FIFTY YEARS OF A SHOWMAN'S LIFE 



convey to the October meeting of the Council my 

 inability to be present and the reason why. 



Were it not for the sequel there would be little 

 excuse for this mention of a personal disability. 

 But it is not the lot of every official to serve a 

 governing body capable of transforming a mourn- 

 ful reflection into a sunny memory. Yet it is 

 not too much to say that this represented the 

 answer I received from the Council to my com- 

 munication ; an answer so generous in its terms, 

 so affectionate in its sympathy, that it stirred 

 me to the very depths. It took the form of an 

 illuminated address, signed by every member of 

 the Council available, and accompanying this 

 was a generous presentation represented by "a 

 scrap of paper." The autograph-signatures to 

 the address are an enduring reminder of many 

 old and valued friendships, but, beyond this, the 

 address itself is a treasure to covet for the sake of 

 the artistic beauty of design and colour lavished 

 upon it, and of the skilled craftsmanship which 

 rendered the shrine enclosing it worthy of its 

 contents. If, as the poet has told us, "a thing 

 of beauty is a joy for ever," its longevity is assured, 

 whilst nothing could exceed the grace and delicacy 

 characterizing the presentation. If anything could 

 add to the worth of such a gift, or to the pleasure 

 of receiving it, it was supplied when it came to me 

 by the hands of Lord Bath, one of the staunchest 

 and most single-minded of friends both of the 

 Society and myself. 



This chapter says more than I like about 

 myself, but common gratitude compels me to 

 acknowledge an indebtedness far beyond my 

 powers to repay. 



292 



