EIGHT SISTERS

A family who have their roots deeply fixed in Cambridge are the Hicks. Out of eight sisters in .the family, three went to the Cam­bridge School. Of these there were present Mrs J. Ross (Anne), who was a pupil from 1904 to 1912 and Mrs K. S. Browne (Marjorie). Mrs J. Claridge (Grace), of Buckland’s Road, Pukekohe, was absent through illness. Now 82, she was one of the earlier pupils.

TITLE TO SITE

It seems that the Auckland Education Board only finally acquired the title to the Cambridge Primary School site in 1906. It was originally owned by Surgeon Seth Sam of the 3^rd Waikato Regiment, and was trans­ferred to the Roman Catholic Bishop of Auckland.

SALAD DRESSING ON FRUIT SALAD

An amusing mistake was made at the Cen­tennial Luncheon when Tom Brindle mistook salad dressing for cream and poured it over his fruit salad. He ate it with some misgiving, remarking: “That’s the funniest fruit salad I’ve tasted in my life.”

POPULAR TEACHER

General regret was expressed at the absence through illness of a former popular teacher, Mr E. W. B. Caddie. This was most noticeable when his apology was read out at the Saturday morning function. Mr Caddie was a good golfer.

UNABLE TO ATTEND

Deep regret has been expressed by Mrs Florence D. Baxter, of Auckland that she and her twin sister, Mrs Ada Davies, were unable to attend the school centenary. They are now 79 years old and had hoped after 59 years’ absence to meet again many old friends. Cambridge and its Presbyterian Church have always been close to their hearts. They are members of the Mullins family.

AFTER 42 YEARS

Two old school chums of the 1920-24 period met again after the lapse of 42 years, during which time they maintained a regular corres­pondence. Mrs Letty Roberts (nee Russell) went to West Australia as a girl and came back

especially to attend the centennial of her old school and meet once again her friend and correspondent, Mrs J. Moorhead (Mavis Reed).

AN OLD BELLRINGER

Attending the school centenary was Alex Robertson, who with his teammates rang one of the bells in approximately 1910, at the Anglican Church. His team were W. Sharkey, W. Webber, B OToole, P. Weston, J. Sharp, Alex Robertson. Robertson rang No. 4 bell.

An old boy well-known to most teachers was Ken Reid, who was in charge of physical education in the Northern area as senior organiser. Ken enjoyed the re-union.

Mrs Jensen, wife of the caretaker at the Clare Street school has many happy recollec­tions of the 1950’s — how her husband George, now deceased, used to make a collection of pencils, rulers and rubbers and have a scramble for the pupils.

Mr Clem Ludgate, a former assistant at the school in 1928 recollects that a present he received on leaving the school, that he cher­ished most was a 3d. cake of chocolate from a little Maori boy—Jimmy Te Mananui.

Was it Tom Wells who used to tie kerosene tins to the tails of the horses in the horse paddock? One can imagine the result.

A former pupil remembers a teacher, Harry McNaughton, who used a long pointer at the blackboard, and used it as a javelin to scare any pupil whose attention wandered.

Mrs Ruth Wilkinson has lively recollec­tions of her first day at school, wearing a pair of new shoes. She received two cuts and was kept in for half an hour for making clumping noises with her shoes.

Stan Wallis recalls the “pig cart”, a name bestowed on Dick Hampton’s school bus—a converted Model T Ford, which ran pupils from the Fencourt, French Pass area. He re­calls his teacher, Harry Vause, and his ‘guard’s’ whistle which he blew vociferously when claim­ing attention outside the school. He recalls another teacher, Tom Kerr, who coached the school cricket eleven. The Cambridge cricket eleven in those days included six High School boys and five old boys of the school.

A certain staid present-day citizen by the name of Tripp was detected by Mr Campbell using a mirror to reflect a dazzling light through the headmaster’s window. Duly  cautioned.

Owen Healy remembers a convenient drain near the old police station, an ideal place for playing the ‘wag’. He recollects a favourite punishment by his teacher when he was stood in a corner for some misdemeanour. At that moment the fire bell rang. An open window was conveniently placed and in a moment he was out of the window and was the first pupil to witness the burning of the National Hotel.

Mars Sayers recalls that by a coincidence both he and his sister Joan were head prefects at the same time at the High School.

Dave McCathie was one of the “hard cases” at the school in his day. When acting as fire monitor he placed some .22 cartridges in the fire along with the coal. The resultant explo­sion hurled cinders everywhere. Asked by his teacher what could have happened, he inno­cently replied “There must have been some­thing in the coal.”

John Meanie relates how he and a com­panion cleared out after a spanking. Asked for an explanation they told Mr Pritchard how they “tore up the road” and they received further punishment for misuse of English. Mr Pritchard had a habit of walking down the aisle, his head thrust forward, repeating his favourite maxim: “Get on with the job.” He originated the school motto, “Fortiter et Recte,” and insisted on pupils repeating it till they knew it by heart.

Mr Pritchard was a very observant head­master who seized on the right moment for action. The two Body Brothers from Mona-vale drove into school in a horse and gig and gave rides to their town friends from the school gate to the horse paddock. On one occasion Nelson Body rode the horse to school and gave the horse to a friend to ride to the paddock. Nelson was much taken aback on assembly when Mr Pritchard asked: “Who was the silly boy who gave someone a ride on his horse”.—Punishment, a reprimand.

Many vivid recollections of the head-teacher, Mr Pritchard, were recounted at the reunion. Mr Pritchard was a believer in good carriage and insisted on pupils walking head erect and shoulders back. On one morning

assembly he addressed the pupils on his favourite theme and at the conclusion asked if any had lost a shilling he had picked up at the school gate. A voice from the back, “Sir, if you had been walking with your head erect and shoulders back, how did you see the shilling?”.

Three character of some thirty years ago were Slaughterhouse Sayers, Meat-Axe McCathie and Hell-Fire Hay—otherwise the Three Musketeers. In the time of Mr Griffith Jones they did their best to elevate the tone of the school. At that period there were numerous gangs in the school — their feuds frequently ending in fistic encounters on the Government Acre.

The story about Headmaster R. C. Dyer, who while patrolling the grounds in lunch hour was told by one of the girls that a certain boy swore. Mr Dyer’s response was “Well how did you know it was swearing.”

“W.C.” relates how in his time when Mr E. Caddie was teacher of St.5 and 6, his pupils had contrived to lead a string through a hole in the floor of the classroom to the knocker on the outside door, and when in need of some distraction used to pull the knocker. Needless to say the artifice was soon discovered.

Two well-known old pupils formerly pro­minent in municipal circles in Cambridge— Ken Wilkinson and Neville Souter—used to experiment with dry-cell batteries. Attaching these to the fences around the school they derived some enjoyment at giving people and horses unexpectd shocks.

Chris Boyce recollects Mr F. S. Merrick as a very popular High School teacher. In one year 12 sat for Matric and 11 passed.

A former pupil of Standard II recalls how Harry Vause caned her boy friend. She waited till he had left the room and threw his strap out of the window. And Harry Vause remind­ed her of this at the centennial.

A story about Mr R. C. Dyer when the school bell was suspended over the entrance gate. His habit was to pull the bell as he entered. On this occasion some one had filled the bell with water with uncomfortable results for Mr Dyer.

A story about Mr W. R. C. Walker, a keen volunteer officer. While with the volunteers parading in Auckland at the time of the American fleet, he was thrown from his horse and had to continue on the parade with the knee out of his pants.

“C.F.P.” recalls getting six of the best from Mr Walker along with several other boys, because on being sent home to change through getting wet on the way to school, they went instead to the domain birdnesting. However, they were seen by Mr Walker and punishment duly meted out.

BUN’S BURNT CREEKS

Around a bend above the old Karapiro bridge was a good swimming pool, a favourite haunt of a dozen or so boys in summer during lunch hours. They used to light a fire to help dry themselves, but on one occasion the fire caught on to the bank of gorse. The boys rushed to save their clothes and everything was saved bar Bun’s trousers. Two boys went to Bun’s home to get another pair of trousers while the others returned to school to explain the absence of the other three.

W. H. Tripp recollects attending the school from 1911, and teachers like Miss McPherson and Mr H. Vause, who encouraged water colour painting with excellent results. He remembers headmasters W. R. C. Walker and R. Campbell, both very efficient but differing in personality. Mr Campbell was an excellent teacher with a good sense. of humour. Mr Tripp recollects the amusement of the class when, in turning a sentence into the plural  a girl wrote:    “The horses were munching their corns.”

Fifty years ago sport was not so highly organised. For hockey, pinecones were used as balls and natural shaped branches of haw­thorn for sticks. Swimming was in the river below the school. Many wekas could be heard along the river bank. He recollects the High School being held in the Manual School under Mr Charles Meredith and how they had a week’s camp at Ruakura Experimental Farm.

Does anyone recollect the woodwork teacher, Sam Gittos, and a school-boy prank, when someone placed a fireworks bomb in the detached toilet Mr Gittos was using, and exploded it. A much shaken teacher hurriedly emerged.

Who were the pupils who used to put carbide in the ink-wells? Perhaps some may recall the culprit who avoided a thrashing when chased around the room by Mr Gittos, strap in hand and fled up Victoria Street pur­sued by the teacher, to take refuge in his father’s shop, at which Mr Gittos, deeming discretion the better part of valour, decided to retire from the chase.

Bob Pearce recalls his aversion to the regular medical inspection by the school doctor and how on one occasion when parti­ally disrobed for inspection he took to his heels and fled to his usual haunt via the lake, where he was eventually found by his father and taken home.