"Don't you go corrupting your mind with pedagogueries. They're the
ruin of assistants. Put down drawing. Then there's shorthand--"
"Here, I say!" said Lewisham.
"There's shorthand, French, book-keeping, commercial geography, land
measuring--"
"But I can't teach any of those things!"
"Look here," said Blendershin, and paused. "Has your wife or you a
private income?"
"No," said Lewisham.
"Well?"
A pause of further moral descent, and a whack against an obstacle.
"But they will find me out," said Lewisham.
Blendershin smiled. "It's not so much ability as willingness to teach,
you know. And _they_ won't find you out. The sort of schoolmaster we
deal with can't find anything out. He can't teach any of these things
himself--and consequently he doesn't believe they _can_ be taught.
Talk to him of pedagogics and he talks of practical experience. But he
puts 'em on his prospectus, you know, and he wants 'em on his
time-table. Some of these subjects--There's commercial geography, for
instance. What _is_ commercial geography?"
"Barilla," said the assistant, biting the end of his pen, and added
pensively, "_and_ blethers."
"Fad," said Blendershin, "Just fad. Newspapers talk rot about
commercial education, Duke of Devonshire catches on and talks
ditto--pretends he thought it himself--much _he_ cares--parents get
hold of it--schoolmasters obliged to put something down, consequently
assistants must.
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