Robert M. Harring

I have often looked back and thought of the time, from 1868 to 1873, I spent at School as the happiest time of my life, and now, after doing my share in the battle of life, I can but feel thankful to the Old Masters-now, alas, no more-and to the old place (which has also had to make way for improvements) where I was taught. And I am pleased to say that I owe, my success in life entirely to the good schooling it was my luck to receive at Old Lambeth School.

Mr Robert Harring (An Old Boy)

Walter E. Everett, 1866-1875.

The illustration of the oldest group of boys, as seen on another page, was taken probably in 1872, and shows Dr. (then Mr.) Heller, with one of the upper classes, and Mr. Hinsley, the actual Master of the class. I remember the teacher as one of the finest mental arithmeticians I have ever known. He used to examine the boys publicly at the Annual Prize Distribution.

I remember the late Dr. Heller as one of the kindest and gentlest of men, yet he was a thorough disciplinarian.

The agitation for getting the trams over the bridges is nothing new. I remember that, in the year'72 or 73', the old London Tramway Company applied to the School for the loan of boys for the purpose of getting petitions signed. I was one of the boys chosen, and we had a fine time as (armed with our portfolio of sheets and an unspillable ink bottle tied to our buttonhole) we mounted the trams and asked the passengers to sign the petition. I think this lasted a week, and we were paid 2s. per day-a princely wage with free rides to Greenwich Park thrown in.

I am the proud possessor of a set of Commentaries which I received January 24th, 1873, presented by Rev.J. W. Home, then curate of the Church, "to the boy who exerted the best influence during the year." At the Annual Prize Distribution the boys who were to receive prizes were seated in the front with our "Sunday " clothes on. But we were unaware of what the prize consisted till we were called upon, and I have often heard my mother speak of the wonderful surprise which came to her when my name was mentioned as the "good " boy of the School, and the difficulties Mr. Heller had in deciding which boy was best entitled to the prize. I am afraid I was not such an angel at home. 

However, I have found them very useful, as I afterwards was Secretary of a Men's Bible Class for several years, and recently my own son has used them with much profit in preparing for a Scripture examination.

I was the son of sturdy Nonconformists and myself am an officer of a Nonconformist Church in Lambeth, and was one of the first, with my brothers, to avail myself of the privilege of the famous Conscience Clause, and when the Catechism and other distinctive Church teachings were to the front I, with other boys, was released from attendance and had a separate lesson on some other subject in the Board Room. This was by the express permission of the Rector, Rev. J. F. Lingham, who had sent for my mother, and who afterwards found situations for both myself and brother, thus practically showing his true catholicity and brotherliness.

I remember, when quite a little lad, going with the other boys from the School to the opening of St. Thomas's Hospital. We were stationed at the comer of the Hospital by Westminster Bridge, and our duty was to sing "God save the Queen " as Queen Victoria passed by. After the ceremony we were marched back to the School and regaled with buns and milk.

Leonard Pitt

I Never Played Cricket Again

Those who were at School with me between the years 1874-77, will well remember that on some occasions, when the day was particularly fine, we would send in during the dinner time, "a round robin" to Mr. Hernaman, begging that we might spend the afternoon in the Archbishop's field. School does appear very dull and humdrum sometimes, especially when there is a lovely day and one has been kept with one's nose fairly to the grindstone for several weeks. There was no one more ready to acknowledge this fact than our Head Master, and if we deserved it we were allowed to pack away our books and get ready. But let not the County Council School boy of today, should he read this article, think that we swarmed into the field, that we shrieked and squealed, that we climbed trees or clambered over the fencing-oh dear no! We marched to the field "four-deep " and when there we had to play cricket or rounders, the other boys sitting under the trees, looking on. And if you did not give the game that attention which in the mind of our Head Master you should have done, then you clearly had shown that you would have preferred to have continued at your lessons, and that, on any future occasion, consideration would be shown to your preference, and your studious inclination would be encouraged.

Upon this particular occasion we had to play cricket. Two teams were formed, my team lost the toss, therefore we fielded, and I was placed in the "slips." About 25 yards or so behind me and a little to the right was Archbishop Tait's kitchen garden, fenced round with barbed wire. The Archbishop's donkey, which was used to draw the lawn mower was also there, and the wretch was trying to push his great head between the wires in order to reach the cabbages which were growing a foot or so the other side of the fence. All this I could plainly see by quickly moving my head to the right, whenever the ball was sent in that direction which showed it was safe to do so. The donkey had thrust his bead between those wires! "How hungry he must be, poor thing, to brave tearing his neck with those nasty spikes," I thought. Now he has pulled up a fine cabbage, will he get his head out ? All at once there was a shout, a yell, and "whiz " went the ball along the short grass, close to my feet, and before I knew where I was, had hidden itself amongst those very cabbages which, together with the donkey, had been receiving most of my attention. As there were no "boundaries " every ball was "run out." Amid much unkind laughter and spiteful clapping of hands I wriggled between the wire fencing to look for the ball. Where could it have gone ? Oh, why didn't the Archbishop employ a horse for his mower? No other animal but a donkey would ever have attempted to do so impossible and stupid a thing. There it is! I throw the ball at the wicket-keeper just as they finish the l 4th run. The two batsmen throw themselves on the grass to gain their wind and I stand, very much at attention in my place. The donkey, in the meantime, had finished his cabbage fairly to the grindstone for several weeks. There was no one more ready to acknowledge this fact than our Head Master, and if we deserved it we were allowed to pack away our books and get ready. But let not the County Council School boy of to -day, should he read this article, think that we swarmed into the field, that we shrieked and squealed, that we climbed trees or clambered over the fencing-oh dear no! We marched to the field "four-deep " and when there we had to play cricket or founders, the other boys sitting under the trees, looking on. And if you did not give the game that attention which in the mind of our Head Master you should have done, then you clearly had shown that you would have preferred to have continued at your lessons, and that, on any future occasion, consideration would be shown to your preference, and your studious inclination would be encouraged.

Upon this particular occasion we had to play cricket. Two teams were formed, my team lost the toss, therefore we fielded, and I was placed in the "slips”. About 25 yards or so behind me and a little to the right was Archbishop Tait's kitchen garden, fenced round with barbed wire. The Archbishop's donkey, which was used to draw the lawn mower was also there, and the wretch was trying to push his great head between the wires in order to reach the cabbages which were growing a foot or so the other side of the fence. All this I could plainly see by quickly moving my head to the right, whenever the ball was sent in that direction which showed it was safe to do so. The donkey had thrust his bead between those wires! "How hungry he must be, poor thing, to brave tearing his neck with those nasty spikes," I thought. Now he has pulled up a fine cabbage, will he get his head out ? All at once there was a shout, a yell, and "whiz " went the ball along the short grass, close to my feet, and before I knew where I was, had hidden itself amongst those very cabbages which, together with the donkey, had been receiving most of my attention. As there were no "boundaries " every ball was "run out." Amid much unkind laughter and spiteful clapping of hands I wriggled between the wire fencing to look for the ball. Where could it have gone ? Oh, why didn't the Archbishop employ a horse for his mower? No other animal but a donkey would ever have attempted to do so impossible and stupid a thing. There it is! I throw the ball at the wicket-keeper just as they finish the 14th run. The two batsmen throw themselves on the grass to gain their wind and I stand, very much at attention in my place. The donkey, in the meantime, had finished his cabbage

Missing section p 74

I knew no more what they meant than a Zulu knows about the anatomy of a skate or any other fried fish. I watched the "whole floor " work on with the job, I, a thing apart, as a tramp watches a, hammerer smash a road up, I waited for trouble, I knew it must come, I felt it, then a, glorious calm, I felt quite statesmanlike. I remember looking round to the left. No hope. He had a mean look. I looked round to the right, Ah ! perhaps ?-yes, no, was this hope personified? no, yes! He was a big, clean boy-Harry Poole. The boy at the comer was Frank Plows. I don't suppose they are remembered in the slightest, "They have gone down the whirlpool-lost, quite lost." Fine boys they were, we became fast friends, and many games-pranks, is perhaps the word- we played. Harry Poole was talking to Plows, they "had finished their beer," and it was now or never with me. The marling had commenced. A battle was to be lost or won, a new star in the firmament to light and glory bom, or the horrible cane on the humble seat. My courage was at the sticking place. I turned to Poole, and timidly and politely I asked if I could borrow his slate. Bless him l he did not hesitate a second, but pushed it under his arm. I just had time to copy the lot, and a great R was marked. A glorious relief came over. Emancipated, my first morning at Lambeth Green was over. That very dinner time, whilst gentle food other urchins' eyelids kissed, I found a book, I found those sums, and I had no occasion ever again to borrow a slate.

Ernest Goodfellow, 1868-1874

When I entered our old School the Masters were: Messrs. T. E. Heller (Head), Chambers, Airy and King (who was very clever with the gloves). I always look back with great pleasure on the old School days.

I obtained several prizes, including the Rev. Lingham's, also ran second for the Writing prize, which was given by Mr. Wharton.

I was for two years or more Captain of the School Cricket Club, and was supposed to be strong on underhand shooters. One of the matches we always looked forward to was with Mr. Chambers' school at Ealing Common, where he was Head Master after leaving our School. I was scorer and collector for the Hercules Cricket Club, having some real good times at the matches. Walter Davies was the Secretary then.

I also had some pleasant times at the Old Boys' Institute, which was held at the old Vestry Hall, singing at their concerts, the pianist being Miss Adams, who played the organ at the Church on Sunday afternoon. This Institute was attended by the Master, and the then Old Boys. Many names I could give.

We had some rare fun at school in my time, some memorable fights with Pottery men and Lambeth Chapel School.

Some of my good old chums were: P. and Sam Hughes, Fred Hill, Alf Midwinter, Will Hales, Harrv Ravmond, Bros. Jim and Steve Weston, Fred Allen, Tom Knowlden, Phillinson, Jack and Ted Ferguson, Parldns, Bros. Phillips, and more I could mention.

My favourite Master was Mr. Hinsley, a good master and sportsman, and great was the treat to be allowed to use his bat, a peculiar make, unpolished and rather heavy, but a lovely driver. Other Masters I remember were Messrs. Hernaman, Heller, Walter Smith, Brown, and (Long Tom) Smith.

We had some various drill instructors. I remember one, a sergeant from the Guards, an Irishman who was keen on the left and right "fut." We were drilled in the Palace grounds, half drilling and the other half at play. I well remember one drill afternoon, when we had a competition of cannon and mortar. Our mortar was made from the elbow of a gas pipe. It was charged with powder and small stones or shot. A boy being persuaded to put his cap for a target, and being stiff, after the firing, much to his surprise, it was riddled with holes. Of course, some of us had to face the music next day.

We had some good days at the Palace, when we sung at the 5,000 voice festival. - One time Mr. Hernaman, who was then, I think Head Master of a school at Bishopsgate, brought his drum and fife band.

Since leaving school I have travelled about, and two of my greatest treats was to come across a boy of my own time who lived in North Street, also a very Old Boy who, I am sorry to say, has just died, who well remembered the Lambeth Green. Many is the chat I had with him about his time at the old School. I am looking forward with great pleasure to meeting or reading of my old boy chums again, having been away when meetings have been held.

John Goodfellow

Most old boys of my time will recollect the notice board outside the School. A poster was there, drawing attention to Mr. Busbridge's Drawing Classes, held on Saturday afternoons.

Another boy and myself bad to light the school fires on those days. I think it was about the year 1881, as near as I can remember.

One Saturday, after having lit our fires, we were about to have a game in the School-yard, when I espied several pigeons resting on the low building at the end of the yard by the Lower School.

Having got a huge piece of coke, I took careful: aim, and succeeding in hitting one just as it rose on the wing. It managed to fly away, however, but left a lot of feathers tumbling in the air. I turned round, expecting to find my companion rejoicing at my good shot. To my horror, standing immediately behind, was ,John Hernaman, A.K.C., F.S.A. He had come quietly out of the Middle School, and caught me flagrante delicto.

He looked sternly at me, then said, "Come to my. desk on Monday morning!"

I can leave the gentle reader to imagine my feelings. I think that Sunday was one of the most wretched Sundays I have ever passed.

Monday morning aniseed, alas, only too soon !

I did not go up to the desk, thinking perhaps he would not remember the incident. But I had reckoned without my host, for, at two o'clock, he called me out in front of the whole school. He told me to stand up on his desk platform.

"This boy," he said, addressing the boys, "wrote one of the best essays on I Cruelty to Animals' last Friday, On Saturday morning I caught him throwing a large piece of coke at a poor pigeon, and, no doubt, must have hurt it severely. I shall destroy his essay and punish him as well."

I then received two terrific handers. The annual essays upon " Cruelty to Animals " had been written the previous week, and I thought I was alright for a prize.

E. A. Beach, 1875-1881

"ONE OF THE OLD GUARD,"

Afterwards Head Master of St. John's.

Tune "The British Grenadier."

Some talk of Alexander
And some of Underwood,
Of Hernaman and Tozer
And all of them are good:
But of all the masters in the school
None of them can compare
With the singing-master Davey,
The best of all that's there.

Joe Stammers (the Spotless Twin)

THE SPORTSMAN AND ONE OF HIS "BAGS."

'Twas glorious noontide and our usual select clique had repaired to the sombre shadows of our beloved Arches for the usual though sternly forbidden game of "Hoppy Chivvy”, leaving the customary guard of one over our satchels which were piled against a wall. 

The game was fast and furious when a ten'ible cry rent the air, "LOOK OUT! HERE'S JOHNNIEY !!!

No time to save our impedimenta, scarce time to save ourselves. The cry was, Bunks"and,bunk"we did with all might, vowing most amiable treatment for our treacherous guard (whose name I'll not mention) .

And then and there, oh, the shock of it, we saw (at a safe distance and behind good cover) the noble Sportsman call his gamekeeper (one Tammias) and load him with the spoils of the chase-our bags.

I don't suppose any of us ate much during that dinner-hour, but at afternoon school all of us were presented with a good helping of dessert, together with our satchels by our ever amiable and courteous (but on this occasion chuckling) Head Master, John Hernaman the Beloved.

Of course there were some responses, and then those who preferred to remain spectators settled down to enjoy the fun. One portion of this business consisted in jumping through some paper hoops and alighting on the animal's back again, and so that the novice should not come to grief a stout leather band was fastened round his waist, this in turn being attached to a rope which ran over a pulley suspended in mid-air. All being ready a start was made with the performance and the horse commenced to trot round the ring much to our young friend's dismay, but this was nothing compared to his astonishment when the time aniseed for him to jump, evidently he had forgotten all about this, for the next we saw of him was up in the air dangling on the end of the rope, looking extremely unhappy over something or other. Needless to say he had not jumped through the hoop nor alighted on his mount's back. Judging by the expression on his face the assistance he received from the man who pulled the string was not at all desirous. The little outings that we used to participate in were much appreciated and tended to sharpen one up to greater efforts for lessons, and one and all will fully bear out that the interest taken by our old friend Mr. Hernaman in our games and outings did more than one would think towards malting the boys of Lambeth Schools the capable men they have mostly turned out to be, for they knew they had to learn their lessons well or else the next entertainment would take place in the board room with no spectators whatever.

Edward Wells, 1880-1887

Reminiscences of our school-days are things that are often brought up by one and another at our occasional gatherings, and I daresay that many of us will remember how we used to look forward to the days when we were to have an afternoon holiday.

I well remember one year when we went to Astleys (Sanger's) circus, that they had provided a little extra entertainment by showing us boys how they taught their bareback riders their business, and after all had been explained, a general invitation was announced that any boy who would like, could try to accomplish the art on the spot.

Harry Copley, 1877 -1884

My most esteemed Head Master, the late Mr. John Hernaman, known amongst us boys as "Dear old Johnnie," arranged to take a number of the boys to Epping Forest on a certain Saturday for a lesson in botany. We were thoroughly instructed as to what we were expected to do before starting. We were to take our dinners to eat in the Forest, and at a fixed time in the afternoon to meet at a certain hostelry for tea, after which, we should have games till time to start for train home. Everything went off swimmingly with me until we reached the Forest, and then commenced the series of disasters which I shall never forget.

Percy G. Bavin, 1884-1892

I can only recollect the last two or three years of my schooldays, and only one thing I do know they were very happy ones. Younger school days, of course, you never think of, as you are mostly too anxious to get out in the street and play with your chums. As we got older our dear old Master was very fond of taking us for little excursions, mostly to be taken as object lessons to improve our minds and vary the monotony of school.

We were all trotting along the road from the station malting our way to the Forest when I espied a brook, to me at that time of life, like unto a salmon stream, so instantly made up my mind that as soon as I could break away with safety I'd make for that stream. An opportunity soon occurred and away I went. Cautiously malting my way down the bank my foot caught in a root, and in trying to save myself, my one and only care (my dinner) slipped from under my am and rolled into the stream. I then set about cutting a stick for a fishing rod, and with a bent pin and strong cotton was soon a disciple of Isaac Walton. After one or two throws I got a bite, and with much care succeeded in landing my well- soddened dinner, but the nice, clean white bag in which it was wrapped was very much soiled, and it smelled oh, so very strong, it fairly took my appetite away, The " salmon stream " turned out to be an open drain, so I left the contents of my bag for the benefit of an benighted fish that happened to pass that way. I then decided to try some other spot, and on my happening to see a more suitable stick for fishing purposes I felt for my knife to cut it, but alas, that had evidently gone with my dinner, for I never saw it again. To make matters worse, it was a present given me only a few days before. It then dawned upon me how very unlucky it is to accept a knife and not to give a coin in return. Shortly after, meeting with some more of the boys, we wandered further into the Forest, and as tea time drew near we began to think of malting our way to the place where it was to be served, but to our horror and dismay, not one of us could remember the name of the place or which way to tum, so we started in real earnest to find it. But alas, we wandered and wandered until it began to get dark. Beginning to think fate was against us, we met a man and asked the nearest way to the railway station. After what appeared an endless journey we found the only porter and naturally asked if the rest of the party had come along, and his answer was, at least to me, a most crushing blow. He said they had all been gone some time, and he was doubtful if there were any more trains for London that night (I have tried hard since to find that porter). Well, as we were all tired out, myself starving in the bargain, we crawled outside to find a soft spot to camp on for the night, to be ready for the tramp to London in the morning. When all at once we heard tramping in the distance and voices as they got nearer and when we could see they were our party, well, never have I felt the joy I experienced that moment since. And talk about the reception we got. It made us feel very like heroes. When things had quietened on the way home in the train, they told us how we had been missed at tea, and scouts had been sent out to search for us, and at the last moment when all were gathered together, how they had shouted that their voices might guide us. However, just as I was beginning to feel more contented, dear Old Johnnie puts his head in the carriage window and honoured me with a curtain lecture, and wound it up by kindly inviting me into the Court of Justice (Board room) after prayers first thing Monday morning to be introduced to his new stick of office. Even then more disasters were to follow, for when we arrived at Liverpool Street Station it was raining like the proverbial cats and dogs, and starting to walk home we were soon wet through to the skin. Then up arose a good Samaritan in the form of my old class master, Mr. Sims, who kindly put us in the bus he was travelling in for home. I must draw a curtain round the final disaster, but one thing I may say that after the introduction to the new stick one particular portion of my clothes did not require brushing.

Mr Edward Wells (Assist. Hon. Sec.)

Mr Harry Copley (An Old Boy)

"Marsey," 1880-87

Scene … The Old School.

Some time between 1880 and 1887, the master is checldng the registers, and comes to the name of that well-remembered character, E--r. The following dialogue ensues –

Master. E-r, what is your Christian name ?

E--r. Richard, sir!

Master. Any other name ?

E-r. Yes, sir, Dick!!!

"Richard Dick " was the author of the famous reply to the question: "How much is a penny without the currants?” “Ha'pney, sir 1 "

Our dear old Master was evidently a believer in the saying, “The nearer the Church the farther from righteousness," for, on those painful occasions when something untoward happened, the whole school was called into the large hall for the purpose of finding out the miscreant or miscreants, his first words invariably were:

I”COME, OUT ALL THE CHOIR BOYS !"

I wonder how many of the old choir boys kept up this reputation after they had left school.

Fred Shaw, 1875-1880

THREE BOYS IN A BOAT

 Leo and Joe Stammers and myself, one holiday time, thought we would prove ourselves true sons of Britain by chartering one of the skiffs that could be had for the hiring at the old boathouse at Lambeth Pier, and exploring the wilds of Battersea or Putney, or even farther afield (or afloat), should time and tide, favour.

I forget the exact order we started in, but I believe Leo and Joe took an oar each, and your humble took the steering ropes. We started off with the tide, and got, after one or two arguments between Leo and Joe as to who was to take time from the other, as far, perhaps, as Putney, and perhaps thinking the time would be nearly up, or getting hungry or tired, or something, the mariners decided to return.

Rowing with the tide is all very well, but rowing against it is quite a different matter to little arms that were unused to such exertion. I am perilously near forty now, and when I look back to that particular day I can hardly believe that the three little chaps in that boat could possibly have navigated it back as far as we did without disaster. We were nearly run down by a Thames steamboat and a tug, but where we nearly lost the number of our mess was just under Vauxhall Bridge, where the tide was running like a mill race against the buttresses, and all our efforts to leave the bridge seemed futile. We rowed as hard as we could, but could make no headway.

I was wondering what it felt like to be drowned, we were all three in tears, and I think we must have been too fatigued to try any more, a any rate, instead of our boat going forward it drifted backwards, and our efforts were rewarded, for, by rowing, we kept the boat away from the buttresses and in the middle of the stream, and found ourselves clear of the bridge. To pull to some leading steps on the norther side of the river did not take long, and I was landed with instructions to run over to Lambeth boathouse and get our friend the boatman to escort his boat and the budding sons of Neptune to terra firma. 

Poor Leo has since crossed that narrow stream which so many of our boyhood's friends have crossed, and where they are waiting to welcome us to terra firma.

T. S. Hanscomb

When a lad leaves school and launches out into the world to earn his own living he is apt to leave the neighbourhood of his boyhood days, and unless some Old Boys' association commands his attention it is more than likely he in time forgets his old school and schoolmates entirely. One can imagine, then, how much pleasure it gave me when, after nearly twenty years, I came quite accidentally across my old school chum, Edwin Goodfellow, who had quite a budget of news to tell me of Old Lambeth and Old Lambethans. Accepting his invitation to the Reunion of Old Lambeth Boys at the Concert held at the Homs Assembly Rooms, I went there, fully malting up my mind that I should meet my old school chums of fifteen to twenty years ago. Judge of my surprise, then, to find so few of the real Old Boys who were, in my days, a pleasure to themselves and a deal of trouble to their teachers and masters.

I had forgotten that twenty years in a man's life means an enormous number of changes, and it made me feel that I, too, though only a young man, am only mortal and getting on in years. It was very pleasant, after all, to meet some of the Old Boys, and to obtain addresses of others, so that, at times, we can have a chat, if only through the post, with our old school chums of many years ago.

As regards reminiscences of my schooldays, no doubt most of them will be retold by many of the Old Schoolboys who have written copy for this work, but I have no doubt that the Rev. H. V. Bickersteth could write quite a volume on the doings of those terrible boys who were once members of his Club, held at the old Star Mission. One thing that I can call to mind more prominently than anything else, perhaps, was the occasion of the riots in Trafalgar Square, when, with one accord, the whole of the Bible Class rushed out of the schoolroom and left Mr. Bickersteth alone.

Personally, I have a great deal to thank Old Lambeth for. First of all, we Old Boys can safely say our Old Masters and Teachers can never be beaten, and I think that I can justly say that there are few masters of the present day who take such an interest in their boys, both outside the School as well as inside, as our masters did in the palmy days of the old Lambeth Schools.

In conclusion, I will wish prosperity to all Old Lambeth Boys, and I sincerely hope that the Old Boys' club will not only prosper, but will be the means of our meeting our Old Masters as well as our old chums.

Bide Phillips, 1883-88

Our standard (the 5th) was being taken by Mr. Greville for the singing prize. It was the first year that a prize for that particular subject was to be competed for. We bad assembled in force in the "room under the arch," and a few bars of notes in tonic sol-fa were placed upon the blackboard. The "doh " having been given by Mr. Greville, away we individually started. I cannot quite recall the fun that many boys had at their less fortunate companions' expense, as the notes-quite unknown in the tonic sol-fa-were emitted from boys who only did their best. Suffice it to say that at the termination of the competition Mr. Greville read out in order a few names and the number of their errors. Francis Lee came first and myself second. My surprise was great you may be sure, but greater still was my surprise at being informed by Mr. Greville that, as Francis Lee had a first prize in another subject, he was disqualified from taking the singing prize, which would therefore come to me being second. My friends were astonished at my good luck as they called it, and no wonder, for as a boy I possessed a wretched voice, so much so, in fact, that it was useless for me to ever try to get into a church choir, because they would not take me. But then the singing prize, as it was called, was likely to be misconstrued, people thinking it was given for the sweetest or prettiest voice, which was entirely wrong, as my case proved , the prize being given for correct sight singing from notes, which is quite a different thing. 

However, I was in my element, and waited for my name to appear - which it did-on the list of prize winners. The distribution was also awaited with impatience, and when it did arrive my delighted and nervous self was all aglow with excitement. Mr. Lingham was, I believe, distributing the prizes, and I waited and waited, and not till the last prize bad been distributed did I fear that I was not to receive mine-but alas, it was so. In fact, my tum never came. 

Crestfallen I hunted home, amid the laughter of my companions, to dream for all I know of the prize I never received. Explanations followed, and Mr. Greville told me that he was very Sony, etc., etc., but that the Committee had no more money at their disposal, and, therefore, had decided at the last moment to forego giving a singing prize that year.

G. Prowse Powis, 1880-1886

During the whole time I attended the school I remember I was never one to shine in any particular subject, but went along steadily in everything, and just managed to pass every year from one standard to the next higher, but never managed to pull off a prize. I think it was when I was in the Fifth Standard, I went to a Prize Distribution, which made me think low proud one must feel to go up and receive a prize, when, quite unexpectedly, my name was called out for me to go up and receive a prize, which I had not the slightest idea of, and which I found was for 11 perseverance," and was a very useful desk, and is still very useful now to call to mind how fair Mr. Hernaman was in every way, and was always ready to give one some encouragement.

I recollect, when I was in the Seventh Standard, being one of a party of boys to go to the Zoo. We had a very fine time, and coming home we had a singing lesson at a small summer house on the way. We soon had a large audience-in fact, I suggested going round with the hat, and got severely clumped for my pains. However, we were spared the hat business, as a gentleman came up and enquired who we were and where we came from, and left a sovereign as a souvenir, to be spent how we liked, as a memorial of our visit to the Zoo. And this I will add, we did enjoy ourselves with the money, having a Saturday out in the country by putting a little more to it, going to see one of "Johnny's " old boys.

As a boy I always had a wish to win the Archbishop's prize, given to the best boy as a rule. When I was about eleven, I think, the Fourth Standard boys were admitted to the Prize Distribution, and I made up my mind to try and get that prize. I never had a chance until I got up into the Sixth, and then I started to try. I managed to get about fourth on the list, and next time I said I should be first. I counted my chickens before they were hatched, as I was caught talking during the exam. for prizes, and lost five marks and also lost the prize.

Mr Percy Bavin (The founder of the Re-union of Boys

Arthur E. Richardson, 1885-1892

During my last year at the old School in Hercules Buildings, I was sent after a situations great event to us boys- offered by a banister, who was a great friend of our master, Mr. Hernaman. In the interview I had with this gentleman I didn't quite please him, so had to march back to school days again, and as you may be sure was very crestfallen. Having reported myself to Mr. Hernaman, who was disappointed in me not securing the situation, he said "That though this was perhaps my first disappointment in life undoubtedly in later years I should know the meaning of the phrase better." It was as our friend said, and I have often thought of those words during about 15 years of business life.

Bill Rowling, 1888-1893

We had in my time a tardy scholar of the first water. Mr. Hernaman tried everything in his power to get him there early  - caning, keeping in, additional homework-all of which, however, were of no avail until, driven to desperation, be ordered the whole Seventh Standard to stay in, saying that, perhaps, by him punishing us all we should make arrangements each day for one of us to call for him.

This keeping us in rather set our backs up, so we knocked our heads together and decided to serenade him after school that afternoon.

So a party of between twenty and thirty of us wended our way to Canterbury Place and knocked to inform his mother of our grievance, but instead of receiving sympathy we only received a cold welcome, and she called K. forward to take our names and report us to Mr. Hernaman next day, after pr6mising us a pail of water if we called then, so we advisedly stayed away, and next morning K. came early, with his slate of names and a note from his mother. 

"Good old Johnny " read it through, and half smiling, and yet trying to be severe, told us that he did not want the class to go as a body, but individually.

I am sorry to say that this lesson did not bring K. early, but it was the last punishment extended to the class for an individual's wrong.

Another episode I well remember in which I will mention names, for I hardly think the actors will mind. 

Alf Gamish, Ted Lee, Will Goodfellow, Geo. Haythorpe. and myself were in the habit of taldng a little physical culture' in the gymnasium without permission after school, by some means or the other.

Mr. Hernaman got wind of the entertainment, and laid wait for us.

All who remember the old School arches will know that you could only get into the gymnasium with the key, which Geo. Haythorpe then had, being key boy. So we heard that Johnny was after us, so told off one-I think it was Ted Lee to listen inside the gylnllasium door, and if Mr. Hernaman had a key we were to run to the connecting door of the arches and go out the other arch, when he heard Johnny's quick step he gave the signal, Geo. Haythorpe locked the connecting door of the arches, and we ran up the top school as quickly as possible, and came down marching Indian file to meet Mr. Hernaman in the schoolyard, when he asked us where we had been.

Of course, the answer was, "Upstairs, to lock up."

He asked us "How many it took to lock up? " and passed on, while we enjoyed the trick we had played on the dear old chap.