The constant inquiry of a backward boy in an ‘A’ form or an average boy in a ‘B’ form is ‘What's the good of Latin ?’ I even know of an overwrought master who rapped out: ‘It keeps me off the dole. Get on with your work!’ Colleagues, mostly those who never took it themselves at school, humorously hint at its uselessness as compared with the inestimable blessings of their own subject. Parents, too, though a few have a vague notion about a little Latin being part of the make-up of a gentleman, are often a hindrance. There is the authentic case at my old school where an irate mother challenged the headmaster with the query, ‘Why should my Tom learn Latin? To-day I asked him the Latin for tea-pot and he could not tell me.’