"I can't find your 'Record of Work,'" he said.
"I never kept one."
"But ... the Code demands one!"
"I know ... but I didn't keep one. My record of work is my pupils in after life."
"Yes," he said drily, "I know all about that, but you are supposed to keep a record that will show an inspector what you are doing to produce this after life record."
"Macdonald," I said impatiently, "if you mean to tell me that any man can tell what I am doing to prepare children for after life by squinting at a crowd of entries of the Took-the-History-of-the-Great-Rebellion-this-week order ... well, I don't understand your attitude to life in general."
"That's all very well," he protested, "but we aren't there to make the rules; we're paid servants who have to administer the laws of wiser men."
"How do you know that they are wiser?" I asked.
"They're wiser than I am anyway," he said with a smile.