An Autobiography of an Ancient Athlete & Antiquarian

22 AUTOBIOGRAPHY in Fulham Churchyard, taking long walks to Croydon and Kingston (at which latter I used to get a copious tea at a small coffee shop for 2½d.), attempting to smoke and becoming ill therefrom, occasionally beguiling Howlett into accompanying me, and leaving him footsore and weary, were my chief amusements during the latter half of the year. On the 14th October I saw one of the first of the bogus races between Deerfoot and a lot of inferior run– ners; and on the 15th I had a long night walk, made extra melancholy by the incessant tolling of Church bells for the death of Prince Albert. At the end of December, being then just over 18, I walked myself to Great Bookham and back, 41 miles, with– out stopping or sitting down, in about IO hours; one of the coldest walks I ever had, and done 011 some mutton sandwiches I took with me, and a bottle of lemonade which I bought at Leatherhead. I was very chafed and footsore but hardly tired. Personally I look upon this as the best performance I ever did. By the way I may, as a practical athlete all my life, say that I strongly disbelieve the story of George Barrow's walk to London on a small ration of apples and beer. Very tall men are seldom good walkers. On 23rd April, 1862, I obtained a reading room ticket for the British Museum, and used it a great deal till a new rule came in prohibiting anyone under 21 holding a ticket, and did not visit the room again for many years, having transferred my allegiance to the Public Record Office, to which I went :first in July, r864, so I fancy I must now be one of the oldest readers there. When I was in full work at the Norfolk Fines there, during my clerkship to my father, I used to allocate my "dinner hour" when in Chancery Lane to 10 mins. at ·' Prossers" (usually having for food a lump of cold turbot, two cold sausages and bread, and half-pint of bitter beer), and 50 mins. at the Record Office, during which in time I got to annotate 50 fines to the hour. This was doubted by the late Mr. Muskett, to whom I made the brutal retort I never said he could do it. In April I walked home from St. Alban's with Howlett (on our way the guard of the train stopped it to get off and rob a blackbird's nest he had obviously marked down on a previous journey !) and next month beat a man