Brinsley?
Well, no. As a matter, of fact they don't care very much.
Do you tell me so! Well it was a different tale in the old days. The old schoolmasters believed in the big stick. Oh, plenty of that boyo.
He gave a laugh here in which we concurred without emotion.
The stick was mightier than the pen, he added, laughing again in a louder way and relapsing into a quiet chuckle. He paused for a brief interval as if examining something hitherto overlooked in the interior of his memory.
And how is our friend? he inquired in the direction of my bed.
Nature of reply: Civil, perfunctory, uninformative.
My uncle leaned over towards Brinsley and said to him in a low, confidential manner:
Do you know what I am going to tell you, there is a very catching cold going around. Every second man you meet has got a cold. God preserve us, there will be plenty of 'flu before the winter's out, make no mistake about that. You would need to keep yourself well wrapped up.
As a matter of fact, said Brinsley in a crafty way, I have only just recovered from a cold myself.
You would need to keep yourself well wrapped up, rejoined my uncle, you would, faith.
Here there was a pause, each of us searching for a word with which it might be broken.
Tell me this, Mr. Brinsley, said my uncle, are you going to be a doctor?
I am not, said Brinsley.
Or a schoolmaster?
Here I interposed a shaft from my bed.
He hopes to get a job from the Christian Brothers, I said, when he gets his B.A.
That would be a great thing, said my uncle. The Brothers, of course, are very particular about the boys they take. You must have a good record, a clean sheet.
Well I have that, said Brinsley.
Of course you have, said my uncle. But doctoring and teaching are two jobs that call for great application and love of God. For what is the love of God but the love of your neighbour?
He sought agreement from each of us in turn, reverting a second to Brinsley with his ocular inquiry.
It is a grand and a noble life, he said, teaching the young and the sick and nursing them back to their God-given health. It is, faith. There is a special crown for those that give themselves up to that work.
It is a hard life, but, said Brinsley.
A hard life? said my uncle. Certainly so, but tell me this: Is it worth your while?
Brinsley gave a nod.
Worth your while and well worth it, said my uncle. A special crown is a thing that is not offered every day of the week. Oh, it's a grand thing, a grand life. Doctoring and teaching, the two of them are marked out for special graces and blessings.
He mused for a while, staring at the smoke of his cigarette. He then looked up and laughed, clapping his hand on the top of the washstand.
But long faces, he said, long faces won't get any of us very far. Eh, Mr. Brinsley? I am a great believer in the smile and the happy word.
A sovereign remedy for all our ills, said Brinsley.
A sovereign remedy for all our ills, said my uncle. Very nicely put. Well...
He held out a hand in valediction.
Mind yourself now, he said, and mind and keep the coat buttoned up. The 'flu is the boy I'd give the slip to.
He was civilly replied to. He left the room with a pleased smile but was not gone for three seconds till he was back again with a grave look, coming upon us suddenly in the moment of our relaxation and relief.
Oh, that matter of the Brothers, he said in a low tone to Brinsley, would you care for me to put in a word for you?
Thanks very much, said Brinsley, but -
No trouble at all, said my uncle. Brother Hanley, late of Richmond Street, he is a very special friend of mine. No question of pulling strings, you know. Just a private word in his ear. He is a special friend.
Well, that is very good of you, said Brinsley.
Oh, not in the least, said my uncle. There is a way of doing things, you understand. It is a great thing to have a friend in court. And Brother Hanley, I may tell you privately, is one of the best - Oh, one of the very best in the world.