Not sure what schools they came from, or why they came in the first place, but this was a week when most boys were on their best behavior, each trying to look like Roy Rogers though some ended up looking like his horse instead, and each so full of bxxxxxxt that he even started to believe it himself where a strumpet boy, boy strumpet conversation would have typically gone something like this.
Ah yes, my Old Man works in banks but only when they're closed and everyone's gone home - "Well my daddy ownes banks so you might know him,Lord Bilge, anyway,so what does your mother do?" - "Scrubs doorsteps and knits, why?" - "Hmm, thought so, my mummy scrubs nothing but does own several woollen mills" - "So what do you know about Polka Dot knickers then?" - "Eh"
Ans so similar academically charged conversations would go on right accross the school and, with any luck when all out of academic finess, end up behind the back of the Rabbit Club where mummie's woollen mills and daddy's banks could all go to hell in a blur of lust, long trousers and brylcream.
Who the hell was in charge of these up market strumpets was never quite clear but one thing was for certain and that was after ten minutes in the company of KH's finest, they didn't stay up market for long and went home knowing more about how to blow a peter, lick a frog into shape for the frog olympics, groom a rat, polish a grass snake, paint a V on it to make it look lethal, pin a boy to a wall with six inch nails in woodwork class and all of which was more than they ever did about table manners, ballet, badmington and decorum !