st with a marvellous memory。 I have heard him tell story after story without stopping； till at length I began to hope that the stock was running low。 Sir Redvers was always very kind to me； but he was not a man to cross in argument。 Once； at his own table； I heard him differ from the late Lord Justice Bowen in a way that made me glad that I was not Lord Justice Bowen。 What struck me was the extraordinary patience with which the Judge submitted to the scolding。 He must have had a very sweet nature； indeed I always thought that this was so。
It was about this time that I first made the acquaintance of Mr。 Rudyard Kipling； who had recently arrived in England； I suppose from India。 He was then a young fellow about five…and…twenty； and in appearance and manner very much what he is today。 I cannot recall under what circumstance we first met。 Perhaps it was at a dinner…party I gave at my house； 24 Redcliffe Square； to some literary friends。 I remember that Kipling arrived late and explained the reason by pointing to a cut upon his temple。 Whilst he was driving towards my house his hansom collided with a van in Piccadilly； and there was a smash in which he had a narrow escape。 From that time forward we have always liked each other； perhaps because on many； though not on all； matters we find no point of difference。
Another man very well known in his day with whom I was acquainted was the great and acplished doctor； Sir Henry Thompson； by birth an East Anglian like myself。 Once I was present at one of his famous octave dinners。 If I remember right； we were received in a room hung round with beautiful pictures by Etty； as were others in the house。 It had a couch in it on which Sir Henry slept； or rather tried to sleep； at nights。 He suffered terribly from insomnia； and told me that one of his plans to induce slumber was to count thousands of imaginary sheep running through a phantom gate。 Also he would rise and walk about the streets to cause weariness。
A very interesting gentlemen whom I knew was the late Mr。 Meredith Townsend。 He was one of the editors and part owner of the Spectator； out of which journal he told me he drew a fortable 5000 pounds a year。 His conversation was particularly delightful and informing； especially when he spoke of India。
I have before me a letter that he wrote to me before I visited Iceland； in which he says：
It would be worth living to read your account of a Berserk； a white Umslopogaas； with a vein of pity in him for women only。 。 。 。 You are aware that the Berserks when they left their Aryan home on the northern slope of the Hindoo Koosh took with them hemp and the dangerous knowledge of its quality of producing the temporary fury of battle。 The secret still remains in India； and natives who mean killing swallow bhang。
I think that this hint gave me the idea of my Norse character； Skallagrim。 Mr。 Townsend told me that he would live to be eighty； which he did。 I； he said； should die at sixty； as by then my highly strung temperament would have exicans say。
Another person whom I knew very well was Miss Marjorie Barber； who has since bee famous on the strength of her delicately written and arresting booklet； “The Roadmender；” which was published after her death。
My intimacy with Marjorie was brought about by the fact that her sister Agnes — a woman with as fine a literary sense and more all…round ability； although circumstances and a family have allowed her but little time to make use of them — became my sister…inlaw as I have said； and； before that event； for some years lived in our house。 While she was here； or shortly afterwards； Mrs。 Barber； her mother； and Marjorie came to live at Bungay； a mile away； so that I saw plenty of the latter。 She was a tall and pretty girl； very pleasant； very witty — I think one of the most amusing afternoons I ever had in my life I spent with her alone in the British Museum； it was our last meeting； I believe — and with all the eccentricity that so usually acpanies a touch of genius。
At the time of her residence in Bungay she was under the sway of a Low Church mania； and used to appear dressed as a deaconess and with a large Bible pressed against her middle。 Nor was she above laughing at herself when the ludicrous aspect of her get…up was pointed out to her。 Subsequently； with a swing of the mental pendulum she became equally High Church； and modelled crucifixes and saints extremely well。 I think it was between these periods that she was with difficulty restrained from starting off alone to bee a missionary in China。 I remember well that when her sister Mabel； now also dead； was informed of one of these phases she wrote back： “Oh！ for goodness’ sake leave Marjorie alone； for if it wasn’t that； it would be ‘Captain Happy Eliza’ with a tambourine！”
In her later days； after her mother’s death at Bungay； Marjorie met a lady doctor who； I think； treated her for some illness。 To this lady and her husband she became so much attached that not only did she go to live with them； but also formally adopted their family name and； when she died； left them everything she possessed。 I believe that these adopted parents were very kind to her； and nursed her well during her last painful and plicated illness； which I was told was tuberculosis in its origin。
It was only during her last years that Marjorie took to writing； which； seeing how great were her abilities in this direction； is unfortunate。 It is； however； quite possible； judging from what I know of her disposition； that if she had begun earlier she would have wearied of the business and cast it aside。 As it was； she showed great perseverance under distressing circumstances； for； when she became unable to use her right hand； she taught herself to write with the left and in all sorts of strange attitudes made necessary by her plaint。 Personally I prefer “Brother Hilarius” to all her few other literary efforts； not excluding the much…praised “Roadmender；” perhaps because of its charming pictures of the scenery of this neighbourhood。
Marjorie had considerable psychic powers。 Thus her sister Agnes told me only the other day that she had actually known her； when lying helpless in bed； to read a newly opened letter held in a person’s hand at the other end of a long room far beyond her reach of vision； without； of course； any acquaintance with the contents of the letter。 Her sister told me also — she was present at the time — she believed that she really died some days before the breath actually left her。 In this connection she exampled the conduct of a little dog in the house — I think it was a fox…terrier — which was much attached to Marjorie and for long weeks at a time could scarcely be got away from her bedside。 A few days before her actual breathing ceased； however； this dog suddenly left the room； and could not by any means be prevailed upon to return there。 Such at least is the story as it came to me。
I am sorry not to have seen more of Marjorie during her last years； but in truth she vanished away from kith and kin and friends。
Another of my early friends； who； I am glad to say； still survives； is Dr。 Wallis Budge；20 the head of the Egyptian Department of the British Museum； to whom not long ago I dedicated my book “Morning Star；” an attention that pleased him very much。 I really think that Budge is both the most industrious and the most learned man of my acquaintance。 How he can pass all the work he gets through — and such work！ — is to me one of the marvels of the age。 As might be expected； he is a great believer in the Old Egyptians； indeed； as I told him not long ago； he has been so long of their pany in spirit that almost he has bee one of them。 Budge seems to be of opinion that the ancient thinkers among this people discovered all that we can learn of the mysteries which relate to the life of the soul； the resurrection； etc。 In times that passed away before history began — when； as he says； men had leisure for reflection — they found out much that we think now。 Afterwards； he remarked to me； the medicine…man and the paid priest arose and overlaid the truth with all the fantasies and formulas and ridiculous details of symbolical worship which it was to their advantage to imagine and maintain。 If I understand him right； he holds that religion pure and undefiled wells up spontaneously in the heart of man； and that afterwards it is smothered； and even killed； with the dross of ritual and controversy where professional theologians pitch their camps。
There has been much talk of late of a painted board on which a face is carved； which once rested on the mummy of a priestess of Amen who lived about 1500 B。C。 It has been supposed to bring misfortune to those who had anything to do with it； or who even looked upon it。
One day in the autumn of 1889 a gentleman was shown into Dr。 Budge’s room in the British Museum and； producing a photograph of the painted board； asked him to tell what the object represented was。 Budge saw at once that it was an object of which the Museum had few examples； and that it was in a good state of preservation； and also an antica of considerable value。 The visitor said； “Do you want it？” Budge said； “Yes； but we have no money。” Visitor： “I don’t want money。 I’ll give it to you。” Budge： “Very handsome of you。 Please give me your name and address； and I will report your generous gift to the Trustees。” The visitor did so； but lingered； and after a time said； “Could you send for it today？” There was difficulty； it then being three o’clock； in getting a van and men； but they were got and sent for the board。 The visitor asked if he might remain till the board came； and Budge gave him books to look at。 In due course the board arrived and the men brought it upstairs； and the visitor got up and thanked Budge profusely。 Said Budge； “The thanks are due to you from us。” Whereupon the visitor took Budge by the hand and said words to this effect： “Thank God you have taken the damned thing！ There is an evil spirit in it which appears in its eyes。 It was brought home by a friend of mine who was travelling with Douglas Murray； and he lost all his money when a bank in China broke； and his daughter died。 I took the board into my house。 The eyes frightened my daughter into a sickness。 I moved it to another room； and it threw down a china cabi and smashed a lot of Sevres china in it。 The cook saw it and fainted； and the other servants saw flashes of fire e from the eyes； and ran away from the house。 A friend suggested the giving it to the Museum； and； thank God！ you have accepted it。 I want no thanks。 I shall be ever in your debt。” With these words he left the room and Budge saw him no more。 The board was put into the mummy room； and Douglas Murray and W。 T。 Stead came and examined it and said it possessed psychic powers — that a soul in torment was chained up in the board； and so on。 All this got into the papers； and much nonsense besides。 Budge said that the board had given them no trouble； and published it in one of his books。
A certain mummy had many weird stories attached to it。 It was bought by “Midge” Ingram of the Illustrated London News and brought to London。 Budge was sent to report upon it by his chief； Dr。 Birch； and he said it belonged to the Ptolemaic Period and came from Akhmi