Our boys one day decided on founding a little literary society. As a few periodicals were to be bought and other little expenses incurred, their committee pa.s.sed a resolution that an annual subscription of five shillings should be demanded of the members.

A father immediately wrote to the young president of the new society, asking if it was compulsory for his boy to join the society, as he did not see the force of paying five shillings for what, he thought, his boy was ent.i.tled to enjoy for nothing. The _pater_ received his due by return of post. The president of the society answered:

"DEAR SIR:

"Your son is not at all compelled to join our society. The subscription of five shillings was decided upon simply to keep our meetings select."

The Englishman has a supreme contempt for what is cheap. It is in his nature. He cannot understand that there is any value in what he has not to pay for.

I cannot forget the time when a young lunatic hanged himself at Christ's Hospital, and the plethora of letters that were sent to the papers by parents who seemed to be anxious to seize the opportunity of trying to bring discredit on that splendidly conducted school, one of the most interesting philanthropic inst.i.tutions in England.

A father, sheltering himself behind a pseudonym, went the length of writing to the _Daily News_ to say that he had had three sons educated at Christ's Hospital, but that he thanked G.o.d he had not any more to send there.

The Governors of Christ's Hospital spend 60 a year upon each blue-coat boy. The three sons of this "indignant" father therefore cost the Hospital something like 2,000.

What respect this man would have felt for the school if the money had been drawn out of his own pocket in the shape of capitation fees!

The following conversation once took place between a lady and the head master of a great public school:

"I have a little boy eleven years old," said the lady, "whom my husband is anxious to have educated here. He is a very clever little fellow. We have heard that, on leaving the school to go to one of the two great universities, some boys received exhibitions varying in value from 80 to 100 a year for four years. Do you think, sir, that our son would get one, for the probability of his obtaining such an exhibition would be a great inducement to us to trust the boy to your care?"

"Well," replied the head-master, with great command over his countenance, "I am afraid I cannot commit myself to any such promise."

The lady retired. Her promising son was probably sent to a more accommodating school.

The same head-master once received the visit of a man who asked him point-blank if the scholarship examinations were conducted honestly, or, in other words, if the scholarships were given according to merit.

From the answer he received he deemed it expedient to beat a speedy retreat.

When a school has to offer, say, six scholarships to the public, and there are a hundred candidates applying for them, you may easily imagine that it is difficult to persuade the parents of the ninety-four boys who fail that the scholarships are given according to merit.

In distributing six scholarships among a hundred candidates you make six ungrateful fathers and ninety-four discontented ones.

Whilst our school was being rebuilt in another part of the metropolis, a loving mother called on the head-master in the City to intimate her intention of placing her little boy in the school as soon as the new building would be finished, and also to ask if she would be allowed to see the room in which her dear child would be taught.

It was a great pity the building was not advanced enough at the time to permit of her securing a corner for "her darling pet."

The mother to be most dreaded is the one whose husband has left her for India, or some other warm climate. She is restless, inquisitive, and never satisfied. Each remark you make to her son brings her on the school premises for inquiries. She writes letter upon letter, pays visit upon visit.

Once a week her son brings you a little note in the following style:

"Mrs. X. presents her compliments to Mr. So-and-so, and begs that her son may be excused for not having prepared his lesson, as he had a bad headache last night."

A husband may be a nuisance in a house, but when I was a school-master I always thought he was a great improvement to it.

(_In the Examination Room._)

Sometimes parents send up their sons for scholarship examinations with very little luggage.

I remember a dear little boy, between ten and eleven, who was a candidate for one of our vacant scholarships.

On reaching the seat that was a.s.signed to him, he was provided with the Latin paper by the school secretary, and presented with half a ream of beautiful writing paper for his answers.

We thought he did not appear very busy, and presently, as I came up to him, I spoke a few kind words and gave him a little pat on the back.

"Well, how are you getting on?" I said.

"Please, sir, I can't do this paper. I don't know what it is about," he said, looking at me as if for help.

"Don't you know any Latin?" I inquired.

"Yes, sir; I know my first two declensions."

"Is that all the Latin you know?"

"Yes, sir."

"I suppose you won't take up Greek, will you?"

"I expect I had better not, sir, as I have never learned any," he replied, with his eyes half out of their sockets. "Is it difficult, sir?" he suggested, thinking I was not looking satisfied with his answer.

"Not very," I replied; "but if I were you I would not have my first try at it to-day."

"Thank you, sir," said my little friend.

"Do you know any French?" I then asked.

"Please, sir, mamma taught me a few sentences."

"Well, let me hear."

"Please, sir, I know _Quelle heure est-il?_ and _Comment vous portez-vous?_"