Читать книгу A Half Century Among the Siamese and the Lāo: An Autobiography онлайн

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The invitation to attend Bingham School came in the fall of 1845, when I was in my eighteenth year. There were then only two weeks till the school should open. I had little preparation to make. A pine box painted red was soon got ready to serve as a trunk, for my wardrobe was by no means elaborate. Mr. Stedman kindly offered me a seat with Baccus and a friend of his who was returning to the school. On the way Baccus’ friend entertained us with stories of the rigid discipline, for this was in the days when the rod was not spared. I had no fears of the rod, but I trembled lest I should not sustain myself as well as such great kindness demanded. It might be a very different thing from winning a reputation in a Methodist Sunday School.

It was dusk when we reached The Oaks. The family was at supper. Mr. Bingham came out to receive us. He told Baccus’ friend to take him to his own old quarters, and, turning to me, said, “I have made arrangements for you to board with Mr. C., and to room with Mr. K., the assistant teacher, till my house is finished, when you are to live with us. But we are at supper now. You must be hungry after your long ride. Come in and eat with us.” After supper, Mr. Bingham went with me to my boarding-house, and introduced me to my hosts and to my chum, David Kerr. He welcomed me, and said he thought we should get along finely together. We not only did that, but he became a warm friend to whom I owed much. So I was in the great Bingham School, overwhelmed with a succession of unexpected kindnesses from so many quarters! What did it all mean?