His father's friends there, however, did not appreciate his talents,
and sad accounts were sent home of the perversity of his nature. He
was a most courageous lad, game to the backbone.

It was soon known, both at home, where he lived, and within some miles
of Barchester Cathedral, and also at Westminster, where he was at
school, that young Henry could box well and would never own himself
beat; other boys would fight while they had a leg to stand on, but he
would fight with no leg at all. Those backing him would sometimes
think him crushed by the weight of blows and faint with loss of blood,
and his friends would endeavour to withdraw him from the contest; but
no, Henry never gave in, was never weary of the battle. The ring was
the only element in which he seemed to enjoy himself; and while other
boys were happy in the number of their friends, he rejoiced most in
the multitude of his foes.

His relations could not but admire his pluck, but they sometimes were
forced to regret that he was inclined to be a bully; and those not
so partial to him as his father was, observed with pain that, though
he could fawn to the masters and the archdeacon's friends, he was
imperious and masterful to the servants and the poor.

But perhaps Samuel was the general favourite; and dear little Soapy,
as he was familiarly called, was as engaging a child as ever fond
mother petted. He was soft and gentle in his manners, and attractive
in his speech; the tone of his voice was melody, and every action was
a grace; unlike his brothers, he was courteous to all, he was affable
to the lowly, and meek even to the very scullery-maid. He was a boy
of great promise, minding his books and delighting the hearts of his
masters. His brothers, however, were not particularly fond of him;