It did not take Simon Parry or Leonard Brown long to get into trouble. Knowledge of this started when the prefect, Milner came to them. They were chatting with Trevor Pratt and his fourth form brother.
Milner said, "Pratt, report to the headmaster after your school lunch."
Victor said, "What for?"
Milner replied, "I didn't notice you. Your family goes in for cycling without caps. It's your brother I was talking to."
He walked away.
Trevor said, "It's the whack, isn't it?"
Victor replied, "It's bound to be, young un. Don't forget what I've told you. The honour of the Pratts is in your hands now."
"I remember. Don't shout. Don't let go. If you can't help tears, don't blub and don't wipe your eyes till you get out, so that he can't see that you're upset."
"That's right. Good luck."
Trevor said, "I think I'm the first in our year."
Simon replied, "You aren't. I heard that White got three for not doing his homework and he squawked like mad. He was blubbing something dreadful when he came out. At least you won't let yourself down or us like he did."
Victor said, "Do you want these two to see your marks?"
"Yes, please."
"OK. I'll be with them and keep watch for you when you come out."
"Thanks."
Whether it was the excitement of Trevor's coming discomfort or for some other reason, they could not tell but Simon and Leonard both found themselves in trouble before dinner. Leonard was first. It was a science lesson and they were doing practical work. Leonard noticed that Simon was not looking and took his chance. He took a piece of paper, chewed it and put it on the end of his ruler. He bent the ruler back and allowed it to spring forward. The paper was propelled powerfully forward but it missed its target and hit Mr Ponting, the science master.
He knew who had done it.
"Come here, Brown."
Leonard went forward.
"I take it that you do not want to visit the headmaster's study?"
"No, sir."
"Another trick like that and you will. We'll have a pale imitation of what will happen if you go there. Bend over."
Leonard was the first to suffer this fate in Mr Ponting's lesson. He bent forward, touching his toes.
"Not like that. We need you to stay in place until I've finished. Bend over, body at right angles to your legs and hold your knees."
Leonard went into the required position. The Science master picked up a metre rule and held it part way along its length. He took it back and smashed it across Leonard's rump, landing flat.
Leonard jumped and waited for the next. His form watched in silence.
It fell a second time and then a third.
"Will that remind you not to be an idiot, Brown?"
"Yes, sir."
"Very well. Get up and see that it does."
Leonard stood up and rubbed his rump.
Mr Ponting said, "Well done, Brown. I know that's not like the headmaster's cane but some third formers start blubbing after it. You earned it but then you took it like a man."
Mr Ponting was not to know this but that comment had made Leonard his fan.
Next period was French. Undeterred by Leonard's lesson in science, Simon did precisely the same thing in this lesson.
Mr Creamer said, "Come here, Parry."
He went out.
"Your last two exercises have demonstrated the need for a considerably enhanced level of concentration on your part. Instead, you indulge in disgusting tricks. It seems that you need a lesson."
He opened his brief case and took out a solid, flexible piece of leather, split into two at the end.
"Are you right handed?"
"Yes, sir."
"Hold your left hand out. Arm straight and hand flat. We use that hand because we don't want to give you a further excuse for your execrable hand writing."
Simon held his hand out. He watched the master raise the tawse and then saw it descend at tremendous speed and crash across his waiting hand. His hand was knocked down. Rightly assuming that there was more to come, he forced it back again although every instinct was telling him to withdraw his hand. He looked at the master's face as the tawse was raised a second time. There was pleasure oozing from the man's lips which he was licking.
The tawse crashed down a second time. Again, Simon forced his hand back into place for the inevitable third stroke. To his relief, that was followed by the French master saying, "Get to your seat, Parry."
Simon obeyed, holding his damaged hand under his armpit to try to bring a little relief.
"Not such a hero, now, Parry?"
Mr Ponting's support and positive action after using the ruler on Leonard had put him towards the top of most of the form's estimate. The French master's sarcasm had made an enemy of Simon and put him at the bottom of the league for most of the form.
By the time they had finished morning school and the friends had finished lunch, they knew that it was time for Trevor's denouement. Together they went along the corridor to the study. It was an internal route and so his friends could wait outside and hear the crack of the cane being driven into Trevor's shorts. He knocked the door and entered.
Standing in front of the headmaster's desk, he waited.
"Do you want to leave the school?"
"No, sir. Of course I don't."
"Are you proud of the school?"
"Yes, sir."
"In that case, why can't you show your pride by wearing your cap on the way to school instead of emulating you ne'er-do-well brother?"
Trevor simply hung his head, annoyed at this attack on his brother but not daring to argue.
"I'm waiting for an answer, boy."
"I don't know, sir."
"It is my painful duty to draw your attention to the fact that it is better to obey school rules. I'm not one of those headmasters who say that it hurts me more than it will hurt you. I have every intention that you are the one who will be hurt and, if you persist, then the penalties will increase. Do I make myself clear, Pratt?"
Trevor replied, "Yes, sir."
"Very well. I won't waste any more time on you. Select a chair and get ready."
Trevor knew what to do. He estimated the height of the backs of available chairs and took the one which fitted him. He moved it into the space in the centre of the study floor. He stood behind it and, briefed by his brother, he pulled his shirt tail up, bent forward, moved his blazer well out of the way and bent forward. He reached down and grasped the chair legs.
The headmaster looked at this eleven year old boy in shorts in front of him. He already had a junior cane ready. He ran his hand over Trevor's shorts and said, "Stand up, boy."
Surprised, Trevor got to his feet.
"What are you wearing under your shorts, Pratt?"
"Just my underpants, sir."
Raising his voice, the headmaster said, "Don't lie to me, boy. You've put extra clothing on."
Indignantly, Trevor replied, "I haven't sir. I would never do such a thing. I wouldn't even do it if I thought it was for something I hadn't done and this was a fair cop, sir. I did it, I was caught and I pay the price."
"I don't believe you. Lower your trousers, please."
Trevor turned his back to the headmaster, unfastened his trousers and lowered them, clearly displaying that there was nothing extra in them and them bending forward, raising his shirt and displaying his pants. It was plain to see that there was nothing, apart from him, inside those pants.
The headmaster was satisfied. "Very well. Get dressed and let's get your beating over."
As Trevor fastened his trousers, the headmaster said, "If you ever think of trying to pad yourself, I will catch you and I will beat you in your underpants."
Trevor risked a reply.
"I told you, sir. I'd never do it."
Eventually, he was bent over again. The boys outside had been joined by Trevor's brother. They quietly discussed the length of time it was taking and then they heard the first.
CRACKK!
Victor said, "Good. He hasn't squawked. The first is always a shock and can catch you by surprise. That's when you can be bounced into squawking."
Inside the study, that blow had indeed caught Trevor unawares. He knew that it was coming but he had no idea of the intensity of the surge of pain which it would produce. It seems to flow from the impact and flood his entire consciousness. It was with extreme difficulty that he held his teeth together and tightened his grip on the chair legs. Already, he was aware of the appearance of tears and he remembered advice earlier from his brother. You can't always stop tears happening, but you can hold them back and you can avoid blubbing. He forced himself to do exactly that.
Meanwhile, the headmaster had been expecting more of a reaction, just as he had produced with the last first former he had the pleasure of caning. There was still a chance. He took the cane right back again and drove it powerfully forward and into the waiting seat.
CRACKK!
To his frustration, he saw the boy jump and hold tight but he did not give way.
CRACKK!
A third stroke followed. Mr Booth knew that he could give him no more for this offence.
"Get up, Pratt. Put the chair away."
Trevor got to his feet and collected the chair. He was not even going to give the headmaster the satisfaction of seeing him rub the stripes. That could wait. He replaced the chair and went in front of the headmaster's desk.
"I hope that will be a lesson, Pratt?"
It sounded like a question and Trevor forced himself to say, "Yes, sir."
He turned the punishment book round and said, "Check that the entry is right and sign in the space provided.
Through his tears, Trevor read the entry, took out his pen and signed.
The headmaster said, "On your way."
"Yes, sir."
He turned round and went out. He closed the door and rubbed his trouser seat. Then he took out his handkerchief, wiped his eyes and blew his nose.
Trevor said, "What took so long?"
"He said that I'd got extra clothes on and I had to drop my bags to prove that I hadn't. I told him that I wouldn't even have done that if it was for something I hadn't done and that this whacking was fair. I'd been caught and that was that."
Victor said, "Well done, young un. You didn't squawk at all."
"I didn't even rub it until I was out. I wasn't going to let him know that he'd hurt me."
Soon, they were in the toilets. Victor was keeping watch at the door. Trevor was in a cubicle and dropped his shorts and pants, he bent forward and pulled his shirt up, exposing his stripes.
Simon ran his fingers over the weals and said, "Blimey! He's really hit you. That's terrible."
He looked towards the older boy and said, "Come and see what he's done."
Victor examined the damage and said, "You're really great, Trev. A lot of lads would have screamed out loud if they got it like that."
Trevor knew that he had not let his brother or the rest of the family down. He felt proud.