Excerpt from Deering of Deal or the Spirit of the School Preparing for Kingsbridge, before the war, had meant going first for three or four years to Deal School, another Caesarean seat of learning, almost as well known as the college itself. The warm-hearted old general had as fond memories of the school-topped, wind-swept hill above the rocks of Deal, as he had of the meadows and hills about Kingsbridge. There were a great many family counsels held in the old house on the bayou; some prejudices pocketed; some feminine qualms appeased and tears dried; and a great deal of correspondence was exchanged between the Head Master of Deal and the old General, who ruled his family to the third and fourth generation. And so at length on a bright crisp September morn ing, when he was about fifteen years old, Anthony Deering found himself getting out of the little way train that runs from Coventry to Monday Port across the Caesarean flats, and enquiring diligently for a hack to drive him out to Deal School. He had made the journey up from New Orleans alone, without a quaver until he came to his journey's end. He was a day late for the Opening of school, so that he was the only passenger to alight at Monday Port. A vociferous cabman offered him the services of a dilapidated fly and a bony horse. He looked about for better, but not finding them, he pulled his belt a trifle tighter, swallowed the lump in his throat, and quieted the man by thrusting his bag into his hand. Then he jumped into the crazy vehicle, and shouted in a high voice, Deal School! About the Publisher Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.