The Brighton of my Boyhood 



some clue to their several identities. 

 They were very simple people with un- 

 eventful histories, and yet such, I think, as 

 may not wholly fail in winning the interest 

 and affection of a kindly hearted reader. 



I think we were what people call "a. 

 very united family." The thought of a 

 possible death among us crept very early 

 into my mind, and was a secret dread 

 which returned at intervals, generally on 

 Sunday evenings, wet nights, and other 

 dreary seasons for several years : indeed 

 for a long period I privately added to my 

 nightly prayers a petition that we, the 

 whole family including old Sukie and 

 Sprightly the outside porter, might all die 

 in the same moment of time, so that no one 

 should be left to lament the others. Our 

 household at this time consisted of my 

 parents, Mary, Esther, Fred and myself; 

 and old Sukie ; and I might add Cousin 

 Ridley, for he was always in and about the 

 the place when not on the coach. 



My Father was a Brighton coachmaster, 

 and one of the very first men who drove 

 a coach, properly so-called, between 

 Briofhton and London. He was an 

 illiterate man, and yet no bumpkin ; in- 

 capable of harbouring ill-will or suspecting 

 an injury ; stubbornly upright, gentle with 

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