What says the good book, slightly altered? “A certain man went to Jericho and fell among landowners.” Here let me insert the villagers’ reply to the Reverend Managers’ Committee and the Norfolk Education Committee: That we, the electors and ratepayers of Burston and Shimpling, in peaceable meeting assembled on Burston Common, again protest against the action of certain school managers in bringing about the dismissal of the teachers, Mr. and Mrs. Higdon, whom we all desire to keep; we who are parents have been more than satisfied with the educational progress during the past three years; the children have liked going to school, and have been more regular in their attendances than ever before; the report of His Majesty’s Inspector is a most excellent one, so that upon no grounds whatever can we see any reasonable excuse for the removal of these teachers from the school. The children wrote essays upon these exciting incidents. I have read them. They have given me great joy. Some are quite dramatic. THE NIGHT BEFORE THE STRIKE. By a Strike Boy. The night before we went on strike we had a meeting on the comon. (Nothing common about _his_ spelling is there?) Mr. Durbridge, who is a soldier now, had two lamps a light. All the children goin’ on strike. Went into a ring and held there hands up. So we all went into the ring. There were 66 children. The last night we went to the Council School we all had a Easter egg each and a orange each. These were Mrs. Higdon’s parting gifts to the children. But she has not parted from them yet (Glory be!) and this was over sixteen months ago. Other essays tell us how “the strikers marched with flags and banners, with cards on their breasts, ‘We want our teachers back.’” One boy writes “that God sent fine weather a purpose for us strikers.” I hope he did, sonny. Another states “how they marched round the candlestick.” This is a route march which consists of a twist and a double to pass the Council School and the Rectory, although there is no mention of the children being invited in to tea. We gain information from these essays, “as to bobies standing round.” Evidently this boy has studied un-Natural History. We also learn “how Mrs. Boulton brought a pale of lemonade and nuts, and we sang ‘We will all cling together like the ivy on the old garden wall,’ and we have done so except two Turncote blacklegs.” Not white Wyandottes, blacklegs. Another budding Jim Mace perchance (for James hailed from “Swarfham where they do tree days’ trashin’ for norfun’”) informs us “that they had three or four policemen to gaurd the school, but (as he quaintly remarks) _there was no need_ for _them as we did not get to fighting_.” Evidently a good job for the policemen that Jack did not tackle them.