Ann Smith 
Heenan in these meadows. ‘The rabble was as on 
Derby Day, with the heterogeneous crowds, the 
innumerable vehicles. Bishops were said to be 
there ; special trains brought in throngs of specta- 
tors. Indeed it was an Occasion. Long after- 
wards folk visited the spot, and even cut turf from 
the ring to take away as a souvenir. ‘The only 
connection Street Farm had with it was lending 
a towel for the prize-fighters ; but old Mr. Long- 
man was as pleased as anything to think that one 
of his meadows had been the scene of such a 
famous affair, Ann said. One of the kindest, 
nicest of old men, she remembered him to have 
been. When she had clean forgotten—if she 
ever knew—who won the fight, she still recalled 
Mr. Longman’s grey head and mild, venerable 
aspect. 
3 
Ir must have been soon after this that Ann 
left her home again to live with my mother and 
help with the young family of us, in Farnham. 
Her presence, as one of the household, is a part 
of my earliest recollections. Shall I ever forget 
her cautionary tales ? or, rather, shall I ever regain 
them properly? One of them was all right: it 
told how she, in her own childhood, had fallen 
through the ice on a pond (Slade’s Pond) she had 
been forbidden to venture upon. But another 
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