and later at Stubbington House, Fareham. He rode grandly between
Oatlands and Stoke Damerel on his pony, Beppo, which bucked in
vain when he was on it, but had an ingratiating way of depositing
other riders on the road. From what one knows of him later this
is a characteristic story. One day he dismounted to look over a
gate at a view which impressed him (not very boyish this), and when
he recovered from a brown study there was no Beppo to be seen. He
walked the seven miles home, but what was characteristic was that
he called at police-stations on the way to give practical details
of his loss and a description of the pony. Few children would have
thought of this, but Scott was naturally a strange mixture of the
dreamy and the practical, and never more practical than immediately
after he had been dreamy. He forgot place and time altogether when
thus abstracted. I remember the first time he dined with me, when
a number of well-known men had come to meet him, he arrived some
two hours late. He had dressed to come out, then fallen into one
of his reveries, forgotten all about the engagement, dined by himself
and gone early to bed. Just as he was falling asleep he remembered
where he should be, arose hastily and joined us as speedily as
possible. It was equally characteristic of him to say
[Page 6]
of the other guests that it was pleasant to a sailor to meet so
many interesting people. When I said that to them the sailor was
by far the most interesting person in the room he shouted with
mirth. It always amused Scott to find that anyone thought him a
person of importance.

[Illustration: ROBERT F. SCOTT AT THE AGE OF 13 AS A NAVAL CADET.]

I suppose everyone takes for granted that in his childhood, as later