Then Weston called us the
Rising Generation, and showed that, in all probability, the Prime
Minister, Lord Chancellor, and Primate of the years to come now played
"all unconscious of their future fame" in the classic fields that lay
beyond the water, and promised that in the hours of our coming
greatness we would look back with gratitude to the munificence of our
native city. He put lots of Latin in, and ended with some Latin verses
of his own, in which he made the Goddess of the Stream plead for us as
her sons. By the stream he meant the canal, for we had no river, which
of course Weston couldn't help.
How we watched for the next week's paper! But it wasn't in. They never
did put his things in, which mortified him sadly. His greatest
ambition was to get something of his own invention printed. Johnson
said he believed it was because Weston always put something personal
in the things he wrote. He was very sarcastic, and couldn't help
making fun of people.
It was all the kinder of Weston to do his best about the bridge,
because he was not much of a cricketer himself. He said he was too
short-sighted, and that it suited him better to poke in the hedges for
beetles. He had a splendid collection of insects.
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