Jacky Daydream
“We nicknamed him Brandy Balls. We weren’t being particularly rude. Brandy Balls were reddish aniseed sweets, very popular in the 1950s. Even so, no child ever called Mr Branson Brandy Balls to his face. We didn’t even call him Mr Branson. He was Sir, and we stood up when he came into the room, we stood up when he spoke to us, we stood up when we needed to speak to him, we stood up and stayed standing up, hands on head, if we’d been disobedient.
He wasn’t a dear gentle friend to us like Mr Towns...end. He was a teacher. I can’t remember him caning any of the boys but we were all frequently terrified of him. He had a habit of whacking you across the knuckles with a ruler if he felt you needed to get a move on with your writing. If you settled into a little daydream, he’d aim his sharpened chalk at you with surprising accuracy, so that it really stung. If you were ever unwise enough to yawn, you had to run round the playground five times to get some oxygen into your lungs. He urged you to go ‘Faster!MoreLess
He wasn’t a dear gentle friend to us like Mr Towns...end. He was a teacher. I can’t remember him caning any of the boys but we were all frequently terrified of him. He had a habit of whacking you across the knuckles with a ruler if he felt you needed to get a move on with your writing. If you settled into a little daydream, he’d aim his sharpened chalk at you with surprising accuracy, so that it really stung. If you were ever unwise enough to yawn, you had to run round the playground five times to get some oxygen into your lungs. He urged you to go ‘Faster!MoreLess
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