ABSTRACT
It occurred to me yesterday that as Sir William Follett was out of town, Edward & George Clarke were out of town, Edward's Solicitor Cutler was out of town, it could do me no harm to go out of town too, especially if I left Alfred lying in wait to watch the moving of the water in London. So rising up, about as much out of bed, as a sea serpent is represented out of water, I sent for the physician who has been attending me for the last fortnight (six of the last days I have been confined to my bed). I said to him, “Doctor, this is Saturday. Tuesday is the great St. Leger race at Doncaster, 162 miles from here, & I must be there.” He stared at me as if to ascertain whether I was delirious, felt my pulse & changed the subject.
