She knew if she let go of the boy he would dash to the door. Already he had run home once out of her class. So she snatched her cane from the desk and brought it down on him. He was writhing and kicking. She saw his face beneath her, white, with eyes like the eyes of a fish, stony, yet full of hate and horrible fear. And she loathed him, the hideous writhing thing that was nearly too much for her. In horror lest he should overcome her, and yet at the heart quite calm, she brought down the cane again and again, whilst he struggled making inarticulate noises and lunging vicious kicks at her.
Caned in Numbers7
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