Read Pyg Online

Authors: Russell Potter

Pyg (14 page)

Then came the Morning. We both trembled a little at being invited to join such august Company, but we could hardly refuse such a generous invitation. It proved to be but a short
walk through the centre of the town to reach the College, and when we presented Dr Adams’s card to the Porter, we were at once treated with unusual courtesy. Our horses and wagon were led
into the Stables, and we were escorted across the inner yard to the Master’s lodgings. We were met at the gate by Dr Adams himself, and he invited us to join him for tea and toast in his
private garden. It was a somewhat awkward moment, despite—perhaps
because of
—his kindness; there had even been set down a copper basin for my own use at the foot of the table.
Happily, my Benefactor had brought with him the smaller set of Cards, which we used for our own communications, and by means of these I was able (at least) to make answer for myself.

Inevitably, our talk soon came round to Dr Johnson. I expressed my admiration for the man, and brought forth my little copy of
Rasselas
as evidence. Dr Adams was delighted to behold it,
and praised it as the most
moral
book the good Doctor had yet produced. He himself had encouraged his former pupil to compile a book of Prayers and Meditations, and had continually urged
upon him the importance of
Religion
in a man’s life. To these exhortations Dr Johnson had grown increasingly amenable, the more so as he had lately been quite ill, and could hear
time’s winged chariot drawing ever nearer. In fact, he was contemplating a final visit to Oxford, not knowing how much longer might be his allotment of life, and would be staying with Dr
Adams—how astonished he would be to meet a
Pig
who had read his works! If we were to consider remaining, it would be most gratifying, and he would be delighted to
Introduce
us.

To these enticements my Benefactor replied with both gratitude and regret: our business in South Weston, and the other hamlets on the way to London, could not wait; it was in the nature of the
showman’s trade to make one’s bookings in season, and to disappoint them would be ruinous. Dr Adams then enquired as to how much we generally made at one of these Venues, and Sam was
forced to admit that, while we often took in as much as six or seven Pounds, our costs—when food and lodging were included—were often equal to or greater than that Sum.

‘Well, Master Nicholson, I was about to propose that I compensate you for your time at least as well as your Shows would earn you—but now I see that to do so,
I should have to
Take
rather than Give. But let me then give you more than your Custom, and closer to your Deserving. I can offer you a room here that lies at my disposal, with food and
straw for Toby in our stables and meals for you and your boy in our Common Room. It would be for a week at most, for I have here a letter from Dr Johnson in which he purposes to arrive no later
than the sixth instant.’

Seeing that Sam still hesitated, he leaned over, cupping his hand to his mouth as though to communicate some secret: ‘And that is not all. I will give you, besides, two shillings a day for
your trouble and, more, I will commence with
Toby
a programme of continuing his Education, as far as time and his capacity will permit. He shall begin with a course of Grammar, Rhetoric and
Logic, and then proceed, if he so choose, on the long-appointed path to Arithmetic, Geometry, Music and Astronomy. We have here at the College many of the leading lights of these times, and he
shall have the best Tutors in every subject, under my direct supervision. Come, come, what say you? Is it not a fair offer?’

There was little my Benefactor could say in response to so magnanimous a proposal, but he managed to offer one further query: ‘What of me, then?’

‘You shall be included in our tutorials. For you and Toby have known and worked alongside one another for so long, I could scarcely hope to separate you, even if that were my wish. No,
both shall have the benefit of this course of study. What say you?’

We could both say only, ‘YES’—and so it was agreed.

 

12

T
he week that followed, although spent in the quiet confines of Pembroke College and its grounds, was surely the most Eventful of my brief
Existence
. I was awakened each morning by the stable-keeper, who brought my oaten breakfast. At these meals I was joined every morning by Sam, and quite often by Dr Adams, who liked to begin
his day early.

Michaelmas term being yet some weeks distant, the college’s rooms were largely empty, although a number of the Fellows were in residence, and each morning Dr Adams invited one or two to
join us. For our meetings, a stout wooden table was set up adjacent to the stables, and chairs brought out; I was given a large washing-bucket, which, overturned, made an ideal Platform, raising me
to a height where I could see and be seen by all. Sam sat beside me and, using the shorthand we had perfected for the Stage, I could quite readily give answer to any of the many questions that were
put to us—or, I should say, to
me.
I am pleased to recall that all those who came to the table as
Sceptics
departed from it convinced that, whatever other wonders the world
might hold, a Sapient
Pig
must be counted among them.

Dr Adams, having proposed that he would model my Education on the Seven Liberal Arts, was as good as his Word, commencing with Grammar, in which he instructed me himself. I was amazed to find
that Latin, far from being a language of especial Difficulty, was in fact easier than
English,
and much more consistent in its Spelling. In my early days of learning, I had been
Irked
to find that English employed the same letters, such as
gh
to convey such vastly different sounds as those of ‘laugh’, ‘caught’ and ‘Ghent’—and so
it was with much relief that I found the Latin
c
was always hard, that
ph
always made the sound
f,
and that its nouns were in every way Harmonious in terms of number,
possession and all their other
Forms
(though these were, it was true, more numerous than in
English
). By the end of that first week, I was composing simple sentences, and had begun to
read through the little volume of
Sententiæ Antiquæ
with which Dr Adams had provided me.

The anticipation that attended the arrival of Dr Johnson was enormous, and as the day drew nearer, my studies had to be suspended for a time, as the Master and all the Fellows were altogether
Consumed
with preparations. A large Banquet was to be held in the
Hall
, speeches and verses composed for the occasion, and a suite of rooms made ready for the great man and his
entourage. I was greatly disappointed to learn that Mr Boswell was not to be among them, he and Johnson having been
Sundered
some time previous by a small misunderstanding grown
Large
, as so often happens among Humans. Never the less, the learned Doctor was to be accompanied by several other of his Friends, along with his personal Physician, and two men whose
special job it was to carry the sedan chair he at times required, due to a great Swelling in his legs. According to his most recent letters to Dr Adams, he was feeling generally much Improved,
without any fresh attacks of the
Dyspnoea
or pain of the Lungs with which he had previously been much afflicted.

The appointed day having arrived, I was brought from my usual place atop the washing-bucket by the stables to a new seat of honour in a corner of the Master’s garden, where a low platform
had been specially erected. My Benefactor was in attendance, and with him he brought the larger pasteboard letters we used for our Public performances. Dr Adams had, strategically, I believe,
seated us at the very End of the receiving line, a place which, though least in Priority, was—like an exclamation point at the end of a sentence—greatest in
Emphasis
. My only
fear was that the learned Doctor, whose health, though much improved, was still quite Fragile, might be forced by sheer Exhaustion to cut short his travails along this procession of obsequious
Welcomers, and go directly to the Banquet within.

I need not have worried—for, indeed, the Great Man was disposed, his time of life having grown short just as his Reputation reached its Apex, to move along the line quite according to his
Whims, passing over many a bow and scrape with an expression of Impatience, and so coming, very shortly after having snubbed the most junior of the Fellows, to our place, with Dr Adams at his side.
He leaned forward, bracing himself with a stout walking-stick, and peered so directly at me that, were I a
Human
, I am sure I would have blushed. He then turned to his old master with a
jovial look.

‘Dr Adams, I suppose this must be Toby, the learned
Pig
of whom we have heard so much?’

‘Indeed it is.’

He turned again to face me. ‘I have a friend, Mr Toby—well, not exactly a friend in the usual sense, but more a jousting-partner of the pen, Miss Anna Seward. She tells me that, some
year or so past, she saw you perform at Astley’s in
Dublin
, and went so far as to pin a Medal—upon your Waistcoat! Now I have never known a pig to wear a waistcoat, nor can I
conceive what use it could be to him—but now I understand there is a greater wonder still, that you are being instructed in the rudiments of
Grammar
by Dr Adams here.’

I bowed slightly, and quickly answered, Y-E-S.

‘Then can you tell me, sir, what form the noun
litera
takes in the Dative Plural?’

Without hesitation, I spelt out: L-I-T-E-R-I-S.

‘And the vocative plural?’

L-I-T-E-R-A-E.

Clearly impressed, he turned back to Dr Adams, and asked him how old I was, and how long I had pursued my studies.

‘Toby is nearly three years old,’ he replied. ‘With me, his studies have been scarcely a week, but it was from Mr Nicholson here that he first learnt his letters.’

Sam blushed.

‘Then,’ replied the Doctor, his great face a-bloom with ruddy indignation, ‘is the Pig a race unjustly calumniated!
Pig
has, it seems, not been wanting to
man
,
but
man
to
pig
. Why, we hardly allow
time
for his education, killing him at a year old!’

One of the Fellows, who was loitering at Johnson’s elbow, took this moment to give it as his view that considerable
Torture
must have been employed in order to make an animal so
Stubborn into such a supple
Instrument
of learning. At this, the Doctor turned at once to my Benefactor.

‘What means did you employ to teach your Pig? What threats? What tools? What commands?’

‘None sir,’ Sam replied. ‘He first had his training from my late master, Mr Bisset, who never raised a hand to him, and as soon as I shewed him the Connection between Letters
and
Sense
, he did the rest himself.’

‘Remarkable! Why, this pig would have been killed in his first Year had he not been
educated
, and some would say protracted existence would be fair recompense for a considerable
degree of
Torture.
My old master at Lichfield, the Reverend Hunter, was a Brute of a man, and if there was a path to Learning that could be trod without
Lashes
, he knew nothing of it.
And yet here we have a kindness out of
Kind
—a boy whose gentle guidance brings so recalcitrant a creature to his Letters! Commendable, lad!’

Well satisfied with his encounter, Dr Johnson accepted the arm of Dr Adams and, with this help on his Left, and his stick upon his
Right
, managed the way up the stairs, down the corridor
and into the Hall. We could see his Progress through the windows, and as soon as he was seated, Dr Adams sent for us, and we found that we, too, were to partake of the Banquet. Indeed, I was told
later that it was at Dr Johnson’s personal insistence that we were brought, and given seats quite near his, seats that many of the
Fellows
had coveted, as they jostled against one
another to gain Proximity to their learned Guest. I believe this was the beginning of a general Resentment of my Position by many at the College, which later grew to such proportions that Dr Adams
had constantly to contend with it. Never the less, for that one day at least, I felt that I had accomplished something so very
Notable
that it distinguished me for ever among all the Animals
who have had the benefit of Lessons: I was invited to dinner by Dr Johnson.

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