An Autobiography of an Ancient Athlete & Antiquarian

212 AUTOBIOGRAPHY Craigie, the tenant of Lammas Hall, was buried on the IIth June, and the same day the billeted men left for B1ickJing, having :first drunk to the health of my boy at the Front. Ou the 14th R.H. and I motored over to Lynn, he pursuing his Lyun researches; we stopped at the "Globe" as usual. Coming back we got into trouble in a ford at Fakenham before we went on to Walsingham, which he was anxious to see, and coming back we had further trouble close home. Another trouble I made for myself by taking the wrong train coming back from Norwich, and having to walk from Worstead to Scottow " Horse Shoes '' carrying a heavy bag, which made me simply dog-tired. Next day we paid a rough pilgrimage to Irstead, a place which had sad memories for R.H. The summer was at times bleak in the extreme, and we actually had to have a fire on Midsummer's Eve-a thing unheard of in my memory, but repeated on the 16th July ! On the 3rd July I had my last pony-cart drive to Norwich, as Sexton sold his pony the next week. We motored over with Purdy through Norwich to Harleston "Swan,'' but the war had told on the entertainment. My Scotch housekeeper left me on the 12th August, having been with me nearly four years. An admirable housekeeper and cook, and very" Scotch." Kitty came to replace her next day. On the 14th Edward Burtt, one of the fourth generation of our family friends, was killed ou the troopship Royal Edward. He had volunteered, though quite elderly, to join the Army, as so many of my connections had done. F.G.R. had been at Lynn, and I motored over to Fakenham to meet him. On the 1st September I went up to London in pursuit of a mare's nest, and slept at H.G.R.'s, returning back next day. I fancy this was my last visit to LondonL This week I motored over to the Memorial Service of Lieut. W. F. Norris at Wood Norton. He was the son and heir of W. E. Norris, the Hon. Secretary of our Archery Club, and was an unusually bright and popular young man, the first of the war victims I had known well, having been painlessly killed 011 the 25th August, just after he attained 21. I was never present at a more impressive service, or one·attended by more sincere mourners.