Strange though it may seem to the unititiated, Mr Porter's on duty tonight. I do stress that his presence has nothing to do with our advanced years and the fact that we two geriatrics have had it already, but rather, that as SF tends to go in for hitting the ground running, (e.g. yesterday) it seemed best to do the same in Newton.

It was all rather strange last night, not just because of the limbo dancing, but because everyone was in someone else's bed. I must hasten to reassure all of you, of course, that this was because lots of Newtonians had elected to move dorms, rather than indulge in any undesirable activities, and as a result, I found myself delivering many half-finished exhortations to those whom I imagined my comments were being addressed.

You probably don't need me to mention that your little men are growing up fast. I say that, because I was reminded of that fact by one Newtonian of considerable stature, who hailed me as if I were a passing cab as I strode past a dorm. (I'm often taken for a ride in this lodge.)

"Sir!" he exclaimed, "Look!"

You have to be quite careful in this job when your charges call out like that. I needn't have worried; he was holding up his newly-acquired deodorant stick as if he were holding a much-coveted trophy - and, come to think of it, I suppose that's exactly what it was.

How quickly they grow up. Make the most of these years: they will go all too quickly.