There was a considerable open space in the middle of the
town, with an arcade running round three sides of it, while the fourth
was completely taken up by the venerable Musical Bank of the city, a
building which had weathered the storms of more than five centuries. On
the outside of the wall, abutting on the market-place, were three wooden
_sedilia_, in which the Mayor and two coadjutors sate weekly on market-
days to give advice, redress grievances, and, if necessary (which it very
seldom was) to administer correction.
My father was much interested in watching the proceedings in a case which
he found on inquiry to be not infrequent. A man was complaining to the
Mayor that his daughter, a lovely child of eight years old, had none of
the faults common to children of her age, and, in fact, seemed absolutely
deficient in immoral sense. She never told lies, had never stolen so
much as a lollipop, never showed any recalcitrancy about saying her
prayers, and by her incessant obedience had filled her poor father and
mother with the gravest anxiety as regards her future well-being. He
feared it would be necessary to send her to a deformatory.
"I have generally found," said the Mayor, gravely but kindly, "that the
fault in these distressing cases lies rather with the parent than the
children.
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