2/33 Such are the born schoolmasters, and schoolmasters, like poets, _nascuntur non fiunt_. What I was born passes my ingenuity to fathom. Certainly not a schoolmaster--and my many years of apprenticeship did not make me one. They only turned me into an automaton, feared by myself, bantered by my colleagues, and sometimes good-humouredly tolerated by the boys. The post used to arrive just before first school. |