SHORT STORY: FAMILY LEGEND

A GOOD YOUNG COLT

In the late 60's as in every era, it was a fairly regular occurrence for most young pupils to strive for immortality by etching their names into their school desks. Maybe it would be a 'tag' today, . The local Deputy Principal decided there had been too much of this graffiti of late and embarked on a 'crack-down'. 

"Now, right, you young blokes, listen here; we've been telling you about writing on the desks lately and this is your last chance. Any more of this and it's six cuts! Do you get that? Six cuts! No more mucking around with you blokes, we've got an inspection coming up in the school soon and we want the desks and the classrooms to look spick and span. We don't want the school getting a reputation as a hang-out for young ruffians and hoodlums. No more mucking around, six cuts!" Do I make myself understood?"

Most of the school assembly were used to the Deputy's ranting and raving and many wore a slight smirk on their faces but they all knew just the same that he meant it. Get caught and it was 'six of the best'. 'No Mucking around'! In the late sixties and seventies, teachers were still able to administer corporal punishment in the form of hitting pupils' hands with a 'light cane'. I had been on the end of it a few times during my 'education' in primary school and to be caned was traditionally called 'getting the cuts'.

It all came to pass a couple of days later. The class was running out of puff in the lead up to the morning break ('recess')  and the last of the exercises were being completed. Out of the corner of his eye, the first year teacher suddenly caught sight of one of his students carving his name into the desk. He had progressed about half way through his name, when he looked up to make eye contact with the teacher standing next to him. A sheepish and very guilty look flooded his face.

"You'd better go down and explain to the Deputy what you've been doing." A sullen expression replaced the guilty version as the student stood up and sloped out the door. One minute later the bell rang and the rest of the class left the room for recess, a little quieter than usual as one of their mates had clearly fallen foul of the Deputy.

Another two minutes later the Deputy appeared at the door. "Now what's all this about this young feller writing on a desk?" he spluttered. The Deputy always spluttered.

"He maintains he didn't do it!' The hairs on the back of the young teacher's neck rose in anger. "Look here, look at this desk. He'd only got half way carving his name there when I caught him out!'

"Good enough for me, young feller! Thank you," and out he stormed.

Recess concluded some fifteen minutes later and the siren rang for the daily assembly out in the playground area. The Deputy took up his usual stance at the microphone on the dais and cajoled the stragglers to get into line.

"Right now," he started ... "about two days ago, I warned you blokes about writing on desks. Well, only today, one of our new members of staff, a vigilant young bloke, good colt,  happened to notice one of his students carving his name into a desk. Now I warned you all what would happen if you got caught doing this ... six cuts! That's right six cuts! Now I'm not going to mention any names here and embarrass the student. Get into my office S. I'll deal with you shortly! Start warming up your hands!"

"Good colt that new staff member. A good young colt!"

"Alright the rest of you, that will do for today. Keep your scribble off our desks or you'll be in there with your mate, now off to class and hurry up about it!"