I once read that law's primary object is to protect the rich from the poor. The appalling truth of that saying dawned on me in Bow Street. Humour! Yes, there is humour in Bow Street. The grimmest, ugliest joke in the world is this.... Covent Garden Opera House stands across the street from the court. * * * To-day I told Senior II. to write up the following story, I advised them to add graces to it if they could. "A farmer went to Edinburgh for the day. He was walking down the High Street with open mouth when the fire engine came swinging round the corner. The farmer gave chase down the North Bridge and Leith Street, and owing to the heavy traffic the engine's rate was so slow that he could easily keep up with it. But it turned down London Road, and in the long silent street soon outdistanced him. He ran until he saw that it was hopeless. Then he stopped and held up a clenched fist. "Ye can keep yer dawmed tattie-chips," he cried, "Aw'll get them some other place." Mary Peters began thus:-- "Mr. Peter Mitchell went to Edinburgh for the day...." Mr. Peter Mitchell is Chairman of the School Board. * * * Why did I substitute "auld" for "dawmed" tattie-chips when I told the bairns the story. Art demands the "dawmed." I think I substituted the "auld" because I like a quiet life. I have no time to persuade indignant parents that "damn" is not a sin. But it was weakness on my part; I compromised, and compromise is always a lie. VI. This morning I had a note from a farmer in the neighbourhood. "DEAR SIR,--I send my son Andrew to get education at the school not Radical politics. I am, Yours respectfully, Andrew Smith." I called Andrew out. "Andrew," I said, with a smile, "when you go home to-night tell your father that I hate Radicalism possibly more than he does." The father came down to-night to apologise. "Aw thocht ye was ane o' they wheezin' Radicals," he explained. Then he added, "And what micht yer politics be?" "I am a Utopian," I said modestly. He scratched his head for a moment, then he gave it up and asked my opinion of the weather. We discussed turnips for half-an-hour, at the end of which time I am sure he was wondering how an M.A. could be such an ignoramus. We parted on friendly terms. * * * I do not think that I have any definite views on the teaching of religion to bairns; indeed, I have the vaguest notion of what religion means. I am just enough of a Nietzschean to protest against teaching children to be meek and lowly. I once shocked a dear old lady by saying that the part of the Bible that appealed to me most was that in which the Pharisee said: "I thank God that I am not as other men." I was young then, I have not the courage to say it now.