"Very good! Well, then, our rulers believe in two kinds of education. They send their sons to the public schools where boys are trained to be governors, but they send the rest of the sons of the community to State schools where they are trained to be disciplined and content with their lot." "That's nonsense." "Possibly, but I suppose you know that the members of the House of Lords and the Cabinet don't send their sons to L.C.C. schools." "You are simply preaching class war," he said. "I am. There is a class war--there has been for generations--but it is a one-sided war." "It is," said Macdonald grimly. "The upper class took the offensive long ago, and it keeps it yet. Look at the squire down in the village. He won't ride in the same railway compartment with you or me; he won't sit beside us in the theatre ... why, he won't lie beside us in the kirkyard: he's got that railed-off corner for his family. I don't blame him; he has been educated up in his belief, just as you and I have been educated up in the belief that we are his inferiors. When I was down in the school I lectured the whole class one day because I saw a boy doff his cap to the squire and nod to his mother three seconds afterwards. "Don't you see that this village is a little British Empire? Here there are only two classes--the big house and the village ... the ruling class and the ruled. The school trains the ruled to be ruled, and the kirk takes up the training on the Seventh Day. The minister talks a lot of prosy platitudes about Faith and Love and Charity, but he never thinks of saying a thing that the squire might take umbrage at." I broke off and refilled my pipe. "How are you getting on?" I asked. "Well enough. The bairns are nice." "A little bit noisy," he added, "but, of course, I was prepared for that. I heard about your experiment months ago. By the way, what sort of a teacher is Miss Watson?" "Excellent," I replied. "How often did you examine her classes?" "I never examined her classes, not formally, but her bairns spoke to me, and I judged her work from their conversation." "I examined their work yesterday; her spelling is weak and her geography atrocious." "Shouldn't wonder," I said carelessly. "I never bothered about those things; I judged her work by what her bairns were, not by what they knew. They're a bright lot when you ask them to think out things." "No wonder they fired you out," he laughed; "you're impossible as a dominie, you know." I smiled. "How do you like Jim Jackson?" I asked suddenly. "Cheeky devil!" "He's clever," I said. "You may call it cleverness, but I have another name for it. He is a fellow that requires to be sat on." "And you'll sit on him?" "I certainly shall ... heavily too."