to be considered an agricultural bore。 Also it has involved the quotation of several letters and the reprinting of some extracts from books； which are apt to look wearisome in type。 Yet I did not see how these could be omitted； since the words set down years ago do give exactly the writer’s thoughts and views in a fashion more pletely accurate than can any summary founded on his recollections。 Memory is a treacherous thing； and one to which in such matters it is not well to trust。
Strange and varied were the establishments in which Cochrane and I often found ourselves as guests during the course of these “Rural England” journeyings。 When it was announced that I was going to visit a given county we invariably received many kind offers of hospitality。 Since； as a rule； we knew nothing of our would…be hosts； our method of dealing with these was to take a map and accept at hazard those invitations which would bring us nearest to the centre of the various districts we wished to investigate。 Really it was a wise plan； for it brought us into touch with all sorts and conditions of men。
When； at the given day and hour； we drove up to the residence of our unknown host； often enough it was without knowing whether we should find a palace or a farmhouse。
I could write a whole chapter； if not a small book； about the places where we stayed and their inhabitants。 One night； for instance； we found ourselves in an ancient and gigantic baronial castle。 While I was undressing Cochrane arrived in my apartment； which was huge and gloomy； and asked me if I would mind ing to inspect his sleeping…place。 I did； and by the light of a few struggling candles saw the most depressing room on which ever I had set eyes。
It was enormous； and in the centre of the back wall stood a four…post bed with black hangings and； I think； black hearse…plumes at the corners。 Round the walls were old； full…length family portraits of a singularly grim description — I imagine they must have been memorial pictures — while over the mantelpiece sat an awful old seventeenth…century woman who held a skull in her hands。 This very skull； by the way； was kept in a cupboard upstairs； where I saw the thing； which had something to do with the history of the family； or rather of that which preceded it in the ownership of the castle and estate。 Everything about the chamber was in thorough keeping with that skull； even the coal…box was black and shaped like a sarcophagus！
“This；” said Cochrane — a lover of cheerful surroundings — in a feeble voice； “is no doubt the place where these people have been laid out for generations！”
Remembering the horrible “black bed” in the Verney Memoirs； which used to be carted from house to house whenever a death was expected in the family； I agreed with him； and departed； wishing him pleasant dreams and a good night’s rest。
So huge was that castle — built； I believe； in the time of King John — that in the morning we were utterly unable to find our way to the breakfast…room。 Up and down passages we wandered； till at last we saw a table with writing materials on it； and sat down there to answer letters； until ultimately we were retrieved。
Another strange experience was when we found ourselves in a bachelor house； of which the host； poor fellow — having； we understood； been crossed in love — was in the habit of looking upon the wine when it was red。 In that house there was practically nothing to eat； for the reason that its owner ate practically nothing。 I remember a certain pink and underdone veal and ham pie which； as I was extremely unwell at the time； did not excite appetite； also an egg which I asked for in place of the pie — but I will not dwell upon that egg！ On the other hand； we literally swam in 1845 — yes； 1845 vintage port。 It was going at lunch； it was going at dinner； it was always going — I may add； it always went！
Our host； a most kindly…natured and wealthy man； finding out that I liked old furniture； took me to an attic which was stuffed with Jacobean oak and Georgian Chippendale。 I admired the pieces； whereon he said in a careless voice； “If you like them； take them away。 I don’t care for them。”
I was greatly tempted； but in all the circumstances did not feel justified in accepting this liberal offer。
But I must not continue the record of such reminiscences of our journeyings； since of these truly there is no end。
In the year 1903； which I spent at home； I wrote another work of a rural character； called “A Gardener’s Year。” This first appeared serially in the Queen； and was afterwards brought out in a handsome volume of nearly four hundred pages by Messrs。 Longman。 It went through two editions and gave pleasure to a good many people。
Also I wrote a romance of chivalry called “The Brethren；” of which the scene is laid in the Holy Land in the time of the Crusaders。 Personally it is a favourite with me； but my historical tales have never been quite so popular as are those which deal with African adventure。
Chapter 19 PSYCHICAL
With eldest daughter to Egypt — Return by Italy and Spain — Abu Simbel with Carter — Bee’s nest 2000 years old — “The Way of the Spirit” — Dedicated to Kipling — Death of H。 R。 H。‘s retriever Bob — Appears to him in dream — Report published in Journal of Society for Psychical Research — Lasting effect on H。 R。 H。‘s mind — More dream…pictures — Sir Oliver Lodge。
Early in 1904 I took my daughter Angela on a trip to Egypt； returning by way of Italy and Spain。 We went out on one of the new P。 & O。 boats which was making her maiden voyage； and experienced the most awful weather。 We began by grounding in the Thames and； after a short stop to bury a Lascar overboard — who； poor fellow； had died of the cold — ran into a terrific gale in the Channel。 The wind…gauges registered its pace at about eighty miles the hour； after which their bottoms were blown out or something happened to them。 Then the fore…hatch was stove in and filled with water； as did the passages along which we had to walk from the cabins。 Time after time did we stop to try and make that hatch good with four…inch teak planks； but always these were broken by the force of the sea。
Our subsequent misfortunes were many。 We were taken in closer to Ushant than I thought pleasant； the new engines heated； the chief engineer went mad with the strain and； when at length we did reach Port Said； had to be carried ashore raving。 I believe that he died not long afterwards。 One night this poor fellow； dressed in full uniform； rushed from cabin to cabin； telling the passengers to get up as the ship was sinking！
We took the turn into the Mediterranean about twenty…four hours late； and in the dense darkness caused by a fearful squall nearly went ashore on the coast of Africa； as the Delhi did in after years — I saw her wreck only the other day。 When the light came I had a nearer view of that shore than I ever wish to see again — from the deck of an ocean liner。 In Gibraltar harbour we fouled our anchor in a man…of…war’s mooring chains and had to slip it。 In the Gulf of Lyons we encountered a very bad mistral while we were trying to sling another anchor into its place。 There it hung over the bow； bumping against the side