ABSTRACT
For a start, it was a small miracle to find that the outside porter did actually arrive on time to transport the mountain of luggage to the station, each item with its tie-on label. He was a tough individual who led a slightly shadowy existence in a corner of the station yard — half porter and half carter; he had no uniform but he wore a brass armlet fixed so tight to his sleeve that it seemed almost to be screwed to his arm and he could carry enormous trunks on his back single-handed. Such a journey could begin on the middle platform at Surbiton station, which served the fast ‘through’ lines of the London and South Western Railway, the two outer platforms being for local trains — things of little importance which might stop at every station. At all events, for a family with young children the arrangement was perfect.
