The comedian Harry Enfield was once asked in jest "Were you beaten at Eaton?" to which he immediately replied "No, but I had an escape at Harrow, that was narrow." I was very keen to avoid corporal punishment after my experience in junior school. I dodged the stick narrowly a few times. Here are some of my near misses.


A few days after I started secondary school a boy, who had attended my junior school, told me that the headmaster wanted to speak to me. I was a bit shocked. I went along to see the head. The head told me that some of the boys (who had all attended my junior school) said that I had said something or other (I forget what it actually was.) This was nonsense and I said that the accusation was false. The head asked me why someone would falsely accuse me of this (stupid bloody question unless you want to tap the pants of a little boy.) Luckily I have never had any problem figuring out other people's motivation. This is my special gift. I said that the other boys were jealous that I had passed into the A stream whilst they had been relegated to the second, and subsequent, divisions. I had no other suggestion that this might be the case until this incident. The head chucked and I was dismissed. He had other fish, and older bottoms, to fry. I think it would have been difficult to justify caning a 12 year old boy on this occasion.

I can understand why my little friends were upset. At that time boys outside of the a stream didn't get much of an education.

At the age of fourteen I was walking around at break time when I was suddenly jarred by the impact of a football hitting my body. In shock I cried out. I may have said "Oh ****!" or something like that. The boy who had kicked the football (get this!) advanced on me and chastised me for the use of a swear word. He informed me that he was going to see the head master to report my foul language. Cheeky sod!

I think this boy must have been on the wrong end of the stick in the recent past. I thought he was seeking the cathartic experience of playing "it" with a punishment he had received.

Some time later the boy came back into the playground and found me. He gave me the news that the head master wanted to speak to me. I had to go into the school from the play ground to reach the head's office. I started thinking as I started walking into the school.

The head's office is in the vestibule at the front entrance of the school. Just before you enter the vestibule from the school you pass a toilet. Presumably this is where boys pause to inspect their fresh stripes. I took a cabin and sat down to think. After a few minutes I heard some noise and looked up. Four hands, two on each side of the cubicle, were gripping the walls of my private sanctuary. I concluded that two younger boys (small hands) were slowly pulling themselves up to peer inside. Quick as a flash I made a fist and pounded all four paws. Screams arouse and the little freaks shouted that they would report me. I said "You will report what? That you were peering over the wall of the toilet to take a look at me?" The boys slunk off.

What was I missing here? Is there a general sport of young boys overlooking people in toilets? Was this a known spot for canees (I hope I have hit upon the collective noun for people who have been caned, and not an alternative spelling of a town on the French Riviera) to examine their corrugated bottoms? Is that what drew these mutants?

I returned to my meditation. Time had passed and perhaps that was the solution to my problem. I decided not to visit the head. He didn't have my name. The head was relying on the other boy, who didn't know me and who I had never spoken to before, spotting me before he forgot my face.

You will notice that I didn't even consider putting my faith in the head master's judgment. I had formed the impression that he was a sexual sadist looking for opportunities to indulge his passion.

When I exited the building, and entered the play ground, I was suddenly faced by my accuser. Oops! The boy asked me what had happened during my interview with the head. The blood thirsty scoundrel! I was inspired. I told him that I had spoken to the head and that he had "let me off" (the hook.) Tick tock, tick tock. I watched the boys face as he thought through the problem. He started off towards the school building. Tick tock, tick tock. He realised couldn't face the head to challenge the head's decision. If the boy visited the head, and asked if I had been to see him, this could be perceived as questioning the head's decision if the head thought the boy knew that I had gotten off scot free. Presumably, if he had recently been caned, he wouldn't want another dose of the same medicine. I don't think the boy would have been punished in such a situation. But the boy's natural paranoia would work on him. I saw realisation wash over the boy's face. He slunk away.

I never heard anything more about this incident.

We had to line up at the end of break time and await the call to file into the school by year and house. We were supposed to wait in silence. Several boys in front of me were talking. The teacher on duty noticed them and called them over for punishment which was a slippering from a juicy fat sports shoe obtained from a kinky volunteer in the audience. To my surprise the teacher on duty thought I was involved in this illicit conversation and called me forward. The other boys were slippered. When it came to my turn I told the teacher what an outrage it was that he had accused me and, further to that, that there was no way he was going to punish me. He was shaken. Unlike my peers I spoke like an adult, and with authority, at this time. The boys who had been punished before me, who were actually the boys who, in my first days at school, had tried to drop me into the fudge, called to me to take the punishment as "it didn't hurt." I am sure it was mild but I couldn't accept the humiliation.

The teacher told me to come to his room and speak to him at the next break. I assumed my place in the line without being punished.

Considering my past interactions with this teacher I decided that he was such a dithering old fool that he couldn't possibly remember our interview. I never turned up.

I never heard anything more about this incident.


I would be interested to hear about any of your "near run things."

Hi HookedOnCP. You certainly seem to have lead a charmed life at school! I think you were exceedingly fortunate in the last incident you recount. Except for one who only lasted one lesson I cannot think of a single teacher I encountered throughout my schooling who would have forgotten something like that!

I'm afraid that I was so well behaved that I didn't have much need for escapes narrow or otherwise, though I can recall one incident in the last year of junior school when I thought I was in trouble. A female classmate spoke to me when we weren't supposed to talk, and many teachers then punished on the basis of guilt by association. In the event I got off Scot free and the girl involved got punished far more severely than anyone would have expected, but there may have been other factors involved. The full story is here.

I do mean the 'full' story - that post dates from the time when I really did believe in setting the scene and covering all the angles. Not recommended for slow readers! Should anyone wade through it there is a link to one of Big John MOI's most iconic pictures in it which doesn't work. The picture concerned, currently upside down for reasons we won't go into is to be found here. And if you want to know what the picture has to do with the post you'll just have to bite the bullet and read the post!

American way ,

Re the image that was on the punishment book thread half an hour ago but has strangely currently disappeared..........a funny (?) little story to empathize with the girl punished for poor penmanship .It seemed more appropriate posted here, as in my case i deftly avoided getting in the book for this one.

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Penmanship....ouch! I was the world's most untidy and illegible writer,probably still am , a cross between a drunken spider and mucky pup I was once told! That came from my so called friend,Miss F, so if you wanted to insult me......! However things came to a head long before that , indeed in the fourth form .

I was top of A stream physics, but the then physics master was appalled at the state of my written work, let alone my 'practical book' which normally showed evidence of anything which could mark or stain used in last week's 'write up'. He started politely enough putting 'messy' or 'try to write neatly'. This degenerated after a few weeks to comments such as ' I suggest a new pen'. We still used fountain pen in those days.

Things then came to a head. One week my work was returned with the following comment. My diary records .' See Me. Completely Illegible If the quality of your writing does not improve, I will place you in detention' This was a clear ultimatum. But to me it was obviously completely and patently untrue , so even a worm will turn........I pointed out , very politely to the teacher concerned that his statement was a non sequitur. For whilst he said the work was 'completely illegible' , he had also given it an 'alpha' . If he could read it to give it an alpha , it logically followed it was anything but illegible. I reminded him that illegible has a precise meaning in the 'Oxford' dictionary............

I guess it was a good job for me there was a no cane list and I was on it !. He looked in turn astounded., flabbergasted and ashen.

Now I considered this a declaration of war. As he couldn't read my work there was no point in producing it......was there? So I didn't. We had two weekly effort sheets. I always got a good crop a of A and a few B++ ! all creditable).It was near Christmas He gave me a 'C' unsatisfactory effort. Cheeky monkey!and unseasonal as well....... Time to retaliate again! We had the end of term exam . I normally came top , this time I didn't bother came 29th . By now this was a Titanic struggle of wills. My form master , who was a nice old Mr. Chips' , tried to smooth things over-' you are normally such a sensible chap , can't we sort this out??? ' I pointed out that he had started this by maintaining my work was illegible when clearly his marks showed that it wasn't. ' An unfortunate choice of words, I grant you'............my reply was uncompromising ' If it isn't true he shouldn't have said it , and it isn't because he managed to read it and thought it excellent ( the official grade rubric for an 'alpha' grade) .

your normally polite and compliant fourth former had gone in one swift leap to Bart Simpson on steroids.

The problem was solved the next school week- the start of term two. A reorganization of teaching staff gave us a more amenable physics master...I went back to my usual position and effort grade, and all was right with the world...........


Good job I didn't go to that school AW.!!!! or come to that, I suspect, Doctor Dominum's ...and I know for a certainty it's a good job Miss F wasn't Deputy head then.....but as they say, timing can be everything.. !!