閱讀足跡 永久書架

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I remain; with best love to all;

Ever your most affectionate and dutiful son;

H。 Rider Haggard (or “Waggart” as they put my name

in the paper)。

My mother will pity me when I tell her that I’ve got to get servants。 Where on earth am I to find servants; and who am I to ask about them?

Now before we go on to Natal where the real business of my life began; I will stop for a moment to take stock of myself as I was in those days at the age of nieen。

I was a tall young fellow; quite six feet; and slight; blue…eyed; brown…haired; fresh…plexioned; and not at all bad…looking。 The Zulus gave me the name of “Indanda;” which meant; I believe; one who is tall and pleasant…natured。 Mentally I was impressionable; quick to observe and learn whatever interested me; and could already hold my own in conversation。 Also; if necessary; I could make a public speech。 I was; however; subject to fits of depression and liable to take views of things too serious and gloomy for my age — failings; I may add; that I have never been able to shake off。 Even then I had the habit of looking beneath the surface of characters and events; and of trying to get at their springs and causes。 I liked to understand any country or society in which I found myself。 I despised those who merely floated on the stream of life and never tried to dive into its depths。 Yet in some ways I think I was rather indolent; that is if the task in hand bored me。 I was ambitious and conscious of certain powers; but wanted to climb the tree of success too quickly — a proceeding that generally results in slips。

Further; my eldest sister; Ella (Mrs。 Maddison Green); informed me only a month or two ago that at this period I was conceited。 Possibly I may have been; for I had been living

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