An Autobiography of an Ancient Athlete & Antiquarian

124 AUTOBIOGRAPHY During the early part of October R.H. and his sister– in-law stopped at the cottage, and he began to work at a paper on the Kenninghall Household Accounts MS. (see Norf. Archy. xv., p. 51). On the 23rd Nov. I cycled to Dereham and back quite early, about 33 miles (?). Another long ride on the 7th was to Cawston, Marsh's garden look– ing beautiful. Several other good rides and lecturing at St. Peter Mancroft on 13th November, and I had the last fast walk I ever had to Horsford with M.M.N. to lunch and back when I rather astonished her showing some of my old walking form ! On the 20th my very old athletic friend, Pullam Markham Evans, died at Chelsea, aged 6r. I should have thought he would have lived to be 100, for he was extremely healthy, and only a trifle older than I. On the 22nd I went to see the enormous ox at Bostock's Circus, almost as striking an anirual as the gigantic Spanish donkey which had fairly frightened me at Selhurst many years before. Later on I lectured in Pockthorpe, &c., at the Y.M.C.A., to a very chilly audience, and I don't blame them, for I was 26 minutes over the hour, a fault I never repeated, and never again exceeded the hour. On the 3rd December poor G.W.B. shot himself at Mortlake, having morbid feelings that he was ruined. He need not have done so, for many of his friends would have helped him, and so would the Stock Exchange (who behaved as liberally as they always do) to his widow and children. His death was a great loss to me, for he had been a very cheery companion to me and mine for many years, and was a special favourite with my wife and family, and always more than welcome to us. The end of the year was a very dreary one for me. I lectured once or twice more, ex., on " Bygone Sport and Modern Athletics." D.M.R. came down for Christmas, but my wife was very bad, and we had so many of the family that we were fairly packed up. P.B.F.'s parish dinner on the 29th was as amusing as ever, and the next day I actually shot respectably for me! On the 3rd I rode over on a bitter cold day about 30 miles, to arrange through R. J. W. Purdy for Gilly, who had got tired of the sea, to learn farming at Thwaite Hall

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