A DAY WITH THE DOMINIES.

Evening Star, Issue 726, 2 July 1887, Page 1

A DAY WITH THE DOMINIES.

[By Idler.] ; On Thursday last I had an idle day about town, and in the course of my purposeless peregrinations ran up against an old acquaintance whom I had not met for some years. After the adjournment which customarily follows ■■ •- such a meeting, and the usual exchange of conventional talk, “Well, old man,” said I, .“you are looking quite respectable. What are you doing with yourself now ?” “ Guess,” said be laconically, i “ Can t think, I’m sure,” said I. “ Any of We old games?* (These oldgamts- T I may remark, though many and hid never deviated from the strict line of respectability.) “None of the old games,” said he; “anew line altogether for me. lam now a teacher.” “ A what ?” said I. ... “A teacher,” said ha—"a schoolmaster.” “But what do yon teach?” said L “I ' thought (no reflection, old man, I’m sure), but I really did think that a teacher had to know something; had to pass examinations in grammar and Euclid and that kind of thing, you know.” “ Well, so did I,” said my friend rather testily, “and,"in a tone of lofty dignity. ''l have done that—did it easily—and have been in charge of a school for the last two years; and 1 I can tell you it is a hard and responsible work, too, more <so than most people—— ! “Yes?” said I interrogatively. “If I .may ■■ r * use a bit of American slang, ‘I should smile.”’ “Should you?” said he argumentatively. Then, vukarly, with a touch of the old Adam, “ You’d trad the wrong side of your face drawn up then. I tell you it’s no joke to sweat your brains out teaching a lot of thick-headed kids everything from A B C to physiology, and. besides, have to be pleasant to their confounded old mothers, and—and—in fact, keep square . with everybody.” “I daresay, I daresay,” I said, seeing that he was now looking distressingly in earnest. “I am quite sure it must be very hard work indeed. Have another, old fellow.” “ Don’t mind if I do,” said he, “ for 1 havea lot of work to do to-day. Onr annual meeting is on, and I have to talk a good deal. Can’t in' fact get ont of it; for they expect me always to take a leading part in pretty nearly everything.” I did not quite see the connection between the acceptance and the statement, bnt contented myself with remarking jocularly: “I think I must go around and hear you.” His countenance fell at once. , “ 1 should be awfully glad to take you, old' man,” he said, “but”—and here gazed on me with sorrow and commiseration—“l don’t , think they admit outsiders. In faot I know they don’t, for I saw a fellow tamed away yesterday. Have another drink, Old man/’ I accepted the other drink as in friendship bound, watching my friend’s countenance the while, knowing well that he wanted to humbug . me out of going to this meeting, and con- : eluding at the same time that his active part in these proceedings was very small. For 1 ' this reason I persisted in suggesting ways and means of gaining admission for me, bnt he pnt : _ me off at last by saying that it was after twelve o’clock, and that no more business would be done till later in the afternoon. “I might work you in this afternoon,” he said, “and (relief illuminating his features! say yon meet me here at two o’clock, and,”, loftily again, “I’ll see what I can do. Which way are you going? Up? Ah, I have some business the other way. Ta-ta for the present.” I looked after him for a moment, ans, ' knowing him of old, knew he was gone for ;ood. However, I gave him his chance, for at the appointed time I was ready for him. He came not. “Then,” thought I, “I shall go ' alone.” Asking at a bookseller’s where the schoolmasters’ meeting was going on, .I soon * made my way to the “ Toung Men’s Booms.” ■ I got there at 2 20 p.m. and found the hall, empty. There was, however, a sleepy country-; /: * fied-looking young man leaning against tme ’ 1 wall outside with a halo of tobacco* smoke around his head. “Can youkindly tell me,”-I . said in my politest manner, “ when the school- ; masters’meeting begins.” The teachers? meeting,” he said sharply. “ Oh, yes, 2.30 p.m." “This,” thought I, “despite the-pipe, surely - must be a schoolmaster. Are you a member of the profession?” said I. “Profession”mani- . festly “fetched” him. “Yes,” he replied in qmte n fticmH-r-two—Are yon ?” “I JESgWt I have not the honor,” I said, “but i snmiln— l—like very much to attend one of your meetings. - Bnt I understand you do not admit strangers—laymen I mean.” _ •. Now, if I do pride myself on anything, it is , the distinctness of ray enunciation and the ~. clearness of my articulation. And yet, what - did this slurp young man do bnt first glance. - furtively, then gaze intently at my nether man, and then reply “I don’t know of any rule . about excluding strangers, and, as for lame men, not any rule about them neither.” Was this young man punning? No; he was too serious for that, and the absence of grammatical respectability about the end of lus sen- . tence rather added effect to his seriousness..- ; “Thank you,” I said, withdrawing. “1 dare-, - say I shall be able to get in.” “ On, yes; only .- r7>: ( just got to walk in,” he said; “nobody to s//, stop you.” •. . v After a few minutes spent in walking to the Octagon and back, and a few more spent in studying the architectural beauties of the Bint’ Church, I walked sharply across the street, put -on-my aerenest manner, and entered for the mat time a young men’s Christian Association tone- ■ turn sanctorum. After meeklyYakbtga jawmt place, I looked about me and found myself ST —— well-lighted room with walls in a very bad state of preservation and the usual array of beaches. The audience, so far, was small, consisting of a number of youths, and men of various ages. _ In front and on the common levd ware a table- ■ littered with papers, a few chairs, a grand - *- piano, covered, a with some names on it, a small organ, and, in a remote corner; % a table for the rc-orters. V Presently the chair was taken by a wrtly and . rubicund gentleman in a frock-coat, the whiteness of whose bristling hair was oertainly not justified by the smiling freshness of his complexion and the juvenile twinkle of his merry eyes. Certainly not like a schoolmaster this; more the appearance and manner of what oldfashioned writers delighted to call “minehosi. Shortly after a young man of erect figure and swinging gait strode up the' hall, and hurriedly took a chair to the right of the chairman. Bitting side-face to the audience, he gave one more the idea of an infantry corporal thaii of a dominie. A jaunty cap and uniform, and he could not do other than look the part. No typical schoolmaster he. _ w A glance around permits me to see that close *> J behind me quite a number of young ladies r have established themselves. I now regret '' * that I came so far forward, f»r I can gratify my cariosity only by vagrant peeps. But to business. A stir and bustle take place for a moment, and then the chairman calls upon a gentleman whose name I do not catch “to move the motion standing in his name.” All eyes are directed to a hirsute and weather-beaten man, who wears a skall-cap which he removes on rising to speak. Bus motion is a technical one, and has something to do with what another speaker subsequently called “delegates.” I notice that he is very earnest and very Scotch; also that he calls “ special” “ speeshaL” His action is not elegant, and consists of a nodding of the head and a regular up-and-down movement of the . - right hand. After a short speech In support of ? his motion he sits down abruptly. ~ The chairman calls upon anyone wishing to ; speak to the motion to 4° so ; and, after an interval, a fleshy, middle - aged ■ gentleman takes the floor. He steps confidentelly ont into the vacant space near the table, and faces his audience and the chair alternately. He speaks, clearly and well, and, judging by the applause he receives, makes soma points. He is emphatic in denouncing the mover’s proposal, or “proposition,” as he calls ; it, and closes a vigorous speech with an amendment of terrific length and intricacy. He is followed by an elderly gentleman who has a side seat the table, and is evidently In. W- ' _ health. He wears a heavy overcoat, and speaks ""'" quickly and jerkily, coughing nervously the while, and fidgeting with a bit of paper with his fingers. He speaks against {he motion, and,finally, after exhorting the mover, for the sake’ of his “common sense/’ to withdraw, becomes very pale, and rits dpwn. The mover, however, demines. A man of hezt takes the. floor. He speaks wesßitrilfbrriblyion ihe..' ire whole, deprecates the town against country, and somewhat, declares that “ animosity between the interests country teachers.” He also meat. Then follow a great J irregular talk. The same members speak sevemtimes. - more amendments are spoken of. tmtiU in no interval,|the chairman on the hog acid oap springs to J of reply,' at ' tno -samp . .^hpe.. ing tabmli ■ quotes some oomio vene, and;~,j?(ijW^pß^^|^!

chairman, on hi. gf*. is aU he wl«hMtoMy(fo , *® ttm ?* b y the w ay, that he S JW floor). A laugh is raised, rr •round, and the quoter of verses col- “ sat upon.” More motions are brought iSrinurd, and I begin to feel wearied and ray head to ache. One teacher drags in tfae word "business’’seven times in a sentence of about fifteen words. Another persistently speaks of his"brawnch.” Yetanotherwantstokroweomething about two teachers who has ” a wish to exchange places. The a ; oretaiy asks: “ Will I be in order, Mr Chairman V etc , etc. Another teacher, who is emphatic and pounds the floor much, speaks about “honesty” with a hearty faaspirate heaved bout beach time. Still another is interested in a particular “ subjick.” Clearly these teachers, or some of them, must have one kind of orthoepy and syntax for school use and another for congressional purposes. Eventually, to the relief of everybody, all further motions are shelved, and a member steps out to read a paper. He begins his paper in an abrupt jerky way, and explains its title and his reason for choosing it in a voice that has a ring of defiance in its every accent. He is plainly “a character and a humorist, for his every effort, though his own face remains stolid, creates hearty laughter. I hear him but indistinctly from where I sit, but what Ido hear is good and to the point. Ho is strong, in his Ruskinese style, in the condemnation of long words and abstruse terms in the teaching of children, but I think at times he makes his arguments extend too far. Ho him self indulges in bold flights of metaphor and imagery, but in every flight has the approval of his audience. He stands up for the simple mother tongue, and scores_strongly against the meeting by quoting their own use of the word “ conversazione ” on the:r programmes. Finally he concludes with a resolution, which is declared technically out of order. While discussion thereon is going on, I take advantage of the general stir and bustle to leave the room. Others are out before me, and in the gathering mists of the evening there are much hearty talk, much pulling on of gloves, and much lighting of pipes. I look out for my self-styled important friend of the early part of the day, whose voice I have failed to hear, but behold him not. I feel altogether, as I step out sharply homewards, that my afternoon has seen not badly spent, and that now I know a d'fferent kind of schoolmaster from the ancient pedantic bugbear of my youth.