MY FATHER. 



245 



their voices, "We'll Roll the Old 

 Chariot Along," a performance which 

 caused immense joy to the ragged 

 urchins who pursued us. It was en- 

 tirely typical of him to be helping 

 these two girls. They were having a 

 ])retty horrible time of it, " storming " 

 Darlington, therefore he rushed to the 

 rescue. In those days the Salvation 

 Army was being persecuted most vigor- 

 ousl)', and those who stood up for its 

 soldiers came in for a fair share them- 

 selves. My father ever championed the 

 oppressed and battled for those who 

 had none to help them. This assault by 

 the Salvation lasses on Darlington 

 brought father and General Booth to- 

 gether for the first time, a connection 

 which lasted throughout the rest of their 

 lives, and which was of untold good to 

 countless thousands the world over. The 

 beginning of the friendship arose out of 

 a letter father sent the General, up- 

 braiding him for allowing two frail 

 girls to attempt such a herculean task 

 in the slums of themorthern city. " If," 

 he said, " they die from the strain — and 

 one of them is consumptive — you should 

 be tried for manslaughter!" To which 

 the General replied : " You would never 

 make a general, for a successful com- 

 mander must not hesitate to sacrifice his 

 soldiers if thereby the fortress is won." 

 Father did much for the lasses at Dar- 

 lington, and ever after always held out 

 a helping hand to any Salvation soldier 

 he came across. 



A PONY DINNER. 



We had a good deal of ground round 

 our house, which was a mile away from 

 its neighbour and several from Dar- 

 lington. Although I was a very small 

 boy when we left it for London, I can 

 still remember the joyous times we used 

 to have wdth father when the hay was 

 cut, and how he used to show us the 

 wonders of nature, never allowing us to 

 touch a bird's nest, but encouraging us 

 to find as many of them as possible. 



He used to ride a pony called "Jessie" 

 down every night to his office in Dar- 

 lington, and return in the early hours of 

 the morning. He had an utter disregard 

 for convention in any shape or form, 

 and he used to tell with glee how when, 

 owing to a bad fall, this pony had to 

 be shot, he invited the doctor and one 

 or two other friends to dinner and re- 

 galed them on horse without their dis- 

 covering the fact ! I believe some of 

 them never forgave him for it, though. 



AT THE LOCAL CHAPEl . 



\\'e used to look forward to thunder- 

 storms, because then he took us all out 

 into the porch and we were keen to 

 count the interval between flash and 

 clap to tell the distance the storm was 

 away. This he did with all of us save 

 my youngest sister, who has not now 

 the same joy in a thunderstorm that he 

 inculcated into us. The onh' other 

 memory I have of Darlington in which 

 he flncls place, was an episode which 

 occurred in chapel. We w^ent regularly 

 to the Congregational Church, of which 

 body he was a devout member all his 

 life, and occupied the front pew in the 

 gallery. Father, although physically 

 immensely strong, had rather a weak 

 back, which was the cause of his liking 

 to " sit on his shoulders," to quote the 

 late Edmund Garrett's witty description 

 of his chief. In order to assume his 

 favourite position in church, father used 

 to prop himself up by putting his knees 

 against the front of the gallery beneath 

 the hymn-board. On one occasion the 

 pressure was too great, and the con- 

 gregation was scandalised to see, and 

 hear, two of the front boards in the gal- 

 lery suddenly crack outwards ! Father 

 always attended chapel regularly, morn- 

 ing and evening, to the end, and sang 

 with a whole-hearted vigour good to 

 hear, although, alas ! the mellow and 

 sonorous voice, when raised in song, was 

 usually hopelessly out of tune! 

 (To he contimicd.) 



