Susan had taken to carrying  the  poker under her respectable coat. One wallop generally did the trick. They were amazed that anyone else saw them.

     'Gawain?' she said, eyeing a nervous bear who had  suddenly spotted her and was now trying to edge away nonchalantly.

     'Yes?'

     'You meant to tread on that  crack so  that I'd have to thump some poor creature whose

     only fault is wanting to tear you limb from limb.'

     'I was just skipping-'

     'Quite. Real children don't go hoppity-skip unless they are on drugs.'

     He grinned at her.

     'If I  catch you being  twee again I will  knot  your arms  behind your head,' said Susan levelly.

     He nodded, and went to push Twyla off the swings.

     Susan relaxed,  satisfied. It was her  personal  discovery.  Ridiculous threats didn't worry them  at all, but they were obeyed. Especially the ones in graphic detail.

     The previous governess had used various monsters and bogeymen as a form of discipline. There was  always  something waiting to eat  or carry off bad boys and  girls for crimes  like stuttering  or defiantly  and aggravatingly persisting in writing with their  left hand. There was always  a Scissor Man waiting  for a little girl who  sucked her  thumb, always a  bogeyman in the cellar. Of such bricks is the innocence of childhood constructed.

     Susan's  attempts  at getting  them  to disbelieve in  the  things only caused the problems to get worse.

     Twyla had  started to wet the bed. This may have been a crude  form  of defence  against the terrible clawed creature that  she  was  certain  lived under it.

     Susan had found out about this one the first night, when the child had woken up crying because of a bogeyman in  the closet.