CONTENTS

CHAPTERPAGE
I.[7]
II.[15]
III.[30]
IV.[39]
V.[61]
VI.[73]
VII.[86]
VIII.[97]
IX.[108]
X.[122]
XI.[135]
XII.[143]
XIII.[156]
XIV.[175]
XV.[189]
XVI.[201]
XVII.[214]
[ADVERTISEMENTS.]

A DOMINIE DISMISSED

I.

I have packed all my belongings. My trunk and two big boxes of books stand in the middle of a floor littered with papers and straw. I had my typewriter carefully packed too, but I took it from out its wrappings, and I sit amidst the ruins of my room with my wee machine before me. It is one of those little folding ones weighing about six pounds.

The London train goes at seven, and it is half-past five now. It was just ten minutes ago that I suddenly resolved to keep a diary ... only a dominie can keep a Log, and I am a dominie no longer.

I hear Janet Brown's voice outside. She is singing "Keep the Home Fires Burning" ... and she was in tears this afternoon. The limmer ought to be at home weeping her dominie's departure.