Too much is happening in my life at present to write a proper post. The process of remembering schooldays has been action enough, so here is a photo from the archive entrusted to me. It’s a Latin class. I hardly remember the master: he must have left soon afterwards. The boy shown highlighted is me. I’m in Army uniform ready for the Thursday afternoon cadet parade. It’s not that I had any interest in military matters: joining the cadets was almost compulsory. Otherwise you had to be in the Pioneer Corps and shuffle round sweeping dead leaves and unblocking drains, and be disapproved by the Headmaster.
I knew Latin from my previous school, so this class (for a few selected boys) was not too challenging.
This part of the school was built in 1610 and not much changed since.
a wayfarer’s notes 
You must have anticipated my reaction, I cliked the pic to see you better, and I thought, right off, what a room, an artpiece all by itself. Latin, Cadet stuff, 1600's, wow, what a background! And the teach looks a right proper English Gentleman. Thanks for the view Vincent.
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Upon looking at this photo, it struck me that the master looks like the actor Sam Neill.
Yes, I'd choose anything over sweeping leaves and unblocking drains. Please not that!
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No, not Sam Neill. I couldn't think of his name at the time but the actor I was thinking of is Fred MacMurry, from the classic sitcom “My Three Sons”. Here is a photo of him:
http://www.netcommish.com/Raising_the_colors.gif
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Eh… sorry for three comments in a row but I also wanted to say how happy I am that these photos were entrusted to you. It is good that you have them.
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Thanks Sophia. It wasn't entirely accidental that I acquired the photos. Ten years ago I started to put down some thoughts about the Headmaster, as I heard he had just died. Then I wrote a letter of condolence to his widow, but such was the general delay that she had also died before receiving it. Their daughter Jane had contacted the Old Boys' Association to find a taker for the photos and I had put in a claim for them, on the basis that I was planning to write a memoir of her father.
Then I heard nothing for ten years so it was a complete surprise to get Jane's phone call this year. She apologised profusely for not responding to my correspondence and explained she was moving to Devon and wanted to clear out some unwanted things.
In my experience, life seems to be full of long timescales!
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