Written by

Francis

Our school was built at the butt of a mountain. By some mistake it was built back to front.. I mean, the side with four windows on it faced north and the side with two windows faced south and I often thought if they had turned it round we’d have more sun and more light and more heat. Anyway there it was and we had to put up with it.

We had no sweeping brush but swept the floor with besoms. The master would send some boys up the mountain now and then to gather heather for the besoms and before sweeping we’d sprinkle the floor with water to keep down some of the dust. If the inspector came while the boys were up the mountain the master would wave his handkerchief though he couldn’t see the boys but they could see him and would come down. Water came from the river which was quite near. We had a can. On hot days we drank from the lid of the can.

Electicity was nowhere in the area but a teacher brought a gramaphone to school one dsay and played John McCormack for us. But it must have worked on batteries.

I was hopeless in babies, couldn’t do anything right, like platting or putting my bricks in their box the right way. One day our teacher had sweets and passed them round but left me out, I must have been worse than usual. Then she went out to the boys’ school and while she was out the principal teacher of the girls’ school, her mother, got up, came down to where I was and handed me a sweet. That little event is the only nice thing I remember of those years. That lady got cancer and died. May she rest in peace. I liked her.

For years the custom was for each pupil to bring two sods of turf to school each day or for a grown-up in the family to bring a cartload. For the year. Many did that, including my father. But it seemed that the two sods brought in more turf than the cartload so the master said that was to be the way for everyone.

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