[CW talk of alcoholism]

"It is. There are a few boys who are unruly to a fault, but boys will be boys." He nodded. It was true, boys liked to be unruly at times, he thought, remembering his younger days. "I keep hoping I don't run out of patience at times." He thought about how sweet brandy would be and longed for a drink. He took a puff of tobacco smoke in instead, tense.

"Aye ye gotta keep a firm hand on 'em," Ben reflected. "There's plenty there that haven't been raised right. You gotta draw clear lines, or they'll think they can do whatever they like." He stared out over the water. He had always been suspicious of teachers after the trouble they had had with some in the past. But Mr. Meijer seemed genuinely interested in the children's wellbeing. He turned back to the teacher. "And if it's ever our Bram that's misbehavin', ye tell me. I know 'e can be a handful, but he knows I don't accept 'im doin' wrong."

"I understand." He tapped ashes out into the sand and then returned to smoking the pipe, staring out at the water with a sigh. "I wish to be a good teacher, but I fear I am not enough for those children." He looked over to Ben.

"I have him separated from his friend, Ed, seating wise. I can't promise to keep them apart after class or during lunch, but I've moved the children around so they would be less disruptive." Not that it was working.

[[CW: internalized class discrimination]]

Ben scoffed and shook his head. "Your expectations are too high," he said. He leaned back and drew from his pipe, keeping the smoke in his lungs for a few second before blowing it out. He continued: "I appreciate ye keepin' Bram from bad influences, but really, keepin' them in some kind of order and keepin' 'em from gettin' worse is the best ye can do, and in feedin' them yer doin' more for them than most teachers would. These bairns aren't there to learn. They are there because the Magistrates will fine us if we keep 'em home." As Ben had found out the hard way in the past. "But they're not like yer fine boys in yer fancy schools. They're not made for learnin', they're made for workin'. Occassionally ye'll find one that's clever. Our Alice was. Could have been a teacher, that's what 'er teacher said. But the rest of 'em, if ye can teach 'em their letters, ye're a good teacher alright."

He didn't know why, but he had needed to hear what Ben said. He gave a half-smile and said, "I try anyway." He peered at the older man and sighed, "Perhaps I worry too much, but I hate seeing children in need. I needed to hear that, thank you."

Ben nodded at Uriel, and had the man been of his own kind, he would have reached out and clapped his shoulder. But that might be perceived as not very deferential. "From what I've heard, t' parents hold ye in high esteem. Ye're feeding the bairns. And ye're not beatin' the stupid ones for bein' stupid." He had also heard that Mr. Meijer's class was a jungle, but he decided not to mention that.