and munch great Ribston pippins picked from the tree only an hour ago.
Entrance Hall.
From a Photo. by Elliott & Fry.
Entrance Hall.
From a Photo. by Elliott & Fry.
In appearance Mr. Haggard looks just his age—thirty-five. He is tall, somewhat slim, and wears a fair moustache. His kindness makes one happy, his modesty is impressive to a degree. He tells you nothing but what is worth remembering; his life has been one long chapter of adventure, and every nook and corner and of the house, wherever you turn, has some reminder of a career which has been in many ways remarkable. I spent part of the evening in going from room to room and noting these. The entrance-hall and staircases are crowded with interesting and suggestive mementoes. On the walls are Arabian shields and swords, lengthy spears, and ugly—though highly decorative—knives, many from various battlefields, ancient Egyptian bows and throwing-sticks, and here is an ancient cedar rod believed to be similar to the one which Moses cast before Pharaoh. On a ledge is a row of fine ostrich eggs, and just by the entrance to an ante-room are two quaint chairs with footstools combined, made of ebony, without nails, and inlaid with ivory. These came from the East Coast of Africa. A lamp is supported on a wooden pedestal. It is made of the Royal red wood of Zululand. Only kings and princes were allowed to possess it; for a commoner to carry it meant death. So precious was it deemed
