Story-Portal

Aubrey Fowkes is a nom de plume of Richard Vere Cripps, who also wrote under the name of Esmond Quinterley. I know nothing else about him, other than what might be revealed ih his series Diaries of a Boy, of which this forms a part.

We have a request for the same author's Butterfly Days, but that may be rather difficult to locate. Perhaps this will provide some fleeting consolation.
A synopsis would be redundant for this, since there is no "story"as such, simply a narrative presented in what the author imagines to be the manner of speech of an upper-middle-class schoolboy of some indeterminate period in the early to mid twentieth century. Grammar is often faulty, for example, the use — or non-use — of apostrophes might be considered eccentric, and there is much ragging, stripes, and spiffing older boys.

Quote: I am a London boy. Leicester Terrace was where we lived when I was born. It’s near Kensington Gardens. Such a long street it was, so very long. When we walked up towards our house a church spire was always walking in front of us. When we walked down towards the gardens a black church was always standing there watching. I was christened in that church. Oh, I walked and I walked and I walked on that pavement, walked and walked and walked to the gardens. Lampposts all down the street and house after house after house, and they all had numbers. Of course I was in a pram when I was a baby, but I dont remember that. My nurse pushed me. But I walked when I was old enough, she made me. Narrow it was where we used to go in the gardens, bushes on both sides and great trees inside. But first we had to cross the main road, the one that goes all the way to the Marble Arch. But I dont remember crossing that road. I remember the nursery ponds, we used to feed the young ducks there and sparrows that hopped round. I used to wish I could swim about with the ducks in and out of the reeds—they were ducks ! Sometimes I used to go to the end of this pavement place and peep at the Serpentine. Oh how.......