“Sober conclusions hae naethin’ to dae wi’ skelpin’ weans, as I ken fine that brocht up ten o’ a family and nearly a’ that’s spared o’ them daein’ weel for themsel’s. The auld Doctor in oor kirk talks aboot love and chastisement, but in my experience human nature wad be a’ to bleezes lang afore this if faithers and mithers didna whiles lose their tempers and gie their weans whit they deserved. If you’re the kind o’ man that could thresh a puir wee smout o’ a laddie in cauld bluid, I’m no’, and I canna help it.”
“And did you thrash your ten much, Erchie?”
I asked, with a doubt as to that essential ill-temper in his case.
“That has naethin’ to dae wi’t,” said he, quickly. “My private disinclination to hae the wee smouts greetin’ disna affect the point at a’. If oor yins needed it, I went oot for a daunder and left the job to Jinnet. A woman’s aye the best hand at it, as I ken by my aunty Chirsty. When she had the threshin’ o’, me, she aye gied me tuppence efter it was done if I grat awfu’ sair, and I took guid care I never went wantin’ money in thae days. I was only vexed she couldna thresh me threepence-worth the time the shows were roond oor wye, and mony’s the time I worked for’t.
“When the papers mak’ me wonder whether corporal punishment’s guid for the young or no’, I jist tak’ a look at mysel’ in Jinnet’s new wardrobe looking-gless, and, except for the flet feet—me bein’ a waiter—I don’t see muckle wrang wi’ Erchie MacPherson, and the Lord kens there was nae slackness o’ corporal punishment in his days, though then it was simply ca’d a leatherin’. My mither threshed me because it wadna gae wrang onywye—if I wasna need’nt the noo I wad be need’nt some ither time; and my faither threshed me because there was a hard knot in the laces o’ his boots, and he couldna lowse’t. It didna dae me ony hairm, because I ken’t they were fond enough o’ me.
“In the school we were weel threshed in the winter-time to keep us warm, and in the summertime a stirrin’-up wi’ the tawse a’ roond made up for the want o’ ventilation. If I never learned much else in the school, I got a fair grup o’ nai-tural history, and yin o’ the tips I got was that a horse-hair laid across the loof o’ the haund’ll split a cane or cut the fingers aff a tawse, when ye’re struck by either the yin or the ither. I made twa or three cairt-horses bald-heided at the tail wi’ my experimentin’, but somethin’ aye went wrang; the maister either let fly ower sudden, or it was the wrang kind o’ horse—at onyrate, I never mind o’ cuttin’ the cane or the tawse.
“Whiles when I’m across at my guid-dochter’s, I hear her wee laddie, Alick, greetin’ ower his coonts, and fear’t the maister’ll cane him because they’re no’ richt.
“‘If a cistern wi’ an inlet pipe twa-and-a-half inches in diameter lets in seventy-nine gallons eleeven quarts and seeven pints in twenty-fower and a half’oors, and an ootlet pipe o’ three-quarters o’ an inch diameter discharge forty-eight gallons nineteen quarts and five pints in the six’oors, whit o’clock will the cistern be empty if the ootlet pipe hiz a big leak in’t?’
“That’s the kind o’ staggerer puir wee Alick gets thrashed for if he canna answer’t richt. I couldna dae a coont like that mysel’, as shair’s death, if I was pyed for’t, unless I had the cistern aside me, and a len’ o’ the measures frae the Mull o’ Kintyre Vaults, and Jinnet wi’ a lump o’ chalk keepin’ tally. I’m no’ shair that it’s ony guid to thrash wee Alick for no’ can’ daein’ a coont o’ that kind, or for no’ bein’ able to spell ‘fuchsia,’ or for no’ mindin’ the exact heights o’ a’ the principal mountains in Asia and Sooth America.
“Hoo wad ye like it yoursel’? Ye canna put mathematics into a callan’s heid by thrashin’ him ower the fingers, if he’s no’ made wi’ the richt lump in his heid for mathematics; and if Alick’s schoolmaister gaes on thinkin’ he can, I’ll gae oot some day to his school and maybe get the jyle for’t.”