Bubbles Bolton

'Bubbles' was a short roundish fairly happy type of non-descript teacher. He too was much younger than most of his colleagues and had just suddenly arrived at King's without much fanfare. He didn't stand out in any particular way but he did teach Latin to some of the lower classes.

He acquired his nickname 'Bubbles' not because he bubbled with mirth, but because he had the propensity of showering his immediate speaking area and unfortunate students with tiny bubbles of spittle as he waxed eloquent. 'Bubbles' was completely oblivious to this not too endearing action. Often, those sitting under his shower area appeared to be swatting at invisible squadrons of midges or flies, and this caused him considerable puzzlement!

In actual fact they were endeavouring the keep dry. After a few liquid periods of 'amo, amas, amat', the entire front row was reduced to one 'gut' who I believe thought that the deluge was probably good for his acne.

Unfortunately, these precipitations caused James and others to emulate the grandmaster, and speak not in so many tongues, but experiment with many different spattering techniques. 'Bubbles' didn't see the funny side in such actions. At one stage of our vociferous rendition, he singled out two of us for analysis. I'm afraid my explanation fell a bit short of the mark and my colleague's was even less plausible.

Whatever... the final outcome was that we had to report to a small classroom situated somewhere above the staffroom later than afternoon.

Being prepared for the worst, we thought it prudent to be early so as not to over inflame his ire.

This we did, but then stupidly his ourselves behind a large cupboard adjacent to the door.

In strode Bubbles with cane in hand. He looked about but didn't see us. With head held high and in a very dignified voice he loudly cried, ''Namo!'' to the furniture that surrounded him.

This was too much for the fugitives who broke into stifled laughter. Unfortunately, this was a little too loud and Bubbles swung around and glared at the empty room. Crash, the cane slammed onto one of the desks. Things didn't look too rosy. We weren't laughing anymore and surrendered ourselves to his malevolent humour.

He seemed perplexed. I really think that he had hoped we wouldn't turn up. He was new to this game... Nevertheless he waved us over with a flourish of the stick and seemed very nervous indeed.

I feel that this spared us some considerable pain, as instead of touching our toes, he beckoned us to extend our hands. No bum thwacking this time; just a gentle twitch or two on the hand. This was a new experience for us and didn't hurt ver much at all. But then I think we were just plain lucky that he was a new 'teach'.