These are a selection of pupils memories from the booklet St.Leonard's School 1813-1988

The caretaker at St.Leonard's for the 30 year perid from the end of the first World War through to the end of the second was a Mr Leggett. He and his family lived in the adjoining school cottage and his daughter Winifred, who also attended the school, had memories of those days. "My dad did a very hard job of work, as there were two schools in those days, boys and girls were kept separate. I remember twelve big open grates, also four in the boys school with solid iron guards around them. My dad had to break up the coal and carry it in very large buckets upstairs as the fires had to be set going by 5:30 every morning to get the rooms warm by the time the children arrived for school at 9 o'clock. I can remember taking the bundles of wood round every night and rolling up newspaper to light the fires."

"My school days were very happy. We always started school in the morning with prayers, then the register was called. One of my favourite lessons was cooking every Monday at Sunnyhill Road, making bread."

Gwyneth Davis remembers the girls playground around 1920 as "being just a yard with toilets and a drinking fountain with iron cups chained to it."

Dorothy Hattas, who was a pupil at St.Leonard's between 1920 and 1930, remembers the school visits to St.Leonard's church on Ascension Day and also St.Leonard's Day. "We would all walk from the school along Mitcham Lane, and after the service we had the rest of the day to ourselves. I think one of the attractions was seeing the teachers in their best clothes and all wearing hats."

Hugh Shearer who was at the school around 1930 was able to give indications of what life was like for a pupil at that time. "In the infant's department I was welcomed by Miss Puddy. My first memory is of the hall at the right side of the corridor. I believe there was a fireplace at the far end, and I am quite certain that there was a large rocking horse standing by the window. The next picture memory is of being seated at a desk and doing sums and playtime, when boys who couldn't get a ride on the rocking horse, spent their ten minutes or so trying to squash one another into a box-like space in which a large wooden partition folded to divide the hall into two spaces."

"Cold weather meant extra work for Mr Leggett, the caretaker. Most of his day seemed to be spent carrying buckets of coal for the classroom fires, and sometimes we would try and linger by the fireside for an extra minute or so, drawing slowly on the straws as we drank our bottles of milk."

I went up into the "Big Boys". Here, even the youngest lads were quickly absorbed into the hurly-burly of the playground, and soon became accostomed to the calendar of activities. The University Boat Race divided the whole school into light and dark blues, and everyone - even girls - wore a favour (a badge) to denote their particular favourite. This partnership excited other battles too, and the green painted corridor to the outside toilets was filled with Oxford followers being chased by Cambridge, or vice versa. Hopscotch probably followed, then five stones (or dabs). Next on the calendar, if the teaching of history followed it's usual pattern, the top class would be learning about the civil war, and for a few days, every boy was recruited to become a Roundhead or Cavalier. History was turned on it's head when the Cavaliers won the playground battle as they frequently did. Whips and tops and then conkers followed with cries of "strings", "my go first", "cheat", "Champion", etc."

"Miss Oakley was very strict, and woe betide any pupil who failed to hold the writing pen at the correct angle, just to the right of the right ear. A sharp rap across the knuckles with the edge of a wooden ruler was our teacher's reminder, and, of course our handwriting quickly improved. Friday afternoons had a pleasant interlude for teachers. About 3 o'clock we would be required to stand as the headmaster entered, then told us to get on with our work as he handed over what we little ones assumed to be the teacher's wages."

"Winter had the added attraction of football and, once a week, we filed along Ambleside Avenue, to the common where a cinder football pitch awaited us. We would hang our jackets on the iron clothes rack which was cemented into the ground, Mr Dix would choose sides, and the game would commence. At the end, some of us boys would apply handkerchiefs to bleeding knees (the cinders were a bit rough on the knees when one fell over) and we would limp back to school to join the girls who had been enjoying country dancing in the hall."

"1936 was my last year at St.Leonard's. I moved up to class 2 with Mr Dix, my first male teacher. He demonstrated many skills, but mostly I enjoyed his teaching of bookbinding, using passé partout and cardboard. One volume still exists in our bookcase - "Our Empire's Storey" - told in pictures. The original paper covered book my mother bought for me in Woolworth's store for sixpence, was transformed into a sturdy volume, under Mr Dix's guidance."

Betty Smith adds further detail to life at the school. "I attended St.Leonard's junior school in the early 1930's. The junior school then comprised six classrooms, two adjoining the assembly hall and four on the upper floor. Five of these were i daily use, the sixth kept for music and other special subjects. Classrooms and hall were heated, not too well, by coal fires."

"The playgrounds, separate for boys and girls, were miniscule and contained the outdoor loos - freezing in winter. Since we were allowed to congregate in the hall at break time and all went home for lunch, I don't remember that the lack of space was considered a great deprivation."