(1) It was at Falmouth I made the acquaintance of the late Mr Anthony Trollope. He had been sent into Cornwall, I think in 1849 or 1850, to ‘revise the Rural Posts’, a task about as easy for a stranger in those days as to lay out a post road on the Upper Congo. I remember his stalking into the office, booted and spurred, much to the consternation of the maiden lady in charge. He seemed to us then the very incarnation of a martinet, though I have since heard that he really was a kind-hearted man, and that this was the way he had of showing it. At any rate, he frightened the unfortunate rural messenger, whose walk he was about to test, almost out of his wits. The man had £1 of penny stamps — then unperforated — to take to the sub-office at Constantine and, flurried at the presence of so fierce looking a gentleman, he clapped them into his hat! The day was hot, and before they reached their journey’s end the stamps had stuck so closely and firmly to poor old Pollard’s head, that all the ingenuity they could muster could not detach them. Mr Trollope roared at the fun, and brought the man back, stamps and all, so that the aid of a barber might be invoked to release him from his predicament.
KeywordsDust Rubber Arena Heroine Hyde
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