Quiet night. Brilliant morning. At the office heard that Culley’s van, stolen from the garage near the Fire Station, has been found on the
Ipswich Road. As a matter of fact, Snowball noticed it when
driving back to Ipswich last night. It was standing on the grass verge, with its
lights on, and had apparently been standing there all day.
In the Essex County Standard today are reports of some very odd police court cases. One is that of young Hazell, the pawnbroker, who is once again in trouble for buying stolen goods. Another, rather sad, is that Hollick, the dealer from Leavenheath, has been charged with cruelty to his horse, yet a kinder man never lived. A third, and most disgraceful case, is that Wrights’ of Colchester have been fined for carting fodder to London for their Stratford coal horses in a lorry which was not licensed by the Ministry of War Transport for that purpose. This petty persecution by civil servants is a scandalous business, but now that Parliament’s power has been so reduced there is no defence against it.
This evening went down to Copt Hall with Harry Day in his car, when he was taking back a load of repaired harness. Quite a lot of corn not yet cut. Saw Burrill at Copt Hall, and was most amused when he, the great exponent of mechanisation, asked me if I knew where he could buy a pair of good horses, saying that he had realised that horses were absolutely essential on that land.
We walked down to the lower buildings, and across the marsh. When walking across the great bare redhill near the barn, I picked up an interesting sherd, almost of La Tene II ware, near a rabbit hole. It was stained with the bright red soil and seemed to have been brought up from a good depth. Nothing else to be seen but the usual briquetage, and in spite of all that Culley [the Pests Officer] has done, the hill (as others down there) is a mass of rabbits.
Got back to Boxted at 10, and bed at 10.30, with every hope for a quiet night.