Wke7i we Old Fogeys ivere Boys. 205 



worst. We never heard anything about that waggon-load 

 of hay, directly, though an uncle of one of the boys who 

 was staying with the warden let the cat out of the bag^ 

 and told his nephew that the wiirden laughed heartily 

 about it. I suppose the truth was that it was a second crop 

 of water-meadow hay of little value, or the waggon was not 

 hurt, and it went into the tenant's bill. 



Ah, the dear old warden ! he was the king of men, the 

 greatest athlete of his day at Oxford, and the hardest hitter 

 ever known at cricket, and the Winchester " Barter hit,'^ 

 the half volley, was named after him. He was as big as 

 Alfred Mynn, and the kindest-hearted man in the world, 

 though very impetuous. When in a scrape it was always 

 best to receive his fire and let him pass sentence of death 

 on you unheard. It was usually the same thing : you were 

 ruining your prospects for life, were bringing do^vn your 

 father's grey hair with sorrow to the grave, &c., etc. And 

 when he had quite done, the thing was to ask to be heard, 

 and to tell him the whole truth right out, and say you were 

 very sorry. He was ready enough to help you over the 

 stile, and it usually ended with a few kind words, for any 

 condonable offence, and a parting word, " If you are 

 writing to your father, will you remember me very kindly 

 to him ? — good bye. Now remember what I say." 



When Freeman, the American giant, a prizefighter, came 

 over here with Gaunt from New York and fought the Tipton 

 Slasher, after a short London career his health broke down, 

 and he was taken in at Winchester hospital. He stood 

 nearer seven than six feet, and weighed twenty-one stone 

 when in health ; but the poor fellow was sadly wasted, and 

 his brother giant, the warden, took care of him, and bap- 

 tized him himself, and watched him daily through his last 

 illness, and attended him when dying. 



When the Eton boys went to Winchester to play their 



