THE UNDYING FIRE
"There's been a great change in him in the last two years," said Mr. Farr. "He let the war worry him for one thing."
"No good doing that," said Mr. Dad.
"And even before the war," Sir Eliphaz began.
"Even before the war," said Mr. Farr, in a pause.
"There was a change," said Sir Eliphaz. "He had been bitten by educational theories."
"No business for a headmaster," said Mr. Farr.
"Our intention had always been a great scientific and technical school," said Sir Eliphaz. "He introduced Logic into the teaching of plain English—against my opinion. He encouraged some of the boys to read philosophy."
"All he could," said Mr. Farr.
"I never held with his fad for teaching history," said Mr. Dad. "He was history mad. It got worse and worse. What's history after all? At the best, it's over and done with. . . . But he wouldn't argue upon it—not reasonably. He was—overbearing. He had a way of looking at you. . . . It was never our intention to make Woldingstanton into a school of history."
"And now, Mr. Farr," said Sir Eliphaz, "what are the particulars of the fire?"
"It isn't for me to criticise," said Mr. Farr.
"What I say," said Mr. Dad, projecting his muzzle with an appearance of great determination, "is, fix responsibility. Fix responsibility. Here is a door locked that common sense dictated should be open. Who was responsible?"
"No one in School House seems to have been
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