Molesworth Read online

  1

  BACK TO SKOOL AGANE!

  This is wot it is like when we go back on the skool trane. There are lots of new bugs and all there maters blub they hav every reason if they knew what they were going to. For us old lags however it is just another stretch same as any other and no remision for good conduc. We kno what it will be like at the other end Headmaster beaming skool bus ratle off leaving trail of tuck boxes peason smugling in a box of flat 50 cigs fotherington-tomas left in the lugage rack and new bugs stand as if amazed. Skool now smell not only of chalk latin books skool ink foopball boots and birdseed but carbolic soap as well. White jugs stand in rows in the dorms and various weeds are about the place looking unaturaly clean and civilised. Who knows what adventures in work and pla the next term will bring forth. And who cares, eh?

  2

  HOW TO SUCCEED AS

  A NEW BUG

  New bugs are wets and weeds their mummies blub when they kiss them goodby while seniors such as me hem-hem stand grimly by licking their slobering chops. No more dolies or William the bear to cuddle and hug, no more fairy stories at nanny’s knee it is all aboard the fairy bus for the dungeons. You hav to hav a bit of patience but once the trane moves out the little victims are YOURS. You put them in the lugage rack with molesworth 2.

  Paters at the moment are patting the blubing maters.

  ‘It is all right old gurl,’ they sa. ‘Skools are not wot they were in my day. Boys are no longer cruel to each other and the masters are frends.’

  ‘But my Eustace hav been taken away. He is only a baby.’

  (You are dead right he is. Fancy sending him to skool with a name like Eustace. They deserve it all.)

  Pater stare at his glass of gin reflectively. It will be peaceful at home now. He can relax at the weekends and if it is a good skool Eustace will soon be strong and brany enuff to bring in the coal. He sa:

  ‘Now in my day it was diferent. When i first went to Grunts they tosted me on a slo fire. Then i ran the gauntlet being flicked with wet towels. Then they stood me aganst the mantelpeace as i am standing now—’

  BANG! CRASH!

  Mater gives him sharp uper cut folowed by right cross then zoom up to bed leaving pater wondering why women are so unpredictable. Glumly he pours himself another gin.

  MEANWHILE AT ST CUSTARDS . . . . . .

  Eustace hav been trussed to a chair and a pair of socks are stuffed in his mouth to stifle his desperate cries. ‘Now,’ sa molesworth the Pukon ‘we will submit you to three trillion volts of the nuclear torturer.’…

  DOWN BELOW IN THE STUDY . . . . . .

  Tinkle, tinkle.

  Is that the telephone, my dere?

  Nothing else go tinkle, tinkle, swetehart, unless it be the photograph of that repulsive old custardian in its brite silver frame. Shall I answer?

  Pray do.

  Tinkle, tink—

  It is mrs togglington to enquire after Eustace. Oh yes he hav setled down very well. He was as quiet and as good as a lamb.

  (Thinks: Which one was he?)

  Yes, there is no need to wory. He hav no spots his head do not ache his knok knees hav given him no trouble. He is as far as we kno unlikely to develop a disease tonite. He hav changed his socks and cleaned his fangs. I have put him in the charge of a v. reliable boy e.g. dere little nigel molesworth.

  Eustace mater ring off very relieved cheers cheers and telephone all the other lades about it. Headmaster and wife continue to make wool rug. Masters shiver in their cells. An owl hoot and Eustace is insensible. St custard’s hav begun another term.

  TEKNEEK FOR NEW BUGS

  HOW NOT TO SUCCEED

  New bug is lying back in best chair in the library in portion of the room reserved for prefects. He is eating sweets. Head of the skool enters who hav been chosen for his qualities of leadership devotion to st custard’s ect. In other words he is grabber and joly tuough.

  GRABBER: You hav a face like a flea and you could not lift a cucumber.

  new bug (with a yawn): Tu quoque, oaf. You also hav a face like a flea and could not lift wot the french call a concombre.

  GRABBER: Do you kno who you are talking to?

  new bug: Can it be stalin?

  GRABBER: i am head of the skool captin of games martial of the squash courts custodian of shooting and garter principal of the natural history museum.

  new bug: So what? i am not impressed by wot I hav seen around here. The old brigade hav been in too long. There hav got to be changes. The younger generation is knoking at the door hav some buble gum.

  GRABBER: Wot’s your name?

  new bug: the lord cedric furnival crabthorn percy constance charles plunk. (He blows a balloon in his buble gum cooly) you may call me pongo.

  (Exit.)

  SUCCESS

  In order to sukceed all new bugs should take a vow of silence for i year. When a senior pass they should lie down and let him walk over them. They should ofer swetes saing go on take the whole bag. They must clean shoes and think of pleasing others. They should not shout molesworth is a grate big wet and then run away to matron.

  Aktualy you canot ever get new bugs to behave like that and the best thing is to avoid them. If you get put in charge of them it is like a film of sno white all in technicolour or 3D or something.

  new bugs are all sitting on toadstools in forest plaing with lambs and deers. Birds flit about. Enter molesworth growling and cursing.

  come here you horrid ticks!

  (All cower the forest goes dark.)

  do you hear me ticks. You will all get six!

  A robin: tweet!

  who said that? i will bash the lot of you. i will utterly tuough you up.

  (Thunder: all the new bugs deer and lambs run away. Litening pla around my horns.)

  get your handiwork cracking produce your plastissene for free xpresion and the other wedy things you do.

  (i catch a new bug and let him dance on the palm of my hand.)

  a new bug: you are not tuough.

  Wot me?

  a new bug: you hav a hart of gold.

  Discovered! Curses!

  a new bug: won’t you pla with us?

  No!

  a new bug: Come on fellers he won’t hurt you he is a grate big sham.

  All: hee-hee-hee-hee! They dance back with lambs and robins. The sun come out and i find myself singing a song with them chiz chiz chiz chiz chiz.

  Rake’s Progress

  1. this is parkinson. I want you to help him settle down.

  2. Here is your desk, parkinson.

  3. Here are some sums. Let us see if you can add.

  4.

  5.

  6.

  7.

  8.

  HOW TO WRITE HOME

  New bugs often canot write xcept this way:—

  However miss pringle soon lick them into shape. She get out her gat and sa: You may look like a lot of new-born babes in yore first grey shorts but it won’t wash with me. I am going to hav it MY way. O.K. let’s go. All the gifts of sno-drops, aples sweets and ginger biskits do not alter her iron purpose. Before long a new bug can do in his copybook

  And finally

  He is now in the same spot as the rest of us he hav to write home on Sunda. You would think that this precious link between skool and our dear ones would be cherished by all boys. In fact, let us face it, boys do not like writing home chiz and for a joly good reason. There is nothing to sa. Why ? Because the truth is so shoking and unspekable that no parent could stand it on a Monday morning. So we hav to gloss it over as it is no use upseting your mater particularly at brekfast on Monday morning.

  New bugs when they start writing leters are inclined to be emotional chiz they are a lot of sissies:—

  st. custard’s,

  Darling mama, darling papa,

  i mis you very much. i am lonly. plees kiss my gollywog. never did I apreciate so much the joys and comforts of home life. To think that i was rud to grandad that i scremed when i was told to
hav a bath. And how many times hav i refused to come in and go to bed. O woe. Kiss my gollywog agane.

  Yours fathefuly

  binkie.

  nb you had beter kiss grandad too. Or not. As you plese.

  After a bit, though, a new bug gets over this sort of stuff. i mean gollywogs and tedy bears, I ask you! i would not be suprised if som of them hav not a doll which say Mama Mama and go to slepe. Aktualy some toys are not bad. i had a super monkey called spinach of whom (grammer) i was very fond, i would always go to slepe with it nestling on my pilow and . . . . . . . . . . . . CHIZ! CURSES! wot am i saying?

  Leters home in the end develop into a contest between parent and weeny one which come into a full crescendo in middle-life hem-hem as they sa in some of the sunda papers. Note the cooling of the ardour. O woe agane but that is the tragedy nb paters and maters we still luv you reely. Beter than our gollywogs anyway.

  LETER:

  st. custard’s

  Sunda.

  Dearest Mummy (and Daddy)

  We played aganst porridge court on Saturday. We lost 9 – 0. The film was a western. Will you send me a bakterial gun. They are 6/6 at grabbers.

  With love from

  Nigel.

  ANSER:

  Barleywaters.

  Clotshire.

  Monda

  My dearest darling most beloved nigel,

  It was marvelous super to get your lovely long leter with all its news. I have telephoned grabbers to send the gun. Are you taking your lozenges? Please let me kno. Wot a shame about porridge court i xpect you will win next year. [hem-hem, not a hope]. There is very litle to tell you. the snodrops are out and yore father is in a filthy temper but these facts hav nothing to do with each other. Do not forget, darling, to let me kno about the lozenges

  Your fondest superest ever-loving

  Mummy.

  P.S. Don’t forget about the lozenges, darling.

  LETER:

  st. custard’s.

  Sunda.

  Dear Mummy and Daddy,

  We played aganst howler house on Saturday. We lost 9 – 0. The film was micky mouse. Thank you for the bakterial gun. Will you send me a jet-propeled airship. (17/6)

  Love from

  nigel.

  ANSER:

  Barleywaters, Clotshire.

  My ever-darlingest superest most smashing and admired son Nigel,

  Your letter was a wonderful surprise and so full of news. Your handriting hav improved beyond mesure. You did not mention about the lozenges darling will you be sure and let me kno next time. Do not wory too much about your lessons i kno you are doing your best. The crocus are out now but yore father is still in a filthy temper so i hav ordered the jet-propeled airship myself. Don’t forget about the lozenges and Gollywog send his love.

  Your most tremendously affectionate divinely superly

  adoring mater

  Mummy

  p.s don’t forget about the lozenges.

  LETER:

  st. custard’s

  Sunda.

  Mummy,

  (A) v poopwell hall. Lost 6 – 0.

  (B) tarzan of the apes.

  (C) a self-propelling car (£125 – 0 – 0.)

  Yrs.

  nigel.

  OTHER CORESPONDENCE

  Of course we do not only get leters from our parents. There are leters from gurl friends and the ushual sekretarial mail as hon. sec of the youth club hem-hem. There are also those leters which you put away hastily after reading the first line. e.g. Dere molesworth, Yore overdraft facilities are due for review. – or 2/- each way Claptrap. You win o. You lose 4/- prompt setlement will enable us to kepe our books in order. All of these are a chiz and on the whole no good comes of them. let us pass to more siggnificant things.

  FOR THE TINIES

  Some new bugs are so well educcated at their dame skools that they can read when they get to st custards. They will soon forget after a term or 2 give them time give them time. Meanwhile their ever-loving parents send them maggazines and storybooks every thursday chiz to keep alite the dying flame of kulture.

  Price 6d. Published by grabber and grabber, who would luv

  to give it away to the tinies. Indeed they would if it were not

  that the little ones must learn that it is only by your own

  eforts that suksess is won in life hem-hem ask old mr grabber.

  THE ADVENTURES OF DIPPY-DOPEY

  Dippy-Dopey love–s his cat. He br–ings the cat m–ilk. The cat wishes some–thing strong–er. mee-aouw he sa mee-aouw give me a ry–e on the rocks so c–old that it would fr–eeze an esk–i–mo ig–loo. Ver–y well sa Dippy-Dopey i will try be–cos i luv my cat. Dippy-Dopey runs to town on the toy–land trane. He goes to his old friend Trash, who is a dis–rep–u–table li–on. i want a rye-on-the-rocks for the cat cry Dippy-Dopey. Growl sa Trash i will fix that id–le fo–ol good and pro–per. He k–nock up a white–e lad–y in a jif–fy. Dippy-Dopey run back into the woods with the liq–uid. Where you been sa the cat where you been pour me out a slug quick–ly. He drinks it back. He drinks a–noth–er. And a–noth–er. Now we can go to sleep sa Dippy-Dopey.

  St Custard’s Explaned

  A small experiment in piktorial education for clots who don’t kno about it. Designed and produced by n. molesworth

  1. The peason-molesworth space ship threatened by wild mercurian maths masters lies disabled in the onion bed of the kitchen garden.

  2. Meanwhile in the master’s common room. Sigismund arbuthnot the mad maths master musters his rhomboids.

  3. Time off for tea and seed cake. That is peason on the left he is not bad he is my grate friend. My bro molesworth 2 is eating cake as per ushual he is uterly wet and a weed. The other one is me Captain molesworth the interplanetary clot cheers cheers.

  4. A new recruit for the hard-pressed crew. Aktually it is only fotherington-tomas you kno he sa Hullo clouds hullo sky he is a girlie and love the scents and sounds of nature tho the less i smell and hear them the better.

  5. Wandsworth the skool dog trots up with the missing fusion percolater in his fatheful jaws.

  6. Sigismund looks at us through his all-seeing videoscope. We look at him. Impasse.

  7. A new plot.

  8. Bound and gagged the crew are led into Divinity class.

  9. Divinity lesson.

  10. Meanwhile…

  11. grabber blasts the walls with his cosmic disintegrator. he is head of the skool and a bit dim but we had to give him this pan.

  12. Escape!

  13. The peason-molesworth space ship takes off (more next week if you have the necessessary d’s otherwise jane is not bad value).

  ALL THERE IS TO KNO ABOUT SPACE

  There is very little mistery about Space these days at least not to us boys who hav grown up with it. It is just a lot of planets dotted about the place and if you want the gen about them here it is.

  THE MOON: This is rather trippery these days as it is only 239000 miles away. Besides it is rather disappointing when you hav been fired all that distance and spent about six years of your life in a space ship to step out and find a lot of craters and moon canals. Agane there is no air so noone can breathe which make things a bit dificult. On the other hand you can jump three times as high as you can on earth but so can everyone else so there is not much fun in it.

  URANUS: This is 1782 million miles away and you hav to pass through a belt of planetoids to get there. It is well worth it when you do but that is rather unlikely in your time becos it would take so long to reach that it would be your grate grand child who would hav the fun i.e. he would be murded by the PUKON and his TREENS. Agane it seme to be rather a long way to go for that.

  MARS: Mars would be all right if it were not for the Martians who are quite beyond the pail. Always fighting always quareling no peace at all for the sound of space pistols, H-bombs, gamma-ray guns, bakterial cannons, Z-destructors and A-integgraters it might be Big skool at st custards in brake. I must sa it
would be a bit beter if headmasters zoomed in to take the next lesson in a mini-helicopter like the PUKON do from his space palace but you canot hav everything particularly at skool where you get practically o xcept latin and the kane. It would be nice to get to kno some of martian skoolboys but they are moluscs with gogle eyes who talk in high-pitched squeaks. They goble their mars veg and they are most unsavory they do not wash. Not a bit like us. Or are they hem-hem?

  SATURN: You can always recognise Saturn when you zoom towards it at the speed of light. First of all it hav 9 little moons and then three rings. Plunge past these, give it full gravity reaction, ease to half, pick up the first space beacon, turn right at the church, flatten out, blo the space tanks and go in to land . . . . . . CRASH WAM BLAM BUMP so you see it is not so very diferent from landing on the earth. And what is it when you get here? The people my dear are such bores. Very hospitable of course but what do you hav in comon with walking toadstools which is what they are. The rest of them are giant bullfrogs and that is, when you come to think of it, not much beter. They croak and bark. Beter to stay at home really the people at parties there are like bullfrogs and they croak and bark to. But they don’t hop out of the window and pinch your space ship. If they pinch anything it’s – enuff said hem-hem.