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the black hand broke and fled。 we left all the rods behind and also the fish。 old brewer chased us half across the meadow。 his legs were stiff and he couldn’t move fast； but he got in some good swipes before we were out of his reach。 we left him in the middle of the field； yelling after us that he knew all our names and was going to tell our fathers。 i’d been at the back and most of the wallops had landed on me。 i had some nasty red weals on the calves of my legs when we got to the other side of the hedge。
i spent the rest of the day with the gang。 they hadn’t made up their mind whether i was really a member yet； but for the time being they tolerated me。 the errand boy； who’d had the morning off on some lying pretext or other； had to go back to the brewery。 the rest of us went for a long； meandering； scrounging kind of walk； the sort of walk that boys go for when they’re away from home all day； and especially when they’re away without permission。 it was the first real boy’s walk i’d had； quite different from the walks we used to go with katie simmons。 we had our dinner in a dry ditch on the edge of the town； full of rusty cans and wild fennel。 the others gave me bits of their dinner； and sid lovegrove had a penny； so someone fetched a penny monster which we had between us。 it was very hot； and the fennel smelt very strong； and the gas of the penny monster made us belch。 afterwards we wandered up the dusty white road to upper binfield； the first time i’d been that way； i believe； and into the beech woods with the carpets of dead leaves and the great smooth trunks that soar up into the sky so that the birds in the upper branches look like dots。 you could go wherever you liked in the woods in those days。 binfield house； was shut up； they didn’t preserve the pheasants any longer； and at the worst you’d only meet a carter with a load of wood。 there was a tree that had been sawn down； and the rings of the trunk looked like a target； and we had shots at it with stones。 then the others had shots at birds with their catapults； and sid lovegrove swore he’d hit a chaffinch and it had stuck in a fork in the tree。 joe said he was lying； and they argued and almost fought。 then we went down into a chalk hollow full of beds of dead leaves and shouted to hear the echo。 someone shouted a dirty word； and then we said over all the dirty words we knew； and the others jeered at me because i only knew three。 sid lovegrove said he knew how babies were born and it was just the same as rabbits except that the baby came out of the woman’s navel。 harry barnes started to carve the word —— on a beech tree； but got fed up with it after the first two letters。 then we went round by the lodge of binfield house。 there was a rumour that somewhere in the grounds there was a pond with enormous fish in it； but no one ever dared go inside because old hodges； the lodge…keeper who acted as a kind of caretaker； was ‘down’ on boys。 he was digging in his vegetable garden by the lodge when we passed。 we cheeked him over the fence until he chased us off； and then we went down to the walton road and cheeked the carters； keeping on the other side of the hedge so that they couldn’t reach us with their whips。 beside the walton road there was a place that had been a quarry and then a rubbish dump； and finally had got overgrown with blackberry bushes。 there were great mounds of rusty old tin cans and bicycle frames and saucepans with holes in them and broken bottles with weeds growing all over them； and we spent nearly an hour and got ourselves filthy from head to foot routing out iron fence posts； because harry barnes swore that the blacksmith in lower binfield would pay sixpence a hundredweight for old iron。 then joe found a late thrush’s nest with half…fledged chicks in it in a blackberry bush。 after a lot of argument about what to do with them we took the chicks out； had shots at them with stones； and finally stamped on them。 there were four of them； and we each had one to stamp on。 it was getting on towards tea…time now。 we knew that old brewer would be as good as his word and there was a hiding ahead of us； but we were getting too hungry to stay out much longer。 finally we trailed home； with one more row on the way； because when we were passing the allotments we saw a rat and chased it with sticks； and old bennet the station…master； who worked at his allotment every night and was very proud of it； came after us in a tearing rage because we’d trampled on his onion… bed。
i’d walked ten miles and i wasn’t tired。 all day i’d trailed after the gang and tried to do everything they did； and they’d called me ‘the kid’ and snubbed me as much as they could； but i’d more or less kept my end up。 i had a wonderful feeling inside me； a feeling you can’t know about unless you’ve had it—but if you’re a man you’ll have had it some time。 i knew that i wasn’t a kid any longer； i was a boy at last。 and it’s a wonderful thing to be a boy； to go roaming where grown…ups can’t catch you； and to chase rats and kill birds and shy stones and cheek carters and shout dirty words。 it’s a kind of strong； rank feeling； a feeling of knowing everything and fearing nothing； and it’s all bound up with breaking rules and killing things。 the white dusty roads； the hot sweaty feeling of one’s clothes； the smell of fennel and wild peppermint； the dirty words； the sour stink of the rubbish dump； the taste of fizzy lemonade and the gas that made one belch； the stamping on the young birds； the feel of the fish straining on the line—it was all part of it。 thank god i’m a man； because no woman ever has that feeling。
sure enough； old brewer had sent round and told everybody。 father looked very glum； fetched a strap out of the shop； and said he was going to ‘thrash the life out of’ joe。 but joe struggled and yelled and kicked； and in the end father didn’t get in more than a couple of whacks at him。 however； he got a caning from the headmaster of the grammar school next day。 i tried to struggle too； but i was small enough for mother to get me across her knee； and she gave me what…for with the strap。 so i’d had three hidings that day； one from joe； one from old brewe