A decision

Saturday, January 1st., Cadogan Square, London.

 

Very feeble this morning after the New Year's Eve carousing, and bed at 2.30. Too late for me nowadays! Towards noon I walked to South Kensington Museum to see the temporary exhibition of commercial printing and illustration. I met D.S. McColl there. He told me that some time since Tonks had been 'very much bitten with the idea' of illustrating "The Old Wives' Tale". I never knew before. Wonder if it might be worth a luxury illustrated edition? I remember that Sickert wanted to illustrate "Clayhanger". I am glad really that nothing came of either scheme because their conceptions of the characters would not be the same as mine, and would confuse my mental images.

Feeling physically better after this afternoon's sleep, but in a reflective mood. I got to thinking about New Years past. Remembered that once, as a youth, I walked up to Mow Cop on New Year's Day. Don't think I had been there before though of course I knew of it and its history. Nobody else there and I recall standing at the top looking out over the vast Cheshire plain. I felt as if I could see forever. Exhilarating. I stood there for ages, with my back to the smoke and gloom of the Potteries, just breathing deep lungfulls of clean air. I think it was then that I decided, though I didn't formulate the thought clearly, that I wouldn't stay in the Potteries, but would seek my fortune elsewhere. And that is what I have been doing since.

On my way back that day I stopped at St. James church in Newchapel to have a look at the grave of James Brindley. Not much to see, but I was told once by Uncle John that the Bennetts were descended illegitimately from 'Schemer' Brindley. When I got home my mother asked me what I had been doing out so long. "Oh, not much", I said.