Gatley - The End of the Line

By Peter Boden

15. Mrs HIGSON’S “SHORTACRE” HIGH SCHOOL.

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However, I had to go to the infant school at four and bit years old. This establishment was started in a house on the boundary of Gatley and Cheadle (Illus. 25). I was the second child to be enrolled after Mrs Ada Higson took on the task of running the school.


25 - Shortacre High School building, Gatley Road (1988)

It was a congenial place for small children to enjoy the essential lessons. For instance, I learned to be a coal monitor. Each morning I had to decide whether to add a little more coal to the open fire, and so I maintained the classroom temperatures for several years.

Time moved on and further recruits were obtained, it became clear to my pals and I, that there was a large majority of girls with only about eight boys. The curriculum slowly drifted towards a high proportion of knitting, sewing, country dancing, elocution (ugh!) and other sundry unnecessary subjects. Even at eight, in September 1933, my class report (Illus. 26) gave GOOD for needlework. This was praise indeed, and above FAIRLY GOOD for Elocution


26 - Last School Report (14th September 1933)

My gang of boys began to wonder what was so different about these alien creatures with skirts. We arranged to meet some of them for a mutual inspection of differences one Saturday afternoon, but someone squealed to their parents. I had to wait many years to reconvene another meeting!

Many happy hours and days passed, but one major event seared my childhood whilst I was at that school. Great psychological damage was done to me during a “French” lesson. I have never liked France since that time. A young lady called “Madeleine” arrived to introduce the 6/7 year old children to the wonderful world of French and France. There was talk of a day trip to Calais on a ferryboat! We were introduced to “Madeleine” in a very crowded classroom.

The chairs had been removed to allow space for two classes to stand. The “rogue” boys, including myself, contrived to hide away at the back while the Mademoiselle chattered away in French. The sound of many of her French words caused increasing hilarity. We became rather noisy. Then we heard, “oui, oui!” I’m sorry, but we fell about with uncontrollable chortles. Two of us raised our hands to leave the room.
I think she screeched:
“Non, non et une autre non!
Stand still until zee end of zee lesson!
Mon Dieu! Les Enfants Anglais!”

Frightened into silence, we stood; first on one leg and then the other as internal pressure grew in my bladder. Then, horrors of horrors, my socks became wet and warm. My embarrassment exceeded the fear of Mademoiselle. I fled out of the classroom, out of the school and I kept running for half a mile until I reached home and comfort. Madeleine did not stay for long at “Shortacre” after that day.

One day we were formed into a crocodile file, and marched to Gatley Station. This was a great wonder to us as many had not travelled on a train, although it had existed since 1909. We climbed aboard the carriages and set off behind a steaming tank engine for a day’s outing at the Belle Vue Zoo, Gorton, Manchester. Not many children had seen real wild animals before that day. We felt a combination of wonderment, fear and curiosity as we were trundled around the cages of gigantic elephants, tall giraffes, creepy snakes, and the penguins. There was much to see.

One of the main events that I can recall was eating sandwiches from a small sandwich box while seated on the sloping steps of the monkey house. So much for my educational day outing. Of course, the monkeys were a lot of fun to watch. Charlie, my friend, had outstanding ears, and the monkeys took a great deal of interest in him!

Chapter 16