Arthur and Philip had arrived home mid afternoon. The boy was now in his new room putting away his spare casual clothes. His school wear had already been put into place by the housekeeper. Philip looked around his room. He had always had to share a dormitory at the orphanage, this was the first time he had had a room of his own. He looked at the sheet of A4 paper above his desk. As Sir (as he knew Arthur) had said there was a list of house rules. 3 of them he had had to recite in front of "Sir". Philip looked and read the rules. There was a rule which said no television before homework was done, another which gave instructions when clothes were to be taken downstairs for washing, times to be ready for breakfast, times schoolwork had to be shown to "sir" for inspection and so on. Philip was still very worried by the constant references sir had made about punishments. He felt he hadnt been very naughty or rude today and yet sir had told him normally he would have had 3 (Yes THREE!!) visits to the study. For forgetting to thank matron, for absent mindedly putting his feet on the car seat and for forgetting to look at sir when talking to him. He worried how sir would punish him if he was felt to have misbehaved.
At around 5.30 Arthur called Philip downstairs. Miss Brown, the housekeeper, had arrived. Boy and housekeeper were introduced. Arthur told the boy that Miss Brown was to be obeyed. If Miss Browns instructions were not carried out she did not have the authority to punish but she would inform Arthur of the misdemeanour and the punishment would be as severe as if it was Arthur who had been disobeyed. Arthur then announced it was time for dinner. Philip was led into the small dining room and told to sit at a place which had been laid for him. Dinner was cod, chips and peas which Miss Brown served before disappearing. Philip ate ravenously, he was not used to such large portions at the orphanage. Arthur noticed that the boys table manners were not good. A number of times he wiped his mouth with his hand, twice he picked up chips with his fingers. The next time the boy had wiped his hand across his mouth Arthur decided it was time to react. "USE THE NAPKIN PHILIP" he bellowed. "I do not want to see you wipe your mouth with your hand again. IS THAT CLEAR?"
"Yes sir, sorry sir" came the timid reply.
Arthur continued. "Philip, you have only been here a few hours. You are lucky I have decided to be lenient with you. You have been rude to matron, misbehaved in my car, been rude when talking to me and now you eat like an animal. Take it from me boy this is your very last warning. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"
"Yes sir, Im sorry" was all Philip had said. He had so much to remember and so little time to remember it in.
The rest of the main course was finished without incident. Miss Brown came in, collected the empty plates, and then brought in the dessert, ice cream. Philip couldnt believe his luck. He loved ice cream. But at the orphanage it had been a luxury reserved only for Christmas and birthdays. He gleefully scooped the ice cream into his mouth. Every last little drop of it was eagerly devoured. He even remembered to wipe his mouth with the napkin as Arthur had told him. Miss Brown came back into the dining room and removed the bowls. "Come with me Philip, and help me wash up" she instructed, and the small lad followed her to the kitchen. Arthur retired too his study to watch a programme on television.
In the kitchen Miss Brown washed the crockery and cutlery and instructed Philip to dry it. After he had dried she inspected his efforts and was not satisfied. "Philip, this plate is still wet and these forks have not been dried properly either. Do you want me to tell Sir you have not dome your chores properly?. Answer me boy".
"Sorry Miss, Ill dry them again. Please dont tell Sir" was the response.
"Very well" Miss Brown had continued "but in future if I tell you to dry I shall expect you to dry. If you do not it will be a trip to Sirs study. Do you understand?"
"Yes Miss, sorry miss".
His drying duties completed Philip was told he could have the rest of the evening to himself. He asked Miss Brown if he could go out and play. It was Spring and around 7 p. m. He was told he could go out but he was to be back by 8, when it would start to get dark. Philip eagerly rushed out of the back of the house into the park. The front led out into the road but the back led into the private estate where Arthur worked. Although it was a private estate local children were allowed to come into the woods to play and Philip soon came across a group of lads, all around 10 years old, playing by the little stream which ran nearby. The other children had called across to the newcomer, they were regular visitors to the park, to come and join them. Philip had approached them and, like kids do, had started a conversation.. Before long they had started playing hide and seek. Philip was so happy. This was much better than the orphanage.
He was happy. At least until he heard the shrill tones of Miss Brown calling. "PHILIP. PHIIILLLIIIPPP". He said goodbye to his new friendsMiss and ran to where the noise was coming from. He ran to her. "Yes Miss" he asked innocently.
"I told you to be home by 8" Philip she scolded. "It is now 10 minutes past eight. Come with me". With that she grasped his arm and led him back towards the house. About 5 minutes later they entered the house. Philip was told to remove his gym slippers on entry. He was then marched to the door of the dreaded study. Miss Brown knocked on the door and Arthurs voice was heard to tell her to enter. She told Philip to stay at the door while she went in. After a short while, although it seemed an age to the 7 year old boy, Miss Brown reappeared, told him to enter the study, and closed the door behind him as she left. Her duties were finished for the day and she would now go home. Philip could only remember Sirs words about the study being a room he would not want to visit.
Arthur was behind his desk scowling at the boy. Philip stood nervously facing Arthur. "You were told to be home by 8. Miss Brown told me she had to fetch you as you were late. What have you to say for yourself?"
"Sorry Sir I forgot the time" was all Philip could utter.
"This is one misbehaviour too often" said Arthur. "I have decided I shall have to teach you a lesson. If you are told to be home by 8, it means 8 and not 15 minutes past, or even later if Miss Brown hadnt fetched you". Arthur rose from his chair and strode to the cupboard at the side of the room. He stared inside and selected the rattan cane, one of the implements which hung inside. He removed it from its hook. He turned to face Philip holding the fearful looking instrument. He then strode to one of the pair of wooden hard backed chairs which were situated in front of his desk. He placed it centrally in the study. He glared at Philip. "Take off your shorts" he ordered "and bend over that chair".
Philip was too scared to protest. He removed his tiny brief blue shorts revealing an even tinier pair of light blue underpants. He stood behind the chair, tried to lean forward over the back and realised he was too short to do so. Arthur, also realising the boy was too short to obey put the chair back where it had previously stood and ordered Philip to "Bend over, legs straight, touch your toes". He moved behind the boy. Holding the cane in his right hand he inserted his left hand into the elastic of the boys underpants and pulled them down to knee level. "I will remind you Philip to do as you are told" he said. "You will get 6 of the best. Count each stroke by saying One Sir, Two Sir and so on. Do not try to cover your bottom or to move. If you do the stroke will not count and I will add two more. If you count badly or forget to count I will do the same. Is that clear?"
Philip, bent over, nodded. But Arthur insisted he spoke. "Yes sir" the boy tearfully replied.
Arthur moved behind the lad and whipped the first stroke across Philips exposed rump. "OWWWWW, AAAHHHH, PLEEZZZ SIR, AAAAH" was all the child had said before remembering "One Sir", which was said through the tears. The second stroke fell. "AAAAAHHHHH, OOOWWWWW, PLEEEZZZZ, TWO SIR" Arthur coldly stepped back.
"Philip you will call the number of the stroke before making your ridiculous noise, Do you understand? If you fail to do so the stroke will not count. Is that clear?"
"Y-Y-Yess, S-Sir" through tears.
Arthur resumed his position and administered the third. "OWWWW, THREE SIR, S-S-Sorry Sir" Another crack "F_F_FOUR SIR, OWWWWWW" Another swish, another crack and Philips hand instinctively shot to his bottom before he called out "F_F_FIVE S-S-SIR".
"That one doesnt count Philip" Arthur announced coldly "As you moved your hand across your bottom. The next stroke is still number 5."
The next swish, the next crack. "F F FIVE S S S IR"
Finally six , which was in fact 7 had been delivered. Arthur replaced the cane in its cupboard before telling Philip to stand and pull up his underpants. "Let that be a lesson to you, young man" he said before sending his new son off to his room, shorts in hand, to reflect on his misbehaviour.