Grandpa and I went shopping. He was getting along quite well now, though a bit slower than he used to be. He bought me an ice-cream, after grumbling about how much they cost nowadays.
He seemed to know people everywhere. Frank and Joe, who ran the fruit shop, both came out the front to talk to him, and they gave me a bunch of grapes. He’d taught them both. I was proud of the way they all respected him so much, although it meant going shopping took twice as long as it should.
Suddenly, near the bread shop, we ran right into Mr Murlin. I went red, but I was pleased. ‘This is my teacher,’ I said to Grandpa. ‘This is my grandfather,’ I said to Mr Murlin. They shook hands.
‘Scott was very worried about you,’ Mr Murlin said to Grandpa.
‘Oh well,’ Grandpa said, ‘I just felt like a good rest for a while, and hospital was the only place to get it.’ They both laughed, and Grandpa went on, ‘I used to be a teacher myself, you know.’
‘Yes,’ Mr Murlin said. ‘Jane Holland was telling me.’
‘Ah yes,’ Grandpa said. ‘I remember her when she first started out. I was her supervisor when she did her Prac. teaching rounds.’ He paused. ‘But you sound like you’re quite a teacher yourself. Scott’s homework has kept me on my toes this year.’
They both laughed again. ‘Scott keeps me on my toes in class,’ Mr Murlin said.
I could see that they were getting on OK, which was a relief, because I hadn’t been too sure that they would. I drifted away and watched some kids on skateboards. The two adults talked for quite a while, but Grandpa seemed to be doing most of the talking. Eventually they separated, making their farewells. I drifted back again, said goodbye to Mr Murlin, and kept going down the street with Grandpa.
‘Do you like him, Grandpa?’ I asked.
‘Well . . .’ he smiled. ‘He’s an interesting fellow. I know schools have changed a lot the last few years . . .’
. . . Grandpa and Mum and some other parents were sitting up the back of the classroom. We were all dressed in old-fashioned clothes. So was Mr Murlin. He carried a long bamboo cane as he walked up and down the aisles. We had ink-wells in our desks and old pens with nibs in them. We did some lessons from the old days: we had to try to add sums like £2 12s 6½d plus £3 10s 8d. And convert guineas to pounds and shillings. And we had to copy out words in old-fashioned writing, like colonial and Queen Elizabeth. We had to sit up straight and fold our arms and not speak or leave our desks. When we answered a question we had to stand up. We had a dictation passage that started off:
‘It is to the benefit of all dutiful children that they should adopt a deferential manner when conversing with their parents and teachers . . .’
‘Holy smoke,’ whispered Johnny to me. ‘I can’t understand this, let alone spell it.’
But he was caught talking and had to stand in the corner. And Tom Tregonning, who was caught a minute later, was told to write out one hundred times ‘I must not talk in class’. Tom said, ‘But sir, I . . .’ and Mr Murlin said, ‘Two hundred’, and Tom said, ‘Oh sir, that’s not . . .’, and Mr Murlin said, ‘Three hundred.’ Tom sat down, looking beaten, and all the parents laughed.
Grandpa just loved it. His eyes were more alive than I’d seen for ages. He followed everything, smiling and chuckling at everything that happened, and when Mr Murlin produced a book called Fifth Grade Reader he clapped his hands together.
‘Oh, that was the best thing I’ve seen in years,’ he said to me at recess, when the parents were going home. ‘Yes, that’s the way it was.’ He got serious then. ‘But you know, it wasn’t all being strict and giving punishments. There was a lot of warmth in those old-fashioned classrooms. And a lot of humour. And the teachers got a lot of respect.’ He walked on a bit further. ‘Trouble is, the respect was often mixed with fear. Hard to tell where one ended and the other began. By and large I’d have to say that things are better now.’
I waited patiently but he seemed to have finished, so I gave him and Mum a kiss. ‘Thanks for getting out of work,’ I told Mum. ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘I’ve hardly been there the last few weeks.’
‘See you tonight,’ I yelled and ran off to find Johnny.