Perhaps a few words of reminiscence from one of his children may not be unwelcome.
MEMORIES.—G. J. R.
I remember that when my father was particularly amused at anything, he used a certain gesture, which, according to the 'Life of Darwin,'[37] must have been precisely similar to that of Darwin, and was probably unconsciously copied by my father. He never used the gesture except when very much tickled at hearing some amusing story; when the climax of the story was reached he would burst into a peal of hearty laughter, at the same time bringing his hand heavily but noiselessly down upon his knee or on the table near him.
When we were at Geanies, our greatest delight was 'to go out shooting with father.' We used to tramp for hours together over turnip and grass fields behind my father and the gamekeeper. We used to enjoy the expeditions so much better if our father was the only sportsman, for then we had him all to ourselves. We were very small then; our ages were ten, nine, and six respectively, but we were good walkers and we never became tired. What little sunburnt, healthy, grubby children we were to be sure! When Bango, the setter, pointed at a covey, we all had to stand quite still while our father walked forward towards the dog. Directly the covey rose we all 'ducked' for safety. I shall never forget the joy and pride we felt when a bird fell, and we ran with shouts of triumph to pick it up. Then the delight of eating lunch under a hedge or in a wood! That was a time of jokes and fun, and we talked as freely and unrestrainedly as we liked about all kinds of subjects. Then came some more tramping in the turnips, and we would journey homewards, a weary but very happy little party. The counting of the game would follow, and our pride was very great when the number of brace was high, for we felt that we had been helping our father to slay the partridges. In fact, we thought that Sandy, the gamekeeper, was a very useless personage when we went out, for did we not mark as well as, or better, than he did? And surely we could carry the game bags; they were not very heavy even when they were full to bursting!
There was something very beautiful in the respect and reverence which George Romanes felt for children and for child-life, and a sonnet 'To my Children' expresses these feelings:—
'Of all the little ones whom I have known
Ye are so much the fairest in my view—
So much the sweetest and the dearest few—
That not because ye are my very own
Do I behold a wonder that is shown