My kindly Housemaster, giving his final caning recently, spawned the idea of a somewhat less loveable colleague also taking his retirement, leaving a legacy for his successor.

The handwritten note in the sealed envelope in the desk drawer of the Housemaster’s study would list of those on their ‘final warnings’. Young Samantha’s first report card of the following term might fall short – again – of the expected standards, but he was no longer here, and the slate would have been wiped clean with her new Housemaster.

Her face would drain of colour as the letter was taken out, opened, read, confirming that she had been told most clearly at the end of the summer term that “in my opinion, any further poor performance would suggest that a sound caning would be both necessary and helpful.”