On a bright Easter morning, Mother presented us with splendid new coats. They were a matching pair, though my brother’s had buttons that fastened the opposite way and no belt at the back. Both were made of the softest red cloth, with black velvet collars. I twirled about, feeling like a queen, while Jeff, my younger brother, endured the fussing with a stoic air. He wore a red cap with a tiny visor, and I had a round hat with ribbons that danced down my back.
After church, Nanny and Grandmother brought us home, and the adults disappeared inside to prepare for the afternoon’s tea at the Potters. The sun shone with unusual warmth for early spring, and I pleaded with Nanny to let us remain outside. She hesitated, for the party was soon, but finally agreed, instructing us to stay on the driveway and keep our coats immaculate.
I remembered we must not step on the damp grass, but I believed the cement was safe. “Shall we visit the Smiths’ dogs?” I asked Jeff. He nodded, and since our gate was right beside the Smiths’ fence, I thought no harm could come of it.
We skipped next door and peered through the wire at the dogs. Their pointed faces poked through, and they licked our hands with eager tongues. Nanny always warned us about ‘dog germs’, but we saw nothing amiss, so we giggled and played on.
I climbed the fence a little to speak to the dogs, never meaning to cause trouble. Suddenly, the gate swung open, and all three dogs bounded out, tails wagging. They knocked Jeff to the ground and covered his face with licks.
Jeff laughed as he rolled in the grass beside the driveway. I joined in, but soon realised we must return the dogs to their pen. We tried, but they would not listen. I rang the Smiths’ bell, but no one answered. The house was empty, likely at church.
Meanwhile, the dogs tugged at Jeff’s jacket, pulling him about. He laughed, unaware that one dog had shredded his cap. I saw the ruined cap and felt dread. I grabbed a dog by the collar, but it snatched my hat by the ribbons and dashed away, prancing in triumph.
Tears welled in my eyes. Jeff, seeing my distress, tried to help, but the dogs now chased after my buttons. Soon we were both on the ground, the dogs barking and growling in play.
With no other choice, I called for help. Nanny and Suzanne, hearing our cries, hurried to us. Suzanne ran for more help, and soon Father, Mother, and Suzanne returned. Father and Suzanne managed to corral the dogs and secure them in their pen.
Silence fell. Mother’s eyes flashed with anger, and I saw storm clouds gather on every face. Jeff and I knew we were in grave trouble, Easter or not.
We were marched home in disgrace. Nanny led us upstairs. Father entered and announced, “Your mother will deal with you most severely. You have ruined your new clothes and may not attend the Potters’ party.” He left us trembling.
Nanny brought two chairs and placed them side by side. She sat us down and instructed us not to move. I can still recall the scratchy fabric beneath me.
We waited in silence, not daring to speak. Nanny sat in the armchair, gazing out the window.
At last, Mother entered. She stood us up and moved the chairs apart. She placed me over one chair and Jeff over the other, so that our bottoms faced each other. Mother stood silently, and after a few minutes, I began to cry softly. She reached over and delivered a sharp slap to my bottom. “Not a sound out of you!” she commanded.
Then the lecture began. It never seemed to end. I could feel myself squeezing and unsqueezing my buttocks in dreadful anticipation of what I knew was going to happen. “Nanny, I need the spanking stick,” Mother finally said. That old thin board was terrible. Now I really started to cry and begged mother not to spank me.
But without another word, she started. Spank and spank and spank it went – a stick on its mission. How awful it was! Mother was obviously really upset about the coats and hats, and I don’t blame her today. When she was finished, she picked up Jeff and held him. He was arching his back and rubbing his sore bottom.
She told him that he had been a very naughty boy and he now had to go with nanny to be dressed and put on to his bed as punishment. I started to get up, but mother jerked me to my feet and sat down in my chair, looking me right in the eye. I was still sobbing and rubbing my bottom.
The lecture returned. “You were told that those were special clothes! I know it was your idea to leave the yard – Jeff follows everything you do! You are the one responsible for this!” With that, she pulled me sharply over her knees and began to spank me with her open hand, again and again.
I couldn’t believe this was happening to me all over again. She spanked all the way from the back of my knees to the top of my buttocks – wow, did that ever hurt! There was nothing I could say or do that would make her stop. I reached back, but she held my arm up so I couldn’t protect myself.
I never thought it would end. Of course, it did. Spankings always did, but this was a really severe one, according to our family traditions. When it was over, mother took me on to her lap and began to rock me. “You got in over your head, didn’t you? You couldn’t get those dogs back in, right? You must have been afraid when you saw so much damage happening…”
I squirmed on her lap, wanting to run and hide in shame, but she held me firmly. She bent me over again, and I thought I was going to be spanked again. But instead, she put hand cream all over my bottom, and smoothed the burning skin. I remember putting my thumb in my mouth and sobbing in little gasps.
“You must become more obedient, little one,” she said. “I do not want to spank you like this. Now, nanny will dress you and you must go to your bed too, just like Jeff.
“We will be going to the Potters without you this afternoon. I am very, very sorry that this terrible thing has happened. You be good for nanny and we will see you this evening.”
With that she was gone, and nanny came in to dress me. I was still crying and calling out for mother to come back, for I was so sorry. Nanny just shook her head and began dressing me. When I protested she gave me one little slap on the side of my thigh. I sharpened right up and co-operated.
Those coats were beautiful, but I never wanted another one with a velvet collar.
