"'Hoots, Jeemie,' says I, 'it's easy; just bring in a few bitties frae the Bible.' "Auld Jeemie he scarted his heid. "'Man, Dauvit,' says he, 'I cudna say twa words o' the Bible.' "Weel-a-weel, I had to shove him oot o' the shop, and I tell ye, boys, he was shakin' like a shakky-trummly. "Weel, in aboot half-an-hour Jeemie cam back, and he was smilin' like onything. "'Hoo did ye get on?' I speered. "'Graund!' he cried, '. . . she was deid afore I got there!'" * * * * * When I published my _Log_ a correspondent wrote accusing me of being disloyal to my colleagues in the teaching profession. "Where is your professional etiquette?" he wrote. I had lots of letters from teachers, some flattering, some not. One man wrote me from Croydon:-- "Dear Sir,--Are you a fool or merely a silly ass?" "Both," I replied, "else I should not have paid 2d. for your letter." In haste the poor man hastened to forward two penny stamps, and to apologise for not having stamped the letter he sent me. "I really thought that I had stamped it," he wrote. Then I wrote him a nice letter telling him that the mistake was mine, for his first letter had had a stamp on it after all. He never replied to that, and I suppose that now he goes about telling his friends that I am a fool, a silly ass, and a typical Scot. Authors hear queer things about themselves. The other day a friend of mine asked for my _Log_ in a West End library. As the librarian handed over the book she shook her head sadly. "Isn't it sad about the man who wrote that book?" she said. My friend was startled. "Sad! What do you mean?" "Oh, haven't you heard?" asked the librarian in surprise; "he's a confirmed drunkard now." "Impossible!" cried my friend, "with whisky at ten and six a bottle!" But I meant to write about colleagues. One day a class was holding a self-government meeting, and they sent for me. I was annoyed because I was having my after-dinner smoke in the staff-room. However I went up. "Hullo!" I said as I entered, "what do you want?" Eglantine the chairman said: "A member of this class has insulted you." "Impossible!" I cried. Then Mary got up. "I did," she blurted out nervously; "I said you were just a silly ass." "That's all right!" I said cheerfully, "I am," and I made for the door. Then the class got excited. "Aren't you going to do anything?" asked Ian in surprise. "Good Lord, no!" I cried. "Why should I?" "You're on the staff," said Ian. "Look here," I said impatiently, "I hereby authorise the crowd of you to call me any name you like." The class became indignant. "You can't criticise the staff," said one. "Why not?" I asked, and they looked at each other in alarm. This was carrying self-government too far. Suddenly Mary jumped up. "Then if we can criticise the staff here goes! I accuse Miss Brown of favouritism." It was a bombshell. Everyone jumped up, and some cried: "Shame! Withdraw!" The chairman appealed to me.