ed upon
the memory of the most dull student.

A candidate begins in the fifth class. He is supplied with an official
pocket-book and a thin paper-covered book called "Duty Hints" wherein is
set forth, carefully indexed, a mass of concise information as to laws,
regulations, addresses of hospitals, and so on. Should he ever, when a
fully-fledged constable, be in a difficulty he has but to refer to his
"Duty Hints" to have his course made clear. It is, in fact, a _precis_
of the "Instruction Book," which deals with everything a police officer
should know and be.

He is told the difference between a beat and a fixed point. He is shown
how to make a report, and warned of the perils of making erasures or
tearing leaves from his pocket-book. The unobtrusive marks to be placed
on windows, doors, walls, shutters, and padlocks so that he shall know
if they have been disturbed are made clear to him. He is told what to do
should there be a sudden death in the street, should the roadway
subside, should a street collision occur, should a gas explosion occur,
should he be assaulted. He is initiated into the mysteries of the Dogs
Act, the Highways Act, the Vagrancy Act, the Aliens Act, the Lottery
Act, the Licensing Act, the Larceny Act, the Motor-Car Acts, the
Locomotive Acts, the Children's Act, and others.

Nor is he merely crammed with these things. He has to know them, to be
able to make a plain report, to answer an unexpected question.

As he passes upwards to the first class his instructor reports as to his
progress and prospects of becoming an efficient police officer. It is a
tedious process, this hammering raw countrymen--for most of the
candidates are from the country--into serviceable policemen. Yet it is
worth it.

Very craftily a candidate is instilled with the self-reliance and
confidence so necessary in a police officer. He is not bullied or
badgered. The staff patiently discriminate between nervousness and
stupidity. The ordeal of giving evidence for the first time, for
instance, is feared by a raw countryman, and for that reason a
practical object-lesson is given to the senior classes at Peel House
once a week.

Three of the instructors play the part of shopkeeper, thief, and
constable. Little strain is put on the imagination of the men. They see
everything for themselves, from the actual robbery to the procedure at
police station and police court. In quiet, level tones Mr. Gooding gives
the reason for every