day I sit down to write he
enters upon his eighty-third birthday, still retains that striking
physique which singled him out as a probable "long liver" in the
"fifties." He is tall, and his hair and beard are quite white--his
spirits quick, undampable, and merry. That he is an enthusiast on many
things is evident from the rapid way in which he discusses his pet
subjects. Take Landseer, for instance. The great animal painter never
produced a canvas of which Sir Robert could not tell you its story. On
matters of hygiene--particularly of that relating to armies in the
field--he is an indisputable authority, whilst he has always had the
domiciliary condition of the people near at heart--the proper house
accommodation of the people is a subject he is always ready to discuss.
On all these matters, and many more, the great engineer speaks frankly,
kindly, and well.

The holly-bushes look delightfully green from the study windows. Here is
a fine bust of Her Majesty, by Noble, and a statuette of Miss Florence
Nightingale, with whom Sir Robert frequently came in contact during the
Crimean War. There are several family portraits; and a couple of
strikingly clever sketches of Paganini, by Landseer, draw from their
present possessor the remark that he never heard the famous violinist,
because the prices charged for admission were beyond his means, but he
caught sight of him by waiting at the door of the theatre until he came
out. Marshall, the painter, is represented by an old lady picking a
goose.

[Illustration: PAGANINI.

_By Sir Edwin Landseer._]

[Illustration: PAGANINI.

_By Sir Edwin Landseer._]

"I like that picture," said Sir Robert, "because the face is the nearest
resemblance to my old mother I ever saw. There's a couple of curious sea
pieces," pointing to a pair of pictures done on two pieces of rough deal
board--"Storm" and "Calm." "They were painted by Richard Dadd, the mad
artist. He had an illusion that his father was the devil. He was
pronounced mad, and was confined in Broadmoor Lunatic Asylum. But come
upstairs."

On the upper landing hang several remarkable examples of Dadd's work.
One is a canvas executed before he went out of his mind; two depict his
efforts afterwards. One of the latter is an Eastern market place, the
other "The Crooked Path"--an incident from the "Pilgrim's
Progress"--done on a sheet of brown paper, and dated Broadmoor,
September, 1866. Every face painted bears the sign of insanity