Off To See The Wild West Show Part 1, Chapter 4 (1/3) By Frank Beill 1886: Hull, Yorkshire

(1/3), (2/3), (3/3). Part 1 Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20. Part 2 Prologue, Chapter 1, 2, 3.

My first morning in the orphanage was also the first at my new school and I was in for more surprises. Unfortunately, they were not all pleasant ones. George led me into our classroom, which was just like the one at my old school. The schoolmaster's high-legged desk dominated the front of the room while behind on the wall a blackboard ran the full width of the room. A series of rows of desks rose in wooden tiers from the front of the room to the back. On each level were four double-desks, all obediently facing the teacher. I hoped I wouldn't be on the last row at the back of the room. It was so high I thought I would be dizzy.

The first surprise to confront me was the presence of girls in the classroom. Runcorn Street Board School maintained the strict segregation of boys and girls. 'What are girls doing here?' I whispered to George, who was appointed my permanent guardian by Mr Mason. He was responsible for keeping me clean and tidy and under control. 'We have all our lessons together.' George nodded knowingly. 'Except for when we do exercises in the yard … an' arithmetic, of course. Girls don't need to know that. They do cooking' an' sewing' instead.' He led me up the tiers on the side of the classroom, next to panelled windows that stretched up the full height of the room. A further surprise came when I counted the desks and worked out that the room could hold no more than forty pupils. I was used to lessons with over fifty boys in the class. 'That's our desk.' George pointed to one on the third tier. 'I used to share it with Sal, but she's moved to sit with Annie Phelps.'

I looked across the room to see Sal and another girl sitting at a desk on the far side. Sal was smiling at me. As I remembered her I did not think of Sal smiling. George was the one with the smiles while she was always the serious one, mothering both her brother and myself. Looking back, I realise despite her unsmiling expression she was pretty but it was not something that ever came into consideration during my time in the orphanage. She was just Sal. Mr Rodgers entered and everybody fell silent. We all stood to show what was supposed to be respect for our schoolmaster. Abject fear was a better description. He mounted the dais on which stood his desk. This was the end of any thoughts of relaxation until it was time for our playtime, which always felt an eternity away.

'Good morning, class,' he said but I feared there would be nothing good about it. 'Good morning, sir,' everyone responded in unison. He called out the register, giving only surnames unless, like George and Sal, more than one scholar shared the same one. Without saying anything further he announced: 'Assembly.'

Continued Next Page

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