allowed to patrol the streets, which, however, were
closely watched, and it seemed an impossibility for him to pass the
sentinels. But John had knocked about the world a good deal, and had had
his wits sharpened, and by a "theatrical stratagem" he managed to evade
the outposts and to make his escape. He stopped at a dye-house some
distance out of Washington, and was fortunate enough there to meet with a
friend from his native district--Sam Brook, a theatrical amateur, from
Crossflatts, near Bingley. Sam furnished his erstwhile companion of the
stage with a dyer's wearing apparel, and, thus disguised, Spencer managed
to get back to the place where he had been captured, and to recover the
notes which he had deposited with the person mentioned. With this money
Spencer seems to have got back to England. Arrived at Keighley, he sent
for me, and nothing would satisfy him but that I should break off work at
once and help him, so to speak, to "mak t' brass fly." Together we
travelled nearly all over Great Britain, and also paid a visit to Paris.
It was in the French capital that Spencer found the money getting
"beautifully less," and he concluded that it would be better for all
concerned if we returned to Keighley. This we did. Soon after, Spencer
took up a position as traveller for the Bradford Old Brewery Company. But
the English climate did not seem to suit him--far from it; there were
certain peculiarities about his constitution which said as much. It was
with much pain that one morning I heard of his death, which had taken
place very suddenly at the house of his father, who was landlord of the
Bay Horse Inn. The Rev Mr Goodman, then the Baptist minister, officiated
at the funeral of the deceased, and, I recollect, spoke of the awful
suddenness of death. His remarks, I felt, were directed to myself, and I
was very uncomfortable the while. Among the many persons present at the
funeral was "Doctor" John Walton, who was at one time in partnership with
Mr Anthony Spencer and Mr Henry Newton as herbalists, &c.

WITH THE LATE MR EDWIN WAUGH

On one particular evening which has left its imprint indelibly on my
mind, I spent a few pleasant hours with a handful of local celebrities in
the Commercial Inn. The chief of the party was the celebrated Lancashire
poet, the late Mr Edwin Waugh, who had come to Keighley to give readings
in the old Mechanic's Hall, and was invited to join us. Another member of
our party was Mr John Hop