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The Personal Life of David Livingstone by William Garden Blaikie
page 52 of 618 (08%)
country churchyard which was the burial-place of John Locke. In a place
so quiet, and a life so ordinary as that of a student, there did not
occur many events worthy of recital. I will, however, mention one or
two things, because they give an insight--a kind of prophetic
glance--into Livingstone's after-career.

"One foggy November morning, at three o'clock, he set out from Ongar to
walk to London to see a relative of his father's[11]. It was about
twenty-seven miles to the house he sought. After spending a few hours
with his relation, he set out to return on foot to Ongar. Just out of
London, near Edmonton, a lady had been thrown out of a gig. She lay
stunned on the road. Livingston immediately went to her, helped to carry
her into a house close by, and having examined her and found no bones
broken, and recommending a doctor to be called, he resumed his weary
tramp. Weary and footsore, when he reached Stanford Rivers he missed his
way, and finding after some time that he was wrong, he felt so dead-beat
that he was inclined to lie down and sleep; but finding a directing-post
he climbed it, and by the light of the stars deciphered enough to know
his whereabouts. About twelve that Saturday night he reached Ongar,
white as a sheet, and so tired he could hardly utter a word. I gave him
a basin of bread and milk, and I am not exaggerating when I say I put
him to bed. He fell at once asleep, and did not awake till noonday had
passed on Sunday.

[Footnote 11: We learn from the family that the precise object of the
visit was to transact some business for his eldest brother, who had
begun to deal in lace. In the darkness of the morning Livingstone fell
into a ditch, smearing his clothes, and not improving his appearance for
smart business purposes. The day was spent in going about in London from
shop to shop, greatly increasing Livingstone's fatigue.]
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