I confided my intention to one or two of my friends, but the majority, except my bosom chum K----, who is a far-seeing business man, with their innate shrewdness, wanted to know where I was going to get any custom in such a place as Ruhleben Camp. I explained that my idea was to engrave watches, coins, studs links, indeed any article which the prisoners possessed, thus converting them into interesting souvenirs of their sojourn in a German prisoners' camp during the Great War. But with the exception of K---- they declined to see eye to eye with me. Still I was not to be dissuaded, and consequently decided to commence operations upon my own initiative. I was in a quandary. I had not sufficient capital to buy the necessary tools. However, K----, as usual, came to my assistance by financing me to the extent of seven-and-sixpence! This money I laid out upon tools, [*gap] Now I was confronted with another problem. How was I to keep the tools in the necessary sharpened condition. The only stone I could borrow was quite useless for engraving tools, while cutting plays such havoc with the edges of the tools as to demand frequent recourse to sharpening operations. However this obstacle did not daunt me. I found that with a sufficient expenditure of energy I could get a passably sharp edge for my purpose by grinding the tools on the floor and finishing them off upon a razor strop which I borrowed. Now I had to seek for eligible premises. I sauntered round the camp to alight upon a tiny vacant building. As it appeared to have no owner, and was fulfilling no useful purpose I entered into possession. Directly I had installed myself the authorities came along and unceremoniously ejected me, bag and baggage. As soon as their backs were turned I re-entered into occupation. I was thrown out a second time, but still as resolutely determined as ever to continue my project I cast around and ultimately found an empty kiosk, standing forlorn and neglected, a silent memory of the brisk racing days at Ruhleben in pre-war times. I installed myself therein, not caring two straws whether the authorities endeavoured to turn me out or not. They would have to smash the place over my head before they evicted me this time, but they were scarcely likely to proceed to such extreme measures seeing that they would have had to break up their own property.