ABSTRACT
The University of St Andrews was turned over, good and proper, the other week in a film called Wills’ World. I watched with interest, because my father and all his siblings went there in the days when ‘poverty walked in a scarlet cloak’ and you took your own oatmeal. My cousin still owns, and wore in his own time there, the red cloak that my aunt had in 1928. Both my children had this ancient university on their UCAS lists. I have been there lately and found it a friendly, scholarly, pleasant place.
