The wall-flower—the wall-flower! How beautiful it blooms' It gleams above the ruined tower, Like sunlight over tombs;

Let us not sentimentalize things just because they are old. Getting all dewy-eyed about it because it was started in the 17th century doesn't make sense when we're talking about the town dump.

Here I used to enjoy myself in playing about the bridge stairs, and often in the watermen's wherries, with other boys. On one of these occasions there was another boy with me in a wherry, and we went out into the current of the river: while we were there two more stout boys came to us in another wherry, and, abusing us for taking the boat, desired me to get into the other wherry-boat. Accordingly I went to get out of the wherry I was in; but just as I had got one of my feet into the other boat the boys shoved it off, so that I fell into the Thames; and, not being able to swim, I should unavoidably have been drowned, but for the assistance of some watermen who providentially came to my relief.

As well as trade union opposition when the new Class 195s arrived, they could not work 'out of the box' due to gauge clearance issues.