Angus McVicar reminisces in his memoir “Heather in My Ears (More Confessions of a Minister’s Son)”:
If we were caught fighting, Mr. James Inglis Morton, the schoolmaster, gave us the strap, and between one thing and another we had to endure a fair amount of bodily harm. We seldom discussed wounds and bruises with our parents, for the simple reason that my father would have applied the back of a hair-brush to our behinds if he’d known about their origin.
This is only page 2, my friends. What a way to start a book.