In the same way the Battle of Waterloo became "Batterloo--One,
eight, one, five, please, miss," so both those dates remained in
their heads.
We experienced some little trouble in mastering the French
numerals, until I tried a new scheme, and called out, "From the
right, number, in French!" Then my merry convalescents began
shouting gleefully, "Oon," "Doo," "Troy," "Catta," "Sink," etc.;
but the French numerals stuck in their heads. Never did any one, I
imagine, have such a set of jolly, cheery boys in blue as pupils,
and the strong remnant of the child left in many of them made them
the more attractive.
When I first went to school, the selection and purchase of my
outfit was, for some inscrutable reason, left to my sisters'
governess, an elderly lady to whom I was quite devoted. This
excellent person, though, knew very little about boys, and nothing
whatever as to their requirements. Her mind harked back to the
"thirties" and "forties," and she endeavoured to reconstitute the
dress of little boys at that period. She ordered for me a velvet
tunic for Sunday wear, of the sort seen in old prints, and a
velvet cap with a peak and tassel, such as young England wore in
William IV.
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