was wilful and erratic, bordering on insanity. We
therefore got on splendidly.

Of course it was most interesting to me to study such a genius at such a
time, and in recording my experiences and impressions of Lewis Carroll
my object is not so much to deal with the actual illustration to those
ill-conceived books "Sylvie and Bruno," but to deal with my impressions
of the man obtained by working with him for so long, for to have known
the man was even as great a treat as to read his books. Lewis Carroll
was as unlike any other man as his books were unlike any other author's
books. It was a relief to meet the pure simple, innocent dreamer of
children, after the selfish commercial mind of most authors. Carroll was
a wit, a gentleman, a bore and an egotist--and, like Hans Andersen, a
spoilt child. It is recorded of Andersen that he actually shed tears,
even in late life, should the cake at tea be handed to anyone before he
chose the largest slice. Carroll was not selfish, but a liberal-minded,
liberal-handed philanthropist, but his egotism was all but second
childhood.

He informed my wife that she was the most privileged woman in the world,
for she knew the man who knew his (Lewis Carroll's) ideas--that ought to
content her. She must not _see_ a picture or read a line of the MS.; it
was sufficient for her to gaze at me outside of my studio with
admiration and respect, as the only man besides Lewis Carroll himself
with a knowledge of Lewis Carroll's forthcoming work. Furthermore he
sent me an elaborate document to sign committing myself to secrecy. This
I indignantly declined to sign. "My word was as good as my bond," I
said, and, striking an attitude, I hinted that I would "strike,"
inasmuch as I would not work for years isolated from my wife and
friends. I was therefore no doubt looked upon by him as a lunatic. That
was what I wanted. I was allowed to show my wife the drawings, and he
wrote: "For my own part I have shown _none_ of the MS. to anybody; and,
though I have let some special friends see the pictures, I have
uniformly declined to _explain_ them. 'May I ask so-and-so?' they
enquire. 'Certainly!' I reply; "you may _ask_ as many questions as you
like!' That is all they get out of me."

But his egotism carried him still further. He was determined no one
should read his MS. but he and I; so in the dead of night (he sometimes
wrote up to 4 a.m.) he cut his MS. into horizontal strips of four or
five lines, then pla