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diff --git a/44113-8.txt b/44113-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 97f486a..0000000 --- a/44113-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7854 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Strand Magazine, Volume XXVII, January -1904, No. 157, by Various - -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/license - - -Title: The Strand Magazine, Volume XXVII, January 1904, No. 157 - -Author: Various - -Release Date: November 5, 2013 [EBook #44113] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STRAND MAGAZINE, VOLUME XXVII, JANUARY 1904, NO. 157 *** - - - - -Produced by Jane Robins, Jonathan Ingram and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - -[Illustration: "HE SPUN ROUND WITH A SCREAM AND FELL UPON HIS BACK." - -(_See page 11._)] - - - - - - THE STRAND MAGAZINE. - - Vol. xxvii. JANUARY, 1904. No. 157. - - - - -THE RETURN OF SHERLOCK HOLMES. - -By A. CONAN DOYLE. - -Copyright, 1904, by A. Conan Doyle in the United States of America. - - -_IV.--The Adventure of the Solitary Cyclist._ - -From the years 1894 to 1901 inclusive Mr. Sherlock Holmes was a very -busy man. It is safe to say that there was no public case of any -difficulty in which he was not consulted during those eight years, and -there were hundreds of private cases, some of them of the most -intricate, and extraordinary character, in which he played a prominent -part. Many startling successes and a few unavoidable failures were the -outcome of this long period of continuous work. As I have preserved very -full notes of all these cases, and was myself personally engaged in many -of them, it may be imagined that it is no easy task to know which I -should select to lay before the public. I shall, however, preserve my -former rule, and give the preference to those cases which derive their -interest not so much from the brutality of the crime as from the -ingenuity and dramatic quality of the solution. For this reason I will -now lay before the reader the facts connected with Miss Violet Smith, -the solitary cyclist of Charlington, and the curious sequel of our -investigation, which culminated in unexpected tragedy. It is true that -the circumstances did not admit of any striking illustration of those -powers for which my friend was famous, but there were some points about -the case which made it stand out in those long records of crime from -which I gather the material for these little narratives. - -On referring to my note-book for the year 1895 I find that it was upon -Saturday, the 23rd of April, that we first heard of Miss Violet Smith. -Her visit was, I remember, extremely unwelcome to Holmes, for he was -immersed at the moment in a very abstruse and complicated problem -concerning the peculiar persecution to which John Vincent Harden, the -well-known tobacco millionaire, had been subjected. My friend, who loved -above all things precision and concentration of thought, resented -anything which distracted his attention from the matter in hand. And yet -without a harshness which was foreign to his nature it was impossible to -refuse to listen to the story of the young and beautiful woman, tall, -graceful, and queenly, who presented herself at Baker Street late in the -evening and implored his assistance and advice. It was vain to urge that -his time was already fully occupied, for the young lady had come with -the determination to tell her story, and it was evident that nothing -short of force could get her out of the room until she had done so. With -a resigned air and a somewhat weary smile, Holmes begged the beautiful -intruder to take a seat and to inform us what it was that was troubling -her. - -"At least it cannot be your health," said he, as his keen eyes darted -over her; "so ardent a bicyclist must be full of energy." - -She glanced down in surprise at her own feet, and I observed the slight -roughening of the side of the sole caused by the friction of the edge of -the pedal. - -"Yes, I bicycle a good deal, Mr. Holmes, and that has something to do -with my visit to you to-day." - -My friend took the lady's ungloved hand and examined it with as close an -attention and as little sentiment as a scientist would show to a -specimen. - -"You will excuse me, I am sure. It is my business," said he, as he -dropped it. "I nearly fell into the error of supposing that you were -typewriting. Of course, it is obvious that it is music. You observe the -spatulate finger-end, Watson, which is common to both professions? There -is a spirituality about the face, however"--he gently turned it towards -the light--"which the typewriter does not generate. This lady is a -musician." - -[Illustration: "MY FRIEND TOOK THE LADY'S UNGLOVED HAND AND EXAMINED -IT."] - -"Yes, Mr. Holmes, I teach music." - -"In the country, I presume, from your complexion." - -"Yes, sir; near Farnham, on the borders of Surrey." - -"A beautiful neighbourhood and full of the most interesting -associations. You remember, Watson, that it was near there that we took -Archie Stamford, the forger. Now, Miss Violet, what has happened to you -near Farnham, on the borders of Surrey?" - -The young lady, with great clearness and composure, made the following -curious statement:-- - -"My father is dead, Mr. Holmes. He was James Smith, who conducted the -orchestra at the old Imperial Theatre. My mother and I were left without -a relation in the world except one uncle, Ralph Smith, who went to -Africa twenty-five years ago, and we have never had a word from him -since. When father died we were left very poor, but one day we were told -that there was an advertisement in the _Times_ inquiring for our -whereabouts. You can imagine how excited we were, for we thought that -someone had left us a fortune. We went at once to the lawyer whose name -was given in the paper. There we met two gentlemen, Mr. Carruthers and -Mr. Woodley, who were home on a visit from South Africa. They said that -my uncle was a friend of theirs, that he died some months before in -great poverty in Johannesburg, and that he had asked them with his last -breath to hunt up his relations and see that they were in no want. It -seemed strange to us that Uncle Ralph, who took no notice of us when he -was alive, should be so careful to look after us when he was dead; but -Mr. Carruthers explained that the reason was that my uncle had just -heard of the death of his brother, and so felt responsible for our -fate." - -"Excuse me," said Holmes; "when was this interview?" - -"Last December, four months ago." - -"Pray proceed." - -"Mr. Woodley seemed to me to be a most odious person. He was for ever -making eyes at me--a coarse, puffy-faced, red-moustached young man, with -his hair plastered down on each side of his forehead. I thought that he -was perfectly hateful--and I was sure that Cyril would not wish me to -know such a person." - -"Oh, Cyril is his name!" said Holmes, smiling. - -The young lady blushed and laughed. - -"Yes, Mr. Holmes; Cyril Morton, an electrical engineer, and we hope to -be married at the end of the summer. Dear me, how _did_ I get talking -about him? What I wished to say was that Mr. Woodley was perfectly -odious, but that Mr. Carruthers, who was a much older man, was more -agreeable. He was a dark, sallow, clean-shaven, silent person; but he -had polite manners and a pleasant smile. He inquired how we were left, -and on finding that we were very poor he suggested that I should come -and teach music to his only daughter, aged ten. I said that I did not -like to leave my mother, on which he suggested that I should go home to -her every week-end, and he offered me a hundred a year, which was -certainly splendid pay. So it ended by my accepting, and I went down to -Chiltern Grange, about six miles from Farnham. Mr. Carruthers was a -widower, but he had engaged a lady-housekeeper, a very respectable, -elderly person, called Mrs. Dixon, to look after his establishment. The -child was a dear, and everything promised well. Mr. Carruthers was very -kind and very musical, and we had most pleasant evenings together. Every -week-end I went home to my mother in town. - -"The first flaw in my happiness was the arrival of the red-moustached -Mr. Woodley. He came for a visit of a week, and oh, it seemed three -months to me! He was a dreadful person, a bully to everyone else, but to -me something infinitely worse. He made odious love to me, boasted of his -wealth, said that if I married him I would have the finest diamonds in -London, and finally, when I would have nothing to do with him, he seized -me in his arms one day after dinner--he was hideously strong--and he -swore that he would not let me go until I had kissed him. Mr. Carruthers -came in and tore him off from me, on which he turned upon his own host, -knocking him down and cutting his face open. That was the end of his -visit, as you can imagine. Mr. Carruthers apologized to me next day, and -assured me that I should never be exposed to such an insult again. I -have not seen Mr. Woodley since. - -"And now, Mr. Holmes, I come at last to the special thing which has -caused me to ask your advice to-day. You must know that every Saturday -forenoon I ride on my bicycle to Farnham Station in order to get the -12.22 to town. The road from Chiltern Grange is a lonely one, and at one -spot it is particularly so, for it lies for over a mile between -Charlington Heath upon one side and the woods which lie round -Charlington Hall upon the other. You could not find a more lonely tract -of road anywhere, and it is quite rare to meet so much as a cart, or a -peasant, until you reach the high road near Crooksbury Hill. Two weeks -ago I was passing this place when I chanced to look back over my -shoulder, and about two hundred yards behind me I saw a man, also on a -bicycle. He seemed to be a middle-aged man, with a short, dark beard. I -looked back before I reached Farnham, but the man was gone, so I thought -no more about it. But you can imagine how surprised I was, Mr. Holmes, -when on my return on the Monday I saw the same man on the same stretch -of road. My astonishment was increased when the incident occurred again, -exactly as before, on the following Saturday and Monday. He always kept -his distance and did not molest me in any way, but still it certainly -was very odd. I mentioned it to Mr. Carruthers, who seemed interested in -what I said, and told me that he had ordered a horse and trap, so that -in future I should not pass over these lonely roads without some -companion. - -"The horse and trap were to have come this week, but for some reason -they were not delivered and again I had to cycle to the station. That -was this morning. You can think that I looked out when I came to -Charlington Heath, and there, sure enough, was the man, exactly as he -had been the two weeks before. He always kept so far from me that I -could not clearly see his face, but it was certainly someone whom I did -not know. He was dressed in a dark suit with a cloth cap. The only thing -about his face that I could clearly see was his dark beard. To-day I was -not alarmed, but I was filled with curiosity, and I determined to find -out who he was and what he wanted. I slowed down my machine, but he -slowed down his. Then I stopped altogether, but he stopped also. Then I -laid a trap for him. There is a sharp turning of the road, and I -pedalled very quickly round this, and then I stopped and waited. I -expected him to shoot round and pass me before he could stop. But he -never appeared. Then I went back and looked round the corner. I could -see a mile of road, but he was not on it. To make it the more -extraordinary, there was no side road at this point down which he could -have gone." - -Holmes chuckled and rubbed his hands. "This case certainly presents some -features of its own," said he. "How much time elapsed between your -turning the corner and your discovery that the road was clear?" - -"Two or three minutes." - -"Then he could not have retreated down the road, and you say that there -are no side roads?" - -[Illustration: "I SLOWED DOWN MY MACHINE."] - -"None." - -"Then he certainly took a footpath on one side or the other." - -"It could not have been on the side of the heath or I should have seen -him." - -"So by the process of exclusion we arrive at the fact that he made his -way towards Charlington Hall, which, as I understand, is situated in its -own grounds on one side of the road. Anything else?" - -"Nothing, Mr. Holmes, save that I was so perplexed that I felt I should -not be happy until I had seen you and had your advice." - -Holmes sat in silence for some little time. - -"Where is the gentleman to whom you are engaged?" he asked, at last. - -"He is in the Midland Electrical Company, at Coventry." - -"He would not pay you a surprise visit?" - -"Oh, Mr. Holmes! As if I should not know him!" - -"Have you had any other admirers?" - -"Several before I knew Cyril." - -"And since?" - -"There was this dreadful man, Woodley, if you can call him an admirer." - -"No one else?" - -Our fair client seemed a little confused. - -"Who was he?" asked Holmes. - -"Oh, it may be a mere fancy of mine; but it has seemed to me sometimes -that my employer, Mr. Carruthers, takes a great deal of interest in me. -We are thrown rather together. I play his accompaniments in the evening. -He has never said anything. He is a perfect gentleman. But a girl always -knows." - -"Ha!" Holmes looked grave. "What does he do for a living?" - -"He is a rich man." - -"No carriages or horses?" - -"Well, at least he is fairly well-to-do. But he goes into the City two -or three times a week. He is deeply interested in South African gold -shares." - -"You will let me know any fresh development, Miss Smith. I am very busy -just now, but I will find time to make some inquiries into your case. In -the meantime take no step without letting me know. Good-bye, and I trust -that we shall have nothing but good news from you." - -"It is part of the settled order of Nature that such a girl should have -followers," said Holmes, as he pulled at his meditative pipe, "but for -choice not on bicycles in lonely country roads. Some secretive lover, -beyond all doubt. But there are curious and suggestive details about the -case, Watson." - -"That he should appear only at that point?" - -"Exactly. Our first effort must be to find who are the tenants of -Charlington Hall. Then, again, how about the connection between -Carruthers and Woodley, since they appear to be men of such a different -type? How came they _both_ to be so keen upon looking up Ralph Smith's -relations? One more point. What sort of a _ménage_ is it which pays -double the market price for a governess, but does not keep a horse -although six miles from the station? Odd, Watson--very odd!" - -"You will go down?" - -"No, my dear fellow, _you_ will go down. This may be some trifling -intrigue, and I cannot break my other important research for the sake of -it. On Monday you will arrive early at Farnham; you will conceal -yourself near Charlington Heath; you will observe these facts for -yourself, and act as your own judgment advises. Then, having inquired as -to the occupants of the Hall, you will come back to me and report. And -now, Watson, not another word of the matter until we have a few solid -stepping-stones on which we may hope to get across to our solution." - -We had ascertained from the lady that she went down upon the Monday by -the train which leaves Waterloo at 9.50, so I started early and caught -the 9.13. At Farnham Station I had no difficulty in being directed to -Charlington Heath. It was impossible to mistake the scene of the young -lady's adventure, for the road runs between the open heath on one side -and an old yew hedge upon the other, surrounding a park which is studded -with magnificent trees. There was a main gateway of lichen-studded -stone, each side pillar surmounted by mouldering heraldic emblems; but -besides this central carriage drive I observed several points where -there were gaps in the hedge and paths leading through them. The house -was invisible from the road, but the surroundings all spoke of gloom and -decay. - -The heath was covered with golden patches of flowering gorse, gleaming -magnificently in the light of the bright spring sunshine. Behind one of -these clumps I took up my position, so as to command both the gateway of -the Hall and a long stretch of the road upon either side. It had been -deserted when I left it, but now I saw a cyclist riding down it from the -opposite direction to that in which I had come. He was clad in a dark -suit, and I saw that he had a black beard. On reaching the end of the -Charlington grounds he sprang from his machine and led it through a gap -in the hedge, disappearing from my view. - -A quarter of an hour passed and then a second cyclist appeared. This -time it was the young lady coming from the station. I saw her look about -her as she came to the Charlington hedge. An instant later the man -emerged from his hiding-place, sprang upon his cycle, and followed her. -In all the broad landscape those were the only moving figures, the -graceful girl sitting very straight upon her machine, and the man behind -her bending low over his handle-bar, with a curiously furtive suggestion -in every movement. She looked back at him and slowed her pace. He slowed -also. She stopped. He at once stopped too, keeping two hundred yards -behind her. Her next movement was as unexpected as it was spirited. She -suddenly whisked her wheels round and dashed straight at him! He was as -quick as she, however, and darted off in desperate flight. Presently she -came back up the road again, her head haughtily in the air, not deigning -to take any further notice of her silent attendant. He had turned also, -and still kept his distance until the curve of the road hid them from my -sight. - -I remained in my hiding-place, and it was well that I did so, for -presently the man reappeared cycling slowly back. He turned in at the -Hall gates and dismounted from his machine. For some few minutes I could -see him standing among the trees. His hands were raised and he seemed to -be settling his necktie. Then he mounted his cycle and rode away from me -down the drive towards the Hall. I ran across the heath and peered -through the trees. Far away I could catch glimpses of the old grey -building with its bristling Tudor chimneys, but the drive ran through a -dense shrubbery, and I saw no more of my man. - -However, it seemed to me that I had done a fairly good morning's work, -and I walked back in high spirits to Farnham. The local house agent -could tell me nothing about Charlington Hall, and referred me to a -well-known firm in Pall Mall. There I halted on my way home, and met -with courtesy from the representative. No, I could not have Charlington -Hall for the summer. I was just too late. It had been let about a month -ago. Mr. Williamson was the name of the tenant. He was a respectable -elderly gentleman. The polite agent was afraid he could say no more, as -the affairs of his clients were not matters which he could discuss. - -Mr. Sherlock Holmes listened with attention to the long report which I -was able to present to him that evening, but it did not elicit that word -of curt praise which I had hoped for and should have valued. On the -contrary, his austere face was even more severe than usual as he -commented upon the things that I had done and the things that I had not. - -"Your hiding-place, my dear Watson, was very faulty. You should have -been behind the hedge; then you would have had a close view of this -interesting person. As it is you were some hundreds of yards away, and -can tell me even less than Miss Smith. She thinks she does not know the -man; I am convinced she does. Why, otherwise, should he be so -desperately anxious that she should not get so near him as to see his -features? You describe him as bending over the handle-bar. Concealment -again, you see. You really have done remarkably badly. He returns to the -house and you want to find out who he is. You come to a London -house-agent!" - -"What should I have done?" I cried, with some heat. - -"Gone to the nearest public-house. That is the centre of country gossip. -They would have told you every name, from the master to the -scullery-maid. Williamson! It conveys nothing to my mind. If he is an -elderly man he is not this active cyclist who sprints away from that -athletic young lady's pursuit. What have we gained by your expedition? -The knowledge that the girl's story is true. I never doubted it. That -there is a connection between the cyclist and the Hall. I never doubted -that either. That the Hall is tenanted by Williamson. Who's the better -for that? Well, well, my dear sir, don't look so depressed. We can do -little more until next Saturday, and in the meantime I may make one or -two inquiries myself." - -Next morning we had a note from Miss Smith, recounting shortly and -accurately the very incidents which I had seen, but the pith of the -letter lay in the postscript:-- - -"I am sure that you will respect my confidence, Mr. Holmes, when I tell -you that my place here has become difficult owing to the fact that my -employer has proposed marriage to me. I am convinced that his feelings -are most deep and most honourable. At the same time my promise is, of -course, given. He took my refusal very seriously, but also very gently. -You can understand, however, that the situation is a little strained." - -"Our young friend seems to be getting into deep waters," said Holmes, -thoughtfully, as he finished the letter. "The case certainly presents -more features of interest and more possibility of development than I had -originally thought. I should be none the worse for a quiet, peaceful day -in the country, and I am inclined to run down this afternoon and test -one or two theories which I have formed." - -Holmes's quiet day in the country had a singular termination, for he -arrived at Baker Street late in the evening with a cut lip and a -discoloured lump upon his forehead, besides a general air of dissipation -which would have made his own person the fitting object of a Scotland -Yard investigation. He was immensely tickled by his own adventures, and -laughed heartily as he recounted them. - -"I get so little active exercise that it is always a treat," said he. -"You are aware that I have some proficiency in the good old British -sport of boxing. Occasionally it is of service. To-day, for example, I -should have come to very ignominious grief without it." - -I begged him to tell me what had occurred. - -"I found that country pub which I had already recommended to your -notice, and there I made my discreet inquiries. I was in the bar, and a -garrulous landlord was giving me all that I wanted. Williamson is a -white-bearded man, and he lives alone with a small staff of servants at -the Hall. There is some rumour that he is or has been a clergyman; but -one or two incidents of his short residence at the Hall struck me as -peculiarly unecclesiastical. I have already made some inquiries at a -clerical agency, and they tell me that there _was_ a man of that name in -orders whose career has been a singularly dark one. The landlord further -informed me that there are usually week-end visitors--'a warm lot, -sir'--at the Hall, and especially one gentleman with a red moustache, -Mr. Woodley by name, who was always there. We had got as far as this -when who should walk in but the gentleman himself, who had been drinking -his beer in the tap-room and had heard the whole conversation. Who was -I? What did I want? What did I mean by asking questions? He had a fine -flow of language, and his adjectives were very vigorous. He ended a -string of abuse by a vicious back-hander which I failed to entirely -avoid. The next few minutes were delicious. It was a straight left -against a slogging ruffian. I emerged as you see me. Mr. Woodley went -home in a cart. So ended my country trip, and it must be confessed that, -however enjoyable, my day on the Surrey border has not been much more -profitable than your own." - -The Thursday brought us another letter from our client. - -"You will not be surprised, Mr. Holmes," said she, "to hear that I am -leaving Mr. Carruthers's employment. Even the high pay cannot reconcile -me to the discomforts of my situation. On Saturday I come up to town and -I do not intend to return. Mr. Carruthers has got a trap, and so the -dangers of the lonely road, if there ever were any dangers, are now -over. - -[Illustration: "A STRAIGHT LEFT AGAINST A SLOGGING RUFFIAN."] - -"As to the special cause of my leaving, it is not merely the strained -situation with Mr. Carruthers, but it is the reappearance of that odious -man, Mr. Woodley. He was always hideous, but he looks more awful than -ever now, for he appears to have had an accident and he is much -disfigured. I saw him out of the window, but I am glad to say I did not -meet him. He had a long talk with Mr. Carruthers, who seemed much -excited afterwards. Woodley must be staying in the neighbourhood, for he -did not sleep here, and yet I caught a glimpse of him again this morning -slinking about in the shrubbery. I would sooner have a savage wild -animal loose about the place. I loathe and fear him more than I can say. -How _can_ Mr. Carruthers endure such a creature for a moment? However, -all my troubles will be over on Saturday." - -"So I trust, Watson; so I trust," said Holmes, gravely. "There is some -deep intrigue going on round that little woman, and it is our duty to -see that no one molests her upon that last journey. I think, Watson, -that we must spare time to run down together on Saturday morning, and -make sure that this curious and inconclusive investigation has no -untoward ending." - -I confess that I had not up to now taken a very serious view of the -case, which had seemed to me rather grotesque and bizarre than -dangerous. That a man should lie in wait for and follow a very handsome -woman is no unheard of thing, and if he had so little audacity that he -not only dared not address her, but even fled from her approach, he was -not a very formidable assailant. The ruffian Woodley was a very -different person, but, except on the one occasion, he had not molested -our client, and now he visited the house of Carruthers without intruding -upon her presence. The man on the bicycle was doubtless a member of -those week-end parties at the Hall of which the publican had spoken; but -who he was or what he wanted was as obscure as ever. It was the severity -of Holmes's manner and the fact that he slipped a revolver into his -pocket before leaving our rooms which impressed me with the feeling that -tragedy might prove to lurk behind this curious train of events. - -A rainy night had been followed by a glorious morning, and the -heath-covered country-side with the glowing clumps of flowering gorse -seemed all the more beautiful to eyes which were weary of the duns and -drabs and slate-greys of London. Holmes and I walked along the broad, -sandy road inhaling the fresh morning air, and rejoicing in the music of -the birds and the fresh breath of the spring. From a rise of the road on -the shoulder of Crooksbury Hill we could see the grim Hall bristling out -from amidst the ancient oaks, which, old as they were, were still -younger than the building which they surrounded. Holmes pointed down the -long tract of road which wound, a reddish yellow band, between the brown -of the heath and the budding green of the woods. Far away, a black dot, -we could see a vehicle moving in our direction. Holmes gave an -exclamation of impatience. - -"I had given a margin of half an hour," said he. "If that is her trap -she must be making for the earlier train. I fear, Watson, that she will -be past Charlington before we can possibly meet her." - -From the instant that we passed the rise we could no longer see the -vehicle, but we hastened onwards at such a pace that my sedentary life -began to tell upon me, and I was compelled to fall behind. Holmes, -however, was always in training, for he had inexhaustible stores of -nervous energy upon which to draw. His springy step never slowed until -suddenly, when he was a hundred yards in front of me, he halted, and I -saw him throw up his hand with a gesture of grief and despair. At the -same instant an empty dog-cart, the horse cantering, the reins trailing, -appeared round the curve of the road and rattled swiftly towards us. - -[Illustration: "'TOO LATE, WATSON; TOO LATE!' CRIED HOLMES."] - -"Too late, Watson; too late!" cried Holmes, as I ran panting to his -side. "Fool that I was not to allow for that earlier train! It's -abduction, Watson--abduction! Murder! Heaven knows what! Block the road! -Stop the horse! That's right. Now, jump in, and let us see if I can -repair the consequences of my own blunder." - -We had sprung into the dog-cart, and Holmes, after turning the horse, -gave it a sharp cut with the whip, and we flew back along the road. As -we turned the curve the whole stretch of road between the Hall and the -heath was opened up. I grasped Holmes's arm. - -"That's the man!" I gasped. - -A solitary cyclist was coming towards us. His head was down and his -shoulders rounded as he put every ounce of energy that he possessed on -to the pedals. He was flying like a racer. Suddenly he raised his -bearded face, saw us close to him, and pulled up, springing from his -machine. That coal-black beard was in singular contrast to the pallor of -his face, and his eyes were as bright as if he had a fever. He stared at -us and at the dog-cart. Then a look of amazement came over his face. - -"Halloa! Stop there!" he shouted, holding his bicycle to block our road. -"Where did you get that dog-cart? Pull up, man!" he yelled, drawing a -pistol from his side pocket. "Pull up, I say, or, by George, I'll put a -bullet into your horse." - -Holmes threw the reins into my lap and sprang down from the cart. - -"You're the man we want to see. Where is Miss Violet Smith?" he said, in -his quick, clear way. - -"That's what I am asking you. You're in her dog-cart. You ought to know -where she is." - -"We met the dog-cart on the road. There was no one in it. We drove back -to help the young lady." - -"Good Lord! Good Lord! what shall I do?" cried the stranger, in an -ecstasy of despair. "They've got her, that hellhound Woodley and the -blackguard parson. Come, man, come, if you really are her friend. Stand -by me and we'll save her, if I have to leave my carcass in Charlington -Wood." - -He ran distractedly, his pistol in his hand, towards a gap in the hedge. -Holmes followed him, and I, leaving the horse grazing beside the road, -followed Holmes. - -"This is where they came through," said he, pointing to the marks of -several feet upon the muddy path. "Halloa! Stop a minute! Who's this in -the bush?" - -It was a young fellow about seventeen, dressed like an ostler, with -leather cords and gaiters. He lay upon his back, his knees drawn up, a -terrible cut upon his head. He was insensible, but alive. A glance at -his wound told me that it had not penetrated the bone. - -"That's Peter, the groom," cried the stranger. "He drove her. The beasts -have pulled him off and clubbed him. Let him lie; we can't do him any -good, but we may save her from the worst fate that can befall a woman." - -We ran frantically down the path, which wound among the trees. We had -reached the shrubbery which surrounded the house when Holmes pulled up. - -"They didn't go to the house. Here are their marks on the left--here, -beside the laurel bushes! Ah, I said so!" - -As he spoke a woman's shrill scream--a scream which vibrated with a -frenzy of horror--burst from the thick green clump of bushes in front of -us. It ended suddenly on its highest note with a choke and a gurgle. - -"This way! This way! They are in the bowling alley," cried the stranger, -darting through the bushes. "Ah, the cowardly dogs! Follow me, -gentlemen! Too late! too late! by the living Jingo!" - -We had broken suddenly into a lovely glade of greensward surrounded by -ancient trees. On the farther side of it, under the shadow of a mighty -oak, there stood a singular group of three people. One was a woman, our -client, drooping and faint, a handkerchief round her mouth. Opposite her -stood a brutal, heavy-faced, red-moustached young man, his gaitered legs -parted wide, one arm akimbo, the other waving a riding-crop, his whole -attitude suggestive of triumphant bravado. Between them an elderly, -grey-bearded man, wearing a short surplice over a light tweed suit, had -evidently just completed the wedding service, for he pocketed his -prayer-book as we appeared and slapped the sinister bridegroom upon the -back in jovial congratulation. - -"They're married!" I gasped. - -"Come on!" cried our guide; "come on!" He rushed across the glade, -Holmes and I at his heels. As we approached, the lady staggered against -the trunk of the tree for support. Williamson, the ex-clergyman, bowed -to us with mock politeness, and the bully Woodley advanced with a shout -of brutal and exultant laughter. - -"You can take your beard off, Bob," said he. "I know you right enough. -Well, you and your pals have just come in time for me to be able to -introduce you to Mrs. Woodley." - -Our guide's answer was a singular one. He snatched off the dark beard -which had disguised him and threw it on the ground, disclosing a long, -sallow, clean-shaven face below it. Then he raised his revolver and -covered the young ruffian, who was advancing upon him with his dangerous -riding-crop swinging in his hand. - -"Yes," said our ally, "I _am_ Bob Carruthers, and I'll see this woman -righted if I have to swing for it. I told you what I'd do if you -molested her, and, by the Lord, I'll be as good as my word!" - -"You're too late. She's my wife!" - -"No, she's your widow." - -His revolver cracked, and I saw the blood spurt from the front of -Woodley's waistcoat. He spun round with a scream and fell upon his back, -his hideous red face turning suddenly to a dreadful mottled pallor. The -old man, still clad in his surplice, burst into such a string of foul -oaths as I have never heard, and pulled out a revolver of his own, but -before he could raise it he was looking down the barrel of Holmes's -weapon. - -"Enough of this," said my friend, coldly. "Drop that pistol! Watson, -pick it up! Hold it to his head! Thank you. You, Carruthers, give me -that revolver. We'll have no more violence. Come, hand it over!" - -"Who are you, then?" - -[Illustration: "AS WE APPROACHED, THE LADY STAGGERED AGAINST THE TRUNK -OF THE TREE."] - -"My name is Sherlock Holmes." - -"Good Lord!" - -"You have heard of me, I see. I will represent the official police until -their arrival. Here, you!" he shouted to a frightened groom who had -appeared at the edge of the glade. "Come here. Take this note as hard as -you can ride to Farnham." He scribbled a few words upon a leaf from his -note-book. "Give it to the superintendent at the police-station. Until -he comes I must detain you all under my personal custody." - -The strong, masterful personality of Holmes dominated the tragic scene, -and all were equally puppets in his hands. Williamson and Carruthers -found themselves carrying the wounded Woodley into the house, and I gave -my arm to the frightened girl. The injured man was laid on his bed, and -at Holmes's request I examined him. I carried my report to where he sat -in the old tapestry-hung dining-room with his two prisoners before him. - -"He will live," said I. - -"What!" cried Carruthers, springing out of his chair. "I'll go upstairs -and finish him first. Do you tell me that that girl, that angel, is to -be tied to Roaring Jack Woodley for life?" - -"You need not concern yourself about that," said Holmes. "There are two -very good reasons why she should under no circumstances be his wife. In -the first place, we are very safe in questioning Mr. Williamson's right -to solemnize a marriage." - -"I have been ordained," cried the old rascal. - -"And also unfrocked." - -"Once a clergyman, always a clergyman." - -"I think not. How about the license?" - -"We had a license for the marriage. I have it here in my pocket." - -"Then you got it by a trick. But, in any case a forced marriage is no -marriage, but it is a very serious felony, as you will discover before -you have finished. You'll have time to think the point out during the -next ten years or so, unless I am mistaken. As to you, Carruthers, you -would have done better to keep your pistol in your pocket." - -"I begin to think so, Mr. Holmes; but when I thought of all the -precaution I had taken to shield this girl--for I loved her, Mr. Holmes, -and it is the only time that ever I knew what love was--it fairly drove -me mad to think that she was in the power of the greatest brute and -bully in South Africa, a man whose name is a holy terror from Kimberley -to Johannesburg. Why, Mr. Holmes, you'll hardly believe it, but ever -since that girl has been in my employment I never once let her go past -this house, where I knew these rascals were lurking, without following -her on my bicycle just to see that she came to no harm. I kept my -distance from her, and I wore a beard so that she should not recognise -me, for she is a good and high-spirited girl, and she wouldn't have -stayed in my employment long if she had thought that I was following her -about the country roads." - -"Why didn't you tell her of her danger?" - -"Because then, again, she would have left me, and I couldn't bear to -face that. Even if she couldn't love me it was a great deal to me just -to see her dainty form about the house, and to hear the sound of her -voice." - -"Well," said I, "you call that love, Mr. Carruthers, but I should call -it selfishness." - -"Maybe the two things go together. Anyhow, I couldn't let her go. -Besides, with this crowd about, it was well that she should have someone -near to look after her. Then when the cable came I knew they were bound -to make a move." - -"What cable?" - -Carruthers took a telegram from his pocket. - -"That's it," said he. - -It was short and concise:-- - -"The old man is dead." - -"Hum!" said Holmes. "I think I see how things worked, and I can -understand how this message would, as you say, bring them to a head. But -while we wait you might tell me what you can." - -The old reprobate with the surplice burst into a volley of bad language. - -"By Heaven," said he, "if you squeal on us, Bob Carruthers, I'll serve -you as you served Jack Woodley. You can bleat about the girl to your -heart's content, for that's your own affair, but if you round on your -pals to this plain-clothes copper it will be the worst day's work that -ever you did." - -"Your reverence need not be excited," said Holmes, lighting a cigarette. -"The case is clear enough against you, and all I ask is a few details -for my private curiosity. However, if there's any difficulty in your -telling me I'll do the talking, and then you will see how far you have a -chance of holding back your secrets. In the first place, three of you -came from South Africa on this game--you Williamson, you Carruthers, and -Woodley." - -"Lie number one," said the old man; "I never saw either of them until -two months ago, and I have never been in Africa in my life, so you can -put that in your pipe and smoke it, Mr. Busybody Holmes!" - -"What he says is true," said Carruthers. - -"Well, well, two of you came over. His reverence is our own home-made -article. You had known Ralph Smith in South Africa. You had reason to -believe he would not live long. You found out that his niece would -inherit his fortune. How's that--eh?" - -Carruthers nodded and Williamson swore. - -"She was next-of-kin, no doubt, and you were aware that the old fellow -would make no will." - -"Couldn't read or write," said Carruthers. - -"So you came over, the two of you, and hunted up the girl. The idea was -that one of you was to marry her and the other have a share of the -plunder. For some reason Woodley was chosen as the husband. Why was -that?" - -"We played cards for her on the voyage. He won." - -"I see. You got the young lady into your service, and there Woodley was -to do the courting. She recognised the drunken brute that he was, and -would have nothing to do with him. Meanwhile, your arrangement was -rather upset by the fact that you had yourself fallen in love with the -lady. You could no longer bear the idea of this ruffian owning her." - -"No, by George, I couldn't!" - -"There was a quarrel between you. He left you in a rage, and began to -make his own plans independently of you." - -"It strikes me, Williamson, there isn't very much that we can tell this -gentleman," cried Carruthers, with a bitter laugh. "Yes, we quarrelled, -and he knocked me down. I am level with him on that, anyhow. Then I lost -sight of him. That was when he picked up with this cast padre here. I -found that they had set up house-keeping together at this place on the -line that she had to pass for the station. I kept my eye on her after -that, for I knew there was some devilry in the wind. I saw them from -time to time, for I was anxious to know what they were after. Two days -ago Woodley came up to my house with this cable, which showed that Ralph -Smith was dead. He asked me if I would stand by the bargain. I said I -would not. He asked me if I would marry the girl myself and give him a -share. I said I would willingly do so, but that she would not have me. -He said, 'Let us get her married first, and after a week or two she may -see things a bit different.' I said I would have nothing to do with -violence. So he went off cursing, like the foul-mouthed blackguard that -he was, and swearing that he would have her yet. She was leaving me this -week-end, and I had got a trap to take her to the station, but I was so -uneasy in my mind that I followed her on my bicycle. She had got a -start, however, and before I could catch her the mischief was done. The -first thing I knew about it was when I saw you two gentlemen driving -back in her dog-cart." - -[Illustration: "HOLMES TOSSED THE END OF HIS CIGARETTE INTO THE GRATE."] - -Holmes rose and tossed the end of his cigarette into the grate. "I have -been very obtuse, Watson," said he. "When in your report you said that -you had seen the cyclist as you thought arrange his necktie in the -shrubbery, that alone should have told me all. However, we may -congratulate ourselves upon a curious and in some respects a unique -case. I perceive three of the county constabulary in the drive, and I am -glad to see that the little ostler is able to keep pace with them; so it -is likely that neither he nor the interesting bridegroom will be -permanently damaged by their morning's adventures. I think, Watson, that -in your medical capacity you might wait upon Miss Smith and tell her -that if she is sufficiently recovered we shall be happy to escort her to -her mother's home. If she is not quite convalescent you will find that a -hint that we were about to telegraph to a young electrician in the -Midlands would probably complete the cure. As to you, Mr. Carruthers, I -think that you have done what you could to make amends for your share in -an evil plot. There is my card, sir, and if my evidence can be of help -to you in your trial it shall be at your disposal." - - * * * * * - -In the whirl of our incessant activity it has often been difficult for -me, as the reader has probably observed, to round off my narratives, and -to give those final details which the curious might expect. Each case -has been the prelude to another, and the crisis once over the actors -have passed for ever out of our busy lives. I find, however, a short -note at the end of my manuscripts dealing with this case, in which I -have put it upon record that Miss Violet Smith did indeed inherit a -large fortune, and that she is now the wife of Cyril Morton, the senior -partner of Morton and Kennedy, the famous Westminster electricians. -Williamson and Woodley were both tried for abduction and assault, the -former getting seven years and the latter ten. Of the fate of Carruthers -I have no record, but I am sure that his assault was not viewed very -gravely by the Court, since Woodley had the reputation of being a most -dangerous ruffian, and I think that a few months were sufficient to -satisfy the demands of justice. - - - - -"_Happy Evenings._" - - -Ordinarily the High Street fairly stewed with juvenile humanity. But -to-night, for a wonder, the High Street, Plimsoll Lane, Byles's Rents, -and all the adjacent squalid courts and avenues were deserted. Something -more than a mild fog was needed to effect such a transformation out of -school hours. Neither was there evidence, ocular or auricular, of any -hand-organ, or a trained bear, or a free fight enlivening the -neighbourhood. How was it possible to account for the peaceful condition -of the streets? Surely the ordinary denizens of the gutter couldn't be -at school? Well, not exactly at school, but at the school-house. A -ragged little urchin of seven volunteered to be our pilot. - -"'Appy evenin'? Yessir, I'm goin' there myself. I'll show you." - -"What's your name, my boy?" - -"Saunders, sir; but they allers calls me 'Magsie,' all along o' my -twin-sister wot uz named Marguerite." - -"And why isn't your little sister with you to-night?" - -"'Cos she got scarlet fever." - -"Scarlet fever? Good gracious, boy!" - -"An' she died--more'n a year ago." - -"Oh, I see." - -"The lidy wot we calls the Countess 's goin' to be at the 'Appy Evenin' -to-night. Look! That's 'er--see--with the 'at an' the little black -fevvers." - -We proved to be just in time. Several ladies and gentlemen had doffed -their furs and overcoats, and stood smiling at one end of a large -school-room, whilst in the middle some two or three hundred meanly-clad, -but clean and happy-looking, children of all ages under twelve or -thirteen trooped along merrily to the notes of a piano in the corner. - -"This is our overture," explained the gentle-eyed lady with the -"fevvers." "We always begin this way and they seem to enjoy it." She -raised her jewelled finger and the music stopped. So did the -promenaders. There was a silence, punctuated by giggles, as the Countess -observed, "And now for our games this evening. What girls for the quiet -room?" - -[Illustration: A PRELIMINARY SIR ROGER DE COVERLEY. - -_From a Photo. by George Newnes, Ltd._] - -Twenty hands went up instantly. - -"What boys?" - -Half-a-dozen--not more--two of whom were cripples. - -"And the noisy room? And the fairy-tale room? And the toy room? And the -painting room? And the dolls' room?" - -Thus were these denizens of the gutter in one of the most notorious -slums of London granted their hearts' wishes for this evening. As they -made a choice, so they were marched off under the wing of a lady or -gentleman to a separate room, and the music struck up again for a Sir -Roger de Coverley. - -[Illustration: THE COUNTESS OF JERSEY--PRESIDENT OF THE COUNCIL. - -_From a Photo. by Gillman, Oxford._] - -"There is no use," explains one of the ladies, "forcing a child to romp -if it doesn't want to romp. Perhaps its tastes are in quite another -direction--indeed, we know that there are thousands of wretched little -mites in London who pine for quiet and seclusion. Then there are kiddies -who are passionately fond of fairy stories. They could listen to them by -the hour--perhaps by the day--yet possibly outside of a Happy Evening -they never hear one that really interests them. Our girls' fairy-teller -here, I may tell you, has a wonderful gift. She really mesmerizes the -children. Would you like to be mesmerized, too?" - -"With all the pleasure in life," we reply, and the handle of the -fairy-tale room is slowly turned. We may mention it for a fact, and as a -tribute to the lady's powers, that the noise of our entrance is -absolutely without effect on this little audience. Oh, what would not a -pulpit orator, a politician, a lecturer--yes, even a great actor--give -to hold his auditors' minds thus in the hollow of his hand? They see -nothing, hear nothing but the speaker. - -[Illustration: - - _From a Photo. by_] - - A FAIRY TALE. - - [_George Newnes, Ltd._ -] - -"'So, so,' cried the Genie, in an angry voice; 'if that is the case then -you must quickly step upon this strip of carpet.' And he laid a piece of -red and yellow carpet on the ground. - -"'What for?' asked the young Prince. You see, he didn't know about the -magic in the carpet--nobody had ever told him. - -"'What for?' replied the Genie. 'Why, because----' and he told him then -and there. And he put on his hat and stepped upon the carpet, and like a -flash----" - -We stole out at this juncture, leaving the children open-mouthed and -open-eyed, oblivious of our presence and retreat, and ascending a flight -of steps found ourselves ushered into a totally different scene. The -uproar was terrific, which was not surprising considering that a hundred -and fifty boys were yelling at the top of their lungs. - -"Punch 'im, 'Magsie'; 'it 'im on the nob!" - -[Illustration: - - _From a Photo. by_] - - "'IT 'IM ON THE NOB, MAGSIE." - - [_George Newnes, Ltd._ -] - -And "Magsie," suiting the action to the word, actually landed his -opponent one on the "nob." It was a boxing match--presided over by a -peer's son. Physically the combatants were most unequally matched, one -lad being nearly thirteen and the other--my original cicerone of the -evening--only seven. But they equalize these matters at the Happy -Evenings, and "Pokey" was on his knees, while Billy was the possessor of -much pugilistic science. With each fairly-planted blow the yelling was -terrific, but nobody objected; they encouraged it, if anything. What's -the good of being happy if you can't yell? And so the hundred and fifty -yelled. They have a proper contempt for girls. Girls only giggle and -scream. - -[Illustration: - - _From a Photo. by_] - - THE GREAT CONTEST: THORPE'S MEWS _v._ BYLES'S RENTS. - - [_George Newnes, Ltd._ -] - -But the chief event of the evening among the juvenile male section was -the tug-of-war--the denizens of Thorpe's Mews _versus_ Byles's Rents, a -truly Homeric contest, as it would have appeared to Liliput. -Powerfully-built tatterdemalions boasting fully three feet of stature -were matched against a lesser number of giants of four feet six. The -rope swayed now this side--now that--of the chalked line. Was ever so -much sinew built up of stale bread-crusts and fried fish before? But the -Byles's Rents men--pale, perspiring, and panting--ultimately pulled -their rivals across the line and on to their knees pell-mell, and the -ceiling threatened to splinter and send down pounds of plaster upon the -heads of the spectators at shouts over this triumph. It was thrice -repeated, and then, lo! a few steps and the scene had changed and we -were in the dolls' room. - -[Illustration: - - _From a Photo. by_] - - "PLEASE, LADY, MAY I 'AVE THE FAIRY DOLL NEXT TIME?" - - [_George Newnes, Ltd._ -] - -Every year in November there is a brave show of dolls dressed for the -Happy Evenings children at Bath House, Piccadilly, and some of these -dolls were here now, tended, oh, so gently, almost worshipped, as they -are taken out of their cupboard resting-places and dressed and -undressed. - -[Illustration: - - _From a Photo. by_] - - A PEEP INTO THE NOISY ROOM. - - [_George Newnes, Ltd._ -] - -"Please, lady, may I 'ave the fairy doll next time?" pleaded a -golden-haired little child, with an earnest, wistful look. - -"Yes, if your hands are the cleanest. The little girl with the very -cleanest hands shall dress the fairy doll." - -There is a buzz of pleased anticipation, and then a small voice is -heard:-- - -"Oh, Kitie Jimes, will your mother lend my mother your kike o' smellin' -soap next Tuesday evenin', an' you can 'ave our fryin'-pan?" - -[Illustration: - - _From a Photo. by_] - - THE SACK RACE. - - [_George Newnes, Ltd._ -] - -In the girls' noisy room they were playing "London Bridge" and -"Kiss-in-the-Ring," but it was tame work in comparison with the -uproarious diversions of the stern sex below. When the boys' boxing -contest was over they had a sack race, but a small group of youngsters -were observed making for the door. - -"W'ere you goin', 'Arry?" asked a friend. - -"Me? Oh. I'm goin' with Johnson." - -"W'ere's Johnson goin'?" - -"Darnstairs. Johnson's father's a 'ouse-painter, and 'e knows something, -Johnson does. We promised to go an' see Millie White paint in the -paintin' room. You orter see 'er dror a 'orse. I promised to 'old her -cup an' Johnson's 'oldin' her paints. P'r'aps, if you come, she'll let -you 'ave a brush to 'old." - -[Illustration: A GROUP OF ADMIRERS. - -_From a Photo. by George Newnes, Ltd._] - -This is gallantry and this is appreciation of art. Five minutes later, -after seeing the champion of Byles's Rents again victorious in the sack -race, we descend to the painting room to find Miss Millie White (ætat -eight), the celebrated animal painter, daughter of Larry White; the -well-known Shoreditch navvy, surrounded by her admirers. In another part -of the same room we come upon quite an animated group of talented -colourists. Some of the designs done by these children of the slums are -most creditable, and at least their faces are radiant with happiness, -which is the chief thing after all. The articles produced in the -toy-making room are vastly ingenious. Out of the most unpromising -materials--such as reels of cotton and match-boxes, fortified by -cardboard and coloured paper--the most delectable toys are produced. - -[Illustration: THE PAINTING ROOM. - -_From a Photo. by George Newnes, Ltd._] - -[Illustration: ARTIFICIAL FLOWERS MADE BY THE CHILDREN. - -_From a Photo. by George Newnes, Ltd._] - -[Illustration: - - _From a Photo. by_] - - ARTICLES MADE BY THE CHILDREN. - - [_George Newnes, Ltd._ -] - -As the famous chef, Brillat-Savarin, could create an exquisite soup out -of a kid glove and a pint of boiling water, so these tiny artisans -manage to manufacture butchers' shops, chests of drawers, tables, sofas, -Christmas crackers, and luxuriant flowers out of the meanest -ingredients. One of the favourite diversions of the smaller children is -cutting out and colouring fashion-plates, decapitating the heads and -fitting on instead portraits of their favourite "great ladies" of the -Happy Evenings Association which they have found in the newspapers. -These are afterwards stiffened with cardboard and made to stand up in a -group, which at a distance gives a very good idea of a swell reception -amongst the "hupper suckles"--if it did not more nearly suggest a -wax-work gathering at Madame Tussaud's. Two of these figures we -photographed for THE STRAND--Lady Northcote and Lady Margaret Rice--both -indefatigable workers of the Children's Happy Evenings Association. - -[Illustration: LADY NORTHCOTE. - -_As constructed by the children._] - -And what--the reader may ask at this stage--what is the Happy Evenings -Association? Well, it is a body of kind-hearted ladies and -gentlemen--numbering some of the highest and noblest names that you will -find in "Burke" or "Debrett"--who take a pleasure in going down amongst -the slums of London and teaching the slum waifs how to play. For the -London guttersnipe doesn't know how to play. As a rule, he or she can -maunder about and fight and scream and exchange badinage and throw -stones in the gutter, but of true games the gamin is as ignorant as his -parents are of _entrées_ or Euclid. Before the association was started -in 1891 there was no one to teach them the mysteries of battledore and -shuttlecock, sack races, kiss-in-the-ring, picture-books, dolls, and -doll dressmaking. As their motto expressed it, the association, whose -first efforts began at the Waterloo Road Schools, was "to put a thought -beneath their rags to ennoble the heart's struggle." - -[Illustration: LADY MARGARET RICE. - -_As constructed by the children._] - -[Illustration: THE PRINCESS OF WALES AND HER FAMILY--THE PRINCESS IS THE -PRESIDENT OF THE ASSOCIATION. - -_From a Photo. by Wilkinson & Co., Norwich. Published by the London -Stereoscopic Co._] - -The gutters were full--the Board schools after school-hours were empty. -Why not get permission to use these empty Board schools for the little -ones to play in? And so in a modest fashion the first of the Happy -Evenings was carried out by Miss Heather Bigg at Waterloo Road Schools -in January, 1891. The association grew and workers came forward until -now it is one of the most influential, as it is the "smartest," charity -in London. It has for its president that mother of so many little -children--the Princess of Wales; its chief of council is the Countess of -Jersey, and among its helpers are the Marchioness of Zetland, Lady -Ludlow, Lady Cadogan, Lady Iddesleigh, Mrs. Bland-Sutton, etc. Moreover, -the children of the rich are brought to serve the children of the poor, -the example being set by children no less highly placed than the little -Princes and the little Princess at Marlborough House, whose dolls and -toys find their way into the Happy Evenings gatherings. When little -Prince Edward first heard of the Happy Evenings he turned to his Royal -mamma and said:-- - -[Illustration: MRS. BLAND-SUTTON--HON. SECRETARY OF THE ASSOCIATION. - -_From a Photo. by E. W. Evans._] - -"Mayn't I give my helmet and breast-plate? It's such good fun to dress -up as a soldier. I'm sure those little boys would like it." And so a -little gamin was pointed out to us at a Happy Evening, prancing about in -the martial and metallic raiment which had lately enclosed the person of -another boy--the future King of England. - -[Illustration: PRINCE EDWARD'S ARMOUR. - -_From a Photo. by George Newnes, Ltd._] - -Some wag has called these gatherings "Juvenile Parties for -Guttersnipes," and although the secretary naturally resents the terms of -such description, yet perhaps, on the whole, it gives a fair idea to the -average observer of what these gatherings really mean. "We do not, -however, aim at making our Happy Evenings a juvenile party. We try and -make the pastimes of the children approximate closely to those of a -well-ordered nursery or school-room, and the children are encouraged to -vary their amusements on their own initiative, and to choose by -preference those games which involve co-operation." - -[Illustration: EAST-END CHILDREN IN LADY JERSEY'S CHILD-DRAMA "ST. -GEORGE." - -_From a Photo. by W. S. Bradshaw & Sons._] - -Occasionally the elder children get together and arrange -rough-and-ready presentments of historic incidents, such as the Battle -of Cressy, the Execution of Mary Queen of Scots, the Indian Mutiny, -Alfred and the Cakes, the Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers, etc. The -_Mayflower_, in this last tableau, was represented by a large newspaper -boat capable of holding the two feet of one child comfortably. The other -Pilgrim Fathers apparently preferred to wade. - -The picture on page 22 shows a party of East London children in Lady -Jersey's play, "St. George of England," and in their brave costumes they -certainly compare very favourably with any equal body of children from -more fashionable regions. - -[Illustration: - - _From a Photo. by_] - - A DAY IN THE COUNTRY. - - [_Lady Margaret Rice._ -] - -But perhaps the greatest event of the whole year for the children of the -Happy Evenings occurs in summer, when each branch president invites them -for a merry day in the country. Somehow or other the girls manage to -rake up cheap cotton frocks for the occasion of various tints and -degrees of wear--and the boys are carefully washed, brushed, and -patched; and then off to one of the stately homes of England, where they -may romp in the grass or in the woods and pick wild flowers to their -hearts' content. You would scarcely recognise these half-fed, -prematurely old London children in the laughing faces and buoyant forms -of this picture taken at Osterley Park. - -[Illustration: A HAPPY EVENING CONCLUDED--SALUTING HIS MAJESTY. - -_From a Photo. by George Newnes, Ltd._] - -One other picture taken has a special interest as showing that lessons -of loyalty are inculcated at the Happy Evenings. It represents the -conclusion of the sports and games; the boys are seen filing before a -portrait of His Majesty and the Union Jack and saluting as they pass, -while the piano plays "God Save the King." - - - - -[Illustration: THE CONVERSION OF AUNT SARAH] - -BY ARCHIBALD MARSHALL. - - -I. - -When young Lord Otterburn vowed before the altar of Grace Church, 114th -Avenue, Chicago, to endow Miss Sadie M. Cutts with all his worldly -goods, that fortunate young lady obtained a husband of attractive -appearance, agreeable manners, and a sweet temper; a coronet, a -beautiful but dilapidated castle in Northumberland, surrounded by an -unproductive estate, and a share in the family attentions of Aunt Sarah. -In exchange for these blessings she brought, as her contribution to the -happiness of the married state, a warm appreciation of her husband's -good qualities, a dowry which, when reckoned in dollars, touched seven -figures, a frank and fearless character, and a total ignorance of the -importance of Aunt Sarah in the domestic well-being of the noble house -of Otterburn. - -She was not left long in ignorance on this point. She had only had time -to refurnish the whole of Castle Gide, to instal electric light, to -rebuild the stables, adapting part of them to the requirements of a stud -of motor-cars, to take the gardens in hand, and to relet most of the -farms, when Aunt Sarah was upon the newly-married couple with a proposal -for a visit. - -"And who is Aunt Sarah, anyway?" inquired Lady Otterburn, when her -husband handed her that lady's letter over the breakfast-table. - -"Aunt Sarah," replied Otterburn, "is the bane of the existence of all -the members of my family who can afford to keep their heads above -water." - -"Sounds kind of cheering," observed her ladyship. "How does she get her -clutch in?" - -"She proposes herself for short visits, and has never been known to -leave any house where the cooking is decent and the beds comfortable -under a month. She is my Uncle Otterburn's widow, and, having been left -exceedingly poor, exercises the right of demanding bed and board from -members of my family in rotation as often as it is convenient to her." - -"If she's poor," said Lady Otterburn, "it won't harm us to give her a -shake-down and a sandwich or two as often as she wants 'em. I apprehend -she'll make herself agreeable in return." - -"That's where you make a mistake," replied Otterburn. "Aunt Sarah has -never been known to make herself agreeable in her life. In fact, she -prides herself upon doing the reverse. She'll tell you before you have -known her two minutes that she always says what she thinks. And she -won't be telling you a lie." - -"Two can play at that game," said Lady Otterburn. "Most times I say what -I think myself." - -"But you only think pleasant things," replied her husband. "My flower of -the prairie!" - -Now, Chicago is not exactly a prairie, but the young Countess of -Otterburn was pretty and graceful enough to deserve the most high-flown -compliments, and appreciated them when they came from her husband. She -therefore graciously accepted his latest flight of imagination, and told -him to write to Aunt Sarah and invite her to come to Castle Gide and -stay as long as she found it convenient. - -Aunt Sarah came a week later with a considerable amount of luggage, but -no maid. The motor-omnibus was sent to the station to meet her, in spite -of her nephew's warnings. - -"She'll arrive as cross as can be," he said. "She hates motors of every -description, and I don't suppose has ever been on one in her life." - -"Then it's time she tried it," said Lady Otterburn. "There isn't a horse -in the place that could draw a buggy fourteen miles to the depôt and -back and bring her here in time for dinner." - -"Well, you'll see," said Otterburn. "She'll tell us what she thinks of -us when she gets here." - -She did. The powerful motor-omnibus drew up before the door of Castle -Gide--at which Lord and Lady Otterburn were standing to receive their -guest--having completed the seven-mile journey from the station in about -five-and-twenty minutes. The driver and the footman beside him wore -expressions of apprehensive discomfort, and the latter jumped down off -his seat to open the door at the back of the vehicle with some alacrity. - -There emerged a tall and formidable-looking old lady, with an aquiline -nose and abundant, well-arranged grey hair. She wore an imposing bonnet -and a dress not of the latest fashion, which rustled richly. There was a -cloud on her magnificent brow, her mouth was firmly closed, and she -showed no signs of agreeable feeling at arriving thus at her journey's -end. - -[Illustration: "'HOW DO YOU DO, AUNT SARAH?' SAID OTTERBURN."] - -"How do you do, Aunt Sarah?" said Otterburn, hastening down the steps to -greet her. "Very pleased to see you again. Hope the old 'bus brought you -along comfortably." - -"No, Edward," replied Aunt Sarah, rigidly, "the old 'bus, as you term -it, did not bring me along comfortably. I had vowed never to trust -myself to one of these detestable new inventions, and I am surprised at -your sending such a contrivance to meet me. This, I suppose, is your -wife. How do you do, my lady? I shall probably be able to tell better -how I like your appearance when I have recovered from the perilous -journey to which I have been subjected. I should like to be shown at -once to my room. I am much too upset by my late experience to think of -joining you downstairs to-night." - -"Why, certainly," said Lady Otterburn. "I'll take you upstairs, and you -shall have your supper just when and how you please--right here and now -if you prefer it. I want that you should make yourself at home in this -house." - -Aunt Sarah transfixed her with a haughty glare. - -"Considering that this house was my home for five-and-thirty years," she -said, "I think I can promise to do that. Thank you, Lady Otterburn. I -will not detain you any longer. This was the third best bachelor's room -in my day; I know my way about it well. No doubt you have other more -important guests for whom the better rooms are reserved. I will wish you -good-night." - -"My!" said the Countess of Otterburn, on the other side of a -firmly-closed door. "She's a peach!" - - -II. - -The most consistently disagreeable people are not without their moments -of relenting, and Aunt Sarah came downstairs about noon of the following -day in a far better humour than she had carried to her room on her -arrival at Castle Gide. In the first place she had discovered that the -erstwhile bachelor rooms had been converted into a perfect little suite, -with the appointments of which even a luxury-loving old lady determined -to find fault with everything could hardly quarrel. During her voluntary -seclusion she had been made as comfortable and waited on as well as if -she were a rich woman in her own house, and the little dinner which had -been served to her in the privacy of her own bijou salon was far -superior to any meal that had ever been served to her before in Castle -Gide, even when she had been mistress of it. Morning tea, therefore, -found Aunt Sarah mollified, a dainty breakfast served to put her almost -into an attitude of peace and goodwill towards mankind, and a glass of -pale sherry and a dry biscuit after her toilet had been made and the -morning papers read sent her downstairs with the definite intention of -being civil to her nephew's wife, whom she had come to Castle Gide -prepared cordially to hate. - -This frame of mind lasted for several hours. Lady Otterburn devoted -herself to the old lady's entertainment, and, to her husband's -unconcealed astonishment, roused more than once a grim chuckle of -amusement, as she rattled her clever Transatlantic tongue across the -luncheon-table. Aunt Sarah pleased! Aunt Sarah laughing! Aunt Sarah -allowing someone else to monopolize the conversation! He had known her -all his life, but such a spectacle had hitherto been denied him. - -"My dear, you're a marvel," he said to his American countess when -luncheon was over and Aunt Sarah had retired to her own apartments, -still in high good-humour. "You bowled me over the first time we met. -That was nothing. But Aunt Sarah! I couldn't have believed it possible. -I wish I had asked all my uncles and aunts and cousins to see it." - -"You don't know enough to run when you're in a hurry," replied Lady -Otterburn. "You'd find her a real beautiful woman if you all took her -the right way." - -"Well, we shall see," said Otterburn. "You've had a grand success so -far, but the experience of years teaches me that seasons of calm in Aunt -Sarah's life are not lasting. Much depends on the afternoon nap." - -Alas! Aunt Sarah's afternoon nap was a troubled one. It may have been -the lobster salad, of which she had eaten too largely; it may have been -the iced hock-cup, of which she had drunk too freely, that disturbed her -slumbers. Whatever it was she came down again what time the tea-table -was spread in the hall with her usual inclination to make herself -disagreeable strongly in the ascendant, and, if possible, augmented by -the reaction from her previous state of amiability. The first audacious -sally made by her hostess, which would have been received with tolerant -amusement at the luncheon-table, only drew a scandalized glare from Aunt -Sarah, and the ominous words: "I must ask you to remember in whose -presence you find yourself, if you please." - -Lady Otterburn may have been surprised at this sudden change of -atmosphere, but she seemed entirely unconcerned, and took no notice of -her husband's surreptitious kick underneath the tea-table, which said as -plain as speech, "I told you so." She talked with gay wit, but gave no -opportunity for a further rebuke. But Aunt Sarah's twisted temper was -not to be softened by the most searching tact, and her next contribution -to the sociability of the occasion was the remark, "This tea is -positively not fit to drink. In my day Withers would not have dared to -keep such stuff in his shop." - -"He don't keep it now," answered her hostess. "I have it bought in China -and shipped overland. It costs four dollars the pound." - -"I have no doubt it is expensive," retorted Aunt Sarah, "although there -is no occasion to poke your money down my throat. It is the way it is -made. No servant can be trusted to make tea. I always have two teapots -and make it myself. I find it is never fit to drink unless I do so." - -"I'd just love to have you make some for yourself," said Lady Otterburn. -"I'll ring the bell for two more teapots. It's too bad you shouldn't -have it as you like it." - -[Illustration: "I'LL RING THE BELL FOR TWO MORE TEAPOTS."] - -Aunt Sarah, who was secretly rather ashamed of having mistaken -caravan-borne tea for that sold by the village grocer, suffered herself -to be softened again, and became almost amiable when her hostess -insisted upon drinking from the fresh brew which was presently made, and -declared that it was a great improvement on the old. - -"I think it _is_ better," admitted Aunt Sarah. "I may say that I have -never yet met anyone who could make tea as I can. You will excuse me for -having commented on yours, but, as Edward knows, I always say what I -think." - -Edward did know it to his cost. But again he was astonished at the sight -of Aunt Sarah charmed back to good-humour when apparently in one of her -most relentless moods, and with further astonishment he reminded himself -that his experience did not afford a precedent for her apologizing for -any word of blame that may have fallen from her lips. But he had no time -to ponder on these things. Developments were proceeding. - -"You find it a good plan always to say what you think?" asked Lady -Otterburn, sweetly. - -"It is the only honest plan," replied Aunt Sarah. "If everybody would do -it instead of telling lies on all occasions, great or small, there would -be a good deal less hypocrisy in the world than there is now." - -"Well, I guess you are right," said Lady Otterburn. "I guess I'll -commence right away and follow your example. And so will Edward. Now, -mind, Edward, don't you dare to say a single word that you don't mean, -and just you tell your Aunt Sarah exactly what you think as long as -she's with us. And so will I. And all the people who are coming this -evening shall be told to do the same." - -"Eh? What?" exclaimed Aunt Sarah. - - -III. - -When Aunt Sarah came down into the great hall at twenty minutes to nine -that evening she found it full of young men and women who had arrived -about an hour before, and whom she had kept waiting ten minutes for -their dinner. She did not apologize for her late appearance. That was -not her custom. She singled out a young man of the company and said, -"How do you do, Henry? I am pleased to see you at Castle Gide again. You -used to come here frequently in happier times." - -"They were not happier times for me, Aunt Sarah," replied the young man, -rather nervously. "My chief recollection of them is that I was generally -sent to bed before dinner for getting into mischief." - -"Ah!" said Aunt Sarah. "That is the way to treat mischievous boys. And -you don't bear malice." - -"I am afraid I do," said the young man. "I was treated most unjustly." - -"By whom, pray?" inquired Aunt Sarah, beginning to bridle. - -"Very occasionally by Uncle Otterburn," said the young man. "Invariably -by you." - -"Upon my word!" exclaimed Aunt Sarah. "That is a pretty way to talk!" - -"He must say what he thinks, you know," said Lady Otterburn. "We are all -going to play at that as long as we are together. Anybody who is -convicted of an insincere speech is to pay half a crown to the hospital -fund. Here is the box. It contains a contribution from Edward, who told -Lady Griselda that she was not at all late when she came down five -minutes ago. Edward, take Aunt Sarah in to dinner. She has kept us -waiting for nearly a quarter of an hour." - -"Have I got into a company of lunatics?" inquired Aunt Sarah, as she -took her nephew's arm. - -[Illustration: "THERE WAS A REGULAR HUBBUB OF CONVERSATION ROUND THE -DINNER-TABLE."] - -No member of the party with the exception of Aunt Sarah had reached -middle-age. Most of the men were contemporaries of Otterburn's, the -years of whose pilgrimage were thirty. Some of them were married and had -their wives with them, but the majority were unattached, and there were -several girls, some English and some American. Otterburn's grouse-moors -were the ostensible excuse for their finding themselves collected at -Castle Gide, but they were so well mixed that they would probably have -succeeded in enjoying themselves even if there had been no shooting to -occupy the days. There was a regular hubbub of conversation round the -dinner-table on this first evening, and loud peals of laughter, rising -above the din and clatter of twenty tongues all moving at once, seemed -to indicate that Lady Otterburn's game was adding to the gaiety of the -occasion. - -"No," said a demure young lady, in answer to a request from her -neighbour. "I will not play accompaniments for you after dinner. It is -quite true, as you say, that I read music extraordinarily well. I have -always politely denied it before, but I know I do. Your singing, -however, is so distasteful to me that I am sorry I cannot oblige you." - -"I have got a good voice," said her neighbour, "and I have studied -under the best masters." - -"You have not profited by your studies," replied the lady; "and your -voice, so far from being good, is very thin and of no quality -whatsoever." - -"I guess," said a fair American, surveying the company, "that we're a -good-looking crowd round this table. And, among all the women, I have a -conviction that I go up for the beauty prize. I have had to hug that -conviction in secret for a very long time, and now it's out." - -Thus and thus was the House of Truth built up stone by stone, and Aunt -Sarah's position was pitiable. Hitherto she had made her mark in -whatever society she found herself by sheer insistence on her right to -be frankly and critically disagreeable. On any ordinary occasion she -would have had the whole tableful of young people prostrate under the -terror of her biting tongue, and not a whit would she have cared for -consequent unpopularity so long as she had made herself acknowledged as -the dominating spirit of the assembly. Now she was met and foiled by the -dexterous use of the very weapons which she had wielded so long and so -unmercifully, and no arrogant speech could she make but its sting was -removed by an equally outspoken reply. - -Thus, to her right-hand neighbour, a young man with smooth black hair -and a preternaturally solemn face: "I don't know who you are, but by -your long upper lip I should judge you to be a Mortimer." - -"My name and appearance are both undoubtedly Mortimer," he replied, -gravely. "My character, I am happy to say, is not." - -"Perhaps you do not know," said Aunt Sarah, "that I am a Mortimer?" - -[Illustration: "'I WILL NOT STAND THIS INSOLENT BEHAVIOUR ANY LONGER,' -SHE SAID."] - -"I am perfectly aware of it," was the answer. "It would cost me half a -crown to congratulate you on the fact." - -"And may I ask what fault you have to find with the family whose name -you have the honour of bearing?" - -"They are insufferably cantankerous and domineering." - -"Not all of them," interrupted Otterburn, anxious above all desire for -unsullied truth to avert the impending storm which was gathering around -him. "You must not take his criticisms as personal, Aunt Sarah." - -"Pass the box this way," said the solemn young man. "Otterburn will -contribute another half-crown." - -Before dinner was half-way through Aunt Sarah was in as black a rage as -had ever darkened even her Olympian brow. By the time the ladies left -the room she had delivered herself of as many insulting speeches as it -usually took her a day to achieve, and her average output was no small -one. But it was all to no purpose. Her most ambitious efforts, instead -of striking a chill of terror to the hearts of her listeners, were -warmly applauded, with an air of the utmost politeness, and from every -quarter she received as good as she gave. It took her some time to -realize that she was affording considerable amusement to her nephew's -guests, but when she did arrive at that state of knowledge she could -hardly command herself sufficiently to leave the room without doing -bodily hurt to someone. - -"I will not stand this insolent behaviour any longer," she said to Lady -Otterburn when the door of the dining-room had been closed behind them. -"How dare you treat me in this way?" - -"Why, bless me, Aunt Sarah," exclaimed Lady Otterburn, in well-feigned -surprise, "you said yourself that if everyone spoke the truth always, as -you pride yourself on doing, it would be a real lovely thing. We are all -speaking the truth under a penalty, and you are speaking it so well that -you haven't been fined once." - -"Psshtschah!" is the nearest possible orthographic rendering of the -exclamation of contempt and disgust that forced itself from Aunt Sarah's -lips. "I have had enough of this insensate folly," she continued. "I -shall go straight to my room, and if I do not receive more respectful -treatment in this house, where I so long reigned as undisputed mistress, -I shall leave it to-morrow. Do you understand me?" - -"I understand you very well," said Lady Otterburn. "And I will ask you -to try and understand me. The respect which you demanded as mistress of -this house is now due to me, and I look to receive it from my guests. If -you discover that it is not within your power to grant it I shall not -press you to prolong your visit." - -Aunt Sarah again gave vent to the exclamation indicated above, and -sailed up the broad staircase to her own apartments with anger and -disgust marked on every line and curve of her figure. - - -IV. - -Aunt Sarah had never been so angry before in her life. She was an -extraordinarily disagreeable old woman--disagreeable in a masterly, -cold-blooded, incisive way, partly because disagreeable speech was a -genuine expression of her nature, partly because she had discovered in -the course of years that she gained more by being disagreeable, which -came easy to her, than by being pleasant, which did not. One of the -weapons of her armoury was the feigning of anger, and few could stand -upright before her wrath. But for this very reason she had seldom been -opposed in such a way as to make her really angry, and now that this had -happened to her she was almost beside herself with rage. - -When she reached the cosy little sitting-room which had been devoted to -her special use, having closed the door with a bang which re-echoed -along the corridors, she found herself surrounded by just that -atmosphere of personal comfort in which her sybaritic old soul -delighted. A cheerful fire burned in the grate. Before it was drawn up -the easiest of easy chairs. At the side of the chair stood a table upon -which was a tray containing those refreshments, solid and liquid, with -which Aunt Sarah loved best to fortify herself for the hours of -darkness, a collection of papers and magazines, and half-a-dozen new -books. The gay chintz curtains were close-drawn, and the electric lights -behind their rosy shades threw just the right amount of light upon this -pleasant interior. - -Aunt Sarah had often before left a company of people in displeasure and -retired to her own apartment with a bang of the door behind her. But -once shut in by herself the expression of her face had usually changed, -and with a grim chuckle at her own astuteness, and the remembrance of -her effective departure, she had settled herself down with a mind wiped -clean of emotion to the enjoyment of her own society. - -But to-night Aunt Sarah took no delight in her own society, nor did her -angry old face change as she closed the door on the cosy warmth of her -room. It is true that she sat down in the easy chair in front of the -fire. Women do not pace the room in their rage as is the custom with -men. All the same, a consuming rage held her. It had in it a tinge of -helplessness, and it shook her wiry old frame like an ague. Aunt Sarah -was beaten, and she had the sense to recognise it. - -By-and-by she began to feel rather alarmed at her state of mind. -Helpless anger is not a soothing emotion, and Aunt Sarah, in spite of -her well-nourished vigour, was an old woman. It was very uncomfortable -to be so angry, and it was still more uncomfortable to realize that her -power of keeping her own personality in the ascendant had been wrested -from her by "a chit of a low-born foreigner," as she expressed it to -herself. - -When her anger had tired her sufficiently the feeling of helplessness -increased, and sorely against her will Aunt Sarah began to pity herself. -She fought against the feeling of self-pity for some time--she was made -of sterner stuff than those who cherish it as a mild luxury--but it -overpowered her at last. She suddenly saw herself old and, for all her -many relations and acquaintances, friendless--worse than friendless, -feared and disliked. She was also, for the time being, homeless. She had -let her little box of a house in London for the winter, and had intended -to stay at Castle Gide for at least a month. If she carried out her -threat of leaving the next morning she had nowhere to go to, and she was -accustomed to run things so close that she actually had not the money to -take her to some place suitable to her exalted station and to keep -herself there for four weeks. - -Then she suddenly realized that in the depths of her queer, twisted -heart she was fond of her nephew; also that her nephew's American bride -had brought her both deference and entertainment as long as she had -treated her with ordinary courtesy. She also discovered that she had a -sentiment for Castle Gide, which had been her own home for thirty-five -years, that was not wholly dependent upon its capabilities of affording -her the degree of luxurious living which she most appreciated. At this -point something happened which had not happened for fully half a -century. Two large tears trickled down Aunt Sarah's face. She knew -herself for a lonely, disagreeable old woman, very, very poor. - -[Illustration: "SHE KNEW HERSELF FOR A LONELY, DISAGREEABLE OLD WOMAN."] - -When Otterburn came out of the dining-room with the rest of the men he -drew his wife a little aside and said to her: "Look here, old lady, I -don't think we can carry this on. I am afraid Aunt Sarah will have a fit -if we bait her much more. Her eyes rolled most unpleasantly at dinner. -Where is she, by-the-bye?" - -"She has gone upstairs looking mighty ugly," replied her ladyship. "She -is going to express her baggage home to-morrow." - -"Oh, she mustn't do that," said Otterburn. "She has always gone on like -that, and her bark is worse than her bite. You go and calm her down, and -we'll stop this game." - -"We've won," said Lady Otterburn. "But I don't feel very spry over the -victory. She is an old lady, and I guess we'll just have to let her play -by herself as long as she camps here. I'll go up to her right now." - -So Lady Otterburn entered Aunt Sarah's room just in time to catch her -drying the two tears aforesaid and a few more that had followed them. A -wave of compunction passed over her, and she felt that she and her -husband and their guests had all behaved with the most unmannerly -brutality. - -"Dear Aunt Sarah," she said, "I hate that you should be all alone up -here while we are enjoying ourselves downstairs. Won't you come down and -hear Mrs. Vanhooten sing? They call her the nightingale of Cincinnati in -the States." - -Now, if Lady Otterburn had followed the impulse that came to her to -kneel by the side of the old woman and mix tears, she would almost -certainly have been repulsed and would have found Aunt Sarah once more -encased in a full suit of prickles; for, however much in a moment of -weakness that redoubtable old lady may have pitied herself, she -certainly would have permitted no one else to pity her. But Lady -Otterburn was a young woman of considerable tact as well as generosity -of feeling, and her method of approach proved to be the best she could -have chosen. - -"Not to-night," replied Aunt Sarah. "I confess to being slightly upset -at what has occurred, and I do not feel equal to mixing with your guests -at present." - -"I guess we must have offended you with our little game," said Lady -Otterburn. "But we didn't mean any harm, and we have left off playing it -now." - -"It has served its purpose," said Aunt Sarah, slowly. "I have been -thinking matters over since I came upstairs. It is not easy for a woman -of my age and character to confess herself in the wrong, but as far as -you are concerned, my dear, I--I--really think that by showing mutual -respect and consideration we may, perhaps, get on very well together." - -The speech had not ended quite in the manner Aunt Sarah had intended -when she began it, but the habits of a lifetime are not changed in a -moment, and its underlying meaning was, at any rate, clear. Aunt Sarah -had come as near as she had ever done in her life to an unreserved -apology for her behaviour. - -Lady Otterburn was prepared to meet her a good deal more than half-way. - -"Of course, you feel seeing me here in your place," she said. "I don't -wonder. But both Edward and I want you to look upon Castle Gide as your -home just the same as before." (This was not strictly true so far as -Edward was concerned, but it must be admitted to have been generous.) -"And I'm new to this country and to a position to which you were born. -There are so many ways in which you could help, Aunt Sarah." - -"My dear," said the old woman, "any help I can give you you shall have. -But I think you are quite capable of holding your own anywhere, and--and -of adorning any position." - -So the treaty of peace was concluded, and the Countess and the Dowager -Countess of Otterburn spent a pleasant hour together talking amicably of -many things. - -When Aunt Sarah came downstairs the next morning she found everybody -very anxious to please her. The general attitude of the party was that -of people who had committed a breach of courtesy and were ashamed of -themselves. Probably this attitude drove compunction into Aunt Sarah's -soul more completely than any other could have done. She met advances -with amiability, and exercised her fearless tongue and her undoubtedly -sharp intellect to the general amusement rather than to the general -terrifying of the company. By the time that the house-party broke up she -had discovered, possibly to her amazement, that ascendency could be -maintained as completely and far more pleasantly by force of character -combined with wit and good-humour than by force of character supported -by aggressive arrogance alone. - -And thus, fortified by experience of its efficacy, Aunt Sarah's -conversion was permanent. This is not to say that from a most -objectionable old woman she changed at a bound into an exceedingly -attractive one. The simile of the leopard and the Ethiopian still holds -good. But there was an all-round improvement in her attitude towards the -world at large which, whenever she found herself at Castle Gide, was an -improvement which seemed to approach the miraculous. - -[Illustration: "THE TWO LADIES OTTERBURN WORSHIPPING TOGETHER AT A -CRADLE SHRINE."] - -A year after the events of this story, when the two Ladies Otterburn had -been worshipping together for an hour at a cradle shrine plentifully -bedecked with lace, the younger of them said to her husband:-- - -"Dear Aunt Sarah! She has a real loving heart. I guess it was warped by -her never having a baby of her own." - - - - -_How a Chromo-Lithograph is Printed._ - -BY L. GRAY-GOWER. - - -Many readers have no doubt wondered how the vivid and faithful -reproductions of celebrated pictures, with which the public has latterly -become so familiar, are reproduced. There is a vague idea that it is the -result of some occult colour-process that involves several distinct -printings, but exactly what that process is remains commonly a sealed -book. But there must be many readers who know nothing whatever of -lithographic stones and colour-printing. Let us briefly, then, explain -the principle. - -About a hundred years ago a struggling Bavarian printer, Alois -Senefelder by name, having no paper at hand with which to indite his -washing bill, used for the purpose a flat slab of peculiarly soft stone -which he had in his workshop. The ink he used was a rude and greasy -mixture. The appearance of the writing on the stone suggested to him the -possibility of reproducing the writing. His experiments were crowned -with success, and lithography naturally took its place amongst the great -industrial arts of the world. - -If you enter any great lithographer's workshop to-day, like that of the -Dangerfield Company at St. Albans, you will notice huge slabs of stone, -two or three inches thick, ranging in size from that of a large bedstead -to that of a small book. All these stones may be said to come from one -place--Solenhofen, in the district of Monheim. - -At the Dangerfield Company's works the writer seemed to be passing -through a miniature quarry, or through a tombstone warehouse. The stones -arrive at the works in their rough condition. They are prepared for use -by being ground face to face with sand and water. - -The broad principles of lithography consist, of course, in the strong -adhesion of greasy substances to calcareous stone, the affinity of one -greasy body for another, and the antipathy of such bodies to water. When -water is applied to the surface of the stone it remains only on such -portions as are not covered with grease, so that, if a roller charged -with greasy ink be passed over the stone, the ink will only adhere to -the greasy portions, while the moist parts will resist the ink and -remain clean. In consequence, when a sheet of paper is pressed upon the -stone, it only receives an impression in ink from the greasy line. This -is the whole theory of lithography. - -And now comes in the task of the expert colour-master. There has been -growing up of late years a class of experts in colour for whom the -entire National Gallery is only a collection of tints on canvas more or -less adroitly combined. These men are master-lithographers. For them the -most divine creations of Raphael, Titian, Claude, and Turner are -workmanlike colour-combinations, which it is their business to analyze -and resolve into their separate constituents. To-day the dead walls and -hoardings of the kingdom are covered with wonderful posters and the shop -windows lined with gorgeous lithographs evolved by men whose chromatic -perception is so acute that they can tell you at a glance what the great -Turner himself did not know: how many colours go to the making of one of -Turner's pictures. - -[Illustration: THE ARTISTS' ROOM AT THE DANGERFIELD COMPANY'S WORKS, -SHOWING THE LITHOGRAPHIC STONES. - - _From a Photo. by_] - - [_the Dangerfield Co._ -] - -[Illustration: FIRST STONE--LIGHT YELLOW.] - -[Illustration: THIRD STONE--LIGHTEST BLUE.] - -There are very few artists who can say exactly how their colour-effects -were produced, or precisely what pigments were employed to attain -certain tones. They work away, slowly painting and repainting until the -end desired is reached. - -[Illustration: SECOND STONE--DARK YELLOW.] - -[Illustration: FOURTH STONE--LIGHT FLESH TINT.] - -"We have master-lithographers in our employ," said Mr. Adolphe Tuck to -the writer, "who can tell almost at a glance how many colours and shades -go to the making of any given picture, no matter how complex." - -Take the case of one of the most successful reproductions of one of the -old masters, "The Madonna Ansidei," which hangs in the National Gallery. -The colour-master of whom we have spoken quickly resolved this picture -into eighteen colours, involving the use of eighteen lithographic -stones, each printing a separate tint and being of itself almost a -separate picture, until by repeated printings the whole masterpiece was -gradually built up. This is the example of which we present -illustrations in this article, and is the work of Mr. Adolphe Tuck. - -[Illustration: FIFTH STONE--DARK BROWN.] - -But what an eye for colour! What a gift for the realities and essentials -of tone to be able, without any mixings of paint or other analytic -experiments, to divine straight away just what colours are needed, and -prepare stone after stone with the absolute certainty that the -combination would produce such a result! - -[Illustration: SIXTH STONE--LIGHT BROWN.] - -[Illustration: SEVENTH STONE--LIGHT BLUE.] - -To illustrate the almost marvellous capability of the colour-expert in -analyzing the colours of a picture submitted to him, one may mention -that the late Sir Charles Eastlake, P.R.A., once ventured to assert that -there were sixteen colours or shades visible in a picture by Van Dyck. -The lithographic colour-expert declared there were only eleven. -Accordingly an accurate copy was painted at the National Gallery of the -picture, so accurate that it was difficult to discern a difference -between the copy and the original. This was duly analyzed and placed on -the stones, eleven in number, and the eleventh printing disclosed an -exact facsimile of the copy, and therefore of the original. - -[Illustration: EIGHTH STONE--PINK.] - -[Illustration: NINTH STONE--MEDIUM GREY.] - -Sir Charles Eastlake acknowledged himself beaten, and readily paid -tribute to the wonderful analytic powers of an artist, or, rather, of a -scientist, who could not paint a picture but could tell just what a -picture was made of. - -[Illustration: TENTH STONE--MEDIUM BLUE.] - -In the case of the Ansidei Madonna, the canvas was copied at the -National Gallery under the eye of the Director. The first stage of -reproduction was to transfer upon the stone a sort of yellowish-grey -base or silhouette of the whole picture (No. 1). It will be noticed that -the high lights are upon portions of St. John's and Mary's garments and -the mitre of St. Nicholas. - -The picture on the next stone, which is to overlay the first, gives more -detail. - -Gradually these pictures, each done by a separate artist, under the -eyes of the colour expert or master-lithographer, assume greater -perfection, as colour by colour is added, one from every stone, until in -No. 9 one would fain think, as the artist himself may have thought, that -the picture was finished, or at least approaching completion. But, as a -matter of fact, it is only half completed. It is still lacking many -necessary qualities; the reds and the greens and the greys and the gold -have yet to be added. What a quaint enigma is presented by Nos. 11, 12, -14, and 15! Taken by themselves they seem meaningless, but combined with -their forerunners and successors they are seen to be essential to the -finished picture. - -[Illustration: ELEVENTH STONE--MEDIUM YELLOW.] - -In the very final stages the stones are devoted to greys, which by -overlaying one another impart a roundness and solidity to the design -which it would otherwise lack. It may be mentioned that this -reproduction is, according to Mr. Tuck, the most successful, as it is -the most elaborate, colour-lithograph ever attempted. - -[Illustration: TWELFTH STONE--DARK RED.] - -[Illustration: THIRTEENTH STONE--DARK FLESH TINT.] - -In the case of an ordinary colour-drawing the usual method is to -prepare a keystone--that is to say, an outline of the picture, together -with the black or grey portions. It is then marked off into colours, -each colour requiring, as has been said, a separate stone. Of the -uncoloured outline as many copies are printed as there are to be colours -in the finished picture, and each of these serves as a key or guide in -determining in what position on each stone the separate colour shall be. -Each artist then sets to work on his own part of the picture, which is -very often, as will be seen by our illustrations, a picture by itself. -The master-lithographer knows just how many of these pictures will be -necessary to achieve a facsimile. It may be that one colour will -frequently have to be printed over another in order to produce the -precise effect. - -[Illustration: FOURTEENTH STONE--DARK BLUE.] - -For colour-printing the stone is polished. Naturally the order in which -the colours succeed each other is very important, and must be carefully -considered. But perhaps the great object of the maker of pictures from -stones, after the picture in its various phases has been prepared, is to -see that each colour falls accurately into its proper place on the -paper. Nothing is more common, in a badly done lithograph, than to find -in the face of the human subject, say an attractive young lady, the -flesh colour overlapping the collar or the hat, or even extruding itself -out into space beyond the ear. All this implies bad "registering." The -drawing on each stone must be made to fit in, or register, with the -preceding one, so that, as the paper is passed through the printing -machine, the picture is built up colour on colour, each, however, being -allowed to dry before the next is applied. - -In preparing the stone to take the picture extreme care has to be -exercised, for so great is its affinity for grease that even a -finger-mark will become perpetuated. After a drawing on the stone is -finished it is a precaution to coat it with a solution of gum-arabic and -nitric acid, which fills up the pores of the stone in the unfilled parts -and prevents the drawing from spreading. - -[Illustration: FIFTEENTH STONE--LIGHT RED.] - -[Illustration: SIXTEENTH STONE--DARK GREY.] - -Having described the manner in which the picture on stone is prepared, -we now come to the printing of it. To begin with, there is the -"proving-press," which is employed in preparing the stones for the -machine. The gummy solution is first washed off, but sufficient remains -in the pores of the stones to offer a resisting influence to the ink -when the time for printing comes. At this stage the stone is damped and -a roller charged with printing ink is passed over its surface, every -part of the design being brought in contact with the ink. Accidental -grease spots are removed by scraping, polishing, or the application of -acid, otherwise they would develop and spoil the result. - -[Illustration: SEVENTEENTH STONE--GOLD.] - -[Illustration: EIGHTEENTH STONE--LIGHT GREY.] - -When the stone is thus rectified it is subjected to what is technically -termed etching; that is, a weak solution of gum and nitric acid is -applied, which causes the surface of the bare part of the stones to be -gently eroded, and gives a stronger "tooth" to the design. Although the -ink of the design itself may now be washed away and the picture be -invisible, yet it is there, ready to receive any desired colour which -forms the part of the picture. The stones have to be damped and inked -before each impression is taken, but nevertheless the printing proceeds -with great rapidity, ranging from six hundred to one thousand -impressions per hour. - -[Illustration: THE FINISHED CHROMO-LITHOGRAPH: "THE MADONNA ANSIDEI" -(AFTER RAPHAEL).] - - - - -_Sadi the Fiddler._ - -AN INCIDENT IN THE SIEGE OF STRASBURG. - -BY MAX PEMBERTON. - - -Sadi the fiddler, carrying the little black case under his arm, locked -the door of his garret as carefully as though it had contained the -wealth of the Cæsars. It was the night of Monday, the twenty-first day -of September, in the year 1870. Sadi had not tasted food for twenty -hours, and, though he well understood that there was very little to eat -in the town of Strasburg, he went forth bravely in quest of it. After -all, someone might throw him a bone, even though he were nothing more -than a poor, crazy fiddler. - -"Heaven knows they have music enough here," he said to himself, as he -descended the narrow staircase and came out beneath the eaves of the old -houses. This was the thirty-second night since the hated Prussians had -come swarming down from Wörth and had invested the city like an army of -human locusts. There was scarcely a minute by day or night when the -great guns ceased to thunder, or the shots to play havoc with the -ancient streets of gallant Strasburg. Even as the fiddler walked away -from his own house that night a great shell, thrown from one of the -batteries to the north-west, came singing and sighing above him, and -then fell with a mighty crash upon the roof next to his own. It was an -incendiary shell, Sadi hazarded, and presently a tongue of flame leaping -up from the doomed building told him that he had guessed aright. He knew -that his worldly possessions, such as they were, would soon be engulfed -in that raging furnace of smoke and fire; and he reflected with a sigh, -odd fellow that he was, on a picture which he would have given much to -save. Sadi wondered now that he had not brought the picture with him. -Standing there upon the narrow pavement, while the flames licked about -the window of his attic, he remembered the day when Lucy, the daughter -of Ludenmayer, the artist from Bad Nauheim, had given the portrait to -him and had written the words "In grateful remembrance" upon one corner -of it. "We shall never return to Strasburg--never meet again, dear -friend," she had said. He knew that it was true, admitted that she could -be nothing to him--and yet his eyes were dim when he turned from the -burning house and set off to wander aimlessly through the terrible -streets. - -He had never been a rich man, but the outbreak of the war between France -and Prussia robbed him in a day of his employment and left him a beggar. -Nero had fiddled while Rome was burning, but no one in Strasburg desired -to emulate that incomparable artist; and while there had been days when -Sadi might have earned a good dinner by playing the Marseillaise to -patriotic hosts, his pride forbade him and his violin was silent. The -same sense of the dignity of his art kept him from the public -distribution of food ordered by the Mayor and the brave General Uhrich. -He, Sadi Descourcelles, had the blood of kings in his veins. A -philosophic observer might have remarked that it ran thin and sluggish -upon that twenty-first day of September, for he, Sadi, was famishing, -ravenous, desperate with the gnawing hunger as of youth and strenuous -life. He felt that he could commit any crime for bread. He searched the -very gutters with his eyes for any scrap of food that fortune might have -cast there. Such lighted windows as showed to him the tables spread for -dinner or supper moved him to frenzies of desire. Why should some eat -when others were starving? And the Prussians killed all -indiscriminately, he said, rich or poor, old and young, mothers and -children. What folly resisted the right of Bismarck and the Red Prince? -Sadi prayed that the city might fall and bread be given to him; but with -the next breath he was cursing the blue-coats and hoping in his heart -that Strasburg might never surrender. For he was a patriot in spite of -his poverty. - -It was a warm night of September, with a starry sky to be seen here and -there between the clouds of sulphurous smoke which floated above the -ramparts. Few walked abroad, for there was danger in the streets, and -scarcely any cessation of the flying shells which the Prussians hurled -upon the doomed city. Sadi was accustomed to the awful sounds and sights -which accompanied the siege, and they were powerless any longer to -affright him. Even the dead in the gutters--the children who had not -made the war but paid the price of it with their young blood--found him -callous and without sympathy. As these had died, so he would die and be -at rest. He envied them as they lay there--the flare of the burning -houses showed him the white faces and they seemed to sleep. Sadi -believed that when next he slept it would be as these--eternally and -without pain. - -He was indifferent to the danger; nevertheless some little measure of -prudence remained to him, and he walked in the centre of the street to -avoid the flying fragments and the falling timbers. Doleful cries from -stricken houses fell upon deaf ears so far as Sadi the fiddler was -concerned. The warnings of a friendly soldier, who told him that he was -drawing perilously near the zone of fire, he received with a curt word -of thanks. Had the man given him a crust he would have kissed him on -both cheeks; but the fellow was hungry himself, and the two parted -surlily--the one to a beer-shop, the other toward the ramparts. - -[Illustration: "THE TWO PARTED SURLILY."] - -"You can play them a tune, old fellow," the soldier said. - -Sadi answered, "Why so, friend, since the houses dance already?" - -Yes; the houses danced indeed, and the mad music of the guns waxed more -terrible as Sadi approached the ramparts and could see the cannon for -himself. It was just like a display of fireworks in the gardens of the -Tuileries, he said. From minute to minute the dark background of the sky -would be cleaved by a line of fire, which marked the path of an -incendiary shell as it soared above the quivering city and fell in a -shower of flame upon house, or church, or citadel. The hither ground was -a mighty waste of rubble, a desert of rubbish, where a few weeks ago -houses had stood up proudly, and churches had invited worshippers, and -children had found their homes. And all this misery, this untold and -savage destruction, was the work of the hated Prussians over yonder, -where the night was red and the darkness behind it shielded the -assassins. Sadi, in the presence of those who were doing something for -France, asked himself what he had done. The answer was, "Nothing." He -reflected upon it a little bitterly and turned away toward the west, -walking from the ramparts of that unhappy quarter of the city which the -Prussians had destroyed ten days ago and now forgotten. - -The path was desolate--none trod it but Sadi the fiddler, and he -stumbled often as he went. So completely had the Prussians demolished -the quarter that the very contour of the streets was lost and a dismal -plain presented itself--an open field of rubbish, broken here and there -by great abysses which once had been the cellars of the houses. Sadi did -not know why he walked in such a place or what hope of bread it could -give him; but when he stumbled upon an open cellar he reflected that, -after all, the house had been quitted in haste, and that some provision -might have been left in its larders. The bare possibility appealing to -his ravenous hunger sent him climbing down into the cellar like a -schoolboy upon a forbidden venture. Impatiently, and with a strength he -did not know that he possessed, he delved among the rubble, thrust at -the great beams, and wormed his way toward the vault. None would -interfere with him, he argued; there was no law, military or civil, -which forbade a man to share a bone with the dogs. Sadi was like a miser -seeking for his gold; and when at length he stood upright in that which -undoubtedly had been the larder of a house, he felt all the joy of an -explorer who has discovered an unknown city. Unhappily, such a transport -endured for the briefest of moments. Sadi was just telling himself that -he was a very lucky fellow when a great hand, thrust out of the -darkness, clutched at his throat, and the rays of a lantern shining full -in his face blinded him to any other sights. - -"Well, my body-snatcher," cried a voice in guttural French, "and what -may you be doing here?" - -A German spoke; there was no doubt of it at all. Moreover, he was a huge -fellow, probably a Prussian from the North; and although he wore the -uniform of a French regiment of chasseurs, it was ridiculously small for -him and showed its deficiencies when his cloak fell aside. Quick-witted -and mentally alert, Sadi guessed the fellow's business there at the -first hazard. He could be no one else than one of the many Prussian -spies who then found their way in and out of Strasburg so readily. This -desert waste of the city would harbour him surely--perchance he waited -an opportunity to recross the lines, and was hiding meanwhile in this -labyrinth like a fox that has gone to earth. All this passed through -Sadi's mind in a moment, but it was accompanied by a cold shiver as -though icy water were running down his back. For he perceived at once -that the Prussian carried a revolver in his right hand and that the -finger itched upon the trigger. A word, a step, might cost him his life. -Sadi stood rigid as a statue, while the sweat gathered in heavy drops -upon his brow. - -"Come, no nonsense!" the Prussian repeated, menacingly. "You had better -be honest with me. What is your business here? I will give you the half -of a minute to tell me." - -Sadi breathed heavily, but he spoke apparently without emotion. - -"I have had nothing to eat for twenty hours," he said; "naturally I came -here for food." - -The Prussian interrupted him with a brutal laugh. - -"Then you certainly live on vermin, my bag of bones," he retorted, with -a jeer. "Come, your time is nearly up, and my fingers are impatient. You -will really be very foolish if you are not candid with me." - -He raised the pistol slowly, and deliberately touched Sadi's forehead -with the cold barrel. The lantern's light showed a hard face and small -eyes set above puffy cheeks. He wore a moustache in the French fashion -and an uncouth imperial, which added to his grotesque appearance. Sadi -knew that such a man would think it no greater crime to shoot a -Frenchman than to drown a dog. Heroically as he had philosophized about -death ten minutes ago, the nearer presence of it was very dreadful to -him. He could imagine the sting of the bullet as it crashed through his -forehead, the sudden giddiness, the voice which said, "Never again shall -you speak, or breathe, or look up to the sun." A desperate desire of -life came to him. He trembled violently, pressed his hand to his heart, -but could not utter a single word. The Prussian watched him without -compassion. He began to count ironically, "One, two, three," he said; "I -will count ten, _canaille_," and he started off from the beginning -again. He was at the number "five" when a second voice in the cellar -caused him to turn sharply upon his heel and then to salute in the rigid -German fashion. - -"Ah, Herr Lieutenant, here is a job for you," he exclaimed, as though -glad to be quit of the responsibility. "I found this rat in the hole -here. Look at him for yourself and see what kind of a rogue he is." - -The new-comer was quite a youth, a fair, freckled German lad, in little -more than his twentieth year. He, too, wore a French uniform, but it was -that of the artillery, and Sadi observed that it was a better fit than -the loose clothes of the rough customer who had just been threatening -him. Such trifling facts occupied the fiddler's mind to the exclusion of -all else. He believed that he was about to die, and yet could count the -buttons on the lieutenant's tunic, guess at the State he came from, and -hazard the colour of his eyes. The lad was a Bavarian, he said, a merry, -laughing youngster. Impossible to believe that he would sanction a -brutal murder. Sadi breathed quickly--he appealed to the lad's sympathy -in an earnest, manly voice. - -[Illustration: "HE RAISED THE PISTOL SLOWLY."] - -"Herr Lieutenant, it is nothing of the kind," he protested; "I am a poor -wretch of a fiddler, whose garret your people have just burned." - -It was not a wise thing to have said, and the young soldier's -interruption told Sadi as much. - -"My people, sir!" he cried, sharply, and with feigned astonishment. -"What people do you mean, then?" - -"It is as I say," interrupted the trooper; "he is a spy who has tracked -us to our hole, Herr Lieutenant. Better make an end of him while there -is time." - -"But not with a pistol, trooper," retorted the boy, with a little laugh. -"At least, let us sup first." - -Sadi breathed again, while the two Prussians discussed the pros and cons -in a low voice. "If these men would but quarrel!" was his idea. They, -however, had no intention of doing anything of the kind, for presently -they ceased to wrangle, and the young soldier exclaimed, with some -severity:-- - -"You say that you are a fiddler. What proofs of that can you give us?" - -"My fiddle," answered Sadi, almost joyously; "you will find it on the -stones upstairs, sir." - -The answer surprised the men very much. - -"Go and look for it, trooper," said the officer, quietly; "there is -plenty of time before daylight to settle this fellow's affair. Besides, -the captain is fond of a little music." - -The trooper clambered up out of the cellar at the word of command, while -the lieutenant calmly lighted a cigar and surveyed Sadi with an ironical -glance. - -"Poor business, yours, just now, is it not?" he asked. - -"So poor that I am starving," said Sadi, with dignified simplicity. - -"Ah! And you look for your supper on the dust-heaps. Just like a -fiddler." - -"I have walked to the ramparts and back every evening for three years," -rejoined Sadi, whose self-possession remained to him. "The habit clings -to me; besides, what is the harm?" he asked. - -"The captain will teach you that; don't let me deceive you at all; he -will certainly shoot you, old fellow. For myself, I am sensitive; it is -my weakness to prefer live bodies to dead ones. I could not--no, I could -not harm a fly, my Stradivarius. That is why you are now allowed to say -your prayers." - -His own humour amused him, and presently he continued:-- - -"But perhaps you do not want to say your prayers, my Amati. Other people -generally do that when Frenchmen are fiddling. Here is your violin, I -see. Let us play it together." - -The trooper returned while he spoke, carrying the frayed black leather -case which stood for all that life could give to Sadi Descourcelles. -When the lieutenant seized upon it with rough hands it was as though -someone had struck Sadi a blow. - -"Gently, for Heaven's sake, sir," he cried. "Do you know that my fiddle -is worth five thousand francs?" - -"To us possibly a good deal more," retorted the lieutenant, -uncompassionately. "The captain shall read your music, my little -Paganini. This way, if you please, and mind your precious neck if you -prefer pistols." - -It was the lieutenant's evident idea that the violin-case contained the -private papers of a common spy, who had fallen by some lucky chance into -the hands of the very men he would have betrayed to the French. Proud at -the capture, and confident of applause from his superior officers, he -now pushed Sadi across the cellar in which they stood to a door upon the -far side of it, whence a flight of steps led downward to a second -cellar, more spacious and less encumbered. Here candles burned upon a -rude table, a fire flickered upon a tiled hearth, and burly figures -moved about a copper, whence a fragrant smell diffused itself. Sadi -perceived at once that he had been conducted into a very nest of -Prussians. He had no doubt whatever that these were the men who had been -carrying news of Strasburg to the Red Prince since the siege began; -their startled exclamations when the door opened, the quick exchange of -sign and counter-sign, left no other conclusion possible. And he -understood what he had to hope from them--he, who knew their secret and -could, by a word, bring a rabble there which would tear them limb from -limb. - -The trooper thrust Sadi forward toward the fire, while coarse, stubbly -faces peered into his own, and more than one hand reached out for a -candle to examine him more closely. To the hurried questions: "Whom have -you here; what cattle is this?" the lieutenant answered, simply: "I must -see the captain; please to wake him." In a tense interval, during which -someone entered a lunette of the cellar and touched a sleeping figure -upon the shoulder, the ruffian by the copper asked Sadi if he were -hungry, and, being answered "Yes," he took a ladleful of the boiling -soup and poured it over the prisoner's fingers. Sadi cried out sharply; -but before the act could be repeated a burly man strode out of the -alcove and gave the fellow a box on the ear which sounded like a -pistol-shot. - -"What do you mean by that, sergeant?" the new-comer asked. - -"A spy from the ramparts. I was keeping him warm, Herr Captain," was the -answer. - -"But this is no spy; this is Sadi the fiddler." - -Sadi turned with a cry of joy. - -"Ludenmayer! You, my friend!" he exclaimed. - -"Sadi! Old Sadi the fiddler! Impossible!" - -"Indeed, it is possible. Old Sadi, as you say, and so hungry that he -could eat the bones off your dishes." - -"Then he shall sup with us. A hungry man makes friends with strange -company, and we are that, as you guess, Maître Sadi. Come, sergeant, -fill our friend a bowl of soup. Let him spy out that to begin with. Eh, -Sadi, you will not refuse a bowl of soup even from the Prussians? Then -let us see you fall to. We can talk of old friends afterwards." - -There were some murmurs at this from the men about the table, but the -sergeant obeyed the order sullenly, and a bowl of the hot soup was set -before the astonished Sadi almost before he had realized that a lucky -accident had saved his life--for the moment, at any rate. Ludenmayer, -honestly glad to see an old acquaintance, even under such circumstances, -began to assure the rest that they had nothing to fear from Sadi; but at -this the fiddler put down his spoon and flatly contradicted his friend. - -"Not so," he said, blandly; "if it were in my power I would hang the lot -of you!" - -They laughed at him now--laughed at him for a foolish crank, airing his -absurd patriotism even at the pistol's mouth. While some of them said -that he would soon have Prussians enough for his neighbours in -Strasburg, others promised the city twenty, thirty, forty hours of her -freedom. - -"And we shall have you for our guest, friend Sadi," Ludenmayer said, -affably. "We like you so much that we cannot part with you. No, we must -certainly keep you until the Red Prince comes in; after that we will -send you to Munich to fiddle at the opera. Eh, my boy, there's a -career--to scrape this new Wagner stuff and hear the madmen say that you -are a genius. Will you come to Munich and see little Lucy again? I know -that you will, Sadi." - -Sadi sighed, but did not answer his friend. If the name of Lucy were a -sweet remembrance to him, this promise of Strasburg's surrender and of -the humiliation it must put upon France cut him to the quick. These men -about him, jesting in the face of death, defiant of all risks--how much, -perchance, they had done in the terrible weeks of the siege to bring -about this inevitable cataclysm and the ruin and death which attended -it! Their reward would be promotion and applause from those who had -contrived France's misfortunes. None would punish them, none bring them -to account, Sadi reflected bitterly; and, reflecting, he asked himself -of a sudden if he were not the appointed agent--he, the humble fiddler, -sent there by the chances of the night to discover and, it might be, to -betray them. - -[Illustration: "IF IT WERE IN MY POWER I WOULD HANG THE LOT OF YOU."] - -The idea came to him quite unexpectedly while the Prussians were at -their supper. In another he would have scoffed at it, but Sadi had long -been fretting upon his own uselessness and the poor part he had played -at the time of his country's need; and now it came to him as in a flash -that this was the appointed hour. That he would lose his own life in the -endeavour to give these men up to France he was quite convinced; but -this contemplation of sacrifice pleased him, and there was but one -regret--that he could do nothing which would not wound the father of her -he had so greatly loved. Yes, if he could call Frenchmen to this -hiding-place they would spare none, and Ludenmayer would perish with the -others. Sadi said that many a daughter mourned a father in Strasburg -that day--why should little Lucy be spared? And yet he could not bring -himself to harm his old friend. Did he not owe his life to him? - -It was a strange scene--the big cellar lighted by guttering candles, the -red fire flickering upon the hearth, and the sombre figures of the burly -Prussians lolling over their dishes or their pipes. From time to time -one or other would quit the place stealthily, returning anon with news -from the ramparts or the streets. The young lieutenant disappeared -altogether toward midnight, and Sadi knew that he had re-crossed the -lines while his friends were pledging him in giant bumpers of champagne. -As the hours went on the hilarity became reckless and, as it seemed to -Sadi, even dangerous. Ludenmayer called for silence more than once, but -the men, warmed with the wine, obeyed him reluctantly, and were soon -talking and laughing again. It was at the height of such an outburst -that Sadi touched his friend upon the shoulder and bethought him of the -very first lie he had told in all his life. - -"Did you say good-bye to the Herr Lieutenant?" he asked, in a low voice; -and then continued, "I hope so, for you will never see him again, friend -Ludenmayer." - -The captain, who had been squatting upon a heap of straw by Sadi's side, -laughed a little incredulously, but his nervousness was evident when he -asked:-- - -"And why should we not see him again, Sadi?" - -"Because they know where he will recross to-night." - -"They know! Who knows, then?" - -[Illustration: "I CAME HERE TO WARN YOU."] - -"Levoire and the staff. It is rumoured that you are hiding in the ruins. -I came here to warn you--you alone, mind, not the others." - -He raised a finger as much as to say, "This is the compact between us." -The Prussians round about were playing cards and dominoes, and -quarrelling over their games. Ludenmayer, fallen serious in a moment, -seemed to be turning over Sadi's words in his mind. Presently he said:-- - -"Levoire was a friend of yours, I think?" - -"I had the honour to be instructor to his wife." - -"Then she was your informant?" - -He had put the idea into Sadi's head, and the fiddler seized upon it -with avidity. - -"We need not go into that. If you doubt her information, prove it for -yourself. Your friends here are scarcely capable." - -"That is true, the cattle. They think that their work is over. I must -certainly go, Sadi--and take you with me." - -"Not so, Ludenmayer; I must have nothing to do with it. Besides, I am -very comfortable here." - -"For the time being, yes. But if anything should happen to me, they -would assuredly hang you, friend Sadi." - -"I will take my chances, Ludenmayer. Remember, it is you alone that I -wish to serve. They will at least respect your orders." - -"Give them your word to be silent, and they will let you go away at -once. There is nothing easier, Sadi." - -"For a Prussian, perhaps--for me, no. We have been comrades--let that -suffice, Ludenmayer. A wise man would go at once." - -The eyes of the two met, and the Prussian seemed to read something of -this odd fellow's purpose in his dilated pupils and the stern, set -expression of his mouth. It came to Ludenmayer that he and the -gregarious dozen of spies with him were already in a trap from which -haste alone would save them. This simple old fiddler knew much more than -he would tell. Ludenmayer, trained to selfishness by his occupation, -cared nothing for that which happened to the others if he could save his -own skin. He was grateful to Sadi, and he wrung his hand. - -"Well," he said, in a louder voice, for all to hear, "I must certainly -be off, but I shall not be away long. Do not spare the bottle, Sadi. And -mind you treat him well," he added, turning to the company, "for he is -my guest." - -The men stood to the salute mechanically, and the sentry in the passage -whispering that the road was clear, Ludenmayer left the cellar with a -last word in Sadi's ear. - -"Take care of yourself," he said; "they are in an ugly mood." - -Sadi nodded his head confidently, but his heart beat quicker when the -door was shut, and he looked a little eagerly into the faces of the crew -as though he would learn their purpose now that the captain was gone. It -could not be very long, he argued, before Ludenmayer discovered the -trick which had been played upon him and returned to charge him with it. -As to the Prussians about him, some were already steeped with wine, and -they lay sprawling like animals in the straw; others, and the cook was -among the number of these, eyed their captain's guest suspiciously and -discussed him in low voices. Sadi knew that his life hung upon a thread; -but when a great ruffian drew a revolver and loaded it deliberately the -fiddler was not afraid. "They will not shoot me," he said to himself; -"they would be afraid of the noise." What he feared was the rope and the -hook in the beam above, but he did not confess it by his looks; and -turning from them with a laugh he buried his head in the straw and -pretended to sleep. Soon the others imitated him, and the heavy -breathing of tired men echoed through the cellar. - -Sadi lay for a long while without any other idea than that of his own -danger and the fate which awaited him if Ludenmayer did not come back. -He had caught up the precious fiddle which the captain returned to him, -and he hugged it to him as the one possession left to him in the world. -Silent as the place was, the broken roof admitted sounds of the later -night, the blare of bugles, and the booming of the shells. Sadi wondered -what those distant troops would say if a man should go to them and cry, -"The cellars by the old church of St. Gervais are full of Prussian -spies; you will find them sleeping there." Could he but send that -message, at least one of the wrongs of those bitter days would be -avenged. And yet how impotent he was! The desert waste of land above -would be without one living soul at such an hour; and he knew that any -attempt to quit the cellar would bring instant death upon him. Sadi, -convinced of the hopelessness of his idea, lay very still and counted -the dreary hours. For a time he slept; and when he awoke it was the -sentry's voice which aroused him. The man had come down to warn his -comrades. A regiment of the line marched out to the assistance of the -gunners at Lunette 53--you could hear their heavy tramping as they -crossed the old road, now lumbered over with stones and the rubble of -the tumbled houses. There would be many, very many of them, the ear -said. Sadi alone amongst those who listened to the footsteps did not -tremble or turn pale. He was unloosing his fiddle in its case. None saw -him or thought of him in that tragic moment. "For France!" he said, and -he believed it was the last word he would ever utter. - -The alarm cried softly in the cellar found stupid ears and men but -half-awakened from a drunken sleep. Some of the Prussians sat up with -hush words upon their lips; others simply lay and listened--a regiment -was marching past certainly, but what of that? They had but to lie close -and to douse the lights (which they were quick to do) and their safety -was assured. This they believed when sudden music, loud and distinct, -sent them leaping to their feet and crying for their swords. Someone -played the "Wacht am Rhein" at their very elbows--a voice roared "Shoot -the fiddler down"--another voice cried out for a light. It was the -supreme moment in the life of Sadi the fiddler. Never had he played so -wildly or with such delight of his notes. And the darkness, he said, -might yet save him. Dodging here, ducking there, he plunged into the -passage and went on headlong toward the light. But he never ceased to -play the "Wacht am Rhein" when he could stand a moment to breathe, and -the bullets singing by him, the sword-thrusts aimed at him, did but make -him play the louder. - -[Illustration: "HE NEVER CEASED TO PLAY THE 'WACHT AM RHEIN.'"] - -Sadi gained the ruins above with a great gash upon his cheek and his -precious fiddle cleaved in half by a cut from a Prussian sword. Up in -the open his eyes beheld a glad sight. A regiment of infantry stood at -the halt not twenty paces from him. Its officers were moving about as -though in quest of some mystery, and when they perceived him they -advanced a little curiously and bade the fiddler halt. He answered them -in words which were almost incoherent. "The ruins are full of -Prussians," he said, and pointed downwards to the cellars he had left. -No other word was spoken or needed. Savagely, silently, as beasts of -prey that have found quarry, the soldiers fixed their bayonets and began -to go down. And Sadi stood entranced, listening to the cries of men in -their death agony, to their prayers for mercy; and he said, "This wrong -at least is avenged." - -And so he turned from the scene, with his poor broken fiddle, and the -long day of loneliness before him. - -"I shall not play in Munich; I shall never see little Lucy again," he -said. But he knew that he had done his duty, and his step was firmer -when he set out again for the terrible streets of a city about to open -its gates to the enemy. - - - - -_Prince Henry's Beast Book._ - - -The many thousands who have laughed over the inimitable Artemus Ward's -essays in natural history, such as "The elephant has four legs--one on -each corner; he eats hay and cakes," might little suspect the analogy -which exists between these humorous trifles and the serious works of the -zoological pundits of the seventeenth century. If anything, far greater -is the humour to be extracted from the older writers; especially when we -recollect that their books and treatises on animal creation were -regarded with infinite respect--veneration even--by young and old, wise -and unwise, noble and plebeian, who diligently consulted them. - -Unhappily, most of these productions are in Latin, and even Artemus Ward -in Latin would probably lose the fine savour of merriment by which his -good things are distinguished unless the translator relied upon puns, as -they do in the Westminster plays. But the pictures in Aldrovandus, in -Albertus Magnus, in Johannes Jonstonus, and in Conrad Gesner -speak--shall we not rather say, shriek?--for themselves; and we were -recently fortunate in coming across a large volume in which the best in -all these books is gathered together, with English letterpress, for the -benefit of a young English prince who lived and died early in the -seventeenth century. It was in 1607 that Edward Topsell published his -version of "Four-footed Beastes." Gesner's _chef d'oeuvre_ and those -of the other writers named had been on the bookshelves for many years. - -The volume in question belonged to the eldest son and heir of James I., -and has his coat of arms on the cover. Next, it enjoys the distinction -of having some of the plates coloured by the Royal hand, its owner being -then in his thirteenth year. But, best of all, its pictures and -letterpress describe for us beyond the possibility of error, and in the -clearest and most perspicuous way, the wonderful quadrupeds which -flourished on the face of the earth in Prince Henry's boyhood. - -Beside this curious volume how tame are even the most interesting of -modern natural history books! Let us begin with the king of beasts. - -"Lyons bones have no marrow in them and are so hard that they will -strike fire. Their neck is made of one stiffe bone, without any -vertebras. They have five claws on the hinder feet and the balls of -their eyes are black. Lyons eat but once in two days and drink in like -manner. Formerly in England a Lyon could tell noble blood from base." - -Can it be that this virtue was confined merely to the lions caged in the -Heralds' College? Our Beast Booke goes on to inform us that in certain -districts lions were killed, not with spears or cannon-balls, but "with -the _powder of decayed fish_." From whence may we not have a faint -glimmering of the reason why Jamrach's was originally situated so much -nearer to Billingsgate Market than to Piccadilly? - -[Illustration: "THERE IS A VARIETY OF LYON WITH HUMAN FACES."] - -"There is a variety of Lyon with human faces. As for the rest, the taile -of a Lyon is very long, which they shake oftentimes, and by beating -their sides therewith they provoke themselves to fight. The nether part -of this taile is full of hairs and gristles, and some are of opinion -that there is therein a little sting wherewithall the Lyon pricketh -itselfe." - -"The Lamia is a wild Beast, having several parts outwardly resembling -an Oxe and inwardly a mule. The Lamia has a woman's face and very -beautifull, also very large and comely shapes such as cannot be imitated -by the art of any painter, having a very excellent colour in their -fore-parts without wings, and no other voice but hissing like Dragons; -but they are the swiftest of foot of all earthly beasts, so as none can -escape them by running." - -[Illustration: "THE LAMIA HAS A WOMAN'S FACE AND VERY BEAUTIFULL."] - -The chief prey of the Lamia was, it appears, members of the human -species, preferably males. By its passing beauty (or, to judge by the -pictorial illustration, one would say rather by its amazing novelty) it -would entice men, and when they had "come neare, devoure and kill them." -In fact, these lamias were so inordinately fond of their favourite -refreshment that in one district "a certain crooked place in Libia neare -the Sea-shore full of sand was like to a sandy Sea and all the neighbor -places thereunto are deserts." A painful and humiliating lack of men has -often been noticed at our modern seaside resorts. - -"The hinder parts of this beast," concludes our author, "are like unto a -goate, his fore-legs like a Beares and his body scaled all over like a -Dragon." - -Next is a contemporary picture of a Tiger. - -[Illustration: A TIGER.] - -And now we come to the Wolf. His custom in those halcyon days of natural -history was, as now, to go in troops. But we read: "Their necks are -pressed together, so that they cannot stir it, to look about, but they -must move their whole bodies. They fall upon their prey, devouring hair, -bones and all. When they are to fight in great herds they fill their -bellies with earth." But this is as nothing. "When they are to pass over -Rivers, they joyn tails; loaded with that weight they are not easily -thrown down and the floods can hardly carry them away, being joined -together. The breath of a Wolf is so fiery, that it will melt and -consume the hardest bone in his stomack." - -We have all of us heard of the Harpy. Below is a likeness of one that -speaks for itself. - -[Illustration: A HARPY.] - -Lizards are always interesting. "There was a lizzard 8 cubits long -brought to Rome from Ætheopia by the command of a Cardinal of Lisbon and -the mouth of it was so wide that a child might be put into it.... Put -alive into a new earthen vessel and boyle'd with 3 Sextaryes of Wine and -one Cyathus, it is excellent food for one sick of the Pthisick, if he -drink of it in the morning fasting." - -We must not suppose that this operation would kill the lizard; the -difficulty would be how to procure a vessel to stew so large a lizard. -Lizard-pots are made much smaller nowadays. We dare say that the worthy -Mrs. Beeton, in her most ingenious moments, never dreamt of one above -four, or at most six, cubits deep. - -Writers of our own time who have never gone in for a course of logic -rarely condescend to complete perspicuity. They take things too often -for granted. This is not old Topsell's way. "The Arabian sheep have a -very broad tail," he says, "and the fatter it is the thicker it will -be." We learn, too, what we should never have suspected had the author -not plainly stated it, that some tails "have been seen above 150lbs. in -weight." Albertus Magnus saw "a Ram that had 4 great Horns growing on -his head and two long ones on his legges, that were like to Goat's -Horns." - -Here are some other gems from our Beast Booke:-- - -"Subus is an amphibion, with two Horns: he follows shoals of fish -swimming in the Sea, Lobsters, Pagri, and Oculatae, are fishes that love -him; but he cares for none of their love, but makes them all his prey. - -[Illustration: THE SPHINX OR SPHINGA.] - -"The Sphinx or Sphinga is of the kinde of Apes, having his body rough -like Apes, having the upper part like a woman and their visage much like -them. The voice very like a man's, but not articular, sounding as if one -did speak hastily or with sorrow. Their haire browne or swarthy colour. -They are bred in India and Ethyopia. The true Sphinx is of a fierce -though a tameable nature and if a man do first of all perceive or -discerne of these natural _Sphinges_, before the beast discerne or -perceive the man, he shall be safe; but if the beast first descrie the -man, then is it mortal to the man. - -[Illustration: THE MANTICHORA.] - -"The Mantichora is bred among the Indians, having a treble row of teeth -beneathe and above, whose greatnesse, roughnesse and feete are like a -Lyons, his face and ears like unto a mans, his eyes grey and collour -red, his taile like the taile of a scorpion of the earth, armed with a -sting, casting forth sharp pointed quills, his voice like the voice of a -small trumpet or pipe, being in course as swift as a Hart." - -Then follows further description of the Mantichora. This singular -combination of lion, man, scorpion, and porcupine was implicitly -believed in by all the natural history writers up to Goldsmith's day, -and we are not sure that that pleasing but gullible scribe did not, -privately at least, accord its existence full credence. - -Leigh Hunt, in his Autobiography, describes the extraordinary effect -which a sight of this beast had upon him when he encountered it in an -old folio during his childhood. The Mantichora, he says, "unspeakably -shocked me. It had the head of a man, grinning with rows of teeth, and -the body of a wild beast, brandishing a tail armed with stings. It was -sometimes called by the ancients Martichora. But I did not know that. I -took the word to be a horrible compound of man and tiger. The beast -figures in Pliny and the old travellers. Appolonius takes a fearful joy -in describing him. 'Mantichora,' says old Morell--'bestia horrenda'--'a -brute fit to give one the horrors.' The possibility of such creatures -being pursued never occurred to me. Alexander, I thought, might have -been encountered while crossing the Granicus, and elephants might be -driven into the sea, but how could anyone face a beast with a man's -head?" Leigh Hunt goes on to describe how the Mantichora impressed his -whole childhood. Doubtless the sensations of the eighteenth-century -child were the same felt by the early seventeenth century Prince Henry. -The Mantichora was the _bête noire_ of the Royal nursery, we may depend -upon it. - -Scarcely less dreadful was the Collogruis, whose picture is given on the -next page. - -How many of us have heard of the Colus? - -"There is," we read, "among the Scithians and Sarmatians a foure-footed -wild beast called Colus, being in quantitie and stature betwixt a Ramnie -and a Hart and dusky white coloured, but the young ones yellow." The -real peculiarity of the Colus, which makes every true lover of -quadrupeds regret its extinction, is described as follows: "Her manner -is to drinke by the holes in her nostrils, whereby she snuffeth up -aboundance of water and carrieth it in her head, so that she will live -in dry pastures remote from all moisture and great season, quenching her -thirst by that cisterne in her head." Imagination conjures up a huge -drove of Colii, blissfully encamped in the midst of the Sahara, -astonishing the passing Bedouins by their sagacity and the amazing -cisterns in their craniums. There was no use trying to capture them, so -fleet and nimble were they, unless, indeed, the hunter had taken the -precaution to arm himself with a flute or a timbrel. In that case he had -only to strike up a few airs and it was all up with the poor Colus. He -would fall down with weakness, and a simple blow with a staff sufficed -to dispatch him. He made excellent eating; flavoured, we suppose, by the -contents of the cranial cistern afore described. - -[Illustration: THE COLLOGRUIS.] - -"The Camelopard or Giraffe is a beaste full of spots. He hath two little -hornes growing on his head the colour of iron, his eies rolling and -growing, his mouth but small like a hart's; his tongue is neare three -foot long. The pace of this beast differeth from all other in the world, -for he doth not move his right and left foote one after another, but -both together, and so likewise the other, whereby his whole body is -removed at every step or straine." - -We must perforce skip the descriptions of the three kinds of Apes--Ape -Satyre, the Ape Norwegian, and the Ape Pan. Then there are such -creatures as the Axis, the Alborach, the Cacus, the Allocamell, and the -Tragelaphus. - -And how shall we tell of the Dictyes, the Crucigeran, the Gulon, and the -Gorgon? Then there are dissertations on those fearful quadrupeds the -Orynx and the Tarbarine. - -[Illustration: THE POEPHAGUS.] - -But the Poephagus ought to detain the modern student a moment, as it -must often have engrossed Prince Henry by the hour. - -"This great beaste whose everie hair is two cubitts in length & yet -finer than a man's, is one of the fearfullest creatures in the World: -for if he perceive him to be but looked at by anybody he taketh to his -heels as fast as he can goe." - -The cause of his fright is his tail, which is much sought after by the -natives to bind up their hair. When the hunted Poephagus can "no longer -avoyde the hunter then doth he turne himselfe, hiding his taile, & -looketh upon the face of the hunter with some confidence, gathering his -wits together, as if to face out that he had no tayle, & that the -residue of his body were not worth looking after." - -Sly Poephagus! But his stratagem is in vain. For "they take off the -skinne and the taile," perhaps not even killing him, and so leaving the -luckless Poephagus to go roaming about the country skinless and -tailless--a piteous sight. But stay. "Volateranus relateth this -otherwise, that the beast biteth off his own taile and so delivereth -himself from the hunter, knowing that he is not desired for any other -cause." Can we not conjure up the scene for ourselves? - -"Hunter: So sorry to trouble you, but your taile or your life! - -"Poephagus: No trouble at all, I assure you. Allow me (_bites off his -taile_). Pray accept it with my compliments (_hunter bows and -retires_)." - -"The Neades were certain beastes whose voice was so terrible that they -shook the earth therewith," but the Strepficeros, though endowed with a -more resonant title, was a very simple, inoffensive quadruped after all. - -"The Cepus was a four-footed beast having a face like a Lyon & some part -of the body like a panther, being as big as a wild goat or Roe-buck, or -as one of the dogs of _Erithrea_ & a long taile, the which such of them -as having tasted flesh will eat from their own bodies." - -"The Calitrich had a long beard and a large taile." You perceive the -early naturalists set great store by an animal's caudal appendage. It -gave them scope for their descriptive powers. - -And now let us learn something about the Cynocephale. "The Cynocephales -are a kind of Apes, whose heads are like Dogges & their other part like -a mans. Some there are which are able to write & naturally to discerne -letters which kind the Priests bring into their Temples, & at their -first entrance, the Priest bringeth him a writing Table, a pencil & Inke -that so by seeing him write he may make by all whether he be of the -right kind & the beast quickly sheweth his skill. The Nomades, people of -Ethiopia & the nations of Mentimori live upon the milk of Cynocephals, -keeping great heards of them, & killing all the males." - -[Illustration: A CYNOCEPHALE.] - -"The Elk is a four-footed beast commonly found in Scandinavia. His upper -lip hangs out so long that he cannot eat but going backwards. He is -subject to the falling sicknesse, the remedy he hath is to lift up the -right claw of the hinder foot & put it to his left ear. It holds the -same virtue if you cut it off." - -Of the ram we are told that "for six winter months he sleeps on his -right side; but after the vernal equinoctiall he rests on his right. -Ælianus hath discovered this, but the butchers deny it." - -[Illustration: CAMELS.] - -"The Camel hath a manifold belly, either because he hath a great body: -or, because he eats Thorny & Woody substances, God hath provided for the -concoction. Puddle water is sweet to him, nor will he drink river water, -till he hath troubled it with his foot. He lives a hundred years, -unlesse the Ayre agree not with him. When they are on a journey they do -not whip them forward: but they sing to them, whereby they run so fast -that men can hardly follow them." - -Modern zoologists must regret the extinction of the sixteenth-century -She-goat, which, according to Prince Henry's natural history, "see as -well by night as day, wherefore if those that are blind in the night eat -a _Goats_ liver they are granted sight. They breathe out of their eares -and nostrils." - -Farther along, the national animal of the greatest of British dominions -beyond the seas is thus described:-- - -"The _Beaver_ is a most strong creature to bite, he will never let go -his teeth that meet, before he makes the bones crack. His hinder feet -are like a Gooses and his fore-feet like an Apes. His fat tail is -covered with a scaly skin, & he uses for a rudder when he pursues fish. -He comes forth of his holes in the night: & biting off boughs of Trees -about the Rivers, he makes his houses with an upper loft. When they are -cut asunder they are very delightsome to see; for one lies on his back & -hath the boughs between his legges & others draw him by the tail to -their cottage. - -"A Baboon is a Creature with a head like a dog, but in shape like a man; -he will fish cunningly, for he will dive all day, & bring forth -abundance of fish." - -Here is a picture of a Hippopotamus or Sea-Horse devouring a crocodile -tail first. - -[Illustration: A HIPPOPOTAMUS DEVOURING A CROCODILE.] - -"The Elephant is a stranger with us, but that the Indians & other places -have them in common. The King of the Palibroti had 90,000 of them. Many -strange things are spoken of them. It is certain that of old time they -carried Castles of armed men into the Field. In his heart, says -Aldrovandus, he hath a wonderful big bone. Aristotle maintains that he -hath three Stomacks. It is most certain (continues the careful -chronicler) that in the Kingdom of Malabar they talk together, & speak -with man's voice. There was, saith Ocafta, in Cochin an Elephant, who -carried things to the Haven & laboured in the sea-faring matters: when -he was weary the Governor of the place did force him to draw a galley -from the Haven which he had begun to draw, into the sea: the Elephant -refused it the Governor gave him good words, & at the last entreated him -to do it for the King of Portugal, thereupon (it is hardly credible) the -elephant was moored, & repeated these two words clearly, _Hoo, Hoo_, -which in the language of Malabar is, _I will, I will_, & he presently -drew the ship into the Sea.... They learn things so eagerly that Pliny -says that an Elephant that was something dull, & was often beat for not -learning well, was found acting his part by moon-light, & some say that -_Elephants_ will learn to write & read. One of them learned to describe -the Greek letters, & did write in the same tongue these words, _I myself -writ this_." - -"But," concludes the zoologist, conscious of having clinched the matter -by this last proof, "_I will say no more_." - -"The Ichneumon is a creature in Egypt with a long tail like a Serpents. -He is an enemy to the Crocodile; for when he observes him sleeping he -rolles himself in clay, & goes into his mouth, & so into his belly & -eats his liver, & then leaps forth again." - -[Illustration: THE ICHNEUMON.] - -Loaded with all his zoological learning we can understand how Prince -Henry became a very bright little boy, far in advance of his years. We -can also dimly perceive why he died so young. - -It is not given to every youth--nor to every prince--to devour such -marvels and live in peace and content at home or at Court, surrounded by -the conventions of everyday English life. But had he survived this -accumulation of wisdom, the realm would surely have boasted under King -Henry IX. a "Zoo" compared with which our present establishment, -excellent as it is, would have been paltry indeed. But it is too late to -repine. The mantichora, the lamia, the gryphon, and the poephagus are -presumably extinct, while as for our lions, bears, giraffes, and the -rest of the "foure-footed beastes," these appear to have miserably -abandoned all those curious traits which rendered them glorious in -little Prince Henry's days, and which, we trust, will long reflect -lustre on their past. - - - - -DIALSTONE LANE - -_BY W. W. JACOBS_. - -Copyright, 1904, by W. W. Jacobs, in the United States of America. - -[Illustration] - - -CHAPTER I. - -Mr. Edward Tredgold sat in the private office of Tredgold and Son, land -and estate agents, gazing through the prim wire blinds at the peaceful -High Street of Binchester. Tredgold senior, who believed in work for the -young, had left early. Tredgold junior, glad at an opportunity of -sharing his father's views, had passed most of the work on to a clerk -who had arrived in the world exactly three weeks after himself. - -"Binchester gets duller and duller," said Mr. Tredgold to himself, -wearily. "Two skittish octogenarians, one gloomy baby, one gloomier -nursemaid, and three dogs in the last five minutes. If it wasn't for the -dogs----Halloa!" - -He put down his pen and, rising, looked over the top of the blind at a -girl who was glancing from side to side of the road as though in search -of an address. - -"A visitor," continued Mr. Tredgold, critically. "Girls like that only -visit Binchester, and then take the first train back, never to return." - -The girl turned at that moment and, encountering the forehead and eyes, -gazed at them until they sank slowly behind the protection of the blind. - -"She's coming here," said Mr. Tredgold, watching through the wire. -"Wants to see our time-table, I expect." - -He sat down at the table again, and taking up his pen took some papers -from a pigeon-hole and eyed them with severe thoughtfulness. - -"A lady to see you, sir," said a clerk, opening the door. - -Mr. Tredgold rose and placed a chair. - -"I have called for the key of the cottage in Dialstone Lane," said the -girl, still standing. "My uncle, Captain Bowers, has not arrived yet, -and I am told that you are the landlord." - -Mr. Tredgold bowed. "The next train is due at six," he observed, with a -glance at the time-table hanging on the wall; "I expect he'll come by -that. He was here on Monday seeing the last of the furniture in. Are you -Miss Drewitt?" - -"Yes," said the girl. "If you'll kindly give me the key, I can go in and -wait for him." - -Mr. Tredgold took it from a drawer. "If you will allow me, I will go -down with you," he said, slowly; "the lock is rather awkward for anybody -who doesn't understand it." - -The girl murmured something about not troubling him. - -"It's no trouble," said Mr. Tredgold, taking up his hat. "It is our duty -to do all we can for the comfort of our tenants. That lock--" - -He held the door open and followed her into the street, pointing out -various objects of interest as they went along. - -"I'm afraid you'll find Binchester very quiet," he remarked. - -"I like quiet," said his companion. - -Mr. Tredgold glanced at her shrewdly, and, pausing only at the Jubilee -horse-trough to point out beauties which might easily escape any but a -trained observation, walked on in silence until they reached their -destination. - -Except in the matter of window-blinds, Dialstone Lane had not changed -for generations, and Mr. Tredgold noted with pleasure the interest of -his companion as she gazed at the crumbling roofs, the red-brick -doorsteps, and the tiny lattice windows of the cottages. At the last -house, a cottage larger than the rest, one side of which bordered the -old churchyard, Mr. Tredgold paused and, inserting his key in the lock, -turned it with thoughtless ease. - -"The lock seems all right; I need not have bothered you," said Miss -Drewitt, regarding him gravely. - -"Ah, it seems easy," said Mr. Tredgold, shaking his head, "but it wants -knack." - -The girl closed the door smartly, and, turning the key, opened it again -without any difficulty. To satisfy herself--on more points than one--she -repeated the performance. - -"You've _got_ the knack," said Mr. Tredgold, meeting her gaze with great -calmness. "It's extraordinary what a lot of character there is in locks; -they let some people open them without any trouble, while others may -fumble at them till they're tired." - -The girl pushed the door open and stood just inside the room. - -"Thank you," she said, and gave him a little bow of dismissal. - -A vein of obstinacy in Mr. Tredgold's disposition, which its owner -mistook for firmness, asserted itself. It was plain that the girl had -estimated his services at their true value and was quite willing to -apprise him of the fact. He tried the lock again, and with more -bitterness than the occasion seemed to warrant said that somebody had -been oiling it. - -"I promised Captain Bowers to come in this afternoon and see that a few -odd things had been done," he added. "May I come in now?" - -The girl withdrew into the room, and, seating herself in a large -arm-chair by the fireplace, watched his inspection of door-knobs and -window-fastenings with an air of grave amusement, which he found -somewhat trying. - -"Captain Bowers had the walls panelled and these lockers made to make -the room look as much like a ship's cabin as possible," he said, pausing -in his labours. "He was quite pleased to find the staircase opening out -of the room--he calls it the companion-ladder. And he calls the kitchen -the pantry, which led to a lot of confusion with the workmen. Did he -tell you of the crow's-nest in the garden?" - -"No," said the girl. - -"It's a fine piece of work," said Mr. Tredgold. - -He opened the door leading into the kitchen and stepped out into the -garden. Miss Drewitt, after a moment's hesitation, followed, and after -one delighted glance at the trim old garden gazed curiously at a mast -with a barrel fixed near the top, which stood at the end. - -"There's a fine view from up there," said Mr. Tredgold. "With the -captain's glass one can see the sea distinctly. I spent nearly all last -Friday afternoon up there, keeping an eye on things. Do you like the -garden? Do you think these old creepers ought to be torn down from the -house?" - -"Certainly not," said Miss Drewitt, with emphasis. - -"Just what I said," remarked Mr. Tredgold. "Captain Bowers wanted to -have them pulled down, but I dissuaded him. I advised him to consult you -first." - -"I don't suppose he really intended to," said the girl. - -"He did," said the other, grimly; "said they were untidy. How do you -like the way the house is furnished?" - -The girl gazed at him for a few moments before replying. "I like it very -much," she said, coldly. - -"That's right," said Mr. Tredgold, with an air of relief. "You see, I -advised the captain what to buy. I went with him to Tollminster and -helped him choose. Your room gave me the most anxiety, I think." - -"_My_ room?" said the girl, starting. - -"It's a dream in the best shades of pink and green," said Mr. Tredgold, -modestly. "Pink on the walls, and carpets and hangings green; three or -four bits of old furniture--the captain objected, but I stood firm; and -for pictures I had two or three little things out of an art journal -framed." - -"Is furnishing part of your business?" inquired the girl, eyeing him in -bewilderment. - -"Business?" said the other. "Oh, no. I did it for amusement. I chose and -the captain paid. It was a delightful experience. The sordid question of -price was waived; for once expense was nothing to me. I wish you'd just -step up to your room and see how you like it. It's the one over the -kitchen." - -[Illustration: "PRUDENCE."] - -Miss Drewitt hesitated, and then curiosity, combined with a cheerful -idea of probably being able to disapprove of the lauded decorations, -took her indoors and upstairs. In a few minutes she came down again. - -"I suppose it's all right," she said, ungraciously, "but I don't -understand why you should have selected it." - -"I had to," said Mr. Tredgold, confidentially. "I happened to go to -Tollminster the same day as the captain and went into a shop with him. -If you could only see the things he wanted to buy, you would -understand." - -The girl was silent. - -"The paper the captain selected for your room," continued Mr. Tredgold, -severely, "was decorated with branches of an unknown flowering shrub, on -the top twig of which a humming-bird sat eating a dragon-fly. A rough -calculation showed me that every time you opened your eyes in the -morning you would see fifty-seven humming-birds--all made in the same -pattern--eating fifty-seven ditto dragon-flies. The captain said it was -cheerful." - -"I have no doubt that my uncle's selection would have satisfied me," -said Miss Drewitt, coldly. - -"The curtains he fancied were red, with small yellow tigers crouching -all over them," pursued Mr. Tredgold. "The captain seemed fond of -animals." - -"I think that you were rather--venturesome," said the girl. "Suppose -that I had not liked the things you selected?" - -Mr. Tredgold deliberated. "I felt sure that you would like them," he -said, at last. "It was a hard struggle not to keep some of the things -for myself. I've had my eye on those two Chippendale chairs for years. -They belonged to an old woman in Mint Street, but she always refused to -part with them. I shouldn't have got them, only one of them let her down -the other day." - -"Let her down?" repeated Miss Drewitt, sharply. "Do you mean one of the -chairs in my bedroom?" - -Mr. Tredgold nodded. "Gave her rather a nasty fall," he said. "I struck -while the iron was hot, and went and made her an offer while she was -still laid up from the effects of it. It's the one standing against the -wall; the other's all right, with proper care." - -Miss Drewitt, after a somewhat long interval, thanked him. - -"You must have been very useful to my uncle," she said, slowly. "I feel -sure that he would never have bought chairs like those of his own -accord." - -"He has been at sea all his life," said Mr. Tredgold, in extenuation. -"You haven't seen him for a long time, have you?" - -"Ten years," was the reply. - -"He is delightful company," said Mr. Tredgold. "His life has been one -long series of adventures in every quarter of the globe. His stock of -yarns is like the widow's cruse. And here he comes," he added, as a -dilapidated fly drew up at the house and an elderly man, with a red, -weather-beaten face, partly hidden in a cloud of grey beard, stepped out -and stood in the doorway, regarding the girl with something almost akin -to embarrassment. - -"It's not--not Prudence?" he said, at length, holding out his hand and -staring at her. - -"Yes, uncle," said the girl. - -They shook hands, and Captain Bowers, reaching up for a cage containing -a parrot, which had been noisily entreating the cabman for a kiss all -the way from the station, handed that flustered person his fare and -entered the house again. - -"Glad to see you, my lad," he said, shaking hands with Mr. Tredgold and -glancing covertly at his niece. "I hope you haven't been waiting long," -he added, turning to the latter. - -"No," said Miss Drewitt, regarding him with a puzzled air. - -"I missed the train," said the captain. "We must try and manage better -next time. I--I hope you'll be comfortable." - -"Thank you," said the girl. - -"You--you are very like your poor mother," said the captain. - -"I hope so," said Prudence. - -She stole up to the captain and, after a moment's hesitation, kissed his -cheek. The next moment she was caught up and crushed in the arms of a -powerful and affectionate bear. - -"Blest if I hardly knew how to take you at first," said the captain, his -red face shining with gratification. "Little girls are one thing, but -when they grow up into"--he held her away and looked at her -proudly--"into handsome and dignified-looking young women, a man doesn't -quite know where he is." - -He took her in his arms again and, kissing her forehead, winked -delightedly in the direction of Mr. Tredgold, who was affecting to look -out of the window. - -"My man'll be in soon," he said, releasing the girl, "and then we'll see -about some tea. He met me at the station and I sent him straight off for -things to eat." - -"Your man?" said Miss Drewitt. - -"Yes; I thought a man would be easier to manage than a girl," said the -captain, knowingly. "You can be freer with 'em in the matter of -language, and then there's no followers or anything of that kind. I got -him to sign articles ship-shape and proper. Mr. Tredgold recommended -him." - -"No, no," said that gentleman, hastily. - -"I asked you before he signed on with me," said the captain, pointing a -stumpy forefinger at him. "I made a point of it, and you told me that -you had never heard anything against him." - -"I don't call that a recommendation," said Mr. Tredgold. - -"It's good enough in these days," retorted the captain, gloomily. "A man -that has got a character like that is hard to find." - -"He might be artful and keep his faults to himself," suggested Tredgold. - -"So long as he does that, it's all right," said Captain Bowers. "I can't -find fault if there's no faults to find fault with. The best steward I -ever had, I found out afterwards, had escaped from gaol. He never wanted -to go ashore, and when the ship was in port almost lived in his pantry." - -"I never heard of Tasker having been in gaol," said Mr. Tredgold. -"Anyhow, I'm certain that he never broke out of one; he's far too -stupid." - -As he paid this tribute the young man referred to entered laden with -parcels, and, gazing awkwardly at the company, passed through the room -on tip-toe and began to busy himself in the pantry. Mr. Tredgold, -refusing the captain's invitation to stay for a cup of tea, took his -departure. - -"Very nice youngster that," said the captain, looking after him. "A -little bit light-hearted in his ways, perhaps, but none the worse for -that." - -He sat down and looked round at his possessions. "The first real home -I've had for nearly fifty years," he said, with great content. "I hope -you'll be as happy here as I intend to be. It sha'n't be my fault if -you're not." - -Mr. Tredgold walked home deep in thought, and by the time he had arrived -there had come to the conclusion that if Miss Drewitt favoured her -mother, that lady must have been singularly unlike Captain Bowers in -features. - - -CHAPTER II. - -In less than a week Captain Bowers had settled down comfortably in his -new command. A set of rules and regulations by which Mr. Joseph Tasker -was to order his life was framed and hung in the pantry. He studied it -with care, and, anxious that there should be no possible chance of a -misunderstanding, questioned the spelling in three instances. The -captain's explanation that he had spelt those words in the American -style was an untruthful reflection upon a great and friendly nation. - -Dialstone Lane was at first disposed to look askance at Mr. Tasker. -Old-fashioned matrons clustered round to watch him cleaning the -doorstep, and, surprised at its whiteness, withdrew discomfited. Rumour -had it that he liked work, and scandal said that he had wept because he -was not allowed to do the washing. - -[Illustration: "OLD-FASHIONED MATRONS CLUSTERED ROUND TO WATCH HIM -CLEANING THE DOORSTEP."] - -The captain attributed this satisfactory condition of affairs to the -rules and regulations, though a slight indiscretion on the part of Mr. -Tasker, necessitating the unframing of the document to add to the -latter, caused him a little annoyance. - -The first intimation he had of it was a loud knocking at the front door -as he sat dozing one afternoon in his easy-chair. In response to his -startled cry of "Come in!" the door opened and a small man, in a state -of considerable agitation, burst into the room and confronted him. - -"My name is Chalk," he said, breathlessly. - -"A friend of Mr. Tredgold's?" said the captain. "I've heard of you, -sir." - -The visitor paid no heed. - -"My wife wishes to know whether she has got to dress in the dark every -afternoon for the rest of her life," he said, in fierce but trembling -tones. - -"Got to dress in the dark?" repeated the astonished captain. - -"With the blind down," explained the other. - -Captain Bowers looked him up and down. He saw a man of about fifty -nervously fingering the little bits of fluffy red whisker which grew at -the sides of his face, and trying to still the agitation of his -tremulous mouth. - -"How would you like it yourself?" demanded the visitor, whose manner was -gradually becoming milder and milder. "How would _you_ like a telescope -a yard long pointing----" - -He broke off abruptly as the captain, with a smothered oath, dashed out -of his chair into the garden and stood shaking his fist at the -crow's-nest at the bottom. - -"Joseph!" he bawled. - -"Yes, sir," said Mr. Tasker, removing the telescope described by Mr. -Chalk from his eye, and leaning over. - -"What are you doing with that spy-glass?" demanded his master, beckoning -to the visitor, who had drawn near. "How dare you stare in at people's -windows?" - -"I wasn't, sir," replied Mr. Tasker, in an injured voice. "I wouldn't -think o' such a thing--I couldn't, not if I tried." - -"You'd got it pointed straight at my bedroom window," cried Mr. Chalk, -as he accompanied the captain down the garden. "And it ain't the first -time." - -"I wasn't, sir," said the steward, addressing his master. "I was -watching the martins under the eaves." - -"You'd got it pointed at my window," persisted the visitor. - -"That's where the nests are," said Mr. Tasker, "but I wasn't looking in -at the window. Besides, I noticed you always pulled the blind down when -you saw me looking, so I thought it didn't matter." - -"We can't do anything without being followed about by that telescope," -said Mr. Chalk, turning to the captain. "My wife had our house built -where it is on purpose, so that we shouldn't be overlooked. We didn't -bargain for a thing like that sprouting up in a back-garden." - -"I'm very sorry," said the captain. "I wish you'd told me of it before. -If I catch you up there again," he cried, shaking his fist at Mr. -Tasker, "you'll remember it. Come down!" - -Mr. Tasker, placing the glass under his arm, came slowly and reluctantly -down the ratlines. - -"I wasn't looking in at the window, Mr. Chalk," he said, earnestly. "I -was watching the birds. O' course, I couldn't help seeing in a bit, but -I always shifted the spy-glass at once if there was anything that I -thought I oughtn't----" - -"That'll do," broke in the captain, hastily. "Go in and get the tea -ready. If I so much as see you looking at that glass again we part, my -lad, mind that." - -"I don't suppose he meant any harm," said the mollified Mr. Chalk, after -the crestfallen Joseph had gone into the house. "I hope I haven't been -and said too much, but my wife insisted on me coming round and speaking -about it." - -"You did quite right," said the captain, "and I thank you for coming. I -told him he might go up there occasionally, but I particularly warned -him against giving any annoyance to the neighbours." - -"I suppose," said Mr. Chalk, gazing at the erection with interest--"I -suppose there's a good view from up there? It's like having a ship in -the garden, and it seems to remind you of the North Pole, and whales, -and Northern Lights." - -Five minutes later Mr. Tasker, peering through the pantry window, was -surprised to see Mr. Chalk ascending with infinite caution to the -crow's-nest. His high hat was jammed firmly over his brows and the -telescope was gripped tightly under his right arm. The journey was -evidently regarded as one of extreme peril by the climber; but he held -on gallantly and, arrived at the top, turned a tremulous telescope on to -the horizon. - -Mr. Tasker took a deep breath and resumed his labours. He set the table, -and when the water boiled made the tea, and went down the garden to -announce the fact. Mr. Chalk was still up aloft, and even at that height -the pallor of his face was clearly discernible. It was evident to the -couple below that the terrors of the descent were too much for him, but -that he was too proud to say so. - -"Nice view up there," called the captain. - -"B--b--beautiful," cried Mr. Chalk, with an attempt at enthusiasm. - -The captain paced up and down impatiently; his tea was getting cold, but -the forlorn figure aloft made no sign. The captain waited a little -longer, and then, laying hold of the shrouds, slowly mounted until his -head was above the platform. - -"Shall I take the glass for you?" he inquired. - -Mr. Chalk, clutching the edge of the cask, leaned over and handed it -down. - -"My--my foot's gone to sleep," he stammered. - -"Ho! Well, you must be careful how you get down," said the captain, -climbing on to the platform. "Now, gently." - -He put the telescope back into the cask, and, beckoning Mr. Tasker to -ascend, took Mr. Chalk in a firm grasp and lowered him until he was able -to reach Mr. Tasker's face with his foot. After that the descent was -easy, and Mr. Chalk, reaching ground once more, spent two or three -minutes in slapping and rubbing, and other remedies prescribed for -sleepy feet. - -"There's few gentlemen that would have come down at all with their foot -asleep," remarked Mr. Tasker, pocketing a shilling, when the captain's -back was turned. - -Mr. Chalk, still pale and shaking somewhat, smiled feebly and followed -the captain into the house. The latter offered a cup of tea, which the -visitor, after a faint protest, accepted, and taking a seat at the table -gazed in undisguised admiration at the nautical appearance of the room. - -"I could fancy myself aboard ship," he declared. - -"Are you fond of the sea?" inquired the captain. - -"I love it," said Mr. Chalk, fervently. "It was always my idea from a -boy to go to sea, but somehow I didn't. I went into my father's business -instead, but I never liked it. Some people are fond of a stay-at-home -life, but I always had a hankering after adventures." - -[Illustration: "HE TOOK MR. CHALK IN A FIRM GRASP AND LOWERED HIM."] - -The captain shook his head. "Ha!" he said, impressively. - -"You've had a few in your time," said Mr. Chalk, looking at him, -grudgingly; "Edward Tredgold was telling me so." - -"Man and boy, I was at sea forty-nine years," remarked the captain. -"Naturally things happened in that time; it would have been odd if they -hadn't. It's all in a lifetime." - -"Some lifetimes," said Mr. Chalk, gloomily. "I'm fifty-one next year, -and the only thing I ever had happen to me was seeing a man stop a -runaway horse and cart." - -He shook his head solemnly over his monotonous career and, gazing at a -war-club from Samoa which hung over the fireplace, put a few leading -questions to the captain concerning the manner in which it came into his -possession. When Prudence came in half an hour later he was still -sitting there, listening with rapt attention to his host's tales of -distant seas. - -It was the first of many visits. Sometimes he brought Mr. Tredgold and -sometimes Mr. Tredgold brought him. The terrors of the crow's-nest -vanished before his persevering attacks, and perched there with the -captain's glass he swept the landscape with the air of an explorer -surveying a strange and hostile country. - -It was a fitting prelude to the captain's tales afterwards, and Mr. -Chalk, with the stem of his long pipe withdrawn from his open mouth, -would sit enthralled as his host narrated picturesque incidents of -hairbreadth escapes, or, drawing his chair to the table, made rough maps -for his listener's clearer understanding. Sometimes the captain took him -to palm-studded islands in the Southern Seas; sometimes to the ancient -worlds of China and Japan. He became an expert in nautical terms. He -walked in knots, and even ordered a new carpet in fathoms--after the -shop-keeper had demonstrated, by means of his little boy's arithmetic -book, the difference between that measurement and a furlong. - -"I'll have a voyage before I'm much older," he remarked one afternoon, -as he sat in the captain's sitting-room. "Since I retired from business -time hangs very heavy sometimes. I've got a fancy for a small yacht, but -I suppose I couldn't go a long voyage in a small one?" - -"Smaller the better," said Edward Tredgold, who was sitting by the -window watching Miss Drewitt sewing. - -Mr. Chalk took his pipe from his mouth and eyed him inquiringly. - -"Less to lose," explained Mr. Tredgold, with a scarcely perceptible -glance at the captain. "Look at the dangers you'd be dragging your craft -into, Chalk; there would be no satisfying you with a quiet cruise in the -Mediterranean." - -"I shouldn't run into unnecessary danger," said Mr. Chalk, seriously. -"I'm a married man, and there's my wife to think of. What would become -of her if anything happened to me?" - -"Why, you've got plenty of money to leave, haven't you?" inquired Mr. -Tredgold. - -[Illustration: "SOMETIMES THE CAPTAIN TOOK HIM TO PALM-STUDDED ISLANDS -IN THE SOUTHERN SEAS."] - -"I was thinking of her losing _me_," replied Mr. Chalk, with a touch of -acerbity. - -"Oh, I didn't think of that," said the other. "Yes, to be sure." - -"Captain Bowers was telling me the other day of a woman who wore widow's -weeds for thirty-five years," said Mr. Chalk, impressively. "And all the -time her husband was married again and got a big family in Australia. -There's nothing in the world so faithful as a woman's heart." - -"Well, if you're lost on a cruise, I shall know where to look for you," -said Mr. Tredgold. "But I don't think the captain ought to put such -ideas into your head." - -Mr. Chalk looked bewildered. Then he scratched his left whisker with the -stem of his churchwarden pipe and looked severely over at Mr. Tredgold. - -"I don't think you ought to talk that way before ladies," he said, -primly. "Of course, I know you're only in joke, but there's some people -can't see jokes as quick as others and they might get a wrong idea of -you." - -"What part did you think of going to for your cruise?" interposed -Captain Bowers. - -"There's nothing settled yet," said Mr. Chalk; "it's just an idea, -that's all. I was talking to your father the other day," he added, -turning to Mr. Tredgold; "just sounding him, so to speak." - -"You take him," said that dutiful son, briskly. "It would do him a world -of good; me, too." - -"He said he couldn't afford either the time or the money," said Mr. -Chalk. "The thing to do would be to combine business with pleasure--to -take a yacht and find a sunken galleon loaded with gold pieces. I've -heard of such things being done." - -"I've heard of it," said the captain, nodding. - -"Bottom of the ocean must be paved with them in places," said Mr. -Tredgold, rising, and following Miss Drewitt, who had gone into the -garden to plant seeds. - -Mr. Chalk refilled his pipe and, accepting a match from the captain, -smoked slowly. His gaze was fixed on the window, but instead of -Dialstone Lane he saw tumbling blue seas and islets far away. - -"That's something you've never come across, I suppose, Captain Bowers?" -he remarked at last. - -"No," said the other. - -Mr. Chalk, with a vain attempt to conceal his disappointment, smoked on -for some time in silence. The blue seas disappeared, and he saw instead -the brass knocker of the house opposite. - -"Nor any other kind of craft with treasure aboard, I suppose?" he -suggested, at last. - -The captain put his hands on his knees and stared at the floor. "No," he -said, slowly, "I can't call to mind any craft; but it's odd that you -should have got on this subject with me." - -Mr. Chalk laid his pipe carefully on the table. "Why?" he inquired. - -"Well," said the captain, with a short laugh, "it _is_ odd, that's all." - -Mr. Chalk fidgeted with the stem of his pipe. "You know of sunken -treasure somewhere?" he said, eagerly. - -The captain smiled and shook his head; the other watched him narrowly. - -"You know of some treasure?" he said, with conviction. - -"Not what you could call sunken," said the captain, driven to bay. - -Mr. Chalk's pale-blue eyes opened to their fullest extent. "Ingots?" he -queried. - -The other shook his head. "It's a secret," he remarked; "we won't talk -about it." - -"Yes, of course, naturally, I don't expect you to tell me where it is," -said Mr. Chalk, "but I thought it might be interesting to hear about, -that's all." - -"It's buried," said the captain, after a long pause. "I don't know that -there's any harm in telling you that; buried in a small island in the -South Pacific." - -"Have you seen it?" inquired Mr. Chalk. - -"I buried it," rejoined the other. - -Mr. Chalk sank back in his chair and regarded him with awestruck -attention; Captain Bowers, slowly ramming home a charge of tobacco with -his thumb, smiled quietly. - -"Buried it," he repeated, musingly, "with the blade of an oar for a -spade. It was a long job, but it's six foot down and the dead man it -belonged to atop of it." - -The pipe fell from the listener's fingers and smashed unheeded on the -floor. - -"You ought to make a book of it," he said at last. - -The captain shook his head. "I haven't got the gift of story-telling," -he said, simply. "Besides, you can understand I don't want it noised -about. People might bother me." - -He leaned back in his chair and bunched his beard in his hand; the -other, watching him closely, saw that his thoughts were busy with some -scene in his stirring past. - -"Not a friend of yours, I hope?" said Mr. Chalk, at last. - -"Who?" inquired the captain, starting from his reverie. - -"The dead man atop of the treasure," replied the other. - -"No," said the captain, briefly. - -"Is it worth much?" asked Mr. Chalk. - -"Roughly speaking, about half a million," responded the captain, calmly. - -Mr. Chalk rose and walked up and down the room. His eyes were bright and -his face pinker than usual. - -"Why don't you get it?" he demanded, at last, pausing in front of his -host. - -"Why, it ain't mine," said the captain, staring. "D'ye think I'm a -thief?" - -Mr. Chalk stared in his turn. "But who does it belong to, then?" he -inquired. - -"I don't know," replied the captain. "All I know is, it isn't mine, and -that's enough for me. Whether it was rightly come by I don't know. There -it is, and there it'll stay till the crack of doom." - -"Don't you know any of his relations or friends?" persisted the other. - -"I know nothing of him except his name," said the captain, "and I doubt -if even that was his right one. Don Silvio he called himself--a -Spaniard. It's over ten years ago since it happened. My ship had been -bought by a firm in Sydney, and while I was waiting out there I went for -a little run on a schooner among the islands. This Don Silvio was aboard -of her as a passenger. She went to pieces in a gale, and we were the -only two saved. The others were washed overboard, but we got ashore in -the boat, and I thought from the trouble he was taking over his bag that -the danger had turned his brain." - -"Ah!" said the keenly-interested Mr. Chalk. - -"He was a sick man aboard ship," continued the captain, "and I soon saw -that he hadn't saved his life for long. He saw it, too, and before he -died he made me promise that the bag should be buried with him and never -disturbed. After I'd promised, he opened the bag and showed me what was -in it. It was full of precious stones--diamonds, rubies, and the like; -some of them as large as birds' eggs. I can see him now, propped up -against the boat and playing with them in the sunlight. They blazed like -stars. Half a million he put them at, or more." - -"What good could they be to him when he was dead?" inquired the -listener. - -Captain Bowers shook his head. "That was his business, not mine," he -replied. "It was nothing to do with me. When he died I dug a grave for -him, as I told you, with a bit of a broken oar, and laid him and the bag -together. A month afterwards I was taken off by a passing schooner and -landed safe at Sydney." - -Mr. Chalk stooped, and mechanically picking up the pieces of his pipe -placed them on the table. - -[Illustration: "'HOW COULD YOU HAVE FOUND THEM AGAIN?' INQUIRED MR. -CHALK, WITH THE AIR OF ONE PROPOUNDING A POSER."] - -"Suppose that you had heard afterwards that the things had been stolen?" -he remarked. - -"If I had, then I should have given information, I think," said the -other. "It all depends." - -"Ah! but how could you have found them again?" inquired Mr. Chalk, with -the air of one propounding a poser. - -"With my map," said the captain slowly. "Before I left I made a map of -the island and got its position from the schooner that picked me up; but -I never heard a word from that day to this." - -"Could you find them now?" said Mr. Chalk. - -"Why not?" said the captain, with a short laugh. "The island hasn't run -away." - -He rose as he spoke and, tossing the fragments of his visitor's pipe -into the fireplace, invited him to take a turn in the garden. Mr. Chalk, -after a feeble attempt to discuss the matter further, reluctantly -obeyed. - - (_To be continued._) - - - - -_Illustrated Interviews._ - -LXXX.--M. CURIE, THE DISCOVERER OF RADIUM. - -BY CLEVELAND MOFFETT. - - -Very well do I remember my first impression of M. Curie. It was in the -Rue Cuvier, at the Sorbonne Laboratories in Paris, where he was -lecturing that day in the big amphitheatre, while I waited in an -adjoining room among the air-pumps and electrical apparatus. Suddenly a -door opened and there came a burst of applause, a long clapping of -hands, and at the same moment a tall, pale man, slightly bent, walked -slowly across the room. - -On this occasion I simply made an appointment to see M. Curie the next -morning at the École de Physique; but I profited by the opportunity to -ask his assistant, M. Danne, some preliminary questions about radium. -Was it true, _could_ it be true, that this strange substance gives forth -heat and light ceaselessly and is really an inexhaustible source of -energy? Of course, I had read all this, but I wanted to hear it from the -mouth of one who knew. - -[Illustration: M. AND MME. CURIE USING THEIR APPARATUS FOR MEASURING THE -INTENSITY OF RADIUM. - - _From a Photo._ -] - -"It is quite true," said M. Danne, "that pure radium gives out light and -heat without any waste or diminution that can be detected by our most -delicate instruments. That is all we can say." - -"Is the light that it gives a bright light?" - -"Reasonably bright. M. Curie will show you." - -"Can he explain it? Can anyone explain it?" - -"There are various theories, but they really explain very little." - -M. Danne went on to indicate other properties of radium that are -scarcely less startling than these. Besides heat and light this strange -metal gives out constantly three kinds of invisible rays that move with -the velocity of light, or thereabouts, and, that have separate and -well-marked attributes. These rays may be helpful or harmful, they may -destroy life or stimulate it. They are capable not only of shortening -life or prolonging it, but of modifying existing forms of life--that is, -of actually creating new species. Finally, by destroying bacteria, they -may be used to cure disease, notably the dread lupus, recently conquered -by Finsen's lamps, and now apparently conquered again by a simpler -means. - -I listened in amazement; it was not one discovery, but a dozen, that we -were contemplating. - -"And--all this is M. Curie's discovery?" - -"Radium is his discovery; that is, his and Mme. Curie's. You cannot give -one more credit than the other. They did it together." - -He told me a little about Mme. Curie, who, it appears, was a Polish -student in the Latin Quarter, very poor, but possessed of rare talents. -They say that her marriage with M. Curie was just such a union, as -_must_ have produced some fine result. Without his scientific learning -and vivid imagination it is doubtful if radium would ever have been -dreamed of, and without her determination and patience against detail it -is likely the dream would never have been realized. - -The next day I found M. Curie in one of the rambling sheds of the École -de Physique bending over a small porcelain dish, where a colourless -liquid was simmering, perhaps half a teacupful, and he was watching it -with concern, always fearful of some accident. He had lost nearly a -decigramme (1·5 grains troy) of radium, he said, only a few weeks before -in a curious way. He had placed some radium salts in a small tube, and -this inside another tube, in which he created a vacuum. Then he began to -heat both tubes over an electric furnace, when, suddenly, at about 2,000 -degrees F., there came an explosion which shattered the tubes and -scattered their precious contents. There was absolutely no explanation -of this explosion; it was one of the tricks that radium is apt to play -on you. Here his face lightened with quite a boyish smile. - -M. Curie proceeded to explain what he was doing with the little dish; he -was refining some radium dissolved in it--that is, freeing it from -contaminating barium by repeated crystallization, this being the last -and most delicate part of the process of obtaining the pure metal. - -"We have our radium works outside Paris," he said, "where the crude ore -goes through its early stages of separation and where the radium is -brought to an intensity of 2,000, as we express it. After that the -process requires such care and involves so much risk of waste that we -keep the precious stuff in our own hands and treat it ourselves, my wife -and I, as I am doing now, to bring it to the higher intensities, 50,000, -200,000, 500,000, and, finally, 1,500,000. What you see here is about -100,000. It will take many more crystallizations to bring it to the -maximum." - -"That is, to the state of pure radium?" - -"To the state of pure chloride of radium. You know the metal exists only -as a chloride or bromide. It has never yet been isolated, although it -easily might be." - -"Why has it never been isolated?" - -"Because it would not be stable; it would immediately be oxidized by the -air and destroyed, as happens with sodium, whereas it remains permanent -as a bromide or chloride and suffers no change." - -"Does radium change in appearance as it increases in intensity?" I -asked. - -"No; it keeps the form of small white crystals, which may be crushed -into a white powder, and which look like ordinary salt. See, here are -some." - -He took from the table drawer a small glass tube, not much larger than a -thick match. It was sealed at both ends and partly covered with a fold -of lead. Inside the tube I could see a white powder. - -"Why is the tube wrapped with lead?" I inquired. - -"For the protection of those who handle it. Lead stops the harmful rays, -that would otherwise make trouble." - -"Trouble?" - -"Yes; you see the radium in this tube is very active; it has an -intensity of 1,500,000, and if I were to lay it against your hand or any -part of your body, so"--he touched my hand with the bare tube--"and if I -were to leave it there for a few minutes, you would certainly hear from -it later." - -"But I feel nothing." - -"Of course not; neither did I feel anything when I touched some radium -here," and pulling up his sleeve he showed me a forearm scarred and -reddened from fresh-healed sores. "But you see what it did, and it was -much less intense than this specimen." - -He then mentioned an experience of his friend, Professor Becquerel, -discoverer of the "Becquerel rays" of uranium, and in a way the -parent-discoverer of radium, since the latter discovery grew out of the -former. It seems that Professor Becquerel, in journeying to London, -carried in his waistcoat pocket a small tube of radium to be used in a -lecture there. Nothing happened at the time, but about a fortnight later -the professor observed that the skin under his pocket was beginning to -redden and fall away, and finally a deep and painful sore formed there -and remained for weeks before healing. A peculiar feature of these -radium sores is that they do not appear for some considerable time after -exposure to the rays. - -"Then radium is an element of destruction?" I remarked. - -"Undoubtedly it has a power of destruction, but that power may be -tempered or controlled, for instance, by this covering of lead. M. -Danysz, at the Pasteur Institute, will give you the pathological facts -better than I can." - -This brought us back to physical facts, and I asked M. Curie if the -radium before us was at that moment giving out heat and light, for I -could perceive neither. - -"Of course it is," he replied. "I will take you into a dark room -presently and let you see the light for yourself. As for the heat, a -thermometer would show that this tube of radium is 2·7 degrees F. warmer -than the surrounding air." - -"Is it always that much warmer?" - -"Always--so far as we know. I may put it more simply by saying that a -given quantity of radium will melt its own weight of ice every hour." - -"For ever?" - -He smiled. "So far as we know--for ever. Or, again, that a given -quantity of radium throws out as much heat in eighty hours as an equal -weight of coal would throw out if burned to complete combustion in one -hour." - -"Suppose you had a considerable quantity of radium," I suggested, "say -twenty pounds, or a hundred pounds?" - -"The law would be the same, whatever the quantity. If we had fifty kilos -(110 pounds) of radium"--he gave a little wondering cluck at the -thought--"I say _if_ we had fifty kilos of radium it would give out as -much heat _continuously_ as a stove would give out that burned ten kilos -(twenty-two pounds) of coal every twenty-four hours, and was filled up -fresh every day." - -"And the radium would _never_ cease to give out this heat and would -_never_ be consumed?" - -"Never is a hard word, but one of our professors has calculated that a -given quantity of radium, after throwing out heat as I have stated for a -thousand million years, would have lost only one-millionth part of its -bulk. Others think the loss might be greater, say an ounce to a ton in -ten thousand years, but in any case it is so infinitesimally small that -we have no means of measuring it, and for practical purposes it does not -exist." - -[Illustration: M. AND MME. CURIE FINISHING THE PREPARATION OF SOME -RADIUM.] - -After this M. Curie took me into a darkened room, where I _saw_ quite -plainly the light from the radium tube, a clear glow sufficient to read -by if the tube were held near a printed page. And, of course, this was a -very small quantity of radium, about six centigrammes (nine-tenths of a -grain troy). - -"We estimate," said he, "that a decigramme of radium will illuminate a -square décimètre (fifteen square inches) of surface sufficient for -reading." - -"And a kilogramme (2·2 pounds) of radium?" - -"A kilogramme of radium would illuminate a room thirty feet square with -a mild radiance; and the light would be much brighter if screens of -sulphide of zinc were placed near the radium, for these are thrown by -the metal into a brilliant phosphorescence." - -"Then radium may be the light of the future?" - -M. Curie shook his head. "I am afraid that we should pay rather dearly -for such a light. There is first the money cost to be considered, and -then the likelihood that the people illuminated by radium would be also -stricken with paralysis, blindness, and various nervous disorders. -Possibly protective screens might be devised against these dangers, but -it is too soon to think of that. For a long time to come the radium -light will be only a laboratory wonder." - -After we had been in the darkness for some time M. Curie wrapped the -radium tube in thick paper and put it in my hand. - -"Now," said he, "shut your eyes and press this against your right -eyelid." - -I did as he bade me, and straightway had the sensation of a strange -diffused light outside my eye. M. Curie assured me, however, that the -light was not outside but _inside_ the eye, the radium rays having the -property of making the liquids of the eyeball self-luminous, a sort of -internal phosphorescence being produced. He warned me that it would be -dangerous to leave the radium against the eyelid very long, as a serious -disturbance to the eyesight, or even blindness, might result. - -Another experiment consisted in placing the radium against the bone at -the side of the forehead, and even in this position, with the eyes -closed, a light was perceptible, although fainter. Here the radium rays -had acted upon the eyeball through the bones of the head. - -"It is possible," said M. Curie, "that this property of radium may be -utilized in certain diseases of the eye. Dr. Emile Javal, one of our -distinguished physicians, who is blind himself, has given this matter -particular attention, and he thinks that radium may offer a precious -means of diagnosis in cases of cataract, by showing whether the retina -is or is not intact, and whether an operation will succeed. If a person -blind from cataract can see the radium light as you have just seen it, -then the eyesight of that person may be restored by removing the -cataract. Otherwise it cannot be restored." - -As we returned to the laboratory I remarked that the quantity of radium -in the various tubes I had seen was very small. - -"Of course it is small," he sighed; "there is very little radium in the -world. I mean very little that has been taken from the earth and -purified." - -"How much is there?" - -He thought a moment. "We have about one gramme (one-third of an ounce) -in France, Germany may have one gramme, America has less than one -gramme, and the rest of the world may perhaps have half a gramme. Four -grammes in all would be an outside estimate; you could heap it all in a -tablespoon." - -I suggested to M. Curie the possibility that some philanthropist might -be inspired on reading his words to help the new cause. And I remarked -that great things could doubtless be accomplished with some substantial -quantity of radium, say a pound or two. - -He gave me an amused look and asked if I had any idea what a pound or -two of radium, say a kilogramme (two and one-fifth pounds), would cost. - -"Why, no," said I, "no exact idea; but----" - -"A kilogramme of radium would cost"--he figured rapidly on a sheet of -paper--"with the very cheapest methods that we have of purifying the -crude material it would cost about ten million francs (£400,000). Under -existing conditions radium is worth about three thousand times its -weight in pure gold." - -"And yet there may be tons of it in the earth?" - -M. Curie was not so sure of this. "It is doubtful," said he, "if there -is very much radium in the earth, and what there is is so thinly -scattered in the surrounding ore--mere traces of radium for tons of -worthless rock--that the cost of extracting it is almost prohibitive. -You will realize this when you visit our works at Ivry." - -These works I visited the next day, and found myself outside the walls -of Paris, near the old Ivry Cemetery, where some unpretentious sheds -serve for this important business of radium extraction. One of the head -men met me and explained, step by step, how they obtain this strange and -elusive metal. First he showed me a lumpy reddish powder, sacks of it, -brought from Bohemia by the ton, and constituting the raw material from -which the radium is extracted. This powder is the refuse from uranium -mines at Jachimsthal; that is, what remains of the original uranite ore, -_pitchblende_, after the uranium has been removed. For years this refuse -was regarded as worthless, and was left to accumulate in heaps, tons of -it, quite at the disposal of whoever chose to cart it away. Now that it -is known to contain the rarest, and most precious substance in the -world, it goes without saying that the owners have begun to put a price -on it. - -My informant referred with proper pride to the difficulties that had -confronted them when they started these radium works in 1901. It was a -new problem in practical chemistry to bring together infinitesimal -traces of a metal lost in tons of _débris_. It was like searching for -specks of dust hidden in a sand heap, or for drops of perfume scattered -in a river. Still, they went at it with good heart, for the end -justified the effort. If it took a ton of uranite dust to yield as much -radium as would half fill a doll's thimble, then the thing to do was to -have many tons of this dust sent on from Bohemia, and patiently to -accumulate, after months of handling, various pinches of radium, a few -centigrammes, then a few decigrammes, and finally some day--who could -tell?--they might get as much as a gramme. This was a distant prospect, -to be sure, yet with infinite pains and all the resources of chemistry -it might be attained. Well, now they had attained it, and at this time, -he said, some eight tons of uranite detritus had passed through the -caldrons and great glass jars and muddy barrels of the Ivry -establishment, had been boiled and filtered and decanted and -crystallized, with much fuming of acids and the steady glow of furnaces; -and out of it all, for the twenty-four months' effort, there had come -just about a gramme of practically pure chloride of radium--enough white -powder to fill a salt-spoon. - -When next I saw M. Curie he had just returned from London, where he had -lectured before the Royal Institution. His hands were much peeled, and -very sore from too much contact with radium, and for several days he had -been unable to dress himself; but he took it good-naturedly, and -proceeded to describe some of the experiments he had made before British -scientists. - -[Illustration: M. CURIE EXPLAINING THE WONDERS OF RADIUM AT THE -SORBONNE. THIS EXPERIMENT WITH THE RADIUM LIGHT IS DESCRIBED IN THE -ARTICLE.] - -In order to demonstrate that radium throws off heat continually he took -two glass vessels, one containing a thermometer and a tube of radium, -the other containing a thermometer and no radium. Both vessels were -closed with cotton, and it was presently seen that the thermometer in -the vessel containing the radium registered constantly 5·4 degrees F. -higher than the thermometer which was not so influenced. - -The most striking experiment presented by M. Curie in his London -lecture was one devised by him to prove the existence of radium -emanations, a kind of gaseous product (quite different from the rays) -which this extraordinary metal seems to throw off constantly as it -throws off heat and light. These emanations may be regarded as an -invisible vapour of radium, like water vapour, only infinitely more -subtle, which settles upon all objects that it approaches and confers -upon them, for a time at least, the mysterious properties of radium -itself. Thus the yellow powder sulphide of zinc bursts into a brilliant -glow under the stimulus of radium emanations, and to make it clear that -this effect is due to the emanations and not to the rays M. Curie -constructed an apparatus in which a glass tube, R, containing a solution -of radium is connected with two glass bulbs, A and B, containing -sulphide of zinc. - -The experiment is begun by exhausting the air from the two bulbs A and -B, by means of air-pump connections through the tube E. The air is not -exhausted, however, from the tube R, over which the stop-cock F is -closed, and within which the emanations have been allowed to accumulate. -The room is now darkened, and it is seen that so long as the stop-cock F -remains closed there is no glow in the bulbs A and B, but as soon as the -stop-cock F is opened both bulbs shine brilliantly, so that the light is -plainly visible at a distance of several hundred yards. Now, obviously, -if this effect were due to the radium rays, it would be produced whether -the stop-cock F were open or closed, since the radium rays pass freely -through glass and need not follow the tube S in order to reach the bulbs -A and B. It is therefore clear that the sudden light in the bulbs is due -to the passage of _something_ out of the tube R, and through the tube S, -that _something_ being kept back by the glass of the bulb R until the -stop-cock F is opened. So we conclude that the emanations of radium -_cannot_ pass through glass, and are a manifestation quite distinct from -the rays of radium, which _can_ pass through but do not influence the -sulphide of zinc. - -[Illustration] - -This point having been established, M. Curie proceeded to the most -sensational part of his demonstration, by closing the stop-cock F and -then placing the lower bulb B, still radiant, in a vessel G containing -liquid air, the result being that the light in the bulb B gradually grew -stronger while the light in the bulb A diminished, until, presently, -_all_ the light seemed concentrated in B and gone from A, the conclusion -being that the intense cold of liquid air had produced some change in -the emanations, had possibly reduced them from a gas to a liquid, thus -withdrawing them from A to B and checking the one glow while increasing -the other. - -In talking with Sir William Crookes, M. Curie was interested to learn -that the English scientist had just devised a curious little instrument -which he has named the spinthariscope, and which allows one to actually -_see_ the emanations from radium and to realize as never before the -extraordinary atomic disintegration that is going on ceaselessly in this -strange metal. The spinthariscope is a small microscope that allows one -to look at a tiny fragment of radium, about one-twentieth of a -milligramme, supported on a little wire over a screen spread with -sulphide of zinc. - -The experiment must be made in a darkened room after the eye has -gradually acquired its greatest sensitiveness to light. To the eye thus -sensitive and looking intently through the lenses the screen appears -like a heaven of flashing meteors, among which stars shine forth -suddenly and die away. Near the central radium speck the fire shower is -most brilliant, while towards the rim of the circle it grows fainter. -And this goes on continuously as the metal throws off its emanations; -these myriad bursting blazing stars _are_ the emanations--at least, we -may assume it--and become visible as the scattered radium dust or radium -vapour impinges speck by speck upon the screen, which, for each tiny -fragment, flashes back a responsive phosphorescence. M. Curie spoke of -this vision, that was really contained within the area of a two-cent -piece, as one of the most beautiful and impressive he had ever -witnessed; it was as if he had been allowed to assist at the birth of a -universe or at the death of a molecule. - -Dwelling upon the extreme attenuation of these radium emanations, M. -Curie mentioned a recent experiment, in which he had used a platinum box -pierced by two holes so extremely small that the box would retain a -vacuum, yet not small enough to resist the passage of radium emanations. - -In view of the extreme rarity and costliness of radium, it is evident -that its emanations may be put to many important uses in and out of the -laboratory, since they bestow upon indifferent objects--a plate, a piece -of iron, an old shoe, anything--the very properties of radium itself. -Thus a scientist or a doctor unable to procure the metal radium -may easily experiment with a bit of wood or glass rendered -radio-active--that is, charged by radium emanations, and capable of -replacing the original metal as long as the charge keeps its potency. -This period has been determined by the Curies after observations -extending over weeks and months, and applied to all sorts of substances, -copper, aluminium, lead, rubber, wax, celluloid, paraffin, no fewer than -fifty in all, the resulting conclusions being formulated in a precise -law as follows:-- - - (1) All substances may be rendered radio-active through the - influence of radium emanations. - - (2) Substances thus influenced retain their induced radio-activity - very much longer when guarded in a small enclosure through which - the emanations cannot pass (say a sealed glass tube) than when not - so guarded. In the former case their radio-activity diminishes - one-half every four days. In the latter case it diminishes - one-half every twenty-eight minutes. - -I must pass rapidly over various other wonders of radium that M. Curie -laid before me. New matter is accumulating every week as the outcome of -new investigations. Even in the chemistry of radium, which is -practically an unexplored field, owing to the scarcity and costliness of -the metal, there are various facts to be noted, as these: that radium -changes the colour of phosphorus from yellow to red; that radium rays -increase the production of ozone in certain cases; that a small quantity -of radium dissolved in water throws off hydrogen constantly by causing a -disintegration of the water, the oxygen released being absorbed in some -unknown molecular combination. Also that a solution of radium gives a -violet or brownish tint to a glass vessel containing it, this tint being -permanent, unless the glass be heated red hot. Here, by the way, is an -application of importance in the arts, for radium may thus be used to -modify the colours of glass and crystals, possibly of gems. It is -furthermore established that radium offers a ready means of -distinguishing real from imitation diamonds, since it causes the real -stones to burst into a brilliant phosphorescence when brought near them -in a darkened room, while it has scarcely any such effect upon false -stones. M. Curie made this experiment recently at a reception in Lille, -to the great delight of the guests. - -Coming now to what may be the most important properties of radium--that -is, those which influence animal life--we may follow M. Curie's advice -and visit the Pasteur Institute, where for some months now a remarkable -series of radium tests has been in progress. - -M. Danysz is convinced that all animals, probably all forms of life, -would succumb to the destructive force of radium if employed in -sufficient quantities. - -"I have no doubt," said he, "that a kilogramme of radium would be -sufficient to destroy the population of Paris, granting that they came -within its influence. Men and women would be killed just as easily as -mice. They would feel nothing during their exposure to the radium, nor -realize that they were in any danger. And weeks would pass after their -exposure before anything would happen. Then gradually the skin would -begin to peel off and their bodies would become one great sore. Then -they would become blind. Then they would die from paralysis and -congestion of the spinal cord." - -Despite this rather gloomy prospect, certain experiments at the Pasteur -Institute may encourage us to believe that, for all its menace of -destruction, radium is destined to bring substantial benefits to -suffering humankind. The substance of these favourable experiments is -that, while animal life may undoubtedly suffer great harm from radium -when used in excess or wrongly used (the same is true of strychnine), it -may also derive immense good from radium when used within proper bounds, -these to be set when we have gained a fuller knowledge of the subject. -Meantime it is worthy of note that some of M. Danysz's animals, when -exposed to the radium for a short time, or to radium of lower intensity, -or to radium at a greater distance, have not perished, but have seemed -to thrive under the treatment. - -But the most startling experiment performed thus far at the Pasteur -Institute is one undertaken by M. Danysz, February 3rd, 1903, when he -placed three or four dozen little worms that live in flour, the larvæ -_Ephestia kuehniella_, in a glass flask, where they were exposed for a -few hours to the rays of radium. He placed a like number of larvæ in a -control flask where there was no radium, and he left enough flour in -each flask for the larvæ to live upon. After several weeks it was found -that most of the larvæ in the radium flask had been killed, but that a -few of them had escaped the destructive action of the rays by crawling -away to distant corners of the flask, where they were still living. But -_they were living_ _as larvæ, not as moths_, whereas in the natural -course they should have become moths long before, as was seen by the -control flask, where the larvæ had all changed into moths, and these had -hatched their eggs into other larvæ, and these had produced other moths. -All of which made it clear that the radium rays had arrested the -development of these little worms. - -[Illustration: M. CURIE TESTING DIAMONDS AT A RECEPTION AT LILLE.] - -More weeks passed and still three or four of the larvæ lived, and four -full months after the original exposure I saw a larva alive and -wriggling while its contemporary larvæ in the other jar had long since -passed away as aged moths, leaving generations of moths' eggs and larvæ -to witness this miracle, for here was a larva, venerable among his kind, -a patriarch _Ephestia kuehniella_, that had actually lived through -_three times the span of life accorded to his fellows_, and that still -showed no sign of changing into a moth. It was very much as if a young -man of twenty-one should keep the appearance of twenty-one for two -hundred and fifty years! - -Not less remarkable than these are some recent experiments made by M. -Bohn at the biological laboratories of the Sorbonne, his conclusions -being that radium may so far modify various lower forms of life as to -actually produce "monsters," abnormal deviations from the original type -of the species. Thus tadpole monsters have been formed from tadpoles -exposed four days after birth to radium rays. Some of these monsters -lived for twenty-three days, and would doubtless have lived longer had -they been exposed to the rays for a shorter time. No changes occur in -the tadpoles treated except at the transition points of growth, as on -the eighth day, when the breathing tentacles are covered by gills in the -normal tadpole, but are not so covered in the monsters formed after -radium treatment. These monsters take on a new form, with an increasing -atrophy of the tail and a curious wrinkling of the tissues at the back -of the head; in fact, they may be said to develop a new breathing -apparatus, quite different from that of ordinary tadpoles. - -M. Bohn has obtained similar results with eggs of the toad and eggs of -the sea-urchin, monsters resulting in both cases and continuing to live -for a number of days or weeks after exposure to the radium. Furthermore, -he has been able to accomplish with radium what Professor Loeb did with -saline solutions--that is, to cause the growth of unfecundated eggs of -the sea-urchin, and to advance these through several stages of their -development. In other words, he has used radium _to create life_ where -there would have been no life but for this strange stimulation. - -M. Bohn assured me of his conviction that we may in the future be able -to produce new species of insects, moths, butterflies, perhaps birds and -fishes, by simply treating the eggs with radium rays, the result being -that interesting changes will be effected in the colouring and -adornment. He also believes that, with greater quantities of radium at -our disposal and a fuller understanding of its properties, it may be -possible to produce new species among larger creatures, mice, rabbits, -guinea-pigs, etc. It is merely a question of degree, for if new types -can be produced in one species why may they not be produced in another? - -It remains to mention certain important services that radium may render -in the cure of bodily ills, notably of lupus and other skin diseases. -Here is a great new field full of promise, yet one that must be -considered with guarded affirmation, lest false hopes be aroused. It is -too soon as yet to say more than this, that distinguished doctors speak -with confidence of excellent results that may be looked for from the -radium treatment. Dr. Danlos, for instance, has used the radium rays on -lupus patients at the St. Louis Hospital in Paris for over a year, and -in several cases has accomplished apparent cures. The radium used is -enclosed between two small discs of copper and aluminium, the whole -being about the size of a silver dollar. The aluminium disc, which is -very thin, is pressed against the affected part and left there for -fifteen minutes; that is all there is in the treatment, except -cleansing, bandaging, etc. Day after day, for weeks or months, this -contact with the disc is continued, and after a period of irritation the -sores heal, leaving healthy white scars. Some patients thus treated have -gone for months without a relapse, but it is too soon to declare the -cures absolute. They _look like_ absolute cures, that is all Dr. Danlos -will say, and if time proves that they _are_ absolute cures, then radium -will do for lupus patients all that Finsen's lamps do, and will do it -more quickly, more simply, and with no cumbersome and costly apparatus. -It may be objected that radium also is costly, but the answer is that -radium will probably become cheaper as the supply increases and as the -processes of extracting it are perfected. Furthermore, the effects of -radium may be obtained, as already stated, by the use of indifferent -bodies rendered radio-active, so that lupus patients may be treated with -a piece of wood or a piece of glass possessed for the moment of the -virtues of radium. And certain kinds of cancer may be similarly treated; -indeed, a London physician has already reported a case of cancer cured -by radium. - -These are possibilities, _not_ certainties, and there are others. It -appears that radium has a bactericidal action in certain cases, and it -would therefore seem reasonable that air rendered radio-active may -benefit sufferers from lung troubles if breathed into the lungs, or that -water rendered radio-active may benefit sufferers from stomach troubles -if taken into the stomach. It goes without saying that in all these -cases the use of radium must be attended with extreme precautions, so -that harmful effects may be avoided. - -Just as I was leaving Paris I learned of an interesting and significant -new fact about radium, one that greatly impressed M. Curie--namely, that -the air from deep borings in the earth is found to be radio-active, and -that the waters from mineral springs are radio-active. This would seem -to indicate the presence of radium in the earth in considerable -quantities, and that would mean more abundant and cheaper radium in the -not distant future. One of the things to be hoped for now is the -discovery of a single simple reaction by which radium may be easily -separated from the dross that contains it, and any day the chemists may -put their hands on such a reaction. - -And then--well, it is best to avoid sweeping statements, but there is -certainly reason to believe that we are entering upon a domain of new, -strange knowledge and drawing near to some of Nature's most hallowed -secrets. - - - - -_Trousers in Sculpture._ - -BY RONALD GRAHAM. - - -"Who will deliver us from the modern trouser?" once publicly asked a -Royal Academician. It has been a question repeatedly propounded since -the beginning of the last century, when this much-mooted garment came -into fashionable vogue. - -Trousers have at length passed permanently into Art. They have been -depicted in glowing pigments and embodied in enduring bronze and marble. -They have become classical. They have exacted the patience of the -greatest painters and most talented sculptors for a full century in -portraying them, as well as taxed the ingenuity of the noblest tailors -in constructing them. - -The time has arrived, we opine, for trousers to be considered as public -and not merely as private embellishments. We shall leave other hands to -write the history of the two long cylindrical bags which are at once the -pride of the swell mobsman and, as we shall show, the dire despair of -the sculptor, who can no longer emulate the example of Phidias, and -represent his patrons in the superlatively light clothing of the annexed -illustration--a corner in a well-known sculptor's studio. - -Assuming that the modern trouser is a necessity--and we believe it is -regarded as such, at least primarily--the point arises, how is the -modern trouser to be made picturesque in Art? - -The tailor's notion of the ideal in trousers and that entertained by the -sculptor are separated by a wide gulf, which very few of the latter -fraternity show any disposition to bridge. - -It will never be known how many exponents of the sartorial art, who have -in their time fitted masterpieces to the limbs of Lord Derby, Lord -Palmerston, Lord Beaconsfield, Sir Robert Peel, and other statesmen, -have sighed to see their art transmitted at the sculptor's hands to -posterity mutilated by folds, deformed by creases, gifted with -impossible falls over the boot, and endowed with plies at the knee which -not ten years of incessant wear could be supposed to produce. - -[Illustration: ANCIENT VERSUS MODERN. THE LATE GEORGE PALMER AND -PERSEUS. - - _From a_] - - [_Photo._ -] - -"Trousers," remarked Mr. Thomas Brock, R.A., "cannot be made -artistic--at any rate in statuary. The painter is better equipped to -grapple with the task than the sculptor. He has light, colour, and shade -at his command, and may so subordinate these elements as to render the -objectionable features of our modern costume less obtrusive. At no time -have we been so little attractive from a picturesque standpoint as -to-day. It is, therefore, eminently the desire of the sculptor to employ -modern street costume as little as possible. It was formerly the custom -in a full-length statue to drape the figure in a Roman toga or long -cloak, which lent an heroic effect to the most prosaic theme. Costume of -the last century was decidedly picturesque--as you may observe in this -model of the Robert Raikes statue erected on the Thames -Embankment--where knee-breeches, stockings, and shoe-buckles replace -trousers." An example of Mr. Brock's treatment of the modern trouser may -be seen in his Colin Campbell herewith reproduced. - -[Illustration: SIR COLIN CAMPBELL, BY T. BROCK, R.A. - -_From a Photo._] - -To illustrate the attitude taken by the sculptor generally it may be -observed that as yet, notwithstanding the many recent additions of -full-length statues in the northern nave, only a single pair of -sculptured trousers have found their way into Westminster Abbey. But, as -will be seen from a perusal of the views held by Hamo Thornycroft, R.A., -this condition of affairs will not be enduring. - -"It is quite impossible," said Mr. Thornycroft, "to go back to the old -style, as did the sculptors of less than a century ago, and clothe our -heroes in antique draperies. One must follow the costume of the period. -I have a hope that what appears conventional now will possess an -interest and even a picturesqueness to our posterity. I have modelled -Lord Granville in evening dress, which displays the trousers -conspicuously, and my recent statue of Steurt Bayley is likewise -apparelled in modern costume. Nevertheless, I do not believe any -sculptor should slavishly adhere to the canons of form laid down by the -tailor. The tailor is, of course, merely carrying out the whims of his -fashionable patron, who is not always the most intellectual being -extant. Although I am told that some statesmen like Mr. Chamberlain are -scrupulous as to the perfect fit of their trousers, yet I should no more -dream, if called upon to-morrow to make a statue of one of these eminent -gentlemen, of modelling an upright pair of creaseless cylinders than I -should paint in the shade of the cloth. No, I could never bring myself -to model a pair of trousers such as are daily seen in Piccadilly. I have -an ideal and I propose to carry it out. The folds, the creases, and the -plies instil life into the work. An artist has a duty to perform in -ennobling his work--even though that duty be no more than constructing -trousers of marble. It does not lie in perpetuating the fleeting follies -of fashion." - -[Illustration: JOHN BRIGHT, BY HAMO THORNYCROFT, R.A. - -_From a Photo._] - -Mr. Thornycroft has succeeded very well with the trousers of his John -Bright statue. As trousers, and as characteristic trousers, we defy the -most captious hypercritic to urge anything against them. They are -precisely the sort of leg-covering the late eminent statesman ought to -have worn, nor do we doubt that, had he been actuated by that due regard -for sartorial proprieties which the artist seeks at the hands, or rather -at the legs, of eminent persons, he would have worn them. But an -intimate friend of Mr. Bright's, who has, at our request, minutely -surveyed the bronze statue at Rochdale, readily pronounces his opinion -that the trousers are not by any means his fellow-townsman's. "The -material is too thin," he writes. "John Bright's trousers were of extra -heavy West of England cloth. They bagged a lot at the knees, but fitted -rather tightly at the calves. The boots are certainly not his," he adds; -and then, as if to justify this oracular style of speech, "I know -because there was no carpet on the floor of the room where Mr. Bright -and myself habitually met; so I studied his lower extremities while he -spoke to me instead." - -[Illustration: THE GAMBETTA STATUE, PARIS. - -_From a Photo._] - -In the course of a conversation with the French sculptor, M. Jean -Carries, that artist once defined to the writer the whole position of -the French school of to-day. - -"Its aim is life--animation--drama. To leave anything dormant is to -leave the stone as you found it, and to acknowledge the futility of your -genius. All the characteristics of life might be imparted to even a -modern street costume. - -"Only a tailor or a person deficient in culture would criticise the -trousers of the Gambetta statue. Such a person would say, 'But I have -never seen them in the Boulevards or in the Palais Bourbon.' Of course -he has not; and what then? Did Raphael ever see an angel, or Michael -Angelo a faun? No. A pair of widely-cut trousers with a single crease or -fold might answer very well for a tailor's dummy; but it would not do at -all for a chiselled human figure, which must express potential life." - -"Idealism? Sense of the picturesque? Fiddlesticks!" declared Mr. George -Wade, an exceptionally talented English sculptor, pausing in his work of -modelling a full-length statue of a recently-deceased statesman. "Unless -art in portraiture possess a rigid fidelity it is not, in my humble -judgment, worth the cost of the stone or bronze necessary to evolve it. -Idealism!--that is the cry of the sculptor who is deficient--who is -dependent rather upon the resources of a departed school than of -himself. Why should a sculptor seek to be otherwise than faithful, even -to the buttons on the waistcoat of his subject? To cite an instance, -some time ago Sir Charles Tupper, viewing my first model for the -MacDonald statue, observed: 'I see you have buttoned only a single -button of Sir John's coat. I never remember seeing my friend's coat not -entirely buttoned. It was one of his characteristics.' When my visitor -left I destroyed the old and commenced a new model. - -[Illustration: SIR JOHN MACDONALD, BY G. E. WADE. - -_From a Photo._] - -"If it is characteristic of the subject in hand to wear disreputable -trousers--very good. I should so model them. If, on the contrary, they -were worn faultlessly smooth, it would contribute nothing to my -conception of the wearer's identity to invest them with bulges and -creases which, if not absolutely and physically impossible, would only -be so in Pongee silk and not in the heavy fabric usually employed in -trousering. I am not aware that public personages clothe their limbs in -Pongee silk. Were this the case it would be so much the better for us. -In practice I do not believe in that picturesque ruggedness about the -knees which seems so attractive to the average sculptor. I am told that -Sir Edward Burne-Jones spent many hours in the course of a single day in -the study and device of new complex folds and sinuosities in the most -delicate textile stuffs, and that it seems not altogether irrational to -believe is the employment of many English and French sculptors when they -set about making a pair of trousers. - -[Illustration: A STABLEMAN, BY G. E. WADE. - -_From a Photo._] - -"If you cannot be original," comments Mr. Wade, "be bizarre. Palm off -meretricious effect for truth. Why not be content with the individuality -which reveals itself in the limb's attitude as well as in its drapery? -Mr. Smith did not stand as the Duke of Connaught does--Paderewski's -posture is not that of Lord Roberts. No; you cannot create character by -kneading your clay into all sorts of weird concavities and convexities. -It is not true to life." - -[Illustration: THE HON. DAVID CARMICHAEL, BY J. ADAMS-ACTON. - - _From a_] - - [_Photo._ -] - -We do not deny character to perfect garments. They may each and all -breathe a distinct individuality, and so far the requirements of Art are -met. Compare those already mentioned with the rest--compare Colin -Campbell's or Mr. Clarkson's legs with Mr. Palmer's of biscuit fame--and -the contrast tells it's own tale. But to enforce our point, in spite even -of the eloquent utterances of Mr. Wade, we, who were privileged to have -seen Sir John MacDonald in the flesh, assert positively that we never -saw that flesh draped in such trousers. The fact is, certain men never -wore such trousers. With one or two exceptions the trousers presented in -the course of this article--examples collated with no little care--are -artistic trousers, trousers of Art, and never intended to be trousers of -Reality, because the trousers of Reality either express too much or too -little, or express something entirely in dissonance with the sculptor's -idea of the character he is modelling. Nature, it has been observed, -does not lend itself readily to the canons of Art. As it was long ago -settled that carved statesmen must wear breeches of ultra length, when -it appears that in life they are foolishly addicted to garments of -unseemly brevity, it is only proper that this sad circumstance should be -blotted out in the studio, and a veil, composed of a yard or two of -extra trousering, be drawn over this painful deficiency in their several -characters. Had they been stablemen they might have fared differently, -although we can have little to object to in the nether garments of Mr. -Adams-Acton's Hon. David Carmichael in the accompanying photograph. - -[Illustration: LORD ROSEBERY'S TROUSERS, BY DAVID WEEKES. - -_From a Photo._] - -[Illustration: JOHN BURNS'S TROUSERS, BY DAVID WEEKES. - -_From a Photo._] - -On the other hand, there have been sculptors who strive hard for -sartorial realism. The trousers no more than the limbs of all our great -men are faultless. At a glance we may appreciate shades of difference in -the interesting studies by Mr. David Weekes of the trousers of Lord -Rosebery and of Mr. John Burns. The former are the garments to the life, -such as have long been familiar to the fortunate occupiers of the front -rows at Liberal political meetings--redolent of the lonely furrow and on -intimate terms with the historic spade--while as for the tumid and -strenuous breeches of the member for Battersea, corduroy or otherwise, -they are chiselled to the last crease of realism. But such is the -perversity of Art that such interesting studies would in the finished -statue be exchanged for far less convincing garments. The legs of the -Palmerston and Peel statues in Parliament Square are clothed in what we -might term a suave trouser--or, more properly speaking, pantaloons--of -incredible length and irreproachable girth; whereas those whose eyes -have rested upon these great statesmen's garments in the flesh will -recall something eminently different. For example, if we do not too -greatly err in our conception, Lord Palmerston, in his later years, was -somewhat addicted to a style of trouser not often seen in sculpture. -Happily, in the studio of Mr. Wade, we have been able to light upon an -example of just the sort of trouser we mean, and in order more to -accurately impress its proportions upon the reader we give an example of -it. It is not the trouser of a statesman, however, but of a stableman, a -personage in a lower station in life (page 77). - -[Illustration: W. E. GLADSTONE, BY E. ONSLOW FORD, R.A. - -_From a Photo._] - -A reference might here be made to the trousers of Mr. Gladstone, -executed in bronze by the late Onslow Ford, R.A. The artist in this -piece displayed extraordinary qualities of merit, but as realists we -must take issue with him on the question of the length of Gladstone's -trousers. Albeit if Mr. Gladstone, in posing for this really admirable -work, undertook, with an eye to the effects the consequence would have -with posterity, to assume for the nonce an unusual and unprecedented -pair of trousers, then, of course, Mr. Ford merits a complete -exoneration. He, like posterity will be, was deceived. But we take it -upon ourselves, while admiring their aggressiveness and individuality, -to assert that such trousers would be much more befitting Mr. Balfour, -whose "tailor's length," we are given to understand, is thirty-six -inches, rather than the venerable Liberal statesman, whose nether -adornments never exceeded twenty-eight. - -[Illustration: W. S. COOKSON, BY T. BROCK, R.A. - -_From a Photo._] - -Indeed, we shall not be at a loss if we seek for examples of the trouser -which is manufactured exclusively in the studio of the sculptor. Mr. -Brock is certainly a great sinner in this regard (we have only to turn -to his statues of the late Mr. Cookson and Collin Campbell), and Mr. -Adams-Acton has shown in his statue of the late Professor Powell that -he, too, does not always follow the fashion of the street. We think we -can safely lay down the proposition once for all that no trousers can -possess simultaneously both properties--length and bagginess. We have -every confidence in the tailor as well as the greatest admiration for -his art, and we do not wish to be considered as speaking lightly or at -random when we say that long deliberation and consultation with the -highest authorities have shown us that these two qualities are -irreconcilable. We must, therefore, in all fairness condemn several -pairs of chiselled trousers which seem to us to violate this law, as -even the elegant continuations with which, thanks to Mr. Simonds, the -late Hon. F. Tollemache stands for ever endowed, the inexpressibles of -the late Mr. Palmer, and even Mr. Pinker's genteel specimens upon the -legs of the late Professor Fawcett. - -[Illustration: THE HON. FREDERICK TOLLEMACHE, BY GEORGE SIMONDS. - - _From a_] - - [_Photo._ -] - -[Illustration: JOHN POWELL, BY J. ADAMS-ACTON. - -_From a Photo._] - -After all we have said, it is to Nottingham that we must attribute the -unique distinction of possessing the worst pair of sculptured trousers -in the kingdom. They adorn the legs of the late local worthy, Sir Robert -Juckes-Clifton; and, as the reader will see from the accompanying -photograph, embody not inadequately the talented sculptor's dream. That -they embody anything but a dream it is out of our power to believe, as -we are reliably informed that it is not in the nature of our most -flexible English tweeds to assume such grotesque folds, unless there are -goods in the Midlands, for which the lamented Sir Robert Juckes-Clifton -expressed a weakness, which surpass ordinary material in this respect. -After all, they are not so bad as Gambetta's trousers in the statue -opposite the Louvre in Paris, already alluded to and reproduced on page -76. The sculptor's aim was apparently to breech his subject -æsthetically, and he has spared no pains to bring about this result. As -a matter of truth, M. Alphonse Daudet has borne printed witness to the -fact that Gambetta's trousers were invariably too short--not too -long--and revealed some inches of white sock. But could a sculptor be -expected to take cognizance of this? - -[Illustration: SIR ROBERT JUCKES-CLIFTON--"THE WORST PAIR OF SCULPTURED -TROUSERS IN THE KINGDOM." - - _From a_] - - [_Photo._ -] - -All our readers probably are familiar with the magic name of -Poole--tailor by appointment to a score of Royalties. Poole is to men's -attire what Worth is to women's. It would be strange if the artists of -Savile Row did not have a good-natured grievance against their -fellow-artists of the adjacent Burlington House. - -"I shouldn't be surprised," stated the head of the firm, not without -diffidence--for it is one of the traditional principles of Poole since -Beau Brummel's time to evince a becoming reticence toward the public -aspect of his craft, "if the uninitiated person who contemplates our -public statues is forced to conclude that to wear shocking bad trousers -is one of the first essentials to political distinction. Why, many of -the statues which I have seen in London and the provinces are a standing -reproach to us. I dare say, on the other hand, the sculptor who -reconstructs our creations is convinced that he is improving upon us, -but I think there can be but one mind between the sculptor and ourselves -as to how a pair of trousers should hang in real life. And if real life, -why not in sculpture? - -"I may also observe that the classical fall of the sculptured trouser -over the boot is absolutely the contrivance of the artist, and is -impossible from the tailor's standpoint. Again, although many gentlemen -in real life follow the fashion so far as to wear trousers which just -touch the upper portion of the boot, the trouser of sculpture is always -of superlative length, in spite of the multifarious folds and creases -which one would think, according to common physical laws, would tend to -diminish that length." - -"An artist," writes Mr. E. F. Benson, in one of his novels, -"Limitations," "must represent men and women as he sees them, and he -doesn't see them nowadays either in the Greek style or the Dresden -style.... To look at a well-made man going out shooting gives one a -sense of satisfaction. What I want to do is to make statues like them, -which will give you the same satisfaction.... I want to make trousers -beautiful, and women's evening dress beautiful, and shirt-sleeves -beautiful. I don't mean that I shall ever make them beautiful in the -same way as the robes of the goddesses in the Parthenon pediments are -beautiful, but I shall make them admirable somehow." - -And that is the great problem for the sculptors of the twentieth -century. - - - - -The Coils of Fate. - -BY L. J. BEESTON. - -[Illustration] - - -I. - -"If you ever kill a man, my friends--ah! but you may--take care to -dispossess the mind of haunting fancies. Murder is a wrong against -society, certainly. So is borrowing a sovereign which you do not intend -to return. Both may be forgotten." - -Vassilitch spoke across the dinner-table. His unconventional philosophy -was meant for every ear there, though he addressed himself to his -host--George Etheridge, of Hollowfield Court. - -Gabrielle Rupinsky, the speaker's countrywoman, who was seated at his -right side, turned her head to flash into his face one look from her -calm eyes. - -A silence followed the remark; not an uncomfortable period, but rather -one of that satisfaction which we feel when a good talker ventures out -from the ruts of conversation and trite opinion. Then Tweed, a -round-faced, optimistic schoolboy of a man, said, cheerfully:-- - -"How comforting! Let us go and exterminate our enemies before they get -wind of so pleasing an assurance and exterminate us. Alas, though, we -have not altogether done with Leviticus yet; still the hangman takes -care of our consciences." - -In the first place they had been speaking about echoes. Several of the -company had heard wonderful echoes in different parts of the world. -George Etheridge had told of an echo in Bavaria which had startled -him--as it startles all to whom it speaks. He said: "You row out to the -middle of the lake. There is an immense rugged cliff on one hand, and on -the other a dense wood of pines. You fire a pistol. The sound rolls from -between precipice and forest, tossed from one to the other, gathering in -intensity and power, until it breaks like a clap of thunder overhead. -The effect is certainly terrifying. Shall I tell you of what it made me -think? Of one of those imprudent acts, one of those small sins that we -commit in an unconsidered moment, which is the trifling cause of growing -and overwhelming effects that end in cataclysm." - -The conversation having been given this serious turn, first one and then -another of Etheridge's guests recalled stories of sins that had worked -in lives as worms through a ship's planks. Tweed mocked. He was rarely -grave, but his easy heart was valued by all who knew him. He said, "You -will all give yourselves a nightmare at bedtime. Come, let us have a -murder yarn to wind up with." - -And so Vassilitch, who was no stranger to the fatalism of the Slav, and -who on that account had listened with considerable interest to the -dialogue, had suddenly roused himself to utter his views expressed -above. - -"I will repeat my advice," said he. "If you ever kill a man do not think -about it afterwards. Ah! the fantasies that we invent to torment -ourselves with!" - -Gabrielle was compelled to look at the speaker once more. As the guests -of Etheridge they had seen much of one another during the past three -days. She liked to have him by her side because he was her countryman; -also, to her eyes, he appeared to be the strongest man in the company. -And he? Whenever Mademoiselle Rupinsky came in late he was silent to -taciturnity; and when she took her place he thawed. - -"You are not--you cannot be--in earnest?" said Gabrielle. - -"Never more so, mademoiselle." - -"It is your profession that has killed your sentiment," explained -Etheridge. - -"As you will." - -Clearly they were all waiting for him to continue. He perceived that he -was the centre of observation, of interest--Ivan Féodor Vassilitch, -sometime captain of a Cossack regiment that had made a reputation for -hardihood and valour unique even amongst those northern soldiers whose -nerves have the iron coldness of their ice-plains. He raised his glass, -emptied it, and went on:-- - -"I tell you, my friends, that if circumstance compels you to such an act -as I have spoken of, then any future terrors must be entirely the -product of a superstitious imagination. No spirit will haunt you save -that which you yourself conjure by bending the mind continually to that -idea. No worm of remorse will tear your peace unless you believe liars -who tell you it exists." - -[Illustration: "'YOU ARE NOT--YOU CANNOT BE--IN EARNEST?' SAID -GABRIELLE."] - -That was all. None cared to argue the point. He was so quietly certain -of his philosophy; so terribly sure. - -An hour later Vassilitch was addressed by Gabrielle. "I should like five -minutes' talk with you," she said. - -He expressed both readiness and pleasure, and he spoke the truth. They -passed out into the garden, after he had insisted that she should cover -her shoulders with a wrap, for the dews of late autumn were condensing -and falling imperceptibly on the still trees and flowers. - -"Will you sit down?" - -"I should prefer to walk slowly." He saw her bosom rise and fall in -agitation, and he wondered what was coming. - -"Monsieur, I have a story to tell you. Of all the men I know, you can -best appreciate it. It may be that you will care to help me--ah! do not -be too ready; my request, if I prefer it, is altogether an unusual one, -and such as only you might understand, and I. These Englishmen have cold -hearts; passion with them is slow to catch fire and easy to be -extinguished." - -"You speak of love, mademoiselle?" said Vassilitch, uneasily. - -"No." - -"Then it must be revenge. I am all attention." - -"You have heard of that society that call themselves 'The Scourge'? Of -their political opinions I know nothing. Three years ago the police -broke into a Moscow cellar and captured fifteen of this confraternity. -Of the ultimate fate of those fifteen I also know nothing, but the end -that came to one has been told me. He, at any rate, was a man, and a -true Russian." - -Gabrielle caught her breath with a gasp, paused a moment, then -continued:-- - -"He was deprived of civil rights, his property confiscated, and he -himself sent into exile. He escaped from a convict station in the -Trans-Baikal. He gained the woods, but it was winter, and you know what -that means." - -"Ah!" muttered Vassilitch, twisting his black moustache and watching the -pale face of his beautiful companion. - -"I have not seen those dreary forests, but I have heard and read of -them; how packs of hungry wolves seek food and cannot find it; and how -the _varnaks_--those wretches who have committed real crimes--infest the -lonely pathways at evening to rob and murder. They say that the police -kill them as dogs." - -"Pardon, mademoiselle; you must not credit these wild tales." - -"But I do believe them. Listen. This poor exile, after he had wandered -for days in that dead land, was discovered by a band of Cossacks riding -along a forest path. He was seized. Their officer cried out that he was -a _varnak_, a _bradyaga_, and ordered that he should be shot. You start; -perhaps this story has reached your ears?" - -"No, no," said the other, quickly. "Pray go on." - -"The exile protested that he was an escaped political prisoner. He was -not believed. The officer again repeated his order. A soldier was about -to obey, but the other threw the man from his horse. Instantly a dozen -carbines were levelled, but the officer, convulsed with passion, cried -out, 'You will tie this scoundrel to a tree, eight feet above the -ground, and leave him to the wolves.' Ah! why do you recoil from me? Do -you not believe this story? I tell you that it is absolutely true in -every detail." - -Gabrielle was trembling with emotion. - -"It is quite cold out here; you will catch your death. Let us go -indoors," said Vassilitch, harshly. - -She continued unheedingly. "The command of that monster was obeyed by -his men. The victim was lashed to the trunk of a pine tree, high above -the ground. The Cossacks rode away, laughing, and left him there until -the wolves should come to surround the tree, to bite it through with -their sharp teeth, and then--and then----" - -A gleam of lightning passed over the sky, and the rumble of thunder -followed. - -"Do you recollect the talk at the table?" said Gabrielle; "about echoes? -This act is one of those that return to break in thunder upon the -perpetrator." - -The ex-captain of Cossacks shrugged his shoulders. "What is your -request?" he demanded. - -Gabrielle stopped in the garden path and faced him. A faint light from -the windows of the mansion fell upon her form with its perfect lines, -its loveliness. She was conscious of her beauty then, and she knew that -he was conscious of it. - -"Find the man who did this thing." - -He was silent. - -"You think me revengeful? I acknowledge it. Right or wrong, for three -years I have prayed for this." - -"Mademoiselle, I must ask you two questions: The name of your -informant?" - -"I am pledged not to give it. He was a trooper in the band who obeyed -the orders of their officer." - -"That is unfortunate, for I should much like to know his name. Let that -pass. Question number two: What was this prisoner to you that his fate -should awake these feelings of deep sorrow and revenge?" - -For an instant Gabrielle hesitated, while his eyes appeared to be -reading her inmost thoughts. Then she said, "He was a brother." - -"Ah!" - -Vassilitch was clearly relieved by the answer. He said, "This will, of -course, necessitate a journey to Russia. Well, I will find this man." - -"And you will challenge him?" - -"I will challenge him." - -"And you will kill him?" - -"If by that time you still wish it--yes, I will kill him." - -They looked into one another's eyes, adding no further word. A heavy -clap of thunder broke and rolled overhead. - -"You had better go in now," said Vassilitch. - -He left her at the doors of the French windows, while he lighted a cigar -and went again into the garden. Suddenly he turned. He perceived that -she was yet standing, gazing after him. He could see her in the aureole -of light, though she could not see him in the outer gloom. - -"How beautiful she is!" muttered Vassilitch. - -He flung down his cigar, put his foot upon it, and ground it into the -earth. - - -II. - -"Expensive? Rather. You cannot get diggings in Regent Street for a -song." Tweed rose, threw up the window, sat down again, and added, -"Especially over a jeweller's shop. They are so careful. There is -nothing but a plank, my dear Boris, between us and thousands of pounds' -worth of glittering things." - -"It is very nice here," said Boris Stefanovitch, looking across to the -Quadrant with wistful, melancholy eyes. - -"'Twill serve. They are not bad for bachelors' quarters. My only fear is -that one day I may get my head into the matrimonial noose. Do not laugh; -it is too serious. There are many who feel in the same way. We are -determined not to marry. We build a hedge, and dig a trench, and raise a -tower; but--but----" Tweed shrugged his shoulders. "Halloa, it is -beginning to snow," he added, abruptly. "Do you feel cold? I will close -the window." - -"Pray do not. I had an idea that it never snowed in England. This wind -is most refreshing." - -"I am glad you think so," said Tweed, pushing back his chair as a rush -of raw air swept into the apartment. "No doubt a cutting blast like this -is a summer breeze to you after your----" He pulled himself up suddenly. -That was a subject that he never cared to be the first to open. - -There was the rattle of descending iron shutters. They were closing the -shop on the ground floor. The white flakes were driving by in dizzying -confusion. Almost every cab had an occupant. A hushed roar told of the -traffic at Piccadilly Circus. - -Stefanovitch said, quietly, "Well, I shall return to Russia." - -"You will do nothing of the sort," was the equally quiet reply. - -"There is a difference in our cases. You wish to live without love; and -I--to me love is life. This silence is not to be endured. Why no -response to my letters? I shall wait one more month, and then I shall go -to Moscow." - -"You dare not! Haven't you seen enough of Russian prisons?" - -"More than three years since I set eyes on her," muttered the other; and -his face, which bore the marks of much suffering, became all at once -haggard with perplexity. - -"Three years is a long time and a hard test," argued Tweed. - -The other caught his meaning. He smiled as he said, simply, "My friend, -you do not know this woman." - -"But I know the Trans-Baikal, and the frozen horror of your northern -swamps. And I have seen a gang of exiles, in their long, earth-coloured -coats, women and men, chained together, living statues of despair, -tramping, tramping, and the soldiers with their bayonets fixed----" - -"Don't!" said Stefanovitch. But the other went on unheedingly. - -"And I have seen your northern forests in winter, shrouded in snow, with -an Arctic wind rattling down the pine needles, bending the cedars, and -the fir trees making a sound that gives you the shivers. And I have seen -the wolves there. They appear to rise out of the ground. Once they -chased me for three leagues. We were in a tarantass, and were nearly -caught, by Jove! What brutes! Every tooth looked like a dagger. And -frequently a poor wretch will escape from a convict station and try to -hide himself in these forests----" - -[Illustration: "HE PERCEIVED THAT SHE WAS YET STANDING, GAZING AFTER -HIM."] - -"Will you stop?" cried Stefanovitch, covering his eyes. - -"----will endeavour to conceal himself in one of these forests; but -either he starves to death or the wolves get him, or perhaps a party of -soldiers, say Cossacks, come upon him and take him for a _varnak_. And I -have known one instance in which the man, having resisted authority, was -lashed to a tree to wait for the wolves. He succeeded in releasing -himself, it is true; and ultimately he escaped from the country, -but----" - -"Enough, enough!" implored Stefanovitch, as if appalled by some memory -that had seared heart and brain. - -"----but next time he will not meet with such fortune." Tweed rose and -smashed down the window. - -"Why do you recall these things to me?" said the other, huskily. - -"Why will you make a fool of yourself?" was the heated retort. "I tell -you that you shall not go back to Moscow if I can prevent it. There's -not a woman on this earth who is worth running so great a risk for. If -she will not answer your letters, you must forget her, that is all." - -"You suggest an impossibility." - -"And you suggest a madness. What are you gazing at? Do you recognise -anybody?" - -The other was looking across the roadway to where a tall, broad figure, -in a massive fur-trimmed coat, was leisurely pacing the thronged -pavement. Tweed repeated his question. - -"I--I don't know," replied Stefanovitch, indecisively. "The face of that -tall fellow--I thought it was familiar--the light is so bad--and a cab -came between----" - -"What, that fellow in the coat? How strange! I seem to know him, too. -Even his back is familiar. Let me think. Where on earth did I -meet--ah!--no, it's slipped me again. Yet I'm sure--almost sure--that -I--got it, by thunder! The man's Vassilitch--Ivan Féodor Vassilitch, a -countryman of yours; not a bad sort, but cold and hard--hard as -sheet-iron. You have met him, perhaps?" - -"The name is not familiar to me." - -"I met him at Etheridge's place in Cumberland. It was four months back." -Tweed spoke cheerily, feeling glad that the subject was changed. "There -were some nice people down there," he continued. "I should like you to -know Etheridge. Ah, yes--there was also a countrywoman of yours staying -at the place. She and Vassilitch were rather thick, we thought. A -singularly beautiful creature. Her name was Gabrielle Rupinsky. -She----What on earth is the matter?" - -"Gabrielle Rupinsky!" echoed Stefanovitch, springing so suddenly to his -feet that his chair went flying. - -"The same. Do----" - -"The daughter of old Otto Rupinsky, General of Hussars?" The speaker was -trembling with excitement. - -"That is she," said the other, astonished. - -Stefanovitch caught at his collar as if emotion were choking him. "Do -you know what you are saying?" he cried. "Fool that I was not to have -mentioned her name! This is the woman who is all--all the beauty of the -world to me. Gabrielle in England! Now it is clear why my letters were -not answered. Heaven bless you for this news. Her address--quick!" - -Tweed, overjoyed and immensely relieved, was wringing the other's hands -in his delight. "I'm afraid I can't give it you straight away," said he. -"You see, she isn't in Cumberland now. But I will write at once to -Etheridge, and you should have it within forty-eight hours. 'Pon my -word, old fellow, this is great news. Are you going?" - -"If you do not mind. A thousand thanks. I hope it is not a dream; it -seems too good to be true," he added, with pathos. "What! I shall see -Gabrielle within forty-eight hours? Shall hold her in my arms? Pardon -me; these things may not appeal to you. But if you had waited and -suffered----" - -"I know, I know," said Tweed, sympathetically. They had descended the -stairway and were at the open door. "Look here," he added, in parting, -"we have supper together at my club to-morrow night; that engagement -holds good, of course?" - -"As you will; most certainly." - -Stefanovitch pressed his friend's hand and was gone. At that moment -Tweed perceived the tall form of Ivan Vassilitch repassing. He murmured, -"I should like to renew my acquaintance with this man; he fascinated me, -rather. I'll go out and meet him." And he bounded upstairs for his coat -and hat. - - -III. - -An electric bell hummed through the cottage. - -Gabrielle put down her book in surprise. She had scarcely expected a -visitor at that late hour. Yet it was not really late, but in this -sleepy Hertfordshire village nine o'clock was considered an unusual time -for anyone to be out. - -She drew back the blind. A black night pressed against the window. The -country-side, unillumined by moon or stars, was just a wall of darkness, -as if reclaimed by "chaos and old night." - -A servant entered with a card. Gabrielle glanced at the slip of -pasteboard, and the observant maid noticed that a sudden rush of colour -swept into her mistress's face. - -"I will see him," said Gabrielle. - -There entered Ivan Féodor Vassilitch. The lines of his face relaxed at -sight of her, and a smile almost of sweetness raised his black -moustache. "Why do you not light your English country roads?" he -demanded, laughing. "I had only the light of your window to guide me for -a mile." - -"Pardon; they are not my roads," she answered, in the same bright -spirit of banter. "I am not yet naturalized. Where have you been?" - -[Illustration: "THERE ENTERED IVAN FÉODOR VASSILITCH."] - -"To Russia." He spoke the truth. - -"Ah!" Instantly she became serious. "And you returned----?" - -"Yesterday." - -"Will you sit down, monsieur?" She spoke with a palpable effort. Some -emotion had robbed her of breath. - -"Shall we go straight to our subject?" asked Vassilitch, perfectly -controlled, as he always was. - -"For what else are you here?" - -"My first thought was that I should see you; my second was that I had a -more definite errand." - -He bore her sudden coldness so steadily that she was compelled to -relent. "Well," she said, "I am very pleased to see you, monsieur." - -"You are exceedingly kind. On the day following the evening on which I -received your instructions I set about the business, and I was not long -in finding the man who worked you and yours so great a wrong." - -"Not long? Impossible that he was in England?" - -"On the contrary, mademoiselle, he was in this country. Do not ask me -how I discovered him. As an ex-officer of Cossacks you will understand -that my inquiries were respected. The task was not difficult; in fact, -it was ridiculously easy." - -"Why do you laugh like that? You found this monster; what then?" - -"He went to Russia. I went also." - -"And you challenged him there?" cried Gabrielle, and the womanly -softness fled from her eyes. - -"I did not." - -"Monsieur! monsieur!" - -"Listen. He returned to England; and I, too, followed." - -"What! You permitted him to escape? You lost this chance?" - -"Mademoiselle, there is one thing which both of us overlooked--or, -rather, of which we were in ignorance." - -"That you were afraid?" said Gabrielle, rising to her feet, with a world -of scorn and anger in her beautiful face. - -Vassilitch regarded her with steadiness; he took the word as he would -have taken a pistol ball, and again she relented. "Forgive me," she -said. "I was hasty; I wronged you." - -"Mademoiselle, the Queen can do no wrong." He took the hand she gave -him, made as if he would have raised it to his lips, then released it -with infinite gentleness. "The one important point that we overlooked," -he continued, "is that this man--I wonder if you can guess?" - -"No, no. Go on." - -"----is that this man loves you, mademoiselle." - -"Loves--me?" - -"So I discovered. You are his guiding star. To you his life points; -round you it revolves. Parted from you by an infinite distance, he is -yet bound to you by the strongest of laws, and can no more escape your -sway than the earth the pole-star to which it looks, about which it -rolls. And knowing this, I could not kill him--just yet." - -"Why, what folly is this that you are talking?" exclaimed Gabrielle, a -trifle awed in spite of herself. "You are not serious, monsieur? You -cannot be." - -Vassilitch did not answer. - -"His name? Tell me his name," was the impatient command. - -"I will tell you, but not now." - -"You are very mysterious," said Gabrielle, watching him closely. "You -must be aware that you are keeping me in suspense." - -Vassilitch rose. "It is merely a fancy of mine," said he. "I ask you to -believe that I have spoken the simple truth. I am still prepared to -carry out your instructions; but I should like you to consider the -assurance that I have given you. In a short time I hope to see you -again. Perhaps--anyhow, you know that I am your servant; you have but to -command me. I will wish you good-night, mademoiselle." - -Gabrielle extended her hand. She was troubled by the bitterness of his -smile. Certainly this man was mysterious to-night. "Where are you -staying?" she asked, suddenly, willing to prolong the conversation. - -"At the L---- Hotel." - -"You will dine with me one night? This place is quiet, but it has its -charm." - -"Nothing would delight me more." - -"To-morrow?" - -"You are very good, but I have an engagement. Do you recollect the -Englishman--I have his card here--George Tweed? That is it. He was in -Cumberland when----" - -"I remember him perfectly." - -"Well, we met this evening in London. He extracted from me a promise to -take supper with him to-morrow night. He wants me to meet a great friend -of his, and a countryman of ours, whose conversation he vowed would -interest me." - -"Indeed? Did he mention the name?" - -"Yes. It was--it was--no, it has slipped my memory. It scarcely -matters." - -A servant came at a touch of the bell. The visitor descended the stairs -and left the cottage. Impelled by a sudden impulse Gabrielle ran to the -window and pulled up the blind. He would see her standing there. What of -that? The crunch of his heavy footfall sounded upon the gravel, and his -voice came clearly--"Good-night!" She replied and felt glad. - -Gabrielle drew down the blind again and retreated into the well-lighted -room. She paused by the table and put to herself, aloud, a direct -question: "Why did I tell him that--that he was my brother?" And she -replied, in as direct a fashion: "I imagined that he--cared for me a -little. If he had known the truth should I have been able so to command -him? I cannot think so." - -The recollection of the time when she had met Ivan Vassilitch brought to -her certain details of the occasion; and suddenly she remembered that -conversation in which famous echoes that appear to gather sound and -reverberate had been likened to actions that will not leave a life. She -had compared that cruel wrong which had destroyed her peace with one of -these deeds that come back to break in thunder. She recalled the -reminiscence with a sense of uneasiness. - - -IV. - -There were half-a-dozen men in the coffee-room at the club. - -"What I like about this place," said Tweed, across the table, to -Stefanovitch, "is that they feed you well. The big restaurants have -spoilt most clubs in that respect. If ever----" he stopped, and took his -arms off the table as a uniformed waiter approached with a bottle of -champagne. The man held the dusty neck with a serviette, drew the cork, -and filled two glasses. Stefanovitch, lost in thought, did not observe -the act. When he looked down he flushed slightly as he said, "Thank you, -I do not care to drink before eating." - -The other was visibly annoyed as he glanced at the clock. "Our man is -behind time," said he. "A bad thing in a soldier. By the way, I wonder -if you do know him? I should say that he is a man of iron--one of those -fellows whom you couldn't drive nails into, to quote a picturesque -expression, and the last man on earth of whom I should care to make an -enemy." - -"You said that, when you were all together in Cumberland," answered the -other, speaking with apparent effort, "this Ivan Vassilitch, whom I am -to meet to-night, appeared rather fond of Gabrielle. Of course----" - -Tweed laughed outright. "Don't worry," said he. "Mademoiselle Rupinsky -was to him as to most of us--a beautiful statue. Her cold reserve is now -fully explained; she believes that you are either dead or yet an exile. -You will make her a happy woman to-morrow, Boris. Ah! an idea. -Vassilitch may be wiser than I. He may have her address, in which case -you will not have to wait for this letter from Etheridge. And that is a -point which will soon be settled, for here comes our man." - -The tall figure of Ivan Vassilitch appeared at the door of the spacious -coffee-room. His hat and coat had been taken from him. He at once -perceived Tweed, and dismissed with a nod the servant who had conducted -him thither. Tweed gripped his hand with almost boyish fervour. - -"So pleased to see you," said he. "Come along, I will introduce you to a -fellow-countryman who----Halloa! you know one anoth----" He broke off on -the unfinished word. - -Stefanovitch had risen to his feet. He faced Vassilitch. Into his eyes a -wild expression leaped, a look of haunting fear, of cowering terror. -Tweed, with astonishment, observed that piteous gaze, and thought -instinctively of a half-tamed animal that turns upon its master. -Stefanovitch recoiled a step, one hand grasping a chair-back, the other -clutching the table-cloth, and with all the strength of his spirit he -strove to beat down the straight look of this man who, by an hour of -horror, had well-nigh broken that spirit. - -Vassilitch was the first to break the silence. He said, unflinchingly, -"Monsieur Stefanovitch appears to recognise me. He has a good memory for -faces. Yes; we have met before." - -At the words, or the callous tone in which they were spoken, a sudden -frenzy of passion convulsed Stefanovitch. Uttering a stifled cry of -"Scoundrel!" he snatched up his untasted glass of wine and flung the -contents in the face of Vassilitch. - -[Illustration: "HE SNATCHED UP HIS UNTASTED GLASS OF WINE AND FLUNG THE -CONTENTS IN THE FACE OF VASSILITCH."] - -"Are you mad?" exclaimed Tweed, grasping the outstretched arm. - -A waiter who had observed the action took a step forward, then -hesitated, ready for developments. - -The ex-officer of Cossacks wiped the liquid from his face and coat. He -was very pale. He turned to Tweed. - -"I compliment you on the manners of your friends," said he; "they are -delightful. I have the honour to wish you good evening." He bowed -slightly, twice--the second time to Stefanovitch, who had sunk into a -chair; then he quitted the room. - - -V. - -The fatalistic idea that he was being carried onward in spite of himself -would occur insistently; he felt that he was no longer master of -circumstance. - -It was hardly to be wondered at, since it was largely a matter of -nerves. Vassilitch had returned to his hotel after the scene at the -club, and spent half the night writing a letter to Gabrielle; slept -badly, breakfasted on four cups of black coffee, spent the best part of -the day in pacing the narrow dimensions of his sitting-room, and was -now--as the afternoon waned--as undecided as ever. - -He told himself that the only clear part of the business was that he -could not do without her--no, nor would he; that he was guiltless of the -crime that had awakened her abhorrence and fierce desire for justice. -For her brother had escaped death, it appeared, and had come back. But -that brother would denounce him, would have to be reckoned with. It was -certainly awkward. The difference in their names did not puzzle him. -Doubtless the name of Stefanovitch had been assumed from political -reasons of prudence. - -But, then, he told himself, brother and sister must have met in England, -perhaps weeks, even months past. In that case Gabrielle must have -learned the truth, and so might very well be playing with him. This -thought was terrible. Yet when he called to mind the obvious surprise -and discomfiture of Stefanovitch he felt relieved. Then another -suspicion arose: what if that meeting had been a prearranged thing? It -was a little unusual that the Englishman, George Tweed, should accost -him--a mere acquaintance--in Regent Street, and invite him to supper. -Yes, it really did appear as if he were the dupe of Gabrielle and -Stefanovitch, that they were indeed amusing themselves at his expense. -If not, how strange that she should have said to him, of all men on -earth, "Kill the man who killed my brother." - -This frightful suspicion was not to be endured. He combated it, since it -was for his life. He strove to remember one soft look that she might -have given him. He had imagined at times that she trusted a little in -him. - -A firm resolve to act came at last to him. He tore into small pieces the -letter that he had written. He would see Gabrielle--would end this -torment. - -He examined a time-table and started to leave the hotel. Half-way down -the stairs he paused, returned quickly, and slipped into his pocket a -Derringer pistol, which he took, without exactly knowing why, from a -drawer. A minute later he was bowling towards King's Cross Station. - -On the platform he saw Stefanovitch, and guessed rightly that the latter -was bound for the same destination as himself. If Vassilitch had been -sure of this he would have abandoned his intention; as it was he -resolved to go on without losing sight of the other. - -The train sped from the Metropolis, rushing with piercing cries through -the winter-laden country. The short day was passing from fields and sky; -already the tops of the leafless trees mingled with the grey of evening. - -When Ivan Vassilitch alighted at his station he perceived that -Stefanovitch was before him, that he was just quitting the platform, -moving with sharp strides, as if he were in a hurry. Vassilitch had half -a mind to turn back, but, not caring to wait for perhaps a long time -till an up train came in, he almost mechanically followed the other at a -safe distance. - -Stefanovitch stopped once or twice, and appeared to make inquiries as to -his way. This mystified Vassilitch. Was it possible, he asked himself, -that Gabrielle had not met her brother; that the latter had but just set -foot in England? The consideration was comforting. - -Stefanovitch walked on with great strides, not looking behind, or -scarcely to right and left. Gabrielle's cottage was isolated from other -habitations. It was built on an eminence that was sheltered on three -sides by poplar trees, while the gravelled drive that led to the front -of the house was bordered by elms, whose branches met overhead and -formed an avenue. - -Stefanovitch was approaching the head of this avenue when he perceived, -coming toward him, the figure of a woman. His heart almost stopped -beating, then continued with great thumps of excitement. The waning, -pallid twilight obscured the form, but something in the poise of that -figure, in the walk, brought back to him a flood of dear remembrance. -With fingers that shook he lifted the latch of the gate and continued -down the avenue, that was covered with dead leaves of autumn. And then -he saw that it was indeed she. - -He cried out in stifled tones:-- - -"Gabrielle! Gabrielle!" - -She stopped; the quick panting of her breath reached his ears. - -"It is I--Boris! I have come back to you, Gabrielle--come back, after -all these years! My heart! Why do you look at me like that? No word of -welcome, Gabrielle? Ah! you thought that I was dead? My selfishness has -made me too abrupt." Stefanovitch had caught the white hands and was -drawing her towards him. - -"Yes, I--I--thought that you were--dead," answered Gabrielle. The sound -of his voice, its infinite tenderness, the joy that glowed in his eyes, -moved her so that she broke out into sobs--sobs that startled him. - -"My love! my dear love! I have frightened you. Oh, you must not cry like -that. Look at me, Gabrielle! How I have lived for you! Not one hour in -which I have not thought of you. And this, God's mercy, is greater than -His trial." Stefanovitch raised the drooping head and covered her face -with his passionate kisses. "My love! My love!" he said. - -And Gabrielle at that moment seemed to wake from a dream. Here was the -heart that she could rest upon. What other thoughts were those which she -had permitted to linger for awhile? They were fading already, were -passing with her tears. - -[Illustration: "SHE PUT HER ARMS ABOUT HIS NECK."] - -She put her arms about his neck; and so they were silent for a time, -standing motionless beneath the trees. Stefanovitch said at last:-- - -"Who told you that I was dead, little one? Who caused you such pain?" - -"It is so terrible a story. I heard that you escaped--" - -"And so I did." - -"That in the forest you were caught by a regiment of Cossacks, and -that--" - -Stefanovitch interrupted her. "What!" he cried out, "you heard of that? -Yes, it was true; but, Gabrielle, at a moment like this, when my cup is -overflowing, I can forgive even Ivan Vassilitch--" - -Gabrielle sprang from him as if he had struck her. In an instant she saw -the whole truth. The cry she would have uttered died on her parted lips. -She remained mute, bewildered, paralyzed with astonishment. - -"Ah, you know the man," said Stefanovitch. "I had forgotten that. Well, -let him pass, Gabrielle. Come, you are shivering. It is so cold out -here. May I come indoors for an hour?" - - * * * * * - -The ex-captain of Cossacks closed the gate as he left the avenue. He had -heard every word. And he had let them go. Why, he might have pistolled -Stefanovitch as he stood there! - -He remained in the snow-covered road, staring at the darkened fields, -pallid with grief and rage. - -Suddenly he snatched the Derringer from his pocket. The barrel into -which he looked was but a tiny orifice, yet wide and deep as the pit of -death. He lifted his arm. A pressure of the finger, that was all that -was needed-- - -"Bah! for a woman? She is not worth it!" - -Vassilitch fired into the air. The report echoed and re-echoed--a note -of thunder in the quiet night! - - - - -_Eccentricities of Equilibrium._ - -BY LOUIS NIKOLA. WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY THE AUTHOR. - - -As a preliminary to the practical reproduction of the experiments herein -described, it is necessary to invade the kitchen and to carry off the -following articles, viz.: four forks, a plate, a tea-cup, a bottle, some -corks, the cook's basting-ladle and strainer, and a few other odd things -which will be found enumerated from time to time in connection with the -experiments in which they become necessary. - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration] - - -1.--TO BALANCE A COIN ON THE EDGE OF A BOTTLE. - -The first experiment is a very simple one. Partly fill the bottle with -water; then take one of the corks, make a slit in one end in the -direction of its length, into which insert a coin. Next stick two forks -into the cork, on opposite sides and near the other end, at angles of -about 30deg. With the forks so placed, as balance-weights, it is an easy -matter to balance the coin upon one edge of the mouth of the bottle, as -in Fig. 1. With a steady hand it is also possible to execute the -effective termination shown in the lower portion of the same -illustration--_i.e._, to slope the bottle gradually so as to pour out a -glass of the contents, retaining the while the coin in equilibrium upon -the neck of the bottle. - - -2.--A COIN BALANCED ON A NEEDLE. - -[Illustration] - -By a slight variation of the previous arrangements the coin may be -balanced edgeways upon a needle-point and made to rapidly revolve -thereupon. Fig. 2 shows the experiment in operation. - - -3.--THE BALANCED PIN. - -To balance a pin upon a needle would seem rather a formidable -undertaking; but by an application of the same principle no considerable -difficulty is encountered. Stick the pin into another cork in position -corresponding to that of the coin in the first experiment, into which -also fix two forks as in the previous examples. With a little care it is -then quite practicable to rest the head of the pin upon the point of the -needle, where it will remain balanced as in Fig. 3. - -[Illustration] - - -4.--A PIN OR NEEDLE BALANCED HORIZONTALLY. - -[Illustration] - -By another variation of the conditions it is possible to balance the pin -upon the needle-point in a horizontal position and to make it revolve -thereon in that situation. The only alteration necessary to the -preparations already made is to substitute for the two forks two -ordinary pocket-knives. By bending the handles of the knives at an angle -to the blade, the pin may be sustained in a horizontal position. Or, by -the substitution of a long needle for the pin, the forks may be retained -as balance-weights, as in the previous example and as shown in the -present illustration. The pin may be rested upon the needle-point as in -the figure, and by a gentle touch of the finger may be set revolving. In -time, by reason of the relative differences in hardness of the two -metals, the commencement of a tiny hole will be drilled by the sharp -steel point of the needle in the softer brass of the pin, and if the -motion be continued for a sufficient length of time a hole will -ultimately be an accomplished fact. - - -5.--THE SPINNING PLATE. - -[Illustration] - -A further application of similar principles, and a plate may be balanced -and spun upon the needle-point. The corked bottle with the needle in -position remains as before. Two other corks are taken and split into two -by a vertical cut. Into one end of each half-cork, upon the flat side, -are stuck the prongs of a fork, and thus the four forks are hung at -equal distances around the edge of the plate. Then, with a little care, -the plate will be held in perfect equilibrium, as in Fig. 5. - - -6.--THE BALANCED EGG. - -[Illustration] - -Next cut a slight concavity in one end of one of the corks, so as to -adapt it as exactly as possible to one end of an egg. Then insert two -forks, as before, into the sides of the cork, letting the hollowed-out -end be the lower. Then rest the cork with the forks as counter-weights -upon the end of the egg to which the concavity has been adapted. So -aided, the egg may be balanced upon the mouth of the bottle, as in Fig. -6. - - -7.--THE WALKING CORK. - -[Illustration] - -In this case a cork with two balance-weights attached, in the shape of -forks as previously employed, is provided in addition with a pair of -legs, formed by the insertion of a couple of stout pins or small -round-headed nails into the bottom of the cork, as in Fig. 7. The figure -is placed upon an inclined narrow slip of wood at the highest point of -the incline and set gently oscillating, so that the weight is thrown -alternately on one side and then on the other, which will cause the -figure to make the descent of the incline in a series of jerks. - - -8.--THE BALANCED PENCIL. - -[Illustration] - -As shown in the illustration, this experiment is performed with a lead -pencil and a razor. The razor is partly opened and the end of the blade -fixed into the wood of the pencil about an inch or two above the point, -in the position and at about the angles shown in the illustration, Fig. -8, when the pencil may be readily balanced upon its point on the -extremity of a stout needle thrust horizontally into the bottle cork, as -shown. - - -9.--THE BALANCED LADLE. - -[Illustration] - -A development of the last experiment may be made with a basting ladle -and a razor or folding pocket-knife. Open the knife to an angle of a -little over 45deg., and engage the hook of the ladle with the outside -angle at the junction of handle and blade, as in Fig. 9, which permits -of the whole being placed in self-supporting position upon the edge of -the table, as shown. The junction of knife and ladle may be made firm, -if necessary, by a slice of cork wedged in beneath the hook of the ladle -handle. - - -10.--THE BALANCED PAIL OF WATER. - -[Illustration] - -Fig. 10 looks a little startling! There is, however, no risk if the -experiment is properly conducted. The requirements are: a kitchen table, -a pail of water, a stout, flat stick three or four feet long on which to -hang the pail, and another and slighter piece of stick. The larger stick -is first laid upon the table with about one-third of its length -projecting over the edge. The pail--empty--is next hung upon the -projecting end of the stick. The smaller stick is then placed with one -end against the inside angle of the bottom of the pail at the point -nearest the table, and the other end cut away at such a length as will -permit it to wedge tightly against the under side of the main stick, at -which point a notch may be cut in the latter to prevent slipping. The -whole bears a structural resemblance to the balanced ladle of Fig. 9. -The pail may then be partly filled with water, when it should remain -balanced as in Fig. 10. - - -11.--THE BALANCED PENCILS. - -This is an elaboration of the experiment described in paragraph 4. A -pencil is first thrust through the centre of a cork and two forks into -the sides of the cork. This will permit of the pencil being balanced -horizontally, as in Fig. 11. A second pencil is balanced by the -insertion of two pen-holders in positions relatively similar to those -which the forks bear to the balanced object in Experiments 1, 2, and 3, -and so arranged it may be balanced upon the unsupported end of the first -pencil. The whole structure may be made to revolve upon the needle. - -[Illustration] - - -12.--THE LADLE AND WINE-GLASS. - -[Illustration] - -Making use again of the basting-ladle, a cork is first fixed into the -hook of the handle, and into this is thrust the point of a knife or the -prongs of a fork, the latter being at an angle of about 45deg. or so to -the former. A glass is filled with water, and by placing the fork or -knife-handle upon the edge of the glass the ladle will balance as in -Fig. 12. - - -13.--THE BALANCED BOTTLE. - -[Illustration] - -By still another application of the basting-ladle, or a walking-stick or -umbrella, a bottle may be balanced upon a slack cord. All that is -necessary is to insert the hook of the ladle-handle or the handle of the -stick into the neck of the bottle and support upon the cord, as shown. - - -14.--THE REVOLVING COIN. - -[Illustration] - -Bend up a piece of stiff wire, such as a hairpin, into the shape shown -in the lower right-hand corner of Fig. 14, with a hook at one end and a -clip at the other, the latter adjusted to grip a coin tightly. By -hanging a fairly heavy finger-ring upon the hook as a counter-weight, -the whole may be balanced with the penny upon the point of a needle, and -made to revolve on it. - - -15.--THE REVOLVING PLATE. - -[Illustration] - -A similar experiment may be performed on a larger scale by bending up a -longer and proportionately stouter piece of wire, and substituting for -the coin a small plate and for the ring a bunch of keys--Fig. 15--or a -larger plate and a tea-cup. In the latter case the weight of the tea-cup -may be built up to counter-balance the plate by dropping a number of -coins one by one into the cup until the required weight is obtained. - - -16.--THE BALANCED WINE-GLASSES. - -This experiment is not a case of pure balancing, but depends principally -upon the nice adjustment of the two pieces of stick by means of which -the position of the two glasses is maintained. A couple of slender -pen-holders may be used, and must be trimmed down at the ends until the -right length is obtained. The position of the sticks and the manner in -which the glasses are supported can best be gathered by a study of the -illustration below. - -[Illustration] - - -17.--BALANCING CUPS. - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration] - -Simple methods of balancing a milk-jug and tea-cup respectively are -shown in Figs. 17, A and B. In the first illustration the cork is placed -inside the handle of the vessel, in which position it should fit with -moderate firmness, so as not to slip, and then two knives are thrust in, -one from each side of the handle, between the cork and the cup itself, -when the cup may be balanced upon any fixed point. In the second a cork -is fixed into the handle, as before, and into the cork the prongs of a -fork are fastened, holding the fork in such a position as to bring the -centre of gravity below the point of suspension. The cup may then be -balanced as before. - - -18.--THE BALANCED PLATE. - -[Illustration] - -This is a rather more elaborate experiment and one of the most effective -of the whole series. The requirements are: a plate, the basting-ladle -used in previous experiments, and, in addition, a "skimmer." The handle -of the ladle is hooked over the edge of the plate and made secure by a -wedge cut from a bottle cork. The opposite edge of the plate is then -rested upon the edge of a bottle in the position shown in Fig. 18, and -the handle of the skimmer is finally hooked into the bowl of the ladle, -making the structure shown. - - -19.--THE BALANCED TUMBLERS. - -[Illustration] - -Here is a little after-dinner experiment requiring some delicacy of -manipulation. The end in view is to balance three tumblers one upon the -edge of the other as in Fig. 19. With two tumblers the experiment is -comparatively easy: with the third it becomes a genuine test of skill. - - -20.--THE BALANCED SHOVEL AND TONGS. - -A delicate test of balancing may be attempted with the shovel and tongs. -The position of the two implements is shown in the illustration Fig. 20. -The extremity of one arm of the tongs is rested against the inside of -the shovel, and the other extremity is placed in the angle formed by the -junction of the shovel with the handle. By delicate poising the two may -be induced to remain in equilibrium in the position illustrated. A -formation which permits of the tongs being engaged with the shovel after -the manner shown is an important factor. - -[Illustration] - - -21.--A TOWER OF GLASS. - -[Illustration] - -An effective combination is shown in Fig. 21. A carafe, partly filled -with water to give stability, forms the basis of the structure. Upon -this a trio of wine-glasses, lying horizontally, are arranged, and so -held while the bottle, half filled with water, is placed in position -above them. A little careful adjustment will secure an accurate -reproduction of the experiment as illustrated. - - -22.--ANOTHER ARRANGEMENT. - -[Illustration] - -A similar structure, formed with seven glasses and a carafe, is shown in -Fig. 22, which is self-explanatory. - - -23.--THE REVOLVING COIN. - -[Illustration] - -A simple experiment for impromptu performance at the table can be made -with a couple of pins and a coin. The accomplishment consists of picking -up the coin by two opposite edges between the points of the two pins, as -in Fig. 23, in which position it may, with steady hands, safely be held. -By blowing smartly upon one edge of the coin it may be made to rapidly -revolve between two points. The feat has the appearance of an exhibition -of considerable skill, but, as a trial will show, it is in no way -difficult of execution. The selection of a milled-edged coin will -facilitate the matter. - - -24.--AN EXTEMPORIZED TRIPOD. - -[Illustration] - -With three forks, a serviette ring, and a plate, one may improvise a -stand for a soup tureen or water carafe. The forks are merely passed -through the ring and spread into the form of a tripod, the handles -resting upon the table. A plate placed upon the prongs of the forks locks -the whole and provides the necessary rest for the article to be -supported. The fruit dish in the illustration happens to be of just the -right size to rest in the support formed by the extremities of the -forks, the plate being in this case unnecessary. - - -25.--KEYS TO EMINENCE. - -[Illustration] - -In our last example we have a succession of keys built up by -interlocking the wards and bows one within the other, upon the summit of -which may, by special care, be balanced a bottle or similar object. -Where the bottle is added to the pile, it takes the place of the -uppermost key shown in our illustration, and rests upon one taking a -more gentle incline, as in the case of the one immediately below. This -rather ambitious structure forms a fitting climax to our series, and may -be left to the ingenuity of the reader, whose accumulated experience -should by this time be good equipment for the negotiation of the -difficulties to be surmounted. - - - - -_Miss Cairn's Cough-Drops._ - -BY WINIFRED GRAHAM. - - -I. - -Little Hal Court knew nothing of towns; he had been brought up in the -solitude and beauty of Northern Ireland. The country had given to this -small boy something of its own peculiar charm, a wildness wedded -mysteriously to peace. He could be so still and thoughtful, or so full -of life and movement, he might have borrowed his child's personality -from the waves of the great blue sea. - -Nature made a bold nurse--a teacher who whispered to Hal of things -intense, of stories wonderful, bringing him the funds of her vast -wisdom, the fairy tales of a country-side teeming with romance. - -"I live with my grandmother," he told his new governess, "because I have -a different kind of mamma to other boys. She isn't the ordinary sort -that stays at home; she--she's a celebrity!" He paused before alighting -upon the correct word, bringing it out with so grave an air that Miss -Ainsworth could hardly repress a smile. - -[Illustration: "I HAVE A DIFFERENT KIND OF MAMMA TO OTHER BOYS."] - -"Yes," he continued, hugging his knee and gazing through the window at -the turbid waves of the Lough, a lovely inland sea, sending its green -waters brimming to the verge of Castle Stewart's old garden. "She sings, -you know! She sings--well, just like an angel, people say; but the -angels don't have to travel about and leave their little boys at home. -Mother makes heaps of money when she sings a song. They send for her -right across the world, and she travels like a Princess; the people -crowd to see her get into the train. It's always that way if you can -sing. Don't you wish you had a voice like an angel, Miss Ainsworth?" - -"Yes, indeed." - -A sudden, almost painful, longing rang in the reply, as the dazzling -picture of a world-famed artiste was conjured up by the simple -description of a child. - -"I expect," added Miss Ainsworth, "you miss your mother?" - -"Why, of course. I wear this picture of her round my neck, and I love -her so much I don't mind when other boys call it girlish; one doesn't -mind being girlish for her!" - -A throb as of martyrdom crept into the child's voice--an almost -passionate hunger for the mother-love denied him. - -"She said," he continued, "she would be back for the New Year. She can't -get here in time for Christmas, because the boat from Australia won't -bring her fast enough, but she promised to come for certain on New -Year's Eve. I am to write to her in London. I always begin my letters -now, 'Don't forget about the New Year,' because she has so much to -remember. Then she answers back, 'Dear little boy, I'm safe for the New -Year,' or something of that kind. The winter seems very long here, and -one rather wants a mother. In the summer I don't mind her being away so -much." - -His wistful eyes saw in fancy the smiling summer-time, which sped on -lightning wings. For him the warm days spelt gladness, giving beautiful -little bays for playgrounds and creeks with wooded shores, while winter -presented unlighted rocks and shoals lashed by one of the strongest -tides in the kingdom. He had grown to love and reverence the castles of -old Kings which faced each other across the tide, and to know intimately -those wonderful islands which dotted the sea. But to Miss Ainsworth, -freshly arrived from a busy city, Castle Stewart in mid-winter held -something of terror with its watery wastes, guarding the little village -of Slaneyford. - -She liked hearing her small charge talk of his mother: it brought a -human note into all the dreariness and desolation of this storm-swept -country. Since her arrival she had been forced to associate Slaneyford -with a driving whirlwind of ceaseless rain. - -"We sha'n't mind the weather when mother comes," said Hal, cheerfully. -"Everything is different then; she's so jolly, you know. She will bring -me lots of toys in her box, but I don't want them when I've got her to -play with, and her cheek is so much softer to kiss than grandmamma's." - -Miss Ainsworth noticed that the thought of his mother's coming -predominated Hal's mind. Everything reminded him of some past action or -saying of hers--what she liked or disliked. When he became silent and -dreamy, his watchful companion knew well that the child-soul wandered to -a mother's knee, through the bright mazes of imagination. - -[Illustration: "A SURPRISE FOR THE FAIR LADY OF SONG."] - -In restless moments his energies ever centred in arranging some surprise -for the fair lady of song--shells he had collected for her in the summer -were to be hidden under her pillow, and long dried ribbons of white -seaweed found their way to the guest-chamber prepared for Mrs. Court. - -Miss Ainsworth herself caught his feverish excitement--the coming of the -famous singer held the charm of novelty. - -As yet she had met none of the celebrated people of the world, but -founded her social creed upon the daily lives of the middle classes. - -Even little Hal, with the strain of his mother's genius running in his -blood, came as a revelation of something peculiar and mystifying. - -"I sha'n't notice Christmas at all," he told Miss Ainsworth, as the -festive season drew near; "I shall just wait for mother and the New Year -and open all my presents then. She will like to be the first to see -them." So the Yuletide drifted by uneventfully, save for a thrill of -expectation heralding the arrival of a beloved traveller--that -child-like counting of days and hours in which the oldest may share, -when the heart pines and the spirit yearns for the touch of an absent -hand. - -The days were drawing near to New Year's Eve when Mrs. Court wrote -announcing her safe arrival in London. Hal's grandmother read the letter -aloud, and Miss Ainsworth watched the rapt expression on his face with a -strange intuition of coming sorrow, a fear lest disappointment, -black-winged and ugly, should mar the seraphic beauty of the child's -features. The little mouth, slightly inclined by Nature to droop, smiled -softly as the older woman read, and a flush crept over the boy's cheek, -while his whole attitude denoted breathless excitement. So keen was the -tension that, as the letter closed, Miss Ainsworth felt she could hardly -bear the concluding words:-- - -"It is just possible, tell Hal, that, after all, I may not get to -Slaneyford for the New Year. Your account of the weather is not -encouraging, and, dearly as I long to be with you, I am bound to be -cautious and not run any risks. I have a slight cold in my throat, and -the thought of the floods round Castle Stewart holds terrors, with their -suggestion of dampness. My doctor advises me to give up all thought of -visiting Ireland while these stormy days of deluge last. Ask my sweet -boy to write to me." - -Grandmamma laid the letter down with quite a matter-of-fact air, -remarking, "Cristina was very wise!" - -Miss Ainsworth took a sidelong glance at Hal. He had not moved, but his -lip trembled and he stared very hard at the floor. - -"I shall be writing to-day," said grandmamma, "so you had better put in -a line, Hal, and she will get it in London to-morrow morning." - -Hal nodded. His voice sounded odd and strangled as he replied:-- - -"Please, I would rather send my letter quite alone in an envelope by -itself." - -"Very well." - -The boy walked slowly to the door. The pathetic droop of his shoulders -spoke more eloquently than words, telling of a spirit crushed by hope -deferred, of a little heart breaking under a childish tunic of blue -serge. - -"The day after to-morrow will be New Year's Eve," he thought; "and -she--she is afraid of the weather, because of her voice!" - -Perhaps he had always been unconsciously jealous of that wonderful gift -which took her away from him, though to the child's pure nature all -hurtful emotions came as aliens, tarrying but for a moment on forbidden -ground. - -He crept to the far corner of the school-room, and, hiding the tiresome -tears that made writing difficult, scribbled hastily in his new -drawing-book. - -"She shall have the first sheet as a letter," he said, tearing it out, -and re-reading the words, clearly written in a bold, childish hand. -"Perhaps she will come after all, when she gets this." - -Miss Ainsworth saw with relief Hal looked happier as the post-boy -trudged with a bag of correspondence down the soaking drive. - -The following morning there was a certain watchfulness about Hal. He -could settle down to nothing, and appeared to be constantly listening; -every bell sent him running to the hall door. - -At last his energy met with reward, for he was the first to bring in a -telegram addressed to his grandmother. He waited by her knee with -glistening eyes, his pulses throbbing painfully as she read the flimsy -paper: "Shall be with you to-morrow; crossing to-night.--Cristina." - -It seemed to the boy that his heart stopped beating and would never go -on again as he heard the wonderful intelligence. He struggled for breath -as he gasped out the good news to Miss Ainsworth, who had just appeared -to take him for a walk. - -"She will be here for New Year's Eve! She rests in Dublin, you know, and -gets to us late in the afternoon," he cried, his face like a sunbeam. -"She changed her mind when she got our letters; I expect she saw we -wanted her very, very badly." - -The hours flew quickly with so much gladness in store, and Hal was quite -ready to go to bed early, that to-morrow might come the -sooner--to-morrow, the day of days, long waited for, through weary -months of watching. Miss Ainsworth came to the boy's bedside fearing he -would never sleep--with his brain in such a whirl of feverish -expectation. - -She found him open-eyed and flushed. Immediately he began speaking of -his mother. - -"To-morrow night she will come in, shading the candle with her hand," he -said. "She will wear a lovely dress she calls a tea-gown, all soft and -lacey, and she doesn't mind how much I crumple it." He smiled at the -thought and hugged his pillows. - -"I wonder why she suddenly changed her mind?" murmured Miss Ainsworth. -Hal sat bolt upright, his eyes very alert. - -"It was all through my letter," he answered, triumphantly. - -[Illustration: "'IT WAS ALL THROUGH MY LETTER,' HE ANSWERED."] - -"What did you say?" Miss Ainsworth felt very curious as she put the -question; she had never before dealt with a child of uncommon character. - -"I begged her to come," he replied, his tone vibrating with the energy -of a youthful passion. "I said I would like her to lose her voice on the -way and never find it again; then she would stay with me always, like -other mothers, who live at home with their children. I put: 'Never mind -about the old voice, dearest; it's always a bother, taking you away,' -and lots of things like that, just to show her how much I cared. Oh! and -I dropped some tears on the letter, so it all went crinkly." - -An expression of intense longing lit his face as he paused, clutching -Miss Ainsworth's sleeve. "Do you think she will lose her voice on the -journey?" he gasped, hopefully. "It would be lovely if she did!" - -Miss Ainsworth listened horrified; righteous indignation surged within -her well-meaning breast as she pictured the mother, torn by natural -affection, driven to risk her glorious gift of song for the whim of an -exacting child. - -"Oh!" cried Miss Ainsworth, shaking him off angrily, "I had no idea you -were such a wicked little boy. I thought you really loved your mother, -and now I see you don't at all; you are thoroughly selfish and horrid. -Your letter must have hurt her very deeply. Of course, she values her -voice above everything. God gave it to her as a wonderful inheritance, a -divine talent, and you--you _hope_ she will lose it, never to find it -again! I don't want to talk to you any more, but if ill befalls your -mother it will be a judgment on you! Naturally she ought not to travel -against the advice of her doctor, but she is sacrificing her health for -the sake of granting an unkind and inconsiderate request!" - -With these scathing words of rebuke Miss Ainsworth snatched up the -candle and strode from the room, shutting the door firmly behind her -without saying "good-night." - -Hal remained very still. All in a moment the room had become peopled -with dark fancies and ugly forms. Dread stole like a human presence to -the disconsolate little soul. Hal shivered and, shrinking down, hid his -head in the sheets. The lecture, with its awful truths, returned like a -heavy blow, causing physical pain to the sensitive temperament of the -highly-strung boy. He had meant no harm by the ignorant words, whose -child-like pathos touched the deepest chord in the heart of the famous -singer. Not for the world would she have had one syllable of Hal's -letter altered by the tutoring hand of a shocked Miss Ainsworth, while -tears and smiles together answered the appeal of that quaint, unstudied -expression of the boy's mind. - -But Hal knew nothing of this as the darkness gathered round him. He -heard only the condemning phrases: "You are thoroughly selfish and -horrid! I thought you really loved your mother! If ill befalls her it -will be a judgment upon you!" He set his lips and pressed his knuckles -firmly to his eyes. What was this dreadful thing he had done--all -unconsciously--to the mother for whom he would willingly have given his -life? She was on the sea now, against her doctor's advice, and the wind -was beating on his window-pane and moaning round the house. He felt he -could hardly bear the thought, and the sound of the pitiless rain -tortured him. - -Of course, Miss Ainsworth was right; he had been inconsiderate and -unkind. If mother lost her voice God would be very angry, because Miss -Ainsworth said it was a "divine talent." Whatever happened, the precious -voice must be preserved, even if it took the one he loved away from him -to the end of the chapter. As he mused a sudden thought came, bringing -with it one bright ray of hope through the terrifying gloom. - -Away across the mile-wide tideway, in the small town of Ferryport, a -certain Miss Cairn, an old, wrinkled spinster, kept a wondrous -sweet-shop, renowned for its good wares. When last Hal paid her a visit -one calm autumn day she had shown him a large glass jar of cough-drops, -bidding him remember when the winter came that for loss of voice, or -sore throat, she knew no equal in all the wide world. Miss Cairn -confided to him she had once assisted in a chemist's shop, and knew the -dark secrets of medicine. These drops were her own manufacture, and held -the magic of deep knowledge acquired in the past. - -Her words came back now with a force and power which made the great -flood surging between him and the desired goal as nothing compared with -the thought of saving mother's voice! The very difficulties in the way -made the staunch little heart resolve to let no human power stay him -from the task ahead. - -What matter that the ferry could not traverse the foaming waters? Old -Micky (known as Mad Micky, for risking his life in the wildest weather) -crossed every morning in his worn boat with the regularity of a postman! - -The inhabitants on either side were glad enough to make use of his -fearless enterprise, for to be cut off from communication often proved -highly inconvenient. So they paid him to carry their wares, and traded -with each other, while they shrugged their shoulders at the danger -entailed. - -"Poor craythur!" they would say; "shure, and he's bound to go under some -day, but there's none at home to mourn him, and he's set his mind on a -watery grave!" - -To Hal that night Mad Micky appeared as the one bright spot on the dark -horizon of his childish sorrow. - -If only he had Miss Cairn's cough-drops safely at Castle Stewart when -Mrs. Court arrived, all anxiety could be at an end. The lost voice must -needs return under the influence of such wonderful round, coloured -lozenges, with purple or pink stripes for choice. He fancied mother -would like the pink stripes best, because they were prettier. - -Lulled by the glad notion of repairing his sinful past, little Hal let -his heavy, tear-stained eyes close, and dreamt of a beauteous lady in a -tea-gown, of Mad Micky, and sweets in a huge glass jar away across the -tide. - - -II. - -When Hal, after many difficulties, escaped the watchful eyes of Miss -Ainsworth, and running through torrents of rain hid himself under a -drenched tarpaulin at the bottom of Micky's boat, the supreme moment of -his life had been reached. - -He suspected that on such a morning of storm even Mad Micky might -possibly refuse to pilot human cargo across the rough water, for New -Year's Eve outvied the previous days of tempest. - -The boat, moored at the Castle Stewart end of Slaneyford Lough, lay in -sight of the roaring sea, whose billows broke upon innumerable creeks -made alive by the hurrying presence of foam-crested waves. - -Hal had collected all the money he possessed in his small -pockets--silver for Miss Cairn, and three big pennies for Mad Micky when -the moment should arrive to reveal his hidden presence. - -No wonder the boy's heart beat furiously, for of all his life's -adventures this appeared the most thrilling and terrifying. - -It was one thing to play at shipwrecked mariners and to storm castles -in which no ogres dwelt--it proved a different matter to lie calmly -concealed while Micky, who "had set his mind on a watery grave," let his -frail barque tear across the Lough under a single head-sail. - -The boy knew enough of the treacherous current and the strength of the -tide to realize fully the perils of his passage. - -Peeping from under his covering he could see the reckless face of his -unconscious guide, fully aware that no man valuing his safety would sail -as Mad Micky sailed that morning. - -[Illustration: "HE COULD SEE THE RECKLESS FACE OF HIS UNCONSCIOUS -GUIDE."] - -The child's sensitive nature would have been tortured by fears but for -the encouraging influence of a great unselfish love. - -"It's for mother's sake!" he said, hiding his eyes from the swift, deep -body of water, whipped into fury by the wind as it viciously lashed the -sail. - -"It's for mother's sake!" he repeated, when the personal discomfort of -his position warned him there can be few places wetter or more cheerless -than a small boat unprotected from the elements when the rain descends -in really gross solidity. - - * * * * * - -Mrs. Court felt none the worse for her journey as she drove to Castle -Stewart late that afternoon. - -She was really rather amused at having flung caution to the winds, and -was by no means depressed at landing in a hurricane of squall and dirt -on the dear, familiar Irish shore. - -Her first thought was for Hal as she crossed the threshold of her old -home, and a sudden keen misgiving pierced her like a knife when faces of -frightened distress greeted her on the doorstep. - -"Where is Hal?" - -The words broke sharply; the bright, magnificent eyes flashed a glance -of terror from right to left. - -"We don't know!" The answer came unsteadily from faltering lips. "He -disappeared this morning; he was last seen by one of the gardeners, -running towards the Lough, slipping over the slimy stones and rocks. The -man wondered we allowed him out in the wet to play on the weedy -boulders, but the foolish fellow said nothing till it was too late. When -he heard Hal was missing he spoke, but not till then. The shore has been -searched, but----" - -Mrs. Court stayed to hear no more. The blank, hopeless faces of the -speakers told the rest. - -Miss Ainsworth was weeping hysterically, and grandmamma's features grew -stone-like in their set misery. - -All the new-comer realized was that Hal--her Hal--had met with some -disaster. Only the gravest accident would keep him away at such a -moment. Her mind leapt to the worst fears. Like one possessed she rushed -alone down the long drive, hardly knowing what she did, till her feet -reached the very brink of the flowing tide. - -Surely the cry of her heart must call, even above the storm, to little -Hal, the tender, clinging child, accustomed to think always of her -pleasure during the happy days they spent at home together. - -[Illustration: "RUNNING AT FULL SPEED, CAME A SMALL BREATHLESS FIGURE."] - -As if in answer to her soul's appeal, along the bank of the Lough's -dark, swollen water, running at full speed, came a small breathless -figure, drenched to the skin, holding aloft a tiny paper packet, which -he waved victoriously. - -"Dearest, it was for you!" he cried. "And, oh! I'm so sorry to be late, -but Micky nearly got shipwrecked this time, the wind was so high, and -his mast broke. I was frightened you'd lose your voice, so I went to -Ferryport to buy Miss Cairn's cough-drops. They are splendid, dearest; -try one and see!" - -Already he had ferreted into the bag, and was holding between a salted -thumb and finger a brilliant specimen of Miss Cairn's triumph in -pink-striped lozenges. - -As Mrs. Court heard the eager tidings: "Dearest, it was for you!" a rush -of tears to her eyes and a sudden choking in her throat made Hal -anxious. - -"You--you _have_ caught a cold!" he exclaimed, with conviction, forcing -the sugared cough-drop into her protesting hands. - -"No, darling boy--no," she stammered, mastering her emotion with an -effort; "the New Year gladness choked me for a moment, that's all!" - - - - -_Solutions to the Puzzles in the December Number._ - - -TRACKING THE FUGITIVES. - -The solution of this amusing problem is as follows: The fugitive started -from station No. 1 on foot, carrying the child; at station No. 2 he -mounted a bicycle and, still carrying the child, rode to No. 3; there he -placed the child in a wheelbarrow; as indicated by the marks of the legs -of the wheelbarrow, he stopped before reaching No. 4 and put down the -child, who walked by his side to the station; thence he continued his -journey on a tricycle, which also carried the child; at No. 5 he changed -his tricycle for a monocycle (that is, a single-wheeled cycle, such as -is used by trick-riders), but the child which he was carrying caused him -to lose his balance and he fell; he then took the child in his arms and -carried it to No. 6; thence he started holding the child by the hand, -but farther on he again took it in his arms and so completed the journey -at No. 7. - - -THE QUARRELSOME BROTHERS. - -[Illustration] - -The solution of this problem will be found in the above sketch. Of -course, the problem may be solved by drawing the lines the reverse way. - - -TO RECONSTRUCT THE CLOWN. - -[Illustration] - -The reader will see, by inspection of the accompanying drawings, that -the only way to solve this problem is by making a cut along the dotted -line "A" before making that along the dotted line "B." This is the only -possible method of obtaining four pieces with two cuts of the scissors. -This being done, the method of rejoining the pieces so as to form the -clown, as shown in the smaller diagram, will easily be followed, the -pieces being numbered in order to show more readily where they fall. - - -A STRANGE SIGNATURE. - -[Illustration] - -It will be seen that the signature is that of the celebrated French -General, Marshal Ney. - - -TO MAKE A HEN OUT OF AN APPLE. - -[Illustration] - -The white lines on the diagram given above of the apple will show in -what manner the piece is to be cut out of it, which, being placed in its -proper position, forms the neck and head of the hen. The stem being cut -off and divided into two parts, as shown by the dotted lines, will give -the legs, which, when attached to the body, complete the figure. - - -TO TURN THIS MAN INTO ANOTHER. - -[Illustration] - -This problem is one of the most difficult of our collection. The dotted -lines in the first of the accompanying three illustrations show how the -original sketch has to be divided, while the other two show the manner -in which the pieces require to be put together in order to form the new -figure. - -[Illustration] - - -A CURIOUS MENAGERIE. - -Unlike the preceding one, this problem is quite easy, and no doubt many -hundreds of our readers will have found the correct solution. In order -to obtain this it is only necessary to take the last triangle and paste -upon its three sides the three other triangles, so as to complete the -cat, the dog, and the cock, at the same time producing one large -triangle composed of four small ones. The three summits of these -triangles are then brought together, thus forming a pyramid. The -menagerie, with the swan, the eagle, and the rabbit complete, will then -be found to have been reconstructed. - - -A STRANGE GEOMETRICAL FIGURE. - -[Illustration] - -The following design gives the solution of this curious problem. The -dotted lines show in which way the figure is to be cut, and the numbers -indicate the new position of the pieces. - - -THE FACETIOUS SCHOOLBOY. - -[Illustration] - -Our readers will see by a glance at the accompanying drawing what -features of the original landscape it was necessary to preserve in order -to solve the problem, and which were produced by the schoolboy's pencil -and must accordingly be removed. The drawing represents a light-house -built on the edge of a cliff. - - -ROUND THE CAPSTAN. - -[Illustration] - -This drawing gives the solution of the problem, showing to what bodies -the respective heads and legs should be attached. - - -THE SIGNS OF THE ZODIAC. - -[Illustration] - -The two signs of the Zodiac which it is necessary to choose, and the -method of placing them among the stars and dots, are here shown. - - -TO COMPLETE THE BIRDS. - -[Illustration] - -Cut the paper into an exact square just containing the birds and fold it -in the well-known manner of making a "paper bird," when the two birds -will appear, one as shown, and the other on the reverse. - - -TO MAKE A FLOWER OUT OF FOUR FREAKS. - -[Illustration] - -The method of making a flower out of the four grotesque heads which were -represented in the diagram is one of the simplest of the series. All -that is required is to cut out the four heads, remove the white part, -and place them one upon the other. The space left empty then forms the -flower, as will be easily understood by inspecting the two designs here -given. Each figure is represented by a dotted line. - - -THE SERPENT AND THE FILE. - -Roll the strip of paper in a spiral, and the pieces of the serpent will -be joined, while the file will disappear. - - -A BLOT OF INK. - -[Illustration] - -Four black discs will be obtained by making six folds the long way of -the design and two across it, as shown in the two accompanying drawings. - - -WHAT ANIMAL IS THIS? - -[Illustration] - -The animal is an elephant, as the reader can see for himself, and the -method of forming him will also be readily apparent without further -explanation. - - -THE CASTLE IN THE FOREST. - -[Illustration] - -The outline shows the track which is to be followed by the traveller in -order to penetrate the forest and reach the castle in the centre. - - -A MOTOR-CAR PROBLEM. - -The following is the series of eighteen movements which are required to -transfer motor-cars from one shed into the other:-- - - 1. Move car No. 5 into the refuge. - - 2. Move No. 2 into the place of No. 5. - - 3. Move No. 3 into the space between the refuge and the lower - shed. - - 4. Move No. 5 into the place of No. 3. - - 5. Move No. 3 into the place of No. 2. - - 6. Move No. 2 into the refuge. - - 7. Move No. 6 into the space between the refuge and the upper - shed. - - 8. Move No. 2 into the place of No. 6. - - 9. Move No. 6 into the refuge. - - 10. Move No. 3 into the lower shed in the place of No. 5. - - 11. Move No. 1 into the space between the refuge and the lower - shed. - - 12. Move No. 6 into the upper shed in the place of No. 1. - - 13. Move No. 1 in the place of No. 2 in the upper shed. - - 14. Move No. 3 into the space between the refuge and the upper - shed. - - 15. Move No. 4 into the refuge. - - 16. Move No. 3 into the place of No. 4 in the lower shed. - - 17. Move No. 1 into the lower shed. - - 18. Move No. 4 into the upper shed. - - -THE RIFLE RANGE. - -The point is shown in the diagram below:-- - -[Illustration] - - - - -[Illustration: THE PHOENIX AND THE CARPET.] - -BY E. NESBIT. - -Copyright, 1904, by George Newnes, Limited. - - -VII.--CATS AND RATS. - -When you hear that the four children found themselves at Waterloo -Station quite un-taken-care-of, and with no one to meet them, it may -make you think that their parents were neither kind nor careful. But if -you think this you will be wrong. The fact is, mother arranged with Aunt -Emma that she was to meet the children at Waterloo when they went back -from their Christmas holiday at Lyndhurst. The train was fixed, but not -the day. Then mother wrote to Aunt Emma, giving her careful instructions -about the day and the hour, and about luggage and cabs and things, and -gave the letter to Robert to post. But the hounds happened to meet near -Rufus's Stone that morning, and, what is more, on the way to the meet -they met Robert, and Robert met them, and instantly forgot all about -posting Aunt Emma's letter, and never thought of it again until he and -the others had wandered three times up and down the platform at -Waterloo--which makes twenty-four trips in all--and had bumped up -against old gentlemen, and stared in the faces of ladies, and been -shoved by people in a hurry, and "by-your-leaved" by porters with -trucks, and were quite sure that Aunt Emma was not there. - -Then suddenly the true truth of what he had forgotten to do came home to -Robert, and he said "Oh, crikey!" and stood still with his mouth open, -and let a porter with a Gladstone bag in each hand and a bundle of -umbrellas under one arm blunder heavily into him, and never so much as -said "Where are you shoving to now?" or "Look out where you're going, -can't you?" The heavier bag smote him at the knee, and he staggered, but -he said nothing. When the others understood what was the matter I think -they told Robert what they thought of him. - -"We must take the train to Croydon," said Anthea, "and find Aunt Emma." - -"Yes," said Cyril, "and precious pleased those Jevonses would be to see -us and our traps." - -Aunt Emma, indeed, was staying with some Jevonses--very prim ladies. -They were middle-aged and wore very smart blouses, and they were fond of -_matinées_ and shopping, and they did not care about children. - -"I know mother would be pleased to see us if we went back," said Jane. - -"Yes, she would; but she'd think it was not right to show she was -pleased, because it's Bob's fault we're not met. Don't I know the sort -of thing?" said Cyril. "Besides, we've no tin, except my tip grandfather -gave me, and I'm not going to blue that because Robert's gone and made -an ass of himself. No; we've enough among us for a growler, but not -enough for tickets to the New Forest. We must just go home. They won't -be so savage when they find we've really got home all right. You know -auntie was only going to take us home in a cab." - -"I believe we ought to go to Croydon," Anthea insisted. - -"Aunt Emma would be out, to a dead cert," said Robert. "Those Jevonses -go to the theatre every afternoon, I believe. Besides, there's the -Phoenix at home, _and_ the carpet. I votes we call a four-wheeled -cabman." - -A four-wheeled cabman was called--his cab was one of the old-fashioned -kind, with straw in the bottom--and he was asked by Anthea to drive them -very carefully to their address. This he did, and the price he asked for -doing so was exactly the value of the gold coin grandpapa had given -Cyril for Christmas. This cast a gloom--but Cyril would never have -stooped to argue about a cab-fare, for fear the cabman should think he -was not accustomed to take cabs whenever he wanted them. For a reason -that was something like this he told the cabman to put the luggage on -the steps, and waited till the wheels of the growler had grittily -retired before he rang the bell. "You see," he said, with his hand on -the handle, "we don't want cook and Eliza asking us before _him_ how it -is we've come home alone--as if we were babies." - -[Illustration: "HE WAS ASKED BY ANTHEA TO DRIVE THEM VERY CAREFULLY."] - -Here he rang the bell; and the moment its answering clang was heard -everyone felt that it would be some time before that bell was answered. -The sound of a bell is quite different, somehow, when there is anyone -inside the house who hears it. I can't tell you why that is--but so it -is. - -"I expect they're changing their dresses," said Jane. - -"Too late," said Anthea; "it must be past five. I expect Eliza's gone to -post a letter and cook's gone to see the time." - -Cyril rang again. And the bell did its best to inform the listening -children that there was really no one human in the house. They rang -again, and listened intently. The hearts of all sank low. It is a -terrible thing to be locked out of your own house on a dark, muggy, -January evening. - -"There is no gas on anywhere," said Jane, in a broken voice. - -"I expect they've left the gas on once too often, and the draught blew -it out, and they're suffocated in their beds. Father always said they -would some day," said Robert, cheerfully. - -"Let's go and fetch a policeman," said Anthea, trembling. - -"And be taken up for trying to be burglars--no, thank you," said Cyril. -"I heard father read out of the paper about a young man who got into his -own mother's house, and they got him made a burglar only the other day." - -"I only hope the gas hasn't hurt the Phoenix," said Anthea. "It -_said_ it wanted to stay in the bathroom cupboard, and I thought it -would be all right because the servants _never_ clean that out. But if -it's gone and got out and been choked by gas--and, besides, directly we -open the door we shall be choked too. I _knew_ we ought to have gone to -Aunt Emma at Croydon. Oh, Squirrel, I wish we had. Let's go _now_." - -"Shut up," said her brother, briefly. "There's someone rattling the -latch inside." - -Everyone listened with all its ears, and everyone stood back as far from -the door as the steps would allow. - -The latch rattled and clicked. Then the flap of the letter-box lifted -itself--everyone saw it by the flickering light of the gas-lamp that -shone through the leafless lime tree by the gate--a golden eye seemed to -wink at them through the letter-box, and a cautious beak whispered: - -"Are you alone?" - -"It's the Phoenix," said everyone, in a voice so joyous and so full of -relief as to be a sort of whispered shout. - -"Hush!" said the voice from the letter-box slit. "Your slaves have gone -a-merry-making. The latch of this portal is too stiff for my delicate -beak. But at the side--the little window above the shelf whereon your -bread lies--it is not fastened." - -"Right O!" said Cyril. - -And Anthea added: "I wish you'd meet us there, dear Phoenix." - -[Illustration: "HE DIVED INTO THE PANTRY HEAD-FIRST."] - -The children crept round to the pantry window. It is at the side of the -house, and there is a green gate labelled "Tradesmen's Entrance," which -is always kept bolted. But if you get one foot on the fence between you -and next door, and one on the handle of the gate, you are over before -you know where you are. This, at least, was the experience of Cyril and -Robert, and even, if the truth must be told, of Anthea and Jane. So in -almost no time all four were in the narrow gravelled passage that runs -between that house and the next. - -Then Robert made a back, and Cyril hoisted himself up and got his -knicker-bockered knee on the concrete window-sill. He dived into the -pantry head-first, as one dives into water, and his legs waved in the -air as he went, just as your legs do when you are first beginning -to learn to dive. The soles of his boots--squarish, muddy -patches--disappeared. - -"Give us a leg-up," said Robert to his sisters. - -"No, you don't," said Jane, firmly. "I'm not going to be left outside -here with just Anthea, and have something creep up behind us out of the -dark. Squirrel can go and open the back door." - -A light had sprung awake in the pantry. Cyril always said the Phoenix -turned the gas on with its beak and lighted it with a waft of its wing, -but he was excited at the time and perhaps he really did it himself with -matches, and then forgot all about it. He let the others in by the back -door. And when it had been bolted again and the luggage had been got off -the doorstep the children went all over the house and lighted every -single gas-jet they could find. For they couldn't help feeling that this -was just the dark, dreary winter's evening when an armed burglar might -easily be expected to appear at any moment. There is nothing like light -when you are afraid of burglars, or of anything else, for that matter. - -And when all the gas-jets were lighted it was quite clear that the -Phoenix had made no mistake, and that Eliza and cook were really out, -and that there was no one in the house except the four children, and the -Phoenix and the carpet, and the black-beetles who lived in the -cupboards on each side of the nursery fireplace. These last were very -pleased that the children had come home again, especially when Anthea -had lighted the nursery fire. But, as usual, the children treated the -loving little black-beetles with coldness and disdain. - -While Anthea was delighting the poor little black-beetles with the -cheerful blaze, Jane had set the table for--I was going to say tea, but -the meal of which I am speaking was not exactly tea. Let us call it a -tea-ish meal. There was tea, certainly, for Anthea's fire blazed and -crackled so kindly that it really seemed to be affectionately inviting -the kettle to come and sit upon its lap. So the kettle was brought and -tea made. But no milk could be found, so everyone had six lumps of sugar -to each cup instead. The things to eat, on the other hand, were nicer -than usual. The boys looked about very carefully, and found in the -pantry some cold tongue, bread, butter, cheese, and part of a cold -pudding--very much nicer than cook ever made when they were at home. And -in the kitchen cupboard were half a Christmassy cake, a pot of -strawberry jam, and about a pound of mixed candied fruit with soft, -crumbly slabs of delicious sugar in each cup of lemon, orange, or -citron. - -It was indeed, as Jane said, "a banquet fit for an Arabian knight." - -The Phoenix perched on Robert's chair, and listened kindly and -politely to all they had to tell it about their visit to Lyndhurst, and -underneath the table, by just stretching a toe down rather far, the -faithful carpet could be felt by all, even by Jane, whose legs were very -short. - -"Your slaves will not return to-night," said the Phoenix. "They sleep -under the roof of the cook's step-mother's aunt, who is, I gather, -hostess to a large party to-night in honour of her husband's cousin's -sister-in-law's mother's ninetieth birthday." - -"I don't think they ought to have gone without leave," said Anthea, -"however many relations they have, but I suppose we ought to wash up." - -"It's not our business about the leave," said Cyril, firmly; "but I -simply won't wash up for them. We got it, and we'll clear it away--and -then we'll go somewhere on the carpet. It's not often we get a chance of -being out all night. We can go right away to the other side of the -Equator, to the tropical climes, and see the sun rise over the great -Pacific Ocean." - -"Right you are," said Robert. "I always did want to see the Southern -Cross and the stars as big as gas-lamps." - -"_Don't_ go," said Anthea, very earnestly, "because I _couldn't_. I'm -_sure_ mother wouldn't like us to leave the house, and I should hate to -be left here alone." - -"I'd stay with you," said Jane, loyally. - -"I know you would," said Anthea, gratefully; "but even with you I'd much -rather not." - -"Well," said Cyril, trying to be kind and amiable, "I don't want you to -do anything you think's wrong, _but_----" - -He was silent. This silence said many things. - -"I don't see----" Robert was beginning, when Anthea interrupted. - -"I'm quite sure. Sometimes you just think a thing's wrong, and sometimes -you _know_. And this is a _know_ time." - -The Phoenix turned kind golden eyes on her and opened a friendly beak -to say:-- - -"When it is, as you say, a 'know time' there is no more to be said. And -your noble brothers would never leave you." - -"Of course not," said Cyril, rather quickly. And Robert said so, too. - -"I myself," the Phoenix went on, "am willing to help in any way -possible. I will myself go--either by carpet or on the wing--and fetch -you anything you can think of to amuse you during the evening. In order -to waste no time I could go while you wash up. Why," it went on, in a -musing voice, "does one wash up teacups and wash down the stairs?" - -"You couldn't wash stairs up, you know," said Anthea, "unless you began -at the bottom and went up feet first as you washed. I wish cook would -try that way for a change." - -"I don't," said Cyril, briefly. "I should hate the look of her -elastic-side boots sticking up." - -"This is mere trifling," said the Phoenix. "Come, decide what I shall -fetch for you. I can get you anything you like." - -But, of course, they couldn't decide. Many things were suggested: a -rocking-horse, jewelled chessmen, an elephant, a bicycle, a motor-car, -books with pictures, musical instruments, and many other things. But a -musical instrument is agreeable only to the player, unless he has -learned to play it really well; books are not sociable, bicycles cannot -be ridden without going out of doors, and the same is true of motor-cars -and elephants. Only two people can play chess at once with one set of -chessmen (and anyway it's very much too much like lessons for a game), -and only one can ride on a rocking-horse. Suddenly in the midst of the -discussion the Phoenix spread its wings and fluttered to the floor, -and from there it spoke. - -[Illustration: "THE CARPET WANTS YOU TO LET IT GO TO ITS OLD HOME."] - -"I gather," it said, "from the carpet that it wants you to let it go to -its old home, where it was born and brought up, and it will return -within the hour laden with a number of the most beautiful and delightful -products of its native land." - -"What _is_ its native land?" - -"I didn't gather. But since you can't agree, and time is passing, and -the tea-things are not washed down--I mean washed up--" - -"I votes we do," said Cyril. "It'll stop all this jaw, any way. And it's -not bad to have surprises. Perhaps it's a Turkey carpet, and it might -bring us Turkish delight." - -"Or a Turkish patrol," said Robert. - -"Or a Turkish bath," said Anthea. - -"Or a Turkish towel," said Jane. - -"Nonsense," Cyril urged; "it said beautiful and delightful, and towels -and baths aren't _that_, however good they may be for you. Let it go. I -suppose it won't give us the slip," he added, pushing back his chair and -standing up. - -"Hush!" said the Phoenix; "how can you? Don't trample on its feelings -just because it's only a carpet." - -"But how can it do it--unless one of us is on it--to do the wishing?" -asked Robert. He spoke with a rising hope that it _might_ be necessary -for one to go--and why not Robert? But the Phoenix quickly threw cold -water on his new-born flame. - -"Why, you just write your wish on a paper and pin it on the carpet." - -So a leaf was torn from Anthea's arithmetic book, and on it Cyril wrote, -in large round-hand, the following:-- - -"We wish you to go to your dear native home, and bring back the most -beautiful and delightful productions of it you can--and not to be gone -long, please. (Signed) - - "CYRIL, ROBERT, ANTHEA, JANE." - -Then the paper was laid on the carpet. - -"Writing down, please," said the Phoenix; "the carpet can't read a -paper whose back is turned to it any more than you can." - -It was pinned fast; and the table and chairs having been moved the -carpet simply and suddenly vanished, rather like a patch of water on a -hearth under a fierce fire. The edges got smaller and smaller, and then -it disappeared from sight. - -"It may take it some time to collect the beautiful and delightful -things," said the Phoenix. "I should wash up--I mean wash down." - -So they did. There was plenty of hot water left in the kettle, and -everyone helped: even the Phoenix, who took up cups by their handles -with its clever claws, and dipped them in the hot water, and then stood -them on the table ready for Anthea to dry them. Everything was nicely -washed up and dried and put in its proper place, and the dish-cloth -washed and hung on the edge of the copper to dry, and the tea-cloth was -hung on the line that goes across the scullery. (If you are a duchess's -child, or a King's, or a person of high social position's child, you -will, perhaps, not know the difference between a dish-cloth and a -tea-cloth, but in that case your nurse has been better instructed than -you, and she will tell you all about it.) And just as eight hands and -one pair of claws were being dried on the roller towel behind the -scullery door there came a strange sound from the other side of the -kitchen wall--the side where the nursery was. It was a very strange -sound indeed--most odd--and unlike any other sounds the children had -ever heard. At least, they had heard sounds as much like it as a toy -engine's whistle is like a steam siren's. - -[Illustration: "EVERYONE HELPED: EVEN THE PHOENIX."] - -"The carpet's come back," said Robert, and the others felt that he was -right. - -"But what has it brought with it?" asked Jane. "It sounds like -Leviathan, that great beast----" - -"It couldn't have been made in India and have brought elephants? Even -baby ones would be rather awful in that room," said Cyril. - -"It's no use sending the carpet to fetch precious things for you if -you're afraid to look at them when they come," said the Phoenix, -sensibly. And Cyril, being the eldest, said "Come on," and turned the -handle. - -The gas had been left full on after tea, and everything in the room -could be plainly seen by the ten eyes at the door. At least, not -everything, for though the carpet was there it was invisible, because it -was completely covered by the hundred and ninety-nine beautiful objects -which it had brought from its birthplace. - -"Cats!" Cyril exclaimed. "I never thought about its being a _Persian_ -carpet." - -Yet it was now plain that this was so, for the beautiful objects which -it had brought back were cats--Persian cats--grey Persian cats, and -there were, as I have said, one hundred and ninety-nine of them, and -they were sitting on the carpet as close as they could get to each -other. But the moment the children entered the room the cats rose and -stretched, and spread and overflowed from the carpet to the floor, and -in an instant the floor was a sea of moving, mewing pussishness, and the -children, with one accord, climbed to the table and gathered up their -legs, and the people next door knocked on the wall; and, indeed, no -wonder, for the mews were Persian and piercing. - -"This is pretty poor sport," said Cyril. "What's the matter with the -bounders?" - -"I imagine that they are hungry," said the Phoenix. "If you were to -feed them----" - -"We haven't anything to feed them with," said Anthea, in despair, and -she stroked the nearest Persian back. "Oh, pussies, do be quiet; we -can't hear ourselves think." She had to shout this entreaty, for the -mews were growing deafening. "And it would take pounds and pounds' worth -of cat's-meat." - -[Illustration: "THE BEAUTIFUL OBJECTS WHICH IT HAD BROUGHT BACK WERE -CATS."] - -"Let's ask the carpet to take them away," said Robert. - -But the girls said "No." - -"They are so soft and pussy," said Jane. - -"And valuable," said Anthea, hastily. "We can sell them for lots and -lots of money." - -"Why not send the carpet to get food for them?" suggested the Phoenix, -and its golden voice became harsh and cracked with the effort it had to -make to be heard above the increasing fierceness of the Persian mews. - -So it was written that the carpet should bring food for one hundred and -ninety-nine Persian cats, and the paper was pinned to the carpet as -before. - -The carpet seemed to gather itself together, and the cats dropped off it -as rain-drops do from your mackintosh when you shake it. And the carpet -disappeared. - -Unless you have had one hundred and ninety-nine well-nourished Persian -cats in one small room, all hungry, and all saying so in unmistakable -mews, you can form but a poor idea of the noise that now deafened the -children and the Phoenix. - -The cats mewed and mewed and mewed, and twisted their Persian forms in -and out and unfolded their Persian tails, and the children and the -Phoenix huddled together by the door. - -The Phoenix, Robert noticed suddenly, was trembling. - -"So many cats," it said, "and they might not know I was the Phoenix. -These accidents happen so quickly. It quite unmans me." - -This was a danger of which the children had not thought. - -"Creep in," cried Robert, opening his jacket. And the Phoenix crept -in--only just in time, for green eyes had glared, pink noses had -sniffed, white whiskers had twitched, and as Robert buttoned his coat he -disappeared to the waist in a wave of eager grey Persian fur. And on the -instant the good carpet slapped itself down on the floor. And it was -covered with rats--three hundred and ninety-eight of them, I -believe--two for each cat. - -"How horrible!" cried Anthea. "Oh, take them away!" - -"Take yourself away," said the Phoenix, "and me." - -"I wish we'd never had a carpet," said Anthea, in tears. - -They hustled and crowded out of the door, and shut it and locked it. -Cyril, with great presence of mind, lit a candle and turned off the gas -at the main. "The rats'll have a better chance in the dark," he said. - -The mewing had ceased. Everyone listened in breathless silence. We all -know that cats eat rats--it is one of the first things we read in our -nice little reading books; but all those cats eating all those rats--it -wouldn't bear thinking of. - -[Illustration: "HE DISAPPEARED TO THE WAIST IN A WAVE OF EAGER GREY -PERSIAN FUR."] - -Suddenly Robert sniffed, in the silence of the dark kitchen where the -only candle was burning all on one side, because of the draught. - -"What a funny scent!" he said. - -And as he spoke a lantern flashed its light through the window of the -kitchen, a face peered in, and a voice said:-- - -"What's all this row about? You let me in." - -It was the voice of the police! - -Robert tip-toed to the window and spoke through the pane that was a -little cracked. - -"What do you mean?" he said. "There's no row. You listen; everything's -as quiet as quiet." - -And indeed it was. - -The strange sweet scent grew stronger, and the Phoenix put out its -beak. - -The policeman hesitated. - -"They're _musk_ rats," said the Phoenix. "I suppose some cats eat -them--but never Persian ones. What a mistake for a well-informed carpet -to make! Oh, what a night we're having!" - -"Do go away," said Robert, nervously, to the policeman. "We're just -going to bed--that's our bedroom candle--there isn't any row. -Everything's as quiet as a mouse." - -A wild chorus of mews drowned his words, and with the mews were mingled -the shrieks of the musk rats. What had happened? Had the cats tasted -them before deciding that they disliked the flavour? - -"I'm a-comin' in," said the policeman. "You've got a cat shut up there." - -"A cat!" said Cyril. "Oh, my only aunt! _A_ cat!" - -"Come in, then," said Robert. "It's your own look-out. I advise you not. -Wait a shake, and I'll undo the side door." - -He undid the side door, and the policeman, very cautiously, came in. - -And there, in the kitchen, by the light of one candle, with the mewing -and the screaming going on like a dozen steam sirens, twenty waiting -motor-cars, and half a hundred squeaking pumps, four agitated voices -shouted to the policeman four mixed or wholly different explanations of -the very mixed events of the evening. - -Did you ever try to explain the simplest thing to a policeman? - - - - -_Curiosities._ - -Copyright, 1904, by George Newnes, Ltd. - -[_We shall be glad to receive Contributions to this section, and to pay -for such as are accepted._] - - -CART-WHEEL WINDOW. - -[Illustration] - -"There is a blacksmith's shop at Llancayo, near Usk, Mon., that -possesses an extraordinary window. The framework of the window consists -of a cart-wheel let into the wall, with panes of glass between the -spokes."--Mr. W. Marsh, 1, Church Street, Monmouth. - - -CURIOUS ADDRESS. - -"I send you a post-card which I received in the ordinary way by post -from my brother, who lives at Sutton Scarsdale, a scattered village near -Chesterfield. You will notice that the card was posted at 7.15 p.m. on -the 5th October, and it was delivered during the evening of the -following day. The address looks a mixture of Greek and German, but on -inspection it will be found that each letter is spelled out in full. The -pencilled words were inserted by the Post Office officials. The Post -Office is often the object of complaints for tardiness in delivery, but -I think great credit is due to it for its cleverness and promptness in -this case."--Mr. John Alderson, 12, Albert Road, Stroud Green, N. - -[Illustration] - - -A DISTORTING MIRROR. - -"While staying in Jersey I visited a point called La Corbière, where I -noticed a mirror in the form of a ball standing out in the open on a -pedestal. Objects reflected in it were so clear that I determined to -photograph it, with the result that rather curious shapes were given to -myself and friend." Mr. C. S. Wilson, 18, Milton Road, Swindon. - -[Illustration] - - -HOME-MADE MOTOR-CAR. - -[Illustration] - -"This original auto was made in the winter of 1886 by Mr. Philbrick and -Mr. J. Elmer Wood in Beverley, Mass. It had double engines, porcupine -boiler, kerosene fuel, and only three wheels--two of which were -thirty-six inches in diameter, and the front, or steering-wheel, -twenty-six inches. It was used on the road with great success, carrying -about three hundred pounds of steam, but wanted some changes, which even -at that early date we could easily see. The machine is still existing at -Beverley, though it is now, of course, somewhat dilapidated after so -many years of wear."--Mr. J. Elmer Wood, Beverley, Mass. - - -AN AUTOMATIC BASEBALL PITCHER. - -[Illustration] - -"This curious-looking machine is a baseball pitcher which is automatic. -It is operated by compressed air, and is so arranged that it will -'pitch' a ball with an upward curve or downward curve just as well as an -expert ball player. The machine consists of a tube about thirty-six -inches long which is just large enough to hold the ball. The tube can be -pointed in any direction, and the rear end is fitted with a contrivance -by which the ball can be curved. When the operator wishes to make a -pitch he merely presses a lever which admits the compressed air into the -tube, and the ball is shot out like the bullet from an air-gun. The -invention is not intended to take the place of a human pitcher, but to -be used in practice games, so that the man at the bat can become expert -in hitting curves and balls pitched at various degrees of speed." Why -should not a similar machine be used in this country as a practice -bowler at cricket?--The above is sent by Mr. D. Allen Willey, Baltimore. - - -A BOGUS DWARF. - -[Illustration] - -"This figure of the dwarf, taken at an evening party in Kimberley, -South Africa, was impersonated by my brother and a friend as follows: My -brother stood upright with his hands on a table (these forming the feet -of the dwarf), on which were placed stockings and small shoes. He had a -little garment made with sleeves, through which his friend, who stood -just behind, put his arms and hands, on which were mittens to make them -look small; these formed the hands of the dwarf. My brother was adorned -with a large sun hat called a 'cappie,' goggles, and a necklace, and the -dwarf was complete--his friend, of course, being concealed by -curtains."--Mr. F. E. Glover, 41, Drayton Park, Highbury, N. - - -INSECT OR WHAT? - -[Illustration] - -"I send you the photograph of an extraordinarily curious insect: I am -not prepared to say whether it is an insect or some kind of organism. I -can only say that it is alive and lives on red lead. The lady in whose -possession it is has had it for upwards of eighteen years, and who knows -how many years of life it had before? It is covered with light brown -hair (which has to be cut occasionally), very like deer's hair, and is -the size of a large marble. The 'curious insect' was given to the lady's -husband by a rich native who gave up all his worldly possessions and -became a fakir. When giving it to the gentleman (who had shown the man -some kindness) he said that it would always bring him good luck."--Mr. -T. G. A. Baness, Hall Bazaar, Amritsur, Punjab. - - -STRANGE ADVENTURE OF A RAILWAY CARRIAGE. - -[Illustration] - -"The discarded railway carriage shown in the photograph has had an -eventful career. After being drawn at the end of freight trains over -thousands of miles of the Erie Railroad tracks it was finally condemned -and sent to the graveyard, where cars of this character meet an -ignominious end--they being chopped up for firewood. But after it had -been sent to what was thought would be its last resting-place, Lieut. -Peary, the well-known Arctic explorer, asked the Erie Railroad officials -if they could loan him a discarded carriage for use on his ship -_Windward_. This carriage was accordingly selected, and it was placed on -the deck of the _Windward_, where it was fitted up as a cabin. The -journeys of this carriage, therefore, instead of being at an end had -really only begun, for it was destined to make the longest trip in its -history. It remained on board the _Windward_ throughout the perilous -trip to the Frozen North, and returned with the ship to New York a -little over a year ago. Lieut. Peary having no further use for it sent -it back to the Erie Railroad, and it is now an object of curiosity at -Shohola Glen, Pike County, Pa., a popular excursion resort on the line -of the Erie Railroad."--Mr. Adolph A. Langer, 116, Danforth Avenue, -Jersey City, N. J. - - -GIGANTIC BEER BARREL - -[Illustration] - -"This enormous barrel was erected in the great Industrial Exhibition -held at Osaka, Japan. It is the property of the 'Yebisu' Beer Company, -and was built for the purpose of advertising that brand of malt liquor. -The height is about fifty feet and the diameter of its base some thirty -feet, while the thickness of its wall exceeds two feet. It is fitted up -as a beer hall within and contains ten round tables, each capable of -accommodating five or six persons. There is also a large counter. It is -one of the most remarkable of the many advertising devices ever carried -out in this enterprising 'Land of the Rising Sun.' The photograph was -taken by Mr. G. M. Arab, of this city."--Mr. W. J. Toms, Kobé, Japan. - - -AMALGAMATED BY LIGHTNING. - -[Illustration] - -"I send you a photograph showing in two positions the curious -amalgamation of coins by a flash of lightning. This incident occurred in -a miner's hut in Swazieland some time in December, 1897, and the -photograph represents money to the value of fourteen shillings and -sixpence, viz., one half sovereign, four single shillings, and a -sixpence. The money was placed on a table in the order given, the -half-sovereign being under the other coins and lying on the face of the -table. The hut was not injured by the lightning, as the fluid entered by -the window and passed over the table (on which the coins were) and out -at the open door. The table (in the centre of the hut and in a line with -the window and door) had a badly scorched line over it. The money, after -the flash, lay in exactly the same position as before; the only -difference was its being fused into one mass instead of six different -coins. At the time of the flash the miner happened to be absent."--Mr. -A. E. Graham Lawrance, Barberton, Transvaal. - - -HOW DID IT GET THERE? - -[Illustration] - -"I was cutting the corner off a gammon of bacon when I discovered I had -sawn through a piece of glass which was lying quite close to and -parallel with the thigh-bone, and had I known of its presence I could -have taken it out whole. It measures, when put together, six and a -quarter inches. How it got into this position is a mystery, as there was -no indication of its progress anywhere and the meat was perfectly -healthy and in no way discoloured. Whether the poor pig swallowed it or -sat on it I leave for your readers to conjecture. Photo, by W. B. -Gardner, Farnborough."--Mr. W. J. Buck, Cove Road, Farnborough, Hants. - - -A STRANGE ILLUSION. - -[Illustration] - -"You will see in this photograph that the right arm of my daughter has -got the hand on the wrong side, the thumb being where the little finger -ought to be. This is accounted for by the photo, being vignetted, the -hand really belonging to another daughter who does not appear in the -picture."--Mr. Dorsay Ansell, Supt. St. George's Garden, Wakefield -Street, W.C. - - -AN INGENIOUS ADVERTISEMENT. - -[Illustration] - -"The advertisement shown in the accompanying photograph--for some drink -prepared by one Jesse Moore--is quite the cleverest I have seen in any -American city. It is situated near the entrance to the Golden Gate Park, -at San Francisco. The shoulders, head, and arms of the man appearing -above the hoarding are cut out of wood and look most realistic, if -somewhat gigantic, against the background of the sky, and the painting -of the face is quite a work of art."--Mr. F. A. E. Dolmage, 243, -Cromwell Road, South Kensington. - - -A NARROW ESCAPE. - -[Illustration] - -"An officer was resting and enjoying a nap after an exceedingly hard -morning's drill. A flash of lightning first struck and doubled up his -scabbard and thence passed to his mirror hanging close by, smashing it -as the enclosed photo shows. I need hardly say this worthy gentleman, -awaking so suddenly from his slumbers, scarcely knew for some time -whether he was in China, South Africa, or good Old England."--Mr. F. E. -Robinson, Sylvester House, Colchester. - - -CEMETERY FOR SOLDIERS' DOGS. - -[Illustration] - -"Here is a photograph of the cemetery for soldiers' dogs at Edinburgh -Castle. Judging from the inscriptions on the stones, each department -seems to have had its favourite. The band pet was Tork; that of the -pioneer section, Pat; the transport pet, Jess; and so on, including the -general pets, such as Little Tom, Tum-Tum, etc."--Mr. E. Mallinson, 12, -Golden Square, Aberdeen, N.B. - - -A DEVOTED DOG. - -[Illustration] - -"The dog shown in the picture is exceedingly fond of his master and will -follow him almost anywhere. The snap-shot reproduced here shows the dog -actually diving off a board in company with his master, whilst a -friend is turning a somersault behind."--Mr. J. de Tymowski, -Stratford-Sub-Castle, Salisbury. - - -NOT SO TALL AS HE LOOKS. - -[Illustration] - -"At first sight my photograph seems to be that of an immensely tall man, -but in reality the legs of the giant belong to somebody else, while the -top half is standing on a barrel."--Mr. H. S. Nicolson, Brough Lodge, -Fetlar, Shetland. - - +--------------------------------------------------------------+ - | | - | Transcriber's notes: | - | | - | P.77. 'tells it own tale', changed 'it' to 'it's'. | - | P.96. 'prongs of the fork'--changed 'fork' to 'forks'. | - | Fixed various punctuation. | - | | - +--------------------------------------------------------------+ - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Strand Magazine, Volume XXVII, -January 1904, No. 157, by Various - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE STRAND MAGAZINE, VOLUME XXVII, JANUARY 1904, NO. 157 *** - -***** This file should be named 44113-8.txt or 44113-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/4/1/1/44113/ - -Produced by Jane Robins, Jonathan Ingram and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - -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. 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