EARLY DAYS 



a Newfoundland I believe, that my father kept, and which 

 was notorious for its thefts from the butchers' shops of the 

 town. 



My Grandfather Hooker's house in Magdalen Street, 

 Norwich, I remember even better, where my grandmother 

 used to show me the glazed drawers of his insect cabinet. 

 On leaving Halesworth for Glasgow, my father sold his insects 

 to Mr. Spar shall of that city, a well-known collector. The 

 collection is now in the Norwich Museum. Also I well re- 

 member his little garden and greenhouse of succulent plants, 

 and on seeing a Coccinella on a post, repeating to it the stave : 



Bishop Bishop Barnabee 

 When will your marriage be ? 

 If it be to-morrow's day, 

 Take your wings and fly away. 



Of my Grandfather Turner's house' in Yarmouth, I 

 remember being carried there in my nurse's arms early in 

 1821, on the eve of my mother taking myself, brother and 

 sisters to Glasgow, where my father, who had taken up 

 his Professorship in the previous summer, was awaiting us. 

 My grandfather occupied the house of Gurney's Bank, of 

 which he was a resident Director. I remember distinctly 

 the railings before the Bank, its drawing-room, and my 

 aunts' seizing me from my nurse, dancing with me round the 

 room, and striking the harp to amuse me. Also I remember 

 the walls of the room being covered with pictures of which 

 my grandfather had a small but very choice collection. This 

 collection was sold after my grandfather's death in 1858. 

 Some of the pictures, notably the Titian, a Hobbema and, I 

 think, a Greuze and one or more Cotmans are in the Wallace 

 Collection. 



Of the journey from Yarmouth to Glasgow by post 

 horses I have a distinct recollection, during which my 

 mother caught ague in crossing the Fens, with which she was 

 troubled for many years. Of incidents I can only remember 

 my brother running to eat a cake of white soap, mistaking it 

 for an apple. I also distinctly remember the picturesque 

 place, Inn of Beattock Bridge, in Dumfriesshire, but why 

 I cannot tell. 



My next memory is the arrival in Glasgow by night, and 

 going into lodgings (No. 1, Bath Street) which my father had 



