At the mixed grammar school I attended in the 1960s both boys and girls were subject to the cane. We were caned over normal clothing, and this was never rearranged by lowering trousers or raising skirts. This rule was of no consequence for boys, we simply bent and got the cane across the seat of our trousers. For the girls, though, there was a problem, in that a girl wearing a full skirt would feel little, or far less, pain from being caned through it. Any girl due for a caning unless she was wearing trousers, which was permitted for sixth-form girls, in which case she was treated just like a boy would be was therefore always sent to change into gym kit. So if one came across a young lady walking along a corridor in T-shirt and shorts, that usually meant only one thing: she was on her way to the heads study and would soon be bending over to receive a sound caning across the tightened seat of those shorts. On more than one occasion I would follow the (rather miserable) girl and loiter outside the heads door waiting for the tell-tale sound of flexible rattan coming down across white cotton, usually accompanied by a few shrill yelps which got louder as the punishment proceeded. Then, when she emerged, there would be the exciting sight of a tearful girl trying hard to retain her dignity as she walked quickly but stiffly back to the changing rooms, holding or rubbing the seat of her shorts, as I imagined the reddened state of the backside beneath them.