The Spectator, 29 August 1914.
A SHERIFF may be compared to the Cheshire Cat in Alice in Wonderland, which faded away till nothing but its smile remained. The ancient office has gradually faded away till nothing but the ceremonial smile remains, a smile only now useful for the entertainment of Judges at the Assizes or for a public meeting. In war time, however, even Sheriffs may find work to do. As High Sheriff for the county of —, I felt that the most appropriate work for one whose historic duty it is to call upon his county to attend him to repel the King’s enemies was to do everything he could to help in organizing the national defence, and, above all things, to act as a recruiting agent for Lord Kitchener’s Second Army. It may, perhaps, interest the readers of the Spectator if I put on record a week’s work and some of the incidents encountered:—
SUNDAY: Woke myself at five o’clock, called my son, had breakfast in the kitchen, got on our bicycles, having first tied on mine a rook rifle and filled my pockets with its little cartridges, and made our way to an important rail- way bridge which was being guarded day and night by the men of the village.
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