Sunday 6th January 1935

With Young and Brockwell, through quantities of mud to St. Annes Hill – at dusk. Somehow managed to find the way up the slopes and through the dark woods.
Visited the Well and threw in stones. All of us fairly light hearted. The top. We contentedly smoked our pipes in the failing light. (Contented as only men away from women can be.)

Showed them the Nuns Grave which did not impress them. Young examined the masonry by the light of a match and pronounced it gravel and cement – of a recent date. Brockwell said “Aye” with his inimitable Yorkshire way. Wandered through the quarry and so to the Mill House. Thoroughly enjoyed it and lingered long over the table, effortless and at ease.

Coming back, we spent some time in the Red Lion tap room playing darts. Brockwell is unemotional and ambitious, Young is a sentimental ass (like myself).