There were about twenty houses where he visited, but he seldom
accepted an invitation to dinner--it upset the regularity of his
life; besides, he belonged to no club and had no means of returning
hospitality. When two colonial friends called unexpectedly about
noon one day, soon after he settled in London, he went to the nearest
cook-shop in Fetter Lane and returned carrying a dish of hot roast
pork and greens. This was all very well once in a way, but not the
sort of thing to be repeated indefinitely.

On Thursdays, instead of going to the Museum, he often took a day
off, going into the country sketching or walking, and on Sundays,
whatever the weather, he nearly always went into the country walking;
his map of the district for thirty miles round London is covered all
over with red lines showing where he had been. He sometimes went out
of town from Saturday to Monday, and for over twenty years spent
Christmas at Boulogne-sur-Mer.

There is a Sacro Monte at Varallo-Sesia with many chapels, each
containing life-sized statues and frescoes illustrating the life of
Christ. Butler had visited this sanctuary repeatedly, and was a
great favourite with the townspeople, who knew that he was studying
the statues and frescoes in the chapels, and who remembered that in
the preface to 'Alps and Sanctuaries' he had declared his intention
of writing about them. In August, 1887, the Varallesi brought
matters to a head by giving him a civic dinner on the Mountain.
Everyone was present, there were several speeches and, when we were
coming down the slippery mountain path after it was all over, he said
to me:

"You know, there's nothing for it now but to write that book about