In Edinburgh the students are indifferent to their 'varsity magazine, but in St. Andrews[Pg 193] the publication of College Echoes is the event of the week. The reason is that the St. Andrew's students form a small happy family; if a reference is made to Bejant Smith everyone understands it. If you mentioned Bejant Smith in the Edinburgh Student no one would know whom you were referring to.
The success of College Echoes gives me the idea of a school magazine that would succeed. A magazine for my hundred and fifty bairns would be useless; what I want is a magazine for parents and children. It would be issued weekly, and would mingle5 school gossip with advice. If Willie Wilson knew that Friday's edition might contain a paragraph to the effect that he had been discovered murdering two young robins6, I fancy that he would think twice before he cut their heads off.
I imagine entries like the following:—
"Peter Thomson said on Thursday that it was Lloyd George who said 'Father, I cannot tell a lie,' and he was caned7 by the master who, by the way, has just been appointed President of the Conservative Association."
"Mary Brown was late every morning this week."
[Pg 194]
"John Mackenzie is at present gathering8 potatoes at Mr. Skinnem's farm, and is being paid a shilling a day of ten hours. Mr. Skinnem has been made an elder of the Parish Kirk."
Someone has said that the most arresting piece of literature is your own name in print. That is true, although I suppose that the thrill wears off when you become as public as Winston Churchill or Charlie Chaplin. Why shouldn't the bairns experience this thrill? When I write the report of a local concert for the local papers I always give prominence9 to the children who performed. Incidentally, when I have sung at a concert I omit all reference to my part; I hate to remind the audience that I sang. I am a true altruist10 in both cases.
Publicity11 is the most pleasing thing in life, and that's why patent medicines retain their popularity. At present the village cobbler is figuring in the local paper as a "Cured by Bunkum's Bilious12 Backache Bunion Beans" example, and beneath his photograph (taken at the age of nineteen; he is fifty-four now) is a glowing testimonial which begins with these words:—"For over[Pg 195] a decade I have suffered from an excess of Uric Acid, from Neurotic13 Dyspepsia, and from Optical Derangements. Until I discovered that marvellous panacea15...."
I marvel14 at his improved literary style; it is only a month since he wrote me as follows:—"Sir, i will be oblidged if you will let peter away at three oclock tonight hoping that you are well as this leaves me i am your obidt servent peter Macannish."
The magazine would also contain interesting editorials for the parents. Art would have a prominent place; if a bairn made a good sketch16 or a bonny design it would be reproduced.
Of course, the idea cannot be carried out for lack of funds. Yet I fancy that the money now spent on hounds and pet dogs would easily run a magazine for every school in Scotland.
The technical difficulties could easily be overcome. The bigger bairns could read the proofs and paste up the magazine, and the teachers would revise it before sending it to the printers.
I must get estimates from the printers, and[Pg 196] if they are moderate I shall try to raise funds by giving a school concert.
* * *
I see that the Educational Institute is advertising17 for a man who will combine the post of Editor of The Educational News with the office of Secretary to the Institute. The salary is ￡450 per annum.
This combining of the offices seems to me a great mistake. For an editor should be a literary man with ideas on education, while a good secretary should be an organizer. Because a man can write columns on education, that is no proof that he is the best man to write to the office washerwoman telling her not to come on Monday because it is a holiday.
I could edit the paper (I would take on the job for a hundred a year and the sport of telling the other fellow that his notions of education were all wrong), but I couldn't organise18 a party of boys scouts19. Kitchener is a great organiser, but I shouldn't care for the editorials of The New Statesman if he were editor.
I think that the Institute does not want a[Pg 197] man with ideas. It wants a man who will mirror the opinions of the Institute. To do this is a work of genius, for the Institute has no opinions. No man can represent a body of men. Suppose the Institute decides by a majority that it will support the introduction of "Love" as a subject of the curriculum. The editor may be a misogynist20, or he may have been married eight times, yet the poor devil has to sit down and write an editorial beginning: "Love has too long been absent from our schools. Who does not remember with holy tenderness his first kiss?..."
A paper can be a force only when it is edited by a man of force and personality. A man who writes at the dictation of another is a tenth-rater. That, of course, is why our press says nothing.
* * *
Little Mary Brown was stung by a wasp21 the other day as she sat in the class.
"Henceforward," I said, "the wasp that enters this room is to be slain22. Tom Macintosh I appoint you commander in chief."
I begin to think that I prefer the wasp to the campaign against it. To-day I was in the[Pg 198] midst of a dissertation23 on Trusts when Tom started up.
"Come on lads, there's a wasp!"
They broke a window and two pens; then they slew24 the wasp.
The less studious boys keep one eye on the window all day, and I found Dave Thomson chasing an imaginary wasp all round the room at Arithmetic time. Dave detests25 Arithmetic. But when I found that Tom Macintosh was smearing26 the inside window-sill with black currant jam, I disbanded the anti-wasp army.
* * *
The Inspectors27 refuse to allow teachers to use slates28 nowadays on the ground that they are insanitary.
To-day I reintroduced slates to all classes. My one reason was that my bairns were missing one of the most delightful32 pastimes of youth—the joy of making a spittle run down the slate29 and back again. I always look back with tenderness to my old slate. It was such a serviceable article. By running my slate-pencil up it I got all the beats of a drum; its wooden sides were the acknowledged tests for a new knife, as a hammer it[Pg 199] had few rivals. Then you could play at X-es and O-ies with impunity33; you simply licked your palm and rubbed the whole game out when the teacher approached.
In the afternoon half a dozen bairns brought sponges, and I sighed for the good old days when sanitary30 authorities were plumbers34 on promotion35.
* * *
I have given my bairns two songs—Screw-Guns and Follow Me Home, both by Kipling. I prefer them to the usual "patriotic36" song that is published for school use. I don't see the force of teaching children to be patriotic; the man who imagines that a dominie can teach a bairn to love his neighbour or his country is fatuous37. Flag-waving is the last futility38 of noble minds. The queer thing is that all these titled men who spout39 about Imperialism40 and Patriotism41, and "Make the Foreigner Pay" are enemies of the worker. They don't particularly want to see a State where slums and slavery will be no more; they are so busy thinking out a scheme to extend the Empire abroad that they haven't time to think about the Empire[Pg 200] at home. What is the use of an India or a South Africa if East Ham is to remain?
No, I refuse to teach my bairns to sing, "Britons never, never, never shall be slaves." My sense of humour won't allow me to introduce that song.
Although I like Kipling's verses I abominate42 Kipling's philosophy and politics. He is always to be found on the same platform with the Curzons and Milners and Roosevelts. He believes in "the big stick"; to him Britain is great because of her financiers, her viceroys, her engineers. He glories in enterprise and big ships. He believes with the late Lord Roberts that the Englishman is the salt of the earth. I should define Kipling as a Grown-up Public School Boy.
I always think that the "Patriot's" main contention43 is that a man ought to be ready to die for his country. I freely grant that it is a great thing to die for your country, but I contend that it is still greater to live for your country; and the man who tries to live for his country usually earns the epithet44 "Traitor45."
"What do they know of England who only England know?" Kipling says this,[Pg 201] or words to this effect. That's the worst of these travelled Johnnies; they go out to India or Africa, and two months after their arrival they pity the narrow vision of the people at home. After having talked much to travelled men I have come to the conclusion that travel is the most narrowing thing on earth.
"If I went out to India," I remarked one day to an Anglo-Indian friend at College, "and if I started to talk about Socialism in a drawing-room, what would happen?"
"Oh," he said with a smile, "they would listen to you very politely, but, of course, you wouldn't be asked again."
When I went down to Tilbury to see this friend off to India I looked at the crowd on the first-class deck.
"Dick," I said, "these people are awful. Look at their smugness, their eagerness to be correct at any expense. They are saying good-bye to wives and mothers and sweethearts, and the whole blessed crowd of 'em haven't an obvious emotion among 'em. I'll bet my hat that they won't even wave their hands when the tender goes off."
As I left the boat the first-class passengers[Pg 202] stood like statues, but one fat woman, with a delightfully46 plebeian47 face cried: "So long, old sport!" to a man beside me.
"Good!" cried Dick to me with a laugh.
"Lovely!" I called, and waved my hat frantically48 to the fat woman. Poor soul, I fear that society out East will be making her suffer for her lapse49 into bad form.
Travel is like a school-history reader; it forces you to study mere50 incident. The travelled man is an encyclop?dia of information; but I don't want to know what a man has seen; I want to know what he has thought. I am certain that if I went to live in Calcutta I should cease to think. I should marvel at the colour and life of the streets; I should find great pleasure in learning the lore51 of the native. But in a year I should very probably be talking of "damned niggers," and cursing the India Office as a crowd of asses31 who know nothing about India and its problems.
I once lent Ann Veronica to a clever young lady. Her father, an engineer who had been all over the world, picked up the book. Two days later he returned it with a final note dismissing me as a dangerous character for his[Pg 203] daughter to know. The lady was clever, and had mentality52 enough to read anything with impunity.
No, travel doesn't broaden a man's outlook.
My writing is like my teaching, it is an irresponsible ramble53. I meant to write about songs all the time to-night.
I curse my luck in not being a pianist. I want to give my bairns that loveliest of tenor54 solos—the Preislied from The Meistersingers. I want to give them Lawrence Hope's Slave's Song from her Indian Love Lyrics—"Less than the Dust beneath thy Chariot Wheel." And there are one or two catchy55 bits in Gipsy Love and The Quaker Girl that I should like them to know. I am sure that they would enjoy Mr. Jeremiah, Esquire, and The Gipsy's Song.
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1
flaring
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| a.火焰摇曳的，过份艳丽的 | |
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liars
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| 说谎者( liar的名词复数 ) | |
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peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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scathing
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| adj.（言词、文章）严厉的，尖刻的；不留情的adv.严厉地，尖刻地v.伤害，损害（尤指使之枯萎）( scathe的现在分词) | |
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mingle
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| vt.使混合，使相混；vi.混合起来；相交往 | |
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robins
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| n.知更鸟，鸫( robin的名词复数 )；（签名者不分先后，以避免受责的）圆形签名抗议书（或请愿书） | |
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caned
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| vt.用苔杖打（cane的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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prominence
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| n.突出；显著；杰出；重要 | |
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altruist
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| n.利他主义者，爱他主义者 | |
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publicity
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| n.众所周知，闻名；宣传，广告 | |
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bilious
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| adj.胆汁过多的；易怒的 | |
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neurotic
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| adj.神经病的，神经过敏的；n.神经过敏者，神经病患者 | |
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marvel
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| vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异；n.令人惊异的事 | |
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panacea
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| n.万灵药；治百病的灵药 | |
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sketch
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| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
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advertising
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| n.广告业；广告活动 a.广告的；广告业务的 | |
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organise
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| vt.组织，安排，筹办 | |
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scouts
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| 侦察员[机，舰]( scout的名词复数 )； 童子军； 搜索； 童子军成员 | |
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misogynist
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| n.厌恶女人的人 | |
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wasp
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| n.黄蜂，蚂蜂 | |
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slain
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| 杀死，宰杀，杀戮( slay的过去分词 )； (slay的过去分词) | |
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dissertation
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| n.（博士学位）论文，学术演讲，专题论文 | |
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slew
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| v.（使）旋转；n.大量，许多 | |
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detests
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| v.憎恶，嫌恶，痛恨( detest的第三人称单数 ) | |
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smearing
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| 污点，拖尾效应 | |
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inspectors
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| n.检查员( inspector的名词复数 )；（英国公共汽车或火车上的）查票员；（警察）巡官；检阅官 | |
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slates
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| （旧时学生用以写字的）石板( slate的名词复数 )； 板岩； 石板瓦； 石板色 | |
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slate
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| n.板岩，石板，石片，石板色，候选人名单；adj.暗蓝灰色的，含板岩的；vt.用石板覆盖，痛打，提名，预订 | |
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sanitary
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| adj.卫生方面的，卫生的，清洁的，卫生的 | |
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asses
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| n. 驴，愚蠢的人，臀部 adv. (常用作后置)用于贬损或骂人 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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impunity
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| n.(惩罚、损失、伤害等的)免除 | |
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plumbers
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| n.管子工，水暖工( plumber的名词复数 )；[美][口]（防止泄密的）堵漏人员 | |
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promotion
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| n.提升，晋级；促销，宣传 | |
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patriotic
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| adj.爱国的，有爱国心的 | |
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fatuous
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| adj.愚昧的；昏庸的 | |
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futility
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| n.无用 | |
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spout
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| v.喷出，涌出；滔滔不绝地讲；n.喷管；水柱 | |
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imperialism
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| n.帝国主义，帝国主义政策 | |
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patriotism
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| n.爱国精神，爱国心，爱国主义 | |
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abominate
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| v.憎恨，厌恶 | |
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contention
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| n.争论，争辩，论战；论点，主张 | |
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epithet
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| n.（用于褒贬人物等的）表述形容词，修饰语 | |
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traitor
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| n.叛徒，卖国贼 | |
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delightfully
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| 大喜，欣然 | |
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plebeian
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| adj.粗俗的；平民的；n.平民；庶民 | |
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frantically
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| ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
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lapse
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| n.过失，流逝，失效，抛弃信仰，间隔；vi.堕落，停止，失效，流逝；vt.使失效 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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51
lore
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| n.传说；学问，经验，知识 | |
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52
mentality
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| n.心理，思想，脑力 | |
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ramble
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| v.漫步，漫谈，漫游；n.漫步，闲谈，蔓延 | |
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tenor
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| n.男高音（歌手），次中音（乐器），要旨，大意 | |
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catchy
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| adj.易记住的，诡诈的，易使人上当的 | |
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