ute to their customers. These
served admirably for kindling purposes. At times, however, they got
ugly, and once my friend, who was in a saloon talking to a customer,
was trapped and whiskey poured into his mouth. On another occasion I
noticed that the outer doors were shut and a couple of men backed up
against them while I was talking to the bartender over the counter,
and that a few other customers were closing in to repeat the same
experiment on me. However, they greatly overrated their own stock of
fitness and equally underrated my good training, for the scrimmage
went all my own way in a very short time.

If ever I told my football chums (for in those days I was playing
hard) of these adventures in a nether world, they always wanted to
come and cooperate; but I have always felt that reliance on physical
strength alone is only a menace when the odds are so universally in
favour of our friend the enemy. At this time also at St. Andrew's
Church, just across the Whitechapel Road from the hospital, the
clergyman was a fine athlete and good boxer. He was a brother of Lord
Wenlock, and was one night returning from a mission service in the
Highway when he was set upon by footpads and robbed of everything,
including the boots off his feet. Meantime "Jack the Ripper" was also
giving our residential section a most unsavoury reputation.

My long vacations at this time were always taken on the sea. My
brother and I used to hire an old fishing smack called the "Oyster,"
which we rechristened the "Roysterer." This we fitted out,
provisioned, and put to sea in with an entirely untrained crew, and
without even the convention of caring where we were bound so long as
the winds bore us cheerily along. My brother was always cook--and
never was there a better. We believed that he would have made a mark
in the world as a chef, from his ability to satisfy our appetites and
cater to our desires out of so ill-supplied a galley. We always took
our departure from the north coast of Anglesea--a beautiful spot, and
to us especially attractive as being so entirely out of the run of
traffic that we could do exactly as we pleased. We invariably took our
fishing gear with us, and thus never wanted for fresh food. We could
replenish our bread, milk, butter, and egg supply at the numerous
small ports at which we called. The first year the crew consisted of
my brother and me--skipper, mate, and cook between us--and an Oxford
boating friend as second