Richard Fowler by Irene Stuart

Richard Fowler by Irene Stewart

Father, hear me out, I did nothing wrong.

I know I do not have the quickness of some of the other boys but I worked hard at my lessons. I have a head for figures, my penmanship is neat and I am assured it to be fairly legible.

The reason I have been sent home from school and told never to return, is due to my desire to be a clerk. A worthy occupation in which I intend to use my skills to advantage and profit.

The masters deemed my refusal to be apprenticed to a mechanical trade a mark of self-importance which I wholeheartedly deny, Father. They referred to me having an ‘air of confidence’ way above my rank which they attributed to the praise I received from the Chapel congregation, upon hearing my powerful reading voice. I do not know why they should complain of this, as my readings resulted in a large amount of pence in the collection plate.

Mother told me on her death bed that I should ‘do my best’ and that is what I have done. I have done nothing wrong and it’s not fair that I should be returned home without being indentured as is my want.