diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old/old/10020.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/old/10020.txt | 5632 |
1 files changed, 5632 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/old/old/10020.txt b/old/old/10020.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a43684a --- /dev/null +++ b/old/old/10020.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5632 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Strand Magazine: Volume VII, Issue 37. +January, 1894., by Edited by George Newnes + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Strand Magazine: Volume VII, Issue 37. January, 1894. + An Illustrated Monthly + +Author: Edited by George Newnes + +Release Date: November 8, 2003 [EBook #10020] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STRAND MAGAZINE *** + + + + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram and PG Distributed Proofreaders + + + + + +THE STRAND MAGAZINE + +_An Illustrated Monthly_ + +EDITED BY GEORGE NEWNES + +Vol. VII., Issue 37. January, 1894. + + * * * * * + + + +_Contents._ + + +Stories from the Diary of a Doctor. + By the Authors of "The Medicine Lady." + VII.--The Horror of Studley Grange. + +The Queen of Holland. + By Mary Spencer-Warren. + +Zig-Zags at the Zoo. + By A. G. Morrison. + XIX.--Zig-Zag Batrachian. + +The Helmet. + From the French of Ferdinand Beissier. + +The Music of Nature. + By T. Camden Pratt. + Part II. + +Portraits of Celebrities at Different Times of Their Lives. + Sir Henry Loch. + Madame Belle Cole. + The Lord Bishop of Peterborough. + Lord Wantage. + Sir Richard Temple, M.P. + +A Terrible New Year's Eve. + By Kathleen Huddleston. + +Personal Reminiscences of Sir Andrew Clark. + By E. H. Pitcairn. + +Beauties: + XIII.--Children. + +The Signatures of Charles Dickens (with Portraits). + By J. Holt Schooling. + +The Mirror. + From the French of George Japy. + +Handcuffs. + By Inspector Moser. + +The Family Name. + From the French of Henri Malin. + +The Queer Side of Things-- + Among the Freaks.--Major Microbe. + Lamps of all Kinds and Times. + The Two Styles. + + * * * * * + + + +_Stories from the Diary of a Doctor._ + +_By the Authors of "THE MEDICINE LADY."_ + + +VII.--THE HORROR OF STUDLEY GRANGE. + +[Illustration: "THE HORROR OF STUDLEY GRANGE."] + + +I was in my consulting-room one morning, and had just said good-bye to +the last of my patients, when my servant came in and told me that a lady +had called who pressed very earnestly for an interview with me. + +"I told her that you were just going out, sir," said the man, "and she +saw the carriage at the door; but she begged to see you, if only for two +minutes. This is her card." + +I read the words, "Lady Studley." + +"Show her in," I said, hastily, and the next moment a tall, +slightly-made, fair-haired girl entered the room. + +She looked very young, scarcely more than twenty, and I could hardly +believe that she was, what her card indicated, a married woman. + +The colour rushed into her cheeks as she held out her hand to me. I +motioned her to a chair, and then asked her what I could do for her. + +"Oh, you can help me," she said, clasping her hands and speaking in a +slightly theatrical manner. "My husband, Sir Henry Studley, is very +unwell, and I want you to come to see him--can you?--will you?" + +"With pleasure," I replied. "Where do you live?" + +"At Studley Grange, in Wiltshire. Don't you know our place?" + +"I daresay I ought to know it," I replied, "although at the present +moment I can't recall the name. You want me to come to see your husband. +I presume you wish me to have a consultation with his medical +attendant?" + +"No, no, not at all. The fact is, Sir Henry has not got a medical +attendant. He dislikes doctors, and won't see one. I want you to come +and stay with us for a week or so. I have heard of you through mutual +friends--the Onslows. I know you can effect remarkable cures, and you +have a great deal of tact. But you can't possibly do anything for my +husband unless you are willing to stay in the house and to notice his +symptoms." + +[Illustration: "LADY STUDLEY SPOKE WITH GREAT EMPHASIS."] + +Lady Studley spoke with great emphasis and earnestness. Her long, +slender hands were clasped tightly together. She had drawn off her +gloves and was bending forward in her chair. Her big, childish, and +somewhat restless blue eyes were fixed imploringly on my face. + +"I love my husband," she said, tears suddenly filling them--"and it is +dreadful, dreadful, to see him suffer as he does. He will die unless +someone comes to his aid. Oh, I know I am asking an immense thing, when +I beg of you to leave all your patients and come to the country. But we +can pay. Money is no object whatever to us. We can, we will, gladly pay +you for your services." + +"I must think the matter over," I said. "You flatter me by wishing for +me, and by believing that I can render you assistance, but I cannot take +a step of this kind in a hurry. I will write to you by to-night's post +if you will give me your address. In the meantime, kindly tell me some +of the symptoms of Sir Henry's malady." + +"I fear it is a malady of the mind," she answered immediately, "but it +is of so vivid and so startling a character, that unless relief is soon +obtained, the body must give way under the strain. You see that I am +very young, Dr. Halifax. Perhaps I look younger than I am--my age is +twenty-two. My husband is twenty years my senior. He would, however, be +considered by most people still a young man. He is a great scholar, and +has always had more or less the habits of a recluse. He is fond of +living in his library, and likes nothing better than to be surrounded by +books of all sorts. Every modern book worth reading is forwarded to him +by its publisher. He is a very interesting man and a brilliant +conversationalist. Perhaps I ought to put all this in the past tense, +for now he scarcely ever speaks--he reads next to nothing--it is +difficult to persuade him to eat--he will not leave the house--he used +to have a rather ruddy complexion--he is now deadly pale and terribly +emaciated. He sighs in the most heartrending manner, and seems to be in +a state of extreme nervous tension. In short, he is very ill, and yet he +seems to have no bodily disease. His eyes have a terribly startled +expression in them--his hand trembles so that he can scarcely raise a +cup of tea to his lips. In short, he looks like a man who has seen +a ghost." + +"When did these symptoms begin to appear?" I asked. + +"It is mid-winter now," said Lady Studley. "The queer symptoms began to +show themselves in my husband in October. They have been growing worse +and worse. In short, I can stand them no longer," she continued, giving +way to a short, hysterical sob. "I felt I must come to someone--I have +heard of you. Do, do come and save us. Do come and find out what is the +matter with my wretched husband." + +"I will write to you to-night," I said, in as kind a voice as I could +muster, for the pretty, anxious wife interested me already. "It may not +be possible for me to stay at Studley Grange for a week, but in any case +I can promise to come and see the patient. One visit will probably be +sufficient--what your husband wants is, no doubt, complete change." + +"Oh, yes, yes," she replied, standing up now. "I have said so scores of +times, but Sir Henry won't stir from Studley--nothing will induce him to +go away. He won't even leave his own special bedroom, although I expect +he has dreadful nights." Two hectic spots burnt in her cheeks as she +spoke. I looked at her attentively. + +"You will forgive me for speaking," I said, "but you do not look at all +well yourself. I should like to prescribe for you as well as +your husband." + +"Thank you," she answered, "I am not very strong. I never have been, but +that is nothing--I mean that my health is not a thing of consequence at +present. Well, I must not take up any more of your time. I shall expect +to get a letter from you to-morrow morning. Please address it to Lady +Studley, Grosvenor Hotel, Victoria." + +She touched my hand with fingers that burnt like a living coal and left +the room. + +I thought her very ill, and was sure that if I could see my way to +spending a week at Studley Grange, I should have two patients instead of +one. It is always difficult for a busy doctor to leave home, but after +carefully thinking matters over, I resolved to comply with Lady +Studley's request. + +[Illustration: "LADY STUDLEY HAD COME HERSELF TO FETCH ME."] + +Accordingly, two days later saw me on my way to Wiltshire, and to +Studley Grange. A brougham with two smart horses was waiting at the +station. To my surprise I saw that Lady Studley had come herself +to fetch me. + +"I don't know how to thank you," she said, giving me a feverish clasp of +her hand. "Your visit fills me with hope--I believe that you will +discover what is really wrong. Home!" she said, giving a quick, +imperious direction to the footman who appeared at the window of +the carriage. + +We bowled forward at a rapid pace, and she continued:-- + +"I came to meet you to-day to tell you that I have used a little guile +with regard to your visit. I have not told Sir Henry that you are coming +here in the capacity of a doctor." + +Here she paused and gave me one of her restless glances. + +"Do you mind?" she asked. + +"What have you said about me to Sir Henry?" I inquired. + +"That you are a great friend of the Onslows, and that I have asked you +here for a week's change," she answered immediately. + +"As a guest, my husband will be polite and delightful to you--as a +doctor, he would treat you with scant civility, and would probably give +you little or none of his confidence." + +I was quite silent for a moment after Lady Studley had told me this. +Then I said:-- + +"Had I known that I was not to come to your house in the capacity of a +medical man, I might have re-considered my earnest desire to help you." + +She turned very pale when I said this, and tears filled her eyes. + +"Never mind," I said now, for I could not but be touched by her +extremely pathetic and suffering face, by the look of great illness +which was manifested in every glance. "Never mind now; I am glad you +have told me exactly the terms on which you wish me to approach your +husband; but I think that I can so put matters to Sir Henry that he will +be glad to consult me in my medical capacity." + +"Oh, but he does not even know that I suspect his illness. It would +never do for him to know. I suspect! I see! I fear! but I say nothing. +Sir Henry would be much more miserable than he is now, if he thought +that I guessed that there is anything wrong with him." + +"It is impossible for me to come to the Grange except as a medical man," +I answered, firmly. "I will tell Sir Henry that you have seen some +changes in him, and have asked me to visit him as a doctor. Please trust +me. Nothing will be said to your husband that can make matters at all +uncomfortable for you." + +Lady Studley did not venture any further remonstrance, and we now +approached the old Grange. It was an irregular pile, built evidently +according to the wants of the different families who had lived in it. +The building was long and rambling, with rows of windows filled up with +panes of latticed glass. In front of the house was a sweeping lawn, +which, even at this time of the year, presented a velvety and well-kept +appearance. We drove rapidly round to the entrance door, and a moment +later I found myself in the presence of my host and patient. Sir Henry +Studley was a tall man with a very slight stoop, and an aquiline and +rather noble face. His eyes were dark, and his forehead inclined to be +bald. There was a courtly, old-world sort of look about him. He greeted +me with extreme friendliness, and we went into the hall, a very large +and lofty apartment, to tea. + +Lady Studley was vivacious and lively in the extreme. While she talked, +the hectic spots came out again on her cheeks. My uneasiness about her +increased as I noticed these symptoms. I felt certain that she was not +only consumptive, but in all probability she was even now the victim of +an advanced stage of phthisis. I felt far more anxious about her than +about her husband, who appeared to me at that moment to be nothing more +than a somewhat nervous and hypochondriacal person. This state of things +seemed easy to account for in a scholar and a man of sedentary habits. + +I remarked about the age of the house, and my host became interested, +and told me one or two stories of the old inhabitants of the Grange. He +said that to-morrow he would have much pleasure in taking me over +the building. + +[Illustration: "'HAVE YOU A GHOST HERE?' I ASKED, WITH A LAUGH."] + +"Have you a ghost here?" I asked, with a laugh. + +I don't know what prompted me to ask the question. The moment I did so, +Sir Henry turned white to his lips, and Lady Studley held up a warning +finger to me to intimate that I was on dangerous ground. I felt that I +was, and hastened to divert the conversation into safer channels. +Inadvertently I had touched on a sore spot. I scarcely regretted having +done so, as the flash in the baronet's troubled eyes, and the extreme +agitation of his face, showed me plainly that Lady Studley was right +when she spoke of his nerves being in a very irritable condition. Of +course, I did not believe in ghosts, and wondered that a man of Sir +Henry's calibre could be at all under the influence of this +old-world fear. + +"I am sorry that we have no one to meet you," he said, after a few +remarks of a commonplace character had divided us from the ghost +question. "But to-morrow several friends are coming, and we hope you +will have a pleasant time. Are you fond of hunting?" + +I answered that I used to be in the old days, before medicine and +patients occupied all my thoughts. + +"If this open weather continues, I can probably give you some of your +favourite pastime," rejoined Sir Henry; "and now perhaps you would like +to be shown to your room." + +My bedroom was in a modern wing of the house, and looked as cheerful and +as unghostlike as it was possible for a room to be. I did not rejoin my +host and hostess until dinner-time. We had a sociable little meal, at +which nothing of any importance occurred, and shortly after the servants +withdrew, Lady Studley left Sir Henry and me to ourselves. She gave me +another warning glance as she left the room. I had already quite made up +my mind, however, to tell Sir Henry the motive of my visit. + +The moment the door closed behind his wife, he started up and asked me +if I would mind coming with him into his library. + +"The fact is." he said, "I am particularly glad you have come down. I +want to have a talk with you about my wife. She is extremely unwell." + +I signified my willingness to listen to anything Sir Henry might say, +and in a few minutes we found ourselves comfortably established in a +splendid old room, completely clothed with books from ceiling to floor. + +"These are my treasures," said the baronet, waving his hand in the +direction of an old bookcase, which contained, I saw at a glance, some +very rare and precious first editions. + +"These are my friends, the companions of my hours of solitude. Now sit +down, Dr. Halifax; make yourself at home. You have come here as a guest, +but I have heard of you before, and am inclined to confide in you. I +must frankly say that I hate your profession as a rule. I don't believe +in the omniscience of medical men, but moments come in the lives of all +men when it is necessary to unburden the mind to another. May I give you +my confidence?" + +"One moment first," I said. "I can't deceive you, Sir Henry. I have come +here, not in the capacity of a guest, but as your wife's medical man. +She has been anxious about you, and she begged of me to come and stay +here for a few days in order to render you any medical assistance within +my power. I only knew, on my way here to-day, that she had not +acquainted you with the nature of my visit." + +While I was speaking, Sir Henry's face became extremely watchful, +eager, and tense. + +"This is remarkable," he said. "So Lucilla is anxious about me? I was +not aware that I ever gave her the least clue to the fact that I am +not--in perfect health. This is very strange--it troubles me." + +He looked agitated. He placed one long, thin hand on the little table +which stood near, and pouring out a glass of wine, drank it off. I +noticed as he did so the nervous trembling of his hand. I glanced at his +face, and saw that it was thin to emaciation. + +"Well," he said, "I am obliged to you for being perfectly frank with me. +My wife scarcely did well to conceal the object of your visit. But now +that you have come, I shall make use of you both for myself and +for her." + +"Then you are not well?" I asked. + +"Well!" he answered, with almost a shout. "Good God, no! I think that I +am going mad. I know--I know that unless relief soon comes I shall die +or become a raving maniac." + +"No, nothing of the kind," I answered, soothingly; "you probably want +change. This is a fine old house, but dull, no doubt, in winter. Why +don't you go away?--to the Riviera, or some other place where there is +plenty of sunshine? Why do you stay here? The air of this place is too +damp to be good for either you or your wife." + +Sir Henry sat silent for a moment, then he said, in a terse voice:-- + +"Perhaps you will advise me what to do after you know the nature of the +malady which afflicts me. First of all, however, I wish to speak of +my wife." + +"I am ready to listen," I replied. + +"You see," he continued, "that she is very delicate?" + +"Yes," I replied; "to be frank with you, I should say that Lady Studley +was consumptive." + +He started when I said this, and pressed his lips firmly together. After +a moment he spoke. + +"You are right," he replied. "I had her examined by a medical man--Sir +Joseph Dunbar--when I was last in London; he said her lungs were +considerably affected, and that, in short, she was far from well." + +"Did he not order you to winter abroad?" + +"He did, but Lady Studley opposed the idea so strenuously that I was +obliged to yield to her entreaties. Consumption does not seem to take +quite the ordinary form with her. She is restless, she longs for cool +air, she goes out on quite cold days, in a closed carriage, it is true. +Still, except at night, she does not regard herself in any sense as an +invalid. She has immense spirit--I think she will keep up until +she dies." + +"You speak of her being an invalid at night," I replied. "What are her +symptoms?" + +Sir Henry shuddered quite visibly. + +"Oh, those awful nights!" he answered. "How happy would many poor mortals +be, but for the terrible time of darkness. Lady Studley has had dreadful +nights for some time: perspirations, cough, restlessness, bad dreams, +and all the rest of it. But I must hasten to tell you my story quite +briefly. In the beginning of October we saw Sir Joseph Dunbar. I should +then, by his advice, have taken Lady Studley to the Riviera, but she +opposed the idea with such passion and distress, that I abandoned it." + +Sir Henry paused here, and I looked at him attentively. I remembered at +that moment what Lady Studley had said about her husband refusing to +leave the Grange under any circumstances. What a strange game of +cross-purposes these two were playing. How was it possible for me to get +at the truth? + +"At my wife's earnest request," continued Sir Henry, "we returned to the +Grange. She declared her firm intention of remaining here until +she died. + +"Soon after our return she suggested that we should occupy separate +rooms at night, reminding me, when she made the request, of the +infectious nature of consumption. I complied with her wish on condition +that I slept in the room next hers, and that on the smallest emergency I +should be summoned to her aid. This arrangement was made, and her room +opens into mine. I have sometimes heard her moving about at night--I +have often heard her cough, and I have often heard her sigh. But she has +never once sent for me, or given me to understand that she required my +aid. She does not think herself very ill, and nothing worries her more +than to have her malady spoken about. That is the part of the story +which relates to my wife." + +"She is very ill," I said. "But I will speak of that presently. Now will +you favour me with an account of your own symptoms, Sir Henry?" + +[Illustration: "HE LOCKED THE DOOR AND PUT THE KEY IN HIS POCKET."] + +He started again when I said this, and going across the room, locked the +door and put the key in his pocket. + +"Perhaps you will laugh at me," he said, "but it is no laughing matter, +I assure you. The most terrible, the most awful affliction has come to +me. In short, I am visited nightly by an appalling apparition. You +don't believe in ghosts, I judge that by your face. Few scientific +men do." + +"Frankly, I do not," I replied. "So-called ghosts can generally be +accounted for. At the most they are only the figments of an over-excited +or diseased brain." + +"Be that as it may," said Sir Henry, "the diseased brain can give such +torture to its victim that death is preferable. All my life I have been +what I consider a healthy minded man. I have plenty of money, and have +never been troubled with the cares which torture men of commerce, or of +small means. When I married, three years ago, I considered myself the +most lucky and the happiest of mortals." + +"Forgive a personal question," I interrupted. "Has your marriage +disappointed you?" + +"No, no; far from it," he replied with fervour. "I love my dear wife +better and more deeply even than the day when I took her as a bride to +my arms. It is true that I am weighed down with sorrow about her, but +that is entirely owing to the state of her health." + +"It is strange," I said, "that she should be weighed down with sorrow +about you for the same cause. Have you told her of the thing which +terrifies you?" + +"Never, never. I have never spoken of it to mortal. It is remarkable +that my wife should have told you that I looked like a man who has seen +a ghost. Alas! alas! But let me tell you the cause of my shattered +nerves, my agony, and failing health." + +"Pray do, I shall listen attentively," I replied. + +"Oh, doctor, that I could make you feel the horror of it!" said Sir +Henry, bending forward and looking into my eyes. "Three months ago I no +more believed in visitations, in apparitions, in so-called ghosts, than +you do. Were you tried as I am, your scepticism would receive a severe +shock. Now let me tell you what occurs. Night after night Lady Studley +and I retire to rest at the same hour. We say good-night, and lay our +heads on our separate pillows. The door of communication between us is +shut. She has a night-light in her room--I prefer darkness. I close my +eyes and prepare for slumber. As a rule I fall asleep. My sleep is of +short duration. I awake with beads of perspiration standing on my +forehead, with my heart thumping heavily and with every nerve wide +awake, and waiting for the horror which will come. Sometimes I wait half +an hour--sometimes longer. Then I know by a faint, ticking sound in the +darkness that the Thing, for I can clothe it with no name, is about to +visit me. In a certain spot of the room, always in the same spot, a +bright light suddenly flashes; out of its midst there gleams a +preternaturally large eye, which looks fixedly at me with a diabolical +expression. As time goes, it does not remain long; but as agony counts, +it seems to take years of my life away with it. It fades as suddenly +into grey mist and nothingness as it comes, and, wet with perspiration, +and struggling to keep back screams of mad terror, I bury my head in the +bed-clothes." + +"But have you never tried to investigate this thing?" I said. + +"I did at first. The first night I saw it, I rushed out of bed and made +for the spot. It disappeared at once. I struck a light--there was +nothing whatever in the room." + +"Why do you sleep in that room?" + +"I must not go away from Lady Studley. My terror is that she should know +anything of this--my greater terror is that the apparition, failing me, +may visit her. I daresay you think I'm a fool, Halifax; but the fact is, +this thing is killing me, brave man as I consider myself." + +"Do you see it every night?" I asked. + +[Illustration: "IT IS THE MOST GHASTLY, THE MOST HORRIBLE FORM OF +TORTURE.] + +"Not quite every night, but sometimes on the same night it comes twice. +Sometimes it will not come at all for two nights, or even three. It is +the most ghastly, the most horrible form of torture that could hurry a +sane man into his grave or into a madhouse." + +"I have not the least shadow of doubt," I said, after a pause, "that the +thing can be accounted for." + +Sir Henry shook his head. "No, no," he replied, "it is either as you +suggest, a figment of my own diseased brain, and therefore just as +horrible as a real apparition; or it is a supernatural visitation. +Whether it exists or not, it is reality to me and in no way a dream. The +full horror of it is present with me in my waking moments." + +"Do you think anyone is playing an awful practical joke?" I suggested. + +"Certainly not. What object can anyone have in scaring me to death? +Besides, there is no one in the room, that I can swear. My outer door is +locked, Lady Studley's outer door is locked. It is impossible that there +can be any trickery in the matter." + +I said nothing for a moment. I no more believed in ghosts than I ever +did, but I felt certain that there was grave mischief at work. Sir Henry +must be the victim of a hallucination. This might only be caused by +functional disturbance of the brain, but it was quite serious enough to +call for immediate attention. The first thing to do was to find out +whether the apparition could be accounted for in any material way, or if +it were due to the state of Sir Henry's nerves. I began to ask him +certain questions, going fully into the case in all its bearings. I then +examined his eyes with the ophthalmoscope. The result of all this was to +assure me beyond doubt that Sir Henry Studley was in a highly nervous +condition, although I could detect no trace of brain disease. + +"Do you mind taking me to your room?" I said. + +"Not to-night," he answered. "It is late, and Lady Studley might express +surprise. The object of my life is to conceal this horror from her. When +she is out to-morrow you shall come to the room and judge for yourself." + +"Well," I said, "I shall have an interview with your wife to-morrow, and +urge her most strongly to consent to leave the Grange and go away +with you." + +Shortly afterwards we retired to rest, or what went by the name of rest +in that sad house, with its troubled inmates. I must confess that, +comfortable as my room was, I slept very little. Sir Henry's story +stayed with me all through the hours of darkness. I am neither nervous +nor imaginative, but I could not help seeing that terrible eye, even in +my dreams. + +I met my host and hostess at an early breakfast. Sir Henry proposed that +as the day was warm and fine, I should ride to a neighbouring meet. I +was not in the humour for this, however, and said frankly that I should +prefer remaining at the Grange. One glance into the faces of my host and +hostess told me only too plainly that I had two very serious patients on +my hands. Lady Studley looked terribly weak and excited--the hectic +spots on her cheeks, the gleaming glitter of her eyes, the parched lips, +the long, white, emaciated hands, all showed only too plainly the +strides the malady under which she was suffering was making. + +"After all, I cannot urge that poor girl to go abroad," I said to +myself. "She is hastening rapidly to her grave, and no power on earth +can save her. She looks as if there were extensive disease of the lungs. +How restless her eyes are, too! I would much rather testify to Sir +Henry's sanity than to hers." + +Sir Henry Studley also bore traces of a sleepless night--his face was +bloodless; he averted his eyes from mine; he ate next to nothing. + +Immediately after breakfast, I followed Lady Studley into her +morning-room. I had already made up my mind how to act. Her husband +should have my full confidence--she only my partial view of the +situation. + +"Well," I said, "I have seen your husband and talked to him. I hope he +will soon be better. I don't think you need be seriously alarmed about +him. Now for yourself, Lady Studley. I am anxious to examine your lungs. +Will you allow me to do so?" + +"I suppose Henry has told you I am consumptive?" + +"He says you are not well," I answered. "I don't need his word to assure +me of that fact--I can see it with my own eyes. Please let me examine +your chest with my stethoscope." + +She hesitated for a moment, looking something like a wild creature +brought to bay. Then she sank into a chair, and with trembling fingers +unfastened her dress. Poor soul, she was almost a walking skeleton--her +beautiful face was all that was beautiful about her. A brief examination +told me that she was in the last stage of phthisis--in short, that her +days were numbered. + +"What do you think of me?" she asked, when the brief examination was +over. + +"You are ill," I replied. + +"How soon shall I die?" + +"God only knows that, my dear lady," I answered. + +"Oh, you needn't hide your thoughts," she said. "I know that my days are +very few. Oh, if only, if only my husband could come with me! I am so +afraid to go alone, and I am fond of him, very fond of him." + +I soothed her as well as I could. + +"You ought to have someone to sleep in your room at night," I said. "You +ought not to be left by yourself." + +"Henry is near me--in the next room," she replied. "I would not have a +nurse for the world--I hate and detest nurses." + +Soon afterwards she left me. She was very erratic, and before she left +the room she had quite got over her depression. The sun shone out, and +with the gleam of brightness her volatile spirits rose. + +"I am going for a drive," she said. "Will you come with me?" + +"Not this morning," I replied. "If you ask me to-morrow, I shall be +pleased to accompany you." + +"Well, go to Henry," she answered. "Talk to him--find out what ails him, +order tonics for him. Cheer him in every way in your power. You say he +is not ill--not seriously ill--I know better. My impression is that if +my days are numbered, so are his." + +She went away, and I sought her husband. As soon as the wheels of her +brougham were heard bowling away over the gravel sweep, we went up +together to his room. + +"That eye came twice last night," he said in an awestruck whisper to me. +"I am a doomed man--a doomed man. I cannot bear this any longer." + +We were standing in the room as he said the words. Even in broad +daylight, I could see that he glanced round him with apprehension. He +was shaking quite visibly. The room was decidedly old-fashioned, but the +greater part of the furniture was modern. The bed was an Albert one with +a spring mattress, and light, cheerful dimity hangings. The windows were +French--they were wide open, and let in the soft, pleasant air, for the +day was truly a spring one in winter. The paper on the walls was light. + +"This is a quaint old wardrobe," I said. "It looks out of place with the +rest of the furniture. Why don't you have it removed?" + +[Illustration: "DON'T GO NEAR IT--I DREAD IT!"] + +"Hush," he said, with a gasp. "Don't go near it--I dread it, I have +locked it. It is always in that direction that the apparition appears. +The apparition seems to grow out of the glass of the wardrobe. It always +appears in that one spot." + +"I see," I answered. "The wardrobe is built into the wall. That is the +reason it cannot be removed. Have you got the key about you?" + +He fumbled in his pocket, and presently produced a bunch of keys. + +"I wish you wouldn't open the wardrobe," he said. "I frankly admit that +I dislike having it touched." + +"All right," I replied. "I will not examine it while you are in the +room. You will perhaps allow me to keep the key?" + +"Certainly! You can take it from the bunch, if you wish. This is it. I +shall be only too glad to have it well out of my own keeping." + +"We will go downstairs," I said. + +We returned to Sir Henry's library. It was my turn now to lock the door. + +"Why do you do that?" he asked. + +"Because I wish to be quite certain that no one overhears our +conversation." + +"What have you got to say?" + +"I have a plan to propose to you." + +"What is it?" + +"I want you to change bedrooms with me to-night." + +"What can you mean?--what will Lady Studley say?" + +"Lady Studley must know nothing whatever about the arrangement. I think +it very likely that the apparition which troubles you will be discovered +to have a material foundation. In short, I am determined to get to the +bottom of this horror. You have seen it often, and your nerves are much +shattered. I have never seen it, and my nerves are, I think, in +tolerable order. If I sleep in your room to-night--" + +"It may not visit you." + +"It may not, but on the other hand it may. I have a curiosity to lie on +that bed and to face that wardrobe in the wall. You must yield to my +wishes, Sir Henry." + +"But how can the knowledge of this arrangement be kept from my wife?" + +"Easily enough. You will both go to your rooms as usual. You will bid +her good-night as usual, and after the doors of communication are closed +I will enter the room and you will go to mine, or to any other that you +like to occupy. You say your wife never comes into your room during the +hours of the night?" + +"She has never yet done so." + +"She will not to-night. Should she by any chance call for assistance, I +will immediately summon you." + +It was very evident that Sir Henry did not like this arrangement. He +yielded, however, to my very strong persuasions, which almost took the +form of commands, for I saw that I could do nothing unless I got +complete mastery over the man. + +Lady Studley returned from her drive just as our arrangements were fully +made. I had not a moment during all the day to examine the interior of +the wardrobe. The sick woman's restlessness grew greater as the hours +advanced. She did not care to leave her husband's side. She sat with him +as he examined his books. She followed him from room to room. In the +afternoon, to the relief of everyone, some fresh guests arrived. In +consequence we had a cheerful evening. Lady Studley came down to dinner +in white from top to toe. Her dress was ethereal in texture and largely +composed of lace. I cannot describe woman's dress, but with her shadowy +figure and worn, but still lovely face, she looked spiritual. The gleam +in her large blue eyes was pathetic. Her love for her husband was +touching to behold. How soon, how very soon, they must part from each +other! Only I as a doctor knew how impossible it was to keep the lamp of +life much longer burning in the poor girl's frame. + +We retired as usual to rest. Sir Henry bade me a cheerful good-night. +Lady Studley nodded to me as she left the room. + +[Illustration: "'SLEEP WELL,' SHE SAID, IN A GAY VOICE."] + +"Sleep well," she said, in a gay voice. + +It was late the next morning when we all met round the breakfast table. +Sir Henry looked better, but Lady Studley many degrees worse, than the +night before. I wondered at her courage in retaining her post at the +head of her table. The visitors, who came in at intervals and took their +seats at the table, looked at her with wonder and compassion. + +"Surely my hostess is very ill?" said a guest who sat next my side. + +"Yes, but take no notice of it," I answered. + +Soon after breakfast I sought Sir Henry. + +"Well--well?" he said, as he grasped my hand. "Halifax, you have seen +it. I know you have by the expression of your face." + +"Yes," I replied, "I have." + +"How quietly you speak. Has not the horror of the thing seized you?" + +"No," I said, with a brief laugh. "I told you yesterday that my nerves +were in tolerable order. I think my surmise was correct, and that the +apparition has tangible form and can be traced to its foundation." + +An unbelieving look swept over Sir Henry's face. + +"Ah," he said, "doctors are very hard to convince. Everything must be +brought down to a cold material level to satisfy them; but several +nights in that room would shatter even your nerves, my friend." + +"You are quite right," I answered. "I should be very sorry to spend +several nights in that room. Now I will tell you briefly what occurred." + +We were standing in the library. Sir Henry went to the door, locked it, +and put the key in his pocket. + +"Can I come in?" said a voice outside. + +The voice was Lady Studley's. + +"In a minute, my darling," answered her husband. "I am engaged with +Halifax just at present." + +"Medically, I suppose?" she answered. + +"Yes, medically," he responded. + +She went away at once, and Sir Henry returned to my side. + +"Now speak," he said. "Be quick. She is sure to return, and I don't like +her to fancy that we are talking secrets." + +"This is my story," I said. "I went into your room, put out all the +lights, and sat on the edge of the bed." + +"You did not get into bed, then?" + +"No, I preferred to be up and to be ready for immediate action should +the apparition, the horror, or whatever you call it, appear." + +"Good God, it is a horror, Halifax!" + +"It is, Sir Henry. A more diabolical contrivance for frightening a man +into his grave could scarcely have been contrived. I can comfort you on +one point, however. The terrible thing you saw is not a figment of your +brain. There is no likelihood of a lunatic asylum in your case. Someone +is playing you a trick." + +"I cannot agree with you--but proceed," said the baronet, impatiently. + +"I sat for about an hour on the edge of the bed," I continued. "When I +entered the room it was twelve o'clock--one had sounded before there was +the least stir or appearance of anything, then the ticking noise you +have described was distinctly audible. This was followed by a sudden +bright light, which seemed to proceed out of the recesses of the +wardrobe." + +"What did you feel when you saw that light?" + +"Too excited to be nervous," I answered, briefly. "Out of the circle of +light the horrible eye looked at me." + +"What did you do then? Did you faint?" + +"No, I went noiselessly across the carpet up to the door of the wardrobe +and looked in." + +"Heavens! you are daring. I wonder you are alive to tell this tale." + +"I saw a shadowy form," I replied--"dark and tall--the one brilliant eye +kept on looking past me, straight into the room. I made a very slight +noise; it immediately disappeared. I waited for some time--nothing more +happened. I got into your bed, Sir Henry, and slept. I can't say that I +had a comfortable night, but I slept, and was not disturbed by anything +extraordinary for the remaining hours of the night." + +"Now what do you mean to do? You say you can trace this thing to its +foundation. It seems to me that all you have seen only supports my firm +belief that a horrible apparition visits that room." + +"A material one," I responded. "The shadowy form had substance, of that +I am convinced. Sir Henry, I intend to sleep in that room again +to-night." + +"Lady Studley will find out." + +"She will not. I sleep in the haunted room again to-night, and during +the day you must so contrive matters that I have plenty of time to +examine the wardrobe. I did not do so yesterday because I had not an +opportunity. You must contrive to get Lady Studley out of the way, +either this morning or afternoon, and so manage matters for me that I +can be some little time alone in your room." + +"Henry, Henry, how awestruck you look!" said a gay voice at the window. +Lady Studley had come out, had come round to the library window, and, +holding up her long, dark-blue velvet dress, was looking at us with a +peculiar smile. + +"Well, my love," replied the baronet. He went to the window and flung it +open. "Lucilla," he exclaimed, "you are mad to stand on the damp grass." + +"Oh, no, not mad," she answered. "I have come to that stage when nothing +matters. Is not that so, Dr. Halifax?" + +"You are very imprudent," I replied. + +She shook her finger at me playfully, and turned to her husband. + +"Henry," she said, "have you taken my keys? I cannot find them +anywhere." + +"I will go up and look for them," said Sir Henry. He left the room, and +Lady Studley entered the library through one of the French windows. + +"What do you think of my husband this morning?" she asked. + +"He is a little better," I replied. "I am confident that he will soon be +quite well again." + +She gave a deep sigh when I said this, her lips trembled, and she turned +away. I thought my news would make her happy, and her depression +surprised me. + +At this moment Sir Henry came into the room. + +"Here are your keys," he said to his wife. He gave her the same bunch he +had given me the night before. I hoped she would not notice that the key +of the wardrobe was missing. + +"And now I want you to come for a drive with me," said Sir Henry. + +He did not often accompany her, and the pleasure of this unlooked-for +indulgence evidently tempted her. + +"Very well," she answered. "Is Dr. Halifax coming?" + +"No, he wants to have a ride." + +"If he rides, can he not follow the carriage?" + +"Will you do that, Halifax?" asked my host. + +"No, thank you," I answered; "I must write some letters before I go +anywhere. I will ride to the nearest town and post them presently, if I +may." I left the room as I spoke. + +Shortly afterwards I saw from a window Sir Henry and his wife drive +away. They drove in a large open landau, and two girls who were staying +in the house accompanied them. My hour had come, and I went up at once +to Sir Henry's bedroom. Lady Studley's room opened directly into that of +her husband, but both rooms had separate entrances. + +I locked the two outer doors now, and then began my investigations. I +had the key of the wardrobe in my pocket. + +[Illustration: "GOOD HEAVENS! WHAT HAD HAPPENED?"] + +It was troublesome to unlock, because the key was a little rusty, and it +was more than evident that the heavy doors had not been opened for some +time. Both these doors were made of glass. When shut, they resembled in +shape and appearance an ordinary old-fashioned window. The glass was set +in deep mullions. It was thick, was of a peculiar shade of light blue, +and was evidently of great antiquity. I opened the doors and went +inside. The wardrobe was so roomy that I could stand upright with +perfect comfort. It was empty, and was lined through and through with +solid oak. I struck a light and began to examine the interior with care. +After a great deal of patient investigation I came across a notch in the +wood. I pressed my finger on this, and immediately a little panel slid +back, which revealed underneath a small button. I turned the button and +a door at the back of the wardrobe flew open. A flood of sunlight poured +in, and stepping out, I found myself in another room. I looked around me +in astonishment. This was a lady's chamber. Good heavens! what had +happened? I was in Lady Studley's room. Shutting the mysterious door of +the wardrobe very carefully, I found that all trace of its existence +immediately vanished. + +There was no furniture against this part of the wall. It looked +absolutely bare and smooth. No picture ornamented it. The light paper +which covered it gave the appearance of a perfectly unbroken pattern. Of +course, there must be a concealed spring somewhere, and I lost no time +in feeling for it. I pressed my hand and the tips of my fingers in every +direction along the wall. Try as I would, however, I could not find the +spring, and I had at last to leave Lady Studley's room and go back to +the one occupied by her husband, by the ordinary door. + +Once more I re-entered the wardrobe and deliberately broke off the +button which opened the secret door from within. Anyone who now entered +the wardrobe by this door, and shut it behind him, would find it +impossible to retreat. The apparition, if it had material foundation, +would thus find itself trapped in its own net. + +What could this thing portend? + +I had already convinced myself that if Sir Henry were the subject of a +hallucination, I also shared it. As this was impossible, I felt certain +that the apparition had a material foundation. Who was the person who +glided night after night into Lady Studley's room, who knew the trick of +the secret spring in the wall, who entered the old wardrobe, and +performed this ghastly, this appalling trick on Sir Henry Studley? I +resolved that I would say nothing to Sir Henry of my fresh discovery +until after I had spent another night in the haunted room. + +Accordingly, I slipped the key of the wardrobe once more into my pocket +and went downstairs. + +I had my way again that night. Once more I found myself the sole +occupant of the haunted room. I put out the light, sat on the edge of +the bed, and waited the issue of events. At first there was silence and +complete darkness, but soon after one o'clock I heard the very slight +but unmistakable tick-tick, which told me that the apparition was about +to appear. The ticking noise resembled the quaint sound made by the +death spider. There was no other noise of any sort, but a quickening of +my pulses, a sensation which I could not call fear, but which was +exciting to the point of pain, braced me up for an unusual and horrible +sight. The light appeared in the dim recess of the wardrobe. It grew +clear and steady, and quickly resolved itself into one intensely bright +circle. Out of this circle the eye looked at me. The eye was unnaturally +large--it was clear, almost transparent, its expression was full of +menace and warning. Into the circle of light presently a shadowy and +ethereal hand intruded itself. The fingers beckoned me to approach, +while the eye looked fixedly at me. I sat motionless on the side of the +bed. I am stoical by nature and my nerves are well seasoned, but I am +not ashamed to say that I should be very sorry to be often subjected to +that menace and that invitation. The look in that eye, the beckoning +power in those long, shadowy fingers would soon work havoc even in the +stoutest nerves. My heart beat uncomfortably fast, and I had to say over +and over to myself, "This is nothing more than a ghastly trick." I had +also to remind myself that I in my turn had prepared a trap for the +apparition. The time while the eye looked and the hand beckoned might in +reality have been counted by seconds; to me it seemed like eternity. I +felt the cold dew on my forehead before the rapidly waning light assured +me that the apparition was about to vanish. Making an effort I now left +the bed and approached the wardrobe. I listened intently. For a moment +there was perfect silence. Then a fumbling noise was distinctly audible. +It was followed by a muffled cry, a crash, and a heavy fall. I struck a +light instantly, and taking the key of the wardrobe from my pocket, +opened it. Never shall I forget the sight that met my gaze. + +There, huddled up on the floor, lay the prostrate and unconscious form +of Lady Studley. A black cloak in which she had wrapped herself partly +covered her face, but I knew her by her long, fair hair. I pulled back +the cloak, and saw that the unhappy girl had broken a blood-vessel, and +even as I lifted her up I knew that she was in a dying condition. + +I carried her at once into her own room and laid her on the bed. I then +returned and shut the wardrobe door, and slipped the key into my pocket. +My next deed was to summon Sir Henry. + +"What is it?" he asked, springing upright in bed. + +"Come at once," I said, "your wife is very ill." + +"Dying?" he asked, in an agonized whisper. + +I nodded my head. I could not speak. + +My one effort now was to keep the knowledge of the ghastly discovery I +had made from the unhappy husband. + +He followed me to his wife's room. He forgot even to question me about +the apparition, so horrified was he at the sight which met his view. + +I administered restoratives to the dying woman, and did what I could to +check the haemorrhage. After a time Lady Studley opened her dim eyes. + +"Oh, Henry!" she said, stretching out a feeble hand to him, "come with +me, come with me. I am afraid to go alone." + +"My poor Lucilla," he said. He smoothed her cold forehead, and tried to +comfort her by every means in his power. + +After a time he left the room. When he did so she beckoned me to +approach. "I have failed," she said, in the most thrilling voice of +horror I have ever listened to. "I must go alone. He will not come +with me." + +"What do you mean?" I asked. + +She could scarcely speak, but at intervals the following words dropped +slowly from her lips:-- + +"I was the apparition. I did not want my husband to live after me. +Perhaps I was a little insane. I cannot quite say. When I was told by +Sir Joseph Dunbar that there was no hope of my life, a most appalling +and frightful jealousy took possession of me. I pictured my husband with +another wife. Stoop down." + +Her voice was very faint. I could scarcely hear her muttered words. Her +eyes were glazing fast, death was claiming her, and yet hatred against +some unknown person thrilled in her feeble voice. + +"Before my husband married me, he loved another woman," she continued. +"That woman is now a widow. I felt certain that immediately after my +death he would seek her out and marry her. I could not bear the +thought--it possessed me day and night. That, and the terror of dying +alone, worked such a havoc within me that I believe I was scarcely +responsible for my own actions. A mad desire took possession of me to +take my husband with me, and so to keep him from her, and also to have +his company when I passed the barriers of life. I told you that my +brother was a doctor. In his medical-student days the sort of trick I +have been playing on Sir Henry was enacted by some of his +fellow-students for his benefit, and almost scared him into fever. One +day my brother described the trick to me, and I asked him to show me how +it was done. I used a small electric lamp and a very strong reflector." + +"How did you find out the secret door of the wardrobe?" I asked. + +"Quite by chance. I was putting some dresses into the wardrobe one day +and accidentally touched the secret panel. I saw at once that here was +my opportunity." + +"You must have been alarmed at your success," I said, after a pause. +"And now I have one more question to ask: Why did you summon me to +the Grange?" + +She made a faint, impatient movement. + +"I wanted to be certain that my husband was really very ill," she said. +"I wanted you to talk to him--I guessed he would confide in you; I +thought it most probable that you would tell him that he was a victim of +brain hallucinations. This would frighten him and would suit my purpose +exactly. I also sent for you as a blind. I felt sure that under these +circumstances neither you nor my husband could possibly suspect me." + +She was silent again, panting from exhaustion. + +"I have failed," she said, after a long pause. "You have discovered the +truth. It never occurred to me for a moment that you would go into the +room. He will recover now." + +She paused; a fresh attack of haemorrhage came on. Her breath came +quickly. Her end was very near. Her dim eyes could scarcely see. + +Groping feebly with her hand she took mine. + +"Dr. Halifax--promise." + +"What?" I asked. + +"I have failed, but let me keep his love, what little love he has for +me, before he marries that other woman. Promise that you will never +tell him." + +"Rest easy," I answered, "I will never tell him." + +Sir Henry entered the room. + +I made way for him to kneel by his wife's side. + +As the grey morning broke Lady Studley died. + +Before my departure from the Grange I avoided Sir Henry as much as +possible. Once he spoke of the apparition and asked if I had seen it. +"Yes," I replied. + +Before I could say anything further, he continued:-- + +"I know now why it came; it was to warn me of my unhappy wife's death." +He said no more. I could not enlighten him, and he is unlikely now ever +to learn the truth. + +The following day I left Studley Grange. I took with me, without asking +leave of any-one, a certain long black cloak, a small electric lamp, +and a magnifying glass of considerable power. + +It may be of interest to explain how Lady Studley in her unhealthy +condition of mind and body performed the extraordinary trick by which +she hoped to undermine her husband's health, and ultimately cause +his death. + +I experimented with the materials which I carried away with me, and +succeeded, so my friends told me, in producing a most ghastly effect. + +I did it in this way. I attached the mirror of a laryngoscope to my +forehead in such a manner as to enable it to throw a strong reflection +into one of my eyes. In the centre of the bright side of the +laryngoscope a small electric lamp was fitted. This was connected with a +battery which I carried in my hand. The battery was similar to those +used by the ballet girls in Drury Lane Theatre, and could be brought +into force by a touch and extinguished by the removal of the pressure. +The eye which was thus brilliantly illumined looked through a lens of +some power. All the rest of the face and figure was completely covered +by the black cloak. Thus the brightest possible light was thrown on the +magnified eye, while there was corresponding increased gloom around. + +When last I heard of Studley Grange it was let for a term of years and +Sir Henry had gone abroad. I have not heard that he has married again, +but he probably will, sooner or later. + + * * * * * + + + +_The Queen of Holland._ + +BY MARY SPENCER-WARREN. + + + Her Majesty the Queen-Regent of Holland has graciously accorded + special permission to the writer of the following article to + visit the Royal Palaces of Amsterdam and The Hague to obtain + photographs for publication in this Magazine: a privilege of + the greatest value, which is now accorded for the first time, + the palaces never before having been photographed. + + +[Illustration: THE ROYAL PALACE, AMSTERDAM. +_From a Photo. by Gunn & Stuart, Richmond._] + +"I know a city, whose inhabitants dwell on the tops of trees like +rooks." Thus spake Erasmus; and this literal fact makes Amsterdam a most +curious as well as a most interesting place. + +Were I writing of any one of Queen Victoria's Palaces, I should have no +need to speak of its situation: but, travellers though we are, we do not +all see these quaint Dutch cities, so a few introductory words may not +come amiss. + +A walk round the city reminds one of Paris with its Boulevards planted +with trees, and Venice with its all-present canals; indeed, it is +actually divided up into nearly one hundred islands, connected by over +three hundred bridges. A curious thing is, that its inhabitants are +really living below the level of the sea, which is stoutly dammed out. +Thus, if necessary, water could be made its protection from +any invasion. + +To go back to the commencement, everything, streets, houses, and bridges +are all built upon wooden piles driven into the ground. This is +absolutely necessary, as the natural soil is such that no permanent +structure can be put up otherwise. On how many piles this city stands it +is impossible to form an accurate idea; one building--the Royal Palace +(Het Paleis)--resting on some 13,659. This is situated on the Dam, the +highest point of the city. It is 282ft. long; the height, with tower, +being 187ft. It was built from 1648-1655 for a town hall, and only +became a Royal Palace in 1808, when Napoleon first abode in it. As such, +it has a great drawback, the want of a suitable entrance. + +[Illustration: THE HALL OR RECEPTION-ROOM. +_From a Photo. by Gunn & Stuart, Richmond._] + +I enter now at the rear of the building, which--situated in the Gedempte +Voorburgwal--is the entrance used by their Majesties. In spite of its +civic associations, when once inside there is much of the state and +grandeur inseparable from Royalty, and I soon determine that Holland can +almost equal England for its palatial contents and embellishments. The +staircases and corridors are severe to simplicity, but when I look round +the first apartment I intend inspecting, I am struck with the immensity +and the exceeding beauty of its appearance. This is known as the Hall or +Reception-Room, and is said to be the finest in Europe. Its proportions +are certainly magnificent, 125ft. by 55ft.--a special feature being a +remarkably fine roof, 100ft. in height, with entire absence of columns +or other support. Roof, walls, and the hall entire are lined with white +Italian marble, the floor having an inlaid copper centre representative +of the Firmament. The large flag you see drooping from the roof is +commemorative of the siege of Antwerp, being the one used by General +Chasse on that occasion, the various groups of smaller ones being +reminiscences of the eighty years' Spanish war and of Indian foes. Some +very beautiful examples of the sculptor's art are manifest, the +photographic work here introduced giving some idea of the exquisite +detail and most remarkable execution of Artus Quellin and his able +assistants. + +Here you will observe an allegorical group denoting Plenty, Wisdom, and +Strength, typical of the City of Amsterdam. We had a little adventure in +securing views of this hall. At one end is a small gallery, used as the +mainstay for the temporary orchestra, which is erected on festal +occasions. Thinking our work could be better shown from that point, we +proceeded to it by a dark and winding staircase in the rear. + +All went well for a time, but during a period of watchful quietude our +artist was suddenly and unexpectedly confronted with a gathering of rats +of anything but peaceable aspect. It was too much for him! He made a +wild rush for the staircase, which, being narrow and treacherous, +resulted in a too rapid descent, a very forcible alighting at the foot, +and a much bruised and shaken body. + +For a few minutes we thought our photographic work would be closed for a +season; but when spirits and energies revived, we began to think of the +camera and the very long exposure plate up at the top; so up we went +again with much clattering commotion to warn our enemies of our +approach, and thus you have a view that one of our party will ever +regard as dearly obtained. + +Note the extremely delicate crystal chandeliers, for these are quite a +feature in the Dutch Palaces; so graceful and handsome, and so unlike +the generality of heavily-constructed appendages one is accustomed to +behold. The other end of the hall has also some choice sculptured +marble, but unfortunately part of it is hidden by the before-mentioned +gallery. Could you obtain a clear view, you would see a figure of +Justice, with Ignorance and Quarrelsomeness crouched at her feet: on one +side a skeleton, and on the other Punishment. Above all is the figure of +Atlas supporting the globe. + +Here I am given a full description of the appearance of this hall when +laid for the State banquet on the occasion of the somewhat recent visit +of the German Emperor. Splendid, indeed, must have been the effect of +the hundreds of lights gleaming upon the pure marble, the rare exotics, +the massive plate, the State dresses, and the rich liveries; and I am +not surprised at the enthusiasm of the narrator as he dilates on the +grandeur displayed. + +[Illustration: THE THRONE ROOM. +_From a Photo. by Gunn & Stuart, Richmond._] + +Passing through the doorway immediately under Atlas, I am at once in the +Throne Room. This is a fine apartment; its ceiling in alternate painted +panels and arms in relief, Marble columns stand out from the rich oaken +walls, rich draperies giving colour to the whole. I hear of a rare old +painting and a fine chimney-piece hidden away behind the throne, but +have no opportunity of seeing, so perforce turn my attention elsewhere. +On either side are some glass fronted cases containing quite a +collection of ragged and venerable regimental colours of unmistakable +Spanish origin. Had I time to linger, I should hear of many fierce +struggles and much gallant conduct ere these trophies were taken; but +all this is of the past, and so I leave them, silent tokens of +national pride. + +[Illustration: THE QUEEN OF HOLLAND. +_From a Photo. by W. G. Kuijer, Amsterdam._] + +The chandeliers here are of very unique and costly appearance: Royal +Arms and crowns in ormolu, with pendants of curious device in pure +crystal; three hundred and sixty-four lights are here displayed. + +While I have been looking round, attentive servitors have been busily +engaged in uncovering the throne and canopy for my inspection, and the +crown which surmounts the chair is fetched from its safe keeping place, +screwed on, and I am at liberty to thoroughly examine the most important +piece of furniture in the kingdom. + +It is essentially new looking; and really _is_ so, only having been +fitted up some three years since, on the death of the late King and the +consequent accession of Wilhelmina, the present child-Queen. Virtually +this seat is unoccupied, as five years must elapse ere the coming of age +and coronation of her youthful Majesty. Meanwhile her mother is +Queen-Regent, governing wisely and well, and endearing herself to the +people in every way; but more especially in the care she manifests in +the training of their future ruler to the proper regard of the important +position she will have to fill, and the faithful observance of duties +appertaining to such a position. + +[Illustration: THE QUEEN-REGENT. +_From a Photo. by W. G. Kuijer, Amsterdam._] + +Accomplishments are imparted as a matter of course, but very much +attention is given to formation of character, and many stories reached +me of the wise method displayed, and the already promising result, +giving much hope for a bright future. As most of my readers are aware, +the Queen Regent and our Duchess of Albany are sisters, and all who know +anything of the sweet-faced widow of our beloved Queen's youngest son +will at once comprehend much of the sister whom she so nearly resembles. + +Perhaps you would like a description of the throne. The chair is +beautifully burnished, covered with ruby velvet, and edged with ruby and +gold fringe; the back is surmounted by a crown containing sapphires, +with lions in support; another crown and the letter W being wrought on +the velvet immediately underneath. In front of the chair is a footstool +to match. The canopy is curtained in ruby velvet, with lining of cream +silk--in token of the youth of its future occupant--with fringe, cord, +and tassels of gold. It is surmounted by crowns and ostrich plumes, on +the inner centre being worked the Royal Arms, with the motto "Je +Maintiendrai" standing out in bold relief. On either side the canopy may +be noted the floral wreaths containing the "Zuid Holland" and "Noord +Holland" respectively. The room--as are the major part of them--is +richly carpeted with hand-made "Deventers" of artistic design and +colour blend. + +[Illustration: THE QUEEN'S SITTING-ROOM. +_From a Photo. by Gunn & Stewart, Richmond._] + +Leaving here, I pass on to a room which is of much importance, namely, +the sitting-room of Her Majesty the Queen. In the lifetime of the late +King it was his habit to pass very much of his time here; thus, this was +really His Majesty's audience chamber. Here he would have his little +daughter of whom he was passionately fond--taking a great delight in +listening to her merry prattle, and her amusing remarks on whatever +attracted her attention. The windows of the room look out on to the Dam, +a large square, which is quite the busiest part of the city. The view +from these windows is a never-ending source of interest to the little +Princess, and here she is wont to station herself, the inhabitants +continually congregating and greeting her with hearty cheering. + +The room has an artistic ceiling by Holsteyn, and on the walls are some +paintings rich in detail, and of much historic interest. One of Flinck's +largest works--"Marcus Curius Dentatus"--is at one end: at the other, +one of Ferdinand Bol's--"Fabricius in the Camp of Pyrrhus." Facing the +windows is one by Wappers and Eeckhout: one that irresistibly appeals +to the hearts of all Hollanders. It is called the "Self-Sacrifice of Van +Speyk," and depicts the brave admiral of that name blowing up his vessel +rather than surrender. + +Van Speyk was educated in one of the public schools for which Amsterdam +is famous. Quite early in life he entered the navy, where his career was +brilliant and his promotion rapid, but never did he so gain the devoted +admiration of his countrymen as when he had nothing before him but death +or defeat, and chose the former, calling on his men to jump and swim, if +they cared to; if not, to remain and share his fate. Only one jumped: +the others stood by their commander, faced death calmly, and won a +never-dying renown for their heroism. + +There is a wonderful chandelier from the ceiling centre, made of copper +and ormolu, burning seventy-two lights, and of such enormous size that +one wonders how many floors it would crash through if it were to give +way; then I learn that it is supported by concealed cross-beams hidden +away under the ceiling. After that information, it is a great deal more +comfortable to walk about under it than hitherto, as the men in +uncovering it had moved it, and it was still swinging backwards and +forwards in anything but a reassuring manner. Some fine marble columns +and a sculptured chimney-piece are worth attention, as are the costly +hangings and carpet. Here I may say that the greater part of the +furniture in this Palace is "First Empire" style, and of the costliest +description. + +[Illustration: A CORNER OF THE QUEEN'S SITTING-ROOM. +_From a Photo. by Gunn & Stuart, Richmond._] + +What will, no doubt, greatly interest you is the accompanying photograph +of small furniture specially made for her youthful Majesty, and used +exclusively by her. The frames are of the finest over-burnish, the plush +upholstery being decorated with the rarest specimens of art needlework. +On one of the little tables you will note a battledore and shuttlecock, +with another thrown upon the floor, as though the player had been +suddenly interrupted in the midst of her play. Very ordinary make and +shape are these toys, such as you may see in any middle-class English +home, and each of them looking like favourites--judging from the signs +of much use they present. + +Play-days are not yet over for the Queen, and doubtless she does not +wish to hasten their departure, for children are children all the world +over, whether born in palace or cottage. This particular one is not to +be envied by those of lower station, who have not the responsibility of +position ever looming in front of them--for she is shut away from many +youthful pleasures, and denied the constant companionship of those +suited to her age. + +I heard a story that on one occasion, in playing with her dolls, she was +thus heard to speak to a supposed refractory one: "Now, be good and +quiet, because if you don't I will turn you into a Queen, and then you +will not have anyone to play with at all." That is sufficiently pathetic +to speak volumes of what it is to be born in the purple, as was +Wilhelmina of the Netherlands. + +[Illustration: PAINTED FRIEZE ON MANTEL-PIECE IN DINING-ROOM. +_From a Photo. by Gunn & Stuart, Richmond_.] + +The Hall of the Mose is the next place I visit, used as the small dining +room of the Royal Family. Unfortunately, this is just undergoing +partial restoration, so no proper picture or description can be +obtained. I observe a painted ceiling, some marble columns of the Ionic +order, blue and gold furniture and hangings; and then some costly and +rare paintings, three in number. + +Facing the windows is a masterpiece of Jakob de Wit, "Moses Choosing the +Seventy Elders." The figures are life-size, the painting--extending the +entire length of the room--said to be the largest in Europe. There are +marble fireplaces at either end, over one "Solomon's Prayer," by G. +Flinck, and over the other "Jethro Counselling Moses to Appoint +Judges from the People," by Bronkhorst. Quite a feature of this room is +the wonderful deceptive painting by this master over each door, and on a +continuous frieze. All of this is such an exact representation of +sculptured relief, that it is almost necessary to touch it ere one can +be convinced of its really level surface. I was told that this is the +only known example of this truly wonderful work. + +[Illustration: THE JUDGMENT OF SOLOMON. +_From a Photo. by Gunn & Stuart, Richmond_.] + +Continuing my way through the aides-de-camps' waiting-room--stopping +merely to note one of Jan Livensz' works--I go on to the Vierschaar. +Here the walls are lined entirely with white marble, and present a fine +sculptured frieze representing Disgrace and Punishment, with reliefs +emblematical of Wisdom and Justice. The one here presented is Wisdom, as +shown in the Judgment of Solomon. + +In the large dining-room may also be seen more of the matchless white +marble ornamentation, and I should much like to linger and admire, but +as Her Majesty the Queen-Regent has graciously promised me the _entree_ +of other of her Royal Palaces, I am obliged rather to curtail my work in +Amsterdam. + +Just now their Majesties are not at this particular Palace, so I see +nothing of State dinners, receptions, and other functions, but although +I do not see them, I hear very much; and it would seem that when they +_are_ here, the Palace is a sort of open house, and festivity is the +order of the day. To all appearance the etiquette is not quite so rigid +as at _our_ Court, the Sovereign being more accessible to the people. +Persons wishing to pay their respects call at the Palace about five days +previous, write their name in a book kept for the purpose, then they are +admitted on the specified day, provided no good reason exists for their +exclusion. The people are eminently loyal, and speak of the little Queen +in tones of warmest affection, an affection which is also extended to +the Queen-Regent, who has evidently made herself a firm position in +the country. + +The Palace at Den Haag is before me now, but first perhaps you would +like to know something of the Palace at the Loo, a place I had the +privilege of seeing; though, as their Majesties were actually in +residence there, photographic work was not possible. + +The Loo is near Apeldoorn, and some considerable distance from +Amsterdam. I have only the one day to spare, so am off early in the +morning. Steaming out of the Central Station, I soon find myself +speeding along in such comfortable, well-warmed carriages as would +rejoice the unfortunate winter traveller in this country, who is all but +dependent on his ability to pay for the not very useful foot-warmer. + +The country is pretty but flat, dykes instead of hedges, windmills +without number; hundreds of cows in the fields, very fine cattle, but +they _do_ look comical, for the majority of them are wearing coats! + +At frequent intervals along the line are road crossings, each with their +little gatehouse, and each kept by a woman, who turns out as we pass, +dressed in her long blue coat with scarlet facings, quaint, tall shiny +hat, and in her hand the signal-flag. + +At length I reach Apeldoorn, and there a difficulty presents itself. +That the Palace is some distance away I am aware, but _how_ far I do not +know, or in which direction, and while I am parleying and gesticulating +in a mixture of French, English, and a _few_ words of Dutch, the only +conveyance obtainable takes itself off, and I am left to tramp through +the woods with a jargon of Dutch directions ringing in my ears, and a +very faint idea of longitude or latitude in my mind. + +The first part lay through a long, straggling village leading right into +a beautiful forest. Given a fine day, and a certainty of route, it would +have been simply grand; but as it soon poured in torrents, my situation +was anything but enviable--in fact, I was almost in despair, when a huge +cart laden with trunks of trees came slowly from a turning near. + +Making the man in charge understand that I wanted the "Paleis," I found +he was bound in the same direction. By this time the rutty roads were +almost ankle deep in mud, so when I was invited to ride, I gladly +scrambled to the top of the pile, and so jogged along; my good-natured +guide trudging at the side, pipe in mouth, regardless of the weather. In +such stately style, then, I at length sighted the Palace, but was +careful to make a descent before getting _too_ near, as THE STRAND +MAGAZINE must make a more dignified appearance at a Royal residence than +a wood-cart and a smock-frocked driver can impart. + +Four or five men in State liveries bow profoundly as I enter, one of +whom conducts me to an ante-room, and, after a short interval, through +some long corridors, up some stairs and into the presence of one of Her +Majesty's Gentlemen of the Household. A courteous interview with him, +and I am asked to wait for Her Majesty's Private Secretary, who, out at +present, will see me on his return. + +[Illustration: THE ROYAL PALACE AT DEN HAAG. +_From a Photo. by Gunn & Stuart, Richmond_.] + +Of course I make the best use of the interval and see all I can of the +Palace. A fine-looking and imposing building it is, standing back in a +large quadrangle, the latter being gay with flowers. The outer rails are +literally on the edge of the wood, and no more secluded spot can be +imagined than this--the favourite residence of their Majesties. His +Majesty the late King also preferred this residence to those more +immediately near or in towns, and it was here he breathed his last. + +What I see of the interior is superbly grand, but it is more to the +purpose that I have the honour of seeing their Majesties during the day, +and the opportunity of some observation. The youthful Queen seems a most +pleasing and intelligent-looking child, and is eminently child-like and +unaffected in her manner and movements. Readers may be interested in +knowing that, in addition to masters provided for Her Majesty's +training, she has an English governess, under whose charge she is more +immediately placed. + +The Queen-Regent, as I have already said, much resembles her sister; not +so tall, rather stouter, but with much the same gentle and rather sad +expression of countenance. Strange that these two sisters should both +become widows at an early age. One comfort they have, there is no very +great distance between them; and though, of course, the Queen-Regent +cannot leave her country much, there is nothing to prevent the Duchess +of Albany going there; so a suite of apartments is kept for her at +each Palace. + +My interview with Her Majesty's Private Secretary is of the most +pleasant, and I cannot but record my grateful appreciation of this +gentleman's kindness and courtesy extended towards me throughout my stay +in Holland; such courteous attention much facilitating my work. + +Back again to Amsterdam; and the next day off in quite an opposite +direction to Den Haag, one of the cleanest and most picturesque places I +have ever seen. + +[Illustration: STATUE OF WILLIAM II, WITH THE CHURCH. +_From a Photo. by Gunn & Stuart, Richmond_.] + +Here the Palace was built by William II. It is in the Grecian style, and +stands on the site of a former hunting-lodge, dating back to the 9th +century. Facing the principal entrance is an equestrian statue of +William II., at the back of which you note the church attended by the +family. The entrance hall and staircase are lined with marble, the +stairs themselves being of the same. Before proceeding up them, however, +we go through to the pretty and well-kept garden and take a view from +the lawn. In the right wing of the building as it faces you, the Queen's +private apartments are situated, the left wing containing the rooms +occupied by the Duchess of Albany when at The Hague. + +Now we pass up the grand staircase, where I pause to note the Ionic +columns, the ormolu and porcelain candelabra, a Siberian vase from the +Emperor Nicholas, five immense vases from the Emperor of China, a +painting of William IV., and one of Maria of Stockholm and family. + +[Illustration: THE LATE KING'S RECEPTION-ROOM. +_From a Photo. by Gunn & Stuart, Richmond_.] + +Leaving here, the first room I enter is the King's reception-room. This +is a very bright looking and expensively fitted apartment, furnished in +electric blue and gold, massive gold-framed panels, and a ceiling +decorated in relief with arms and mottoes in gold and white. The +chimney-piece is purest marble, the frescoes showing crowns, arms, etc. +The candelabra are over-burnished brass and Dresden china, some +being Japanese. + +[Illustration: THE QUEEN'S BALL-ROOM. +_From a Photo. by Gunn & Stuart, Richmond._] + +The next room is most interesting, for it is a small ball-room, the +ball-room in fact of Her Majesty the Queen. It has a beautiful inlaid +floor, a white ceiling worked in relief, crimson and gold curtains, and +furniture of the First Empire, some of it upholstered in gold silk, with +a variety of colours intermixed. Here are shown some priceless Sevres +china, and a present of vases from the Emperor Napoleon. Also I note a +fine marble vase from the King's Palace in Luxemburg. On the wall are +some handsome gold-framed mirrors, and from the ceiling costly +chandeliers with two hundred and twenty lights. The mantel is +exquisitely carved marble, with an ormolu frieze. On one side you will +note a small piano; it is a French one, of very clear and fine tone, and +beautifully finished in every respect. In this room Her Majesty the +Queen may be imagined enjoying the balls given to the youthful +aristocracy, something different to the State dances in the larger room; +and, doubtless, by a long way, much more enjoyable. By the time the +Queen can command the State balls, she will have commenced to feel the +cares of her position; and will look back with real regret to the +assemblies here, when she had merely to enjoy herself, a devoted mother +observing the graver duties, her own greatest trouble, perhaps, being +the acquirement of the tasks assigned by the governess and masters. + +[Illustration: THE LARGE DINING-ROOM. +_From a Photo by Gunn & Stuart, Richmond._] + +The large dining-room has some fine family portraits on its walls. The +first you will notice is that of William II., on horseback, leading an +attack; the artist (Keirzer) has produced a first-rate work of both man +and horse. Underneath this picture stands the favourite horse of William +II., one which carried him through numerous engagements, and earned from +his Royal master a gratitude and affection that caused him to wish for +his preservation in a position where he would constantly be reminded of +him. + +[Illustration: FAVOURITE HORSE OF WILLIAM II. +_From a Photo. by Gunn & Stuart, Richmond._] + +The ceiling of this room shows some beautiful relief carving of fruit +and flowers, also some fine fresco work; the chandeliers here are +massive, as is the furniture and other appointments. The room is long +and of not much width, but lofty and well-lighted. + +The buffet adjoining the dining-room has some very costly and, at the +same time, some very interesting contents. The Empire furniture is +draped in rich crimson silk, the walls being covered with silk brocade +of the same colour. The chimney-piece of sculptured marble, with an +ormolu frieze, holds some choice antique porcelain vases and a valuable +Roman timepiece. A massive chandelier hangs from the centre of a ceiling +wrought with the arms of the house--this chandelier being solid silver. +It was presented by the inhabitants of Amsterdam, while two silver +lustres at the sides of the fireplace were presented by Rotterdam. Two +exquisite statues stand in front of the windows, one of Venus, the other +Diana, midway between which is an immense porcelain vase on a pedestal. +This you will note in the view given of the room. It has special +interest just now, as it was given by Marshal MacMahon, whose death +recently occurred, and whose funeral--a State military one--I had the +opportunity of witnessing a few weeks ago in Paris. + +[Illustration: THE CRYSTAL ROOM. +_From a Photo. by Gunn & Stuart, Richmond._] + +The windows are of very fine stained glass, the different panes giving +portraits of Kings and Princes, under each being depicted battles they +had fought. Note this rare Florentine mosaic table with pedestal of +ormolu; then we will pass on to the crystal room, an ante-room to the +ball-room. Some immense candelabra of purest crystal at once attracted +my attention; not only were they of the largest I had ever seen, but +they were absolutely unique in composition: the pedestals in support +were ormolu and marble. + +[Illustration: SIDEBOARD AND MINIATURES IN SMALL DINING-ROOM. +_From a Photo by Gunn & Stuart, Richmond._] + +The appointments here are again in the First Empire style. The view here +shown is looking into the small dining-room, the private dining-room of +their Majesties. In it there is to be seen a costly collection of +miniatures, nearly a hundred and twenty in number, every one of them +from the hand of Dutch masters. They are all beautifully framed in +groups. In the photograph you will observe a finely carved side-board +with some of these miniatures showing on either side. Also in this room +you will find several specimens of engraving on brass and some Russian +productions in malachite. + +[Illustration: THE STATE BALL-ROOM. +_From a Photo by Gunn & Stuart, Richmond._] + +Now to the State ball-room--a nobly proportioned room, but of somewhat +severe aspect Some good relief carving is shown and a splendid parquetry +floor; also some costly furniture, over-burnished and upholstered in +crimson with floral devices. No doubt it has a very imposing and gay +appearance when lighted up and filled with guests. Nearly seven hundred +lights are displayed, which would naturally cause a most brilliant +effect. Somehow ball-rooms are never satisfactory when viewed in the +day-time, unless you have an eye for proportions only; in that case this +one could not fail to please, as it cannot be less than 90ft. long and +is of magnificent height, added to by a glass concave roof. + +[Illustration: THE QUEEN'S RECEPTION-ROOM. +_From a Photo by Gunn & Stuart, Richmond._] + +The Queen's reception-room is prettily hung in crimson with designs +depicting art and music; the furniture bright and handsome in crimson +and cream. On either side of the fireplace stand some crimson velvet +screens in burnished frames, the crown and arms worked on the velvet in +characters of gold. In the accompanying view you will observe a large +album on a stand; this was given to the Queen-Regent by the ladies of +Holland. It is of leather, with ormolu mounts, on the covers being +painted panels and flowers worked in silk, these flowers being +surrounded with rubies and pearls; and at either corner is a large +sapphire. The interior shows pages of vellum, with names of subscribers +beautifully inscribed. + +This room will, of course, be the one where the young Queen will receive +when she commences to reign. + +From here I went to view a suite of apartments, formerly the property of +Queen Sophia, the first Consort of the late King. These rooms are still +in the same condition as when Her Majesty died; they are very fine +rooms, and contain a vast number of curios of every description. They +are lined entirely from floor to ceiling with mahogany; the furniture, +which is massive, antique, and beautifully carved, being also of +mahogany and tulip wood. I find one of Erard's grand pianos standing in +the boudoir, and am told that it was a favourite instrument of the late +Queen. There are some fine specimens of vases: one an "Adam and Eve," +some of Swiss make, and others of Dresden. Also I note an exquisite +model of a ship, an inlaid Empire mirror, and other treasures too +numerous to particularize. + +[Illustration: OVER-MANTEL IN TEA-ROOM. +_From a Photo by Gunn & Stuart, Richmond._] + +The tea-room is another that I must make brief mention of. It contains +some valuable souvenirs in the form of vases, some from the Emperor +Napoleon (these are jewelled), some from William IV. of Germany, and +some from the Emperor Frederick. Then there are others from Berlin and +Potsdam, and still others of Sevres. On the marble mantel is a very +intricate French timepiece, and over it an exquisite silver-framed +mirror. An inlaid mosaic table is a feature here. The worth of it must +be fabulous; the design is marvellously executed. Pope Pius IX. was the +donor. This room is really the tea-room for the Royal ladies when in +residence. Music is again to the fore, and here Steinway is the +favourite, one of his grand pianos occupying the place of honour. + +Now I go downstairs for a brief survey of the private apartments of the +late King. I shall not attempt to describe them in detail, but content +myself with mention of one or two things I specially noticed. I started +with the billiard-room, a good-sized room and well fitted; but obscured +by the covers denoting non-usage. One curious article I must note. It is +a clock and musical-box combined, giving out a variety of twenty-seven +tunes. The visible part of it is a pure alabaster representation of the +tomb of our Henry II, supported by lions couchant. Rather a strange +model for a musical-box containing lively airs, is it not? + +[Illustration: THE LATE KING'S SITTING-ROOM. +_From a Photo. by Gunn & Stuart, Richmond._] + +Then I pass on through the King's dining-room, a stately and +richly-appointed apartment. On through the Ministers' room, and so into +His Majesty's private sitting-room. Here I cannot but linger, there are +so many treasures rich and rare, the chief of which consists in the +elaborate cabinets and other furniture, all of tortoiseshell and silver, +quite the best I have seen of its kind. Some of it looks as though +crammed with secret drawers, and I stand before it wondering whether +Queen Wilhelmina will be as anxious to discover and overhaul them as _I_ +should be. + +I could tell you a deal more of what I saw at this Palace at Den Haag, +but, doubtless, have said enough to show you something of its wealth of +appointments and costly treasures. One cannot help thinking what a sum +all this has cost, and what it must take to keep up so many places; but +the Royal Family of the Netherlands have well-lined coffers, as it is +not only their own country that owns their supremacy, but they have also +many dependencies in the Indies, bringing in enormous revenues. + +[Illustration: "T'HUIS IN'T BOSCH," NEAR DEN HAAG. +_From a Photo. by Gunn & Stuart, Richmond._] + +I have mentioned three Palaces; I know of five; but will close with just +a few words respecting a fourth, and a view of the same, which is +charmingly pretty. This Palace is called "T'Huis in't Bosch," and is +just a nice carriage drive from the town of Den Haag. It stands right in +the midst of a beautiful park, with herds of deer and hundreds of +gay-plumaged birds--a park that far and away surpasses even our vaunted +Richmond Park--magnificent timber, dense undergrowth, wild flowers in +profusion, and now and again winding lakes and streams, crossed by +rustic bridges, and such views over hill and dale as would delight +either an artist or an admirer of Nature. The above view of the house +will give a good idea of its outside appearance. I have no time for +interiors, or should be tempted to prolong this indefinitely. We have +had a peep at the Palaces of Holland, and many of us will know more of +the country and its reigning family for the visit. + +Holland, with its youthful Queen, has a future we cannot wot of, but we +all hope it is a prosperous and bright one, and we all agree in thanking +Her Majesty the Queen-Regent for the opportunity of gaining this +information, and wish for her daughter all the happiness and wisdom that +she--the Royal mother--could desire for her. + + * * * * * + +[_The Illustrated Interviews will be continued as usual next month_.] + + * * * * * + + + +_Zig-Zags at the Zoo._ + +XIX. ZIG-ZAG BATRACHIAN. + +[Illustration] + + +The frog and the toad suffer, in this world of injustice, from a +deprival of the respect and esteem that is certainly their due. In the +case of the frog this may be due largely to the animal's headlong and +harlequin-like character, but the toad is a steady personage, whose +solemnity of deportment, not to speak of his stoutness, entitles him to +high consideration in a world where grave dulness and personal +circumference always attract reverence. The opening lines of a certain +famous poem have without a doubt done much to damage the dignity of the +frog. "The frog he would a-wooing go" is not, perhaps, disrespectful, +although flippant; but "whether his mother would let him or no" is a +gross insult. Of course, it is a matter upon which no self-respecting +frog ever consults his mother; but the absurd jingle is immortal, and +the frog's dignity suffers by it. Then there is a certain pot-bellied +smugness of appearance about the frog that provokes a smile in the +irreverent. Still, the frog has received some consideration in his time. +The great Homer himself did not disdain to sing the mighty battle of the +frogs and mice; and Aristophanes gave the frogs a most important chorus +in one of his comedies; moreover, calling the whole comedy "The Frogs," +although he had his choice of title-names among many very notable +characters--AEschylus, Euripides, Bacchus, Pluto, Proserpine, and other +leaders of society. Still, in every way the frog and the toad are +underesteemed--as though such a thing as a worthy family frog or an +honourable toad of business were in Nature impossible. It is not as +though they were useless. The frog's hind legs make an excellent dish +for those who like it, as well as a joke for those who don't. Powdered +toad held in the palm is a fine thing to stop the nose bleeding--or, at +any rate, it was a couple of hundred years ago, according to a dear old +almanac I have. On the same unimpeachable authority I may fearlessly +affirm a smashed frog--smashed on the proper saint's day--in conjunction +with hair taken from a ram's forehead and a nail stolen from a piebald +mare's shoe, to be a certain remedy for ague, worn in a little leather +bag. If it fails it will be because the moon was in the wrong quarter, +or the mare was not sufficiently piebald, or the nail was not stolen +with sufficient dishonesty, or some mistake of that sort. + +[Illustration: A SMALL LUNCH.] + +Personally, I am rather fond of frogs and toads. This, of course, in a +strictly platonic sense, and entirely apart from dinner. A toad I admire +even more than a frog, because of his gentlemanly calm. He never rushes +at his food ravenously, as do so many other creatures. Place a worm near +him and you will see. He inspects the worm casually, first with one eye +and then with the other, as who would say: "Luncheon? Certainly. +Delighted, I'm sure." Then he sits placidly awhile, as though thinking +of something else altogether. Presently he rises slightly on his feet +and looks a little--very little--more attentively at the worm. "Oh, +yes," he is saying--"luncheon, of course. Whenever you like, you know." +And he becomes placid again, as though interested in the general +conversation. After a little he suddenly straightens his hind legs and +bends down over the worm, like a man saying, "Ah, and what have we got +here now? Oh, worm--_ver au naturel_--capital, capital!" After this +there is nothing to do but to eat, and this the toad does without the +smallest delay. For leisurely indifference, followed by a business-like +grab, nothing can beat a toad. Almost before the cover is lifted, +figuratively speaking, the worm's head and tail are wriggling, like a +lively moustache, out of the sides of the toad's mouth. The head and +tail he gently pats in with his hands, and there is no longer any worm; +after which the toad smiles affably and comfortably, possibly meditating +a liqueur. I have an especial regard for the giant toad in one of the +cases against the inner wall of the reptile-house lobby. There is a +pimpliness of countenance and a comfortable capaciousness of waistcoat +about him that always make me wonder what he has done with his +churchwarden and pewter. He has a serene, confidential, +well-old-pal-how-are-you way of regarding Tyrrell, his keeper. Of late +(for some few months, that is) the giant toad has been turning something +over in his mind, as one may perceive from his cogitative demeanour. He +is thinking, I am convinced, of the new Goliath Beetle. The Goliath +Beetle, he is thinking, would make rather a fit supper for the Giant +Toad. This because he has never seen the beetle. His mind might be set +at rest by an introduction to Goliath, but the acquaintanceship would do +no good to the beetle's morals. At present Goliath is a most exemplary +vegetarian and tea-drinker, but evil communications with that pimply, +dissipated toad would wreck his principles. + +[Illustration: "THINK I COULD MANAGE THAT BEETLE, TYRRELL?"] +[Illustration: EVIL COMMUNICATIONS.] + +Why one should speak of the Adorned Ceratophrys when the thing might +just as well be called the Barking Frog, I don't know. Let us compromise +and call him the Adorned C., in the manner of Mr. Wemmick. I respect the +Adorned C. almost as much as if he were a toad instead of a frog, but +chiefly I admire his mouth. A crocodile has a very respectable +mouth--when it separates its jaws it opens its head. But when the +Adorned C. smiles he opens out his entire anatomical bag of tricks-- +comes as near bisecting himself indeed as may be; opens, in short, like +a Gladstone bag. From a fat person, of course, you expect a broad, +genial smile; but you are doubly gratified when you find it extending +all round him. That, you feel, is indeed no end of a smile--and that is +the smile of the Adorned C. + +[Illustration] +[Illustration: "DON'T SQUEEZE SO, TYRRELL!"] +[Illustration: "WANT ME TO BARK?"] +[Illustration: "HE CALLS THIS WINDING ME UP!"] +[Illustration: "SHAN'T BARK--"] +[Illustration: "SO THERE!"] +[Illustration: "STOW THAT, TYRRELL!"] +[Illustration: "HE'S ALWAYS DOING THAT."] +[Illustration: "I'LL GET SO WILD IN A MINUTE!"] +[Illustration: "GUR-R-R-R-."] +[Illustration: "WOW, WOW!"] +[Illustration: "SNAP! WOW-WOW!"] +[Illustration: "WHAT, GOT TO GO BACK?"] +[Illustration: "GOOD NIGHT. TYRRELL!"] + +But, notwithstanding this smile, the Adorned C. is short of temper. +Indeed, you may only make him bark by practising upon this fact. +Tyrrell's private performance with the Adorned C. is one that +irresistibly reminds the spectator of Lieutenant Cole's with his +figures, and would scarcely be improved by ventriloquism itself. The +Adorned C. prefers biting to barking, and his bite is worse than his +bark--bites always are, except in the proverb. This is why Tyrrell holds +the Adorned C. pretty tight whenever he touches him. The one aspiration +of the Adorned C. is for a quiet life, and he defends his aspiration +with bites and barks. Tyrrell touches him gently, cautiously, and +repeatedly on the back until the annoyance is no longer to be tolerated, +and then the Adorned C. duly barks like a terrier. Now, the most +interesting thing about the Adorned C., after his mouth, is his bark, +and why he should be reluctant to exhibit it except under pressure of +irritation--why he should hide his light under a bushel of ill-temper--I +can't conceive. It is as though Patti wouldn't sing till her manager +threw an egg at her, or as though Sir Frederick Leighton would only +paint a picture after Mr. Whistler had broken his studio windows with a +brick. Even the whistling oyster of London tradition would perform +without requiring a preliminary insult or personal assault. But let us +account everything good if possible; perhaps the Adorned C. only suffers +from a modest dislike for vain display; although this is scarcely +consistent with the internal exhibition afforded by his smile. + +[Illustration] +[Illustration] +[Illustration] +[Illustration] +[Illustration] +[Illustration] +[Illustration] +[Illustration] +[Illustration] + +With the distinction of residence in the main court of the reptile-house +itself, as also with the knowledge of its rarity, the Smooth-clawed +Frog sets no small value on himself. He lives in water perpetually, and +is always bobbing mysteriously about in it with his four-fingered hands +spread out before him. This seems to me to be nothing but a vulgar +manifestation of the Smooth-clawed Frog's self-appreciation. He is like +a coster conducting a Dutch auction, except that it is himself that he +puts up for the bids of admiring visitors. With his double bunch of four +fingers held eagerly before him he says--or means to say--"'Ere--eight! +Ain't that cheap enough? Eight! Going at eight. Who says eight? Now +then--eight; for a noble frog like me!" Presently, he wriggles a little +in the water, as though vexed at the slackness of offers; then he drops +one of the hands and leaves the other outstretched. "'Ere--four! +Anythink to do business. Four! Nobody say four? Oh, blow this!" and with +a jerk of one long paddle he dives among the weeds. "Them shiny-lookin' +swells ain't got no money!" is what I am convinced he reports to +his friends. + +The Smooth-clawed Frog has lately begun to breed here, a thing before +unknown; so that his rarity and value are in danger of depreciation. But +such is his inordinate conceit of himself that I am convinced he will +always begin the bidding with eight. + +[Illustration] +[Illustration] +[Illustration: "HAPPY?"] +[Illustration: "I AM HAPPY."] +[Illustration: "WHY SHOULDN'T I BE HAPPY?"] +[Illustration: "THE SOCIETY LODGES ME."] +[Illustration: "TYRRELL FEEDS ME."] +[Illustration: "NO EXPENSE TO ME, YOU KNOW."] +[Illustration] +[Illustration: "GOOD DAY TO YOU."] + +If you rejoice in the sight of a really happy, contented frog, you +should stand long before White's Green Frog, and study his smile. No +other frog has a smile like this; some are wider, perhaps, but that is +nothing. A frog is ordained by Nature to smile much, but the smile seems +commonly one of hunger merely, though often one of stomach-ache. White's +Green Frog smiles broad content and placid felicity. Maintained in +comfort, with no necessity to earn his living, this is probably natural; +still, the bison enjoys the same advantages, although nobody ever saw +him smile; but, then, an animal soon to become extinct can scarcely be +expected to smile. In the smile of White's Green Frog, however, I fear, +a certain smug, Pecksniffian quality is visible. "I am a Numble +individual, my Christian friends," he seems to say, "and my wants, which +are few and simple, are providentially supplied. Therefore, I am Truly +Happy. It is no great merit in my merely batrachian nature that I am +Truly Happy; a cheerful countenance, my friends, is a duty imposed on me +by an indulgent Providence." White's Green Frog may, however, be in +reality a frog of excellent moral worth: and I trust that Green's White +Frog, if ever he is discovered, will be a moral frog too. + +[Illustration: "HERE WE ARE!"] +[Illustration: "HOW DO? I'M OFF."] +[Illustration: "EH?"] +[Illustration: "WHAT?"] +[Illustration: "WHO'S THAT?"] +[Illustration] + +By-the-bye, some green frogs are blue. That is to say, individuals of +the green species have been found of the skyey colour and sold at a good +price as rarities. When it was not easy to find one already blue, the +prudent tradesman kept a green frog in a blue glass vase for a few +weeks, and brought it out as blue as you might wish. The colour stayed +long enough, as a rule, to admit of sale at a decent price, but was +liable to fade after. As I think I have said, the toad is distinguished +by a placid calm denied to the frog; therefore it is singular that the +ordinary toad's Latin name should be _Bufo vulgaris_--a name suggestive +of nothing so much as a low--disgracefully low--comedian. _Bufo +vulgaris_ should be the name of a very inferior, rowdy clown. The frog +is a much nearer approximation to this character than the toad. The frog +comes headlong with a bound, a bunch of legs and arms, with his "Here we +are again! Fine day to-morrow, wasn't it?" and goes off with another +bound, before the toad, who is gravely analyzing the metaphysical aspect +of nothing in particular, can open his eyes to look up. The toad has one +comic act, however, of infinitely greater humour than the bouncing +buffooneries of the frog. When the toad casts his skin he quietly rolls +it up over his back and head, just as a man skins off a close-fitting +jersey. Once having drawn it well over his nose, however, he immediately +proceeds to cram it down his throat with both hands, and so it finally +disappears. Now, this is a performance of genuine and grotesque humour, +which it is worth keeping a toad to see. + + * * * * * + + + +_The Helmet._ + +From the French by Ferdinand Beissier. + + +[Illustration] + + +"But, uncle--I love my cousin!" + +"Get out!" + +"Give her to me." + +"Don't bother me!" + +"It will be my death!" + +"Nonsense! you'll console yourself with some other girl." + +"Pray--" + +My uncle, whose back had been towards me, whirled round, his face red to +bursting, and brought his closed fist down upon the counter with a +heavy thump. + +"Never!" he cried; "never: Do you hear what I say?" + +And as I looked at him beseechingly and with joined hands, he went on:-- + +"A pretty husband you look like!--without a sou, and dreaming of going +into housekeeping! A nice mess I should make of it, by giving you my +daughter! It's no use your insisting. You know that when I have said +'No,' nothing under the sun can make me say 'Yes'!" + +I ceased to make any further appeal. I knew my uncle--about as +headstrong an old fellow as could be found in a day's search. I +contented myself with giving vent to a deep sigh, and then went on with +the furbishing of a big, double-handed sword, rusty from point to hilt. + +This memorable conversation took place, in fact, in the shop of my +maternal uncle, a well-known dealer in antiquities and _objets d'art_, +No. 53, Rue des Claquettes, at the sign of the "Maltese Cross"--a +perfect museum of curiosities. + +The walls were hung with Marseilles and old Rouen china, facing ancient +cuirasses, sabres, and muskets, and picture frames; below these were +ranged old cabinets, coffers of all sorts, and statues of saints, +one-armed or one-legged for the most part and dilapidated as to their +gilding; then, here and there, in glass cases, hermetically closed and +locked, there were knick-knacks in infinite variety--lachrymatories, +tiny urns, rings, precious stones, fragments of marble, bracelets, +crosses, necklaces, medals, and miniature ivory statuettes, the yellow +tints of which, in the sun, took momentarily a flesh-like transparency. + +Time out of mind the shop had belonged to the Cornuberts. It passed +regularly from father to son, and my uncle--his neighbours said--could +not but be the possessor of a nice little fortune. Held in esteem by +all, a Municipal Councillor, impressed by the importance and gravity of +his office, short, fat, highly choleric and headstrong, but at bottom +not in the least degree an unkind sort of man--such was my uncle +Cornubert, my only living male relative, who, as soon as I left school, +had elevated me to the dignity of chief and only clerk and shopman of +the "Maltese Cross." + +But my uncle was not only a dealer in antiquities and a Municipal +Councillor, he was yet more, and above all, the father of my cousin +Rose, with whom I was naturally in love. + +To come back to the point at which I digressed. + +Without paying any attention to the sighs which exhaled from my bosom +while scouring the rust from my long, two-handed sword, my uncle, +magnifying glass in hand, was engaged in the examination of a lot of +medals which he had purchased that morning. Suddenly he raised his head; +five o'clock was striking. + +"The Council!" he cried. + +When my uncle pronounced that august word, it made a mouthful; for a +pin, he would have saluted it bare-headed. But, this time, after a +moment's consideration, he tapped his forehead and added, in a tone of +supreme relief:-- + +"No, the sitting does not take place before to-morrow--and I am +forgetting that I have to go to the railway station to get the +consignment of which I was advised this morning." + +Rising from his seat, and laying down his glass, he called out:-- + +"Rose, give me my cane and hat!" + +Then, turning towards me, he added, in a lowered tone and speaking very +quickly:-- + +"As to you--don't forget our conversation. If you think you can make me +say 'yes,' try!--but I don't think you'll succeed. Meanwhile, not a word +to Rose, or, by Saint Barthelemy, my patron of happy memory, I'll +instantly kick you out of doors!" + +[Illustration: "AT THAT MOMENT ROSE APPEARED."] + +At that moment Rose appeared with my uncle's cane and hat, which she +handed to him. He kissed her on the forehead; then, giving me a last but +eloquent look, hurried from the shop. + +I went on scouring my double-handed sword. Rose came quietly towards me. + +"What is the matter with my father?" she asked; "he seems to be angry +with you." + +I looked at her--her eyes were so black, her look so kind, her mouth so +rosy, and her teeth so white that I told her all--my love, my suit to +her father, and his rough refusal. I could not help it--after all, it +was _his_ fault! He was not there: I determined to brave his anger. +Besides, there is nobody like timid persons for displaying courage under +certain circumstances. + +My cousin said nothing; she only held down her eyes--while her cheeks +were as red as those of cherries in May. + +I checked myself. + +"Are you angry with me?" I asked, tremblingly. "Are you angry with me, +Rose?" + +She held out to me her hand. On that, my heart seething with audacity, +my head on fire, I cried:-- + +"Rose--I swear it! I will be your husband!" And as she shook her head +and looked at me sadly, I added: "Oh! I well know that my uncle is +self-willed, but I will be more self-willed still; and, since he must be +forced to say 'yes,' I will force him to say it!" + +"But how?" asked Rose. + +Ah! how? That was exactly the difficulty. But, no matter; I would find a +way to surmount it! + +At that moment a heavy step resounded in the street. Instinctively we +moved away from each other; I returned to my double-handed sword, and +Rose, to keep herself in countenance, set to dusting, with a corner of +her apron, a little statuette in its faded red velvet case. + +My uncle entered. Surprised at finding us together, he stopped short and +looked sharply at us, from one to the other. + +We each of us went on rubbing without raising our heads. + +"Here, take this," said my uncle, handing me a bulky parcel from under +his arm. "A splendid purchase, you'll see." + +The subject did not interest me in the least. + +I opened the parcel, and from the enveloping paper emerged a steel +helmet--but not an ordinary helmet, oh, no!--a superb, a monumental +morion, with gorget and pointed visor of strange form. The visor was +raised, and I tried to discover what prevented it from being lowered. + +"It will not go down--the hinges have got out of order," said my uncle; +"but it's a superb piece, and, when it has been thoroughly cleaned and +touched up, will look well--that shall be your to-morrow's job." + +"Very good, uncle," I murmured, not daring to raise my eyes to his. + +That night, on reaching my room, I at once went to bed. I was eager to +be alone and able to think at my ease. Night brings counsel, it is said; +and I had great need that the proverb should prove true. But, after +lying awake for an hour without receiving any assistance, I fell off to +sleep, and, till next morning, did nothing but dream the oddest dreams. +I saw Rose on her way to church in a strange bridal costume, a +14th-century cap, three feet high, on her head, but looking prettier +than ever; then suddenly the scene changed to moonlight, in which +innumerable helmets and pieces of old china were dancing a wild +farandola, while my uncle, clad in complete armour and with a formidable +halberd in his hand, conducted the bewildering whirl. + +[Illustration: "MY UNCLE SAT SMOKING HIS PIPE AND WATCHING ME."] + +The next day--ah, the next day!--I was no nearer. In vain, with clenched +teeth, I scoured the immense helmet brought by my uncle the previous +evening--scoured it with such fury as almost to break the iron; not an +idea came to me. The helmet shone like a sun: my uncle sat smoking his +pipe and watching me; but I could think of nothing, of no way of forcing +him to give me his daughter. + +At three o'clock Rose went into the country, whence she was not to +return until dinner-time, in the evening. On the threshold she could +only make a sign to me with her hand; my uncle had not left us alone for +a single instant. He was not easy in his mind; I could see that by his +face. No doubt he had not forgotten our conversation of the +previous evening. + +I went on rubbing at my helmet. + +"You have made it quite bright enough--put it down," said my uncle. + +I put it down. The storm was gathering: I could not do better than allow +it to blow over. + +But suddenly, as if overtaken by a strange fancy, my uncle took up the +enormous morion and turned and examined it on all sides. + +"A handsome piece of armour, there is no doubt about it; but it must +have weighed pretty heavily on its wearer's shoulders," he muttered; +and, urged by I know not what demon, he clapped it on his head and +latched the gorget-piece about his neck. + +Struck almost speechless, I watched what he was doing--thinking only +how ugly he looked. + +Suddenly there was a sharp sound--as if a spring had +snapped--and--crack!--down fell the visor; and there was my uncle, with +his head in an iron cage, gesticulating and swearing like a pagan! + +I could contain myself no longer, and burst into a roar of laughter; for +my uncle, stumpy, fat, and rubicund, presented an irresistibly comic +appearance. + +[Illustration: "THREATENINGLY HE CAME TOWARDS ME."] + +Threateningly, he came towards me. + +"The hinges!--the hinges, fool!" he yelled. + +I could not see his face, but I felt that it was red to bursting. + +"When you have done laughing, idiot!" he cried. + +But the helmet swayed so oddly on his shoulders, his voice came from out +it in such strange tones, that the more he gesticulated, the more he +yelled and threatened me, the louder I laughed. + +At that moment the clock of the Hotel-de-Ville, striking five, was +heard. + +"The Municipal Council!" murmured my uncle, in a stifled voice. "Quick! +help me off with this beast of a machine! We'll settle our business +afterwards!" + +But, suddenly likewise, an idea--a wild, extraordinary idea--came into +my head; but then, whoever is madder than a lover? Besides, I had no +choice of means. + +"No!" I replied. + +My uncle fell back two paces in terror--and again the enormous helmet +wobbled on his shoulders. + +"No," I repeated, firmly, "I'll not help you out, unless you give me the +hand of my cousin Rose!" + +From the depths of the strangely elongated visor came, not an angry +exclamation, but a veritable roar. I had "done it!"--I had burned +my ships! + +"If you do not consent to do what I ask of you," I added, "not only will +I not help you off with your helmet, but I will call in all your +neighbours, and then go and find the Municipal Council!" + +"You'll end your days on the scaffold!" cried my uncle. + +"The hand of Rose!" I repeated. "You told me that it would only be by +force that you would be made to say 'yes'--say it, or I will call in the +neighbours!" + +The clock was still striking; my uncle raised his arms as if to curse +me. + +"Decide at once," I cried, "somebody is coming!" + +"Well, then--yes!" murmured my uncle. "But make haste!" + +"On your word of honour?" + +"On my word of honour!" + +The visor gave way, the gorget-piece also, and my uncle's head issued +from durance, red as a poppy. + +Just in time. The chemist at the corner, a colleague in the Municipal +Council, entered the shop. + +"Are you coming?" he asked; "they will be beginning the business without +us." + +"I'm coming," replied my uncle. + +And without looking at me, he took up his hat and cane and hurried out. + +The next moment all my hopes had vanished. My uncle would surely not +forgive me. + +At dinner-time I took my place at table on his right hand in low +spirits, ate little, and said nothing. + +"It will come with the dessert," I thought. + +Rose looked at me, and I avoided meeting her eyes. As I had expected, +the dessert over, my uncle lit his pipe, raised his head, and then-- + +"Rose--come here!" + +Rose went to him. + +"Do you know what that fellow there asked me to do, yesterday?" + +I trembled like a leaf, and Rose did the same. + +[Illustration: "DO YOU LOVE HIM?"] + +"To give him your hand," he added. "Do you love him?" + +Rose cast down her eyes. + +"Very well," continued my uncle; "on this side, the case is complete. +Come here, you." + +I approached him. + +"Here I am, uncle," and, in a whisper. I added quickly: "Forgive me!" + +He burst into a hearty laugh. + +"Marry her, then, donkey--since you love her, and I give her to you!" + +"Ah!--uncle!" + +"Ah!--dear papa!" + +And Rose and I threw ourselves into his arms. + +"Very good! very good!" he cried, wiping his eyes. "Be happy, that's all +I ask." + +And, in turn, he whispered in my ear:-- + +"I should have given her to you all the same, you big goose; but--keep +the story of the helmet between us two!" + +I give you my word that I have never told it but to Rose, my dear little +wife. And, if ever you pass along the Rue des Claquettes, No. 53, at the +place of honour in the old shop, I'll show you my uncle's helmet, which +we would never sell. + + * * * * * + + + +_The Music of Nature._ + +BY A. T. CAMDEN PRATT. + + +II. + + +Reference was made at the close of the last article to the voice of the +dog, and his method of making his feelings and desires understood. It +is, of course, well known that this is an acquired habit, or +accomplishment. In a state of Nature the dog does not even bark; he has +acquired the art or knowledge from his companionship with man. Isaiah +compares the blind watchman of Israel to dogs, saying, "They are dumb; +they cannot bark." Again, to quote the argument of Dr. Gardiner: "The +dog indicates his different feelings by different tones." The following +is his yelp when his foot is trod upon. + +[Illustration] +[Illustration: DOG YELPING.] + +Haydn introduces the bark of a dog into the scherzo in his 38th +quartette. Indeed, the tones of the "voice" of the dog are so marked, +that more than any other of the voices of Nature they have been utilized +in music. The merest tyro in the study of dog language can readily +distinguish between the bark of joy--the "deep-mouthed welcome as we +draw near home," as Byron put it--and the angry snarl, the yelp of pain, +or the accents of fear. Indeed, according to an assertion in the +"Library of Entertaining Knowledge," the horse knows from the bark of a +dog when he may expect an attack on his heels. Gardiner suggests that it +would be worth while to study the language of the dog. Perhaps Professor +Garnier, when he has reduced the language of the monkey to "A, B, C," +might feel inclined to take up the matter. + +[Illustration] +[Illustration: THE OX.] + +Next to the dog there is no animal in which there is more variation of +sound than in oxen: "Their lowing, though rough and rude, is music to +the farmer's ear save one who moans the loss of her sportive young; with +wandering eye and anxious look she grieves the livelong day." It is +specially difficult in the case of oxen to suppose that they have a +language; but it is impossible to doubt that the variations of their +lowing are understood of one another, and serve to express their +feelings if not their thoughts. + +[Illustration] +[Illustration: COW LOWING.] + +In the matter of exclamations, one knows how readily these may be +imitated upon the violin, or in the case of the deeper or more guttural +sounds, on the violoncello. The natural effect is greatly aided by the +sliding of the finger along the note, especially in the case of the +lowing of cattle; but there are other exclamations that are readily +reduced to music. Gardiner gives one or two interesting cases, and the +common salutation, "How d'ye do?" may be instanced. It usually starts on +B natural, and the voice rising to D ends on C; whereas, the reply, +"Pretty well, thank you," begins on D, and falling to A, ends again on +D. After a few attempts on the piano, the reader will be able readily to +form these notes for himself. + +[Illustration] +[Illustration: HORSE NEIGHING.] + +The horse, on the other hand, is rarely heard, and, though having a +piercing whinny which passes through every semitone of the scale, it is +scarcely ever varied. + +[Illustration: THE CHIRP OF THE GRASSHOPPER.] + +The music of the insects has already been alluded to, and everyone will +agree with Gilbert White that "not undelightful is the ceaseless hum, to +him who musing walks at noon." The entomologist has laboured hard to +show us that the insect has no voice, and that the "drowsy hum" is made +by the wings; a fact which, being beyond all cavil, puts to the blush +the old-world story of Plutarch, who tells us that when Terpander was +playing upon the lyre, at the Olympic games, and had enraptured his +audience to the highest pitch of enthusiasm a string of his instrument +broke, and a _cicada_ or grasshopper perched on the bridge supplied by +its voice the loss of the string and saved the fame of the musician. To +this day in Surinam the Dutch call them lyre-players. If there is any +truth in the story, the grasshopper then had powers far in advance of +his degenerated descendants; for now the grasshopper--like the +cricket--has a chirp consisting of three notes in rhythm, always forming +a triplet in the key of B. + +[Illustration] +[Illustration: FLY BUZZING.] + +[Illustration] +[Illustration: DUCK.] + +Gardiner, on the authority of Dr. Primatt, states that, to produce the +sound it makes, the house-fly must make 320 vibrations of its wings in +a second; or nearly 20,000 if it continues on the wing a minute. The +sound is invariably on the note F in the first space. The music of a +duck's note is given in the annexed score. + +In conclusion, an article on the music of Nature would not be complete +without an allusion to the music of the winds and the storm. Admirers of +Beethoven will recall numerous passages that would serve as +illustrations. One particularly might be mentioned--the chorus in +"Judah" (Haydn), "The Lord devoureth them all," which is admirably +imitative of the reverberations of the cataract and the thundering of +mighty waters. The sounds at sea, ominous of shipwreck, will also occur +to the minds of some. At Land's End it is not uncommon for storms to be +heralded by weird sounds; and in the northern seas sailors, always a +superstitious race of people, used to be much alarmed by a singular +musical effect, which is now well known to be caused by nothing more +fearsome than a whale breathing. + +These instances might be still further multiplied, but enough have, +perhaps, been given to excite some general interest in "the _Music +of Nature_." + + * * * * * + + + +_Portraits of Celebrities at Different Times of Their Lives._ + + +SIR HENRY LOCH. + +BORN 1827. + + +Sir Henry Brougham Loch, G.C.M.G., K.C.B., whose name has recently been +so prominently before the public in connection with the disturbances in +Mashonaland, is Chief Commissioner at the Cape. In his diplomatic career +he was taken prisoner during the war with China; and, with Mr. Boulby, +the _Times_ correspondent, was carried about in a cage by his captors, +and exhibited to the natives. After his liberation he returned to +England, and was appointed Governor of the Isle of Man, and subsequently +Governor of Victoria; and, in 1889, was appointed to succeed Sir +Hercules Robinson as Chief Commissioner at the Cape. + +[Illustration: AGE 22. +_From a Painting._] + +[Illustration: AGE 39. +_From a Painting by G. Richmond, R.A._] + +[Illustration: PRESENT DAY. +_From a Photo. by Foster & Martin, Melbourne._] + + +MADAME BELLE COLE. + + +It was in Jubilee Year that the British public were first charmed by the +singing of this admirable American contralto. She sang in London, and +successive audiences were quick to confirm the judgments of Sir Joseph +Barnby and certain other critics who had heard her only in private. Her +advance to the front rank of English singers was exceedingly rapid, and +her position amongst us was long since made secure. Madame Cole has +taken part in nearly all the great musical events in this country during +the past four years. She has sung everywhere in London--with the Royal +Choral Society at the Albert Hall, at the Handel Festival at the Crystal +Palace, at the Ballad Concerts, at the Monday Popular Concerts, at Sir +Charles Halle's Concerts, and at Bristol, Chester, Leeds, Birmingham, +and other leading towns. As seems to have been the case with most +well-dowered musicians, Madame Cole's talent owes something to heredity. +Musical ability, greater or less, may at all events be traced back in +her family for a considerable period. Madame Cole's first distinct +success in public was gained with Mr. Theodore Thomas, during that +gentleman's first "grand transcontinental tour from ocean to ocean" +in 1883. + +[Illustration: AGE 8. +_From a Photograph._] + +[Illustration: AGE 20. +_From a Photo. by Naegeli, New York._] + +[Illustration: PRESENT DAY. +_From a Photo. by Walery, Regent Street._] + + +THE LORD BISHOP OF PETERBOROUGH. + +BORN 1843. + + +Professor the Rev. Mandell Creighton, M.A., was born at Carlisle, and +educated at Durham Grammar School and Merton College, Oxford. He was +ordained deacon in 1870 and priest in 1873, and in 1875 accepted the +living of Embleton, in Northumberland. In 1884 he was elected to the +newly founded professorship of Ecclesiastical History in the University +of Cambridge. In 1885 he was appointed by the Crown canon residentiary +of Worcester Cathedral. He is the author of several historical works: +"Primer of Roman History," 1875; "The Age of Elizabeth," 1876; etc. His +principal work is a "History of the Papacy During the Period of the +Reformation." He was appointed Bishop of Peterborough in 1891. + +[Illustration: AGE 17. +_From a Photograph._] + +[Illustration: AGE 23. +_From a Photo. by Wheeler & Day, Oxford._] + +[Illustration: AGE 48. +_From a Photo. by H.S. Mendelssohn, Newcastle._] + +[Illustration: PRESENT DAY. +_From a Photo. by Elliott & Fry._] + + +LORD WANTAGE. + +BORN 1832. + + +Robert James Loyd-Lindsay, K.C.B., V.C. is the eldest son of the late +Lieut.-General James Lindsay. He was educated at Eton, and at an early +age entered the Army. He served in the Guinea, 1854-5, part of the time +as _Aide-de-Camp_ to the Commander-in-Chief. At the battle of Alma, +amidst great disorder, he reformed the line and stood firm with the +colours. At Inkerman he distinguished himself by charging and repulsing +a strong body of Russians with a few men; for which distinctions he was +justly awarded the Victoria Cross. Lord Wantage was Equerry to the +Prince of Wales, 1858-9; and has been Extra Equerry to His Royal +Highness since 1874. He is also the Lord Lieutenant and a County +Councillor of Berkshire. He married, in 1858, Harriet Sarah, only child +of the first Baron Overstone. + +[Illustration: AGE 17. +_From a Drawing._] + +[Illustration: AGE 32. +_From a Photograph._] + +[Illustration: AGE 41. +_From a Photograph by Chemar Freres, Brussels._] + +[Illustration: AGE 50. +_From a Painting by W. Onless, R.M._] + +[Illustration: PRESENT DAY. +_From a Photograph by W. & A. H. Fry, Brighton._] + + +SIR RICHARD TEMPLE, BART, M.P. + +BORN 1826. + + +Sir Richard Temple, Bart., G.C.S.I., M.P., D.C.L.(Oxon), LL.D. (Cantab), +of The Nash, Kempsey, near Worcester, entered the third class of the +Bengal Civil Service in 1846. He was Secretary to Sir John Lawrence in +the Punjab, and eventually was appointed Chief Commissioner of the +Central Provinces, and the Political Resident at Hyderabad. He was +Foreign Secretary to the Governor-General, and Finance Minister of +India, from 1868 to 1874. In January, 1874, he was appointed to +superintend the relief operations in the famine-stricken districts of +Bengal. He became Lieutenant-Governor of Bengal in 1875; was created a +Baronet in August, 1876; and was appointed Governor of the Presidency of +Bombay in January, 1877, which office he held till March, 1880. He sits +for the Kingston Division of Surrey. + +[Illustration: AGE 20. +_From a Painting._] + +[Illustration: AGE 30. +_From a Photo. by Southwell Brothers, Baker Street, London._] + +[Illustration: AGE 42. +_From a Photo. by Bourne & Shepherd._] + +[Illustration: PRESENT DAY. +_From a Photo. by Elliott & Fry._] + + * * * * * + + + +_A Terrible New Year's Eve._ + +BY KATHLEEN HUDDLESTON. + + +In a little Belgian village not many miles from Brussels the winter sun +shone brightly. It shone through the quaint old windows of a little, +red-tiled cottage, and on the figure of a girl who stood in the centre +of the kitchen reading a long, closely written letter. Over the blazing +fire, where the "pot au feu" was simmering, bent an old woman, and the +girl's voice came joyously to her as she stirred the savoury mess. + +[Illustration: "MY AUNT, PAUL HAS SENT FOR ME."] + +"My aunt, Paul has sent for me. At last he has got permanent work. It is +nothing very great at present, but it may lead to better things, and the +pay is enough, with what he has saved, to enable him to rent a little +'appartement.' If I can, he wants me, with our little Pierre, to catch +the coach at 'Les Trois Freres' to-morrow. We should then reach Brussels +by night and spend our New Year together." + +As Babette spoke, her cheeks all flushed with hope and joy, the eyes of +both the women rested on a cradle that stood in the room. In this, baby +Pierre, only a twelvemonth old, lay sleeping peacefully. + +Then said the old woman, sadly, "I shall miss you, dearest, and the baby +too. Still, it is only right you should go. Perhaps in the summer you +may return for a bit. Time passes quickly. A year ago you were weeping +over Paul's departure; and now, behold, you are going to join him, and +lay in his arms the son he has never seen." + +Babette nodded. She was between tears and smiles. There was grief, true +and deep, at leaving the dear old aunt, who had been so good to her and +to her child. There was joy at the thought of seeing again the brave +young husband whom she had wedded in the little village church two years +before, and from whom the parting had been so bitter, when he left her, +just before the birth of their baby boy, to seek work in the +Belgian capital. + +But there was no time to waste. After the simple mid-day meal there were +many things to be done, and all through the short winter day they were +busy. There was a bundle of warm wraps to be put together for Babette to +take with her. Her little trunk, with Pierre's cradle, and some odds and +ends of furniture, would follow in a few days, when her aunt had +collected and packed them all. Her little store of money was counted +over. Alas! it was very slender. She must travel quickly and cheaply if +it was to last her till she reached Brussels. + +"Jean's cart will take you as far as 'Les Trois Freres,'" said the old +lady, cheerfully, after finding that counting the little heap of francs +and half-francs over and over did not increase them. "That will save +something. You can catch the coach that stops there at two, and by six +you will be in Brussels. I pray the little one may not take cold." + +Babette agreed to all her aunt suggested. Jean was a farmer of the +village; well-to-do and good-natured. She knew he would gladly give her +a seat in his waggon, which was going next day to "Les Trois Freres," an +inn six miles from the village. The coach for Brussels stopped there +twice a week, and when once she had taken her place in it, the worst of +her journey would be over. + +They went to rest early that night, and by eleven next morning the last +good-bye had been said. Pretty Babette was seated by the side of Farmer +Jean, with her baby boy, wrapped up in numerous shawls, clasped tightly +to her, and the great Flemish horses were plodding, slowly but surely, +towards "Les Trois Freres". + +The day was not as bright as the preceding one. Snow had fallen during +the night, and the sky looked heavy, as though there were more to come. +Babette shivered, in spite of her long, warm cloak. The roads were +freezing hard, but they managed to proceed for a mile or two, and then +suddenly there came a sway and a lurch, for one of the horses had +slipped and fallen on the snowy road, and the other was trying to free +himself from his struggling companion by frantic kicks and plunges. + +Farmer Jean had a man with him, and between them they got the poor +animal up, while Babette stood in the cold highway, her baby peeping +wonderingly from the folds of her cloak. + +The horse was bruised and cut about the knees, but otherwise unhurt, so +the men resumed their places; Babette climbed back to hers, and the +heavy cart went jolting on. The farmer cracked his whip, and whenever +the road grew worse he or his man got down and led the horses. In spite +of this, their progress grew slower and slower. + +"I don't like to say so," said the master, "but we've two more miles to +go, and it is past one o'clock now. My girl, if the coach is gone, I'll +get you back and drive you in again next time it passes." + +But Babette would not hear of this. Not to see Paul by nightfall! Not to +be clasped in his arms, she and little Pierre together, in one warm +embrace! Not to spend New Year's Day with him! No! she would not think +of it. And yet when, more than an hour later, they rolled into the yard +of "Les Trois Freres," there was no sign of the Brussels coach. It had +started half an hour before. "Les Trois Freres" was a quiet, homely inn, +little used excepting when the coach stopped there. Babette, pale and +trembling, got down and ran into the bar, where the landlord stood +smiling behind a row of bright pewter taps. + +"Am I too late for the coach?" she cried. "Has it gone?" And then, when +the man told her she was indeed too late, all strength and energy left +her, and she sank sobbing on the wooden bench by the door. + +There were two other men in the room, who looked at her curiously; she +was such a pretty girl, even in the midst of her grief. One was an old +pedlar, with his well-filled pack on the floor beside him. He had a +pleasant, homely face, and thin, bent figure. The other was a +middle-sized, powerful fellow, clean shaven and beetle-browed, and +dressed in shabby, ill-fitting garments. It was hard to tell what his +rank in life might be. He stared once again at Babette, and then handed +his glass to the host to be re-filled. The pedlar was the first to break +the silence. + +[Illustration: "'CHEER UP, MY LASS', HE SAID KINDLY."] + +"Cheer up, my lass," he said, kindly; "I too have missed the coach, and +I too must reach Brussels to-night. I have two thousand francs in notes +and gold in my pocketbook, which are the savings of a lifetime, and I am +going to pay them into the bank tomorrow. Then I shall give up my trade +and start a little shop." + +"I would not talk too much about them in the meantime, friend. In some +countries it might be dangerous, but we are honest in Belgium." + +It was the other man who spoke, and his voice, though rough, was not +unpleasant. He paid the landlord, caught up his stick, and with a curt +"Good-day" passed out of "Les Trois Freres." + +"He, also, perhaps, is going to Brussels. He means to walk, and if he, +why not I?" said the pedlar. He had come in cold and tired, and the +landlord's good ale had made him slightly loquacious. "Yes, I shall try +and walk. The roads are better walking than driving. It is not so very +many miles, and most likely I shall be overtaken by some cart going the +same way." And he rose as he spoke. + +Babette rose also and caught him eagerly by the hand. "I will walk with +you," she cried. "I am strong, well shod, and the fastest walker in our +village. We can get to Brussels before dark, in spite of my having my +boy to carry. Oh! bless you for thinking of it, for now I shall see Paul +before the year is out." + +Nor would she be dissuaded. Farmer Jean came in and said something about +snow. "The sky was darkening for it already." But Babette was firm. The +landlord's buxom wife came forth from an inner room and offered her a +lodging for the night, and then, when she could not persuade her, helped +her to wrap the baby up afresh, and finally made her place in her pocket +a tiny flask of brandy, "in case," she said, "the snow should +overtake them." + +So they started. Babette had spoken the truth when she called herself a +good walker. She was but twenty, and was both slight and active. The +pedlar too, in spite of his bent form, got over the ground quickly. They +had put four or five good miles between themselves and "Les Trois +Freres" when the snow began to fall. It came down steadily in thick, +heavy flakes. Babette drew her cloak yet closer round her boy and they +plodded on, but walking became more and more difficult, and they grew +both weary and cold. Suddenly, by the roadside, several yards ahead, +they saw a man's figure. He was coming to meet them, and drew near +rapidly, and then they recognised their friend in the shabby brown +clothes, who had left the inn so shortly before them. + +"I saw you coming," he explained, "so came to meet you. Madame"--with a +bow to Babette, polite for one so uncouth looking--"can go no further +to-night; the storm will not pass off yet. I live not far from here with +my mother and brothers, and if madame likes, we can all take shelter +under my humble roof. It is but a poor place, but you will be welcome, +and doubtless we can find two spare beds." + +They could do nothing but thank him and accept his offer. Even Babette +acknowledged that all hope of reaching Brussels was now over. The New +Year would have dawned before she and her husband met. + +The wind had risen and the snow, half turned to sleet, was now beating +furiously into their faces. It was all they could do to keep their feet. +They struggled on after their guide as best they could, till he turned +out of the high road into a lane; and thankful were they when he +stopped, and, pushing open a gate that creaked on rusty hinges, led them +up a narrow, gravelled pathway to a small, bare house, flanked on either +side by some dreary bushes of evergreens. + +In answer to his peremptory knock, the door was opened by a man +slighter and shorter than himself, but sufficiently like him to be known +as his brother, and the travellers staggered in--the door, with a heavy +crash, blowing to behind them. + +Perhaps now for the first time it really struck Babette that she had +been headstrong in persisting in her journey, and in trusting herself +and child to the mercy of utter strangers so far from home. The same +thought passed through the old pedlar's mind, but it was too late to +retreat, so they silently followed their new host and his brother. They +went down a passage and into a room, half kitchen, half parlour, snugly +and even comfortably furnished. + +[Illustration: "A MAN AND A WOMAN SAT OVER THE FIRE."] + +Heavy wooden shutters dulled the noise of the boisterous gale outside. A +thick red curtain hung over the door, and a cheery log fire burnt in the +stove. A man and woman sat over it; the man, a tall, repulsive-looking +creature, with unkempt hair and matted beard, his age apparently about +fifty. The woman looked seventy or more. She too had once been tall, but +now old age gave her a withered, witch-like appearance, in spite of her +great height. She was dressed in limp, faded garments, with a tattered +shawl crossed over her chest, and had a scared, miserable look in her +bleared old eyes. There were a few words of explanation from the man who +had come home, and then, in gruff but not unkindly tones, he bade +Babette be seated, and told his mother to get some supper speedily. She +spread a coarse cloth on the wooden table, and when all was ready, +lifted a large black saucepan from the stove and turned out a smoking, +savoury-looking stew. The youngest son produced a bottle containing the +thin acid wine of the country, and another of spirits. As he set them on +the table, Babette noticed that across one of his hands, which were much +smaller and whiter than those of his brothers, there ran a dull red scar +that looked as if he had had a bad cut there. Then they all sat down, +excepting the old mother, who busied herself in waiting on them. + +"It's the last good meal you'll get for some time, I'm thinking," she +croaked, as she watched them devouring their supper, "unless you turn to +and find more work than you've done lately. The landlord called for his +rent again to-day and swore he would wait no longer, but turn us out if +we did not pay in three days' time." + +"Curse him!" muttered the man who had brought the strangers in, half +under his breath; then aloud he added, "Shut up, good mother: remember, +we have visitors; and one a man of property, who will hardly sympathize +with our poverty." + +Babette looked up as he spoke, and intercepted a glance so strange and +savage that passed between the brothers and then rested on her friend +the pedlar, that involuntarily she shuddered and turned pale. + +The old man, however, did not appear to notice anything unsatisfactory +in the appearance or manners of his hosts. He had eaten to his liking, +and had allowed the grim-looking eldest brother to fill his glass again +and again with "Genievre" till his face began to flush, and his eyes +grew dazed and heavy. Babette felt more and more uneasy. Oh! to be back +at "Les Trois Freres" again, or even out in the snowy road! Anything +would be better than sitting in this lonely house, with those three +forbidding faces glaring on her. She rose hastily and caught up her +sleeping child. "I am very tired, good people," she said, timidly, "and +I must start betimes in the morning. If I might go to bed now, I should +be so thankful." + +In answer to her request, the old woman lighted a candle, and Babette +followed her upstairs into a small, low chamber. There was no +superfluous furniture in it, but the little bed looked clean and +inviting, and the curtains that hung in front of the tiny window were +made of light, fresh-looking chintz. Facing the bed was a door, leading +apparently into another room. Babette wondered if it was the one her +friend the pedlar was to occupy, but she was not long left in doubt. The +old woman wished her good-night and left her, and Babette, after hushing +her boy to sleep again, had just sunk wearily into the one chair the +room boasted, when she heard a slow, heavy step ascending, and knew the +pedlar was coming to bed. He shut the outer door behind him, and began +arranging his pack. + +Babette could hear the pedlar moving backwards and forwards with +uncertain, tired footsteps. There was no sound below, even the wind was +hushed. She drew aside the curtains and looked out, and saw that the +snow had ceased to fall, and lay thick and white on the ground. + +Then there came a sudden presentiment upon her. A sense of danger, vague +and undefined, seemed to surround her. It was all the more terrible on +account of its vagueness. She did not know what she feared, yet the +terror of something horrible was strong upon her. + +She slipped off her boots, and stole gently up to the door that divided +her room from the pedlar's. + +"Sir," she whispered, "you are very, very tired, and will sleep heavily. +I am so anxious, I don't know why; but forgive me and do trust me. Push +your pocket-book that contains your money under the door. See--it does +not fit tight! We don't know who the people of the house are: they may +try to rob you. I will tie it up inside my baby's shawls, and will give +it back to you as soon as we are out of this place. Oh, would to God +that we had never entered it! Your money will be safe with me, and they +will never think of looking for it here. Will you give it me?" + +In answer to her pleadings, a shabby little leather book was pushed into +her room. As she picked it up and proceeded to hide it securely away +beneath the baby's many wrappings, the pedlar said, in a voice rendered +hoarse and indistinct by the spirits he had partaken of in such +unaccustomed quantities: "Here, my dear, take it. It will, I know, be +safe with you. I feel so tired that I don't think a cannon would wake me +to-night once I get to sleep." He groped his way to his bed, and flung +himself down on it, dressed as he was. Soon Babette heard him snoring +loudly and regularly, and then she took off her clothes, and rolling her +cloak around her, lay down by the side of her child. + +In after years, when she looked on that awful time, she often wondered +how, feeling as she did that she was surrounded by so many unknown +perils, she had ever closed her eyes. Perhaps the long walk and the +excitement she had undergone accounted for the profound sleep into which +she fell almost immediately, and from which she was aroused in the dead +of night by a noise in the next room. It was neither snore nor cry. It +was more like a long, shuddering gurgle, and then--silence! Frightful, +terrible silence, broken at last by the sound of stealthy footsteps and +hushed voices. Babette sunk down on her pillow again, her baby clutched +in her arms. A voiceless prayer went up to Heaven for the child's safety +and her own, for already she heard them approaching her door, and made +sure her last hour was come. Through nearly closed eyelids she watched +two of the men enter; the one who had brought them to the house and his +elder brother. They were muttering curses, low but deep. + +"To have risked so much for nothing!" whispered one. "Can she have it, +or was the old fool jesting with us?" + +"It's a jest that has cost him dear," answered the other, as he watched +his brother search the girl's clothes and then slip his murderous hands +beneath her pillow. He withdrew them empty. + +"Shall we settle her?" he asked, "or let her go? Is it not best to be +on the safe side?" + +But the smooth-shaven one said, decisively: "Let her alone; we have +enough to answer for. See, she is sound asleep, and if not, it will be +easy to find out before she reaches Brussels how much she knows. Let +her be." + +Babette lay like a log, stirring neither hand nor foot. In that awful +moment, when her life or death was trembling in the balance, her mother +love, that divine instinct implanted in every woman's breast, came to +her and saved her. She knew that if she moved her baby's life was +gone--her own she hardly cared about just then. But those little limbs +that were nestling so soft and warm against her own, and that little +flaxen head that was cuddled against her arm, for their sake she +was brave. + +[Illustration: "SHE LAY MOTIONLESS"] + +So she lay motionless and listened, fearing that the men would hear even +the quick, heavy throbs of her heart. But they did not. They searched +quickly and systematically amongst all her clothing. They felt under her +pillow again, but never thought of looking at the shawls of the baby who +lay so peacefully by her side; and then at last they crept away and +closed the door gently behind them. + +The room was in utter darkness. For ages, as it seemed, Babette lay +there, afraid to stir, and listening vainly for some sound; then she sat +up, all white and trembling. + +"My God!" she thought. "What awful thing has happened? Oh, give me +strength and courage, for my baby's sake." + +As an inspiration, there came to her the thought of the little bottle +that the good-natured landlady of "Les Trois Freres" had given her. She +felt in the pocket of her dress and drew it out, taking a long, deep +draught of the fiery spirit. She had been on the verge of fainting, +though she knew it not, and the brandy put new life into her. She +listened for a long time and then gently--very gently--she crept out of +bed and drew aside the little curtain from the window. + +Perhaps a wild idea of escaping into the cold, dark night outside, aided +by a sheet or blanket, flashed through her brain. If so, she soon +realized that it would not be practicable. The window was not high, but +it was small, and divided by thick, old-fashioned bars of iron. To get +out was impossible. + +[Illustration: "SHE STOOD CONSIDERING."] + +As she stood considering, a thin, flickering moonbeam crept in and +partially lighted up the room. It fell on to the door that led into the +pedlar's chamber, and showed her something dark and slimy that was +flowing slowly--slowly from under it into her room. She did not cry out +or fall senseless. She bent down and put her hand into it, and saw that +it was blood--her poor old friend's life-blood--for she knew now beyond +all doubt that he had been murdered for the sake of his supposed wealth. + +She knew she was helpless till morning. To get out of the house was +impossible, for to do so she must pass down the stairs and through the +room below, where probably they were either sleeping or watching. If she +had courage and could only let them think she knew and suspected +nothing, she might still escape. Surely they would not dare to murder +her also, for they knew her husband would be expecting her next day, and +would be looking for her if she did not come. + +With another prayer, this time uttered shiveringly, for the soul of the +pedlar, she nerved herself to get into bed again, and lay there till +morning with her child against her heart; gazing with staring, sleepless +eyes at the door which divided her from that awful room; keeping surely +the most terrible vigil that ever woman kept. + +At last the morning dawned, clear and bright. A frost had set in, and +the roads were clean and hard, the sky was blue. If it had not been for +that ghastly stain that had crept across the far end of her room, she +might almost have thought that the events of the night had been but a +fearful dream. + +Her child awoke, fresh and smiling, and she could hear them stirring in +the living room below. She felt that now, indeed, the hardest part of +her task was still before her. On a little table by the side of her bed +there was a small, cracked looking-glass. When she was dressed she +looked into it and saw that it reflected a face death-like in its +pallor, with burning lips and feverish eyes. She took the bottle from +her pocket again and gulped down the rest of its contents. It sent a +flush into her cheeks and steadied the sick trembling that was shaking +her through and through. + +Without stopping to think or look round again, she took up her boy and +descended the stairs, and entered the room where they had supped on the +previous night. + +The old woman was its sole occupant now. She was bending over the fire +frying something for breakfast, and the table in the centre of the room +was prepared for the meal. She looked if possible more untidy and +slovenly than when Babette had last seen her, and greeted the girl with +a feeble smile. + +Then she poured her out a cup of coffee, and Babette had sat down and +begun to sip it (for she knew she must make a pretence of breakfasting) +when the eldest son came in. There was a very uneasy look upon his +evil-looking face. + +"How are you?" he asked, sullenly, as he sat down opposite her. "I hope, +rested. Did you sleep well?" + +Never afterwards did she know how she found courage to answer him as she +did, quietly and firmly:-- + +"Yes, very well, thank you. But my friend--he must have over-slept +himself--why is he not down?" + +The old woman dropped a plate with a clatter and turned round. The man +looked Babette straight in the face as he replied, and she met his +glance with one just as steady. + +"The pedlar is gone," he said, as he sugared his coffee carefully. "He +paid his bill and was off before seven. You will probably see him in +Brussels, for he was going there." + +"Yes," repeated Babette, "I shall very likely meet him in Brussels, but +I don't even know his name. And I, too, good people, ought to be +starting. The morning is fine, and walking will be easy." She drank down +her coffee as she spoke and rose. "I cannot eat," she exclaimed, seeing +that they both looked suspiciously at the thick slice of currant-bread, +that lay untouched on her plate. "I think I am excited at the thought of +seeing my husband again. It seems so long since we parted, and now we +shall meet so soon." + +In her own ears her voice sounded far away and unnatural, but they did +not seem to notice anything strange in her. The old woman, with a meek +"Thank you," took the humble payment she tendered, and they let her go; +only the big, burly eldest son stood at the door and watched her as she +went slowly down the little pathway and out through the creaking gate +into the snowy road. She only looked back once, and then she saw that a +dingy signboard hung in front of the house. The picture of what was +meant for a cow, and had once been white, was depicted on it, and the +words "A la Vache Blanche" were clumsily painted underneath. So the +house was an inn, evidently, and as Babette read the words she dimly +remembered having heard, long ago, that there was an inn of that name +not far from Brussels. It was kept by some people named Marac, whose +characters were anything but good, and who had been implicated in +several robberies that had taken place some years before, although the +utmost efforts of the police had failed to trace any crime directly +home to them. + +"Oh, heavens! Why did I not see that sign last night?" the girl thought, +despairingly, as she trudged along the hard, frosty road. "It would have +saved his life and perhaps my reason." + +She sped along faster and faster, for the house was now quite out of +sight. In the distance the way began to wind up-hill, and a stunted, +leafless wood straggled along one side of the highway. Babette was just +considering whether going through it would shorten her journey, when a +woman, dressed in the ordinary peasant costume of the country, emerged +from it and came towards her with quick, firm steps. She was tall and +rather masculine looking. The black Flemish cloak she wore hung round +her in straight, thick folds. She carried a market basket on one arm; a +neat white cloth concealing the eggs and butter that probably lay +underneath. + +"Good-day," she said, in thick, guttural tones, as she reached Babette. +"Are you on the way to Brussels?" + +Babette made way for her to pass, somewhat shyly. + +"Yes," she said, "and I am in haste; but the roads are heavy and I have +my baby to carry." + +As she answered, her eyes happened to fall on the stranger's right hand, +which was ungloved and clasping the basket. And as she looked her heart +seemed suddenly to quiver and stand still, for across that strong right +hand there ran a deep red scar, precisely similar to the one she had +noticed on the previous night on the hand of the youngest brother at the +"Vache Blanche." + +It did not take long for the whole horrible truth to flash across her. +Doubtless they had felt insecure after their terrible deed, and the +youngest Marac had been dispatched after her, disguised as a woman, with +instructions to way-lay her by some shorter cut, in order to find out if +she was really ignorant of the frightful way in which the pedlar had met +his untimely end. + +As these thoughts chased each other through her mind, she felt as if her +great terror was slowly blanching her face, and her limbs began to +tremble till she could hardly drag herself over the ground. But her +baby's warm little heart, beating so closely against her own, once more +gave her strength. She dropped her eyes so that she might no longer see +that awful hand, and tottered on by the new-comer's side, striving to +imagine that it was indeed only a harmless peasant woman who was walking +by her and trying to remember that every step was bringing her nearer to +Brussels and protection. Her companion glanced at her curiously, and +Babette shivered, for she fancied she saw suspicion in the look. + +"You seem tired." she, or rather he, said, always speaking in the same +low, thick tones. "Brussels is barely two miles off, and it is yet +early, but perhaps you have not rested well. Where did you sleep?" + +Too well did the girl know why that question was asked her, and now that +her first sickening horror was over, her brave spirit nerved itself +once more. + +"I was journeying with a friend yesterday," she replied, "when the +snow-storm overtook us. Luckily we met a man whose home lay in our road. +He was very good, and took us there and gave us supper and beds." + +The stranger laughed. + +"A good Samaritan, indeed! And your friend? Where is he now? Did he find +his hosts so hospitable that he was unable to tear himself away?" + +"No," said Babette, gently, "he started early; before I came down he was +far on his road. They were very good to me, and gave me coffee before I +left. I am a poor woman, and could do but little to repay them. The two +francs I gave them were almost my last." + +This speech, uttered in such a soft, even voice--for Babette had +schooled herself well by now--seemed to satisfy her companion, and they +walked on side by side in silence for what seemed to the poor girl the +longest hour she had ever passed. + +At last, in the far distance there rose the spires and roofs of +Brussels. The chiming of church bells came gaily towards them through +the frosty air, and Babette knew that her terrible journey was well-nigh +ended. At the entrance of the town the stranger stopped. + +[Illustration: "GOOD-BYE."] + +"Good-bye," she said, curtly; "I am late for the market, and must sell +my eggs quickly or shall not get my price." + +[Illustration: "SHE SANK DOWN IN A HEAVY, DEATH-LIKE SWOON."] + +She turned down a side street and disappeared, and Babette felt her +strength and mind both failing her now that she was out of danger. She +staggered weakly into a big, dim church, by the door of which the +parting happened to have taken place. Here she sank down in a heavy, +death-like swoon in front of one of the side altars, with her baby +wailing fretfully at her breast. When she came to herself again she was +seated in the sacristy, and her hair and face were wet with the water +they had flung over her. By her side stood a black-robed, kindly-faced +cure and two or three women, who were trying to force some wine down her +throat. By degrees her strength came back, and she raised herself and +asked piteously for her child. Then, when he was in her arms, she told +her story. + +Wonder, horror, and bewilderment all dawned in turns on her hearers' +countenances, and it was not until she unpinned her baby's shawls and +handed the shabby pocket-book to the priest that they were quite certain +they had not to deal with some poor, wandering lunatic. But when the +money had been looked at and replaced, then, indeed, they saw the +necessity for prompt action. The cure caught up his hat, and, after +whispering a few words to the women, hurried out of the sacristy. + +"He is gone to the police," said one. "Poor child"--laying her hand +caressingly on the girl's damp hair--"what hast thou not passed through! +Mercifully the mass was not over, so we found thee at once. Lie still +and rest. Give me but thy husband's name and address, and in one little +half-hour he shall be by thy side." + +And so he was, and then, when she had been examined by the chief of the +police and sobbed out her story all over again, from the shelter of +Paul's broad arms, she felt safe at last. She went peacefully home with +her husband, and after a good night's rest in the little rooms he had +taken for her, she was able to listen calmly when told next day of the +capture of the whole Marac family. They had been taken red-handed in +their guilt, for had not the pedlar's body been found in a disused +cellar under their house? + +He was brought to Brussels to be buried, but his name was never known, +and his money was never claimed. Probably, as he had told Babette, he +had been a friendless old man, wandering alone from place to place. + +The police were generous. Half his money was given to the poor and the +rest was handed to Babette, and helped to furnish her new home. A simple +stone cross now marks the unknown pedlar's grave: but flowers bloom +there abundantly, and though nameless, he is not forgotten. Many a +prayer is uttered for him both by Babette and her children, for the +memory of that terrible New Year's Eve will never fade from her mind. + + * * * * * + + + +_Personal Reminiscences of Sir Andrew Clark._ + +BY E. H. PITCAIRN. + + +[Illustration: SIR ANDREW CLARK.] + +With a heartfelt pang, hundreds read in an evening paper on October 20th +of the serious illness of Sir Andrew Clark, so truly spoken of by George +Eliot as "the beloved physician." Only the previous day he had presided +at the Annual Harveian Oration as President of the College of +Physicians. + +He had more than one warning by severe attacks of illness, and by the +recurrence of very painful symptoms, that he was over-taxing his +strength, but they were unheeded. A patient once told him he had a +horror of having a fit. "Put it away," said Sir Andrew; "I always do." +There was only one person to whose fatigue and exhaustion he was +indifferent that was himself. + +It is said that he always hoped to die in his carriage or +consulting-room, and it was in the latter, while talking with a lady +(the Hon. Miss Boscawen) about some charity, that he was seized with the +illness which ended so fatally. In his case it is no morbid curiosity +which makes thousands interested in every detail concerning him. + +On one day as many as six hundred people, several of whom were quite +poor patients, called to ask how he was, and daily inquiries from all +parts, including the Royal Family were a proof how much he was +respected. Very peacefully, on Monday, November 6th, about five o'clock, +he passed away, and on the following Saturday, after a service at +Westminster Abbey, he was buried at Essendon, near Camfield, the +property he had so lately bought and where he spent his last holiday. +The world has already been told how the English nation showed their +respect for the President of the College of Physicians, and in him the +profession he so dearly loved was honoured. + +What was the reason of this demonstration of respect? Because +individuals seem to have felt a sense of irreparable _loss_. Very many +have the idea that there are few others with his gifts who would respond +in the same way to their demand for sympathy and help; for Sir Andrew's +interest in each patient was real. There was an attractive force about +him, difficult to describe, and which only those who knew him could +understand, for he was nothing if not original. It is impossible in this +brief sketch to give an adequate portrait of a great personality and to +tell the story of his life's work. I shall but try to mention some of +his distinctive qualities and characteristics, illustrated by a few +facts. Two or three real incidents sometimes give a better idea of a +man's character than pages of generalities. + +[Illustration: THE GRAVE IN ESSENDON CHURCHYARD. +_From a Photo. by Mavor & Meredith._] + +Sir Andrew was born at Aberdeen in October, 1826. His father died when +he was seven years old, and his mother at his birth. To the end of his +life he regretted never having known a mother's love. His childhood, +spent with two uncles, does not seem to have been very happy, and he had +no brother or sister. He was educated at Aberdeen and Edinburgh, and at +the former place took his degree. + +As a young man he gained first medals in anatomy, physiology, chemistry, +botany, materia medica, surgery, pathology, and practice of physic. + +At twenty-two, in very delicate health, he entered the Royal Navy as +assistant-surgeon, and was appointed to the hospital at Haslar. His +subsequent medical career is pretty generally known. He obtained almost +every possible honour, culminating in the Presidency of the College of +Physicians for the lengthy term of six years. + +Sir Andrew was devoted to the College. He made an excellent President, +and a dignified, courteous, and just chairman. His successor will find +it no easy task to fill his place. + +He took an intense interest in all that concerned the welfare of the +College, and gave many proofs of his affection, one of the last being a +donation of L500 last year towards its redecoration. Not a great many +laymen know the College by sight. It is a corner building in Trafalgar +Square, the entrance facing Whitcomb Street. The meetings of the Fellows +are held in the magnificent library, lined with 60,000 volumes, chiefly +classics. Opening out of the library is the Censors' room, panelled with +old oak, and hung with portraits of former Presidents, chiefly by old +masters. At an examination the President sits at the end of the table +with his back to the fireplace, the Registrar (Dr. Liveing) opposite, +and the Censors on either side. In front of the President is a cushion +with the Caduceus, the Mace, and the Golden Cane. It was in the library +that Sir Andrew presided at the Harveian Oration the day before he was +taken ill. + +Sir Andrew could not be judged of by the surface. As Sir Joseph Phayres +truly says: "I have known him intimately, and the more I knew him the +more I respected and admired him." Those who knew him best loved him +best. One has only to read how one leading man after another writes of +him with enthusiastic appreciation (in the _Medical Journal_) to learn +what his colleagues thought of his medical skill and personal character. + +A bishop recently spoke of him as the truthful doctor: and a young girl, +who from a small child had stayed with him, told me he would always +correct himself if he had told an anecdote the least inaccurately; and +one day this summer when walking round their garden with him she said +the caterpillars had eaten all their gooseberry trees; "I mean the +gooseberry _leaves_," she added. Sir Andrew immediately said, "I am glad +you are particular to say what is exactly true"; but, she added, there +was always _something_ to remember in everything he said. With regard to +another point, a clergyman who knew Sir Andrew very intimately once told +me that "No man of this century had a more keenly religious mind; he was +so saturated with thoughts of God and so convinced that God had spoken +to man. He was intensely religious, with a profound sense of the +supernatural; he certainly was a great example to very busy men in the +way he always managed to find time for church, and even when called away +to a distance he would, if possible, go to a church near where he +happened to be." In addition to these qualities, he was very just, +sympathetic, and generous. + +[Illustration: CAMFIELD HOUSE, ESSENDON. +_From a Photo. by Mavor & Meredith._] + +I have come across many friends who knew him well, and it is interesting +to note that the same cardinal points seem to have struck everyone as +the key-notes of his life. In almost identical words each one speaks of +his strong faith, his strict veracity, and his intense devotion to duty. +One of his old friends said to me the other day: "_Nothing_ would tempt +Clark away from what he thought right; his conscientiousness was +unbounded." + +His love of metaphysics, combined with a very high motive, made him +naturally interested in the _whole_ man--body, mind, and spirit. To +quote the words of a well-known bishop: "It was his intrepid honesty +which was so valuable a quality. In Sir Andrew Clark men felt that he +wished to do them good, and to do them the best good, by making men +of them." + +[Illustration: SIR ANDREW CLARK'S HOUSE IN CAVENDISH SQUARE. +_From a Photograph by Mavor & Meredith._] + +The bishop told me a characteristic anecdote illustrating this: "A +clergyman complained to him of feeling low and depressed, unable to face +his work, and tempted to rely on stimulants. Sir Andrew saw that the +position was a perilous one, and that it was a crisis in the man's life. +He dealt with the case, and forbade resort to stimulants, when the +patient declared that he would be unequal to his work and ready to sink. +'Then,' said Sir Andrew, 'sink like a man!'" This is but one of many +incidents showing his marvellous power in restraining his patients and +raising them to a higher moral level. The writer could tell a far more +wonderful story of the saving of a drunkard, body and soul, but it is +too touching and sacred for publication. At the top of the wall of that +well-known consulting-room (in which Sir Andrew is said to have seen +10,000 patients annually), immediately facing the chair where he always +sat, are the words: "Glory to God." + +[Illustration: CENSORS' ROOM--COLLEGE OF PHYSICIANS. +_From a Photo. by Mavor & Meredith_.] + +With regard to his profession he was an enthusiast. He termed medicine +"the metropolis of the kingdom of knowledge," and in one of his +addresses to students, said: "You have chosen one of the noblest, the +most important, and the most interesting of professions, but also the +most arduous and the most self-denying, involving the largest sacrifices +and the fewest rewards. He who is not prepared to find in its +cultivation and exercise his chief recompense, has mistaken his calling +and should retrace his steps." + +He had an ideal, and he did his utmost to live up to it. His words in +many instances did as much good as his medicine. + +To explain what I mean I cannot do better than quote part of a letter +received since Sir Andrew's death, from a delicate, hardworking +clergyman, whom I have known some years. After speaking of Sir Andrew's +painstaking kindness, "never seeming the least hurried," he says: "He +had a wonderful way of inspiring one with confidence and readiness to +face one's troubles. I remember his saying once, 'It is wonderful how we +get _accustomed_ to our troubles,' and at another time, while +encouraging me to go on with work--reading for Orders: 'If one is to +die, it is better to die doing something, than doing nothing.' I have +often found that a help when feeling done-up and useless. In the old +days when people used to go and see him without an appointment, I have +often sat for hours in his dining-room, feeling so ill that I felt as if +I should die before I saw him, but after having seen him I felt as if I +had got a new lease of life. I was not at all hypochondriacal or +fanciful, I think, but that was the moral effect of an interview with +him. I believe he revolutionized the treatment of cases like mine, and +that he, to a certain extent, experimented on me; at any rate, he +treated me on philosophical principles, and told me often" (he went to +him for twenty years) "that I had become much stronger than he had +expected. He said to me several times: 'You are a wonderful man; you +have saved many lives.'" + +[Illustration: ENTRANCE HALL--COLLEGE OF PHYSICIANS. +_From a Photo. by Mavor & Meredith_] + +This my correspondent understood to mean the experiments had been +successful. + +"He once said that if I had died at that time, there was not a doctor in +London would have approved of his treatment. He gave a description of my +case some years ago, in a lecture I think at Brighton--but of course +without the name. The particular weakness was valvular disease of the +heart, the consequence of rheumatic fever, and this treatment was +founded on the principle that Nature always works towards compensation. +He told me many years ago that that particular mischief was fully +compensated for." + +[Illustration: THE READING ROOM--COLLEGE OF PHYSICIANS. +_From a Photo. by Mavor & Meredith_] + +He loved his work and never tired of it. He often told the story how +his first serious case, and encouraging cure, was himself. With severe +hemorrhage of the lungs, he was told it would be at the risk of his life +if he went on with his studies. A doctor, however, he made up his mind +he would be, and that he would begin by making every effort to cure +himself. With characteristic determination, he persisted in a strict +regimen of diet and fresh air. "I determined," said Sir Andrew, "as far +as my studies would allow me--for I never intended to give them up--to +live in the fresh air, often studying out of doors; and in a short time +I was so much better that I was able to take gentle exercise. I got +well, and I may almost say I got over the trouble which threatened me." +The lungs were healed, and a result which seemed inevitable avoided. He +would often say he obtained his first appointment at the London Hospital +chiefly out of pity, the authorities thinking he would not live six +months, but he outlived almost every one of them. + +[Illustration: THE CADUCENS, MACE, BOOK, AND SEAL--COLLEGE OF PHYSICIANS +_From a Photo by Mavor & Meredith_] + +No man could have kept on for fourteen and sixteen hours a day, as Sir +Andrew did, without unbounded enthusiasm and an absorbing interest. + +His enormous correspondence must have been the great tax. Most people +are disinclined to write a dozen letters at the end of a hard day's +work; but Sir Andrew often came home at eight o'clock with the knowledge +that letters would occupy him until after midnight. His letters averaged +sixty per day. These would be answered by return, except where minute +directions were inclosed. + +Only the other day, a friend of his told me, Sir Andrew came in the +morning, a short time before he was taken ill, looking very tired and +worried. On being asked the reason, he said he had not slept all night, +for he went to see a patient three days before, and because he had not +sent the table of directions, the patient wrote saying he would not try +his treatment. "I never slept," said Sir Andrew, "thinking of the state +of mind to which I had unavoidably reduced that poor patient." + +In order to get through his work he had a light breakfast at 7.30, when +he read his letters, which were opened for him. From eight until two or +three he saw patients, his simple luncheon being taken in the +consulting-room. He would then go to the hospital, College of +Physicians, or some consultation; he had often after that to go to see +someone at a distance, but he never worried a patient by seeming in a +hurry, however much pressed for time. + +He had a very strong sense of responsibility, and would never rest +himself by staying the night if it were unnecessary. A rich patient in +Devonshire once offered him a large sum to stay until the next morning. +"I could do you no good," said Sir Andrew, "and my patients will want me +to-morrow." Among his patients were almost all the great authors, +philosophers, and intellectual men of the day. Longfellow, Tennyson, +Huxley, Cardinal Manning, and numerous others were his warm friends. He +always declared he caught many a cold in the ascetic Cardinal's "cold +house." An old pupil truly says Sir Andrew had the rare faculty of +surveying the conditions and circumstances of each one, gathering them +up, and clearly seeing what was best to do. Professor Sheridan Delapine +says: "He was specially fond of quoting Sydenham's words: 'Tota ars +medici est in observationibus.'" + +After asking what was amiss and questioning them on what they told him, +he would say: "Give me a plan of your day. What is your work? When do +you take your meals? Of what do they consist? What time do you get up, +and when do you go to bed?" Notwithstanding the keenness of his eye and +natural intuition, which found out instantly far more than was told, he +not only eagerly and attentively listened, but _remembered_ what his +patient said. Sir Henry Roscoe gave me a striking instance of this, and +I cannot do better than quote his exact words:-- + +"I first made Sir Andrew's acquaintance about twenty years ago at +Braemar, where he was spending the autumn, and, as was his kindly wont, +had with him a young Manchester man, far gone in consumption, to whom he +acted as friend, counsellor, and physician. In our frequent walks and +talks, I confided in the eminent doctor that I had suffered from that +frequent plague of sedentary men, the gout. 'Come and see me any morning +in Cavendish Square before eight,' said he, 'and I will do what I can +for you.' Many years slipped by; living then in Manchester, I never took +advantage of the kind offer, and I never saw Sir Andrew until some eight +years afterwards. I was calling on my old friend, Sir Joseph Whitworth, +who at that time had rooms in Great George Street. As I came quickly out +of the front door, Clark's carriage drove up, and almost before it +stopped the Doctor 'bounced' out and we nearly ran against each other. +In one 'instant-minute,' as our American friends say, he accosted me: +'Well! How's the gout?' He had no more idea of meeting me at that moment +than of meeting the man in the moon, and yet, no sooner had he seen my +face--which he had not looked upon for eight years--than the whole +'case' flashed upon him. Since that time I have often seen him, and I +shall always retain not only a high opinion of his great gifts, but also +an affectionate remembrance of his great-heartedness." + +Literary people and brain-workers particularly interested him, and they +found in the kind doctor a friend who understood them. He would advise +all writing that involved thought to be done in the morning before +luncheon. The evening might be spent in "taking in" or reading up the +subject of a book or paper, but there must be no giving out. For +brain-workers who were not strong, he insisted on meat in the middle of +the day; he declared that for this class it was "physiologically wicked" +even to have luncheon without. + +To one who spoke of fatigue after a comparatively short walk, he +replied: "Walk little, then. Many who work their brain are not up to +much exercise. I hardly ever walk a mile myself; but that need not +prevent men having plenty of fresh air." + +[Illustration: THE LONDON HOSPITAL +_From a Photo. by Mavor & Meredith._] + +Some people laugh at his rules for diet, etc., forgetting that these +simple directions are based on deep knowledge of the human frame. Let +them laugh. Many who have tried them know they have been different +people in consequence. His incisive words--"My friend, you eat too +much!" "My friend, you drink too much!" would not he appreciated by +all; but Sir Andrew thought nearly all diseases were the outcome of the +constant and apparently unimportant violation of the laws of health. +Those who were hopelessly ill would always hear the truth from him, but +he would leave no stone unturned to lessen their suffering. Many an +incurable patient has he sent to a home from the London Hospital, and +visited them afterwards. Only the other day I heard of patients he had +sent to St. Elizabeth's, Great Ormond Street, where incurable patients +are nursed and cared for until they die, and never left the hospital +without leaving a guinea with one of the nuns. Sir Andrew had no +stereotyped plan. It was not merely the disease, but the individual he +treated. A friend told me he saved her aunt's life. She could not sleep, +and Sir Andrew ordered them to give her breakfast at five, "for after +tossing about all night she might sleep after having some food," and so +it proved. + +[Illustration: THE HARRISON WARD--LONDON HOSPITAL. +_From a Photo. by Mavor & Meredith._] + +To others who might get well, he would say: "Fight for your life." + +Twelve years ago a lady (whom I met lately) had hemorrhage of the lungs +three times. She was told by seven doctors in the country that she "had +not a week to live." She had young children, and determined to make a +great effort to see Sir Andrew Clark. He prophesied she would get well, +providing she at once left the damp climate where she was then living +and made her permanent home at Malvern. A week after she had taken his +remedies she walked up the Wrekin. From that day she saw Sir Andrew once +every year, and looks upon herself as a monument of his skill. + +"Die to live," was a favourite saying of Sir Andrew's. "In congenial +work you will find life, strength, and happiness." This certainly was +his own experience. Only in July last he said to the writer of this +notice: "I never know what it is to feel well now, but work is the joy +of my life." + +He could, however, place strict limits as to how much a _patient_ might +work. It is well known how docile and obedient a patient he had in Mr. +Gladstone. One evening, coming downstairs muffled up to avoid a worse +cold, he was met by Sir Andrew with the greeting, "Where are you going?" +"To the House," said Mr. Gladstone. "No, you are not," replied his +friend; "you are going straight to bed!" and to bed he went. Sir Andrew +also limited the time Mr. Gladstone should speak. On one occasion, +however, notwithstanding the fact that the peremptory adviser was +present, watch in hand, Mr. Gladstone, after throwing down the written +speech as the clock struck, went on for another half-hour![A] This +disobedience was the exception which proved the rule. + + [A] The substance of this anecdote which I quote from memory, + appeared in the _Daily News_, and happened at Newcastle. + +Mr. Gladstone was a friend for whom Sir Andrew had the highest respect +and veneration, and hardly ever passed a day without going to see him. +Shortly before he was taken ill he said: "For twenty years I have never +heard Gladstone say an unkind or vituperative word of anyone." + +[Illustration: NURSE HARRISON--LONDON HOSPITAL. +(The nurse who tended Sir Andrew Clark in his last illness.) +_From a Photograph by Mavor & Meredith._] + +With respect to fees, he always took what was offered: sometimes he +would receive L500 for a long journey, sometimes two guineas. The +following is no doubt but one of many similar experiences. After a hard +day's work he was urgently summoned to a place 120 miles from London. It +was a very wet night. There was no carriage to meet him; no fly to be +had. After walking a mile or two he arrived at a small farm, and found +the daughter suffering from an attack of hysteria. Sir Andrew, with his +usual kindness, did what he could and evidently gave satisfaction, for +when he left the mother said: "Well, Sir Andrew, you have been so kind +we must make it double," and handed him two guineas. He thanked them and +said: "Good-bye." + +Sir Andrew would never hear of charging more than his usual fee because +a person happened to be very rich. In a word, he was honest. On one +occasion when going to see a patient in the south, the doctor who was to +meet him in consultation met Sir Andrew at the station, told him they +were rich, and quite prepared to pay a very high fee. But Sir Andrew +replied: "I did not come from London," and naming the place where he was +staying, said, "My fee is only a third of the sum you name." Sir Andrew +was not indifferent to fees; on the contrary, he rather took a pride in +telling how much he earned. He is said to have once received L5,000 for +going to Cannes, the largest _medical_ fee known. Some, however, have +wondered who did pay him--so numerous were his non-paying patients. From +Anglican and Roman Catholic clergy, sisters, nuns, and all engaged in +any charitable work (unless rich men) he would never consent to receive +a fee, at the same time making it felt that unwillingness to accept his +advice "would deprive him of a pleasure"; and it was felt that this was +literally true, and if anything the patients whom he saw "as a friend" +were shown more consideration than others. "Come and see me next week," +he said to one who demurred to the necessity for going again, knowing he +would not accept a fee, "and I will arrange that you shall not be +kept waiting." + +[Illustration: FACSIMILE OF A PRESCRIPTION WRITTEN BY SIR ANDREW CLARK.] + +The present Lord Tennyson writes: "We are among the many who are much +indebted to Sir Andrew Clark. It was in a great measure owing to him +that my father recovered from his dangerous attack of gout in 1888, when +'he was as near death as a man could be.' After this illness Sir Andrew +paid us a visit, at Aldworth, in the summer of 1889. He told us that he +had come in spite of a summons from the Shah, to which he had replied +that the Shah's Hakim could not obey, as he had promised to visit his +old friend--the old Poet. Sir Andrew added: 'This disobedience of your +humble and devoted physician for the sake of his friend, the crowned +King of Song, struck the crowned King of Kings so much that, so far from +being offended, he took a noble view, and, as a mark of signal honour, +sent me the Star of the Second Class of the Lion and Sun of Persia.'" + +[Illustration: SIR JAMES CLARK. +(Eldest son of Sir Andrew Clark.) +_From a Photograph by Wyrall, Aldershot._] + +Sundays were often spent out of town, at Hawarden and elsewhere, and +latterly at Camfield, the house so lately purchased. Both this and his +town house were entirely furnished, as he wished each to be complete +in itself. + +Already at Essendon the example of his life was felt to be a power for +good, as well as the kind interest he took in his poorer neighbours, +inviting them up to his house, promising to give the men a dinner at +Christmas, etc. Yet Sir Andrew was no "country gentleman"; his favourite +recreation was books. On being asked: "Which way are we looking? In +which direction is London?" he replied: "I don't know." "Don't you know +how the house stands, or what soil it is built upon?" and again he had +to plead ignorance. + +Nevertheless, his love of neatness made him notice if a place was in +good order. One day, driving over to see some neighbours, after +congratulating them on the well-kept garden, he was getting into the +carriage, when he suddenly remembered he had not told the gardener how +much pleased he was with the whole place, and with his usual courtesy +insisted on going back to find him. + +One of Sir Andrew's holidays was a trip to Canada, when he accompanied +the Marquis of Lorne and Princess Louise, on the former being appointed +Governor-General there. This he did as a friend, and in no way in a +medical capacity. He was most popular on the voyage out among the +passengers, keeping the ship alive with jokes and amusing stories, and +many called him "Merry Andrew." He was almost boyish in his keen +enjoyment of a holiday. He was evidently devoted to music, and was +delighted with the beautiful string band the Duke of Edinburgh brought +on board at Halifax. In Canada, Sir Andrew was most warmly received and +universally liked by everyone. Amongst others he made the acquaintance +of Sir John Macdonald. + +The Princess told me without doubt there was one predominating interest +in his mind, and that the supernatural--whether at a British Association +meeting, the College of Physicians, or speaking privately to his own +friends. He realized the impossibility of explaining by scientific +methods the supernatural. He would often say: "There is more in Heaven +and earth than this world dreams of. Given the most _perfect_ scientific +methods, you will find beyond abysses which you are powerless +to explore." + +He had the greatest charm of mind, and, needless to say, was a +delightful companion. His topics of conversation were extremely varied: +he liked dialectics for talk and argument's sake, and enjoyed talking to +those who had somewhat the same taste. Possibly for this reason he did +not fully appreciate children, although they amused him, and he liked to +understand their ideas. A friend of Sir Andrew's staying with him at the +time told me the following characteristic anecdote: One afternoon during +his autumn holiday in Scotland the footman came in to put coals on the +fire, and a child (a relation) coughed vehemently. "Why do you cough so +much?" said Sir Andrew. "To make James look at me," said the child. Sir +Andrew was "solemnly interested," and afterwards took it as a parable of +a woman's nature, which, speaking generally, he considered morally and +ethically inferior to a man's. In his opinion very many women were +wanting in the two great qualities--justice and truth--considering their +own, their children's, or their husband's interests first rather than +what was absolutely right. + +One subject that interested him very much was heredity, and he had, of +course, countless opportunities of studying it. "Temperance and +morality," he would say, "are most distinctly transmitted, especially by +the mother; but," said Sir Andrew, "in spite of heredity, I am what I +am by my own choice." + +Sir Andrew was a great reader. Metaphysics, philosophy, and theology +were his favourite subjects, especially the latter--he also occasionally +read a good novel. Reading was his only relaxation, for it was one he +could enjoy while driving or in the train. Dr. Russell, who was with him +when going to attend the tercentenary of Dublin College, tells the story +how Sir Andrew not only read but wrote hour after hour in the railway +carriage, and, in addition, listened to the conversation. Dr. Russell +Reynolds, Sir James Paget, Sir Dyce Duckworth, and Sir R. Quain were of +the party, and the two latter joined Dr. Russell in remarking with him +that it would ruin his eyesight. "I am using my eyes, not abusing them," +replied Sir Andrew; "you cannot injure any organ by the exercise of it, +but by the excess of exercise of it. I would not do it were I not +accustomed to read and write without the smallest amount of mischief." + +I much regret that lack of space prevents my describing the London +Hospital as I should like. Of most hospitals Sir Andrew was a governor, +but his great interest was the London, of which he and Lady Clark were +both life governors. + +While Sir Andrew was visiting physician he came regularly twice a week, +as well as for consultation. He was interested in everything that +concerned the patients, and always had a kind word for the nurses. One +nurse in the Charlotte Ward (Sir Andrew Clark's) said he used literally +to shovel out half-crowns at Christmas when he asked what the patients +were going to do. Everyone speaks Of the pecuniary sacrifice and strain +his connection with the hospital involved. He endowed a medical +tutorship, also scholarships for students. Students, nurses, etc., would +eagerly listen to his informal expositions in the wards, as he +invariably showed a grasp of the subject that was equally minute and +comprehensive. "He would start from some particular point and work his +way point by point down to the minutest detail, not bewildering by a +multiplicity of facts, but keeping them all in order with perfect +handling, until the framing of the whole thing stood out luminously +clear to the dullest comprehension. An old pupil says his well-known +authoritative manner was the result of a profound and laboriously +acquired knowledge of his art, acquired by years of careful work in +hospital wards and post-mortem rooms."--_Medical Journal_. + +[Illustration: SIR ANDREW CLARK. +_From a Painting by G.F. Watts, R.A._] + +Happily there are two portraits of Sir Andrew. The last beautifully +painted picture by Mr. Watts (which by the great kindness of the artist +is allowed to be reproduced in this sketch) was only finished a few days +before Sir Andrew was taken ill--for he could only sit from eight till +nine a.m. It is one of the series Mr. Watts is so generously giving to +the nation, and he "thinks it one of his best." Sir Andrew himself was +delighted with it, saying in his hearty way to Mrs. Watts: "Why, it +_thinks_!" The position in the picture by Frank Holl is unfortunate. + +Very imperfectly I have described the varied work of a man of limitless +energy, with an exceptionally keen appreciation of men and things. A +great man has passed away, and we are poorer in consequence. + + * * * * * + + + +_Beauties:--Children._ + + +[Illustration: Winnifred Emma Heale. +_From a Photo. by Heath & Bradnee, Exeter._] + +[Illustration: Edith Marguerite Dickinson. +_From a Photo. by J. Hargreaves, Barrow-in-Furness._] + +[Illustration: Myrta Vivienne Stubbs. +_From a Photo. by Medringtons, Ltd., Liverpool._] + +[Illustration: Kathleen Keyse +_From a Photograph._] + +[Illustration: Madge Erskine +_From a Photo. by Allison & Allison, Belfast._] + +[Illustration: Dorothy Birch Done +_From a Photo. by Stanley Hurst, Wrexham._] + +[Illustration: Evelyn Mary Dowdell. +_From a Photo. by G. Ridsdale Cleare, Lower Clapton, N. E._] + +[Illustration: Nelly M. Morris. +_From a Photo. by J. W. Thomas, Colwyn Bay._] + +[Illustration: Aligander Smith. +_From a Photo. by Norman, May, & Co., Ltd., Malvern._] + + * * * * * + + + +_The Signatures of Charles Dickens (with Portraits)._ + +FROM 1825 TO 1870. + +(Born 7th February, 1812; died 9th June, 1870.) + +BY J. HOLT SCHOOLING. + + +"Everybody knows what Dickens's signature is like"--says the reader who +bases acquaintance with it upon the familiar, gold-impressed facsimile +on the well-known red covers of his works--"a free, dashing signature, +with an extensive and well-graduated flourish underneath." (No. 1.) + +Aye! But have you ever seen an original Dickens-letter? Have you ever +handled, not one, but hundreds of his documents--letters, franked +envelopes, cheques signed by Dickens, cheques indorsed by him, legal +agreements bearing his signature, and the original MSS. of his works? +Owing to the kindness of owners and guardians of Dickens-letters, etc. I +have been able to supplement the materials in my own collection by +numerous facsimiles taken direct from a priceless store of Dickens-MSS. +Here are some of the specimens. We will glance over them, and in doing +so will view them, not merely as signatures, but also as +permanently-recorded tracings of Dickens's nerve muscular action--of his +_gesture_. The expressive play of his facial muscles has gone, the +varying inflections of voice have gone, but we still possess the +self-registered and characteristic tracings of Charles Dickens's +hand-gesture. + + +[Illustration: NO. 1.--FAMILIAR "BOOK COVER" SIGNATURE.] + +[Illustration: NO. 2.--WRITTEN IN 1825.] + +In No. 1 we have the signature of Dickens as he wrote it when aged +forty-five to fifty; in No. 2 there is the boy's signature at the age of +thirteen, written to a school-fellow. This youthful signature shows the +existence in embryo form of the "flourish" so commonly associated with +Dickens's signature. It is interesting to note that the receiver of this +early letter has stated that its schoolboy writer had "more than usual +flow of spirits, held his head more erect than lads ordinarily do," and +that "there was a general smartness about him." We shall perhaps see +that the direct emphasis of so many of Charles Dickens's signatures +which is given by his "flourish" may be fitly associated with certain +characteristics of the man himself. We may also note that high spirits +and vigorous nervous energy are productive of redundant nerve-muscular +activity in any direction--hand gesture included. + +[Illustration: AGE 18. _From a Miniature by Mrs. Janet Barrow_.] + +Let us look at some other early signatures. Hitherto they have been +stowed away in various collections, and they are almost unknown. + +[Illustration: NO. 3.--WRITTEN IN 1830.] + +The next facsimile, No. 3, is remarkable as being almost the only full +signature out of hundreds I have seen which lacks the flourish; this +specimen is also worth notice, owing to the "droop" of every word below +the horizontal level from which each starts--a little piece of +nerve-muscular evidence of mental or physical depression, which may be +tested by anyone who cares to examine his own handwriting produced under +conditions which diminish bodily vigour or mental _elan_. + +[Illustration: NO. 4.--WRITTEN IN 1831.] + +The writing of No. 4 is very like that of No. 3; the easy curves below +the signature are cleverly made, and while they indicate much energy, +they also point to a useful confidence in self, owing to the deliberate +way of accentuating the most personal part of a letter--its signature. + +[Illustration: NO. 5.--WRITTEN IN 1832.] + +No. 5 is the facsimile of a signature to a letter which was written in +the Library of the British Museum to "My dear Knolle"; the letter ends: +"Believe me (in haste), yours most truly." At this time--1832--Dickens +was a newspaper reporter, and it is curious to notice that in spite of +"haste" he yet managed to execute this complex movement underneath the +signature. Its force and energy are great, but we shall see even more +pronounced developments of this flourish before it takes the moderated +and graceful form of confident and assured power. + +[Illustration: NO. 6.--WRITTEN IN 1833 OR 1834.] + +There is still more force and "go" about No. 6: it was written on +"Wednesday night, past 12," and also in haste. Dickens was reporting for +the _Morning Chronicle_, and was just starting on a journey, but yet +there are here two separate flourishes; one begins under the _s_ of +_Charles_ and ends under the _C_ of that name; the other starts under +the capital _D_ and finishes below the _n_ of _Dickens_. + +[Illustration: AGE 23. +_From a Miniature by Miss R. E. Drummond._] + +[Illustration: NO. 7.--WRITTEN IN 1836.] + +[Illustration: NO. 8.--WRITTEN OCT. 1, 1836.] + +The intricacy of the next facsimile, No. 7, is an ugly but a very active +piece of movement. This group of curves is equal to about a two-feet +length of pen-stroke, a fact which indicates an extraordinary amount of +personal energy. Dickens was then writing his "Sketches by Boz," and +this ungraceful elaboration of his signature was probably accompanied by +a growing sense of his own capacity and power. During the time-interval +between the signatures shown in Nos. 7 and 8, the first number of the +"Pickwick Papers" was published--March, 1836--and Charles Dickens +married Catherine Hogarth on the 2nd of April in that year. The original +of a very different facsimile (No. 9) was written as a receipt in the +account-book of Messrs. Chapman and Hall for an advance of L5. + +[Illustration: NO. 9.--WRITTEN IN 1837.] + +The six facsimiles numbered 9 to 15 deserve special notice. The +originals were all written in the year 1837, and I have purposely shown +them because their extraordinary variations entirely negative the +popular idea about the uniformity of Dickens's handwriting, and because +these mobile hand-gestures are a striking illustration of the mobility +and great sensibility to impressions which were prominent features in +Charles Dickens's nature. + +[Illustration: NO. 10.--WRITTEN IN 1837.] + +Common observation show us that a man whose mind is specially receptive +of impressions from persons and things around him, and whose sensibility +is very quick, can scarcely fail to show much variation in his own forms +of outward expression--such, for example, as facial "play," +voice-inflections, hand-gestures, and so on. Notice the originality in +the position of the flourishes shown in No. 9, and compare the +ungraceful movement of it with the much more dignified and pleasing +flourishes in some of the later signatures. A whimsical originality of +mind comes out also in the curious "B" of "Boz" (No. 10). + +[Illustration: NO. 11.--WRITTEN NOV. 3, 1837.] + +[Illustration: NO. 12.--WRITTEN NOV. 3, 1837.] + +[Illustration: AGE 25. +_From a Drawing by H. K. Browne._] + +The next pair--Nos. 11 and 12--are interesting. No. 11 shows the +signature squeezed in at the bottom of a page; the flourish was +attempted, and accompanied by the words: "No room for the flouish," the +_r_ of _flourish_ being omitted. No. 12 was written on the envelope of +the same letter. + +[Illustration: NO. l3.--WRITTEN NOV. 18, 1837. +_Taken from the Legal Agreement re "Pickwick."_] + +[Illustration: AGE 29. +_From a Drawing by Alfred Count D'Orsay._] + +No. 13 is a copy of a very famous signature: the original is on a great +parchment called "Deed of License Assignment and Covenants respecting a +Work called 'The Pickwick Papers,'" and which, after a preamble, +contains the words: "Whereas the said Charles Dickens is the Author of a +Book or Work intituled 'The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club,' +which has been recently printed and published in twenty parts or +numbers," etc. It is probable that the fact of the seal being placed +between _Charles_ and _Dickens_ prevented the flourish which almost +invariably accompanied his signatures on business documents; the marked +enlargement of this signature takes the place of the flourish, and shows +an unconscious emphasis of the _ego_. It would be almost unreasonable +for us to expect that so impressionable a man, who was also feeling his +power and fame, could abstain from showing outward signs of his own +consciousness of abnormal success. Yet, in the private letters of +Dickens, the simple "C. D." is very frequent; a few examples of it are +given in this article, and their present number in no way represents the +numerical relation of these simple signatures to the more "showy" ones. +It may at once be said that this point of difference is alike +interesting to the student of gesture and to the student of Dickens's +character. He was certainly a very able man of business, and the wording +of his "business" letters fully bears out the idea conveyed by his +"business" signature--so to speak--that Dickens was fully aware of his +own powers, and that, quite fairly, he did not omit to impress the fact +upon other people when he thought fit. Both the wording and the +signature of many of his private letters are simple and unostentatious +to a high degree. This curious fact, which is now illustrated by Charles +Dickens's own hand-gesture, ought to be remembered when people talk +about Dickens's "conceit" and "love of show." My explanation is, I +think, both logical and true. + +[Illustration: NO. 14.--WRITTEN IN 1837.] + +[Illustration: AGE 30. +_From a Portrait-Bust by H. Dexter._] + +No. 14 closes this series for the year 1837. It shows a quaint and +pretty signature on a wrapper. + +[Illustration: NO. 15.--WRITTEN MARCH 12, 1841. +_(Announcing the Death of "Raven", a prominent character in "Barnaby +Rudge")_] + +[Illustration: AGE ABOUT 30. +_From a Drawing by R.J. Lane, A.E._] + +No. 15 shows part of a very humorous and famous letter announcing the +death of the raven which figures in "Barnaby Rudge." Notice the curious +originality of form shown in the capital _Y_ and _R_. The wording of +this letter is also quaintly original, and the sensitive mind of this +man again caused his nerve-muscular action--his gesture--to harmonize +with his mood. Points of this kind, which the handwriting of Dickens +illustrates so well, have a deeper meaning for the observant than for +the casual reader of a magazine article; they indicate that these little +human acts, which have been so long overlooked by intelligent men, do +really give us valuable data for the study of mind by means of +written-gesture. + +[Illustration: NO. 16.--WRITTEN IN 1841] + +[Illustration: NO. 17.--WRITTEN IN 1841.] + +[Illustration: NO. 18.--WRITTEN IN 1843.] + +[Illustration: CHARLES DICKENS READING "THE CHIMES," 1844. +_From the original Sketch by David Maelise, R.A._] + +[Illustration: +CHARLES DICKENS AS "CAPTAIN BOBADIL" IN "EVERY MAN IN HIS HUMOUR." +_From a Painting by C.R. Leslie, R.A._] + +In No. 16 we see another and very original form of the "Boz" signature. +No. 17 has a curious stroke of activity above the signature. No. 18 is a +fine, strong signature. + +[Illustration: NO. 19.--WRITTEN IN 1845.] + +[Illustration: NO. 20.--WRITTEN MAY 12, 1848. (PASS TO THE STAGE.)] + +[Illustration: +CHARLES DICKENS AS "SIR CHARLES COLDSTREAM" IN "USED UP", 1850. +_From a Painting by Augustus Egg, R.A._] + +No. 19 is remarkably vigorous and active. The well-controlled activity +and energy of the signatures are now strongly marked. No. 20 explains +itself; the curious _P_ of _Pass_ is worth notice. + +[Illustration: NO. 21.--WRITTEN JULY 22, 1854.] + +[Illustration: CHARLES DICKENS IN HIS STUDY, 1854. +_From the Picture by E.M. Ward, R.A._] + +[Illustration: AGE 44. +_From the Painting by Ary Scheffer_.] + +No. 21 is a stray illustration of clever and gracefully-executed +movements which abound in Dickens's letters. + +[Illustration: NO. 22.--WRITTEN WHEN ILL, OCT. 29, 1859] + +[Illustration: AGE 47. +_From an Oil Painting by W.P. Frith, R.A._] + +See, in No. 22, how illness disturbed the fine action of this splendid +organism; but illness did not prevent attention to detail--the dot is +placed after the _D_. + +[Illustration: NO. 23.--WRITTEN NOV. 1, 1860.] + +[Illustration: NO. 24.--WRITTEN JAN. 17, 1861.] + +[Illustration: NO. 25.--WRITTEN NOV. 25, 1861.] + +[Illustration: DICKENS AS "RICHARD WARDOUR" IN "THE FROZEN DEEP."] + +[Illustration: AGE 49. +_From a Photograph_.] + +[Illustration: AGE 51. +_From a Photo. by Alphonse Maze, Paris._] + +When on a reading tour, Dickens wrote at Bideford the letter from which +No. 23 has been copied. After writing that he could get nothing to eat +or drink at the small inn, he wrote the sentence facsimiled. The +exaggeration of the words is matched by the use of two capital _T_'s in +place of two small _t_'s. The letter continues: "The landlady is playing +cribbage with the landlord in the next room (behind a thin partition), +and they seem quite comfortable." No. 24 is another instance of the +variation which, in fact, obtained up to the very day before death. No. +25 was written at Berwick-on-Tweed; it is an amusing letter, and states +how the local agents wanted to put the famous reader into "a little +lofty crow's nest," and how "I instantly struck, of course, and said I +would either read in a room attached to this house ... or not at all. +Terrified local agents glowered, but fell prostrate." By the way, +notice, in No. 25, the emphasis of gesture on the _me_. + +[Illustration: NO. 26.--WRITTEN FEB. 3, 1864.] + +[Illustration: DICKENS IN HIS BASKET CARRIAGE. +_From a Photo. by Mason._] + +No. 26 is written in one continuous stroke with a noticeably good +management of the curves. The graceful imagination of this is +very striking. + +[Illustration: NO. 27.--WRITTEN JUNE 7, 1866.] + +[Illustration: CHARLES DICKENS READING TO HIS DAUGHTERS, 1863. +_From a Photograph by R. H. Mason._] + +No. 27 shows the endorsement on a cheque. + +[Illustration: NO. 28.--WRITTEN JUNE 6, 1870 (THREE DAYS BEFORE DEATH).] + +[Illustration: NO. 29.--WRITTEN JUNE 8, 1870 (ONE DAY BEFORE DEATH).] + +[Illustration: AGE 56. +_From a Photograph by Garney, New York._] + +But we near the end. Doctors had detected the signs of breaking up, +which are not less plain in the written gesture, and had strenuously +urged Dickens to stop the incessant strain caused by his public +readings. The stimulus of facing an appreciative audience would spur him +on time after time, and then, late at night, he would write affectionate +letters giving details of "the house," etc., but which are painful to +see if one notices the constant droop of the words and of the lines +across the page. Contrast the writing in No. 28, broken and agitated, +with some of the earlier specimens I have shown you. This was written +three days before death. The wording of the letter from which No. 29 has +been copied tells no tale of weakness, but the gesture which clothes the +words is tell-tale. The words, and the lines of words, run downward +across the paper, and No. 29 is very suggestive of serious trouble--and +it is specially suggestive to those who have studied this form of +gesture: look, for example, at the ill-managed flourish. + +[Illustration: NO. 30.--WRITTEN JUNE 8, 1870 (ONE DAY BEFORE DEATH.) +_From the last letter written by Charles Dickens._] + +Now comes a facsimile taken from the last letter written by Charles +Dickens. It has been given elsewhere, but, not satisfied with the +facsimile I saw, I obtained permission to take this direct from the +letter in the British Museum. This was written an hour or so before the +fatal seizure. Every word droops below the level from which each starts, +each line of writing descends across the page, the simple _C. D._ is +very shaky, and the whole letter is broken and weak. Charles Dickens was +not "ready" at "3 o'clock"--he died at ten minutes past six p.m. And so +ends this too scanty notice of a great man's written-gesture. + + * * * * * + +NOTE:--Considerations of space and of the avoidance of technicalities +have prevented a really full account of the written gesture of Charles +Dickens; scanty as the foregoing account is, the illustrations it +contains could not have been supplied by any one collector of Charles +Dickens's letters. I express my sincere gratitude to the many persons +who have enabled me to give these illustrations, and only regret that +one collector refused my request for the loan of some very early and +interesting letters. + +J.H.S. + + * * * * * + + + +_The Mirror._ + +By George Japy. + +[Illustration] + + +It has always been said that the Japanese are the French of the Orient. +Be that as it may, it is very clear that in certain traits which +characterize the French, there is no resemblance whatever between the +people of those two nations. + +Almost as soon as a French baby (a girl, be it understood) is born, its +first instinct is to stretch out its tiny hands for a mirror, in which +to admire its beautiful little face and its graceful movements. This +natural, and we may say inborn, taste grows with the child's growth, and +ere the fair girl has reached her seventeenth year, her ideal of perfect +bliss is to find herself in a room with mirrors on every side. There is +indeed a room in the Palace of Versailles which is the elysium of the +Frenchwoman. It is a long room with looking-glasses from ceiling to +floor, and the said floor is polished so that it reflects, at any rate, +the shadow of the feet. + +Now, in the little Japanese village of Yowcuski a looking-glass was an +unheard-of thing, and girls did not even know what they looked like, +except on hearing the description which their lovers gave them of their +personal beauty (which description, by-the-bye, was sometimes slightly +biased, according as the lover was more or less devoted). + +[Illustration: "HE PICKED UP ONE DAY IN THE STREET A SMALL POCKET +HAND-MIRROR."] + +Now it happened that a young Japanese, whose daily work was to pull +along those light carriages such as were seen at the last Paris +Exhibition, picked up one day in the street a small pocket hand-mirror, +probably dropped by some English lady-tourist on her travels in that +part of the world. + +It was, of course, the first time in his life that Kiki-Tsum had ever +gazed on such a thing. He looked carefully at it, and to his intense +astonishment saw the image of a brown face, with dark, intelligent eyes, +and a look of awestruck wonderment expressed on its features. + +Kiki-Tsum dropped on his knees, and gazing earnestly at the object he +held in his hand, he whispered, "It is my sainted father. How could his +portrait have come here? Is it, perhaps, a warning of some kind for me?" + +He carefully folded the precious treasure up in his handkerchief, and +put it in the large pocket of his loose blouse. When he went home that +night he hid it away carefully in a vase which was scarcely ever +touched, as he did not know of any safer place in which to deposit it. +He said nothing of the adventure to his young wife, for, as he said to +himself "Women are curious, and then, too, _sometimes_ they are given to +talking," and Kiki-Tsum felt that it was too reverent a matter to be +discussed by neighbours, this finding of his dead father's portrait in +the street. + +For some days Kiki-Tsum was in a great state of excitement. He was +thinking of the portrait all the time, and at intervals he would leave +his work and suddenly appear at home to take a furtive look at +his treasure. + +[Illustration: "ALWAYS WITH THE SAME SOLEMN EXPRESSION."] + +Now, in Japan, as in other countries, mysterious actions and irregular +proceedings of all kinds have to be explained to a wife. Lili-Tsee did +not understand why her husband kept appearing at all hours of the day. +Certainly he kissed her every time he came in like this. At first she +was satisfied with his explanation when he told her that he only ran in +for a minute to see her pretty face. She thought it was really quite +natural on his part, but when day after day he appeared, and always with +the same solemn expression on his face, she began to wonder in her heart +of hearts whether he was telling her the whole truth. And so Lili-Tsee +fell to watching her husband's movements, and she noticed that he never +went away until he had been alone in the little room at the back of +the house. + +[Illustration: "WHAT WAS IT SHE SAW?"] + +Now the Japanese women are as persevering as any others when there is a +mystery to be discovered, and so Lili-Tsee set herself to discover this +mystery. She hunted day after day to see if she could find some trace of +anything in that little room which was at all unusual, but she found +nothing. One day, however, she happened to come in suddenly and saw her +husband replacing the long blue vase in which she kept her rose leaves +in order to dry them. He made some excuse about its not looking very +steady, and appeared to be just setting it right, and Lili-Tsee +pretended there was nothing out of the common in his putting the vase +straight. The moment he had gone out of the house, though, she was up on +a stool like lightning, and in a moment she had fished the looking-glass +out of the vase. She took it carefully in her hand, wondering whatever +it could be, but when she looked in it the terrible truth was clear. +What was it she saw? + +Why, the portrait of a woman, and she had believed that Kiki-Tsum was so +good, and so fond, and so true. + +Her grief was at first too deep for any words. She just sat down on the +floor with the terrible portrait in her lap, and rocked herself +backwards and forwards. This, then, was why her husband came home so +many times in the day. It was to look at the portrait of the woman she +had just seen. + +Suddenly a fit of anger seized her, and she gazed at the glass again. +The same face looked at her, but she wondered how her husband could +admire such a face, so wicked did the dark eyes look: there was an +expression in them that she certainly had not seen the first time she +had looked at it, and it terrified her so much that she made up her mind +not to look at it again. + +She had no heart, however, for anything, and did not even make any +attempt to prepare a meal for her husband. She just went on sitting +there on the floor, nursing the portrait, and at the same time her +wrath. When later on Kiki-Tsum arrived, he was surprised to find nothing +ready for their evening meal, and no wife. He walked through to the +other rooms, and was not long left in ignorance of the cause of the +unusual state of things. + +"So this is the love you professed for me! This is the way in which you +treat me, before we have even been married a year!" + +"What do you mean, Lili-Tsee?" asked her husband, in consternation, +thinking that his poor wife had taken leave of her senses. + +"What do I mean? What do you mean? I should think. The idea of your +keeping portraits in my rose-leaf vase. Here, take it and treasure it, +for I do not want it, the wicked, wicked woman!" and here poor Lili-Tsee +burst out crying. + +"I cannot understand," said her bewildered husband. + +"Oh, you can't?" she said, laughing hysterically. "I can, though, well +enough. You like that hideous, villainous-looking woman better than your +own true wife. I would say nothing if she were at any rate beautiful; +but she has a vile face, a hideous face, and looks wicked and murderous, +and everything that is bad!" + +"Lili-Tsee, what do you mean?" asked her husband, getting exasperated in +his turn. "That portrait is the living image of my poor dead father. I +found it in the street the other day, and put it in your vase +for safety." + +Lili-Tsee's eyes flashed with indignation at this apparently barefaced +lie. + +"Hear him!" she almost screamed. "He wants to tell me now that I do not +know a woman's face from a man's." + +Kiki-Tsum was wild with indignation, and a quarrel began in good +earnest. The street-door was a little way open, and the loud, angry +words attracted the notice of a _bonze_ (one of the Japanese priests) +who happened to be passing. + +"My children," he said, putting his head in at the door, "why this +unseemly anger, why this dispute?" + +"Father," said Kiki-Tsum, "my wife is mad." + +"All women are so, my son, more or less," interrupted the holy _bonze_. +"You were wrong to expect perfection, and must abide by your bargain +now. It is no use getting angry, all wives are trials." + +"But what she says is a lie." + +"It is not, father," exclaimed Lili-Tsee. "My husband has the portrait +of a woman, and I found it hidden in my rose-leaf vase." + +"I swear that I have no portrait but that of my poor dead father," +explained the aggrieved husband. + +"My children, my children," said the holy _bonze_, majestically, "show +me the portraits." + +"Here it is; there is only one, but it is one too many," said Lili-Tsee, +sarcastically. + +The _bonze_ took the glass and looked at it earnestly. He then bowed low +before it, and in an altered tone said: "My children, settle your +quarrel and live peaceably together. You are both in the wrong. This +portrait is that of a saintly and venerable _bonze_. I know not how you +could mistake so holy a face. I must take it from you and place it +amongst the precious relics of our church." + +So saying, the _bonze_ lifted his hands to bless the husband and wife, +and then went slowly away, carrying with him the glass which had wrought +such mischief. + +END. + +[Illustration] + + * * * * * + + + +_Handcuffs._ + +WRITTEN AND ILLUSTRATED BY INSPECTOR MAURICE MOSER, + +_Late of the Criminal Investigation Department, Great Scotland Yard._ + + +The ordinary connection of ideas between handcuffs and policemen does +not need very acute mental powers to grasp, but there is a further +connection, a philological one, which is only evident at first sight to +those who have made a small acquaintance with the science of words. + +The word "handcuff" is a popular corruption of the Anglo-Saxon +"handcop," _i.e._, that which "cops" or "catches" the hands. + +Now, one of the most common of the many slang expressions used by their +special enemies towards the police is "Copper"--_i.e._, he who cops the +offending member. Strange as it may seem, handcuffs are by no means the +invention of these times, which insist on making the life of a prisoner +so devoid of the picturesque and romantic. + +We must go back, past the dark ages, past the stirring times of Greek +and Roman antiquity, till we come to those blissful mythological ages +when every tree and every stream was the home of some kindly god. + +In those olden days there dwelt in the Carpathian Sea a wily old deity, +known by the name of Proteus, possessing the gift of prophecy, the +fruits of which he selfishly denied to mankind. + +Even if those who wished to consult him were so fortunate as to find +him, all their efforts to force him to exert his gifts of prophecy were +useless, for he was endowed with the power of changing himself into all +things, and he eluded their grasp by becoming a flame of fire or a drop +of water. There was one thing, however, against which all the miracles +of Proteus were of no avail, and of this Aristaeus was aware. + +So Aristaeus came, as Virgil tells us, from a distant land to consult the +famous prophet. He found him on the sea-shore among his seals, basking +in the afternoon sun. Quick as thought he fitted handcuffs on him, and +all struggles and devices were now of no avail. Such was then the +efficacy of handcuffs even on the persons of the immortal gods. + +Having established this remote and honourable antiquity, we are not +surprised at the appearance of handcuffs in the fourth century B.C., +when the soldiers of a conquering Greek army found among the baggage of +the routed Carthaginians several chariots full of handcuffs, which had +been held ready in confident anticipation of a great victory and a +multitude of prisoners. + +The nearest approach to a mention that we find after that is in the Book +of Psalms: "To bind their kings in chains and their nobles in fetters of +iron." But in the Greek, the Latin, Wickliffe's, and Anglo-Saxon Bible +we invariably find a word of which handcuffs is the only real +translation. It is also interesting to note that in the Anglo-Saxon +version the kings are bound in "footcops" and the nobles in "handcops." + +In the early Saxon times, therefore, we find our instrument is familiar +to all and in general use, as it has continued to be to this day. But +during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries there is no instance of the +use of the word "handcop"; its place is taken by "swivel manacle" and +"shackbolt," the latter word being often used by Elizabethan authors. + +Handcuffs, like other things, have improved with time. Up to 1850 there +were two kinds in general use in England. One of the forms, most common +in the earlier part of this century, went under the name of the "Figure +8." This instrument does not allow the prisoner even that small amount +of liberty which is granted by its modern counterpart. It was chiefly +used for refractory prisoners who resorted to violence, for it had the +advantage of keeping the hands in a fixed position, either before or on +the back of the body. The pain it inflicted made it partake of the +nature of a punishment rather than merely a preventive against +resistance or attack. It was a punishment, too, which was universally +dreaded by prisoners of all kinds, for there is no more unbearable pain +than that of having a limb immovably confined. + +[Illustration: NO. 1.--THE "FLEXIBLE."] + +The other kind of form known as the "Flexible" (No. 1) resembled in +general outlines the handcuffs used every day by detectives. + +Contrivances, chiefly the result of American ingenuity, for the rapid +and effectual securing of prisoners have not been wanting, and among +them the "Snap," the "Nippers" (No. 3) and the "Twister" must be +mentioned. + +[Illustration: NO. 2.--THE "SNAP."] + +[Illustration: NO. 3.--"NIPPERS."] + +[Illustration: NO. 4.--THE "TWISTER"] + +The "Snap" (No. 2) is the one which used to be the most approved of. It +consists of two loops, of which the smaller is slipped on the wrists of +the person to be arrested, the bars are then closed with a snap, and the +larger loop is held by the officer. The manner in which the "Twister" +(No. 4) was used savours very much of the brutal, and, indeed, the +injuries it inflicted on those who were misguided enough to struggle +when in its grasp caused its abolition in Great Britain. + +Its simplicity and its efficacy, together with the cruelty, have +recommended it for use in those wild parts of South America where the +upholder of the laws literally travels with his life in his hands. It +consists of a chain with handles at each end; the chain is put round the +wrists, the handles brought together and twisted round until the chain +grips firmly. The torture inflicted by inhuman or inconsiderate officers +can easily be imagined. When we see the comparative facility with which +the detective slips the handcuffs on the villain in the last act of +Adelphi dramas, we are apt to be misled as to the difficulty which +police officers meet with in the execution of one of the most arduous +parts of their duty. + +The English hand-cuffs (No. 1) are heavy, unwieldy, awkward machines, +which at the best of times, and under the most favourable circumstances, +are extremely difficult of application. They weigh over a pound, and +have to be unlocked with a key in a manner not greatly differing from +the operation of winding up the average eight-day clock, and fastened on +to the prisoner's wrists, how, the fates and good luck only know. This +lengthy, difficult, and particularly disagreeable operation, with a +prisoner struggling and fighting, is to a degree almost incredible. The +prisoner practically has to be overpowered or to submit before he can be +finally and certainly secured. + +Even when handcuffed, we present to a clever and muscular ruffian one of +the most formidable weapons of offence he could possibly possess, as he +can, and frequently does, inflict the deadliest blows upon his captor. +Another great drawback is the fact that these handcuffs do not fit all +wrists, and often the officer is nonplussed by having a pair of +handcuffs which are too small or too large; and when the latter is the +case, and the prisoner gets the "bracelets" in his hands instead of on +his wrists, he is then in possession of a knuckle-duster from which the +bravest would not care to receive a blow. + +On the occasion of my arresting one of the Russian rouble note forgers, +a ruffian who would not hesitate to stick at anything, I had provided +myself with several sized pairs of handcuffs, and it was not until I had +obtained the very much needed assistance that I was able to find the +suitable "darbies" for his wrists. We managed to force him into a +four-wheeler to take him to the police-station, when he again renewed +his efforts and savagely attacked me, lifting his ironed wrists and +bringing them down heavily on my head, completely crushing my +bowler hat. + +[Illustration: NO. 5--"AMERICAN HANDCUFF" (OPEN).] + +[Illustration: NO. 6--"AMERICAN HANDCUFF" (CLOSED).] + +As the English handcuffs have only been formed for criminals who +submitted quietly to necessity, it was considered expedient to find an +instrument applicable to all cases. The perfected article comes from +America (Nos. 5 and 6), and, being lighter, less clumsy, and more easily +concealed, finds general favour among the officers at Scotland Yard. In +fact, such are its advantages that we must presume that it differs +considerably from the Anglo-Saxon "Hand-cop" and the somewhat primitive +article used upon the unwilling prophet of the Carpathian Sea. This and +the older kind, to which some of the more conservative of our detectives +still adhere, are the only handcuffs used in England. + +[Illustration: No. 7--"LA LIGOTE."] + +The ingenious detective of France, where crime and all its +appurtenances have reached such a state of perfection, is not without +his means of securing his man (No. 7). It is called "La Ligote" or "Le +Cabriolet." There are two kinds: one is composed of several steel piano +strings, and the other of whip-cords twined together, and they are used +much in the same way as the "Twister." + +Any attempt to escape is quickly ended by the pain to which the officer +who holds the instrument can inflict by a mere turn of his hand. One +wrist only is under control, but as the slightest sign of a struggle is +met by an infliction of torture, the French system is more effective +than the English. + +[Illustration: NO. 8.--"MEXICAN HANDCUFF."] + +[Illustration: No. 9.--"LA POUCETTE."] + +The Mexican handcuff (Nos. 8 and 9) is a cumbersome and awkward article, +quite worthy of the retrograde country of its origin. + +[Illustration: NO. 10.--"LA CORDE."] + +No. 10 shows an effective method of handcuffing in emergencies. The +officer takes a piece of whipcord and makes a double running knot: he +ties one noose round the wrist of the prisoner, whose hand is then +placed in his trousers pocket, the cord is lashed round the body like a +belt, and brought back and slipped through the noose again. The prisoner +when thus secured suffers no inconvenience as long as he leaves his hand +in his pocket, but any attempt to remove it would cause a deal of +suffering. + +[Illustration: NO. 11.--"MENOTTE DOUBLE."] + +No. 11 is another handcuff of foreign make, and is merely used when a +raid is about to be made, as it allows to a certain extent the use of +the hands. It is useful for prisoners who are being conveyed by sea. + +[Illustration: NO. 12.--"EASTERN HANDCUFF."] + +No. 12 is mostly used in Eastern Europe. + +My personal experience of handcuffs is small, because I dislike them, +for in addition to their clumsiness, I know that when I have laid my +hands upon my man, it will be difficult for him to escape. + +My intimate knowledge of all kinds of criminals in all kinds of plights +justifies me in saying that when they see the game is up they do not +attempt resistance. The only trouble I have had has been with +desperadoes and old offenders, men who have once tasted prison-life and +have a horror of returning to captivity. + +Expert thieves have been known to open handcuffs without a key, by means +of knocking the part containing the spring on a stone or hard substance. +It will be remembered that when the notorious criminal "Charles Peace" +was being taken to London by train, he contrived, although handcuffed, +to make his escape through the carriage window. When he was captured it +was noticed that he had freed one of his hands. + +I was once bringing from Leith an Austrian sailor who was charged with +ripping open his mate, and as I considered that I had a disagreeable +character to deal with, I handcuffed him. Naturally, he found the +confinement irksome, and on our journey he repeatedly implored me to +take them off promising that he would make no attempt to escape. The +sincerity of his manner touched me and I released him, very fortunately +for myself, for I was taken ill before reaching London, and, strange as +it may appear, was nursed most tenderly by the man who had ripped a +fellow mate. + +In Belgium the use of handcuffs by police officers is entirely +forbidden. Prisoners are handcuffed only on being brought before the +_Juge d'Instruction_ or _Procureur du Roi_, and when crossing from court +to court. Women are never handcuffed in England, but on the Continent it +is not an uncommon occurrence. + +Regarding handcuffs generally, in my opinion not one of the inventions I +have mentioned now in use is sufficiently easy of application. What +every officer in the detective force feels he wants is a light, portable +instrument by means of which he can unaided secure his man, however +cunning and however powerful he may be. I myself suggest an application +which would grip the criminal tightly across the back, imprisoning the +arms just above the elbow joints. Such an instrument would cause him no +unnecessary pain, while relieving officers from that part of their duty +which is particularly obnoxious to them, viz., having a prolonged +struggle with low and savage ruffians. + +I cannot refrain from relating a piquant little anecdote told to me by a +French colleague, who had occasion to make an arrest, and came +unexpectedly on his man. Unfortunately he was unprovided with handcuffs +and was somewhat at a disadvantage, but being a quick-witted fellow, he +bethought himself of an effectual expedient. Taking out his knife he +severed the prisoner's buttons which were attached to his braces, thus +giving the man occupation for his hands and preventing a rapid flight. I +am indebted to M. Goron, Chief of the Detective Department in Paris, and +other colleagues for some of the specimens here reproduced by me. + + * * * * * + + + +_The Family Name._ + +From the French of HENRI MALIN + +[Illustration] + + +I. + +One afternoon, Mons. Sauvallier received from his younger son--a +lieutenant in garrison at Versailles--the following letter: + +"Versailles, May 25, 1883. + +"MY DEAR FATHER, + +"A terrible catastrophe has befallen me, one which will be a blow to you +also. I am writing about it, because I dare not face you; I deserve +never to see you again! + +"Led astray by a companion, I have been gambling on the Bourse, and am +involved in yesterday's crash, in which so many fortunes have been +suddenly swamped. + +"I scarcely dare to tell you how much I have lost. Yet I _must_ do so, +for the honour of the Sauvalliers is concerned. Alas! you will be all +but ruined! + +"I owe the sum of four hundred and sixty-eight thousand francs. Oh! what +a miserable wretch I am! + +"When I found that the smash was inevitable I went mad, and entered my +room with the intention of putting an end to my wretched existence. But +more sober thoughts prevailed: I changed my mind. I had heard that +officers were being recruited for Tonquin, and I determined to volunteer +for this service. My suicide would not have bettered matters; it would +rather have left an added blot upon our family name. Out there, at all +events, my death may be of use; it will cause you no shame, and may +perhaps move you to a little compassion for your guilty, but most +unhappy and despairing son, who suffers agonies at thought of the +trouble he has brought upon you, and who now bids you an +eternal farewell! + +"CAMILLE SAUVALLIER." + +Mons. Sauvallier, who had been a widower for several years past, was one +of the most respected business-men of Paris, the owner of a foundry, a +judge of the Tribunal of Commerce, and an officer of the Legion of +Honour. He had two sons: Camille, the lieutenant: and August, an artist +of some originality, who was the husband of a charming wife, and the +father of a little six-year-old maiden named Andree. Mons. Sauvallier +had always deterred his sons from embarking in trade. He had shrunk from +exposing them to the ups and downs of business life, its trying +fluctuations, its frequent cruel mischances. He had arranged that at his +death his estate should be realized: he did not wish the business to be +sold outright, in case it should pass into the hands of strangers who +might sully the hitherto unblemished name of Sauvallier. + +And now, in spite of all his precautions, a disaster greater than any he +had dreamed of had overwhelmed him. + +[Illustration: "HE ROSE WITH DIFFICULTY."] + +Leaning back wearily in his arm-chair, with haggard eyes he re-read his +son's letter, in order to assure himself that he was not dreaming. Yes! +It was too true! Camille had ruined, perhaps dishonoured, him! It +seemed as though the objects that surrounded him--the very walls and +furniture--were no longer the same! As one staggering beneath a too +heavy burden, he rose with difficulty, his limbs stiff, yet his whole +frame agitated; then he sank back into his chair, with two big tears +flowing down his cheeks. + +By hook or by crook he _must_ procure the sum, and the debt should be +paid to-morrow. It would be a difficult task. The wealth of the +manufacturer consists of material and merchandise. Would so hurried a +realization yield the necessary amount? He could not tell. Again, when +this debt was paid, would he be able to fulfil his engagements? +Bankruptcy stared him in the face. A Sauvallier bankrupt? An officer of +the Legion of Honour, a judge of the Tribunal of Commerce, insolvent? +Never! He would die first! + +But before it came to that, he would try every expedient: he would +strain every nerve. + +So all night long the poor man planned and calculated, and in the +morning, with heavy heart, proceeded to put his plans into effect. + +He visited his numerous friends and told them of his trouble, which +elicited much sympathy. In order to help, some made large purchases of +him, paying ready money, others advanced or lent him money. All day +until the evening he was running about Paris collecting cheques, +bank-notes, and orders. + +[Illustration: "HE NOW BROUGHT THE SUM THUS GAINED."] + +In the evening, as he sat down to ascertain the result of the day's +efforts. Auguste came in with his wife and Andree. To help his father, +the artist had parted with some of his pictures at a sacrifice, and he +now brought the sum thus gained. + +Andree, unconscious of the trouble of her elders, began to play with her +"Jeanne," a doll nearly as big as herself, which her grandfather had +given her some time previously, and which she loved, she said, "as her +own daughter." + +But the child soon observed the sadness of her parents and her dear +grandfather, and she looked with earnest, inquiring gaze from one to the +other, trying to discover what was amiss. She saw her father lay down +his pocket-book, she watched her mother place upon the table her +bracelets, necklaces, ear-rings, and rings, while Mons. Sauvallier +thanked them with tears in his eyes. With a very thoughtful, serious +expression on her little face, the child turned towards her doll, +embraced it with the emotional fervour of a last adieu, then carried it +to her grandfather, saying, in sweet, resigned tones: "Take it, +grandpapa! You can sell her, too." + +Mons. Sauvallier wept upon the neck of his little granddaughter, +murmuring, "You also, my angel? Oh, that miserable boy!" + + +II. + +Thus Camille's debt was paid, and the honour of the Sauvalliers was +saved. But the father's fortune had gone! + +He was able, however, to retain his business. He said to himself that he +must work still, in spite of his threescore years; that he must labour +incessantly, with the anxious ardour of those beginning life with +nothing to rely upon save their own exertions. + +He reduced his expenses, gave up his own house and went to live with his +son, sold his carriage and horses, discharged his servants, and stinted +himself in every possible way. Auguste became his designer, Auguste's +wife his clerk. Each accepted his or her share of the burden bravely and +uncomplainingly, as an important duty which must at any cost be +accomplished. + +The conduct of this old man, so jealous for his name, so upright, so +courageous in misfortune, excited profound sympathy. All who knew him +pitied him; orders flowed in, and soon a quite exceptional activity +pervaded the establishment from basement to roof, inspiring Mons. +Sauvallier with a little hope. But one persistent fear disturbed his +sleep, and troubled his waking hours. It was that some day he might hear +that Camille had been gambling again, and was once more in debt. He had +forbidden all mention of his erring son, but the thought of him was ever +present, and lay like an incubus upon his heart. + +One year passed, then another. The foundry still flourished; work +positively raged therein. It had no rest; it also, as though endowed +with a conscience, did its duty nobly. Its furnaces glowed like ardent +eyes; its mighty puffing and snorting shook the ground: the molten +metal, red and fuming, flowed from its crucibles like blood from its +body. At an early hour of the morning was heard its piercing summons to +the work-people, and all the night long its glare illuminated the sky. + + +III. + +The campaign of Tonquin was in full swing. In the midst of an unknown +country, harassed by innumerable difficulties, the French soldiers were +contending painfully with an irrepressible, ever-rallying foe. The +smallest success served to excite the popular patriotism, and all +awaited impatiently the tidings of a decisive victory. + +One morning, Auguste, looking very pale, entered his father's office, +and handed him a newspaper. There, amongst "Latest intelligence," Mons. +Sauvallier read the following:-- + +[Illustration: "LEADING THEM ON TO THE ASSAULT."] + +"From the camp entrenched at Dong-Song. February 12th, 1885.--To-day, +Captain Sauvallier attacked the enemy with extreme vigour, fought all +the day against considerable forces, and captured successively three +redoubts. In attacking the last of the three, his soldiers, overpowered +by numbers, were about to retreat; but, although seriously wounded in +the head and thigh, the gallant officer, borne by two men, succeeded in +rallying his company and leading them on to the assault. His conduct was +admirable, but his condition is hopeless. I have attached the cross to +his breast. This brilliant feat of arms will enable me to enter Lang-Son +tomorrow.--GENERAL BRIERE DE L'ISLE." + +Upon reading these words, Mons. Sauvallier felt a strange emotion, in +which anguish mingled with joy. For a moment he was silent; then he said +to his son, "You think that it is he? He is, then, a captain?" + +He read the despatch again, then murmured softly: "The cross! Condition +hopeless!" And a tear rolled down his cheek. + +Two hours later the family received a formal intimation of Camille's +deed and state from the Minister of War, and on the following day all +the journals were praising Captain Sauvallier, son of the respected +founder, of Grenelle. And now they gave details. Camille, it appeared, +had been nominated captain a few months back. Throughout the campaign he +had distinguished himself by his imperturbable coolness under fire, and +reckless scorn of the death which he seemed to seek. + +His act of heroic energy stirred the enthusiasm of Press and populace, +and the name of Sauvallier was on every lip. Camille's portrait appeared +in the shop-windows; the illustrated journals depicted him before the +redoubt, carried upon the shoulders of two men, his sword pointed +towards the enemy, encouraging his soldiers by his voice, gesture, and +look, his forehead bound with a handkerchief, and his face bleeding. + +Mons. Sauvallier could not go out of doors without seeing his son's +presentment. From the news-stalls of the boulevards, the corners of the +streets, the publishers' shop-fronts, a ubiquitous Camille watched him +pass, and seemed to follow him with his eyes. Almost at each step the +father received congratulations, while complimentary letters and cards +covered his table to overflowing. But, alas! the telegrams which he +received daily from Tonquin left him little hope that he should ever +again behold in the flesh this dear son, of whom now he was so proud. + +[Illustration: "HERE HE IS!"] + +One morning, three months later, Mons. Sauvallier was at work in his +office, when the door opened softly, and disclosed Andree's curly head. +The little one seemed in high spirits, her eyes sparkled with glee. +"See, grandfather, here he is!" she said, and led into the room Captain +Sauvallier. + +Auguste and his wife followed the pair. Mons. Sauvallier, taken +completely by surprise, rose quickly from his chair, then stood +motionless, overcome by his emotion. He saw before him Camille, with the +scar upon his forehead, and the cross upon his breast--Camille, the hero +of the hour, who had shed such lustre upon the family name! + +Timid and embarrassed, like a child who has been guilty of a fault, +Camille stood with bowed head, and when he saw how much his father had +aged, he knew that it was his conduct which had wrought the sad change, +and his contrition was deepened tenfold. + +But as he was about to throw himself at his father's feet, Mons. +Sauvallier, with a sudden movement, clasped him to his breast, +exclaiming, in a voice full of tears, "No, Camille! in my arms! in +my arms!" + +Father and son, locked together in closest embrace, mingled their sobs, +while Auguste and his wife, looking on, wept in sympathy. + +The silence was broken by Andree. The child had vanished for a moment, +but speedily reappeared, fondling her precious doll, which, it is +needless to say, had not been sold. Holding it out to the captain, she +said in her liveliest manner: "Here is Jeanne, uncle! You remember her? +Give her a kiss directly! Don't you think that she has grown?" + + * * * * * + + + +_The Queer Side of Things--Among the Freaks._ + +MAJOR MICROBE. + +[Illustration] + + +"I've been in the show business now going on for forty-three years," +said the Doorkeeper, "and I haven't yet found a Dwarf with human +feelings. I can't understand why it is, but there ain't the least manner +of doubt that a Dwarf is the meanest object in creation. Take General +Bacillus, the Dwarf I have with me now. He is well made, for a Dwarf, +and when he does his poses plastic, such as 'Ajax Defying the +Lightning,' or 'Samson Carrying off Delilah by the Hair,' and all the +rest of those Scripture tablows, he is as pretty as a picture, provided, +of course, you don't get too near him. He is healthy, and has a good +appetite, and he draws a good salary, and has no one except himself to +look after. And yet that Dwarf ain't happy! On the contrary, he is the +most discontented, cantankerous, malicious little wretch that was ever +admitted into a Moral Family Show. And he ain't much worse than an +ordinary Dwarf. Now, the other Freaks, as a rule, are contented so long +as they draw well and don't fall in love. + +"The Living Skeleton knows that he can't expect to live long--most of +them die at about thirty-five--but, for all that, he is happy and +contented. 'A short life and a merry one is what I goes in for,' he +often says to me, and he seems to think that his life is a merry one, +though I can't myself see where the merriment comes in. So with all the +rest of my people. They all seem to enjoy themselves except the Dwarf. +My own belief is that the organ of happiness has got to be pretty big to +get its work in, and that there ain't room in a Dwarfs head for it +to work. + +"I had a Dwarf with me once--Major Microbe is what we called him on the +bills, where he was advertised as the 'Smallest Man in the World,' +which, of course, he wasn't; but, then, every Dwarf is always advertised +that way. It's a custom of the profession, and we don't consider it to +be lying, any more than a President considers the tough statements lying +that he makes in his annual message. A showman and a politician must be +allowed a little liberty of statement, or they couldn't carry on their +business. Well, as I was saying, thishyer Major Microbe was in my show a +matter of ten years ago, when we were in Cincinnati, and he was about as +vicious as they make them. The Giant, who was a good seven-footer, +working up to seven and a half feet, as an engineer might say, with the +help of his boots and helmet, was the exact opposite of the Dwarf in +disposition. He was altogether too good-tempered, for he was always +trying to play practical jokes on the other Freaks. He did this without +any notion of annoying them, but it was injudicious; he being, like all +other Giants, weak and brittle. + +"What do I mean by brittle? Why, I mean brittle and nothing else. It's a +good United States word, I reckon. Thishyer Giant's bones weren't made +of the proper materials, and they were always liable to break. He had to +take the greatest care of himself, and to avoid arguing on politics or +religion or anything like that, for a kick on the shins would be sure to +break one of his legs, which would lay him on the shelf for a couple of +months. As for his arms, he was for ever breaking one or two of them, +but that didn't so much matter, for he could go on the stage with his +arm in splints and a sling, and the public always supposed that he was +representing a heroic soldier who had just returned from the +battle-field. + +[Illustration: "HE FOUND THE DWARF ASLEEP ON A BENCH."] + +"One day the Giant put up a job on the Dwarf that afterwards got them +both into serious trouble. The Giant was loafing around the place after +dinner, and he found the Dwarf asleep on a bench. What does he do but +cover him up with a rug and then go off in search of the Fat Woman, who +was a sure enough Fat Woman, and weighed in private life four hundred +and nineteen pounds. The Giant was popular with the sex, and the Fat +Woman was glad to accept his invitation to come with him and listen to a +scheme that he pretended to have for increasing the attractions of Fat +Women. He led her up to where the Dwarf was asleep on the bench and +invited her to sit down, saying that he had arranged a cushion for her +to make her comfortable. Of course she sat down, and sat down pretty +solid, too, directly on the Dwarf. The Dwarf yelled as if he had room +for the voice of two full-grown men, and the Fat Woman, as soon as she +felt something squirming under her, thought that one of the boa +constrictors had got loose, and that she had sat down on it. So +naturally she fainted away. I came running in with one of my men as soon +as I heard the outcries, and after a while we managed to pry up the Fat +Woman with a couple of cart-rungs and get the Dwarf out from under her, +after which she came to in due time and got over her fright. But the +Dwarf was a good deal flattened out by the pressure, and I was afraid at +first that his ribs had been stove in. It turned out in the end that he +was not seriously injured; but he was in the worst rage against the +Giant that you can imagine, and would have killed him then and there if +he had been able to do it. + +"I knew well enough that in course of time the Dwarf would get square +with the Giant, no matter how long it might take and how much it might +cost. He was as revengeful as a Red Indian. I warned the Giant that he +must keep a sharp look-out, or the Dwarf would do him a mischief; but he +said 'he calculated he was big enough to take care of himself, and that +he wasn't afraid of no two-foot Dwarf that ever breathed.' Of course, +this sounded brave, but my own belief is that the Giant was pretty badly +frightened. I noticed that he never allowed himself to be alone with the +Dwarf, and was always careful to mind where he stepped, so as not to get +tripped up by strings stretched across the path, or anything of that +sort. The Dwarf pretended that he had forgotten the whole business, and +was as friendly with the Giant as he had ever been; but I knew him well +enough to know that he never forgot anything, and was only waiting for +a chance. + +[Illustration: "HIS HELMET HAD FALLEN INTO A TUB OF WATER."] + +"Pretty soon little accidents began to happen to the Giant. One day he +would find that his helmet, which was made of pasteboard, had fallen +into a tub of water, and gone to everlasting jelly. This would oblige +him to show himself bare-headed, which took off several inches from his +professional height. Another day his boots would be in the tub, and he +wouldn't be able to get them on. I've seen him go on the stage in a +general's uniform with carpet slippers and no hat, which everyone knew +must be contrary to the regulations of the Arabian army, in which he was +supposed to hold his commission. + +"One night his bedstead broke down under him, and he came very near +breaking a leg or so. In the morning he found out that someone had sawed +a leg of the bedstead nearly all the way through, and, of course, he +knew that the Dwarf had done it. But you couldn't prove anything against +the Dwarf. He would always swear that he never had any hand in the +accidents, and there was never any evidence against him that anybody +could get hold of. I didn't mind what games he played on the Giant as +long as the Giant wasn't made to break anything that would lay him on +the shelf, and I told the Dwarf that I was the last man to interfere +with any man's innocent amusements, but that in case the Giant happened +to break a leg, I should go out of the Giant and Dwarf business at once. +But that didn't scare him a particle. He knew that he was worth his +salary in any Dime Museum in America, and more than that, he had money +enough laid up in the bank to live on, assuming, of course, that he +could draw it out before the cashier should bolt to Canada with it. So +he was as independent as you please, and told me that if I chose to hold +him responsible for other people's legs he couldn't help it, and had +nothing to say about it. + +"At that time I had a Female Samson. She wasn't the Combined Female +Contortionist and Strongest Woman in the World that is in my show at +present, but she was in about the same line of business. These Strong +Women are all genuine, you understand. You can embellish them a little +on the handbills, and you can announce that the cannon that the Strong +Woman fires from her shoulder weighs a hundred or two pounds more than +it actually weighs; but unless a Strong Woman is really strong and no +mistake, she might as well try to pass herself off as a Living Skeleton +or a Two-Headed Girl at once. The fact is, the great majority of Freaks +are genuine, and the business is a thoroughly honest one at bottom. Why, +if you told the exact truth in the handbills about every Freak in my +show, barring the Tattooed Girl and the Wild Man, they would still +constitute a good drawing attraction in any intelligent community. + +"This Female Samson was a good sort of woman in her way, though she was +a little rough and a bit what you might call masculine in her ways. She +didn't like the Dwarf, and he didn't like her. + +[Illustration: "SHE PULLED HIM OVER TO HER BY HIS COLLAR."] + +"The Freaks were all at supper one night when the Dwarf said something +insulting to the Female Samson. He sat right opposite to her, and she +just reached across the table and pulled him over to her by his collar. +Then she stretched him across her lap and laid into him with her slipper +till he howled as if he was a small boy who had gone in swimming on +Sunday and his mother had just found it out. It wasn't so much the +slipper that hurt him, though the Female Samson put all her muscle into +the operation, but it was the disgrace of the thing; and when you +remember that the Dwarf was forty-two years old, you can understand that +he felt that the woman had taken a liberty with him. However, the next +day he seemed to have forgotten all about it, and when the Giant +reminded him of the circumstance, which he did every little while, the +Dwarf would grin and say that we must let the women do what they liked, +for they were a superior sort of being. + +"One of the Female Samson's best feats was done in company with the +Dwarf and the Giant. She had a horizontal bar fixed on the stage, about +ten feet above the floor. On this bar she used to swing head downwards, +just hooking her knees around it, as all the trapeze artists do. It +looks sort of uncomfortable, but it is nothing when you are used to it. +I had a trapeze chap once who would often go to sleep that way in hot +weather. He said that all the blood in his body went into his head, and +that made him feel sleepy, while it cooled off his body and legs. +There's no accounting for tastes, but as for me, give me a good bed +where I can stretch out, and I'll never ask to sleep on a trapeze bar. + +"As I was saying, the Female Samson would swing on this bar, and then +she would take the Dwarf's belt in her teeth and hold him in that way +for five minutes. There was a swivel in the belt, so that the Dwarf +would spin round while she was holding him, which he didn't like much, +but which pleased the public. After she had swung the Dwarf she would do +the same act with the Giant. She had to be very careful not to drop the +Giant, for he was terribly afraid of breaking a leg, being, as I have +said, particularly brittle; but she always said that he was as safe in +her teeth as he would be if he was lying in his bed. + +"It must have been about a fortnight after the Dwarf was sat on by the +Fat Woman, and a week or more after he had been corrected in public by +the Female Samson, that we had an unusually large evening audience, and +everybody was in excellent spirits. The Female Samson had swung the +Dwarf in her teeth, and after she had let go of him he had climbed up on +a chair just behind her, and stood with his arms stretched out over her +and the Giant as if he was saying 'Bless you, my children,' which was a +regular part of the act, and never failed to bring him a round of +applause, and induce people to say, 'What a jolly little chap that Dwarf +is!' When the Female Samson had got a good grip of the Giant's belt, and +had raised him about five feet from the floor, the Dwarf leaned a +little bit forward and ran a pin into the Female Samson's ankle, or +thereabouts. Nobody saw him do it, but it was easy to prove it on him +afterwards, for he dropped the pin on the floor when he had finally got +through with it, and everybody recognised it as one of his scarf-pins. + +"The woman would naturally have shrieked when she felt the pin, but she +had her mouth full of the Giant, and she couldn't do more than mumble a +little in a half-smothered sort of way. The Dwarf paid no attention to +that, but gave her another eye-opener with the pin. It went in about an +inch, judging from what the Female Samson said when she described her +sufferings, and it must have hurt her pretty bad; but she was full of +pluck and bound to carry out her performance to the end. She stood three +or four more prods, and then, not being able to stand it any longer +without expressing her feelings in some way, she unhooked one leg and +fetched the Dwarf a kick on the side of the head that reminded him that +it was about time for him to get into his own room and lock the door, +and convinced him that there ain't a bit of exaggeration in the tough +stories that they tell about the kicking powers of an army mule. The +kick sent the Dwarf clean across the platform, and the people, not +understanding the situation, began to cry 'Shame.' Whether this flurried +the Female Samson or not, or whether she lost her balance entirely on +account of having unhooked one leg, I don't know. What I do know is that +she slipped off the bar, and she and the Giant struck the floor with a +crash that would have broken planks, if it had not been that the +platform was built expressly to stand the strain of the Fat Woman. + +"It wouldn't have been so bad if she had just dropped the Giant, and +hung on to the bar herself. In that case he would probably have broken +his left leg and arm and collar bone, just as he did break them, but his +ribs would have been all right. As it was, the Female Samson's head came +down just in the centre of him, and stove in about three-fourths of his +ribs. She wasn't hurt at all, for, being a woman, and falling on her +head, there was nothing for her to break, and the Giant was so soft that +falling on him didn't even give her a headache. When some volunteers +from the audience had picked up the Giant and put him on a stretcher and +carried him to the hospital, where the doctors did their best to mend +him, the Female Samson had a chance to explain, and the finding of a +long scarf-pin on the platform, just under the bar, was evidence that +she had told the truth, and corroborated the red stain on her stocking. + +[Illustration: "IT TOOK FOUR MEN AND A POLICEMAN TO HOLD HER."] + +"It took four men and a policeman to hold her, and get her locked up in +her room, she was that set on tearing the Dwarf into small pieces, and +she'd have done it too, if she could have got at him. He had sense +enough to see the situation, and to discharge himself without waiting +for me to discharge him. He ran away in the course of the night, and I +never saw him again. I don't think he ever went into another Dime +Museum, and I have heard that he got a situation as inspector of gas +meters, which is very probable, considering what a malicious little +rascal he was. Well, we have to deal with all sorts of people in our +business, and I suppose it's the same with you, though you haven't +mentioned what your business is. But you take my advice and steer clear +of Dwarfs. There ain't a man living that can do anything with them +except with a club, and no man likes to take a club to anything as small +as a Dwarf." + +W. L. ALDEN. + + * * * * * + + + +_Lamps of all Kinds and Times._ + +[Illustration] +[Illustration] + + * * * * * + + + +_Two Styles: A Tale with a Moral._ + +[Illustration] + +Uffizzi Robbinson was blessed with a very full rich, tenor voice but a +very empty purse and he stood in need of a HOLIDAY. + +So he cut his hair & otherwise disguised himself & went off to Brighton, +and having hired a piano & boy took up his station on the front and +started in to make his fortune. + +He sang song after song, all of them highly classical, in his most +approved style, but his audience being limited and critical, his +prospects looked gloomy. + +A gentle hint from his boy set him thinking!! He DISAPPEARED!!! A shadow +on the blind gave the only indication of what he was doing!! + +Until one evening he reappeared on the front in all the glories of +collar & banjo, sang vulgar comic songs in a vulgar comic manner to a +vast and appreciative audience and lived in clover for the rest of +the season. + + * * * * * + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Strand Magazine: Volume VII, Issue +37. January, 1894., by Edited by George Newnes + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STRAND MAGAZINE *** + +***** This file should be named 10020-8.txt or 10020-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/0/2/10020/ + +Produced by Jonathan Ingram and PG Distributed Proofreaders + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +https://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS," WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +https://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at https://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit https://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's +eBook number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII, +compressed (zipped), HTML and others. + +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks replace the old file and take over +the old filename and etext number. The replaced older file is renamed. +VERSIONS based on separate sources are treated as new eBooks receiving +new filenames and etext numbers. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + https://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + +EBooks posted prior to November 2003, with eBook numbers BELOW #10000, +are filed in directories based on their release date. If you want to +download any of these eBooks directly, rather than using the regular +search system you may utilize the following addresses and just +download by the etext year. + + http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext06 + + (Or /etext 05, 04, 03, 02, 01, 00, 99, + 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90) + +EBooks posted since November 2003, with etext numbers OVER #10000, are +filed in a different way. The year of a release date is no longer part +of the directory path. The path is based on the etext number (which is +identical to the filename). The path to the file is made up of single +digits corresponding to all but the last digit in the filename. For +example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at: + + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/2/3/10234 + +or filename 24689 would be found at: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/6/8/24689 + +An alternative method of locating eBooks: + https://www.gutenberg.org/GUTINDEX.ALL + + |