"Is it usual, Colonel," I asked, "for the commander of the gun team to act as the band?"
Jim scratched his head.
"The band was all killed at Mons," he said, "and the privates aren't musical." Then he struck up Sister Susie's Sewing Shirts for Soldiers.
I know that I have brought out all the innate goodness of these bairns. When Jim Jackson came to the school he had a bad look; if a girl happened to push him he turned on her with a murderous scowl. Now that I think of it I realise that Jim is always a bright cheery boy now. When I knew him first I could see that he looked upon me as a natural enemy, and if I had thrashed him I might have made him fear me, but the bad look would never have left his face.
If I told anyone that I had made these bairns better I should be met with the contemptuous glance that usually greets the man who blows his own horn. Stupid people can never understand the man who indulges in introspection; they cannot realise that a man can be honest with himself. If I make a pretty sketch I never hesitate to praise it. On the other hand I am readier than anyone else to declare one of my inferior sketches bad. Humility is nine-tenths hypocrisy.
I do have a certain amount of honesty, and I close my log with a solemn declaration of my belief that I have done my work well.
As for the work that the Scotch Education Department expected me to do ... well, I think the last entry in my official Log Book is a fair sample of that.
"The school was closed to-day for the summer holidays. I have received Form 9b from the Clerk."