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chaff from the rest of the company. Room was made for the
new arrivals. Philip found himself sitting between an old
labourer in corduroys, with string tied under his knees, and
a shiny-faced lad of seventeen with a love-lock neatly plas-
tered on his red forehead. Athelny insisted on trying his
hand at the throwing of rings. He backed himself for half a
pint and won it. As he drank the loser’s health he said:
‘I would sooner have won this than won the Derby, my
boy.’
He was an outlandish figure, with his wide-brimmed hat
and pointed beard, among those country folk, and it was
easy to see that they thought him very queer; but his spir-
its were so high, his enthusiasm so contagious, that it was
impossible not to like him. Conversation went easily. A cer-
tain number of pleasantries were exchanged in the broad,
slow accent of the Isle of Thanet, and there was uproarious
laughter at the sallies of the local wag. A pleasant gather-
ing! It would have been a hard-hearted person who did not
feel a glow of satisfaction in his fellows. Philip’s eyes wan-
dered out of the window where it was bright and sunny still;
there were little white curtains in it tied up with red ribbon
like those of a cottage window, and on the sill were pots of
geraniums. In due course one by one the idlers got up and
sauntered back to the meadow where supper was cooking.
‘I expect you’ll be ready for your bed,’ said Mrs. Athelny
to Philip. ‘You’re not used to getting up at five and staying
in the open air all day.’
‘You’re coming to bathe with us, Uncle Phil, aren’t you?’
the boys cried.

Of Human Bondage