Miss Strang Chapter 56

Miss Strang Chapter 56
By Governess

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This story is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It contains explicit depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such material or if such material does not appeal to you, do not read further, and do not save this story.
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Chapter 56

But Oliver, if you are to be sent away to school, then you must learn some Latin. And be proficient at it. If you are not, then you will suffer for it at the hands of your schoolmasters. Do you know any Latin, Oliver? Any at all?"

"A little Miss Strang. My mother taught me a little some summers back. Before she died."

She went to her desk and took out a book.

"This is Kennedy's Latin Primer, Oliver. But first, you will have a little test to see how much you know."

She first asked me to conjugate the present tense of Amo, which I was able to do. And then Moneo which, with some hesitation, I was also able to do. But my knowledge of essere was shown to be inadequate. And while I could, with some confidence, decline nouns of the first and second declensions, at least in the singular, I was quite ignorant of the third, fourth and fifth declensions.

"Well, Oliver, there is clearly much work to be done. As you know I never punish a child for ignorance. But where failure arises from an insufficiency of effort, then punishment will most certainly follow. And, if you are to remain a boy, then much effort and dedication will be demanded of you in the weeks ahead. I will not expect more than you can deliver, but if delivery is inadequate, then punishment will most certainly not be withheld."

She paused.

"So let us make a start."

Miss Strang's method was simple. I was set a page of grammar or vocabulary to learn, and then, after what she judged a sufficient passage of time, I was tested. I then received two strokes of the strap across my left hand for each mistake.

The poet Swinburne remarked of boys struggling to learn mathematics, that more had bled before that numerical Moloch than ever did before Artemis. But by the end of the afternoon, I was questioning whether it was not mathematics but rather the Latin god before whom more had bled.

Miss Strang was relentless.

"Oliver, the genitive plural of rex is not regorum. It is a third declension noun, not a second. The genitive plural is regum. Hold out your left hand."

And the heavy strap, recently purchased from Claythorpe's, was swung down across my already bruised and smarting palm.

"Oliver, the principal parts of fero are not fero, ferre, feri, latum. You have done well to remember that the supine is latum, but the perfect form is not feri, is it? You have had adequate time to remember the principal parts of these verbs. The perfect form is tuli. Hold out your hand."

By the end of the afternoon, my left hand was smarting and swollen. I was hating being a boy.

And while I was being schooled in elementary Latin, John was struggling with his long division and Simon was learning his tables, including the thirteenth.

"John and Simon, please stop what you are doing. John bring me your exercise book."

He did so with great trepidation.

"And I trust that it is all neatly set out as well as being accurate and correct. Hand it to me, please."

She took the book and rested it on her desk. From time to time she placed what John hoped was a mark of approval in the book. She frowned from time to time. Eventually, she put down her pen and looked up.

"And how well do you think you have done, John?"

"I . . . I'm not sure, Miss Strang."

"But you must have some idea. Do you think you have got them all wrong?"

"I hope not, Miss Strang."

"Good. Well, that hope has been realised, at least."

"What about all right?"

"I am not sure, Miss Strang."

She smiled.

"Well, I have to tell you, John, that this is another excellent piece of work. Not only is every long division correct, but it is set out neatly and clearly."

She smiled.

"I hope you are pleased."

His relief was immense and there was a noticeable exhalation of breath.

"However . . . "

And she shook her head.

"However, this is not the long division test that I set you, John. Bring me the book."

She riffled through the pages.

"I told you to turn to page 34. This test is set on page 36."

She looked at him, her eyebrows raised questioningly.

"So what have you to say?"

"I . . . I'm sorry, Miss Strang. But it was long division."

"Yes, John, I know it was long division. I have marked it. I recognise long division. Thank you. But it was not the long division I had asked you to attempt. Was it?"

He was a small boy looking down into the abyss.

"No, Miss Strang."

"No, it was not. And why was that?"

His voice was now small and barely audible.

"Be . . . because, I went to the wrong page."

Relentlessly, Miss Strang applied the pressing stones.

"And why was that, John?"

He was whining now is his desperation.

"Please, Miss Strang. I really thought it was the right page."

"I am sure you did, John. I am not thinking that you deliberately chose the wrong page. But why did you think it was the right page when it was not?"

He was now becoming surly and resentful.

"I don't know, Miss Strang."

"Well, I do, John. I know only too well. You did not listen. You did not give my words the full attention they deserved."

She waited, letting her words sink in.

"Fetch the Bible, please, John."

He went and took it from the bookshelf, and handed it to her. She opened it and found the passage that she wanted. She held it before him, her finger on the page.

"And what is written there? What is our Lord Jesus saying?

He read haltingly in a low voice as a convicted prisoner reading his own sentence.

"He . . . he who has ears. . . to hear . . . let him hear."

"Yes, John. He who has ears to hear let him hear. And do you have ears?"

"Yes, Miss Strang."

"And are you hearing me now?"

"Yes, Miss Strang."

"Then I have to conclude that when you did not hear me, when I told you to turn to page 34, that you were not listening. You were not paying attention."

He hung his head.

"And is it important for a child to listen and pay attention? Well, John?"

"I suppose so, Miss Strang."

"There is no suppose about it, John. It is essential. A child must listen and pay attention. At all times. If in an emergency, I gave you an instruction that would save your life and you were not listening, not paying attention, you might die. Everything that you learn is learnt by listening and by paying attention. Your moral conduct is governed by it, too. How can you obey if you do not listen."

She ruffled his hair.

And most important of all, your very salvation depends upon it. As the Apostle Paul says, Faith cometh by hearing."

She placed her hand under his chin and tilted back his head.

"So what needs to be done, John?"

How quickly a boy may fall from grace. Or from a sense of self-satisfaction into the misery and miasma of sin and despondency. He was in no doubt that punishment and correction were imminent. And yet like all small boys he tried to avoid acknowledging it.

"I . . . don't know, Miss Strang."

"Then let me enlighten you. First, you must be punished for having done none of the test that I set. Then . . . "

"No Miss Strang. That's not fair. No . . . ."

"John. How dare you interrupt me. You are upbraided for inattention, and now you willfully refuse to attend and listen to my words. Let me repeat. First you will be punished for doing none of the test that I set. Twelve long division questions unanswered. That will be twelve strokes of the tawse. Six on each hand. And take that resentful look off your face or I will scrub it off for you."

John looked down.

"Well? Is that unfair? Is that unreasonable?"

"But please Miss Strang. It may have been the wrong page, but they were still long division sums and I got them all right."

His eyes were bright and his face red with suppressed anger at the perceived wrong being done to him. She stepped forward and placed her arm on his shoulder.

"It may seem unfair John, but when I ask a child to do something, I expect it to be done exactly as I ask. Page 36 was not the page I told you to turn to. It was a different page. That is important. You did not listen with attention and you opened the book at the wrong page."

She paused.

"Let me ask you a question. And answer it honestly and sensibly, please."

She brushed his hair back with her hand.

"If I sent you to a cupboard and asked you to bring a small blue bottle from the top shelf and you did not listen carefully, and you brought a small blue bottle from the bottom shelf and that bottle had poison in it, would that matter? If Simon had drunk from the wrong bottle and was very ill, would you say, 'But it was the same coloured bottle, Miss Strang, and the same shape'? Well, would you?"

"No, Miss Strang."

"No, because what mattered was where the bottle was to be found. On the top shelf not the bottom. Just as the test was on page 34, not page 36. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Miss Strang."

"And suppose you were sent to dig a bed in the garden to the right of the rowan tree and instead dug the bed to the left of the rowan tree. A bed that had just been planted with seeds. Would you say. 'But it was the same shaped bed'? Well, would you?"

"No, Miss Strang?"

"No, John. I hope you would not. You do understand what I am saying?"

"Yes, Miss Strang."

"Good. Then you should have no difficulty in accepting six strokes of the tawse across each hand."

I could see tears welling up in his eyes. Tears of self-pity and helpless desperation.

"Stop crying this instant. That is the behaviour I expect from a girl of five, not a boy of ten."

He sniffed and rubbed his eyes.

"And your failure to complete the set task, means that it has still to be done. Once your hands have been strapped, you will turn immediately to page 34 and tackle the twelve long division problems to be found on that page. And let me remind you that I am still looking for one hundred per cent accuracy and impeccable neatness. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Miss Strang."

I wondered how neat his work would be when he had to write with hands that had been soundly beaten with the tawse.

She smiled.

"And on what page is the task to be found, John?"

"Page 34, Miss Strang."

"Good. I recommend that you note that down in your exercise book."

"Yes, Miss Strang."

(To be continued)