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by Muir and Norden, from the 1959 LP "Songs for Swinging Sellers".

 

 

Father:

I have been trying to get my son into a good school. After trying Winchester, Marlborough and Charterhouse, I was recommended to send him to that great British public school, Cretinby. Now some of you may never've heard of Cretinby, in the heart of the swamp country - difficult place to get into, and harder still to get out of. I motored down there the following day.

Vintage engine effects, and blasts on two bulb-horns.

Father:

I was shown into the Headmaster's study.

Servant:

Come into the 'eadmaster's study Sir, would you - e'll be dahn in a minute.

sound of footsteps, locks, bolts and chains, terminating in a cage door being shut

Headmaster:

Good afternoon, I am the Headmaster. Are you a parent?

Father:

Well I - er - I have a small son.

Headmaster:

I detest evasiveness. What age is he?

Father:

He's eight.

Headmaster:

Eight! Only eight! The awkward age - too old for Mother Goose and too young for Lolita. Here is my brochure - just glance through it for a few moments, would you?

Father:

Well, that's very interesting, there's a photograph of the school. Oh, I say, the fire-escape doesn't look very safe in this picture.

a distant class can be heard reciting multiplication tables...

Headmaster:

It's a lot safer in the picture than it is on the building.

Father:

Is it examined every week?

Headmaster:

It's used every week.

Father:

Unh - tell me, is the school co-educational?

Headmaster:

You can't baffle me with long words.

Father:

I mean - er - do the boys and girls share the same curriculum?

Headmaster:

No, we had separate ones built.

Father:

Well how do you segregate the sexes?

Headmaster:

If you must know, I go round with a crowbar, and prise them apart.

Father:

Oh dear - I don't think this will suit my Basil. You see, he's very sensitive, and he's never been separated from his mother.

Headmaster:

He hasn't? Have you read what Havelock Ellis has to say about that?

Father:

No.

Headmaster:

Then I'll show you - it's disgusting.

Father:

Uh - well, I don't think I'll see it now.

Headmaster:

Then I'll send you a copy in the plain wrapper - no-one would know.

Father:

Erm - I have to tell you that my boy is very delicate and there is something I would like to know: are your dormitories dry?

Headmaster:

They are after 11pm, and then they get drinks if they buy sandwiches.

Father:

I see. Tell me, what types of pupil do you have here?

Headmaster:

We have two types of pupil, Class A and Class B. At meal times the Class B boys get priority.

Father:

And the Class A Boys?

Headmaster:

They get food.

Father:

You mean to tell me that the Class B boys don't eat?

Headmaster:

I never pry into their private lives. Perhaps you'd like to see one of our typical pupils. (calls) Farnsworth? Fa-arnsworth!

Farnsworth:

(treble) Coming sir!

Headmaster:

This is Farnsworth, one of our better eight-year-olds - he is twenty-nine. You may go, Farnsworth.

Farnsworth:

Thank you, sir.

Headmaster:

Hurry along.

Father:

Tell me, the teaching - the books - is that on the Montessori system?

Headmaster:

Sometimes, but I find most people prefer to pay cash.

Father:

Oh. So you have no syllabus of your own.

Headmaster:

I don't think it concerns you how I choose to spend my leisure. As it happens, we are just good friends.

Father:

Unh, mh, it all seems very confusing. Your answers aren't a bit like the ones I received from the Headmaster at Winchester.

Headmaster:

Oh! You've been hawking your brat around, have you?

Father:

No, no - it's not that - it's just that I want something to suit his personality. I'm looking for something... progressive.

Headmaster:

We encourage children to be children: you may not realise it, Sir, but some of our greatest men started life as children.

We hear a school bell

Headmaster:

Ah! There goes the bell for Prep. One of the subjects we specialise in, Prep. Some of my boys speak it like a native.

Father:

Well, Mr Headmaster, I'm going to be brutally frank with you. Have you got a record of juvenile delinquency?

Headmaster:

Singing what?

Father:

No, I want something to prove to me that the boys here have strengthened their personality.

Headmaster:

Well, perhaps you would like to hear the School Choir. Miss Pringle, I wonder of you would oblige.

Miss Pringle plays a short piano introduction and the choir sings a dreadful version of "Nymphs and Shepherds" - while we creep away...