The Story of My Boyhood and Youth | Page 9

to knowledge, or in trying any of the
new-fangled psychological methods so much in vogue nowadays.
There was nothing said about making the seats easy or the lessons easy.
We were simply driven pointblank against our books like soldiers
against the enemy, and sternly ordered, "Up and at 'em. Commit your
lessons to memory!" If we failed in any part, however slight, we were
whipped; for the grand, simple, all-sufficing Scotch discovery had been

made that there was a close connection between the skin and the
memory, and that irritating the skin excited the memory to any required
degree.
Fighting was carried on still more vigorously in the high school than in
the common school. Whenever any one was challenged, either the
challenge was allowed or it was decided by a battle on the seashore,
where with stubborn enthusiasm we battered each other as if we had
not been sufficiently battered by the teacher. When we were so
fortunate as to finish a fight without getting a black eye, we usually
escaped a thrashing at home and another next morning at school, for
other traces of the fray could be easily washed off at a well on the
church brae, or concealed, or passed as results of playground accidents;
but a black eye could never be explained away from downright fighting.
A good double thrashing was the inevitable penalty, but all without
avail; fighting went on without the slightest abatement, like natural
storms; for no punishment less than death could quench the ancient
inherited belligerence burning in our pagan blood. Nor could we be
made to believe it was fair that father and teacher should thrash us so
industriously for our good, while begrudging us the pleasure of
thrashing each other for our good. All these various thrashings,
however, were admirably influential in developing not only memory
but fortitude as well. For if we did not endure our school punishments
and fighting pains without flinching and making faces, we were
mocked on the playground, and public opinion on a Scotch playground
was a powerful agent in controlling behavior; therefore we at length
managed to keep our features in smooth repose while enduring pain
that would try anybody but an American Indian. Far from feeling that
we were called on to endure too much pain, one of our playground
games was thrashing each other with whips about two feet long made
from the tough, wiry stems of a species of polygonum fastened together
in a stiff, firm braid. One of us handing two of these whips to a
companion to take his choice, we stood up close together and thrashed
each other on the legs until one succumbed to the intolerable pain and
thus lost the game. Nearly all of our playground games were
strenuous,--shin-battering shinny, wrestling, prisoners' base, and dogs
and hares,--all augmenting in no slight degree our lessons in fortitude.

Moreover, we regarded our punishments and pains of every sort as
training for war, since we were all going to be soldiers. Besides single
combats we sometimes assembled on Saturdays to meet the scholars of
another school, and very little was required for the growth of strained
relations, and war. The immediate cause might be nothing more than a
saucy stare. Perhaps the scholar stared at would insolently inquire,
"What are ye glowerin' at, Bob?" Bob would reply, "I'll look where I
hae a mind and hinder me if ye daur." "Weel, Bob," the outraged
stared-at scholar would reply, "I'll soon let ye see whether I daur or
no!" and give Bob a blow on the face. This opened the battle, and every
good scholar belonging to either school was drawn into it. After both
sides were sore and weary, a strong-lunged warrior would be heard
above the din of battle shouting, "I'll tell ye what we'll dae wi' ye. If
ye'll let us alane we'll let ye alane!" and the school war ended as most
wars between nations do; and some of them begin in much the same
way.
Notwithstanding the great number of harshly enforced rules, not very
good order was kept in school in my time. There were two schools
within a few rods of each other, one for mathematics, navigation, etc.,
the other, called the grammar school, that I attended. The masters lived
in a big freestone house within eight or ten yards of the schools, so that
they could easily step out for anything they wanted or send one of the
scholars. The moment our master disappeared, perhaps for a book or a
drink, every scholar left his seat and his lessons, jumped on top of the
benches and desks or crawled beneath them, tugging, rolling, wrestling,
accomplishing in a minute a depth of disorder and din unbelievable
save by a Scottish scholar. We even carried