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tracks of a rolling stone-第1章

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Tracks of a Rolling Stone

by Henry J。 Coke




PREFACE TO SECOND EDITION。


THE First Edition of this book was written; from beginning to  end; in the short space of five months; without the aid of  diary or notes; beyond those cited as such from a former  work。

The Author; having no expectation that his reminiscences  would be received with the kind indulgence of which this  Second Edition is the proof; with diffidence ventured to tell  so many tales connected with his own unimportant life as he  has done。  Emboldened by the reception his 'Tracks' have met  with; he now adds a few stories which he trusts may further  amuse its readers。

June 1905。




CHAPTER I



WE know more of the early days of the Pyramids or of ancient  Babylon than we do of our own。  The Stone age; the dragons of  the prime; are not more remote from us than is our earliest  childhood。  It is not so long ago for any of us; and yet; our  memories of it are but veiled spectres wandering in the mazes  of some foregone existence。

Are we really trailing clouds of glory from afar?  Or are our  'forgettings' of the outer Eden only?  Or; setting poetry  aside; are they perhaps the quickening germs of all past  heredity … an epitome of our race and its descent?  At any  rate THEN; if ever; our lives are such stuff as dreams are  made of。  There is no connected story of events; thoughts;  acts; or feelings。  We try in vain to re…collect; but the  secrets of the grave are not more inviolable; … for the  beginnings; like the endings; of life are lost in darkness。

It is very difficult to affix a date to any relic of that dim  past。  We may have a distinct remembrance of some pleasure;  some pain; some fright; some accident; but the vivid does not  help us to chronicle with accuracy。  A year or two makes a  vast difference in our ability。  We can remember well enough  when we donned the 'CAUDA VIRILIS;' but not when we left off  petticoats。

The first remembrance to which I can correctly tack a date is  the death of George IV。  I was between three and four years  old。  My recollection of the fact is perfectly distinct …  distinct by its association with other facts; then far more  weighty to me than the death of a king。

I was watching with rapture; for the first time; the spinning  of a peg…top by one of the grooms in the stable yard; when  the coachman; who had just driven my mother home; announced  the historic news。  In a few minutes four or five servants …  maids and men … came running to the stables to learn  particulars; and the peg…top; to my sorrow; had to be  abandoned for gossip and flirtation。  We were a long way from  street criers … indeed; quite out of town。  My father's house  was in Kensington; a little further west than the present  museum。  It was completely surrounded by fields and hedges。   I mention the fact merely to show to what age definite memory  can be authentically assigned。  Doubtless we have much  earlier remembrances; though we must reckon these by days; or  by months at the outside。  The relativity of the reckoning  would seem to make Time indeed a 'Form of Thought。'

Two or three reminiscences of my childhood have stuck to me;  some of them on account of their comicality。  I was taken to  a children's ball at St。 James's Palace。  In my mind's eye I  have but one distinct vision of it。  I cannot see the crowd …  there was nothing to distinguish that from what I have so  often seen since; nor the court dresses; nor the soldiers  even; who always attract a child's attention in the streets;  but I see a raised dais on which were two thrones。  William  IV。 sat on one; Queen Adelaide on the other。  I cannot say  whether we were marched past in turn; or how I came there。   But I remember the look of the king in his naval uniform。  I  remember his white kerseymere breeches; and pink silk  stockings; and buckled shoes。  He took me between his knees;  and asked; 'Well; what are you going to be; my little man?'

'A sailor;' said I; with brazen simplicity。

'Going to avenge the death of Nelson … eh?  Fond o' sugar… plums?'

'Ye…es;' said I; taking a mental inventory of stars and  anchor buttons。

Upon this; he fetched from the depths of his waistcoat pocket  a capacious gold box; and opened it with a tap; as though he  were about to offer me a pinch of snuff。  'There's for you;'  said he。

I helped myself; unawed by the situation; and with my small  fist clutching the bonbons; was passed on to Queen Adelaide。   She gave me a kiss; for form's sake; I thought; and I  scuttled back to my mother。

But here followed the shocking part of the ENFANT TERRIBLE'S  adventure。  Not quite sure of Her Majesty's identity … I had  never heard there was a Queen … I naively asked my mother; in  a very audible stage…whisper; 'Who is the old lady with … ?'   My mother dragged me off the instant she had made her  curtsey。  She had a quick sense of humour; and; judging from  her laughter; when she told her story to another lady in the  supper room; I fancied I had said or done something very  funny。  I was rather disconcerted at being seriously  admonished; and told I must never again comment upon the  breath of ladies who condescended to kiss; or to speak to;  me。

While we lived at Kensington; Lord Anglesey used often to pay  my mother a visit。  She had told me the story of the battle  of Waterloo; in which my Uncle George … 6th Lord Albemarle …  had taken part; and related how Lord Anglesey had lost a leg  there; and how one of his legs was made of cork。  Lord  Anglesey was a great dandy。  The cut of the Paget hat was an  heirloom for the next generation or two; and the gallant  Marquis' boots and tightly…strapped trousers were patterns of  polish and precision。  The limp was perceptible; but of which  leg; was; in spite of careful investigation; beyond my  diagnosis。  His presence provoked my curiosity; till one fine  day it became too strong for resistance。  While he was busily  engaged in conversation with my mother; I; watching for the  chance; sidled up to his chair; and as soon as he looked  away; rammed my heel on to his toes。  They were his toes。   And considering the jump and the oath which instantly  responded to my test; I am persuaded they were abnormally  tender ones。  They might have been made of corns; certainly  not of cork。

Another discovery I made about this period was; for me at  least; a 'record':  it happened at Quidenham … my grandfather  the 4th Lord Albemarle's place。

Some excursion was afoot; which needed an early breakfast。   When this was half over; one married couple were missing。  My  grandfather called me to him (I was playing with another  small boy in one of the window bays)。  'Go and tell Lady  Maria; with my love;' said he; 'that we shall start in half  an hour。  Stop; stop a minute。  Be sure you knock at the  door。'  I obeyed orders … I knocked at the door; but failed  to wait for an answer。  I entered without it。  And what did I  behold?  Lady Maria was still in bed; and by the side of Lady  M。 was; very naturally; Lady M。's husband; also in bed and  fast asleep。  At first I could hardly believe my senses。  It  was within the range of my experience that boys of my age 
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