felt I was when I urged them along reluctantly with book-work for which they had little sympathy.'
Mr Annett is a townsman by birth and breeding, so that it is ad the more remarkable that he has stumbled on this truth, after a relatively short time as a country-dweller; but there are hundreds of rural schoolteachers from Land's End to John o' Groats who will endorse his views, and who know that the education of the countryman is a matter which must be given immediate and intelligent thought. Land today in England is more precious than ever before. It is our heritage and in trust for future generations. It is only right that it should be tilled and cared for by people who are not only capable and trained for this work, but who also are happy and contented to live among the farms and fields which give them their livelihood and—even more—a deep inner satisfaction.
Rural education must be tackled realistically if the drift to the towns is to stop. In this way village life will come into its own again, not as a picturesque setting for week-end visitors to enjoy, when they come down, in some cases, to see how a most satisfactory way of income-tax evasion is getting on, but as a vital working unit.
The first rehearsal at the vicarage went splendidly. Mrs Partridge said that she felt we really ought to get used to going barefoot, so that we removed our shoes and stockings, with varying degrees of reluctance, and left them on the veranda while we hobbled painftully over the gravel to the comparative comfort of the lawn, where we sat down to discuss casting plans.
It was decided that twelve of our more comely members would constitute the invading Roman force, and that the rest would be Ancient Britons of both sexes. I watched Mrs Partridge running an appraising eye over the legs of the assembled company, rather as the local trainers do as they watch their race-horses on the gadolls above Fairacre.
Mrs Moffat, that brave volunteer to the Ancient Britons' ranks, was persuaded to be pack-leader, captain, or whatever the Roman equivalent might be for the one in charge, instead. She is tall and carries herself well, and her legs are impeccable. Mrs Partridge obviously feared that there might be an ugly rush for the other eleven places, for she spoke firmly to Mrs Pratt when she rose from her seat on the lawn.
'Now please, Mrs Pratt, I do so want you to be a rather influential Ancient Briton woman, with possibly a bundle of faggots, so will you forgo being a Roman?'
Mrs Pratt looked mildly surprised.
'I only got up because I was sitting on a thistle,' she said, in some bewilderment. Mrs Partridge said she had quite misunderstood her gesture, and were there any volunteers?
As usual in Fairacre, the word 'volunteers' struck temporary paralysis upon its hearers, and we ad sat, eyes glazed and limbs frozen, like so many flies in amber. It was quite apparent that far from being an ugly rush to the Roman standard, Fairacre W.I. had elected to be Ancient Britons to a woman.
At last Mrs Partridge broke the silence.
'Miss Read, would you be a Roman?'
I said that I should be delighted to be called to the colours at my age. This seemed to break the ice a little, and two young women who cycle over from Springbourne to our meetings, offered to join the ranks too. Gradually our twelve were collected, and if some of us were a trifle long in the tooth, at least we were reasonably athletic.
There had been an awkward moment when Mrs Pringle had boomed a grudging offer of martial assistance, but Mrs Partridge had turned temporarily deaf, and as Mrs Fowler from Tyler's Row spoke up at the same time, all was well.
'Now,' said Mrs Partridge brightly, 'if you Romans would sit over here near the rose-bed—but do mind your nylons—we shall know where we are. Perhaps we can work out how much cardboard we shall need for armour; but that must wait for another time.'
'Breastplates and backplates should be enough,' said one of the Springbourne
Mr Annett is a townsman by birth and breeding, so that it is ad the more remarkable that he has stumbled on this truth, after a relatively short time as a country-dweller; but there are hundreds of rural schoolteachers from Land's End to John o' Groats who will endorse his views, and who know that the education of the countryman is a matter which must be given immediate and intelligent thought. Land today in England is more precious than ever before. It is our heritage and in trust for future generations. It is only right that it should be tilled and cared for by people who are not only capable and trained for this work, but who also are happy and contented to live among the farms and fields which give them their livelihood and—even more—a deep inner satisfaction.
Rural education must be tackled realistically if the drift to the towns is to stop. In this way village life will come into its own again, not as a picturesque setting for week-end visitors to enjoy, when they come down, in some cases, to see how a most satisfactory way of income-tax evasion is getting on, but as a vital working unit.
The first rehearsal at the vicarage went splendidly. Mrs Partridge said that she felt we really ought to get used to going barefoot, so that we removed our shoes and stockings, with varying degrees of reluctance, and left them on the veranda while we hobbled painftully over the gravel to the comparative comfort of the lawn, where we sat down to discuss casting plans.
It was decided that twelve of our more comely members would constitute the invading Roman force, and that the rest would be Ancient Britons of both sexes. I watched Mrs Partridge running an appraising eye over the legs of the assembled company, rather as the local trainers do as they watch their race-horses on the gadolls above Fairacre.
Mrs Moffat, that brave volunteer to the Ancient Britons' ranks, was persuaded to be pack-leader, captain, or whatever the Roman equivalent might be for the one in charge, instead. She is tall and carries herself well, and her legs are impeccable. Mrs Partridge obviously feared that there might be an ugly rush for the other eleven places, for she spoke firmly to Mrs Pratt when she rose from her seat on the lawn.
'Now please, Mrs Pratt, I do so want you to be a rather influential Ancient Briton woman, with possibly a bundle of faggots, so will you forgo being a Roman?'
Mrs Pratt looked mildly surprised.
'I only got up because I was sitting on a thistle,' she said, in some bewilderment. Mrs Partridge said she had quite misunderstood her gesture, and were there any volunteers?
As usual in Fairacre, the word 'volunteers' struck temporary paralysis upon its hearers, and we ad sat, eyes glazed and limbs frozen, like so many flies in amber. It was quite apparent that far from being an ugly rush to the Roman standard, Fairacre W.I. had elected to be Ancient Britons to a woman.
At last Mrs Partridge broke the silence.
'Miss Read, would you be a Roman?'
I said that I should be delighted to be called to the colours at my age. This seemed to break the ice a little, and two young women who cycle over from Springbourne to our meetings, offered to join the ranks too. Gradually our twelve were collected, and if some of us were a trifle long in the tooth, at least we were reasonably athletic.
There had been an awkward moment when Mrs Pringle had boomed a grudging offer of martial assistance, but Mrs Partridge had turned temporarily deaf, and as Mrs Fowler from Tyler's Row spoke up at the same time, all was well.
'Now,' said Mrs Partridge brightly, 'if you Romans would sit over here near the rose-bed—but do mind your nylons—we shall know where we are. Perhaps we can work out how much cardboard we shall need for armour; but that must wait for another time.'
'Breastplates and backplates should be enough,' said one of the Springbourne
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