570 APPENDIX Jb 



The Federalist 



Gregorovius Rome. 



Scott Legend of Montrose. 



Guy Mannering. 



Waverley. 



Rob Roy. 



Antiquary. 

 Cooper ........... Pilot. 



Two Admirals. 

 Froissart. 

 Percy's Reliques. 

 Thackeray . . Vanity Fair 



Pendennis. 

 Dickens ,...00..... Mutual Friend. 



Pickwick. 



I received so many inquiries about the Pigskin Library (as the list 

 appeared in the first chapter of my African articles in Scribner's Maga- 

 zine [see page 29] ), and so many comments were made upon it, often 

 in connection with the list of books recently made public by ex-President 

 Eliot, of Harvard, that I may as well myself add a word on the subject. 



In addition to the books originally belonging to the " library," vari- 

 ous others were from time to time added; among them, "Alice in 

 Wonderland" and "Through the Looking-Glass," Dumas's "Louves 

 de Machekoule, " "Tartarin de Tarascon" (not until after I had shot 

 my lions!), Maurice Egan's "Wiles of Sexton Maginnis," James Lane 

 Allen's "Summer in Arcady," William Allen White's "A Certain Rich 

 Man," George Meredith's "Farina," and d'Aurevilly's "Chevalier des 

 Touches." I also had sent out to me Darwin's "Origin of Species" 

 and "Voyage of the Beagle," Huxley's Essays, Frazer's "Passages from 

 the Bible," Braithwaite's "Book of Elizabethan Verse," FitzGerald's 

 "Omar Khayyam," Gobineau's "Inegalite des Races Humaines" (a well- 

 written book, containing some good guesses; but for a student to approach 

 it for serious information would be much as if an albatross should apply 

 to a dodo for an essay on flight), " Don Quixote," Montaigne, Mo- 

 liere, Goethe's "Faust," Green's "Short History of the English People," 

 Pascal, Voltaire's "Siecle de Louis XIV," the "Memoires de M. Simon" 

 (to read on the way home), and "The Soul's Inheritance," by George 

 Cabot Lodge. Where possible I had them bound in pigskin. They 

 were for use, not ornament. I almost always had some volume with 

 me, either in my saddle pocket or in the cartridge-bag which one of 

 my gun-bearers carried to hold odds and ends. Often my reading 

 would be done while resting under a tree at noon, perhaps beside the 

 carcass of a beast I had killed, or else while waiting for camp to be pitched; 

 and in either case it might be impossible to get water for washing. In 

 consequence the books were stained with blood, sweat, gun oil, dust, 

 and ashes; ordinary bindings either vanished or became loathsome, 

 whereas pigskin merely grew to look as a well-used saddle looks. 



