The Ivory of My Life

The headmaster walked down the corridor slowly. He passed the new desks stacked by S.3 room and as usual muttered to himself. 'Must get Wilson to see to those desks.' By the time he was four steps past he realized that something had caught his eye. He went back to look again. There-some scratching on the shining new varnish. He peered closer, bending over his stomach. With his lips moving he read the words-'Carter is an old dope.' He was indignant, shocked, astonished. He read them again, aloud. Carter is an old dope. An old dope! Some fellow ... .always something... .must find out... .can't have this sort of thing, can't have this sort of thing at all.

He stormed into Wilson's room. The first assistant was taking a lesson on trade winds when the headmaster slammed open the door and spoke through his sentence. "Mr. Wilson, I say Wilson, some fellow-come and look. New desks out here-scratched all over-insulting nonsense. Must find out-come here... ." He ignored the lesson and the class while he pushed the first assistant out into the corridor. Some of the children sniggered, a few looked startled. By the time the headmaster returned to the room they were all bland and attentive, waiting for the enquiry to begin.

"Now-ah-who has seen those desks in the corridor?" The whole class put their hands up. "Who has noticed that they are nice new desks?" All the hands went up again. "Yes. Nice new desks. Just waiting to put in your classrooms. Very nice desks. Now some fellow has been writing on those desks! We are not going to have this sort of thing in the school. I want the children of this school to be well mannered, well behaved, honest, helpful, to show respect. Yes... . You must show respect." He took his hand out of his pocket and waved it at the class. "You people here-you're the big boys and the big girls of the school. You must set an example to the others. I trust you to help me... ." He rubbed the hand over his face and appeared to be wiping his nose with his fingerships. "Now who has seen anyone hanging around those desks? Terrible thing in a school... .find the boys and girls can't be trusted to leave things alone. Who has seen anyone-after school... .lunchtime?" He crossed his legs, folded h is arms and leaned against the teacher's table breathing noisily. Nothing happened. The class looked bland still, but expectant. The first assistant was by this time absent 'making further enquiries'-in fact having a smoke in the staff room. Presently a hand flickered up. The headmaster noticed it.

"Well.. ah..Corbett? What is it?"

"Please sir, I saw Mr. Marshall standing by the desks, sir, after school yesterday, sir.

"Marshall... .I'll see him! Who? Marshall, Mr. Marshall!-but what are you talking about Corbett-Mr. Marshall doesn't scratch on desks! Now come on-I can't waste time on this-someone wrote on those desks and you people must tell me who it was. I want to know who did it."

The class was getting bored. Soon a hand went up and then'a boy half stood saying, "Sir, please sir, I know who it was."

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"There!-well now-tell me! Hurry up, come on!"

"Please sir, he had on a blue blazer, sir. He was hanging around the desks at lunchtime yesterday, sir."

"Come here boy, come here. Don't lounge there. Now-ah-who was this fellow?

"Please sir, I don't know his name sir."

"What does he look like? What class is he in?"

"Sir, I don't know sir. He had his back to me. But he had on a blue blazer and black shoes and grey socks, sir."

"Blue blazer and black shoes... .yes, now..ah..How tall was he? Hurry up!"

Please sir, he wasn't very big, sir."

"Not very big-now..ah..would you say about S.3. would he be in S.3."

"Please sir, he might have been, sir."

The headmaster was elated. He was on the chase at once. He burst into Miss Collie's room, ignored her, stared around, slammed out again. He went next to Miss Fletcher's room. His noisy entrance was followed by silence then he smacked his lips. "That boy there. Come out. Come out here... .hurry up!" He panted towards the boy who stood up, hesitating. "Into my office. Hurry up now, hurry up. This is the fellow, you're the one I want." He proded and pushed the boy out of the room, along the corridor and into his untidy office. He pulled his chair out and sat down with satisfaction. "Now... .you're the fellow. You wrote on those desks. Can't have that sort of thing... .writing on desks... . Not in my school. What do you want to do a thing like that for, eh? Do you what I do to boys that write on desks? Eh?" He shook the boy by the shoulder, reaching out with strong fat fingers panting.

"Please sir, I didn't write on any desks."

"So-you tell lies too, do you. Well, no lies to me, my boy. I know. I have ways of finding out things. I know you did it. I'm going to strap you for this. Up to now... "

"Sir, I didn't write on the desks," the boy said again. He was frightened and unprepared for this onslaught.

The headmaster shouted, "Don't stand there telling me lies. I know you did it. Scribbling on desks-writing things about people-I know you did it. Own up now!"

The boy wanted to cry but he said again, "Please sir, I didn't write on a desk." The headmaster went more purple. He took out his large watch and put it on the table. It seemed to the boy to be ticking very loudly."There... five minutes I'll give you. Five minutes to make up your mind to tell the truth. Then I'm sending for the police. The police, I say. Five minutes-and you had better own up. I have ways of finding out these things... the police... mind what I say!" He backed out of the office, threatening the boy with his popping eyes. For twenty minutes the boy waited, looking out of the window worried and disturbed. When the headmaster came back he had with him the one who had first volunteered the 'information.' "Now... what do you say now, eh? Going to own up?" He pulled the boy by the elbow to make him face around. "I didn't write on the desks. I don't know anything about it." "Alright young fellow. The police... this boy here saw you doing it-lunchtime yesterday. He saw you!"

"Please sir, I have had the mumps. I just came back to school today. I wasn't here yesterday."

"What!... what's that... not here... mumps? Wasting my time like this. Stand outside there, stand outside. I'll look into this... not here..." He stamped off down this corridor, banging in and out of rooms shouting, getting more furious and ineffectual Finally he came back. He was clutching the collar of a small child in a blue blazer. He pushed this unfortunate into the office and slammed the door.

That evening the boy had had mumps told his parents about the incident. "And has this other child done it?" his father asked. "I don't know," the boy said," he must have said he did, anyway. He got the strap. I heard it going just before I ran out to the lavatory. He was out of the primer room."

His father looked at his mother and quoted, "'You had the ivory of my life to carve!'"

—E.M.D.