I even had a little theory that had once obtained for me the good
graces of a head-master.
This gentleman informed me that the poor fellow I was going to replace
had shot himself in despair of being ever able to keep his boys in
order, and he asked me what I thought of it.
"Well," I unhesitatingly answered, "I would have shot the boys."
"Right!" he exclaimed; "you are my man."
If, as I strongly suspected from certain early reminiscences, to have
been a mischievous boy was a qualification for being a good
school-master, I thought I ought to make a splendid one.
The result of my first interview with British boys was that we
understood each other perfectly. We were to make a happy family. That
was settled in a minute by a few glances at each other.