It had not been my fathers’s plan to go to Jersey when he did, they had intended to emigrate to Australia, taking advantage of an easy emigration, but after they had packed all their goods, and were all ready to go, the emigrations stopped, so we just crossed over to Jersey. Father opened a watchmakers shop in High St. Guernsey after he left Rogers and did very well for a while, but just after I was married during the Boar war, his business failed, as did many other businesses at that time. Father had been spiritually minded, he had been interested in the Baptists, mother who had been Church of England also joined the Baptist church, father was head deacon of that church for many years. We never stayed long in one house, moving for various reasons. Once we left a lovely house situated in the middle of a very steep road, we moved to a house easier to get to because old Grandfather Rowe could not climb the hill and he would try to visit us at least once a week. We moved to a house near the shore in Paris street. Grandmother Rowe died in that house. Later we moved to number 3 Emma Place Victoria Road. St. Peter’s Port in Guernsey, there mother ran a private hotel. One day our lodgers had a dinner party, and as was their custom, the meal was eaten with all the blinds rolled up, and the table with it’s good food and glittering silver and glass could be seen by passers by outside. Our house was full at that time and as my bedroom was let to a servant of one of our lodgers, I slept on a cot in the kitchen. Father went outside to smoke while mother and the hired girl cleared away the dishes before going to bed. Father came in and said, “don’t go to bed yet, there is still a man in the dining room.” Mother said she was sure all the men had left the house, so father went outside to look again and he saw that it was a burglar. Father walked into the room and took the man by the collar and sat him in a chair and called mother. She came quickly and picking up a big walking stick from the hall, stood over the man while father went for the police. When the man moved she waved the stick over him saying, “you move you beggar.” The man did not move as he had been drinking and the warm room had made him tipsy. As he had only stolen food he was given a light sentence, 10 days in jail. Father was fond of reading, his favorite books were detective stories. Father and mother would occasionally travel to London, England, once they went to Paris. We often crossed from one island to another. My brother became a cabinet maker and moved to England. After I married and my parents moved to England, father became an atheist; men would come into his jewelry store in Birmingham and talk to father about atheism and father believed him. Mother became unsure of what to believe, but my brother also became an atheist, but I am grateful to my parents that they brought me up to a religion. Father was generous and kind, patient and loving. I never remember him uttering a cross word. He died of paralysis 30 Oct 1930, he was ill a year and died a short time before their 50th anniversary.