In such surroundings was an
extraordinary man born. He was the only anxiety of a widowed mother, who
gained her livelihood and his by making up "ladies' own materials" in
ladies' own houses. Mrs Machin, however, had a speciality apart from her
vocation: she could wash flannel with less shrinking than any other
woman in the district, and she could wash fine lace without ruining it;
thus often she came to sew and remained to wash. A somewhat gloomy
woman; thin, with a tongue! But I liked her. She saved a certain amount
of time every day by addressing her son as Denry, instead of Edward
Henry.
Not intellectual, not industrious, Denry would have maintained the
average dignity of labour on a potbank had he not at the age of twelve
won a scholarship from the Board School to the Endowed School. He owed
his triumph to audacity rather than learning, and to chance rather than
design. On the second day of the examination he happened to arrive in
the examination-room ten minutes too soon for the afternoon sitting. He
wandered about the place exercising his curiosity, and reached the
master's desk. On the desk was a tabulated form with names of candidates
and the number of marks achieved by each in each subject of the previous
day.
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