The Old Mud Walls And The Bare Rafters, And The Ancient Thatched Roof, And This Queer-Looking Old Veranda, Will Have An Historical Interest For Me While I Live, And So, While I Can, I Have Taken Pains And Immortalized The Humble Old Building By A Sketch.

I have just said that my admiration for Livingstone has been growing.

This is true. The man that I was about to interview so calmly and complacently, as I would interview any prominent man with the view of specially delineating his nature, or detailing his opinions, has conquered me. I had intended to interview him, report in detail what he said, picture his life and his figure, then bow him my "au revoir," and march back. That he was specially disagreeable and brusque in his manner, which would make me quarrel with him immediately, was firmly fixed in my mind.

But Livingstone - true, noble Christian, generous-hearted, frank man - acted like a hero, invited me to his house, said he was glad to see me, and got well on purpose to prove the truth of his statement, "You have brought new life unto me;" and when I fell sick with the remittent fever, hovering between life and death, he attended me like a father, and we have now been together for more than a month.

Can you wonder, then, that I like this man, whose face is the reflex of his nature, whose heart is essentially all goodness, whose aims are so high, that I break out impetuously sometimes: "But your family, Doctor, they would like to see you, oh!

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