My mother's report in 1930; her school recollections.
Lescudjack School Recollections of 1926-1936 Delete Raise Position Lower Position Edit
My mother’s recollections of Lescudjack School
In the year 1926, at the age of four years, I started to go to the Lescudjack Infants' School. Mrs. Birch was the headmistress there, and it was her habit to take the littlest ones on her lap, at her big desk and teach them how to read and write. How we loved it when it was our turn to be held. We wore pinafores over our frocks to prevent the chalk, crayon, plasticine, sand and water soiling them.
In due course of time [in 1930, the scan is of her second term report] I was transferred to what was affectionately called the Big School, —the girls' department of Lescudjack.
At that time a lot of old desks and forms were placed outside the seventh form room windows, and the older girls who considered it beneath them to play games would sit on these forms during recreation periods. Woe betide any younger girls who tried to sit on these forms. Eventually, the noise became unbearable to the Headmistress, who couldn't concentrate on her work, and the forms were removed.
For the younger ones playtime meant what it said. There were ring games like Down-in-the-Valley, — The Farmer's in his Den, —and the Big Ship. There were seasons for whips and tops, skipping and marbles, etc. During this time a new craze was introduced to us, that of spinning the yo-yo, and students of this art did not always practice it in the playground! Many yo-yos were confiscated and found their way into the teachers desk, just because she turned around from the blackboard too quickly!
Free milk at lunch time was introduced during my school-days, a third of a pint for each child. School meals were non-existent, girls who lived on farms in the district, brought pasties, etc., and heated them in a room upstairs. The swing and see-saw playground was built outside and more late remarks were entered on the register than ever before.
We were all very proud to belong to Lescudjack School, and more so when anything of a Sporting nature was to take place. There were plenty of shields and cups to display, and they got to be so many that a case was made to put them in, in the Hall. There was a great rivalry between us and the other schools in the district, especially with St. Mary's for swimming. On Empire Day all the schools would march to the St. Clare Cricket Ground to compete against one another in all sorts of races. A band would be playing, and at a certain point in the proceedings oranges were thrown into the crowd of children who surrounded a platform, on which the town and school dignitaries stood. Somehow or other fine weather always prevailed for this event. My sole entry in these yearly events was once when I entered for the three-legged race, and my partner fell.
The aforementioned rivalry did not confine itself to sport, as we had to share cookery lessons with St. Mary's girls at a room off Morrab Road. This led to my one and only appearance for a reprimand from Miss Ellis, the headmistress. Because a badly-aimed dishcloth, intended for a St. Mary's girl, caught the Cookery Mistress fair and square in the face, as she was entering the door of the room.
One teacher I will always remember with affection is Miss Cooke. We loved singing and dancing lessons with her. I recall that she had two very mischievous girls who sat together in the front of her class (where she could keep her eye on them). One day in final desperation, she decided to separate them, and put two rather well-behaved girls to sit with them. One of the good girls was myself. But the plan misfired because somehow I realized the other girl was having heaps more fun out of life than I was. So Miss Cooke had another problem on her hands. This incident changed my whole life, as no matter what has happened to me since, I have always tried to see the best (and sometimes the funniest) side of everything and everybody.
Transcribed - Raymond Forward
