About midday there was a recess, and the children ate their “pieces,” which they had brought from home, and spent a little time outside at play, while the schoolmaster took his simple meal.  The favorite game was a kind of shinty.  It was played by the boys with a ball, driven with sticks, each with “a big lump o’ wood at the end o’t.”

The more advanced pupils learned grammar.

“I niver learned nae graymer masel’,” said Willy.  “I couldna’ onderstan’ a word o’t.  I thocht it a gey-like leetany to hear the graymer.  ‘I mak’, thou mak’s, he mak’s’—­seemed to me nae sense, ye ken!”

There were no holidays as a regular thing.  School went on in the season every week-day.  But there was one great day in the year, which was looked forward to by both parents and children; it was that set apart for what we more delicately reared folk in these days would regard as cruel sport—­that of cock-fighting!  Sometimes as many as thirty of the lads would each bring his bird under his arm, and these in turn would be placed in the ring.  Neighbors from far and near would come to the school for that day.

“The best fichter,” said Willy, “wes callit the King; the second best, the Queen; the third, the Knave.  Them as wouldna’ ficht we callit ‘fougie.’  Eh, what a day that wes!”

But it must not be thought that the duties of the schoolmaster were confined to his school.  He was a personage in the community when he had assumed his position as pedagogue.  Since he was instructor of youth, he was regarded as capable of assisting the literary pursuits of their parents and elders.

“We callit the schoolmaster ‘Dominie Dick,’” explained Willy.  “He wes a big mon i’ the distric’, ye ken, sir!  He’d oft write letters for the fowk roond aboot!”

I gathered from the same authority that the “Dominie,” for the time being, was also the reliable reader of the public newspaper.  When the weekly paper had arrived, all the men who were interested in what the world was doing would gather at some specified house to listen to the schoolmaster as he read aloud choice extracts.  In his absence the best reader of the party was requested to undertake the duty.

“My faither,” said Willy, “wes aye conseedered the best aifter the schulemaister.  If he miscallit a word the dictionar’ wes allas consultit; it wes on the table ready.”

This recollection called up another in commendation of his father’s reading powers.

“The maister o’ the Strathdalgie Schule wes a Protestant, ye ken, but he wouldna’ hae ony person read till him but my faither.  He had to gae till the schulemaister’s bedside when he wes dyin’; for the puir mon wouldna’ hae the menister, as he likit a’ the words clear.”