Woodwork
Woodwork, under the supervision of Mr Gladstone on Saturday mornings, was, I think, compulsory, but the boys all enjoyed it. [It was called carpentry at school and woodwork at Caldecott, or was it the other way round?] I understood the principles of woodwork, but putting them into practice was another matter; I could drastically reduce the size of a piece of wood while desperately trying to plane a straight edge. We all made objects to take home to our parents, and I still have in my possession a rather rough wooden box that I made for my parents, which reverted to me on my mother’s death.
The woodwork room contained a number of tea chests [I am not sure what purpose they served for woodwork]. Mr Gladstone would explain that they had travelled to this country from India containing loose tea, and would show us the tea dust that remained in them after the good tea had been taken out. To this day I am reluctant to buy teabags, as I suspect that the contents may be dust similar to that in the chests.