In Savage Africa: The Adventures of Frank Baldwin from the Gold Coast to Zanzibar

In the year of our Lord 18—, I was delighted one morning by receiving a letter from my father, who was captain and owner of the brig Petrel, telling me that he had arrived safely at Bristol with a valuable cargo, and that both he and my brother Willie, who was second mate of the Petrel, were well. The letter went on to say that my father had decided on taking me to sea with him, and had written to my schoolmaster, the Rev. Stephen Poynter of Clifton, to announce his intention. The letter also said that in two days’ time Willie would come to take me away from school, and that I was to have everything ready for starting when he came. According to the custom of the school, I had received my letter in the ten minutes which were given to us for a run in the playground before commencing our work after breakfast, and, as may be imagined, I lost no time in announcing its contents to my school-fellows, considering myself a very fine and important fellow to have finished my school days. The bell stopped short a description of the Petrel in which I was indulging, and we all had to hurry in and take our places at prayers, and when they were finished, to commence our ordinary tasks. I took my place at my desk, and opened my books. I must own, however, I did not think much of what they contained, and, under their cover, I tried to read over again my father’s letter which had announced the coming change in my life. I could not help thinking that it was very wrong for the head-master to keep such an important personage, as I had now in my own estimation become, sitting on a hard bench at a black desk to con over rules of arithmetic, and I kept looking at the door of the class-room to see if old Abe the porter would not come to summon me to the head-master’s presence.

Indeed, my inattention became so marked that twice the usher of the room said, “Baldwin, if you don’t go on with your work I shall have to punish you.” He was just on the point of leaving his seat to come over to me, when at last the door opened, and old Abe appeared, calling out, “Master Baldwin, wanted in the head-master’s study.” Usually, such a summons was the reverse of pleasant, for it meant, as a rule, that the boy who was called out had to answer for some mischief, and he was loath to answer the call. I, however, having a free conscience, jumped up at once; and the usher, who did not know of my approaching departure, said, “There, Baldwin, you’re wanted by the head-master. I suppose you have been up to some mischief, and that anticipation of your punishment has caused you to be inattentive.”