-=Dark_Angel=-, P.I.23 Jan 2004

More to the point, I think, is the peerless pleasure of an evening stroll on Jesus Green, smoking a good pipe, delighting in the smell of the air and the trees, and watching the smoke lazily curl up into the air to mingle with the uneducated smoke from the chest-nut vendors' stands.

I remember one autumn when I was escorting the Captain's daughter, as she was then, to the boat-houses one fine evening, when a crudely-dressed vagrant began to skilfully gamboll and whistle a lewd tune in front of us. Quick as a flash, I seized a handful of hot coals from a chest-nut stove and flung them against the peasant's rudimentary tunic, which I now saw to be made of oil paintings and straw. The wretched fellow burst into flames at once, shrieking and beating himself about the pate with a frenzy. It was at that very moment that I realised I had forgotten to bring old Harrison's pocket-watch with me. I cursed and double cursed myself.

Well, you can imagine what happened next, so I shan't bore you with the telling. Suffice it to say: the Trinity breakdancing championships were never the same again!