2b8 A Century 0} bamily Letters [CHAP, xvm 



One caning was for blotting his copy-book ! ! one for talking, 

 and others for not doing dictation or sums right. 



I have written to Mr Forrest and he promises to call 

 to-morrow. I am sure that nothing will cure a man who 

 has a habit of caning for such small offences. It shows 

 that he must rather like it. ... 



Sir John Lubbock was at the meeting, and the result 

 is, on Mr X. denying severity, that they scold him and let 

 him go on, telling the mothers however to inform against 

 him in future. They seemed to have ignored his omitting 

 to note his punishments. 



DOWN, Sept. 8 [1884]. 



The last fine day I was drawn to the Green- hill. I don't 

 believe I saw it last year. It looked so pretty and the lane 

 so grown and bowery, and put me in mind of times when 

 I used to sit and watch for him while he went further. I 

 shall try to get to the terrace below Stony field. 



She had a very special feeling about these two walks 

 which were associated with happy times, for it was a sure 

 sign of my father's feeling pretty well that he ventured from 

 his safe " Sand- walk." The path through Stonyfield led 

 down a pleasant field, over a stile, and then along a grassy 

 terrace, looking across the quiet green valley on to the woods 

 beyond. The terrace was sheltered from the north-east by 

 a rough shaw of beeches with an undergrowth of sloes, 

 traveller's joy, service-trees and hawthorn, and the bank 

 was particularly gay with the flowers that like a chalk 

 soil little yellow rock-rose, milkwort, lady's fingers, hare- 

 bells, scabious and gentian. There were rabbits in the shaw, 

 and Polly, the little fox-terrier, loved this walk too. My 

 father would pace to and fro, and my mother would some- 

 times sit on the dry chalky bank waiting for him, and be 

 pulled by him up the little steep pitch on the way home. 



The following letter was written after her return to 

 Cambridge. 



THE GROVE, Wednesday [Dec., 1884]. 



The dinner-party was very pleasant. Mr Clark looked 

 dejected at first, but they did not know whether it was the 

 imperfection of the lobster sauce or the champagne. He 





