Sport and art
Martin Leggatt, the third brother, did not welcome prospective customers on Tuesday or Thursday afternoons. After lunching in a neighbouring club he would retire with his friends to the cavernous basement beneath our picture gallery in St. James's. There an army of porters had made ready specially constructed nets for practising golf or cricket, according to the season.
Ernest had no time for sport, preferring to devote his energies exclusively to the arts, He would regularly spend his weekends on visits to clients. Once he went to see Sir Walter Gilbey, the noted collector of English sporting paintings. Late at night he was shown to a very cold bedroom but nevertheless slept soundly. He was awakened early the next morning by a valet searching among his clothes. Ernest asked him what he was looking for: "Your trousers, sir."
"Oh, don't bother, I've got them on."
He was utterly uninterested in what he wore but owned a picturesque collection of trousers, startling in colour and of inferior quality. These he had prudently bought in batches from the tailor whose premises adjoined our gallery in Cheapside. The tailor happened to be our landlord.
Apart from his business interests, Ernest's one preoccupation was a fear of going bald. In middle age he was so concerned at his receding hair that he sought the help of a barber reputed to be an authority on hair restoratives. Alas, one of those magic potions caused the remaining wisps of Uncle's hair instantly to frizzle away. The victim was surprised to notice that, when he tipped the rest of the supposed hair tonic on the lawn the grass, too, withered and died within a few hours.
To spare the barber's feelings, Uncle Ernest tried out various methods of colouring his now entirely bald head. Eventually he decided to paint it a subdued chestnut and, as a finishing touch, traced an elegant parting with his little finger. Satisfied with the effect, he made it a lifelong habit. In hot weather, however, the paint had a tendency to run, while in the winter the lining of his hats either deteriorated to the point of disintegration or occasionally stuck, fast to his head.
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