Richard pulled up his undies very carefully over his sore red bottom, and then his shorts, and once his new governess had gone, rubbed and rubbed, but it still hurt a lot.
He thought about what she had said; he liked drawing, but hated writing, and of course, he wasn’t forced to do anything he didn’t like.
And he still had to find a way to show that she didn’t scare him, not one little bit!
The memory of that martinet made him go to find some paper, pencil and crayons, and he placed them on the table.
He pushed a chair up to the table and sat down.
He got up again quickly.
His bottom was too sore to sit on a hard wooden chair, he’d have to do his drawing standing.
Tongue slightly protruding, he started.
He was quite good at drawing, and had soon done the outline of a few apples in a bowl.
Rosey apples she had said. He took a red crayon and partly coloured in the apples; not all over, just a section, he didn’t want totally bright red apples.
For the first time after his spankings, he found himself smiling. He was actually enjoying himself, and he chuckled when he wondered if the rosey part of the apples was lighter or darker than his bottom, much lighter he guessed.
Once the apples themselves were finished, he added green stalks, and stood thinking for a moment what colour to do the bowl.
Then he remembered that he had only got half an hour; he had no idea how much time had already passed, and he hadn’t done any writing! He quickly coloured the bowl in yellow.
He had to start the writing quickly. What had she said, something about how healthy apples are!
He didn’t know if apples were healthy or not, but he had once eaten too many and got a sore tummy. But, he vaguely remembered someone once saying, an apple a day keeps the doctor away.
That would do!
He took the pencil and laboriously wrote:
“An aple a day keps the doktor away. That meens they ar helthy!”
He has just put his pencil down when the governess walked back in.
Finished? she asked.
Let me have a look!
She studied the drawing.
She then looked at the writing.
This is terrible she said angrily. Spelling is atrocious. I can count...five, no six spelling mistakes.
She sat down on the chair and pulled Richard towards her.
She took the martinet out of her bag again.
So, six spelling mistakes,... I think six strokes of this martinet on your bare bottom would be fair, don’t you?