The Prescotian Webzine

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Your chance to confess your Prescotian sins and seek absolution!
 
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  Dear Prescotian, my confession is, I WAS PERCY. That may not mean a lot to many of you, but it might mean something to Peter Barlow. About nine years ago, Peter began receiving mysterious messages from a man named Percy, who claimed to be speaking on behalf of the students. Percy would write some rather cheeky letters, complaining about various aspects of school life and demanding that action be taken. I took great care to embellish the letters with every kind of familiarity and liberty that I would never have gotten away with were it not for the pseudonym. The funniest part was that Peter began to suspect Andrew Peckham of being the culprit, Andrew being head of music at the time (perhaps still is, I do not know). Andrew knew it was me, and immediately ratted on me (the sneak) when he saw he was the main suspect. Good on Peter! He refused to believe that a sensible, well-behaved boy like David Kernick could ever be behind such a scheme, and Peter continued to believe Andrew was responsible. Thanks, Andrew, for carrying the can! [David Kernick]

Dear Prescotian, my confession is, that as second year pupil, I did not put my RE homework into Mr. Alfie Baxter's locker because I hadn't done it! However, my real shame is that I lied bare-faced and so convincingly when Alfie handed back the marked books to the class. My truth economy, managed to convince him that he must have lost my book! He even gave me a chit to go to the book office [run by the ferocious Mr. Scott] and receive a free new exercise book. I look back at this event some 46 years ago with no triumph especially as Mr. Baxter was such a genuinely kind man. The night before I started my teaching career, my father passed on this memorable advice, "You can be as soft as my old cap, but if you are fair then you will be respected". It could not apply to anyone more than Mr. Baxter! [The Editor]  

  Dear Prescotian, my confession is, about my most striking, and memorable, sinful act was one lunch hour. This would have been in Summer 1948 and we had scoffed our school lunch, had the usual extra pudding (obtained by concealing the first one we received under the table on our knees). When we came out there was still about 20 minutes or so left and some bright spark suggested that one of us nipped in to town to get some portions of chips. Turned out that I, muggins, got the job and so I sneaked out over the front wall by going behind the still extant brick built air raid shelter at the top corner of the yard. All went well and I was coming back but spotted FAB and Hammond (eggs) in the yard chatting about something. Crossing the road I walked well past the front of the school behind a slow moving vehicle and then crossed over again opposite - as I thought - the Art classroom. I had however gone way too far along and when I took
a jump at the wall and rolled over, still clutching the bag of chips, I landed in a flower bed. That is right! if you remember the layout of the time. I landed in a flower bed in RSB's front garden and as luck would have it the ogre himself was taking a postprandial stroll in his garden. Needless to say I was told to leave my packet of chips there and go wait outside his office. It seemed ages but when he arrived and Miss Bowley (?) left the office at his bidding I was called in and given "six of the best". [Ted Moore]

Dear Prescotian, my confession is, I used to hang around on the Recreation Grounds between PGGS and the football ground. Not far away in Park Road lived our headmaster JCS Weeks. During the Autumn term it was always a laugh to climb over the wall onto the PGGS field and then make my way over to the garden of JCS Weeks which backed onto that playing field and creep onto his property to rob a few apples. Other gardens had apples just as good of course but there was that extra thrill of maybe getting caught by the head that made the little escapade even more exciting. Luckily I got away with it each and every time. Maybe he went to bed early and was completely oblivious to the fact that his apples were turning up at PGS the very next day. [Ian Thorogood]  

  Dear Prescotian, my confession is, that I was always a goody goody at school up until we merged with those pesky boys in the 3rd yr.Then things turned and through their bad influence I actually skived a double sewing lesson. Escaping out of school mid afternoon via the gate in the spinney.By the way readers my brothers confession about stealing apples ended with the police bringing him home. I remember it well shame he didn't! [Carol Thorogood]


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