I feared that I was losing Jim and Janet and the others, but I have not
lost them. They conform to Macdonald's reign of authority when they are
in school, but they do it with their tongues in their cheeks. But only
the select few have followed my banner. Jim is the only boy, and the
only girls are Janet, Jean, Ellen, Annie, and Gladys. Barbara is of
divided allegiance. The others are Macdonaldised. I find it a very
difficult thing to define Macdonaldisation. Possibly its most
distinguishing characteristic is what I might call a dour pertness. The
bairns have lost their standard of values; they don't know limits. I
pinched Mary's cheek when I met her this morning on her way to school,
and she tossed her head in the air and looked at me with a cheeky
expression which meant: "What do you think you're doing?" If I rag Eva
she answers with brazen impudence. I have given up speaking facetiously
to the boys, for they also were impudent. They were not like that when I
had them; I could play with them, joke with them, rag them and they took
it all with the best good humour; they teased me and played jokes on me,
but they did it in the right spirit.
I have seen it again and again. Strict discipline destroys a child's
values of good taste and bad taste. Naturally when freedom is denied
them they do not know what freedom means. The atrocities committed by
the super-disciplined German army are quite understandable to me; like
Macdonaldised bairns they did not understand the freedom they suddenly
found themselves enjoying, and they converted it into licence. I can
tell the character of a village dominie when I stop to ask a group of
boys the way to the next village when I am cycling.
Jimmy Young slouches past me now with a stare of hostility, and it isn't
six months ago since he came running to me on the road one night for
protection from the policeman who was after him for stealing a turnip
from Peter Mitchell's field. The policeman came up and in a loud voice
accused the laddie, while at the same time he threw in a hint or two
that my lax discipline had something to do with the case.
"If they got a little mair o' the leather, things wud be different," he
growled.
I do not like policemen; their little brief authority somehow manages to
get my back up.
"What's the row?" I asked mildly.
"This young devil has been stealin' neeps," he roared, "and Mitchell's
gaein' to mak a pollis court case o't."
I said nothing; I took Jimmy by the arm and walked towards the gate of
Mitchell's field. I vaulted it and deliberately pulled up a turnip and
peeled it and ate it, while the constable stood writing down notes
voluminously.
"Understand," I said to him, "that I am not primarily encouraging Jimmy
to steal turnips; my one aim is to appear in the police court with him
if he is charged. I would rather a thousand times be with him in the
dock than with you and your farmer in the witness-box."
Peter Mitchell did not prosecute.
In these days Jimmy realised that he and I were friends; we understood
each other. Now he does not think of trying to understand me; I am an
ex-dominie, and that's enough for him. Macdonald is the real dominie;
Jimmy must be circumspect when he is about else there will be ructions.
I don't count: I have no authority. I should like to hear Macdonald's
remarks to Jimmy if the constable came to the school to tell of one of
the laddie's escapades.
I have lost Jimmy and a hundred others, but I thank heaven for the
bairns left to me. They come up nearly every night, and they spend
Saturdays and Sundays with me.
Last Saturday Macdonald came into the field where we were playing. Janet
and the other girls froze at once; all the fun went out of them, and
they looked at him timidly. He tried to show that he also could be
playful and he tried to romp with them for a while. The romp wasn't a
success; they were acting all the time, and when a girl "tigged" him she
did so with a woefully apologetic air as if she would say: "Excuse my
touching you, sir, but it's only a game, you know. I'll take care not to
presume when we meet on Monday morning."
Luckily he did not stay long, and the girls resumed their attempt to tie
my legs together with grass ropes, their motive being to stuff my mouth
with brambles. I invited them down to the bothy for tea, and they rushed
off to lay the table.
"And we'll look into a' yer drawers and places," cried Jean, "and read
a' yer love-letters."
"If you could read I believe you _would_ read them," I shouted after
her.
"Eh! What an insult!" she cried. "Aw'll just go straucht doon to Maggie
and tell her no to hae ye!"
After tea Gladys suddenly said: "Come on, we'll play at schules, eh?"
The idea was hailed with delight, and Annie requisitioned the services
of my new braces for a strap, and ranged us round the fire.
"Now," she said, "this is playtime and you are all outside, and when I
blow the whistle you'll all come in."
"Blaw yer bugle," said Jean, "just to mak it like it was when ye were at
the schule." So I played the "Fall In" and went out to play. I came in
late.
"Why are you late?" demanded Annie.