" But, if I chose to walk six or seven miles along the coast... I might spend as pocket-money the railway fare I thus saved. Such considerable sums I fostered in order to buy with them editions of the poets. These were not in those days, as they are now, at the beck and call of every purse, and the attainment of each little masterpiece was a separate triumph. In particular I shall never forget the excitement of teaching at last the exorbitant price the bookseller asked for the only, although imperfect, edition of the poems of S.T.Coleridge. At last I could meet his demand, and my friend and I went down to consummate the solemn purchase. Comimg away with our treasure, we read aloud from the oranged-coloured volume, in turns, as we strolled along, until at last we sat down on the bulging foot of an elm-tree in a secluded lane. Here we stayed, in a sort of poetical nirvana, reading, forgetting the passage of time, until the hour of our neglected mid-day meal was! a long while past, and we had to hurry home to bread and chees and a scolding."