I spent a week by the sea, slowly edging towards the east, sleeping on the shore and working the towns… At Gosport I performed at a barrack-room concert in return for a ration of army beef. In front of Chichester Cathedral I played ‘Bless this House’, and was moved on at once by the police… At Littlehampton, I’d just collected about eighteen pence when I was moved on again by the police. ‘Not here. Try Worthing,’ the officer said. I did so, and was amply rewarded. Worthing at that time was a kind of Cheltenham-on-Sea, full of rich, pearl-chokered invalids. Each afternoon they came out in their high-wheeled chairs and were pushed round the park by small hired men. Standing at the gate of the park, in the mainstream of these ladies, I played a selection of spiritual airs, and in little over an hour collected thirty-eight shillings - which was more than a farm-labourer earned in a week. << less