The Dead Fish Pond

I have always been a lover of creatures great and small. Some of them even included humans, though sometimes they were quite difficult to love...especially if their zeal and ardour was spite driven. Many seniors, monitors and prefects fell into this last category. Over-all they were self-centered and completely engaged in double standards whilst you trod a straight and narrow line.

As a newby (new boy), I decided, with the housemaster's permission, to install an old concrete toilet cistern into the ground at the back of Meister Omers, directly below a third floor window. This was to be a fish pond. It took up very little space, measuring about 60cm by 30cm.

Carefully I arranged rocks and stones not only in it, but around it and filled it with water. Even if I say so myself it was quite "neat". In the pond I placed some tadpoles, weeds and stickle- backs netted from the Stour River further up-stream from Canterbury.

The small display was shaded by holly-hocks planted by the school groundsman to make the back yard look more loved. He encouraged me in my activity as I think it left him less area to maintain.

Despite this, he was an approachable older man with a happy disposition. He was indeed a true country man. I can still see him now with his rough peaked cloth cap, fustian tweed jacket and long baggy trousers gathered in at the bottom leg by string. This ensemble covered a pair of large 'clod-hoppers' (or heavy work boots). A tie, yes a tie, a shirt and an eight button waistcoat augmented by a 'fob' watch and chain completed his heavily scented attire.

Winter and summer, his garb was the same. He was a tall, broad shouldered man with an ever ready happy smile and spoke with a very pronounced Cornish (I think) accent. Sometimes when speaking, I found it difficult to understand him.

Here's some of his verbiage - "Av bin ere mor'n tinty 'ears and I've ne'r seen ah bhoy such interested in frug n' fissies". Which translates as - "I've been here for more than twenty years and I've never seen a boy so interested in frogs and fishes". Whatever, he was a pleasant man and deigned to talk to us lesser mortals.

The pond only lasted a few weeks that first year. For some reason, the water would turn yellow, as small burnt paper strip contaminants appeared, and all living things perished. It was sad to see the once bright red and green male stickle-backs floating belly-up with open mouth.

What was wrong with my aquarium pond?

Sleuthing and observation and deduction were eventually to solve the riddle....

One evening as I arranged and cultivated the pond environs and proudly watched a new batch of male stickle-backs nest building (they built weed type tunnels into which they lured the drab coloured females), a small glowing fag (cigarette) end tumbled out of the window above, directly into the pond.

"Plop!" There was the answer. Nicotine poisoning!

I hot-footed it up to the prefects study and knocked on the door. Under normal circumstances this was the last place you want to visit unless scourging was your fetish! There was a subliminal scuffle as I heard the steel framed window being hurriedly opened accompanied by the sound of paper slapping and furtive whispering.

"Who is it"? queried one of the inmates. "Me", said I with the wisdom of a half moron. Ahh, they knew they were safe. It certainly wasn't 'Prog-nosed Pryor', the housemaster! With a sudden surge, the study door flew open, and two rather ugly, annoyed but obviously relieved prefects emerged through a background of dense blue smoke.

To cut to the chase; a few well directed threats caused James to bite his tongue and feign blindness. Olfactory senses were denied together with the vision of a pack of "Players" tucked behind a large book which looked amazingly like a bible.

Nothing was seen, heard or smelt...nothing. Anything else was consigned to the inactive stunned portion of the brain that still wished to stay alive.

And so it was; the little patch of paradise below the study window ceased to exist, snuffed out by the self-centered peevish powers-that-be.