Text 1: Jab day at Westbrook High, by Sam Ibekwe

An original contemporary local newspaper report.

The sports hall at Westbrook High School looked more like a field hospital on Wednesday, as a team of six school nurses gave 180 Year 8 pupils their vaccination against HPV, a virus linked to several cancers.

For most, it was over in seconds. For some, the wait was the worst part. ‘I’ve been dreading this for a week,’ admitted 12-year-old Ottilie, clutching a friend’s hand in the queue. Two minutes later she emerged grinning. ‘That’s it? I didn’t even feel it.’

Lead nurse Philippa Truscott has seen every kind of reaction. ‘We get criers, jokers and the ones who go very quiet,’ she said. ‘Boys are often the most nervous, though they’d never admit it.’ Pupils who feel faint are asked to lie down on mats behind a screen, and two did so during the morning.

Not every family had signed the consent form. Around one in ten parents declined, some because they had read worrying claims online. Ms Truscott said the nurses always answer questions honestly. ‘The vaccine has been given to millions of young people and is very safe. Our job is to explain, not to pressure.’

By lunchtime the queue had gone, and a group of boys were comparing plasters in the corridor like medals.

Text 2: Vaccine from the calf, by Our Own Reporter

An original newspaper report written in a nineteenth-century voice; a period simulation, not an archival document.

In this newspaper report from 1893, a journalist visits a new public station where smallpox vaccine was grown on young calves, instead of being passed from the arm of one vaccinated child to the next.

The new Calf Vaccine Station, opened last week in a former livery stable in Pallister Street, has already become one of the sights of the town. On Saturday afternoon we found a little crowd at the gate, some with infants to be done, but a great many more who had come merely to look at the calves.

There are four of them at present, young heifers of a fawn colour, each lying strapped upon a tilting table in a whitewashed stall, with a patch upon its flank shaved and scored where the vaccine is grown. The attendant, in a white linen coat, assured us that the animals feel nothing to speak of, and certainly the one we watched went on chewing with great composure while the lymph was taken from her with a little ivory spatula.

The mothers we spoke to were, for the most part, warmly in its favour. Under the old system the lymph was taken from the arm of one child to be put into the arm of the next, and more than one woman told us she had dreaded what else might pass with it. ‘I know where this has come from,’ said a carter’s wife, with her baby on her hip, nodding at the calf. ‘That is more than I could say before.’

Not every visitor was persuaded. An elderly man declared loudly that no Christian child should be given a disease of cattle, and that he expected to see the infants of the town growing horns. This drew a good deal of laughter, though one or two young mothers looked uneasy and went away without going in.

The infants themselves were the least contented party. We counted eleven done in an hour, and eleven distinct howls, each followed in a moment by perfect silence at the breast. The service is free to the poor, and on Monday the doors had to be closed at four with thirty still waiting.

Using information from both texts, explain briefly how people felt about the vaccinations.

You should make it clear which text you are referring to.