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artle Massey’s was one of a few scattered houses on the
Bedge of a common； which was divided by the road to
Treddleston。 Adam reached it in a quarter of an hour
after leaving the Hall Farm； and when he had his hand on the
door…latch； he could see； through the curtainless window； that
there were eight or nine heads bending over the desks； lighted by
thin dips。
When he entered； a reading lesson was going forward and
Bartle Massey merely nodded； leaving him to take his place where
he pleased。 He had not come for the sake of a lesson to…night； and
his mind was too full of personal matters； too full of the last two
hours he had passed in Hetty’s presence； for him to amuse himself
with a book till school was over； so he sat down in a corner and
looked on with an absent mind。 It was a sort of scene which Adam
had beheld almost weekly for years； he knew by heart every
arabesque flourish in the framed specimen of Bartle Massey’s
handwriting which hung over the schoolmaster’s head； by way of
keeping a lofty ideal before the minds of his pupils； he knew the
backs of all the books on the shelf running along the whitewashed
wall above the pegs for the slates； he knew exactly how many
grains were gone out of the ear of Indian corn that hung from one
of the rafters； he had long ago exhausted the resources of his
imagination in trying to think how the bunch of leathery seaweed
had looked and grown in its native element； and from the place
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where he sat； he could make nothing of the old map of England
that hung against the opposite wall； for age had turned it of a fine
yellow brown； something like that of a well…seasoned meerschaum。
The drama that was going on was almost as familiar as the scene；
nevertheless habit had not made him indifferent to it； and even in
his present self…absorbed mood； Adam felt a momentary stirring of
the old fellow…feeling； as he looked at the rough men painfully
holding pen or pencil with their cramped hands； or humbly
labouring through their reading lesson。
The reading class now seated on the form in front of the
schoolmaster’s desk consisted of the three most backward pupils。
Adam would have known it only by seeing Bartle Massey’s face as
he looked over his spectacles； which he had shifted to the ridge of
his nose； not requiring them for present purposes。 The face wore
its mildest expression： the grizzled bushy eyebrows had taken
their more acute angle of compassionate kindness； and the mouth；
habitually compressed with a pout of the lower lip； was relaxed so
as to be ready to speak a helpful word or syllable in a moment。
This gentle expression was the more interesting because the
schoolmaster’s nose； an irregular aquiline twisted a little on one
side； had rather a formidable character； and his brow； moreover；
had that peculiar tension which always impresses one as a sign of
a keen impatient temperament： the blue veins stood out like cords
under the transparent yellow skin； and this intimidating brow was
softened by no tendency to baldness； for the grey bristly hair； cut
down to about an inch in length； stood round it in as close ranks as
ever。
“Nay； Bill； nay；” Bartle was saying in a kind tone； as he nodded
to Adam； “begin that again； and then perhaps； it’ll come to you
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what d； r； y spells。 It’s the same lesson you read last week； you
know。”
“Bill” was a sturdy fellow； aged four…and…twenty； an excellent
stone…sawyer； who could get as good wages as any man in the
trade of his years； but he found a reading lesson in words of one
syllable a harder matter to deal with than the hardest stone he had
ever had to saw。 The letters； he complained； were so “uncommon
alike； there was no tellin’ ’em one from another；” the sawyer’s
business not being concerned with minute differences such as
exist between a letter with its tail turned up and a letter with its
tail turned down。 But Bill had a firm determination that he would
learn to read； founded chiefly on two reasons： first； that Tom
Hazelow； his cousin； could read anything “right off；” whether it
was print or writing； and Tom had sent him a letter from twenty
miles off； saying how he was prospering in the world and had got
an overlooker’s place； secondly； that Sam Phillips； who sawed with
him； had learned to read when he was turned twenty； and what
could be done by a little fellow like Sam Phillips； Bill considered；
could be done by himself； seeing that he could pound Sam into
wet clay if circumstances required it。 So here he was； pointing his
big finger towards three words at once； and turning his head on
one side that he might keep better hold with his eye of the one
word which was to be discriminated out of the group。 The amount
of knowledge Bartle Massey must possess was something so dim
and vast that Bill’s imagination recoiled before it： he would hardly
have ventured to deny that the schoolmaster might have
something to do in bringing about the regular return of daylight
and the changes in the weather。
The man seated next to Bill was of a very different type： he was
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a Methodist brickmaker who； after spending thirty years of his life
in perfect satisfaction with his ignorance； had lately “got religion；”
and along with it the desire to read the Bible。 But with him； too；
learning was a heavy business； and on his way out to…night he had
offered as usual a special prayer for help； seeing that he had
undertaken this hard task with a single eye to the nourishment of
his soul—that he might have a greater abundance of texts and
hymns wherewith to banish evil memories and the temptations of
old habit—or； in brief language； the devil。 For the brickmaker had
been a notorious poacher； and was suspected； though there was no
good evidence against him； of being the man who had shot a
neighbouring gamekeeper in the leg。 However that might be； it is
certain that shortly after the accident referred to； which was
coincident with the arrival of an awakening Methodist preacher at
Treddleston； a great change had been observed in the brickmaker；
and though he was still known in the neighbourhood by his old
sobriquet of “Brimstone；” there was nothing he held in so much
horror as any further transactions with that evil…smelling element。
He was a broad…chested fellow。 with a fervid temperament； which
helped him better in imbibing religious ideas than in the dry
process of acquiring the mere human knowledge of the alphabet。
Indeed； he had been already a little shaken in his resolution by a
brother Methodist； who assured him that the letter was a mere
obstruction to the Spirit； and expressed a fear that Brimstone was
too eager for the knowledge that puffeth up。
The third beginner was a much more promising pupil。 He was a
tall but thin and wiry man； nearly as old as Brimstone； with a very
pale face and hands stained a deep blue。 He was a dyer； who in the
course of dipping homespun wool and old women’s petticoats had
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got fired with the ambition to learn a great deal more about the
strange secrets of colour。 He h