Whilst our school was being rebuilt in another part of the metropolis, a loving mother called on the head-master in the City to intimate her intention of placing her little boy in the school as soon as the new building would be finished, and also to ask if she would be allowed to see the room in which her dear child would be taught.
It was a great pity the building was not advanced enough at the time to permit of her securing a corner for "her darling pet."
The mother to be most dreaded is the one whose husband has left her for India, or some other warm climate. She is restless, inquisitive, and never satisfied. Each remark you make to her son brings her on the school premises for inquiries. She writes letter upon letter, pays visit upon visit.
Once a week her son brings you a little note in the following style:
"Mrs. X. presents her compliments to Mr. So-and-so, and begs that her son may be excused for not having prepared his lesson, as he had a bad headache last night."
A husband may be a nuisance in a house, but when I was a school-master I always thought he was a great improvement to it.
(In the Examination Room.)
Sometimes parents send up their sons for scholarship examinations with very little luggage.