I could not trouble him, and I did not believe he could make
allowances for me. But on our first arrival I wrote him a long letter
(Jem never wrote letters), and the other day he showed it to me. It was
a first impression, but a sufficiently vivid and truthful one, so I give
it here.
"CRAYSHAW'S (for that's what they call it here, and a beastly hole it is).
"_Monday_.
"MY DEAR OLD CHARLIE,--We came earlier than was settled, for Father got
impatient and there was nothing to stop us, but I don't think old
Crayshaw liked our coming so soon. You never saw such a place, it's so
dreary. A boy showed us straight into the school-room. There are three
rows of double desks running down the room and disgustingly dirty, I
don't know what Mrs. Wood would say, and old Crayshaw's desk is in front
of the fire, so that he can see all the boys sideways, and it just stops
any heat coming to them. And there he was, and I don't think Father
liked the look of him particularly, you never saw an uglier. Such a
flaming face and red eyes like Bob Furniss's ferret and great big
whiskers; but I'll make you a picture of him, at least I'll make two
pictures, for Lewis Lorraine says he's got no beard on Sundays, and
rather a good one on Saturdays.
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