CHAPTER X 



AROUND HAMPTON COURT 



On a certain Eas'ter Monday at East Molesey I 

 was busy observing the populace (bless their 

 hearts !) and levelling myself down from a ridicu- 

 lous imaginary platform, and writing myself down, 

 too, for a prig, which is, I take it, the latter-day 

 equivalent for a Pharisee. There wasn't much 

 of the Pharisee left about me by the time I had 

 finished lecturing myself with some very pro- 

 nounced Bank Holiday folk for text. It was like 

 this. I happened to be one of a little group 

 observing the manners and customs of a small 

 party of East-Enders, who were, so to speak, 

 piping and dancing in the market-place and doing 

 so like anything at ten o'clock in the morning. 

 For market-place please read the pavement out- 

 side Mr Georofe Brown's Prince of Wales' Hotel 

 at Molesey. Mr Brown, a relic of the ring, is, I 

 am glad to hear, getting into good health again. 

 What a many years have flown since old George 

 Brown and Alec Keene began racecourse refresh- 

 ment catering ! Keene and Brown's booth at 

 Happy Hampton was a great institution, with 

 ''everything iced but the welcome," to quote their 

 advertisement issued for such occasions. But let 

 me get on with my festive party. 



125 



