“That has naethin’ to dae wi’t,” said he, quickly. “My private
disinclination to hae the wee smouts greetin’ disna affect the point at
a’. If oor yins needed it, I went oot for a daunder and left the job to
Jinnet. A woman’s aye the best hand at it, as I ken by my aunty Chirsty.
When she had the threshin’ o’, me, she aye gied me tuppence efter it
was done if I grat awfu’ sair, and I took guid care I never went
wantin’ money in thae days. I was only vexed she couldna thresh me
threepence-worth the time the shows were roond oor wye, and mony’s the
time I worked for’t.
“When the papers mak’ me wonder whether corporal punishment’s guid for
the young or no’, I jist tak’ a look at mysel’ in Jinnet’s new wardrobe
looking-gless, and, except for the flet feet--me bein’ a waiter--I don’t
see muckle wrang wi’ Erchie MacPherson, and the Lord kens there was nae
slackness o’ corporal punishment in his days, though then it was simply
ca’d a leatherin’. My mither threshed me because it wadna gae wrang
onywye--if I wasna need’nt the noo I wad be need’nt some ither time; and
my faither threshed me because there was a hard knot in the laces o’
his boots, and he couldna lowse’t. It didna dae me ony hairm, because I
ken’t they were fond enough o’ me.
“In the school we were weel threshed in the winter-time to keep us warm,
and in the summertime a stirrin’-up wi’ the tawse a’ roond made up for
the want o’ ventilation. If I never learned much else in the school, I
got a fair grup o’ nai-tural history, and yin o’ the tips I got was that
a horse-hair laid across the loof o’ the haund’ll split a cane or cut
the fingers aff a tawse, when ye’re struck by either the yin or the
ither. I made twa or three cairt-horses bald-heided at the tail wi’ my
experimentin’, but somethin’ aye went wrang; the maister either let fly
ower sudden, or it was the wrang kind o’ horse--at onyrate, I never mind
o’ cuttin’ the cane or the tawse.
“Whiles when I’m across at my guid-dochter’s, I hear her wee laddie,
Alick, greetin’ ower his coonts, and fear’t the maister’ll cane him
because they’re no’ richt.
“‘If a cistern wi’ an inlet pipe twa-and-a-half inches in diameter lets
in seventy-nine gallons eleeven quarts and seeven pints in twenty-fower
and a half’oors, and an ootlet pipe o’ three-quarters o’ an inch
diameter discharge forty-eight gallons nineteen quarts and five pints in
the six’oors, whit o’clock will the cistern be empty if the ootlet pipe
hiz a big leak in’t?’
“That’s the kind o’ staggerer puir wee Alick gets thrashed for if he
canna answer’t richt. I couldna dae a coont like that mysel’, as shair’s
death, if I was pyed for’t, unless I had the cistern aside me, and a
len’ o’ the measures frae the Mull o’ Kintyre Vaults, and Jinnet wi’ a
lump o’ chalk keepin’ tally. I’m no’ shair that it’s ony guid to thrash
wee Alick for no’ can’ daein’ a coont o’ that kind, or for no’ bein’
able to spell ‘fuchsia,’ or for no’ mindin’ the exact heights o’ a’ the
principal mountains in Asia and Sooth America.
“Hoo wad ye like it yoursel’? Ye canna put mathematics into a callan’s
heid by thrashin’ him ower the fingers, if he’s no’ made wi’ the richt
lump in his heid for mathematics; and if Alick’s schoolmaister gaes on
thinkin’ he can, I’ll gae oot some day to his school and maybe get the
jyle for’t.”
“Come, come, Erchie,” I protested; “you are in quite an inconsistent
humour to-day; surely Alick’s thrashings are all in the scheme of
nature. If he is not punished now for inability to do that interesting
proposition in compound proportion, he will be swindled out of part
of his just payment when paid for bricklaying by the piece when he
has taken to the trade, and the thing--once more as the Highlandman
said--is as broad as it’s wide.”
“Nane o’ my guid-dochter’s sons is gaun to tak’ to treds,” said Erchie,
coldly; “they’re a’ gaun to be bankers and electreecians and clerks and
genteel things o’ that sort. If I’m no’ consistent aboot, this, it’s
because o’ whit I tellt ye, that I’ve read ower mony o’ thae letters and
interviews in the papers, and canna mak’ up my mind. I ken fine a’
the beltin’s I got in the school were for my guid, but--but--but it’s
different wi’ wee Alick.”
“But we have all our wee Alicks, Erchie.”
“Then we’re a’ weel aff,” said Erchie, glowing, “for yon’s the
comicalest wee trate! The Rale Oreeginal.”
“But the teachers don’t understand him?”
“That’s the hale p’int,” said Erchie, agreeably; “the teachers never
dae. They’re no’ pyed for understandin’ a’ the wee Alicks: a’ that
can be expected for the wages the schoolmaisters get in Gleska is that
they’ll haul the wee cratur by the scruff o’ the neck through a’ the
standards.. The schoolmaister and the mither ought to be mair prized and
bigger pyed than ony ither class in the country, but they’re no’, and
that’s the reason their jobs are often sae badly filled up.
“If education was a’ that folk think it is, there wad lang syne hae been
nae need for cane nor strap. For mair nor a generation noo, every bairn
has had to go to the school--a’ the parents o’ a’ the weans in school
the noo have had an education themsel’s, so that baith at hame and
in the school the young generation of the present day have sae mony
advantages ower whit you and I had, they ought to be regular gems o’
guid behaviour and intelligence.
“But I canna see that they’re ony better than their grandfaithers were
at the same age. Except my good-dochter’s boy Alick, I think they’re a’
worse.
“A’ the difference seems to be that they’re auld sooner than we
were, smoke sooner, and swear sooner, and in a hunner wyes need mair
leatherin’ than we did. Education o’ the heid’s no’ education o’
the hert, and the only thing that comes frae crammin’ a callant o’
naiturally bad disposeetion with book-learnin’ is that he’s the better
trained for swindlin’ his fellow-men when he’s auld enough to try his
hand at it. I wad be awfu’ prood o’ every new school that’s in Gleska
if I didna ken that I had to pye a polis tax for’t by-and-bye as weel as
school tax.”
“How glad we ought to be, Erchie, that we were born in a more virtuous
age,” I said, and Erchie screwed up his face.
“We werena,” said he. “It’s aye been the same since the start o’ things.
I’ve jist been sayin’ to ye whit I mind o’ hearin’ my faither say to
mysel’. There’ll aye be jist enough rogues in the world to keep guid
folk like you and me frae gettin’ awfu’ sick o’ each ither.”