W. G. On Toast
While assisting with the cataloguing of the Professor's extensive archive, I came across a photograph of a slice of toast. The Professor poured himself a small glass of Beaumont Cranfield Memorial Scrumpy Cider, settled into his favourite armchair and began to explain: “One summer many years ago, I found myself acting as the captain of a benighted team of academics and other ne'er-do-wells in a rain-shortened match at Whitchurch Canonicorum. Having won the toss, I decided to bat second. It was a thoroughgoing disaster. At breakfast the next day, the face of W.G. Grace appeared on my toast as if to mock me. What you see before you is a photographic representation of that slice of toast. At least, I think it's W.G., although some have expressed the belief that it may, in fact, be Dame Edith Sitwell; herself a fine orthodox left-arm spinner.” The Professor stared wistfully into his empty glass and continued in a solemn tone, “I ate the toast with marmalade. It's what W.G.