he then held no official position, were occupying a great deal of his time and thoughts in view of future Federation.  It was, therefore, marvellous to see him putting his whole mind to such matters as his prize poultry and beasts at the home farm, to the disposing of the same in what he termed “my country,” or to the arranging of his priceless collection of glass—­even to the question of a domicile for the baby lioness lately presented to him.  Again, one moment he might be talking of De Beers business, involving huge sums of money, the next discussing the progress of his thirty fruit-farms in the Drakenstein district, where he had no fewer than 100,000 fruit-trees; another time his horse-breeding establishment at Kimberley was engaging his attention, or, nearer home, the road-making and improvements at Groot Schuurr, where he even knew the wages paid to the 200 Cape boys he was then employing.  Mr. Rhodes was always in favour of doing things on a large scale, made easy, certainly, by his millionaire’s purse.  Sometimes a gardener or bailiff would ask for two or three dozen rose or fruit trees.  “There is no use,” he would exclaim impatiently, “in two dozen of anything.  My good man, you should count in hundreds and thousands, not dozens.  That is the only way to produce any effect or to make any profit.”  Another of his theories was that people who dwelt in or near towns never had sufficient fresh air.  During one of our morning rides I remember his stopping a telegraph-boy, and asking him where he lived.  When the lad had told him, he said:  “I suppose there are no windows in your cottage; you had better go to Rhodesia, where you will find space, and where you won’t get cramped ideas.”  Then he rode on, leaving the boy staring at him with open eyes.  An attractive attribute was his love of his early associations, his father especially being often the theme of his conversation.  He used freely to express his admiration for the type the latter represented, now almost extinct, of the old-fashioned country clergyman-squire.  He held with tenacity to the traditions of his childhood in having always a cold supper on Sunday evenings, instead of the usual elaborate dinner, also in having the cloth removed for dessert, to display the mahogany, of which, alas! few of our tables are now made.  With stupidity, or anything thereto approaching, he was apt to be impatient; neither could he stand young men who affected indifference to, or boredom with, the events and sights of the day.  I often used to think, however, he frightened people, and that they did not show to their best advantage, nor was their intelligence at its brightest when talking with him.  I now refer especially to those in his employ.