as recompensed for the weary childhood years of suffering
and inability. Athletic sports were a passion with him in his manhood,
as I have said. In 1839 he rented a cottage at Petersham, not far from
London "where," to quote from Mr. Forster, "the extensive garden grounds
admitted of much athletic competition, in which Dickens, for the most
part, held his own against even such accomplished athletes as Maclise and
Mr. Beard. Bar leaping, bowling and quoits were among the games carried
on with the greatest ardor, and in sustained energy Dickens certainly
distanced every competitor. Even the lighter recreations of battledore
and bagatelle were pursued with relentless activity. At such amusements
as the Petersham races, in those days rather celebrated, and which he
visited daily while they lasted, he worked much harder than the running
horses did."

Riding was a favorite recreation at all times with my father, and he was
constantly inviting one or another of his friends to bear him company on
these excursions. Always fond, in his leisure hours, of companions, he
seemed to find his rides and walks quite incomplete if made alone. He
writes on one occasion: "What think you of a fifteen-mile ride out, ditto
in, and a lunch on the road, with a wind-up of six o'clock dinner in
Doughty Street?" And again: "Not knowing whether my head was off or on,
it became so addled with work, I have gone riding over the old road, and
shall be truly delighted to meet or be overtaken by you." As a young man
he was extremely fond of riding, but as I never remember seeing him on
horseback I think he must have deprived himself of this pastime soon
after his marriage.

But walking was, perhaps, his chiefest pleasure, and the country lanes
and city streets alike found him a close observer of their beauties and
interests. He was a rapid walker, his usual pace being four miles an
hour, and to keep step with him required energy and activity similar to
his own. In many of his letters he speaks with most evident enjoyment of
this pastime. In one he writes: "What a brilliant morning for a country
walk! I start precisely--precisely, mind--at half-past one. Come, come,
come and walk in the green lanes!" Again: "You don't feel disposed, do
you, to muffle yourself up and start off with me for a good, brisk walk
over Hampstead Heath?"

Outdoor games of the simpler kinds delighted him. Battledore and
shuttlecock was played constantly in the gard