Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. Miss Baxter, her capable arms full of a large pile of text books, entered the staff room. Two of her colleagues were already comfortably seated in the only two half decent armchairs. A great crescendo of noise rose up from down below. Children's' voices shrill and excited could be clearly heard but the two occupants of the armchairs seemed unaware of any disturbance. The paraffin heater gave off a comforting heat on what had been a bitterly cold day. Outside, the playing fields were covered in a thick blanket of snow. "Which one of you two boys are going to sort out the riot taking place downstairs?" The boys in question were respectively fifty seven and sixty two. Even the younger of the two, Major Cartwright was easily twice Miss Baxter's age. In Miss Baxter's mind, men of all ages were still boys and should be treated as such, although she made an exception in the case of the Headmaster. If only more men were like the Headmaster the world would be a much finer place. The Major glanced up from reading yesterday's Daily Telegraph, his still smouldering pipe clenched firmly between his teeth. "What you can hear my dear is Dormitory Eight!" "I am perfectly well aware of which dormitory is causing the disturbance, Major" Without looking up from his detective novel the other occupant of the staff room, Mr Truce, said in mildly irritated voice, "Today young lady is the Last Night of Term. We have an understanding with the boys which goes back many, many years. Namely you don't bother us and we shan't bother you." "Does the Headmaster know of this arrangement?" she asked crossly. "As the Headmasters accommodation is nearly half a mile away from this part of the school I should say most probably not," he replied, smiling thinly. Mr Truce was dressed in a brown threadbare dressing gown, green striped pyjamas and wearing an outrageously bright orange bobble hat. He went back to reading his detective novel. "He is probably very busy composing an end of term sermon for the assembly tomorrow morning" Both Mr Truce and the Major chuckled, as if sharing a well worn joke. Miss Baxter fumed. "Well I suppose as neither of you are up to imposing some much needed discipline on the boys I shall have to go down and sort things out myself!" "Good luck!" sniggered Mr Truce. Miss Baxter put down her pile of books on the small coffee table, causing Mr Truce to nimbly move his resting feet before they were crushed. She glared at them both and turned to go. The Major stroked his luxurious black moustache thoughtfully. "Before you go my dear. You should look in that cupboard as you may find something you will later find extremely useful" "Oh yes. I shouldn't go down without that," chortled Mr Truce gleefully.. Miss Baxter hesitated, then finally curiousity compelled her to walk over to the cupboard. As far as she knew it was full of essentials, like tea, sugar and several packs of digestive biscuits. Surely the Major didn't expect her to bribe the boys with digestive biscuits? A well stocked cupboard was exactly what she found. At least twenty packets of finest Ceylon tea, six packets of digestive biscuits, six packets of garibaldi biscuits, a box of custard creams, several packets of sugar and a long thin cane. "Ah!" she said. She tucked the cane under her arm and marched out of the room just as a fresh wave of shrieking came up from down below. They heard the sharp click of her high heels as she walked across the corridor towards the staircase. The Major turned to the sports pages. "Damn fine filly that one! Splendid looking girl isn't she Truce!" "Honestly Major, you worry me sometimes! There is enough misery in the world without you adding to it and it would be a lifetime of misery for the poor sod that marries that one!" The Major yawned, lowered his newspaper and reaching into the side of the armchair pulled out a bottle. "Fancy something to keep the cold out?" "Don't mind if I do Major. Don't mind if I do!" He got up from the chair and sauntered over to the sink and picked up two chipped china cups, pouring a little of the amber liquid into each. He handed a cup to Mr Truce who grinned as he accepted it. "Cheers. I have just had an idea. You game for a laugh, Major?" "I may well be Truce. What's in that scheming mind of yours?" "May cost us a few bob!" "We have the wherewithal if the cause is a worthy one my dear fellow!" He leaned towards Mr Truce who in turn leaned towards the Major. "Are you aware of the name the boys have given Miss Baxter!" "Yes, Miss Smackyourbum isn't it?" chuckled the Major. "A well earned nickname I should say. The girl is already a legend at the school and she has only been here one term!" "You think she will cane the lot of them?" "I should say it was a certainty dear boy. A certainty! Look at her track record!" "Well can't say I feel sorry for the little swine! The boys are all the better for a good hard caning." "No, certainly not. More power to her elbow but I thought if we..................................." Down below in dormitory eight the pillow fight was in full swing. One of the pillows had been torn open and its feathery contents scattered over the floor. Hammond and Bennett had progressed from fighting with pillows to spraying each other with lemonade and one of the beds was on its side and being used as a barricade. The youngest boy in the dormitory, who was happily engaged in a wrestling match on the floor with two other boys was the first to notice the intruder. "Ooh Miss Baxter!" he said, his face a mask of horror. He looked as if he had just witnessed an invasion by some alien life form. She reached down and hoisted him up by firmly grasping him by the seat of his pyjamas. It was an undignified way to get to ones feet, even for a nine year old boy. Suddenly, the room which had some moments earlier been full of howling dervishes was now full of silent boys, almost standing to attention, looking as if butter wouldn't melt in their mouths. Miss Baxter's reputation as a keen student of the disciplinary arts had spread through the school like wildfire. Rumour had it that her bare bottom spankings were even more painful than the Headmasters canings. Now here she was with a slender cane tucked under her slender arm and a stern frown on her pretty face. "I will not tolerate this kind of behavior!" she stormed, she looked exactly like a wicked queen that had escaped from the lunatic asylum. She knew several of the boys by name, each one an obvious troublemaker. Their were of course a few faces she was unfamiliar with but doubtless they were troublemakers too! "Please Miss!" Said Hammond, nervously. "It's the Last Night of Term!" "We can do what we want on the Last Night of Term, Miss!" said Bennett morosely, a tall twelve year old who obviously fancied himself as a leader of men. He was almost as tall as Miss Baxter but he seemed to get smaller as she turned her penetrating gaze on him. "I think not Bennett as I shall now painfully demonstrate to you. Six of the best for each of you, except for Bennett. As he is obviously one of the ringleaders he can have an extra two strokes of the cane. Now does anyone else have anything further to say before we begin?" Fifteen pale faces gazed at her in mute horror. No their was no point in saying anything as the jury in this case had retired early. Only the hanging judge was left and she was testing the springiness of her cane by smacking it firmly against her palm. "Right boys you may form an orderly queue in the hallway outside. I am sure none of you will want to risk being caned twice!" she smiled. Anyone would have thought she was enjoying herself. As the boys were shuffling disconsolately out into the corridor, one of them, a blonde haired child of about ten whom she had recently seen energetically swiping all within range with a pillow, seemed to be in a hurry to leave. "Meadows isn't it?" she said, smiling, with a cruel light dancing in her eyes. "Yes Miss Baxter" he said, nervous as a cat. "Don't go Meadows!" "Sorry Miss Baxter" he stared at her like a mouse caught in a trap. It was the reason he was so anxious to leave. He didn't want to be the first. "I said don't go Meadows! Someone has got to be first Meadows and you are the lucky one. Go over there," she pointed with the cane." Take your dressing gown off, pull your pyjama bottoms down and bend over the end of the bed. No fidgeting either or you will earn extra smacks!" "Please Miss, can't I keep my pyjama bottoms on?" "Certainly not Meadows. You should have thought of the consequences before you misbehaved. The other dormitories didn't have pillow fights and cause a disturbance. All the most badly behaved boys in the same dormitory. I shall have a word with the Headmaster in the morning to see if some of you can't be moved to other more civilised dormitories. Now hurry up and get those pyjamas down Meadows and bend over. I promise I shan't let you get cold." The boys waiting in the hallway heard the sound of a thin springy cane making firm contact with a bare bottom. After each whack of the cane came a shrill howl of pain followed by muffled sobbing. Hammond, his face pale looked at Bennet who shrugged his shoulders. "It's only Meadows, he always blubs like a girl," said Bennett scornfully. Bennett's turn was next and he took his eight strokes in silence, although little beads of perspiration could be seen on his brow before the infliction was over. Hammond made almost as much fuss as Meadows despite being several years older. Miss Baxter soon got into a steady rhythm. The noise carried through to those awaiting there turn, thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack and then a little extra follow through on the last one, thwock. Each boy had six evenly spaced pink lines on his bottom by the time she was finished. The punishment was usually taken in something approaching silence but a few tears were shed. Strangely, Miss Baxter, despite her youth began to tire, surely she had reached the end of the queue but strangely their seemed to be so many boys. Some of the boys she had caned were actually ruefully grinning which was peculiar. All the boys she had caned were standing by the wall in a great long line with their hands on their heads! Although every now and then a boy would risk her ire by discretely rubbing his bottom. She counted the heads quickly, there were more than thirty boys! She had caned more than thirty boys! What on earth was happening? Another boy she didn't recognise was coming in! Surely their were only fifteen boys in dormitory eight! She walked briskly over to the door and peered into the corridor. A queue of at least thirty boys were patiently waiting to be caned. Behind her she heard a chuckle. Mr Truce and the Major were literally hugging each other with glee. Both weeping with merriment! The Major was laughing so much he had turned a rich beetroot colour and was in danger of choking. One of the waiting boys said gloomily. "I suppose we won't get the two shillings each we were promised now!" Suddenly she understood! Mr Truce and the Major had bribed these boys to be caned so they could make a complete fool of her! She was furious! How dare they, she was happy to deal severely with all boys, even those boys fast approaching their second childhoods! A cold rage almost made her explode with anger. She gripped the cane and strode towards the pair of still laughing schoolmasters. Mr Truce was the first one to see the danger but the gallant Major wasn't far behind, both were so eager to escape they collided with each other. Laurel and Hardy were never funnier than these two as they attempted a rapid exit. The boys in the hallway were able to see what was to become the most talked about incident in the schools long history with their own eyes. Something they will tell their grandchildren, (though if their grandchildren are sensible they wont believe a single word of it), Miss Baxter energetically lashing Mr Truce and Major Cartwright with a cane as they fled still howling (but no longer with laughter) up the stairs. The Major, who brought up the rear and had a plump target you couldn't easily miss, got the worst of it but she managed a few juicy cuts at Mr Truce before he reached the top of the stairs. And who was waiting for them at the top of the stairs having finished composing his sermon? The Headmaster, with a face like the grim reaper. "Miss Baxter, " he spoke as if he possessed the wrath of the righteous. "What is the meaning of this? The boys are all extremely well behaved yet I find three members of my staff engaged in the most ridiculous horseplay in full public view. I will see all three of you in my study in the morning without fail!" A long rousing cheer came up from the boys in the corridor below. Afterwards the party went on all night and no one came down the stairs to complain. Not even Miss Baxter!