Explore "The Upton Letters" by A.C. Benson on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
DEAR HERBERT, -- You must forgive me if this is a very sentimental letter, but this is the day that, of all days in the year, is to me most full of pathos -- the last day of the summer half. My heart is like a full sponge and must weep a little. The last few days have been full to the brim of work and bustle -- reports to be written, papers to be looked over. Yesterday was a day of sad partings. Half-a-dozen boys are leaving; and I have tried my best to tell them the truth about themselves; to say something that would linger in their minds, and yet to do it in a tender and affectionate way. And some of these boys' hearts are full to bursting too. I remember as if it were yesterday the last meeting at Eton of a Debating Society of which I was a member. We were electing new members and passing votes of thanks.
Scott, who was then President and, as you remember, Captain of the Eleven, sate in his high chair above the table; opposite him, with his minute-book, was Riddell, then Secretary -- that huge fellow in the Eight, you recollect.