 | The works of Washington Irving |  |
THE SCHOOLMASTER.
There will no mosse stick to the stone of Sisiphus,
no grasse hang on the heeles of Mercury, no
butter cleave on the bread of a traveller. For as
the eagle at every flight loseth a feather, which
maketh her bauld in her age, so the traveller in
every country loseth some fleece, which maketh
him a beggar in his youth, by buying that for a
pound which he cannot sell again for a penny—
repentance.
Lilly's Euphues.
Among the worthies of the village,
that enjoy the peculiar confidence of
Master Simon, is one who has struck
my fancy so much, that I have thought
him worthy of a separate notice. It is
Slingsby, the schoolmaster, a thin elderly
man, rather threadbare and slovenly,
somewhat indolent in manner, and with
an easy good-humoured look, not often
met with in his craft. I have been interested
in his favour by a few anecdotes
which I have picked up concerning him.
He is a native of the village, and was
a contemporary and playmate of Ready-Money
Jack in the days of their boyhood.
Indeed, they carried on a kind of
league of mutual good offices. Slingsby
was rather puny, and withal somewhat
of a coward, but very apt at his learning:
Jack, on the contrary, was a bully-boy