23 MAY 1992, Page 30

Sheldonian Emperors

Do you remember the blunt old heads and how, before they went, their melting necks were neatly caught and held in plastic sheet?

Those heads had often nodded reassurance.

In the rain-mist you could stare, could grin at the splendour of their long decay, could tell yourself that every head imperial would soon become a yellow knob and stone would stand victorious.

You could look forward to the final rot of Broken-mouth, to the foolish loll of Moult-moustache and to Chinless caught by the last crumbling.

But busy interference meant for them no proper end.

And our comfort in the fingering rain was gone.

The new heads now look very firmly set and command us to be fearful and to note that they have prospects which we do not share.

W.H. Petty