An Eggalitarian Education

At first glance the recent strange activity on the playing field of the St. Mary Magdalene school in Richmond, England, seemed to be a peculiarly British version of student militancy. Taking careful aim, 23 schoolchildren hurled a volley of eggs at their science master, Garth Willson, who was standing 40 feet away on the grass. Actually, it was simply a variation of a teaching technique that English secondary schools are scrambling to adopt: egg throwing.

The purpose of the academic fad, Willson explained, is to determine under what conditions a thrown egg will break. "For example, we can try and find out if the eggs break more easily when thrown onto grass at different angles or when spun. Now that the children's interest is aroused, there will be no stopping the questions." He was right. When only two of the 23 eggs thrown at Willson broke upon hitting the grass, his pupils were incredulous. "My mum won't understand this experiment," said a 13-year-old girl. "She is always dropping eggs, and they always break."

Insatiable Headmaster. England's egg-throwing mania began in February at Carr Mill Junior School in Lancashire after Headmaster Douglas Appleton proved to his students that they could not break eggs by pressing them between their hands. Soon the children were throwing eggs from the school's second-floor windows. Eggs that hit the concrete were smashed, but those that fell on the lawn were undamaged. Says Appleton: "The excitement and wonderment were intense."

Pressing on, the Carr Mill experimenters talked a fireman into climbing a fire-engine ladder and, from a height of 70 feet, tossing eggs in a gentle arc down onto the grass. Seven out of ten eggs survived. Now the sky was the limit. The insatiable headmaster made contact with the R.A.F. liaison officer at the nearby U.S. air base at Burton Wood. Soon an American helicopter (at a cost of $400 per hour) was hovering 150 feet over the school grounds, dropping eggs onto the lawn. Only three out of 18 were broken.

Elephant Bird. Responding to the U.S. challenge, the Daily Mail arranged for Cricketer Freddie Trueman to bowl eggs before the thrilled pupils at Carr Mill. With stumps set up for added authenticity, Trueman sent one egg after another whizzing down the cricket pitch at 90 m.p.h. Remarkably, only a few broke. To keep up with its Fleet Street competitor, the Daily Express hired a Piper Aztec to drop five dozen eggs at 150 m.p.h., dive-bombing over an airfield near Carr Mill. Three dozen remained unbroken, leading the school's headmaster to remark: "The ancestor of the hen is believed to have laid its eggs in flight."

Egged on by all the activity, one Carr Mill lad has compiled a list of 60 puns containing the word egg (eggsperiment, eggshausted, eggcetera). Others are learning egg statistics (record number of eggs eaten at one sitting: 47) and making a large model of the egg of the extinct elephant bird. Says Headmaster Appleton: "In this school, it is eggs with everything."

Not to be outdone, the St. Mary Magdalene experimenters took the short bus trip to Richmond Bridge and tossed eggs into the Thames. Nearly three-fourths broke on impact. "We now know," concluded Science Master Willson, "that water is harder than grass and less hard than concrete."

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