[page]  12

Being a lonely little boy, a good deal the oldest of my generation, I …. [imitated my sporting heroes] in solitude. A kind gardener made me some Rugby goal-posts in miniature, and with these and a real Rugby ball I played many great matches; nor have I yet forgotten the sensation of grounding the ball in the corner under the branches of the plane tree for the winning try after a passing run the whole length of the lawn.

[page] 16

It is a pleasure to think that, however far London may spread out its tentacles, the house and the garden, the big meadow and the Sand Walk, where my grandfather used religiously to take his prescribed number of turns, will remain unscathed for ever. It can never, of course, lose its interest as a memorial; but some day I think it will gain an interest almost as great in showing the way in which a country gentleman, "of easy fortune" as Miss Austen would say, lived in the middle of the nineteenth century.'

[page] 21

I wish I could honestly say that I remember my grandfather well, but all I can recall clearly are one or two little walks that I went with him in solitary splendour, memories so mild and dull that they must be my own because no-one could have invented them for me. …. Only the day of his death is vivid enough.  My father told me very gently that he had been ill and that I should not see him again; but  I, aged five and a half, though sorry and awe-stricken, felt bound to explain that I knew all about deadness.  Then we went out for  a walk, seeing my aunts crying in the drawing-room as we went by  the long windows, and subsequently picked lords and ladies in the little wood which is called the Sand Walk.'

[page] 24

[Uncle Horace] was supposed to know all about trains and was therefore connected in my mind with the traction engine at work in a neighbouring farm, which periodically came with earth-shaking tread down the narrow lane past the house. There was and still is, I am glad to say, a particular spot in the flint wall of Down House sacred to the watching of traction engines. Close to it there was a bend in the road, and so the excitement grew steadily, for the sound of the engine's onslaught  was heard long before itself was visible. At last, when the suspense could hardly be borne, there came round the corner the man with the red and green flags, just like the flags belonging to the naughty little boys who laughed at the little blackamoor in Shockheaded Peter. Then, oh heavens! There was the engine right upon one. It passed too soon out of sight, and with that the groom and the housemaids and even the cook who had rushed out into the stableyard to see it, went flatly and sadly back to work, but it could still be heard thundering in the distance right through the village. As long as a sound could be heard I remained glued to the wall and only with the last dying throb did I come down to earth again.'

[page] 32

…. The sentry box in the orchard which the butler made for me'.