EAELY DAYS 



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

 was notorious for its thefts from the butchers' shops of the^ .j 

 town. ^i 



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. Sparshall 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 ? j 



If it be to-morrow's day, i 



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 i 

 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 raihngs 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) whrch my father had 



