The Henson Journals

[72]

Monday, August 28th, 1922.

[^written in Greek, Matthew 25:29^]

A dark saying very sad to reflect upon when one is nearing sixty, & cannot but know that one has disclosed all the potencies of one's life, & can henceforth only discover its failures.

We left Blelack a few minutes before 11 a.m., and motored to Balhary, near Meigle in Perthshire, a distance of more than 100 miles. The weather was brilliant: our road lay over the Spital of Glenshire through the finest scenery in Scotland. William negotiated the Devil's Elbow without difficulty: it is an ill–looking piece of road. We lunched at White House, Doumore [sic] with Susan & Gertrude Ramsay: and had tea at Pitlochrie. We arrived at Balhary about 7 p.m. having had a thoroughly successful day.

Here we found old Mr Thomas Dunroch with his wife and family – the widowed daughter, Mrs Higgon, a younger daughter, & his son Lewis. There was staying in the house a young lady, Miss Hill Witston, who sang very charmingly after dinner. Mine host affirmed that when he was an undergraduate at Merton College, he cannot remember ever to have seen a man drunken. Lewis, who was in Oxford after the War, testified that there was very little drunkenness.

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