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Recollections of John Pounds: A Ramble to Portsdown Hill by Reverend Henry Hawkes

On the Tuesday morning after the Saturday that John Pounds had arranged to take his scholars a ramble to Portsdown, I wished to speak to him, and went to his shop; but to my surprise I found the door shut. The little tumble-down window was open, and his cat was sitting at it, keeping watch. But there was no sound of children’s voices, and the old man was not there. Read more

Recollections of John Pounds: Feeding the Children by Reverend Henry Hawkes

On my way back to my lodgings in High Street, I had to pass the old cobblers shop. As I drew near, I heard many children’s voices, chattering and laughing all together. The upper part of the door was open, as usual; and his little tumble-down window was open too, Looking in; – there was the good old man in his glory! – in the midst of a host of little girls and boys, crowding about him, with merry laughing looks and voices! Read more

Recollections of John Pounds: Looking into John Pounds Shop by Reverend Henry Hawkes

Passing the next day, at noon; all was still in the little shop; except the birds singing. No little crowd of scholars; his little tumble-down window was open, and the upper-half of the street door was open; but his bench was vacant. The old man was asleep in his old arm-chair; his cat sitting on his knee, comfortably tucked up, seemingly asleep too. Read more

Recollections of John Pounds: Continuing my Tour of Portsmouth by Reverend Henry Hawkes

It was no easy thing to get away from the old cobbler. For though we had repeatedly bid him Good Morning, he had always something else to tell us, or show us; his heart was so thoroughly in all he was doing. At last – we were determined! But as we went away from his door, I could not help feeling sorry for him; he seemed so desiring to tell us something else about his doings. Read more

Recollections of John Pounds: My Introduction to Portsmouth By Rev’d Henry Hawkes

The next morning, about ten o’clock, w were on our way to the old cobbler’s. It was a beautiful morning in May; the sun was shining bright, and the air was refreshing. Going out of High Street, by Golden Lion Lane, we entered St. Thomas’s Street, and turned to our right. “As you are new to Portsmouth,” Mr….. said, “it may perhaps be interesting to you if I point out some of the characteristics of this garrison town.” Read more