Some rich men, who had
nothing else to amuse them, would make their estates over and over
again, changing the view about their homes as one changes the
scenery in a play. Over in New Jersey the Hegans were building a
castle upon a mountain-top, and had built a special railroad simply
to carry the materials. Here, also, was the estate of the tobacco
king, upon which three million dollars had been spent before the
plans of the mansion had even been drawn; there were artificial
lakes and streams, and fantastic bridges and statuary, and scores of
little model plantations and estates, according to the whim of the
owner. And here in the Pocantico Hills was the estate of the oil
king, about four square miles, with thirty miles of model driveways;
many car-loads of rare plants had been imported for its gardens, and
it took six hundred men to keep it in order. There was a golf
course, a little miniature Alps, upon which the richest man in the
world pursued his lost health, with armed guards and detectives
patrolling the dace all day, and a tower with a search-light,
whereby at night he could flood the grounds with light by pressing a
button.
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