An Old Shirburnian remembers

 I went to Sherborne in January 1954. The first view I had of my housemaster was at the TC ­inspection parade held on the first day of every term. TC stood for tinea cruris or ‘crotch-worm’, an ­infection which boys were thought to be prone to during the holidays. Col H.F.W. ‘Hughie’ Holmes moved down the line of boys, inspecting for tell-tale pustules, as they cupped their hands over their private parts.

When he reached me, he straightened up. ‘Ah, you must be Johnson!’ he barked. ‘Welcome to Lyon House!’
I was lucky enough to win a £150 scholarship to ­Sherborne. £150 was a great deal of money in those days. It represented half the annual fee. My grandfather, who subsidised my education, instead of reducing his own contribution, sportingly agreed to let me have the money. In theory, this could have financed any number of visits to the tuck shop for me and half the school.