Tours of South Leeds by velocipede
To-night I resolved to pay a visit to a Prussian emporium, which lies in the heart of South Leeds, and stocks varied items of interest to a gentle-man, as well as foodstuffs and sundry other items. Normally I would send my man-servent, but alas he lies abed with the influenza, and it would be a cruelty to rouse him. My maid tried to suggest that it was not influenza, but merely a strong chill, but although I hesitate to gainsay a lady, even one of her station, it was clear that he was suffering strenuously, although he bore it with commendable stoicism rarely seen in the lower orders since the passage of the Reform Act.
As many of you know, I took delivery some months ago of one of Mr Kamprad's fine Stowable Velocipedes, and so was able to proceed along Wellington Street directly following debarking from the York-Selby Line's express service at Leeds City Station, just prior to half-past six this evening. Naturally, I took care to unfold my vehicle out of sight of any ladies, for fear they should be overcome. My journey made fortunate progress, until I took an ill-advised turning, and subsequently I took an impromptu tour of the area around St. Matthew's Church, and the worker-villages of Holbeck and Beeston. Had the weather been more clement, and Carruthers been along to port my field-camera, I should have exposed no few plates for an article about the working-classes for Picture Post. Perhaps another time.
My travels were much inconvenienced by the motor-way that strikes through the area in the manner of a fast-moving and dangerous river, although without the redeeming feature of containing salmon. Eventually, I made my way to Elland Road, an otherwise unremarkable industrial street but which sharp-eared gentle-folk may recognise from the servants' fevered discussions on Saturday nights and Sunday mornings, as it is the home and playing-field of Leeds United Association Football Club. I was thus fortunate to avoid the attentions of a breed of vagabond known as the "hooligan", perhaps because no fixture appeared to be in the offing this evening.
Cycling past the stadium, I espied in the distance Prince Albert's Own Meat Pattie and Bread Roll Restaurant, a somewhat disreputable establishment specialising in rapidly-delivered nutriments of dubious provenance, which I must confess to having patronised occasionally during my studies. I knew that the Prussians were near-by, and so I was jubilant to arrive in comfortable time to make my purchases. A young lad, exiting the emporium, was most impressed with the Stowable Velocipede, and assisted my by turning off my electric-light.
I was fortunate that the Prussians had the items I desired, and also some fine hand-gloves to replace the pair I mislaid earlier today, and I was home before a quarter-to-eight, complete with a remarkable hip-flask of solid construction for my good lady, which she assures me is for some play-acting or mummery of some kind, as of course strong liquor is unsuitable for the fairer sex.
A fine night, although I would perhaps suggest a return visit might wait until the summer months, and perhaps a native guide might be procured.
As many of you know, I took delivery some months ago of one of Mr Kamprad's fine Stowable Velocipedes, and so was able to proceed along Wellington Street directly following debarking from the York-Selby Line's express service at Leeds City Station, just prior to half-past six this evening. Naturally, I took care to unfold my vehicle out of sight of any ladies, for fear they should be overcome. My journey made fortunate progress, until I took an ill-advised turning, and subsequently I took an impromptu tour of the area around St. Matthew's Church, and the worker-villages of Holbeck and Beeston. Had the weather been more clement, and Carruthers been along to port my field-camera, I should have exposed no few plates for an article about the working-classes for Picture Post. Perhaps another time.
My travels were much inconvenienced by the motor-way that strikes through the area in the manner of a fast-moving and dangerous river, although without the redeeming feature of containing salmon. Eventually, I made my way to Elland Road, an otherwise unremarkable industrial street but which sharp-eared gentle-folk may recognise from the servants' fevered discussions on Saturday nights and Sunday mornings, as it is the home and playing-field of Leeds United Association Football Club. I was thus fortunate to avoid the attentions of a breed of vagabond known as the "hooligan", perhaps because no fixture appeared to be in the offing this evening.
Cycling past the stadium, I espied in the distance Prince Albert's Own Meat Pattie and Bread Roll Restaurant, a somewhat disreputable establishment specialising in rapidly-delivered nutriments of dubious provenance, which I must confess to having patronised occasionally during my studies. I knew that the Prussians were near-by, and so I was jubilant to arrive in comfortable time to make my purchases. A young lad, exiting the emporium, was most impressed with the Stowable Velocipede, and assisted my by turning off my electric-light.
I was fortunate that the Prussians had the items I desired, and also some fine hand-gloves to replace the pair I mislaid earlier today, and I was home before a quarter-to-eight, complete with a remarkable hip-flask of solid construction for my good lady, which she assures me is for some play-acting or mummery of some kind, as of course strong liquor is unsuitable for the fairer sex.
A fine night, although I would perhaps suggest a return visit might wait until the summer months, and perhaps a native guide might be procured.