"Sir, sir, why can't you stay.sir? Why do you have to leave? I'll give you all my sweet rations between now and the end of the summer term if you stay!"

That was just one of several offers I received tonight and for which I showed my immense gratitude, but as I assured my charges, que sera, sera. However, once I'd suggested to my confectionery beneficiary that if I were to accept his kind offer, I'd be too large to get out of the Newton door, he felt that this would be a good thing and not a bad one. I politely declined his offer. I was even offered a four-figure sum, which would have emptied his bank account, so I decided that this would not really be entirely justified - and I managed to put the sepulchral vision of the MG out of my mind.

So we got on with things in the present. Shoe-cleaning is always good for a few edible goodies, and chocolate buttons managed to ensure many a shine, as did the whatever-they-were sours, which were used by one winner to have another go at bribing me to stay on. Now, had it been those wonderful Maynards' Sours, sometimes available from motorway service stations (but not often, it seems) that might have been a different matter.

Exams are at the forefront of everyone's minds, but I rabbited on about them last night, so no need to do so again now. I think everyone's pretty calm, if tonight is anything to go by.

And, of course, the rugyby season kicked in today, much to the pleasure of so many. But that's for another night, and now I'm off to see which young apprentice manages to upset the rest of them.

Goodnight.