The Scribbler

One of the strategies used by prefects and monitors to maintain discipline and keep controlled subservience was to issue the poor unfortunate with 'lines'. Sometimes it was quite straight forward like - "I must not give buck to seniors", which took up one line on a page...or..."I must not be late for assembly". Short and apologetic elicited sentences were fine.

The use of monosyllabic words in one line sentences was encouraged by the unfortunates, but once the more complex and longer structures were encountered the punishment became more serious and problematic. Looking contrite and with bowed head, the supplicant would endeavour to get his oppressor to allow him to supply his own subservient prose. More often than not this ruse worked to his advantage.

Now James and many others often found themselves the centre of some very unwanted attention. Minor discrepancies such as being a little late for prep or slightly disheveled in appearance or some other trivial transgression could bring on a hundred lines of doggerel.

Sometimes however the monitor/prefect in their wisdom talked 'at' you with much zeal and made life easier by actually asking you to form your own prose in order to eliminate or exorcise some perceived wrong doing. Now if you had no plan of action, you'd probably shrug your shoulders and mumble something that might lumber you with some long-winded incongruous sentences that could cover three or four lines.

This was a definite NO! NO!

You see, this little black duck had thought out a procedure that would cut 90% of the drudgery out of 100 lines of imposition.

Step 1 Ensure the 100 lines were made up of repeated one liners.

Step 2 - Profess true penance and seek these words as forming the basis of your reform (those in power love this perceived attitude).

Step 3 - Quietly and surreptitiously enlist the aid of "Scribbler”.

"Scribbler" was not necessarily a first off invention, although its adaptation to circumvent the problem of writer's cramp was to be applauded by many a luckless pre-weaner. Its main parts consisted of an old ruler and ten stubby pencils. A small hole boring implement was used to auger ten equally spaced pencil sized holes down the length of the ruler. Each hole was carefully crafted to be exactly the width of a line on a page.

To obviate the tiresome writing out of so many lines the then stubby pencils were now carefully wedged into these holes. By holding the contraption firmly in one's hand and lining up the first line on the page accurately, it was possible to write ten lines instead of one! In little or no time 100 lines was completed much to the delight of the scribe. It was neat and efficient.

I'll quickly intercede before you ask, "Didn't all the lines look identical?, to which the answer is "Yes". Fortunately the powers-that-be didn't scrutinise the efforts too closely. It was beneath them to give you credit for neatness! After all, they had demonstrated their power and the proletariat had obliged, so everyone was more or less happy.

It doesn't take much gumption to realize why writing out a hundred lines from Psalm 23 was a real pain in the butt.