WHEN I WAS YOUNG 7 



About a quarter of a mile above the Kennet 

 Bridge, the main road to the school, and above 

 " Treacle Bolly " (a long line of trees), was a narrow 

 part of the river which it was possible to ford in 

 summer. This point lay amidst water meadows 

 almost opposite the school chapel, whose gates 

 were kept locked. The great obstacle to entering 

 the school by this route was the high and spiked 

 palings, about eleven feet high, round the school 

 quadrangle. I had never been over them, and 

 doubted my abiUty to climb them, but resolved to 

 try as my only chance. 



Rapidly descending the beech, I ran all the way 

 down the chalk hills, avoided the Kennet Bridge, 

 where Pat might still be waiting, raced through 

 " Treacle Bolly," and pulling off my trousers, socks 

 and boots, waded the river, which took me to the 

 armpits. Once on the other side, I redressed and 

 stuffed my shirt, which had, of course, become 

 soaked, into my trousers, and then ran across the 

 meadows till I reached the high palings of the school 

 quadrangle. Their height and formidable appear- 

 ance at first appalled me, but it had to be done. 



These iron palings, with long spikes on the top, 

 were more or less hidden from view from the school 

 side by a row of lime-trees, so, although the court- 

 yard was crowded — it was " call " time — only a few 

 boys saw my ineffectual efforts to climb the rail- 

 ings. I got to the top, and managed to get one leg 

 over, when, slipping on the spikes, one of them went 

 clean through my coat and held me fast. Had it 

 not been for the help of two good Samaritans, who 

 came to the rescue and released first the coat and 

 then myself, I should have been forced to call for 



