My first quarter at Lowood seemed an age; and not the golden age

either; it comprised an irksome struggle with difficulties in

habituating myself to new rules and unwonted tasks. The fear of

failure in these points harassed me worse than the physical

hardships of my lot; though these were no trifles.

During January, February, and part of March, the deep snows, and,

after their melting, the almost impassable roads, prevented our

stirring beyond the garden walls, except to go to church; but within

these limits we had to pass an hour every day in the open air. Our

clothing was insufficient to protect us from the severe cold: we

had no boots, the snow got into our shoes and melted there: our

ungloved hands became numbed and covered with chilblains, as were

our feet: I remember well the distracting irritation I endured from

this cause every evening, when my feet inflamed; and the torture of

thrusting the swelled, raw, and stiff toes into my shoes in the

morning. Then the scanty supply of food was distressing: with the

keen appetites of growing children, we had scarcely sufficient to

keep alive a delicate invalid. From this deficiency of nourishment

resulted an abuse, which pressed hardly on the younger pupils:

whenever the famished great girls had an opportunity, they would

coax or menace the little ones out of their portion. Many a time I

have shared between two claimants the precious morsel of brown bread

distributed at tea-time; and after relinquishing to a third half the

contents of my mug of coffee, I have swallowed the remainder with an

accompaniment of secret tears, forced from me by the exigency of

hunger.

Sundays were dreary days in that wintry season. We had to walk two

miles to Brocklebridge Church, where our patron officiated. We set

out cold, we arrived at church colder: during the morning service

we became almost paralysed. It was too far to return to dinner, and

an allowance of cold meat and bread, in the same penurious

proportion observed in our ordinary meals, was served round between

the services.

At the close of the afternoon service we returned by an exposed and

hilly road, where the bitter winter wind, blowing over a range of

snowy summits to the north, almost flayed the skin from our faces.

I can remember Miss Temple walking lightly and rapidly along our

drooping line, her plaid cloak, which the frosty wind fluttered,

gathered close about her, and encouraging us, by precept and

example, to keep up our spirits, and march forward, as she said,

"like stalwart soldiers." The other teachers, poor things, were

generally themselves too much dejected to attempt the task of

cheering others.




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