What excitement there must have been when "One day I gazed through the window in a trance, lessons forgotten. Mr. Pincott brought me back to earth with, 'What are you looking at, Maud? I dazedly replied, 'A balloon, sir.' We all dashed out into the playground (gravel at the time). The balloon came lower and lower until the travellers in the basket shouted, 'Where are we?" They were informed, 'Eastling, near Faversham.'

Thank  you,' they replied, and away they went, to our amazement."

Her appraisal of Fred Pincott is

"Bless him, he was a School Master in a million, each pupil was a personal being in his life. Strict to the utmost degree, but very understanding of children's needs and frailties, his punishment was served according to the deed.

Fred Pincott was a Londoner, born in Tooley Street, Bermondsey) and he spent the first thirty years of his life in London. He concluded his pupil-teacher ship at St. Paul's, after which be went to Trinity College, where he gained his teaching certificate and returned to St. Paul's as first assistant.

The circumstances of his application for the Eastling headship are of interest. Mr. John Smith, who had been headmaster of Eastling for four years, had a son who was also going in for the teaching profession, and this son went to serve his apprentice-ship at St Paul's Islington, where Mr. Pincott was first assistant. Mr. Smith casually mentioned to Mr. Pincott that his father was resigning the headship of Eastling, and then added, "Why don't you apply for it?"

Mr, Pincott did apply, got the job, and stayed for thirty-six years. Thus are our careers guided by very casual circumstances.

A last word on the Fred Pincott era. In the winter of 1954 Eastling was completely cut off by eight-foot snow drifts. Pictures and reports of the villagers' plight were printed in the "Faversham News", a copy of which eventually reached William Hills, an ex-pupil of Eastling School, then residing in Ontario, Canada. He was moved to write:-.

"I have just read about Eastling being snowbound. This brought back a lot of memories. In particular, I remember a morning sixty years ago when there was a ten-foot drift near the school. Only six of us made it to school that morning. Our school master was Hr. Pincott and what a lovely man he was. I remember him lighting a coal fire, and how we sat round it, painting Until home time. What happy memories of the village school I have, where I received the groundwork, to become a good citizen."

Fred Pincott died in 1931, after becoming a legend in his own lifetime. He loved the school, and I've no doubt his spirit hovers still over the school down the lane, wishing us well.