Once again Cambridge appeared to me as if through a dirty window. Although that might just be the effects of the vicious coshing the porters had given me.
In Cambridge, only the brave pass below open windows, especially during an exam term …
Standards were slipping. Here we were on the Feast of St Raymond, popularly known as Trench Coat Thursday, and not a Fedora in sight.
As my hands scrabbled along the bookshelf, I realised the drugged sherry was taking its toll. The Seventh Scroll of the Horse Proctor was going to slip through fingers once again.
Eventually a Vice Chancellor with a sense of history has to ask the eternal question of university management. Who would my predecessors have killed by now?
While the exam results had been taken down outside the Senate House, the blood stains were proving harder to shift …
Of course, on graduation days summary execution for walking on the grass was prohibited. But he could wait.
The Proctor was always surprised at how easy it was to lure tourists into the black portal.
Once you’ve dipped a body in concrete, Cambridge offers a suprising number of places to conceal it.
The church looked to constitute about a quarter cathedral; which, of course, is also Cambridge slang for a £250 bribe.
In Cambridge, steeplechase normally refers to flight across a church roof. I’d like to claim pursuit by homicidal clergy was optional …
Of course, it wasn’t King George who was buried there …
Webster once made a big deal about death having a lot of doors for men to take their exits, and most of them so curious they opened both ways. I was setting off for a College where E staircase alone would have blown old Webster’s eyebrows right off …
Spring in Cambridge! When one finds beer in beer gardens, narrow boats upon the river, and daggers sprouting from academic spines with all the profusion of Parker’s Piece daffodils.
The engine was still warm. The Wilsey Chair of Divinity couldn’t have gotten far …
