SIR CHRISTOPHER WREN TECHNICAL HIGH SCHOOL
Table Tennis by L. Swann (Form 2A)
Table tennis is a game of skill which needs much concentration. Our table tennis club was started in 1956 and there are meetings on Wednesdays and Fridays and the fee is 3d. per week.
A competition was held to see who was the best player. There were 32 entrants and each paid 3d. an entry fee. The two finalists are Mr. Martin and Spradbury and the chances on this game are even.
These championship matches were played on nights other than club nights and during dinner breaks. The table tennis table was made at the new Queen’s Gardens workshop, and has helped to raise the standard of play considerably during the year. The use of Room 3 for a tuck shop and games room has been much appreciated and it is hoped that it will be used for the same purposes next term.
A Dialogue between a highwayman and his victim by Christopher Marrow (Form 2A)
Out of the growing darkness of the chilly November evening the courteous young man in grey raincoat remarked “It’s cold for the time of year, sir” ”I daren’t complain”, retorted a rather small thin man, dressed in a bowler hat, black coat and who carried an umbrella. “What do you mean by saying “dare not complain”?” queried the young man as he pushed back his trilby over his greasy scalp.
“I dare not complain as I know there are hundreds of people, young people like yourself too, who are not as well able to withstand this weather as we are. No man can tell what is round the corner,” the old man answered simply and sincerely.
At this the young man spoke severely with more than a touch of bitterness as well as pride in his voice. “You talk to me of hardship but little do you know what it is. I am an orphan. My mother was killed in the blitz. My father - well I won’t mention much about him. Well, what does it matter? You’re a stranger anyway and I’ll never see you again. He’s a crook, a criminal. He’s doing a long ‘stretch’ in Dartmoor. I’ve tried to get work. Each time as soon as my circumstances are known, I am sacked. I’ve got to live - and it is not an easy way”
“People can be cruel - if there is anything I can possibly………”
“Yes, put your hands up and carry on walking.”
“What is the meaning of this?”
“Shut your mouth. When a man has to tighten his belt he’s ready for anything - yes, for anything. I have a gun in my pocket and I don’t train it on your back for fun.”
“So I’m the victim of a robbery.”
“Call it that if you like”
The old man turned to see the face of his companion. “you’re the vicar,” the young man said in surprise.
The old man nodded in agreement.
“That don’t make no difference. You’ve got money and I still need it.” Said the youth clumsily, at the same time jabbing his gun into the vicar’s back. “I saw you handle a wad of notes as you came out of the bank.”
The vicar agreed. “The money I received from the bank was the money subscribed by my poor parishioners over a long period.”
“Subscribed or not it still is good cash and it’ll do an orphan like me. What were you planning to do with it?”
“As a matter of fact I was going to use it for an orphanage. Bills for running and repairs need to be met.” The vicar replied with a kind smile on his face.
They crossed over the Dock Bridge and the vicar noticed tears were rolling down the penitent youth’s face. With a sudden jerk he hurled his ugly weapon into the water below. The vicar patted him on his back and said reassuringly, “Well done, my lad. I hope you will never need one again.” The youth turned and disappeared in the darkness.
“No man can tell what is round the corner. You know where to come,” the old man called after him anxiously.
Cricket report by I. Clark and G. Spradbery (Form 1B)
The first match we played was against Fifth Avenue Youth Club. The pitch was not up to normal standard. Winning the toss we decided to let our opponents bat on a dry wicket. There were not the team we expected and they just went in to hit out. This was a better method than ours for we went in and blocked them. Parker and Thompson bowled well on a lifeless pitch. Woodger took the advice given and went in for a swing, scoring 11 in about 5 minutes. The victory was theirs by 48 runs.
We asked them for a home match and if all our players had turned up we might have won. They went in to bat again but were not doing so well as their first 3 wickets fell for 4 runs. They knocked up a good score - about 70. Sutton took 4 for 30 runs, Clark took 3 for 20. Spradberry scored 21 runs with some good strokes.
Our opening pair let us down, both getting ducks. Inman took some good catches as wicketkeeper. We arranged a match with Holy Trinity but they never turned up then again another match was fixed but rain stopped us playing. We are trying to arrange others in which we hope to win.
The excursion to York, 1956
Whilst on the occasion the School made no record-breaking attempts upon mileage covered, the excursion was nevertheless a great success. One whose mind is alert and who takes an interest in his fellows does not require to travel far to achieve pleasure - rather does he find it neat to hand, and often overlooked.
Buses, boys and a day away from school routine form a happy combination. Not even the lecture hall at St. John’s College, York, could quite damped the spirits, nor the photographs of skeletons, coffins and funeral pass a morbid cloud over the whole day.
Mr. Peter Wenham, who delivered the lecture prior to the tour of archaeological sites, interested and amused the boys. When walking around York observing ancient walls, ruins, and examining relics of a long-passed military glory, one could not help but sense the atmosphere created - time seemed to have no meaning, and it might have been only days since York rattled to the chariots’ wheels, so absorbing were the descriptive details.
Modern York suffered a further invasion that day (thankfully not recorded in any official records!), and judging by the booty which returned to Hull, the town had been pillaged.
It would be interesting to know how few stones of York were left un-turned by “The Builders”. Certainly they pried into every nook and cranny, and later many took their observations from afloat. The very obvious lack of oarsmanship showed that either the sea does not “run in the blood”, or that it had completely run out! One mast5er, upon embarking, has a moment of embarrassment when it became obvious he did not know which way to sit. Eventually he faced the “blunt end” correctly. Another master proved his war-time record……….. there was a suggestion that he should have served in submarines, and at one time we thought he was about to do so! There is much to be said for the stability of things uncertain, after all, for nobody had to be fished out.
Table tennis is a game of skill which needs much concentration. Our table tennis club was started in 1956 and there are meetings on Wednesdays and Fridays and the fee is 3d. per week.
A competition was held to see who was the best player. There were 32 entrants and each paid 3d. an entry fee. The two finalists are Mr. Martin and Spradbury and the chances on this game are even.
These championship matches were played on nights other than club nights and during dinner breaks. The table tennis table was made at the new Queen’s Gardens workshop, and has helped to raise the standard of play considerably during the year. The use of Room 3 for a tuck shop and games room has been much appreciated and it is hoped that it will be used for the same purposes next term.
A Dialogue between a highwayman and his victim by Christopher Marrow (Form 2A)
Out of the growing darkness of the chilly November evening the courteous young man in grey raincoat remarked “It’s cold for the time of year, sir” ”I daren’t complain”, retorted a rather small thin man, dressed in a bowler hat, black coat and who carried an umbrella. “What do you mean by saying “dare not complain”?” queried the young man as he pushed back his trilby over his greasy scalp.
“I dare not complain as I know there are hundreds of people, young people like yourself too, who are not as well able to withstand this weather as we are. No man can tell what is round the corner,” the old man answered simply and sincerely.
At this the young man spoke severely with more than a touch of bitterness as well as pride in his voice. “You talk to me of hardship but little do you know what it is. I am an orphan. My mother was killed in the blitz. My father - well I won’t mention much about him. Well, what does it matter? You’re a stranger anyway and I’ll never see you again. He’s a crook, a criminal. He’s doing a long ‘stretch’ in Dartmoor. I’ve tried to get work. Each time as soon as my circumstances are known, I am sacked. I’ve got to live - and it is not an easy way”
“People can be cruel - if there is anything I can possibly………”
“Yes, put your hands up and carry on walking.”
“What is the meaning of this?”
“Shut your mouth. When a man has to tighten his belt he’s ready for anything - yes, for anything. I have a gun in my pocket and I don’t train it on your back for fun.”
“So I’m the victim of a robbery.”
“Call it that if you like”
The old man turned to see the face of his companion. “you’re the vicar,” the young man said in surprise.
The old man nodded in agreement.
“That don’t make no difference. You’ve got money and I still need it.” Said the youth clumsily, at the same time jabbing his gun into the vicar’s back. “I saw you handle a wad of notes as you came out of the bank.”
The vicar agreed. “The money I received from the bank was the money subscribed by my poor parishioners over a long period.”
“Subscribed or not it still is good cash and it’ll do an orphan like me. What were you planning to do with it?”
“As a matter of fact I was going to use it for an orphanage. Bills for running and repairs need to be met.” The vicar replied with a kind smile on his face.
They crossed over the Dock Bridge and the vicar noticed tears were rolling down the penitent youth’s face. With a sudden jerk he hurled his ugly weapon into the water below. The vicar patted him on his back and said reassuringly, “Well done, my lad. I hope you will never need one again.” The youth turned and disappeared in the darkness.
“No man can tell what is round the corner. You know where to come,” the old man called after him anxiously.
Cricket report by I. Clark and G. Spradbery (Form 1B)
The first match we played was against Fifth Avenue Youth Club. The pitch was not up to normal standard. Winning the toss we decided to let our opponents bat on a dry wicket. There were not the team we expected and they just went in to hit out. This was a better method than ours for we went in and blocked them. Parker and Thompson bowled well on a lifeless pitch. Woodger took the advice given and went in for a swing, scoring 11 in about 5 minutes. The victory was theirs by 48 runs.
We asked them for a home match and if all our players had turned up we might have won. They went in to bat again but were not doing so well as their first 3 wickets fell for 4 runs. They knocked up a good score - about 70. Sutton took 4 for 30 runs, Clark took 3 for 20. Spradberry scored 21 runs with some good strokes.
Our opening pair let us down, both getting ducks. Inman took some good catches as wicketkeeper. We arranged a match with Holy Trinity but they never turned up then again another match was fixed but rain stopped us playing. We are trying to arrange others in which we hope to win.
The excursion to York, 1956
Whilst on the occasion the School made no record-breaking attempts upon mileage covered, the excursion was nevertheless a great success. One whose mind is alert and who takes an interest in his fellows does not require to travel far to achieve pleasure - rather does he find it neat to hand, and often overlooked.
Buses, boys and a day away from school routine form a happy combination. Not even the lecture hall at St. John’s College, York, could quite damped the spirits, nor the photographs of skeletons, coffins and funeral pass a morbid cloud over the whole day.
Mr. Peter Wenham, who delivered the lecture prior to the tour of archaeological sites, interested and amused the boys. When walking around York observing ancient walls, ruins, and examining relics of a long-passed military glory, one could not help but sense the atmosphere created - time seemed to have no meaning, and it might have been only days since York rattled to the chariots’ wheels, so absorbing were the descriptive details.
Modern York suffered a further invasion that day (thankfully not recorded in any official records!), and judging by the booty which returned to Hull, the town had been pillaged.
It would be interesting to know how few stones of York were left un-turned by “The Builders”. Certainly they pried into every nook and cranny, and later many took their observations from afloat. The very obvious lack of oarsmanship showed that either the sea does not “run in the blood”, or that it had completely run out! One mast5er, upon embarking, has a moment of embarrassment when it became obvious he did not know which way to sit. Eventually he faced the “blunt end” correctly. Another master proved his war-time record……….. there was a suggestion that he should have served in submarines, and at one time we thought he was about to do so! There is much to be said for the stability of things uncertain, after all, for nobody had to be fished out.