LAD, SOME LAD",
"Yes sir, some lad said
he'd seen you go home in your car just,
so I thought I could go home!"
the two first years did not leave and
were waiting when I came back from the
town centre where I had a little urgent
was not just evaporating, it was draining
visibly in my now ashen face. A new
invitation was accepted and still
standing was fully aware of the
schadenfreude that was delighting my
class mates. The punishment went on in
class where I was always addressed by the
great man, from the corner of his mouth,
as "Some lad!". Even in the
sixth form, when Latin was off my agenda,
he would pass me in the corridor with a
quiet reminder, "Some lad!"
years later, I was walking along Castle
Street with a girlfriend in Liverpool
when I saw the Latin Master approaching.
What should I say when we got close to
each other, would he remember me. I was
frozen in silence as we passed each other
but just at the moment we drew level,
from the side of his mouth came that
sarcastic, "Some lad!" Much to
the consternation of my girlfriend, was
delirious with joy, he'd remembered me!
postscript, I was one of the privileged
few who were allowed to take home a copy
of a Billy Bunter comic written in Latin.
Mr. Burrows had his copy as a treasured
possession, and it was loaned out on
trust for weekend for senior pupils ie