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The Ruffitybuffs

Foreword

The Ruffitybuffs, dressed in their colourful garb, can often be spied in the 

nooks and crannies of The Royal High School, if you know where to look. 

Sometimes, they venture out into the corridors, but they run away if you try 

to catch them.  

At Christmas though, they take to the stage to entertain young and old. 

They are very much a part of the culture and tradition of the school. There 

would be uproar throughout the burgh if the Ruffitybuffs’ annual festive 

panto did not take place.

And within these pages you will find the story of how the Ruffitybuffs came 

to The Royal High School; how they acquired their names; how they were 

nurtured by Granny Hibbard; and how they almost fell into the clutches of 

wicked ogre.  

Read and enjoy.

J. Frith - Rector of The Royal High.

The Ruffitybuffs: A Fairytale of The Royal High School

Our tale takes place over 200 years ago on Calton Hill in Edinburgh. 

At the top of Calton Hill sits The Royal High School an old and very 

respectable school for boys and young men. At the bottom of Calton 

Hill sits the city of Edinburgh, already a huge bustling metropolis. 

Back in those days it was said that if you were born rich in 

Edinburgh you would probably always be rich, but if you were born 

poor you would definitely be poor all your days and never leave the 

street you were born in....

On the day our story begins two horses are pulling a carriage up 

Calton Hill. In the carriage sits Mssr Marciel Lemonstre D’Ogreville 

and his wife Madame Lucesca Lemonstre also from Ogreville. On 

Mssr Lemonstres’ lap sits a satchel. Inside the satchel are letters 

from the Czar of Russia and the Emperor of Prussia and various 

other Kings, Dukes and Cardinals. 

The letters state that Mssr Lemonstre has taught the children of the great 

and good all over Europe and has done so to a very high standard. This is very 

important as Mssr Lemonstre is taking up his new position as the Rector of 

the Royal High School today. The school is of course a private school for the 

sons of Edinburgh’s rich and even royal residents, because in those days 

there was no such thing as free schools. 

The carriage, having reached the top of the hill deposits its 

passengers outside the main doors of the school where the school 

board had assembled to meet the new Rector. Amid a flurry of 

bonjours and cheek kissing the new Rector is shown into the school, 

and eventually to his sumptuous quarters where he and his wife will 

live during his time at the school. In keeping with tradition, the 

Chairman of the Board visits them and hands over a large sum of 

money to Madame Lemonstre to be used to fund the New Rector’s Ball. 

They are then invited to dine with the Board that evening.

There is a buzz of expectation around the dinner table as the 

members of the Board await the arrival of the Rector and his wife. 

The school is long established and distinguished but it has never 

had such an illustrious Rector with Royal references and 

commendations. The Lemonstres duly arrive and are shown to their 

table but Madame Lemonstre remains standing and addresses the 

dinner guests personally. 

“Dear members of the Board my husband and I would like to thank 

you for the warmth of your welcome and the opportunity you have 

afforded us today. We would however beg your indulgence to break 

with tradition and not hold the New Rector’s Ball”. 

The Board members look at each other and murmurs of discontent 

are heard in the room.

 “Please do not be offended” she continued “my husband and I have 

travelled extensively throughout Europe and have seen both the 

rich and the poor in equal measure and we would like to use the 

funds for the ball to sponsor four poor children from the local 

orphanage. They will be brought to live with us in our quarters, and 

I shall train them for a year to become companions for the children 

of the families we have encountered during our travels. At the end 

of the year they will be sent out to the Palaces and Stately homes 

of our European associates there to find opportunities they could 

never have dreamed possible, thank you for your indulgence”. 

As Madame Lemonstre took her seat everyone in the room stood up 

and applauded, shouting “Bravo” and “Hoorah” in equal share. 

The following day Mssr Lemonstre began his new 

position, teaching Latin to the senior boys, and 

Madame Lemonstre visits the local orphanages to 

select the lucky four children who will be given the 

opportunity to join her and train under her. As the 

Rector’s wife of course she could not be expected to 

look after the children and so the position of Nanny 

was advertised in the Edinburgh Herald. Whether 

through poor advertising or lack of interest only one 

lady applied for the post. Madame Lemonstre duly 

organised an interview with the single applicant Mrs 

Nancy Hibbard who had no experience but did want 

the job. 

“Everyone calls me Granny Hibbard dear and I’d like the children to 

call me by that name”. 

“As you wish” replied Madame Lemonstre “I have no concern over 

names but the children must be fed three full meals a day and 

bathed regularly at least once a month”. 

When she finished speaking Madame Lemonstre turned and walked 

through the door behind her and beckoned Granny Hibbard to 

follow her. 

In the adjoining room sat four very dirty and bedraggled children. 

Madame Lemonstre clapped her hands 

“Children this is Granny Hibbard she will look after you and must be 

obeyed at all times. Please come to meet her one at a time and tell 

her your names”. 

“If it is alright with you Madame I should like to give them names 

myself”. 

“As you wish” said Madame Lemonstre and with a swish of 

petticoats she turned and left the room.

The children looked at Granny Hibbard with frightened faces. 

They had never left the orphanage before and this was all very new to 

them. 

“Don’t be frightened” said Granny Hibbard softly “I am here to look 

after you, and look after you I shall”.

“Now you there with your head in that book, can you read?” 

The child shook his or her head. They were so dirty you could not tell if 

they were a boy or a girl. 

“Then” said Granny Hibbard “I shall call you Nosey”. 

She smiled as the child blushed. 

“And you” she said looking at the child who had wrapped the curtain around 

her as if it were a dress 

“I shall call you Posy”. 

She looked at the third child but before she could speak the child 

ran up to her and grabbed around the waist very tightly. 

“You I shall call Cuddly”. 

The last child was fast asleep on a chair. 

“We shall call him Cosy I think” she said smiling at the others “and now it 

seems we must have a full breakfast before our day commences”

News of the “wonderful charitable act” spread quickly through the 

city. In the local taverns and hotels the talk was of little else and 

the children were given a name “The roughies tae buffies”. Madame 

Lemonstre found it impossible to say the name correctly, much to 

the enjoyment of all who heard her pronounce the name “The 

Ruffitybuffs”. 

And so the name stuck and everyone involved seemed very happy. 

The school was delighted as the news brought in many illustrious 

visitors who wanted to see their names mentioned in the Herald in 

association with the Ruffitybuffs.

The children themselves were very happy with the three meals a 

day. They never saw Madame Lemonstre, and their days were taken 

up helping the cleaners or cooks, who worked them hard. However 

they were safe and contented especially at bedtimes. Each night 

Granny Hibbard would tuck them in and tell them a story about a 

faraway place called Twinkleland. 

“Everybody sings and dances all day long in Twinkleland” she would 

tell them. “The good Fairy Tara Twinkle watches over Twinkleland 

from the Twinkle star in the sky”. “Will Tara Twinkle visit us and do 

some magic?” the children always asked. 

“Oh no” Granny Hibbard always replied “good fairies never use their 

magic when there are humans around, it is too powerful”!

Granny Hibbard would tell them that she was going back to live in 

Twinkleland one day as all her relatives lived there. Most nights she 

would sing them a lullaby to get them off to sleep, it was always the 

same song

Wink at the stars every night

When the sky is clear 

And the moon shines bright

If you wink at the stars 

They’ll wink back its true

And you’ll know Tara Twinkle

Is watching over you.

The last thing she said at night was 

“Night night sleep tight hope the bedbugs don’t bong” 

The Ruffitybuffs would jump up and shout “that’s wrong”, “don’t bite”, 

“that’s right”. Then she said softy

“Night night” and blow out the candle in the room.

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