A Scottish Boyhood

By Gerald Hotley

Oh Dear! what a walloping Jonathon got !
How Mrs. McTavish belabored his bot !
By the time she had finished the shade of his seat
Was crimson and blue like a rose or a beet !
As red as the poppies that grow in the park
You'd think that his bottom would glow in the dark !

The sound of his yells could be heard in the street,
The passers-by stopped, tuned their ears to the treat !
For most of the neighbors just couldn't care "tuppence"
They were pleased the young rascal was getting "comeuppance" !

So how did it happen ? What had Jonathan done,
To merit this pain on his upended bum ?
He had used a rude word to old Mrs. Popov,
when she'd scolded him gently he'd told her to "**** off"
 She'd then told his Mum and caused his disgrace,
But she'd wanted to wipe the rude grin off his face !
>
"Young people today" the old lady had said,
Should be taught to behave, and then sent to bed !
When I was a girl and my manners had slipped,
It was "over the knee" , I would always be whipped'
And so were my sisters and brothers those days'
We knew what to expect and we mended our ways !
>
"Oh dear Mrs. Popov, I feel so ashamed"
Said Mrs. McTavish, who felt she'd been blamed,
"I'll call the wretch in from his games in the street
And give him a hiding - I want you to see it!
I won't accept this - he's becoming a lout,
The last time he swore I just gave him a clout.
This time I'll be strict - I shall give him the strap.
I'll teach him some manners, the insolent chap !"
>
So the boy was called in, he was pulled by the ear,
When he saw Mrs. Popov his eyes filled with fear,
And he knew from the look on his mother's grim face
That what she had planned would not suit his taste !
>
"Go up to you room you disgraceful young clown"
His mother instructed, her face in a frown,
"I'll teach you a lesson you'll never forget,
And show Mrs. Popov the treatment you'll get
For using bad language, go up, go up now!
And take off your trousers, come on - I mean NOW!"
>
He saw he was doomed, that his sentence was set,
And he climbed up the stairs to his early, sore bed,
He took off his trousers and slipped off his shoes'
And wondered which weapon his mother would use !
He hoped for her hand, that was softest of all,
He dreaded the hairbrush and strap most of all,
The pain of the strap on his bum was the worst,
"Oh God!, what a day, what a pain, what a curse!"
>
Downstairs in the lounge the ladies agreed
To punish the boy before they took tea,
And Mrs. McTavish unhooked the brown tawse
That was always hung up on the old kitchen door.
"My dear Mrs. Popov, this is the tool
That I use on the bairns, it came from the school,
But I don't strap their hands, I think that that's cruel
At home it's their bottoms, that's always my rule."

Nature provided a rounded, soft place
And for mothers to bare it is not a disgrace,
So come up with me and we'll get the job done
It's time that I reddened the young rascal's bum!"

When both of the ladies appeared at the door
And the boy saw the strap his face fell to the floor!
He dropped to his knees and begged "Let me off"'
Said "Sorry" for swearing at Mrs. Popov!

"Too late for that now" said his mum, with a grin,
And now I will teach you the wages of sin,
So take down those pants and come over my knee"
And she sat on the bed and rolled up her right sleeve
And she seized his right arm and pulled the boy over
And pulled up his shirt and his vest and pullover
And raised up the strap as high as she could
And whipped it down hard on her own flesh and blood!

His bottom cheeks clenched as he fought off the pain
And sucked in his breath like a vintage steam train,
Then he let out a yell and he arched up his back,
but down came the belt with another loud whack!
>He howled and he squirmed and lifted his fist
To protect his poor rear, but Ma seized his wrist'
And whacked him again with a terrible "Crack"
And pinioned his hand in the small of his back!

"Oh! Mother, please stop, I'll not do it again"
Cried the boy "Ah! no more, Oh! no more, Ah! the pain!"
But Ma was relentless, he'd not had enough'
To teach him his lesson, not nearly enough!
Adding stripe after stripe, like a marathon race!
Oh! the pain you could see on young Jonathan's face!
His eyes were screwed up, tears streamed to his chin,
His yells now were hoarse, he continued the din!
But all of his cries and his pleadings were vain,
As the strap did its work giving pain upon pain!

At last mother stopped, but he wasn't released,
She asked Mrs. Popov if she was now pleased,
That she'd seen justice done, "Has the boy had enough,
Could his bum take some more or would that be too tough?"
And while the boy sobbed and lay over her knee,
They inspected his bottom with well-concealed glee!

"It's quite a good job and it looks very sore"'
Said old Mrs. Popov,"But let's give him some more,
It's mostly gone red,and it feels very hot,
But there's still some pink here at the base of his bot!"

And as they consulted and massaged his rump,
Young Jonathan whimpered and tried a big jump
To escape from the grip of his sturdy young mum.
"Keep still! I'll decide when I've done with your bum!"

"I think you are right", Mother said to her friend,
We haven't quite finished our work on his end,
Change places with me, why don't you have a turn,
And give him six more for a really good burn!"
>
So the boy was transferred from one lap to another,
And Mrs. Popov gave a smile to his mother'
And set about giving the ultimate six,
Poor Jonathan never had had such a fix!
>
To cover the rest of his bottom with weal's,
Was a task that she relished despite his shrill squeals,
And to make sure he felt every ounce of the pain,
She counted to ten, then she thrashed him again!
>
And during those pauses the youngster implored
To be let off the rest, but his pleas were ignored,
And justice was done, he was put into bed,
And the ladies had tea, and slices of bread!
They felt very pleased with their evening's work,
"Parental duty should never be shirked!"
>
And out in the street the people moved off,
They'd heard everything - What a hiding he'd got!
The neighbors looked pleased, but the children were pale,
They all could imagine the state of his tail,
And that, Dearest Friends is the end of this tale !!