Most of us walked to the place appointed for the picnic, which was on a stretch of grass beside a high-road; and we were the dirtiest and most disreputable-looking company I have ever been in. But Mrs. Perry, and some of the older ladies, went in the Duchess of Somersault's caravan, which was hung round with baskets and brooms and wicker chairs; and there were a few donkey carts as well, and an organ barrow for the younger children who could not be left behind. Mrs. Claudie brought what was necessary for the picnic in an old perambulator, which she wheeled herself. We were accompanied all the way by a crowd of rich sightseers, and a favourite amusement of the younger and sprightlier members of our party was to get a ride behind the carriages, and for the others to cry "Whip behind!" and to shriek with laughter at them. The food consisted of scraps wrapped up in pieces of newspaper, but tea was made in an old tin pot over a fire of sticks, and everyone had brought what they wanted in the way of mugs and utensils for themselves. I must confess that if one didn't eat, or only ate the eggs and fruit which some of the young bloods had raided from the farmhouses that we passed on the way, the entertainment was amusing enough. It was rather annoying to be surrounded by a crowd of gaping sightseers, but the company seemed to be used to it, and, indeed, to prefer it to seclusion, or they would not have fixed upon so public a spot. Newspaper reporters were a good deal in evidence, and cameras were directed on us from all sides, as we sat on the grass and enjoyed ourselves. There were many quite intelligent people there. The company, ragged and filthy as it was, was superior to that which I had met in Mr. Perry's club, or to the people I had come across in the large houses in which I had gone slumming with Mrs. Perry. I happened to sit on the grass next to a travelling tinker, who told me that he had been Master of a college at Coxford, but had given it up because he wanted to see more of life. "I have often been accused of being a snob," he said, "especially by those who are envious of the fine company I keep. It is true that my birth would not entitle me to a place in this brilliant society, but I consider that my learning ought to gain me an entrance into any society, and it has as a matter of fact gained me an entrance into this. I consider that this is the best society that can be had, not because it is aristocratic and exclusive, but because it opens up larger vistas of life. Purely learned society does not do that, and after spending over thirty years of my life in Coxford, I grew tired of it, and set out to play my part in the great world."