Tuesday 26th December 1933

All went hunting – following the Burton hounds, by car. Foggy. I remember: The meet at the Barracks, strolling among the crowd, armed with the De Riske “Turks” – Riseholme Park – the find – off galloped the field, into the fog. On a haystack, with several others, heaven knows where. Cars jolting along a lane. Wild dashes along quiet roads. Eyes watching the fog. Gone! Desolate, foggy flatlands.

Evening: We went to see “Brittania of Billingsgate” – I for the second time. Thought of that other occasion. “While there are dreams to dream…”