Rough Scan
AS A SCHOOL BOARD CANDIDATE
“BETTY, they
want me tae be ane o’ the Skule Brod.”
“O’ the what?”
“The Skule
Brod!
Them that hae the elections, and look after the skules!”
“An’ what dae
ye dae?”
“Oh, we a’ sit
roon a table, an’ crack awa’ aboot the topics o’ the day — an’ maybe
one gies a bit sang. Then ance
a month we coont a’ the lead pencils an’ the pens, an’ maybe tell the
maister tae order a gallon or twa mair o’ ink, an’ get in some o’ the
bairns tae recite—
A
wearer tae the ‘Shaws was bound,
And
cried, “Coachman, do not tarry,
An’
I’ll gie ye a threepenny bit
Me
on the road tae carry.
An’ sich like. But
the best o’t, Mr Pinkerton tells me, is when you get in the skule-maister
an’ try him wi’ coonts, tae see if he’s keeping up tae the mark. Being a new member, I’ll be vera vigilant,
an’ I’ve twa or three kittle questions tae ask him. There a wheen o’ thae skule-maisters vera big men noo-a-days because
they get sich fine pay, but I’ll tak’ the conceit oot o’ them! I’ll work them up! I’ll no be an ornamental member, I can tell ye!”
“But will ye
get ony pay, Jeems?” says Betty.
“Weel, no directly;
but indirectly a heep can be done.
For instance, I’ll keep my e’e on the coals, and some day I’ll
pick up a bit an’ cry oot, ‘Guid save us, what’s this? what d’ye pay
for the waggon o’ this?’ An’
then the books ‘ll be turned up. ‘Nine
an’ ninepence, Mr Kaye, taking a truck at a time.’
‘Nine an’ ninepence! Jist
gie me the next order, an’ I’ll gie ye better at nine an’
fivepence.
Certainly I’ll no’ hae much profit, gentlemen, but it’s a public
institution it’s for, an’ it’s aye turning the penny.’ So in that way a little can be done, ye see,
Betty. Some say that nae director
o’ a public institution. should be allowed to supply them wi’
onything. Sich nonsense! If there’s ony sma’ profit gaun, wha has sich a guid richt tae it
as the directors, wha work hard withoot pay; an’ if the public hae tae
pay a wee mair for it, weel, they’re quite able, an’, as they’re gey
an’ often ungrateful, they deserve tae loss a little.
But think o’ the honour, Betty!
A’ the rest is as dross compared wi’ the honour. I’ll hae a gold medal hinging on a big chain
roon my neck when I gang tae the kirk on Sawbath, an’ my portrait selling
in a’ the shop windows at a penny plain, tuppence coloured.”
“An’ are ye
sure ye’ll win in?”
“Oh, there’s
nae fear o’ that, I think. Ye
see, being an elder, I’ll rin wi’ the minister, an’ he’ll aye refer
tae me as his worthy freen an’ ruling elder, Mr Kaye, wha will see that
the bairns are weel grounded in the Shorter Catechism, as their faithers
were before them, an’ no’ hae their precious time trifled awa’ wi’ stories
aboot fairies an’ trash. I’ll hae tae issue an address in which I’ll
gie my views, which will be decidedly economical — that’s the only way
tae get votes noo-a-days, aye be for economy — not cheeseparing, ye
ken, but economy, retrenchment, an’ reform.
Of course, after ye win in, ye never fash yer thoom aboot hoo
much is spent till it’s getting near anither election time, an’ then
ye maun suddenly fin’ oot that there’s been ower mony ink bottles smashed,
an’ that the rulers micht be made o’ common wudd instead o’ that black
lignumvitee, or whatever it is, an’ tell them that nicht after nicht,
when ye ocht tae hae been in bed, ye were sitting poring ower the accounts
tae see where onything could be saved, an’ ye looked sae much tae the
ratepayers’ interests that even in your sleep ye wid be adding raws
o’ figures up, comparing one skule wi’ anither. I’ll mak’ an unco adae an’ issue bills wi’ the lion an’ the unicorn
on the tap, an’ a V.R. in the middle, ca’ing on a’ the voters tae plump
for Jeems Kaye, the independent ratepayers’ candidate, if they value
the proper upbringing o’ their bairns, in the highest possible efficiency
combined wi’ the maist economical rates.
“It’s coonted
vera honorable tae be a member o’ the Skule Brod, I can tell ye, Betty,
an’ when I get in ye’ll be a prood woman, an’ it’ll be a great day for
Stra’bungo when ane o’ her ain sons is elected tae sit wi’ the best
in the land. But I see the kettle’s biling, Betty, so ye
had better get oot the sugar an’ the laidles, an’ Skule Brod or no Skule
Brod we’ll mak’ oorsels comfortable.”