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THE SOUTHAMPTON HUNDREDS

25

One night some local lads hang about threateningly at the student union building, not being let in to the bar, and giving off a ‘Stitch this, student wanker’ air, without quite doing anything. This is way too much like being stopped on the way home from school by Steve Dawkins and Danny Griffin for my liking, and as we walk back to hall, they follow us. The tallest, most solidly built and unflappable of my new public school chums stops and mollifies them while we walk ahead. He catches us up.”Ah, they’re alright,” he says, “they’re just a bit chippy.”