Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: CHAPTER III. A CRAM-SCHOOL AT WOOLWICH FORTY YEARS AGO. In the days to winch this tale refers, railways did not exist; it was therefore by the Salisbury coach that I travelled with my father to London. I will pass over my wonder and surprise at the size and crowds of London, and of the scenes that presented themselves to me as I for the first time drove through the metropolis. Steam-vessels were then novelties, and it was by a steam-vessel that we journeyed from London Bridge to Woolwich, and were deposited in the lower part of that dirty town, from whence a cab conveyed us to the school-house of Mr. Hostler at the early hour of eleven a.m. As, from what I was able to gather at the time, Mr. Hostler's was a fair specimen of the Woolwich cram-schools forty years ago, this establishment and the life I led there will be somewhat fully described. After long years of roughing it invarious parts of the world, the early impressions of that school are fresh in my memory. Coming as I did to that school, fresh from a quiet country home, where I had led the quietest of lives?where a slap from my aunt was the greatest evil that ever happened to me?where politeness and consideration for others was instilled into me by my father as the essential attribute of a gentleman?I was ill-prepared for Mr. Hostler's school, where a somewhat different tone prevailed On arriving at Mr. Hostler's, we were shown into a comfortably-furnished but small room, and were informed that Mr. Hostler would come very soon. After about five minutes the door opened, and a short, broad, dark man entered. His eyes were dark and piercing, and his aquiline nose gave him, to my mind, the appearance of a hawk. Without a moment's hesitation he said, "How do you do, Mr. Shepard ? Lucky to get a nomination for your boy, ...