King Henry VIII Grammar School

This extended edition - consider it to be a Bank Holiday Weekend Special - pretty much wrote itself. Spooky! In which Piggy and The Beak Go From Sidekicks to Psychics. Piggy knocks on The Beak's office door. The Beak: "Is anybody there?" Piggy: "It's me, Headmaster." The Beak: "Is anybody there?" Piggy: "For the love of -" He opens the door without invitation. Piggy: "Sorry to barge straight in, Headmaster. I did announce myself. It's just that I didn't think you could hear me above all this silence." The Beak: "Ah, Deputy. Good to see that you used your initiative, for once. I could not answer you directly, as I was otherwise engaged. I have constructed this Ouija Board for the purposes of contacting the afterlife. Something has not been right in here for a few weeks now. For example, when I begin work in the morning, I'm finding that objects have been moved from where I'm certain I left them the previous evening." Piggy: "You might suspect the cause for this as being 'poltergeist activity', Headmaster; but I fear that the smart money very much favours 'old age'." The Beak: "No, that's not it. I've also seen a ghostly figure on the school premises." Piggy: "Normally, I would concur with you, Headmaster, but Moaner Liddiard phoned in sick not half an hour ago." The Beak: "Really? What was wrong with him?" Piggy: "Upset stomach, causing sickness and the runs. What we used to call 'The Lavhopper's Quandary'. That is, do I rush towards it head down - or bottom down?" The Beak: "What do you suspect to be the cause of his illness?" Piggy: "Two possibilities. One, because he's scheduled to take a double with Lower 5D today; or alternatively, because he insisted, yesterday, upon having a second helping of canteen Splodge." The Beak: "A second helping? The man just doesn't learn, does he?" Piggy: "Why would he? He's a teacher, Headmaster." The Beak: "What is starting to concern me now, Deputy, is that I detected an eerie chill in here about fifteen minutes ago. As if some 'thing', some apparition, had joined me. When you last spoke to him, how did Moaner sound?" Piggy: "Babbling. Incoherent. His usual self. My God! Surely you don't think he has -?" The Beak (now extremely alarmed): "What was the last thing he said?" Piggy: "Au revoir, mon cher." The Beak: "And that didn't strike you as very strange?" Piggy: "We are talking about Moaner, Headmaster. He's a Francophile. What can possibly be stranger than that?" The Beak: "And now he could be in Purgatory. In Limbo. Stuck between Heaven and Hell." Piggy: "But he has spent almost his entire life in schools. Hasn't he already experienced enough suffering?" The Beak: "The Lord works in mysterious ways, Deputy." Piggy: "Then the omens aren't looking too good for you, Headmaster; what with you being at the top of the pecking order here." The Beak: "This is no time for yet more of your petty rancour concerning that issue, Deputy. Moaner may, right now, be trying to communicate with the living. Here, place your forefinger opposite mine, upon this upturned glass tumbler." Piggy: "As you wish, Headmaster. Hold on a second! Isn't this the one that you confiscated from me, along with a dozen bottles of my 'Famous Grouse'?" The Beak: "Whose label will soon bear your image, if you keep this up. Enough of your grumbling and concentrate." Piggy: "But -" The Beak: "Look! The glass is moving!" Piggy: "You're pushing it, Headmaster." The Beak: "No, I'm not." Piggy: "Yes, you are. This glass is confiscated property and not for your personal use." The Beak: "Later, Deputy. The spirit is sending us a message!" Piggy: "It always does. It's crying out "Drink me! Drink me!" I want my Scotch back - right this minute." The Beak: "Will you forget your pangs for just a moment, for pity's sake? Moaner wants to speak to me, urgently." Piggy: "At last, his much repeated request finally rises from the very bottom of your 'To Do' list." The Beak: "Oh, now look what has happened. The glass remains motionless. He has left us." Piggy: "What did you get?" The Beak: "An 'A.' An 'S'. And another 'S'. ASS. What does it mean?" Piggy: "That you only got the first part of the message - and missed the whole?" The Beak: "Say that to me again, Deputy. And choose your words very carefully." Piggy: "Simmer down, Headmaster. It wasn't Moaner. He is still alive." The Beak: "Why do you say that?" Piggy: "Because he's a Francophile. He would have spelt out B-A-U-D-E-T." The End Footnote: Obviously, Francophilia is no longer considered somewhat strange, as it possibly was back in the Sixties, amongst a segment of the population. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that it is now de rigueur and congratulate Moaner on being so avant-garde.

Wonderful! Francis John Liddiard, avant-garde!

Hi Midland Red, I'm pleased you enjoyed it. Hope it contained the requisite amount of silliness! I'm now imagining Piggy and The Beak discussing the 1969 moon landing. I envisage Piggy saying something like: "Buzz. I mean, Headmaster, what kind of name is that, for heaven's sake? If you ask me, NASA must have been crazy to have given such huge responsibility to a man who clearly spent his entire school life progressing no further than the B stream." Okay. It's not going to make the final cut!

Excellent stuff, Inkers. I love the grudging resentment of Piggy and the aloof distance of Herbie, perfectly illustrated. Keep 'em coming.......

Thanks MisterD-Di. There were some remarks and ripostes in there that I really enjoyed thinking up and they managed to reproduce excessive schoolboy sniggering in me! So much so that I was half expecting to hear a 'You, boy! Yes, I'm pointing at you. Wipe that stupid grin off your face." My favourite was the one about The Beak only getting the first part of the message and missing the whole. It arrived virtually instantaneously in my mind. I considered it to be a gift from the Roman goddess Angerona, as a sort of apology to me for having to study Latin. I would now be feeling very proud of myself, except that I learnt from reading 'The Coventrian' magazine - in which the school only highlighted its failings and very rarely its successes - that humility is a good quality to possess, so I'll merely note on my self-report 'Could Do Better'.

Not "could do better" but "must do more"

From today's Telegraph: EDWARDS Allen Died at home on May 4th 2015, aged 92 years. Husband of Mary (who died in 2009), Father of John, Julia, Nicholas and Mary Ann. Committal Service in Charter Chapel Canley Crematorium, on Wednesday 13th May, at 10am, followed by Thanksgiving Service in Coventry Cathedral at 12:30pm. Reception at home afterwards. Donations for Christian Aid c/o A J Lloyd Funeral Directors, 38 Wallace Road, Coventry, CV6 2LX. Tel: 024 7633 1900.

As in the maths teacher?

Yes, the same

While "Tramp" was roundly criticised (by some) for bringing the "new maths" to the school, he was a great and positive influence on my life and love of maths. I still remember the day that he introduced matrix algebra to the class. Matrix algebra is quite a conceptual leap over the usual arithmetic, geometry and even "normal" algebra, but the example he showed - of how many possible routes are there from each point in a network to every other point - became a core part of my work across a whole range of different subject matter areas. His enthusiasm for his subject was infectious, and his manic delivery could be endearing (not always, if you couldn't scribble fast enough to keep up!). Vale Tramp indeed!

His son Nick was in my year. For a period we used to go round his house (Just round the corner from the school) each dinner time. I remember listening to "I'm sorry I'll read that again." Drinking Elderflower champagne one lunch time, and falling asleep back when I got back to the school.

Just inside Belvedere Road, I seem to recall

Hi all The subject of education is huge, as are the implications. Knowledge is one thing. The ability to work something out is another. These days, as I age, I struggle to remember what I had for breakfast leave alone the countries of the former commonwealth or any other subject. I used to be able to recite the periodic table, now I cannot pronounce half of the elements or remember the atomic weights, covalent bonds or anything else. There was a man once, who asked for some sediment of element, but he could not remember what he said-he-meant or what the 'el-he-meant. He asked if it was elementary, but was told that it was sedimentary. I am glad of what I was taught at King Henry, as when I did not know something, I knew how & where to find out. That is what kept me employed throughout. Post copied from topic Today! (General Non-Coventry Current Issues) on 12th May 2015 12:02 pm

Ah! Mrs Cramp. Ella. I was never taught by her, but I knew her very well as she and her husband, Harry, were members of Hearsall GC when I was She was Isabella, but always known as Ella - when we started in Mrs Gates' class, Philip, she was Miss Robson - she was almost 50 when they married in 1955, and she passed away in 1985

I got an honourable mention in an essay competition run by Cadbury's when I was in Miss Gates' class. A lad called Weitzel got a commendation. A box of chocolate came withe awards, these were our prizes. When I say a box of chocolate I mean a case of Cadbury's Dairy Milk. Alas we had to share it with the whole class, though we did get a slightly larger share. From Mrs Gates class I progressed to 1A and Miss Hammersley, she was followed by Mrs Collins, and then Mr Kennedy.