The other business that had occupied the committee was very quickly despatched. Mr. Tait was called in, and Mr. Walker was telling the committee what he knew of Mr. Tait’s abilities and scholarship, when Mrs. Walker, after the servant had again carried the hissing roast through the lobby, half opened the study door, and gave a nod to Mr. Walker. This, along with the appeal to the lower nature through the sense of smell, proved irresistible. The gentleman who had been deputed to examine the applicant did so with such haste, and put such childish questions, that everybody saw it was a joke, for he rattled off questions and answers as quickly as he could. Mr. Tait never needed to utter a word.
Arithmetic,—said he. Ques. How many are six and four?—Ans. Ten, to be sure; that will do for that.
History.—Ques. Who gave the king the most practical lessons?—Ans. George Buchanan; right again.
Geography.—Ques. What is the largest town in the world? Ans. Why, Biggar of course—London’s a big town, but Biggar’s Biggar.
Mathematics.—Ques. What is a simple equation? Ans. Six and half-a-dozen.
Latin.—Ques. What is the Latin for Fish? Ans. Aqua vitæ, or “Glenlivat.” Ques. Translate Ex nihilo nihil fit? Ans. It’s time we had something.
General Knowledge.—Ques. What’s the best change for a wearied teacher? Ans. Hill air, for it always makes him hilarious.
Literature.—Ques. What did John Gilpin’s wife say to him, and what did he reply?
Ans. “The dinner waits, and we are tired;”
Says Gilpin, “So am I.”
The examination was declared satisfactory. Mr. Tait was appointed schoolmaster of Blinkbonny. The merry company sought the dining-room, did ample justice to Mrs. Walker’s hospitality, and drank Mr. Tait’s good health and great success to him after that toast had been proposed by Mr. Walker, who, in doing so, spoke a good deal of Mr. Tait’s uncle, David Tait of Blackbrae in this parish, who will reappear more prominently amongst the future “Bits.”