"I have stayed at Dr. Wallace's house on three occasions; the first two were when I was only about eight or nine years old, and my recollections of him at that time are therefore necessarily somewhat dim. Certain things, however, have stuck in my memory. I went there quite prepared to see a very venerable and imposing-looking old gentleman, and filled in advance with much awe and respect for him. As regards his personal appearance I was by no mean disappointed, as his tall, slightly-stooping figure, long white hair and beard, and his spectacles fulfilled my highest expectations, I remember being struck with the kindly look of his eyes, and indeed they did not belie his nature, for he always treated me with great kindness, patience and indulgence, which is somewhat remarkable considering my age, and how exasperating I must have been sometimes. I soon began to regard him as a never-failing fount of wisdom, and as one who could answer any question one liked to put to him. Of this latter fact I was not slow to take advantage. I plied him with every kind of question my imaginative young brain could conceive, usually beginning with 'why.' "He nearly always gave me an answer, and what is more, a satisfactory one, and well within the scope of my limited understanding. These definite, satisfactory answers of his used to afford me great pleasure, it being quite a new experience for me to have all my questions answered for me in this way. These answers, as I have said, were nearly always forthcoming, though indeed, on one or two occasions, in answer to an especially ridiculous query of mine he would answer, 'That is a very foolish question, Reggie.' But this was very rare. "I remember taking a great interest in what Dr. Wallace ate. He had a hearty appetite, and was no believer in vegetarianism, for at lunch his diet consisted chiefly of cold beef, liberally seasoned with various sauces and relishes, also vinegar. I used to gaze at these bottles with great admiration. Whenever there were peas he used to take large quantities of sugar with them. This greatly aroused my curiosity, and I questioned him about it. 'Why,' said he, 'peas themselves contain sugar; it is, therefore, much more sensible to take sugar with them than salt.' And he recounted an anecdote of how an eminent personage he had once dined with had been waited on with great respect and attention by all present, but salt was offered to him with the peas. 'If you want to make me quite happy,' said the great man, 'you will give me some sugar with my peas.' His favourite drink, I remember, was Canary sack.