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King Country Chronicle, Volume XXXI, Issue 4945, 21 January 1937, Page 5

An enthusiastic supporter of the open-air cult, a young man residing jn Peterborough Street, Christchurch, preferred to sleep in a tent in the backyard. He scoffed at others in the house who were not content to hear the breeze rustling the canvas in the small hours. Something happened a night or two back to dampen his enthusiasm. He really didn't object to the greyhound which nightly came to the door and inspected him, nor was he very indignant when a hedgehog snuffled round the floor. But when two full-sized battling tomcats sprang on to his bed an hour or two after midnight and proceeded to settle their differences on his protesting body, he decided that there was another and not such a pleasant side to tent life.