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Updated: July 27, 2025
We settle down in our new home, and I resolve to keep a diary. Tradesmen trouble us a bit, so does the scraper. The Curate calls and pays me a great compliment. My clear wife Carrie and I have just been a week in our new house, "The Laurels," Brickfield Terrace, Holloway a nice six-roomed residence, not counting basement, with a front breakfast-parlour.
No; Aunt Effie, when she had written him that regular little Sunday afternoon note from Brickfield, telling him that they were all to come down on Tuesday, had thought no such thing. And she was at this moment, with wise forethought, packed in behind all the others, in the most inaccessible corner of the car. "You're not going down to the city?" But he was. Rodney's eyes sparkled as he told her.
If the world was big enough for me to begin again, in a clean place; but there ain't no clean places! And then I asked her to come home with me and my sister." "You mean, of course, a neighborhood name, for the settlement, as it grows?" "Exactly. 'Brickfield Farms' belongs to the outlying husbandry and homesteads. And 'Clay Pits! It is out of the pit and the miry clay that we want to bring them.
"Surely you must be trumpeter to your tribe," I mocked, for my temper was rising. "Why?" he asked. "Are not the Hebrews greater than the Egyptians, as those oppressors soon shall learn, and is not a lord of Israel more than any idol-worshipper among your people?" I looked at the man clad in mean garments and foul from his labour in the brickfield, marvelling at his insolence.
The remains of the great Cloth Hall, cathedral, and other buildings revealed that what had once been, supposedly, of stone was in reality white brick. On August 18, starting at 4 a.m., the Battalion marched to Goldfish Château, close to Ypres, and the Transport to a disused brickfield west of Vlamertinghe.
And when the fire was out the giant rats came back, took the dead horse, dragged it across the churchyard into the brickfield and ate at it until it was dawn, none even then daring to disturb them.... Redwood went round, to Bensington about eleven the next morning with the "second editions" of three evening papers in his hand.
"Gor bless you," exclaimed Barney Bill. "Nothing of the kind. Didn't I tell yer I've knowed him since we was lads together? And Jane lives there." Paul laughed. "In that case " "You'll be most welcome," said Mr. Finn. "This way." He went ahead with Barney Bill, whose queer side limp awoke poignant memories of the Bludston brickfield. Paul followed with Jane.
She lived in Blomfield Road, Shepherd's Bush, a depressing, blind little street, at the end of which was a hoarding; this latter shut off a view of a seemingly boundless brickfield. Miss Nippett rented a top back room at number 19, where, on one Sunday afternoon, Mavis, being previously invited, went to tea.
He had passed through Bludston and he had caught a glimpse of what had once been his brickfield, now the site of more rows of mean little houses, and he had seen the grim factory chimneys still smoking, smoking.... The little Buttons, having grown up into big Buttons, were toiling away their lives in those factories. And Button himself, the unspeakable Button? Was he yet alive? And Mrs.
He was alone in his brickfield on a gusty March morning-the Easter holidays had released him from school-squatting by his hole under the lee of a mass of earth and rubbish. It was a mean expanse, blackened by soot and defiled by refuse.
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