Touching

 Thursday, December 10th., Comarques, Thorpe-le-Soken.

Just back from Manchester. Successful visit.

I went up by Midland Railway, through the Potteries. No change there as far as I could see. Dark, smoky, like a stain on the land after the green fields of south Staffs. Yet it pulled at my heart. I read somewhere that there is a theory that there is a sort of invisible thread that connects a person to his place of birth. All bosh really, but still ....

Touching scene in Manchester. On arrival at Central Station a young officer who had slept, and in between had made much litter in the train, was met by his family one by one. First father. "Hello Dad," etc. Then little sister running along; then big sister, more reserved, but very welcoming with a touch of sisterly superiority. All this was a very agreeable sight on the worn wooden platform, strangely out of date, of the Central Station. But he will have to go back!