and interesting personality.
That he was, in some respects, eccentric cannot be denied; for
instance he hardly ever wore an overcoat, and always wore a tall hat,
whatever might be the climatic conditions. At dinner in his rooms
small pieces of cardboard took the place of table-mats; they answered
the purpose perfectly well, he said, and to buy anything else would be
a mere waste of money. On the other hand, when purchasing books for
himself, or giving treats to the children he loved, he never seemed to
consider expense at all.
He very seldom sat down to write, preferring to stand while thus
engaged. When making tea for his friends, he used, in order, I
suppose, to expedite the process, to walk up and down the room waving
the teapot about, and telling meanwhile those delightful anecdotes of
which he had an inexhaustible supply.
Great were his preparations before going a journey; each separate
article used to be carefully wrapped up in a piece of paper all to
itself, so that his trunks contained nearly as much paper as of the
more useful things. The bulk of the luggage was sent on a day or two
before by goods train, while he himself followed on the appointed day,
laden only with his well-known little black bag, which he always
insisted on carrying himself.
He had a strong objection to staring colours in dress, his favourite
combination being pink and grey. One little girl who came to stay with
him was absolutely forbidden to wear a red frock, of a somewhat
pronounced hue, while out in his company.
At meals he was very abstemious always, while he took nothing in the
middle of the day except a glass of wine and a biscuit. Under these
circumstances it is not very surprising that the healthy appetites of
his little friends filled him with wonder, and even with alarm. When
he took a certain one of them out with him to a friend's house to
dinner, he used to give the host or hostess a gentle warning, to the
mixed amazement and indignation of the child, "Please be careful,
because she eats a good deal too much."
Another peculiarity, which I have already referred to, was his
objection to being invited to dinners or any other social gatherings;
he made a rule of never accepting invitations. "Because you have
invited me, therefore I cannot come," was the usual form of his
refusal. I suppose the reason of this was his hatred of the
interference with work which engagements of this sort occasion.
He had an extreme horror
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