,
we
would
get
suddenly
well
again
,
and
be
better
than
ever
.
Such
is
life
;
and
we
are
but
as
grass
that
is
cut
down
,
and
put
into
the
oven
and
baked
.
To
go
back
to
the
carved-oak
question
,
they
must
have
had
very
fair
notions
of
the
artistic
and
the
beautiful
,
our
great-great-grandfathers
.
Why
,
all
our
art
treasures
of
today
are
only
the
dug-up
commonplaces
of
three
or
four
hundred
years
ago
.
I
wonder
if
there
is
real
intrinsic
beauty
in
the
old
soup-plates
,
beer-mugs
,
and
candle-snuffers
that
we
prize
so
now
,
or
if
it
is
only
the
halo
of
age
glowing
around
them
that
gives
them
their
charms
in
our
eyes
.
The
"
old
blue
"
that
we
hang
about
our
walls
as
ornaments
were
the
common
every-day
household
utensils
of
a
few
centuries
ago
;
and
the
pink
shepherds
and
the
yellow
shepherdesses
that
we
hand
round
now
for
all
our
friends
to
gush
over
,
and
pretend
they
understand
,
were
the
unvalued
mantel-ornaments
that
the
mother
of
the
eighteenth
century
would
have
given
the
baby
to
suck
when
he
cried
.
Will
it
be
the
same
in
the
future
?
Will
the
prized
treasures
of
today
always
be
the
cheap
trifles
of
the
day
before
?
Will
rows
of
our
willow-pattern
dinner-plates
be
ranged
above
the
chimneypieces
of
the
great
in
the
years
2000
and
odd
?
Will
the
white
cups
with
the
gold
rim
and
the
beautiful
gold
flower
inside
(
species
unknown
)
,
that
our
Sarah
Janes
now
break
in
sheer
light-heartedness
of
spirit
,
be
carefully
mended
,
and
stood
upon
a
bracket
,
and
dusted
only
by
the
lady
of
the
house
?
