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Mr Fisher

I was always quite good at spelling. At primary school, Becky and I were the ones that the teacher would send kids to when they couldn't spell a word, and as such I gained noteriety for being clever and, well - able to spell.

This continued through Prep School, and thus when I started at the main school my confidence came with me.

We were assigned a form tutor in the shape of Mr Fisher - a silver-haired, sharply intelligent, wiry man, with a quick wit, firm control, and a comparatively kindly manner.

Since we were now 13, and in the main school, we fancied ourselves as growing up - voices were starting to wobble - some had even dropped - hair was starting to spout in unsual places, and we were all very interested in girls and definitely not boys because that would be gay.

Our first lesson with Mr Fisher was in a dusty old room full of books, and he introduced himself to us saying he was going to check our level of competence with a quick spelling test.

Volunteers for the first test?

My hand shot up with enthusiasm.

"You, boy" said Mr Fisher, "What is your name?"

"A Vagabond, Sir" I replied politely.

"Up to the blackboard, lad" he instructed.

"Got this in the bag" I said smugly, to his calm gaze.

My word was that position which follows eleventh.

After five tries, he instructed me to return to my seat.

"Your enthusiasm is admirable, your arrogance is not" he said, "Never, ever lose your enthusiasm. I hope you have learned something today."

Indeed. I've learned to spell twelfth.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Mon 21 Mar 2011, 10:48, 6 replies)

But not notoriety or unusual.
(dolbster, Mon 21 Mar 2011, 11:12, closed)

*ticks box*
Thank you!
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Mon 21 Mar 2011, 11:17, closed)

[something derogatory and inflammatory about people who go to prep school]
My heart's just not in it this morning.
( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Mon 21 Mar 2011, 11:38, closed)

Indeed.
It won't be anything I've not been on the receiving end of before - some people seem to get very upset with me for the decisions my parents made about my education.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Mon 21 Mar 2011, 11:49, closed)

Typical prep school product. Always laying down the gauntlet.

( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Mon 21 Mar 2011, 12:32, closed)

We had a teacher in junior school
who obviously fancied herself as a bit of a spelling whizz. She held a weekly challenge, any pupil could challenge her to spell a word, and if she got it wrong she would give the pupil 10p. This would have been circa 1975 (I would have been 8 or 9), when you could buy a packet of fags and a can of tennents for 6p.

The rule was it had to be a word in everyday use.

So, lots of marmalade, wheelbarrow and acknowledgements later, one kid stands up and says 'this is a chemical farmers use. It's a popular word, as it is in the news quite a lot. It's DDT. The actual word is dichlorodiphenyltrichloroethane'

To give her credit, the teatcher sourly stated it wasn't a 'normal' word, he hadn't even pronounced it properly, and she wasn't going to try it. She then covered herself in further glory by chucking 5p at him, and cancelling the competition.
( Not Pineapple anymore, Mon 21 Mar 2011, 14:30, closed)