May 23, 1879.

[Sketch.]

Forty-four of these aquatic plant tubs stand in one part of the back premises of Clyst S. George Rectory, full of truly wondrous varieties.  The above is a thing like white tassels and purple-pink buds.  Fancy how I revel in them, and in the garden, which holds 1640 species of herbaceous perennials all labelled and indexed!!  The old Rector (he is 89) is as hard at it as ever.  He is so pleased to be listened to, and it is enormously interesting though somewhat fatiguing, and leaves me no time whatever for anything else!  My brain whirls with tiles, mosaics, tesserae, bell-castings, bell-marks, and mottos, electros, squeezes, rubbings, etc., etc.  His latest plant fad is Willows and Bamboos, of which he has countless kinds growing and flourishing!!!  He is infirm, but it is very grand to see life rich with interests, and with work that will benefit others—­so near the grave!

We’d a funny scene this morning when I went over the church with him, and had to write my name in the book.

Very testily—­“The date, my dear, put the date!”

“I have put it.”

More testily at being in the wrong—­“Then put your address, put your address.”

I hesitated, and he threw up his hands:  “Bless me! you’ve not got one.  It has always puzzled me so what made you take a fancy to a soldier.”

He had been very full of all kinds of ancient Church matters—­a wonderful bell dedicated to the Blessed Virgin in a very remarkable inscription, etc.,—­so I seized the pen and wrote—­Strada Maria Stella, Malta—­and “I du thenk” (as they say here) it will considerably puzzle the old sexton!!!!!

Soon after sunrise on Ascension Day I was woke clear and clean by the bells breaking into song.  You know campanology is his great hobby.  They rang changes, with long pauses between.  Bells often try me very much, at Ecclesfield par exemple, but I really enjoyed these....

May 24, 1879.

...  A very pathetic bit of private news of poor little MacDowell.  He was sent by the General to tell them to strike the tents, and was urging on the ammunition to the front, and encouraging the bandsmen to carry it, when a Zulu shot him.  A good and not painful end—­God bless him!  The Capt.  Jones who told this, said also that one little bugler killed three big Zulus with his side-arms before he fell!  Also that a private of the 24th saved Chard’s life at Rorke’s Drift by pushing his head down, so that a bullet went over it!

Woolwich. Whit Monday, 1879.

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