Recollections of an Old (but young at heart) Oswestrian, circa 1952 - EPISODE 3, FIRST DAY AT SCHOOL
'Ma Walton', Headmistress of the Prep Department ruled her domain like a personal fiefdom. A rather plump and homely looking woman, she stood on the threshold of the long, single-storey school building like a Colossus as she welcomed her new charges.
Once inside, we 'newbugs' were gradually introduced to our classmates who we would progressively move through to Upper School with once our stint under the auspices of Ma Walton, and her younger sister Miss Dawes, came to an end.
Of these boys, three immediately spring to mind. They were day boys; George Roberts-Jones, Barrie Whitmore and 'Ma's' son, who for some unknown reason was always called 'Cobber' (maybe a reader can enlighten us on this?).
George and Barrie were best friends and had started school together aged 8. At mid-morning break we were allowed out onto the Quadrangle and I struck up a conversation with George, who always had a smile on his face.
"What's going on George?" I asked. The Quad was awash with groups of older boys, giggling excitedly. "Oh, they're all girl mad and just waiting for the 'buns' dame. It happens every day", he replied with a smile and a knowing look.
In a matter of minutes, surely enough, a rather pretty girl wandered up from the main road, past the Last Day writing on the wall, and onto the Quad. She headed towards the tuck shop, which was situated just to the left, at the end of the playground, and adjacent to the open-air Fives Court. In her hands was a large box of hot freshly baked buns, steaming in the chilly morning air (I bet they're not as good as mums - a Master Baker - I mused to myself ).
Slowly, and inexorably, she ran the gauntlet of a hundred bright, shining eyes as the teenagers followed her progress until she disappeared round the corner of the Masters' common room. This was a daily ritual, and one eagerly awaited by the boys. The thought crossed my mind that old George had got it all wrong about the boys as they were obviously only interested in her buns!
It would be sometime later as I moved into my own teenage years that I realised the naivety of dismissing George's worldly-wise comments that day, and I would begin to understand what the fuss was about.
Once inside, we 'newbugs' were gradually introduced to our classmates who we would progressively move through to Upper School with once our stint under the auspices of Ma Walton, and her younger sister Miss Dawes, came to an end.
Of these boys, three immediately spring to mind. They were day boys; George Roberts-Jones, Barrie Whitmore and 'Ma's' son, who for some unknown reason was always called 'Cobber' (maybe a reader can enlighten us on this?).
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| (Left to right) David Pickup, Barrie Whitmore, George Roberts-Jones |
George and Barrie were best friends and had started school together aged 8. At mid-morning break we were allowed out onto the Quadrangle and I struck up a conversation with George, who always had a smile on his face.
"What's going on George?" I asked. The Quad was awash with groups of older boys, giggling excitedly. "Oh, they're all girl mad and just waiting for the 'buns' dame. It happens every day", he replied with a smile and a knowing look.
In a matter of minutes, surely enough, a rather pretty girl wandered up from the main road, past the Last Day writing on the wall, and onto the Quad. She headed towards the tuck shop, which was situated just to the left, at the end of the playground, and adjacent to the open-air Fives Court. In her hands was a large box of hot freshly baked buns, steaming in the chilly morning air (I bet they're not as good as mums - a Master Baker - I mused to myself ).
Slowly, and inexorably, she ran the gauntlet of a hundred bright, shining eyes as the teenagers followed her progress until she disappeared round the corner of the Masters' common room. This was a daily ritual, and one eagerly awaited by the boys. The thought crossed my mind that old George had got it all wrong about the boys as they were obviously only interested in her buns!
It would be sometime later as I moved into my own teenage years that I realised the naivety of dismissing George's worldly-wise comments that day, and I would begin to understand what the fuss was about.
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