A Dominie in Doubt

Produced by Al Haines
To Homer Lane, whose first lecture convinced me that I knew nothing about education. I owe much to him, but I hasten to warn educationists that they must not hold him responsible for the views given in these pages. I never understood him fully enough to expound his wonderful educational theories.
Just give me your candid opinion of A Dominie's Log; I'd like to hear it.
Macdonald looked up from digging into the bowl of his pipe with a dilapidated penknife. He is now head-master of Tarbonny Public School, a school I know well, for I taught in it for two years as an ex-pupil teacher.
Six days ago he wrote asking me to come and spend a holiday with him, so I hastily packed my bag and made for Euston.
This evening had been a sort of complimentary dinner in my honour, the guests being neighbouring dominies and their wives, none of whom I knew. We had talked of the war, of rising prices, and a thousand other things. Suddenly someone mentioned education, and of course my unfortunate Log had come under discussion.
I had been anxious to continue my discussion with a Mrs. Brown on the subject of the relative laying values of Minorcas and Buff Orpingtons, but I had been dragged to the miserable business in spite of myself.
Now they were all gone, and Macdonald had returned to the charge.
It's hardly a fair question, said Mrs. Macdonald, to ask an author what he thinks of his own book. No man can judge his own work, any more than a mother can judge her own child.
That's true! I said. A man can't judge his own behaviour, and writing a book is an element of behaviour. Besides, there is a better reason why a writer cannot judge his own work, I added.
Because he never reads it? queried Macdonald with a grin.
I shook my head.