character. Nor is it hard to believe in the smugglers and their strings
of pack-horses making their way up from the lawless old villages of the
Weald, of which the memory then still lingered. {153}

George retained throughout life his deep love for Down. For the lawn
with its bright strip of flowers, and for the row of big lime trees that
bordered it; for the two yew trees between which we children had our
swing, and for many another characteristic which had become as dear and
as familiar to him as a human face. He retained his youthful love of the
"Sand-walk," a little wood far enough from the house to have for us a
romantic character of its own.

George loved the country round Down, and all its dry chalky valleys of
ploughed land, with "shaws," _i.e._ broad straggling hedges on their
crests, bordered by strips of flowery turf. The country is traversed by
many foot-paths; these George knew well and used skilfully in our walks,
in which he was generally the leader. His love for the house and the
neighbourhood was, I think, entangled with his deepest feelings. In
later years his children came with their parents to Down, and they
vividly remember his excited happiness, and how he enjoyed showing them
his ancient haunts.

In this retired region Charles Darwin's children led a singularly quiet
life, practically without friends, and dependent on their brothers and
sisters for companionship. George's earliest recollection was of
drumming with his spoon and fork on the nursery table because dinner was
late, while a barrel-organ played outside. Other memories were less
personal; for instance, the firing of guns when Sebastopol was supposed
to have been taken. His diary of 1852 shows a composite interest in
current events and in the picturesqueness of Natural History: "The Duke
is dead. Dodos are out of the world."

He perhaps carried rather far the good habit of re-reading one's
favourite authors. He told his children that for a year or so he read
through every day the story of Jack the Giant Killer, in a little
chap-book with coloured pictures. He early showed signs of the energy
which marked his character in later life. I am glad to remember that I
became his companion and willing slave. There was much playing at
soldiers, and I have a clear remembrance of our marching with toy guns
and knapsacks across the field to the Sand-walk. There we made our
bivouac with gingerbread, and milk warmed (and generally sm