Crayshaw himself was
living in terror of one or two revelations, and to be deserted by two of
his most respectably connected boys was an ill-timed misfortune. The
countenance my father had been so mistaken as to afford to his
establishment was very important to him, for we were the only pupils
from within fifty miles, and our parents' good word constituted an
"unexceptionable reference."
Thus it was that Snuffy pleaded humbly (but in vain) for the return of
Jem, and that he not only promised that I should not suffer, but to my
amazement kept his word.
Judgment lingered over the head of Crayshaw's for two years longer, and
I really think my being there had something to do with maintaining its
tottering reputation. I was almost the only lad in the school whose
parents were alive and at hand and in a good position, and my father's
name stifled scandal. Most of the others were orphans, being cheaply
educated by distant relatives or guardians, or else the sons of poor
widows who were easily bamboozled by Snuffy's fluent letters, and the
religious leaflets which it was his custom to enclose. (In several of
these cases, he was "managing" the poor women's "affairs" for them.
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