3 Boastful Barnabus

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Boastful BARNABUS BARNABUS WAS A BOY who loved to boast. In his own way, he was one of the world's very Worst children. The tall, lolloping boy came from an extremely posh family, and he wanted you to know it. Barnabus was a pupil at ST CUTHBERT'S a five-hundred-year-old school set in a thousand acres of English countryside.

The fees were £100,000 a year, all the boys had to wear bow ties and top hats, and there was only one old boy who hadn't gone on to become a prime minister or king. The most he'd managed was to become the foreign secretary. As he'd brought great shame on the school, his name was removed from the long list of ex- pupils whose names were painted in gold leaf on the huge wooden boards that hung in the cavernous entrance hall. Whilst speed walking from one dusty old classroom to another, carrying his monogrammed leather briefcase, Barnabus would pull boys aside in the corridor to boast about his latest achievement. "Tarquin!" he called after a boy one frosty morning. "Oh yes, Barnabus?" replied Tarquin eagerly, his little round spectacles steaming up at being in the presence of the golden boy of the entire school. "The Mathematics test results have just been put up on the board. There is good news and bad news." "Do tell!"

Barnabus pursed his lips. "The bad news is I only received ninety-nine per cent. I will have to have words with the Mathematics master, Mr Troughton, as to why I was marked down a whole one per cent." "Congratulations, Barnabus! Pray tell, what is the good news?" Barnabus smirked. He was going to enjoy this. The good news?" Tarquin, is that you failed, with a measly Forty-nine per cent!" "Oh dear!" Poor Tarquin's face clouded with worry. "So every cloud has a silver lining! Good day!" said Barnabus, and he swept his scarf round his neck theatrically, slapping poor Tarquin on the nose. "OOF!" The strangest thing was that every time Barnabus boasted about something his head became a tiny bit bigger. Barnabus was oblivious to this, and would complain again and again to his housemaster in his office. Mr Hartnell was as antique as his furniture. Both dated back to Victorian times.

"Mr Hartnell! Someone has shrunk my top hat!" The teacher examined the silk topper in detail, and placed it on his OWN head for reference. "Don't do that!" chided Barnabus. "You might have nits." "Apologies, Barnabus. Have you considered that your head might be becoming bigger?" "NONSENSE!" thundered Barnabus. "Now you may go!" "But it's my office!" "Well, I want you to go anyway." Poor old Mr Hartnell shrugged, and shuffled out of the room. "As quick as you can, please!" snapped Barnabus, and his teacher trundled off as fast as his little old legs could carry him.

The big-headed boy didn't just excel in his lessons- he was a fine sportsman too. One morning; the Games master, Mr Pertwee, announced the name of the new school cricket captain. "After lengthy trials, and much careful consideration-" began Pertwee. "Don't go on and on, sir. I think we all know it's me!" shouted out Barnabus. "-our new cricket captain is Barnabus!" In that moment, the big-headed boy's head expanded just a little, and his top hat was squeezed off his head. PING! It shot up and hit the ceiling. THWAT! "Stupid small hat," muttered Barnabus. "Now, three cheers for me! Hip hip!"