diff options
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 4 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/65594-0.txt | 2213 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/65594-0.zip | bin | 49133 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/65594-h.zip | bin | 342462 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/65594-h/65594-h.htm | 3161 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/65594-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 246673 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/65594-h/images/header.jpg | bin | 47012 -> 0 bytes |
9 files changed, 17 insertions, 5374 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..355fdd7 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #65594 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/65594) diff --git a/old/65594-0.txt b/old/65594-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 5504448..0000000 --- a/old/65594-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2213 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Chambers's Journal of Popular Literature, -Science, and Art, Fifth Series, No. 18, Vol. I, May 3, 1884, by Various - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Chambers's Journal of Popular Literature, Science, and Art, - Fifth Series, No. 18, Vol. I, May 3, 1884 - -Editor: Various - -Release Date: June 11, 2021 [eBook #65594] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Susan Skinner, Eric Hutton and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was - produced from images generously made available by The Internet - Archive) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHAMBERS'S JOURNAL OF POPULAR -LITERATURE, SCIENCE, AND ART, FIFTH SERIES, NO. 18, VOL. I, MAY 3, 1884 *** - - - - -[Illustration: - -CHAMBERS’S JOURNAL - -OF - -POPULAR - -LITERATURE, SCIENCE, AND ART - -Fifth Series - -ESTABLISHED BY WILLIAM AND ROBERT CHAMBERS, 1832 - -CONDUCTED BY R. CHAMBERS (SECUNDUS) - -NO. 18.—VOL. I. SATURDAY, MAY 3, 1884. PRICE 1½_d._] - - - - -NORFOLK BROADS AND RIVERS. - - -To many, the wild solitudes of marsh and mere, the rivers and ‘broads’ -of Norfolk, are almost as entirely unknown as the arid solitudes of -the unexplored Australian deserts. Yet there are few spots where -the holiday-seeker can find more easily and cheaply relaxation and -enjoyment than in these vast reedy wildernesses of East Anglia. Mr -G. Christopher Davies, in his interesting book, _Norfolk Broads and -Rivers_ (Blackwood and Sons), paints in a graphic manner the engrossing -charm of these placid inland seas, with their reedy margins shimmering -softly green in the gray morning mists, or flushing into warm tints of -beauty beneath the smile of sunset. A stranger is apt to fancy that -marsh scenery is uninteresting; but the very reverse is the case; it -has a beauty of its own, which is seldom even monotonous, so incessant -is the play of sunshine and shadow over the wide sedgy flats and -shallows. The marsh vegetation is luxuriant, even tropical in some of -the more sheltered nooks among the reeds; grasses are abundant, and so -are flowers, which often grow in broad patches, and warm with vivid -gleams of colour the low-toned landscape. In May and June, the banks -are gay with the vivid gold of the yellow iris and marsh buttercup; -then come the crimson glow of the ragged-robin, the delicate blue of -the forget-me-not, the deep purple flush of the loosestrife, and the -creamy white of the water-lilies, which spread till they almost cover -the shallow bays with their broad glossy leaves and shining cups of -white and gold. - -The reedy capes and bays, the sedgy islets, with the green park lands -and wooded glades beyond, give an irresistible charm to these broads, -which is enhanced by the soft stillness of their utter solitude and -loneliness. The passing clouds and rising wind give a certain motion -and variety to the great marsh plain; but nothing speaks of the busy -world beyond save the white sail of a solitary yacht, or the rich -red-brown canvas of a gliding wherry; and not a sound falls on the -listening ear except the monotonous measured plash of the oars or -the wild scream of the startled waterfowl. These wide watery plains, -interesting at all seasons, are often extremely beautiful at sunrise -and sunset. Then gorgeous sky-tints of gold and crimson are flashed -back from the wide mirror-like expanse of the still lagoons with a -vivid glow of colouring which is almost painful in its intensity. The -great forests of reeds gleam like bundles of spears tipped with lambent -flame, and the patches of feathery grasses and flowers are lit up with -weird glimmers of rose-red and gold, glorious but evanescent. Light -gray mists float up from the marshy hollows, mellowing the sunset glow -with an indistinct quivering haze, which, mirage-like, cheats the -wondering gazer with visions of ships and islands and wooded knolls, -which he will search for in vain on the morrow. - -A ‘broad’ is a term peculiar to Norfolk; it means the broadening out -of the rivers into lakes, which is very common all over the marsh -district. These broads abound in fish, and afford capital sport to -the angler. Bream and roach are abundant; and carp, although not so -plentiful, are to be found, and grow to a large size. The rudd, or -red-eye, a beautiful active fish, is very abundant; and few things are -more enjoyable, when the weather is good and the fish rise easily, than -a day’s rudd-fishing on the broads. The paying fish of these marsh -meres are, however, the pike and eel; and a great number of fishermen -live by eel-fishing. Eels are netted, speared, and caught in eel-pots; -and after a flood, when eels are what is called ‘on the move,’ a single -fisherman will often catch as many as four or five stone-weight in a -night. - -The pike is, however, Mr Davies says, ‘the monarch of the Norfolk -waters, and at one time was supremely abundant; but the natives harried -him to their utmost.’ The best way to enjoy pike-fishing and the -scenery of the broads is to take an excursion for a few days in a small -yacht, either alone or with a companion. Human habitations are few and -far between on the banks of the sluggish rivers; but every now and -then one comes upon a cluster of picturesque old-world buildings, or -an ancient primitive village, with small houses furnished with quaint -dormer windows and fantastic gables, and here and there a gray old -church, finely set down on a rising ground amid a clump of ancient -spreading elms. Beyond the broad belt of reeds that fringe the water -are green meadows, dotted with red-and-white cattle, whose effect -from an artistic point of view is very good, but from an angler’s -standpoint is sometimes rather trying, as there is generally a bull, -and as often as not he is a vicious and combative specimen of the -bovine tribe. On this red-letter day, however, even the inevitable -bull was quiet, and our author was left undisturbed to thread his -way, on a soft warm afternoon, through the glowing beauties of an -October landscape. In the marshes, all the seasons have their peculiar -glory; but the autumnal colouring stands out with a vivid distinctness -unknown elsewhere. Beyond the screen of reeds, a belt of wood fringes -the river-bank—beech, alder, and elm, each tree glowing with its own -autumnal tint of red or yellow or russet brown. - -Mr Davies, who had seldom the luck to go a-fishing when pike were -on the move, had two special pools in view, on one or both of which -he relied to fill his basket. Around the first of these the margin -was very soft and wet, and he was daintily picking his steps from -one tussock of grass to another, when whiz went a wild-duck from the -sedges, and in a moment he was floundering up to the knees in mud. -There were, however, pike in the pool when he reached it—great sluggish -beauties, lazily lying under the gleaming, swaying leaves of the -water-lilies. For once, he was in luck, to use his own words: ‘As our -bait traversed the deep back-water, we felt the indescribable thrill, -or rather shock, which proceeds from a decided run, and a three-pound -pike fights as gamely as a ten-pounder.’ The small fish caught, he -trudged on in the waning afternoon sunshine to the second pool; -startling a kingfisher, which flashed out of the reeds behind him like -a veritable gem of living colour. The second pool was closely fringed -with trees and bushes, the dusk-red gold of whose leaves was mirrored -in its placid depths; while every few minutes a crisp leaf-hail dropped -in the level sunshine like Danaë’s fabled showers of gold. Pike, -however, and not artistic effects, were for the moment in our author’s -eye, and pike he was sure there were, lurking under the mass of leaves -which covered the gleaming waters of the pool. ‘Seizing the exact -moment when there was a clear track across the leaf-strewn water, we -cast our bait, and worked it with every sense agog with expectation. -Ah! there is a welcome check at last. We strike hard, and find that -we are fast in a good-sized fish.’ Up and down, round and round, he -goes, floundering wildly about, now in one direction, now in another. -There is a pause of excited uncertainty, during which the line becomes -heavily clogged with leaves. To have, or not to have, the scaly monarch -of the silent pool? that is the question. It was ticklish work for a -few minutes; but at last he turned suddenly on his side, and was towed -into the shallow below, and landed in triumph. - -Pike in these broads sometimes attain a great size, and have been -taken weighing between thirty and forty pounds. The reeds, which -with their bright green and purple fringes form such a prominent -feature in the marsh scenery, are yearly cut and gathered, and are -a really valuable crop. They are used for thatching, making fences, -and supporting plaster-work. Whittlesea Mere, before it was drained, -produced annually a thousand bundles of reeds, which were sold at one -pound per bundle. The men forsake all their other avocations to join in -the reed-harvest, which yields them while it lasts very good wages. - -On some of the broads there is still to be seen an industry fast -falling into decay—decoys with decoy ducks and dogs. These require -to be worked with the utmost silence and caution. One winter-night -in 1881 Mr Davies inspected in company with the keeper the decoy at -Fritton Broad. The night was cold and dark, and each of the men had -to carry a piece of smouldering turf in his hand to destroy the human -scent, which would otherwise have alarmed the wary ducks. This made -their eyes water; and the decoy-dog, a large red retriever, being in -high spirits, insisted on tripping them up repeatedly, as they crawled -along in the darkness bent almost double. The interest of the sight, -however, when at length they reached the decoy, fully made up for -these petty discomforts. Peeping through an eyehole, a flock of teal -were to be seen paddling about quite close to them; while beyond these -were several decoy-ducks, and beyond these again a large flock of -mallards. The decoy-ducks are trained to come for food whenever they -see the dog or hear a whistle from the decoy-man. The dog now showed -himself obedient to a sign from his master, and in an instant every -head among the teal was up, and every bright shy eye twinkling with -pleased curiosity. Impelled by curiosity, they slowly swim towards -the dog, which, slowly retiring, leads them towards the mouth of the -decoy-pipe, showing himself at intervals till they were well within it. -The keeper then ran silently to the mouth of the pipe, and waving his -handkerchief, forced them, frightened and reluctant, to flutter forward -into the tunnel. He then detached a hoop from the grooves, gave it a -twist, and secured them by cutting off their return. This seemed the -last act of the drama, and Mr Davies took the opportunity to straighten -his back, which was aching dreadfully, ‘immediately there was a rush -of wings, and the flock of mallards left the decoy. “There, now, you -ha’ done it!” exclaimed the keeper excitedly. “All them mallards -were following the dog into the pipe, and we could ha’ got a second -lot.” We expressed our sorrow in becoming terms, and watched the very -expeditious way in which he extracted the birds from the tunnel net, -wrung their necks, and flung them into a heap.’ Few places now are -suitable for decoys, for even life in the marshes is not so quiet as it -used to be. - -In all these broads and meres and the rivers which intersect them, -bird-life abounds, and an almost incredible number of eggs are -collected for the market, every egg which resembles a plover’s being -collected and sold as such. Of the bird-dwellers in the marshes, herons -are the most conspicuous; bitterns were also once common, but there -are now few of them, and their singular booming cry is but seldom -heard. The great crested grebe is still plentiful; but the ruff, which -was once very abundant, is now seldom seen. Of the smaller birds, -the graceful bearded tit has become very rare; but willow-wrens and -reed-buntings, jays, and cuckoos and king-fishers find their respective -habitats. - -There are swans to be found all over the broads, particularly on the -river Yare; but they are not plentiful anywhere. A pair take possession -of a particular portion of the river, and defend their proprietary -rights in it with the utmost fierceness. They will not suffer the -intrusion of any other swans, and will very often attack human beings, -if they see any reasonable prospect of success. ‘A swan will not -exactly attack a wherry or even a pleasure-boat; but a canoe comes -within his capacity; and once while rowing down the river Yare in our -small canvas jolly-boat, a cock-swan chased us for half a mile, and -threatened every moment to drive his beak through the canvas.’ - -The appearance of the country around these broads has changed very -much during the last half-century, and this change is still going on. -Wherever it seems possible, drainage-works are attempted and carried -out; and acres upon acres of valuable meadow-land have been and are in -process of being reclaimed from the marsh. Some of these flat green -meadows, which a century back were sodden quagmires covered with -stagnant water, now pasture large herds of cattle, and are let at four -pounds an acre for grazing purposes. At the outlet of the drains into -the river, drainage windmills are erected of every size and shape, from -the brick tower to the skeleton wooden erection painted a brilliant red -or green. These windmills form a striking and picturesque addition to -the background of a marsh picture, but, like the decoys, they will soon -be a thing of the past, as they are now beginning to be superseded by -steam, which does the work required much more efficiently and quickly. - -Otters abound in the pathless forests of reeds which fringe the meres, -and are often bold and familiar. One night while sleeping on board his -yacht at Cantley, Mr Davies was awakened by the noise of something -heavy jumping on board. The boat rocked violently, and the disturbance -was so sudden and inexplicable, that he got up just in time to see a -large dark object plunge overboard and disappear. On striking a light, -the broad and unmistakable track of an otter, was visible, imprinted -wherever his moist feet had been, and that seemed to be everywhere, for -he had evidently made a round in search of something eatable. - -The whole marsh district is subject to destructive floods and high -tides, which rush up the rivers, driving back the fresh water and -destroying vast quantities of fish. The whole coast also suffers much -from sea-breaches. ‘Between Winterton and Waxham, hard by Hornsea Mere, -the only barrier between sea and lake is a line of what are called -“miel” banks, which are simply banks of sand held together by marum -grasses. Upon this marum grass, which grows in the loosest sand, the -welfare of a wide district depends. In 1781, there were many breaches -of the sea between Waxham and Winterton, so that every tide the salt -water and sands destroyed the marshes and the fish in the broads and -river; and if the wind blew briskly from the north-west, by which the -quantity of water in the North Sea was largely increased from the -Atlantic, the salt water drowned all the low country even as far as -Norwich.’ In the following eight years, the breaches were seriously -widened, the largest being two hundred yards in width, through which a -vast body of water poured. - -In a country so open, wind-storms are very frequent; and what -are called ‘Rodges blasts,’ rotatory whirlwinds, often occasion -great damage, wrecking the windmills, uprooting trees, convulsing -the grasses, and lifting the reed-stacks high into the air. -Will-o’-the-wisps, once very common, are now comparatively rare, having -been exorcised by drainage. Mr Davies only once saw one at Hickling -over a wet bit of meadow. ‘The sportive fiend that haunts the mead’ -appeared to him as a small flickering phosphorescent light faintly -visible in the darkness. - -Another peculiar and uncomfortable phenomenon of the marshes is the -water-eynd or sea-smoke, which, rolling up from the ocean, covers the -whole landscape with a dense watery vapour, shutting out the placid -beauty of lagoon and mere, and reed-bed and coppice, and putting an end -to all pleasure, till the sun shines out again in a blaze of glory, -bathing the drenched flats in a warm flush of colour. The reeds on the -wide margins of the meres then quiver in the sunlight, which shimmers -down into their dark-green recesses; the still water gleams in the -shallow bays, where the cattle stand knee deep; and the warm air is -redolent of the odour of meadow-sweet and thyme: all is motion and -colour and fragrance, as if Nature were visibly rejoicing at having got -quit of the uncomfortable bath of the water-eynd. - - - - -BY MEAD AND STREAM. - -BY CHARLES GIBBON. - - -CHAPTER XXVI.—A QUESTION OF DIVISION. - -Philip locked his desk, after placing Mr Shield’s letter in his -pocket-book, locked his door, and hastened to the station in time to -catch one of the afternoon fast trains to Dunthorpe. As he was in a -hurry, he hired a fly to Ringsford. On the way down, he had made up his -mind to get over what he anticipated would be a disagreeable interview -with his father, before going to Willowmere. Then he would be able to -tell Madge all about it, and receive comfort from her. - -He alighted at the gate, and walked swiftly up the avenue. The sun was -out of sight; but it had left behind a soft red glow, which warmed and -brightened the blackened landscape. Peering through the dark lacework -formed by the bare branches of the trees, he saw a figure standing as -it were in the centre of that red glow: the shadows which surrounded -Philip making the figure on the higher ground beyond appear to be a -long way off. A melancholy figure: light all round him, darkness within -himself. - -Philip quickened his steps, and taking a footpath through the -shrubbery, advanced to his father, as he was beginning to move slowly -from the position in which he had halted. - -‘Glad to see you, Philip,’ said Mr Hadleigh, whilst he did what he -had rarely done before—took his son’s arm. There was also a touch -of unusual kindliness in his voice and manner. ‘I have missed you -the last few evenings more than I fancied I should do. You have been -enjoying yourself, no doubt—theatres, clubs, friends and cards perhaps. -Well, enjoy these things whilst you may. You have the means and the -opportunity. I never had; and it is singular how soon the capacity for -enjoyment is extinguished. Like everything else—capacity or faculty—it -requires exercise, if it is to be kept in good condition.’ - -Philip was relieved, but considerably puzzled by his father’s strange -humour. - -‘I have been enjoying myself; but not in the way you mention. I have -been harder at work than I have ever been, except when preparing for -the last exam.’ - -‘Ah, and you did not make so very much out of that hard work after all.’ - -‘Not so much as I ought to have done, certainly; but I hope to make -more out of this effort,’ said Philip, with an attempt to pass lightly -by the uncomfortable reminder that he had failed to take his degree. -‘Have you read the papers I sent you?’ - -‘Yes.’ - -Mr Hadleigh spoke as if reluctant to make the admission, and his brows -contracted slightly, but his arm rested more kindly on that of his son, -as if to make amends for this apparent want of sympathy. Philip was -unconscious of these signs of varying moods. - -‘I am glad of that—now you will be able to give me the benefit of your -advice. Wrentham fancies I am running after a chimera, and will come to -grief. He has not said that precisely; but what he has said, and his -manner, convince me that that is his notion; and I am afraid that it -will materially affect the value of his help to me. I should like you -to tell me what you think.’ - -Mr Hadleigh was silent; and they walked on towards the sheltered grove, -where, during his convalescence, Philip had spent so many pleasant -hours with Madge. As they were passing through it, the father spoke: - -‘I did not want to read those papers, Philip, but—weakness, perhaps—a -little anxiety on your account, possibly, compelled me to look over -them. I have nothing to say further than this—the experiment is worth -making, when you have the means at command. I should have invested -the money, and enjoyed myself on the interest. You see’ (there was a -curious half-sad, half-mocking smile on his face), ‘I who have known -so little pleasure in life, am a strong advocate for the pleasure of -others.’ - -‘And that is very much the same theory which I am trying to work out.’ - -‘Yes; and I hope you will succeed, but—you are forgetting _yourself_.’ - -‘Not at all—my pleasure will be found in my success.’ - -‘Success,’ muttered Mr Hadleigh, speaking to himself; ‘that is our one -cry—let me succeed in this, and I shall be happy!... We must all work -it out for ourselves.’ Then, as if rousing from a dream: ‘I hope you -will succeed, Philip; but I have no advice to give beyond this—take -care of yourself.’ - -‘That is just what I am anxious for you and’—(he was about to say -‘and Mr Shield;’ but desirous of avoiding any unpleasant element, -he quickly altered the phrase)—‘you and everybody to understand. My -object is not to establish a new charity, but a business which will -yield me a satisfactory income for my personal labour, and a sufficient -interest on the capital invested, whilst it provides the same for my -work-people, or, as I should prefer to call them, my fellow-labourers. -As my returns increase, theirs should increase’—— - -‘Or diminish according to the result of your speculation?’ interrupted -Mr Hadleigh drily. - -‘Of course—that is taken for granted. Now, I want you to tell me, do -you think this is folly?’ - -‘No, not folly,’ was the slow meditative reply, ‘if you find pleasure -in doing it. My theory is doubtless a selfish one, but it is the -simplest rule to walk by—that is, do what is best for yourself in the -meantime, and in the end, the chances are that you will find you have -also done the best for others. If you believe that this experiment is -the most satisfactory thing you can do for yourself, then, it is not -folly, even if it should fail.’ - -‘Thank you. I cannot tell you how much you relieve my mind. I am -convinced that in making this experiment I am dealing with a problem -of great importance. It is a system by which capital and labour shall -have an equal interest in working earnestly for the same end. I want to -set about it on business principles. You are the only man of practical -experience who has spoken a word of comfort on the subject.’ - -‘I am dealing with it from a selfish point of view—considering only -how you can obtain most pleasure, comfort, happiness—call it what you -may—for yourself out of your fortune. I should never have entered on -such a scheme. You tell me that it was optional on your part to go into -business or to live on the interest of the money?’ - -‘Quite optional; but of course I could not accept the trust and do -nothing.’ - -‘Ah, I think my advice would have been that you should have accepted -the trust, as you call it, invested it in safe securities, married, and -basked in the sunshine of life—an easy mind, and a substantial balance -at your banker’s.’ - -‘But my mind would not have been easy if I had done that.’ - -‘Then you were right not to do it. Every man has his own way of seeking -happiness. You have yours; and I shall watch the progress of your work -with attentive interest.—But we have other matters to speak about. I -have done something of which I hope you will approve.’ - -Philip could not help smiling at this intimation. Mr Hadleigh had never -before suggested that he desired or required the approval of any one in -whatever he chose to do. - -‘You can be sure of what my opinion will be of anything you do, sir.’ - -‘Perhaps.’ - -They walked on in silence, and passed Culver’s cottage. They met Pansy -coming from the well with a pail of water. She put down the pail, and -courtesied to the master and his son. She was on Philip’s side of the -path, and he whispered in passing: - -‘There is good news for you by-and-by, Pansy.’ - -She smiled vaguely, and blushed—she blushed at everything, this little -wood-nymph. - -‘What is the good news you have for the girl?’ asked Mr Hadleigh -sharply, although he had not appeared to be observing anything. - -‘I suppose there can be no harm in telling you, although it is a kind -of a secret.’ - -‘What is it?’ - -‘Caleb Kersey is making up to Pansy; but old Sam does not like it, as -the young man is so unsettled. The good news I have for her is that -Kersey has joined me, and will have good wages and good prospects.’ - -‘You might have told her at once.’ - -‘I thought it better that the man himself should do that.... But you -had something to say about yourself.’ - -‘It concerns you more than me,’ said Mr Hadleigh, resuming his low -meditative tone. ‘I have been altering my will.’ - -There are few generous-minded men who like to hear anything about -even a friend’s will, and much less about that of a parent who in all -probability has a good many years still to live. Philip was extremely -sensitive on the subject, and therefore found it difficult to say -anything at all when his father paused. - -‘I would rather you did not speak about it,’ he said awkwardly. ‘There -is and there can be no necessity to do so. You have many years before -you yet, and in any case I shall be content with whatever arrangement -you make.’ - -‘Many years before me still,’ continued Mr Hadleigh musingly, repeating -his son’s words. ‘True; I believe I have; it is possible even that I -might marry again, and begin a new life altogether with prospects of -happiness, since it would be guided by the experience of the past. Most -people have a longing at some time or other that they might begin all -over again; and why should not a man of, say middle age, take a fresh -start, and realise in the new life the happiness he has missed—by his -own folly or that of others—in the old one?’ - -Philip did not understand, and so remained silent. - -Was there ever a grown-up son or daughter who felt quite pleased with -the idea of a parent’s second marriage? When the marriage cannot be -prevented, the sensible ones assume a graciousness, if they do not feel -it, and go on their way with varying degrees of comfort in being on -friendly terms with their parent; the foolish ones sulk, suffer, cause -annoyance, and derive no benefit from their ill-humour. Philip was -surprised and a little amused at the suggestion of his father marrying -again. The idea had never occurred to him before; and now, when it was -presented, the memory of his mother stirred in him what he owned at -once was an unreasonable feeling of disapproval. To his youthful mind, -a man nearly fifty was old; he had not yet reached the period at which -the number of years required to make a man old begins to extend up to, -and even beyond the threescore and ten. When he came to think of it, -however, he could recollect numerous instances of men much older than -his father marrying for the second, third, or fourth time. - -‘Yes, it is possible to make a fresh start,’ Mr Hadleigh went on, still -musing; ‘and one may learn to forget the past. Did you ever consider, -Philip, what a tyrant memory is?’ - -‘I cannot say that I have, sir.’ - -‘No; you are too young—by-and-by you will understand.... But this is -not what I wanted to speak about.’ - -He rested a little more on his son’s arm, as if he were in that way -desirous of giving him a kindly pressure, whilst he recalled his -thoughts to the immediate subject he wished to explain. - -‘It is about the will. I have made a new one. I suppose you are aware -that although my fortune is considerable whilst it remains in the hands -of one person, it dwindles down to a moderate portion when divided -amongst four or five?’ - -‘Clearly.’ - -‘Then suppose you and I reverse our positions for a time. You have five -children, three of them being girls. You wish to leave each of them -as well provided for as possible. One of the sons becomes by peculiar -circumstances the possessor of a fortune almost equal to your own. Tell -me how you would divide your property?’ - -Philip reflected for a few moments, and then with a bright look, which -showed that he had taken in the whole problem, replied: - -‘The thing is quite simple. I should leave the son who had been so -lucky only a trifle of some sort, in token of good-will; and I should -divide the whole of the property amongst the other four. That would be -the right thing to do; would it not?’ - -The father halted, grasped his hand, and looked at him with a smile. -This was such an unusual sign of emotion, that Philip was for an -instant taken aback. - -‘That is almost precisely what I have done,’ said Mr Hadleigh calmly; -‘and your answer is what I expected. Still, it pleases me to learn from -your own lips that you are satisfied.’ - -‘Not only satisfied, but delighted that you should have had so much -confidence in me as to know I should be.’ - -‘A few words more and I shall release you.—Oh, I know that you are -eager to be off, and where you wish to be off to. Right, right—seek -the sweets of life, the bitters come.... You are separating yourself -from me. That is natural, and follows as a matter of course. I would -have liked it better if the circumstances had been different. Enough of -that. Your rooms at the house will be always ready for you, and come -when you may, you will be welcome to me. Now, go: be happy.’ - -He pointed towards the Forest in the direction of Willowmere. He looked -older than usual: in his movement and attitude there was an unconscious -solemnity, as if he were giving his favourite son a blessing while -sending him forth into the world. - -Philip bowed. He saw that his father was strangely agitated, and so -turned away without speaking. - -What was in the man’s mind, as he watched the stalwart figure rapidly -disappear into the shadows of the Forest? Hitherto, he had been walking -and standing erect, although his head was bent a little, as usual. -Now his whole form appeared to collapse, as if its strength had been -suddenly withdrawn, and he dwindled, as it were, in height and breadth. - -The shadows deepened upon him as he stood there; stars began to appear; -a branch of an elm-tree close by began to creak monotonously—betokening -the gathering strength of the wind, although at present it seemed -light; and still he remained in that dejected attitude, gazing vacantly -in the direction taken by Philip, long after Philip had disappeared. - -He roused from his trance, looked round him, then clasping hands at his -back, walked dreamily after his son. - - - - -QUEER LODGERS. - - -Scientific research, especially when directed to the more obscure -and remote conditions of animal life, has often a twofold interest. -In itself, and in the marvellous structural adaptations revealed by -the microscope, the pursuit has its own special attraction; while, in -addition, the information thus obtained may be so practically utilised -as to minister to the preservation of health, and to the improved -rearing and cultivation of animals and plants. An inquiry, conducted -three years ago, by Professor A. P. Thomas, at the instance of the -Royal Agricultural Society of England, is noticeable in both these -respects. The inquiry extended over a period of more than two years, -and the object in view throughout was the discovery of the origin and -possible prevention of a well-known and destructive disease affecting -sheep and other grazing animals, both in this country and abroad; -and during the course of the inquiry, which was a painstaking and -exhaustive one, facts of no small interest, from the view-point of -natural history alone, have been elicited. - -By this disease—Liver-fluke, Fluke Disease, Liver-rot, as it is -variously termed—it has been estimated that as many as one million -sheep perished annually, in this country alone, from the effects of -the malady—a loss which was doubled, if not sometimes trebled, by the -advent of a wet season such as 1879, and which does not include the -large percentage of animals annually dying in America, Australia, and -elsewhere from the same cause. It was known that the disease was due -to the presence of a parasitic flat worm in greater or lesser numbers, -together with its eggs, in the entrails of infected sheep, and also -that flocks grazing habitually in low and marshy pasture-grounds were -generally more liable than others to be attacked; but it was not known -precisely in what manner the disease was incurred. - -It was not until 1882 that careful experiment finally succeeded in -tracing throughout the wonderful life-career of the liver-fluke, and -shedding light upon the possibility of the prevention of the scourge. -Into this latter question of prevention, we do not enter at present. -Those who are interested, practically or otherwise, in this branch of -the subject may consult for full particulars the scientific journals -in which the results of this inquiry first appeared. (See _Journal -of Royal Agricultural Society_, No. 28; also _Quarterly Journal of -Microscopical Science_ for January 1883. For the history of the -disease, see _The Rot in Sheep_, by Professor Simonds; London: John -Murray, 1880.) Even from a dietetic point of view, it is for the public -good that the disease should be extirpated, as it is well known that -unwholesome dropsical meat, from the bodies of fluke-infested sheep, -is frequently pushed on the market. Nor is this parasite exclusively -confined to the lower animals. It has been communicated to human -beings, doubtless from the consumption of infected meat producing cysts -in the liver, &c. - -But it is the initial results of Professor Thomas’s experiments, those -which trace the progress of the fluke from the embryo to the adult -stage, with which we have to do at present. - -Starting from the previously observed but obscure relationship said -to exist between the larval forms of certain snails or slugs and the -liver-fluke, as found in the carcases of sheep and other infected -back-boned animals, it was discovered, after much careful examination, -that a certain connection _did_ exist between them, with this -remarkable circumstance in addition—that the minute cysts, or bags, -which contain the embryo fluke, and which are to be found adhering to -grass stalks in some sheep-pastures, emanated, indeed, from the body -of one particular description of snail, but that this embryo parasite -was undoubtedly derived—several generations previously, and in quite -another form—from the sheep itself! - -The _original_ embryo—not that which clings to grass stalks, but the -embryo three or four generations before, born of the adult fluke’s -egg—is hatched after the egg drops from the sheep’s body, in marshy -ground, ditches, or ponds. It then attaches itself to the snail, -produces in the snail’s body two, and sometimes three generations of -successors, all totally dissimilar from the original fluke. The last -generation alone quits the snail, and, assuming the ‘cyst’ form, waits -to be swallowed by the grazing animal, in order to become a full-grown -fluke. The fluke’s progeny again go through the transformation changes -of their predecessors. - -Once more, in order to render the process clear. Taking the adult -fluke—laying its eggs principally in the bile-ducts of the sheep, which -it never leaves—as the original parent, its children, grandchildren, -and great-grandchildren, inhabiting the snail, are all totally -different in appearance from their original progenitor—most of the -generations differing also from each other. It is only the fourth, -though sometimes the third generation, which, changing its form to a -migratory one, is enabled thereby to leave the snail, and ultimately to -assume the cyst form, adapted to produce in time the veritable fluke -once more. Naturalists term this process, one not unknown in other -forms of life, ‘alternation of generation,’ or metagenesis. - -The appearance of the full-grown fluke (_Fasciola hepatica_) is well -known to sheep-farmers and others. It is of an oval or leaf-like -shape, not unlike a small flounder or fluke (hence the name of the -worm), pale brown in colour, and ranging in size from an inch to an -inch and a third in length—though occasionally much smaller, even the -twenty-fourth of an inch—and in breadth about half its own length. A -projecting portion is seen at the head, with a mouth placed in the -centre of a small sucker at the tip, by which the fluke attaches -itself. Over two hundred flukes have been found in the liver of a -single sheep. Each one is estimated to produce some hundreds of -thousands of eggs. Each of the eggs contains one embryo, which when -full grown is nearly the length of the egg—the spare egg-space up to -that time being filled with the food-stuff to support it till hatched. -As long as the egg continues in the body of the sheep, it remains -inert. It is only when dropped—as they are from time to time in great -numbers by the animal—and alighting upon wet ground, or on water in -ditches or drains, that, under favourable conditions of heat, &c., the -embryo at length comes forth. The time which elapses before the egg is -hatched is extremely variable. - -Viewed through a microscope, the egg, which is only the two-hundredth -of an inch in diameter, may be seen to contain the embryo, which is -unlike its parent in every way, and will never show any trace of family -likeness to it. It is in the shape of a sugar-loaf, with a slight -projecting point at the broader end, and two rudimentary eyes near the -same. When hatched on damp ground or in water, it swims freely about -with the broader end forward, like a boat propelled stern foremost. The -whole of its body, except the projecting horn, which is drawn in when -swimming, is covered with long waving hairs, or _cilia_, which, being -moved backwards and forwards, serve as oars, or paddles, to propel it -through the water. - -Swimming with a restless revolving motion through the water, the -embryo begins to search for suitable quarters—in other words, to -find a snail wherein to quarter itself. It is not easily satisfied, -although snails, generally speaking, are plentiful enough. Indeed, it -has been definitely ascertained that of all the known descriptions of -snails there are only _two_ which the embryo ever attacks. Of these -two species, only one is apparently suitable as a dwelling, those who -enter the other perishing shortly after admittance. The only suitable -snail is a very insignificant fresh-water one, _Limnæus truncatulus_, -with a brown spiral shell. It is only from a quarter to a half inch in -size, and seems to have no popular name. It is to be found very widely -distributed through the world. Said to breed in mud of ditches and -drains, it is so far amphibious as to wander far from water. It can -also remain dry for a lengthened period; and even when apparently quite -shrivelled up for lack of moisture, revives with a shower of rain. - -The embryo knows this snail from all others; placed in a basin of -water, with many other species of snails, it at once singles this one -out, to serve as an intermediate host. Into the soft portion of the -snail’s body, the embryo accordingly begins to make its way. Pressing -the boring horn or tool of its head against the yielding flesh of the -snail, the embryo advances with a rotary motion like a screw-driver, -aided by the constant movement of the _cilia_. The borer, as it pierces -the snail, grows longer and longer, and finally operating as a wedge, -a rent is eventually made sufficiently large to admit the unbidden -guest bodily to the lodgings it will never quit. It settles at once -in or near the lung of the snail, there to feed on the juices of the -animal. The paddle-like cilia, now useless, are thrown off; the eyes -become indistinct; it subsides into a mere bag of germs, as it changes -to a rounder form, and becomes in other words a _sporocyst_, or bladder -of germs—for this animal, unlike its egg-laying parent, produces its -young alive within itself. - -This, then, is the first stage—the embryo, from the fluke’s egg, -migrates to, and becomes a sporocyst in the snail’s body. - -The germs inside the sporocyst in time come to maturity, commencing the -existence of the _second_ generation, which are called _rediæ_. These -germs number from six to ten in each sporocyst; they grow daily more -elongated in form, and one by one, leave the parent by breaking through -the body-walls, the rent which is thus made closing up behind them. -These _rediæ_ thus born, never leave the snail. They are, however, -different from the sporocyst, being about the twentieth of an inch, in -adult size, sack-like in shape, furnished with a mouth, and also with -an intestine. Two protuberances behind serve the animal for legs; for, -unlike the sporocyst, the _redia_ does not remain in one part of its -house, but travels backwards and forwards, preying chiefly on the liver -of the snail, and generally doing a great deal of damage. Finally, -indeed, these parasites destroy their host altogether. - -In the bodies of the _rediæ_—so called after Redi, the anatomist—the -third generation again is formed in germ fashion. The nature of this -third generation varies. _Rediæ_ may in turn produce _rediæ_ like -themselves, tenants of the snail for life; or they may produce another -form, totally dissimilar, one which is fitted for quitting the snail -and entering on another mode of existence. This change, however, takes -place either in the first generation produced by the _rediæ_, or, at -latest, in the second, more frequently in the latter. At first, this -new form appears like the young of the sporocyst. But when either in -the children or the grandchildren of the first _rediæ_, this stage is -reached, the animal undergoes a remarkable change, to fit it for new -surroundings. It is to be an emigrant, and dons for that purpose a tail -twice as long as itself. It is then termed a _cercaria_, and is shaped -like a tadpole. - -To recapitulate, then. A _cercaria_ may thus be the young of the -_rediæ_, either of the first or second generation; and the _rediæ_ -again sprang from the sporocyst, which is the after-formation of the -fluke’s embryo. These _cercariæ_ or tadpole-shaped animals are flat -and oval in the body, about the ninetieth of an inch in length, and -tail more than twice as long. They escape from the parent _rediæ_ by -a natural orifice, crawl out of the snail, and enter on a new life. -Its existence as a _cercaria_ in this style will much depend on the -locality of the snail for the time being. If it should find itself in -water when quitting the snail, the _cercaria_ attaches itself when -swimming to the stalks of aquatic plants; or if in confinement, to the -walls of the aquarium. If the snail is in a field or on the edge of -a ditch or pool, the _cercaria_ on leaving proceeds to fix itself to -the stalks or lower leaves of grass near the roots. In every case the -result is the same. Gathering itself up into a round ball on coming -to rest, a gummy substance exudes from the body, forming a round -white envelope; the tail, being violently agitated, falls off, and -the round body left, hardening externally with exposure, the cyst or -bladder—measuring about the hundredth of an inch across—is complete. -Every cyst contains a young fluke, ready to be matured _only when -swallowed by some grazing animal, such as a sheep_. Till that happens, -the fluke within remains inert; and if not swallowed thus within a few -weeks, the inmate of the cyst finally perishes. Of this remarkable -family, however, a sufficient number outlive the changes and risks of -their life-history to render the disease caused by the survivors a -serious scourge. - -It is to be hoped that the further results of careful inquiry into the -habits of these parasites will have the effect of reducing the evil to -a minimum. - - - - -CHEWTON-ABBOT. - -BY HUGH CONWAY. - - -IN THREE CHAPTERS.—CHAPTER I. - -The Abbots of Chewton-Abbot, Gloucestershire, were county people, and, -moreover, had always occupied that coveted position. They dreaded -not the researches of the officious antiquary who pokes about in -pedigrees, and finds that, three or four generations ago, the founders -of certain families acquired their wealth by trade. They at least were -independent of money-earning. The fact that Chewton began to be known -as Chewton-Abbot so far back as the fifteenth century, showed they were -no upstarts. Indeed, if not of the very first rank—that rank from which -knights of the shire are chosen—the Abbots, from the antiquity of their -family, and from the centuries that family had owned the same estates, -were entitled to dispute the question of precedence with all save a -few very great magnates. They were undoubtedly people of importance. -The reigning Abbot, it need scarcely be said, was always a county -magistrate, and at some period of his life certain to serve as sheriff. -But for generations the family had occupied exactly the same position, -and exercised exactly the same amount of influence in the land. The -Abbots seemed neither to rise nor fall. If they added nothing to their -estates, they alienated nothing. If they gave no great statesmen, -warriors, or geniuses to the world, they produced, sparingly, highly -respectable members of society, who lived upon the family acres and -spent their revenues in a becoming manner. - -The estates were unentailed; but as, so far, no Abbot had incurred -his father’s displeasure, the line of descent from father to eldest -son had been unbroken, and appeared likely to continue so. True, it -was whispered, years ago, that the custom was nearly changed, when Mr -William Abbot, the present owner of the estate, was leading a life in -London very different from the respectable traditions of the family. -But the reports were not authenticated; and as, soon after his father’s -death, he married a member of an equally old, equally respectable, and -equally proud family, all such ill-natured gossip died a natural death; -and at the time this tale opens, William Abbot was leading the same -quiet life his ancestors had led before him. - -It was one of the cherished Abbot traditions that the family was not -prolific. So long as the race was kept from disappearing, they were -contented. In this respect the present head of the family showed -himself a true Abbot. He had but one son, a young man who had just -taken a fair degree at Oxford, and who was now staying at Chewton -Hall, before departing on a round of polite travel, which, according -to old-world precedent, his parents considered necessary to crown the -educational edifice. - -Mr and Mrs Abbot were in the breakfast-room at Chewton Hall. Mr Abbot -was alone at the table, lazily discussing his breakfast. His wife and -son, who were early risers, had taken that meal nearly an hour before. -The young man being away on some outdoor pursuit, the husband and wife -had the room to themselves. Mr Abbot had just poured out his second -cup of tea, and, according to his usual custom, commenced breaking the -seals of the letters which lay beside his plate. His wife drew near to -him. - -‘I am afraid that infatuated boy has in some way entangled himself with -the young woman I told you of,’ she said. - -‘What young woman?’ asked Mr Abbot, laying down his letters. - -‘I told you last week he was always riding into Bristol—so often, that -I felt sure there was some attraction there.’ - -‘You did, I remember. But I took little notice of it. Boys will be -boys, you know.’ - -‘Yes; but it is time we interfered. I found him this morning kissing a -photograph and holding a lock of hair in his hand. I taxed him with his -folly.’ - -‘My dear Helena,’ said Mr Abbot, with a shade of contempt in his voice, -‘will you forgive my saying, that in matters of this kind it is best to -leave young men alone, and not to see more than can be helped. Leave -the boy alone—that is my advice.’ - -‘You don’t quite understand me,’ replied Mrs Abbot. ‘He wants to marry -her.’ - -‘Wants to do what!’ cried her husband, now fully aware of the gravity -of the situation. - -‘He told me this morning he had asked her to be his wife. She would, he -knew, consent, if we would welcome her as a daughter.’ - -‘How kind! How considerate!’ said Mr Abbot scornfully. ‘Who may she be, -and where did Frank meet her?’ - -‘He saved her from some incivility at the railway station, and so made -her acquaintance. Who she is, he scarcely seems to know, except that -her name is Millicent Keene, and that she lives with an aunt somewhere -in Clifton. Frank gave me the address, and begged me to call—assuring -me that I should take her to my heart the moment I saw her.’ - -‘He must be mad!’ exclaimed Mr Abbot, rising and pacing the room. ‘Mad, -utterly mad! Does he think that we are going to let him—an Abbot—marry -the first nameless young woman who strikes his fancy? I will talk to -him, and soon bring him to his senses. The estates are unentailed, -thank goodness! so I have some hold over him.’ - -Mrs Abbot’s lip just curled with scorn, as she heard her husband’s -direct commonplace plan for restoring her son’s wandering senses. She -knew that such parental thunderbolts were apt to do more harm than good. - -‘I would not threaten just yet,’ she said. ‘Frank is very self-willed, -and may give us trouble. For my part, I intend to drive into Clifton -this morning and see the girl.’ - -‘What folly! To give the affair your apparent sanction?’ - -‘No. To show her how absurd it is to fancy we shall ever allow Frank to -take a wife out of his proper sphere; and to hint that if he marries -against our will, her husband will be a beggar. The fact of her -withholding her consent to marry him until we approve of her, shows me -she is quite able to look after her own interests.’ - -Mr Abbot, who knew his wife’s skill in social diplomacy, offered no -valid objections; so the horses were ordered, and Mrs Abbot drove to -Clifton. - -The mistress of Chewton Hall was a woman of about fifty-five; tall and -stately, noticeably but not attractively handsome. Rising in intellect -far above the level of the family into which she had married, she had -started by endeavouring to mould her husband’s mind to the capacities -of her own. In the early days of their married life, she had urged him -unceasingly to strive for a higher position in the world than that of -a mere country gentleman. She wished him to enter the political arena; -to contest a borough; in fact, to change his way of living entirely. -But she found the task a hopeless one. A docile husband in most things, -nothing could move William Abbot from the easy groove in which his -forefathers had always placidly slidden. The husband and wife were of -very different natures. Perhaps the only common ground between them -was their family pride and the sense of their importance. Yet while -the gentleman was quite contented with the latter as it now stood, and -always had stood, the lady was ambitious, and wished to augment it. -But her efforts were of no avail; so at last, with a feeling touching -dangerously near to contempt, she gave up attempting to sway her -husband in this direction, and centred all her hopes in her only son, -on whom she flattered herself she had bestowed some of her superior -intellect. He should play an important part in the world. At the first -opportunity, he should enter parliament, become a distinguished member -of society, and, so far as possible, satisfy her ambition. Of course -he must marry, but his marriage should be one to strengthen his hands -both by wealth and connections. Now that he was on the threshold of -man’s estate, she had turned her serious attention to this subject, and -had for some time been considering what heiresses she knew who were -worthy of picking up the handkerchief which she meant to let fall on -his behalf. She had postponed her decision until his return from the -contemplated tour. Then she would broach the subject of an advantageous -matrimonial alliance to him. By broaching the subject, Mrs Abbot meant -laying her commands upon her son to wed the lady she had chosen for him. - -As she drove along the twelve miles of road to Clifton, and reflected -on all these things, is it any wonder that her frame of mind was an -unpleasant one; that her eyes grew hard, and she felt little disposed -to be merciful to the owner of that pretty face which threatened to -come between her and the cherished schemes of years? - -The carriage stopped at the address given her by her son—a quiet -little house in a quiet little street, where the arrival of so grand -an equipage and so fine a pair of horses was an event of sufficient -rarity to make many windows open, and maid-servants, even mistresses, -crane out and wonder what it meant. Mrs Abbot, having ascertained that -Miss Keene was at home, and having made known her wish to see her, was -shown into a room plainly but not untastefully furnished. A piano, -an unfinished drawing, some dainty embroidery, gave evidence of more -refinement than Mrs Abbot expected, or, to tell the truth, hoped to -find in her enemy’s surroundings. A bunch of flowers, artistically -arranged, was in a glass vase on the table; and the visitor felt more -angry and bitter than before, as she recognised many a choice orchid, -and knew by this token that the Chewton hothouses had been robbed for -Miss Keene’s sake. Mrs Abbot tapped her foot impatiently as she awaited -the moment when her youthful enemy should appear and be satisfactorily -crushed. - -The mistress of Chewton-Abbot had somehow conceived the idea that the -girl who had won her son’s heart was of a dollish style of beauty. -She may have jumped at this conclusion from the memories of her own -young days, when she found the heart of man was more susceptible to -attractions of this type than to those of her own severer charms. -Pretty enough, after a fashion, she expected to find the girl, but -quite crushable and pliant between her clever and experienced hands. -She had no reason for this impression. She had coldly declined to -look at the portrait which her son, that morning, had wished to show -her. Having formed her own ideal of her would-be successor at Chewton -Hall, she regulated her actions accordingly. Her plan was to begin by -striking terror into the foe. She wished no deception; the amenities of -social warfare might be dispensed with on this occasion. Knowing the -advantage usually gained by a sudden and unexpected attack, she had not -revealed her name. She simply desired the servant to announce a lady to -see Miss Keene. - -Hearing a light step approaching the door, Mrs Abbot drew herself up to -her full height and assumed the most majestic attitude she could. It -was as one may imagine a fine three-decker of the old days turning her -broadside, with sixty guns run out and ready for action, upon some puny -foe, to show her that at a word she might be blown out of the water. Or -it was what is called nowadays a demonstration in force. - -The door opened, and Millicent Keene entered. Mrs Abbot bowed slightly; -then, without speaking a word, in a deliberate manner looked the -newcomer up and down. She did not for a moment attempt to conceal the -object of her visit. Her offensive scrutiny was an open declaration of -war, and the girl was welcome to construe it as such. - -But what did the great lady see as she cast that hostile, but, in spite -of herself, half-curious glance on the girl who came forward to greet -her unexpected visitor? She saw a beautiful girl of about nineteen; -tall, and, making allowances for age, stately as herself. She saw a -figure as near perfection as a young girl’s may be. She saw a sweet -calm face, with regular features and pale pure complexion, yet with -enough colour to speak of perfect health. She saw a pair of dark-brown -truthful eyes—eyes made darker by the long lashes—a mass of brown hair -dressed exactly as it should be. She saw, in fact, the exact opposite -to the picture she had drawn: and as Millicent Keene, with graceful -carriage and a firm but light step, advanced towards her, Mrs Abbot’s -heart sank. She had entirely miscalculated the strength of the enemy, -and she felt that it would be no easy matter to tear a woman such as -this from a young man’s heart. - -The girl bore Mrs Abbot’s offensive glance bravely. She returned her -bow, and without embarrassment, begged her to be seated. Then she -waited for her visitor to explain the object of her call. - -‘You do not know who I am, I suppose?’ said Mrs Abbot after a pause. - -‘I have the pleasure of knowing Mrs Abbot by sight,’ replied Millicent -in a perfectly calm voice. - -‘Then you know why I have called upon you?’ - -The girl made no reply. - -Mrs Abbot continued, with unmistakable scorn in her voice: ‘I have -called to see the young lady whom my son tells me he is resolved, -against his parents’ wish, to make his wife.’ - -‘I am sorry, Mrs Abbot, you should have thought it needful to call and -tell me this.’ - -‘How could you expect otherwise? Frank Abbot bears one of the oldest -names, and is heir to one of the best estates in the county. When he -marries, he must marry a wife in his own position. What has Miss Keene -to offer in exchange for what he can bestow?’ - -The girl’s pale face flushed; but her brave brown eyes met those of her -interrogator without flinching. ‘If I thought you would understand me, -Mrs Abbot, I should say that I have a woman’s true love to give him, -and that is enough. He sought me, and won that love. He asked for it, -and I gave it. I can say no more.’ - -‘In these days,’ said Mrs Abbot contemptuously, ‘persons in our station -require more than love—_that_, a young man like Frank can always have -for the asking.—Of what family are you, Miss Keene?’ - -‘Of none. My father was a tradesman. He was unfortunate in his -business, and has been many years abroad trying to redeem his fortunes. -With the exception of an education which, I fear, has cost my poor -father many privations, I have nothing to boast of. I live with an -aunt, who has a small income of her own.—Now you know my history.’ - -Mrs Abbot had soon seen that crushing tactics failed to meet the -exigencies of the case. She put on an appearance of frankness. ‘You are -candid with me, Miss Keene, and it appears to me you have plenty of -common-sense. I put it to you; do you think that Mr Abbot or myself can -lend our sanction to this ill-advised affair?’ - -The girl’s lip curled in a manner which was particularly galling to Mrs -Abbot. A tradesman’s daughter, whose proper place was behind a counter, -had no right to be able to assume such an expression! ‘That was for -Frank, not for me, to consider, Mrs Abbot.’ - -‘But surely you will not marry him against our wishes?’ - -The girl was silent for a minute. An answer to such a question -required consideration. ‘Not yet,’ she said. ‘We are both too young. -But if, in after-years, Frank Abbot wishes me to be his wife, I -will share his lot, let it be high or low.’ She spoke proudly and -decisively, as one who felt that her love was well worth having, and -would make up for much that a man might be called on to resign in order -to enjoy it. - -It was this independence, the value the tradesman’s daughter set upon -herself, that annoyed Mrs Abbot, and led her into the mistake of firing -her last and, as she hoped, fatal shot. ‘You are not perhaps aware,’ -she said, ‘that the estate is unentailed?’ - -Millicent, who did not at once catch the drift of her words, looked -inquiringly. - -‘I mean,’ explained Mrs Abbot, ‘that my husband may leave it to whom he -likes—that if you marry my son, you will marry a beggar.’ - -The girl rose. With all her practice, Mrs Abbot herself could not have -spoken or looked more scornfully. ‘How little you know me, madam, to -insult me like that! Have you so poor an opinion of your son as to -fancy I cannot love him for himself? Did you marry Mr Abbot for his -wealth?’—Mrs Abbot winced mentally at the question.—‘Do you think I -wish to marry Francis Abbot only for the position I shall gain? You are -wrong—utterly wrong!’ - -‘Then,’ said Mrs Abbot with the bitterness of defeat, ‘I suppose you -will persist in this foolish engagement, and the only chance I have is -an appeal to my son?’ - -‘I have promised to be his wife. He alone shall release me from that -promise. But it may be long before he can claim it, and so your anxiety -may rest for some time, Mrs Abbot. I have this morning received a -letter from my father. He wishes me to join him in Australia. Next -month, I shall sail, and it will probably be three or four years before -I return. Then, if Frank wishes me to be his wife—if he says to me: “I -will risk loss of lands and love of parents for your sake,” I will bid -him take me, and carve out a way in the world for himself.’ - -A weight was lifted from Mrs Abbot’s mind. She caught the situation at -once. Three or four years’ separation! What might not happen! Although -she strove to speak calmly as a great lady should, she could not keep a -certain eagerness out of her voice. ‘But will you not correspond during -that time?’ - -This was another important question. Again Millicent paused, and -considered her answer. ‘I will neither write nor be written to. If, -eventually, I marry your son—if his love can stand the test of absence -and silence—at least you shall not say I did not give him every -opportunity of terminating our engagement.’ - -Mrs Abbot rose and assumed a pleasant manner—so pleasant that, -considering the respective positions of herself and Miss Keene, it -should have been irresistible. ‘I am compelled to say that such a -decision is all I could expect. You must forgive me if, with my views -for my son’s career, I have said anything hasty or unjust. I will -now wish you good-morning; and I am sure, had we met under other -circumstances, we might have been great friends.’ - -Whatever of dignity and majesty Mrs Abbot dropped as she put on this -appearance of friendliness was taken up by the girl. She took no notice -of her visitor’s outstretched hand. She rang the bell for the servant, -and bowed coldly and haughtily as Mrs Abbot swept from the room. - -But bravely as she had borne herself under the eyes of her inquisitor, -when the rumble of the carriage wheels died away from the quiet street, -Millicent Keene threw herself on the sofa and burst into a flood of -tears. ‘O my love!’ she sobbed out. ‘It is hard; but it is right. It -will never be, I know! It is too long—too long to wait and hope. Can -you be true, when everything is brought to bear against me? Will you -forget? Will the love of to-day seem but a boy’s idle dream? Shall _I_ -ever forget?’ - - - - -EPISODES OF LITERARY MANUSCRIPTS. - - -A great deal might be said on the subject of manuscripts. From the -carefully illuminated specimens of old, preserved in our public -museums, down to the hastily scribbled printer’s ‘copy’ of to-day, -each bears a history, and could contribute to unfold some portion of -the life of the author whose hand had wrought it. Indeed, were it -possible for each written sheet to tell its own story—we here refer -to manuscripts of more modern date—what a picture of intellectual -endurance, disappointments, poverty, and ofttimes despair, would be -brought to light; what tales of huntings amongst publishers, rebuffs -encountered, and hardships undergone, would be added to literary -biography. - -Thackeray has himself told us how his _Vanity Fair_ was hawked about -from publisher to publisher, and its failure everywhere predicted. For -a long period, Charlotte Brontë’s _Jane Eyre_ shared the same fate. -Again, Mr Kinglake’s carefully composed _Eothen_, the labour of several -years, was destined to go the weary round of publishers in vain; and -it was only when its author induced one of that cautious fraternity to -accept the classic little work as a present, that he at length enjoyed -the gratification of seeing it in print. The first chapter of _The -Diary of a Late Physician_ was offered successively to the conductors -of the three leading London magazines, and rejected as ‘unsuitable to -their pages,’ and ‘not likely to interest the public,’ until Mr Warren, -then a young man of three-and-twenty, and a law student, bethought -himself of _Blackwood_. ‘I remember taking my packet,’ he says, ‘to Mr -Cadell’s in the Strand, with a sad suspicion that I should never see -or hear anything more of it; but shortly after, I received a letter -from Mr Blackwood, informing me that he had inserted the chapter, and -begging me to make arrangements for immediately proceeding regularly -with the series. He expressed his cordial approval of that portion, and -predicted that I was likely to produce a series of papers well suited -to his magazine, and calculated to interest the public.’ - -Turning now for a moment to the disciples of dramatic authorship, we -discover that their experience is similar to that of many authors. -Poor Tom Robertson—that indefatigable actor and dramatist—sank into -his grave almost before he saw the establishment of his fame; and -John Baldwin Buckstone, during his struggling career, was in the habit -of pawning his manuscripts with Mr Lacy, the theatrical publisher, in -order to procure bread. Upon one occasion, when met by a sympathising -actor in the street, he appeared with scarcely a shoe to his feet, and -almost broken-hearted, declaring that all his earthly anticipations -were centred upon the acceptance of a comedy, the rejection of which -would certainly prove fatal to his existence. In the end, happily for -him, the comedy was accepted. - -The following anecdote is connected with the history of the Odéon, -one of the first theatres in Paris. One day a young author came to -ascertain the fate of his piece, which, by the way, had appeared such -a formidable package upon its receipt, that the secretary was not -possessed of sufficient moral courage to untie the tape that bound -it. ‘It is not written in the style to suit the theatre,’ he replied, -handing back the manuscript. ‘It is not bad, but it is deficient in -interest.’ At this juncture, the young man smiled, and untying the -roll, he displayed some quires of blank paper! Thus convicted, the -secretary shook hands with the aspirant, invited him to dinner, and -shortly afterwards assisted him to a successful _début_ at the Odéon. -Another author once waited upon the popular manager of a London theatre -inquiring the result of the perusal of his manuscript; whereupon the -other, having forgotten all about it, carefully opened a large drawer, -exhibiting a heterogeneous mass of documents, and exclaimed: ‘There! -help yourself. I don’t know exactly which is yours; but you may take -any one of them you like!’ - -In this instance the manager was even more considerate towards the -feelings of an author than that other dramatic demigod who, it is -said, was regularly in receipt of so many new pieces, good, bad, -and indifferent, that he devised an ingenious method of getting rid -of them. During that particular season, the exigencies of the play -required a roll of papers—presumably a will—to be nightly burned in a -candle in full sight of the audience; and in this way he managed to -make room for the numerous manuscripts which young authors only too -eagerly poured in upon him, quite unconscious of their certain fate! - -Indeed, volumes might be written upon the difficulties sometimes -encountered in climbing the literary ladder, and whilst the more -persevering have ultimately achieved the goal of their ambition, -others have been fated to see their writings consigned to oblivion, -and have themselves perhaps sunk into an early grave, consequent upon -the disappointments and privations endured. When the poet Chatterton -was found lying dead in his garret in Brook Street, his manuscripts -had been strewn upon the floor, torn into a thousand pieces. Thus -much good literature has often been lost to posterity. A number of -instances, too, might be cited wherein persons have risen from their -deathbed to destroy their manuscripts, and which task has either proved -so distressing to their sensibilities, or fatiguing to their physical -powers, that they immediately afterwards expired. It is placed upon -record how Colardeau, that elegant versifier of Pope’s Epistle of -Eloisa to Abelard, recollected at the approach of his death that he -had not destroyed what was written of a translation of Tasso; and -unwilling to intrust this delicate office to his friends, he raised -himself from his bed, and dragging his feeble frame to the place where -the manuscript was deposited, with a last effort he consumed it in the -flames. In another example, an author of celebrity directed his papers -to be brought to his bed, and there, the attendant holding a light, he -burned them, smiling as the greedy flames devoured what had been his -work for years. - -Few authors willingly destroy any manuscript that has cost them a -long period of toil and research, though history records numerous -examples where the loss of certain manuscripts has almost proved an -irremediable misfortune to their author. The story of Mr Carlyle -lending the manuscript of the first volume of his _French Revolution_ -to his friend John Stuart Mill, and its accidental destruction by fire, -is well known. A similar disaster once happened to M. Firmin Abauzit, a -philosopher who had applied himself to every branch of human learning, -and to whom the great Newton had remarked, among other compliments: -‘You are worthy to distinguish between Leibnitz and me.’ It happened -on one occasion that he had engaged a fresh female servant, rustic, -simple, and thoughtless, and being left alone in his study for a while, -she declared to herself that she would ‘set his things to rights;’ with -which words she deliberately cleared the table, and swept the whole -of his papers into the fire, thus destroying calculations which had -been the work of upwards of forty years. Without one word, however, -the philosopher calmly recommenced his task, with more pain than can -readily be imagined. Most readers also will remember the similar -misadventure which occurred to Sir Isaac Newton. - -Of manuscripts which have perished through the ignorance or malignancy -of the illiterate, there are numerous instances. The original ‘Magna -Charta,’ with all its appendages of seals and signatures, was one day -discovered, by Sir Robert Cotton, in the hands of his tailor, who with -his shears was already in the act of cutting up into measures that -priceless document, which had been so long given up as for ever lost. -He bought the curiosity for a trifle; and caused it to be preserved, -where it is still to be seen, in the Cottonian Library, with the -marks of dilapidation plainly apparent. The immortal works of Agobart -were found by Papirius Masson in the hands of a bookbinder at Lyons, -the mechanic having long been in the habit of using the manuscript -sheets for the purpose of lining the covers of his books. Similarly, a -stray page of the second decade of Livy was found by a man of letters -concealed under the parchment of his battledore, as he was amusing -himself at that pastime in the country. He at once hastened to the -maker of the battledore; but alas! it was too late—the man had used the -last sheet of the manuscript of Livy about a week before! - -A treatise printed among the works of Barbosa, a bishop of Ugento, in -1649, fell into the possession of that worthy, it is said, in a rather -singular manner. Having sent out for a fish for his table, his domestic -brought him one rolled up in a piece of written paper, which excited -the bishop’s curiosity so much, that he forthwith rushed out to the -market, just in time to discover and rescue the original manuscript -from which the leaf had been torn. This work he afterwards published -under the title of _De Officio Episcopi_. - -The manuscripts of Leonardo da Vinci suffered greatly from the -wilful ignorance of his relatives. Once, when a curious collector of -antiquities chanced to discover a portion of his writings by the merest -accident, he eagerly carried them to one of the descendants of the -great painter; but the man coldly observed that ‘he had a great deal -more in his garret, which had lain there for many years, if the rats -had not destroyed them.’ - -Cardinal Granville was in the habit of preserving his letters, and -at his death, he left behind him a prodigious number, written in all -languages, and duly noted, underlined, and collated by his own hand. -These relics were left in several immense chests, to the mercy of time -and the rats; and subsequently, five or six of the chestsful were sold -to the grocers as waste paper. It was then that an examination of the -treasure was made; and as the result of the united labours of several -literary men, enough of the papers to fill eight thick folios were -rescued, and afterwards published. - -Fire and shipwreck have at various periods caused considerable havoc -among manuscripts. Many of our oldest Anglo-Saxon manuscripts were -consumed some years ago by a fire in the Cottonian Library; and those -which remain present a baked and shrivelled appearance, rendering them -almost unrecognisable. Ben Jonson on one occasion sustained the loss -of the labours of twenty-one years within one short hour, by fire; and -Meninsky’s famous Persian Dictionary met with a like fate from the -effects of a bomb falling upon the roof of his house during the siege -of Vienna by the Turks. - -National libraries have occasionally been lost at sea. In the -beginning of last century, a wealthy burgomaster of Middelburg, in -the Netherlands, named Hudde, actuated solely by literary curiosity, -made a journey to China; and after travelling through the whole of the -provinces, he set sail for Europe, laden with a manuscript collection -of his observations, the labour of thirty years, the whole of which -was sunk in the ocean. Again, Guarino Verenese, one of those learned -Italians who volunteered to travel through Greece for the recovery of -ancient manuscripts, had his perseverance repaid by the acquisition -of many priceless treasures. Returning to Italy, however, he was -shipwrecked; and such was his grief at the loss of this collection, -that his hair became suddenly white. - -Differing from those authors who have destroyed their manuscripts -before death, are those who have delivered them into the hands of -relatives and friends, together with the fullest instructions as to -their disposal. It is well known that Lord Byron handed the manuscript -of his autobiography to Tom Moore, with the strictest injunctions not -to publish it till after his death. Immediately after he expired, Moore -sold the manuscript to John Murray the publisher for two thousand -pounds; but subsequently knowing something of the nature of the -autobiography, and the effect which its publication would exert upon -the memory of the deceased author, his own better feelings, united to -the persuasions of Byron’s friends, prompted him to regain possession -of the document, which he did, at the same time refunding the money to -Mr Murray. The manuscript was then burned. - -In the matter of the manuscripts of musical works, it may be related -that shortly after Handel had settled at Hamburg in the capacity of -conductor of the opera in that city, he cultivated the acquaintance -of a well-known musician named Mattheson, and the two became great -friends. But presently a quarrel arose between them, the result of -which was that they drew their swords; and Mattheson’s weapon might in -all probability have dealt fatally with the other’s life, had it not -chanced to strike and break upon the score of _Almira_, Handel’s first -opera, which he had hurriedly stowed beneath his coat, and over which, -it is said, the quarrel had really arisen. After this, the combatants -became reconciled, and Mattheson eventually bore the principal -character in the opera when it was produced. - -Returning to literature, it is perhaps not generally known that Swift’s -_Tale of a Tub_ was introduced to the world with such cunning secrecy, -that the manuscript was actually thrown from a passing coach into the -doorway of the bookseller who afterwards published it. _Gulliver’s -Travels_ was given to the public in the same mysterious manner. From -one of Swift’s letters to Pope, as well as from another epistle to -Dr T. Sheridan, we learn that during the time occupied in finishing, -revising, and transcribing his manuscript, prior to thinking about a -fitting bookseller to publish it, Tickell, then Secretary of State, -expressed a strong curiosity to see the work concerning which there -was so much secrecy. But the Dean frankly replied that it would be -quite impossible for Mr Tickell to find his ‘treasury of _waste-papers_ -without searching through nine different houses,’ inasmuch as he had -his manuscripts conveyed from place to place through nine or ten -different hands; and then it would be necessary to send to him for a -key to the work, else he could not understand a chapter of it. In the -end, _Gulliver_ came forth from its hiding-place through the medium -of Mr Charles Ford, who offered to carry the manuscript to Mr Motte -the bookseller, on behalf of his friend, and to whom he afterwards -complained that the man’s timidity was such as to compel him to make -some important abridgments throughout the work. The book was, however, -no sooner published, than it was received with unlimited acclamation by -all classes. - -Of Defoe’s world-famous _Robinson Crusoe_, published in 1719, we are -told that it was only taken up by Taylor—who purchased the manuscript, -and netted one thousand pounds by the publication—after every other -bookseller in town had refused it. In a similar manner, one bookseller -refused to give twenty-five pounds for the manuscript of Fielding’s -_Tom Jones_; while another bought it, and cleared not less than -eighteen thousand pounds by the venture during his lifetime! - -With a few particulars touching upon the value of manuscripts which -have at various periods been put up for public sale after the death of -their authors, we will bring our paper to a conclusion. - -When, some years ago, the manuscript of Scott’s _Guy Mannering_ -came into the market, the United States gladly secured the precious -treasure at a cost of three hundred and eighty guineas; and in 1867, -at a sale of the manuscripts which had belonged to Mr Cadell the -well-known publisher, the _Lady of the Lake_ was sold for two hundred -and seventy-seven guineas, and _Rokeby_ realised one hundred and -thirty-six guineas, both becoming the property of Mr Hope-Scott. At -the same sale, Sir William Fraser paid two hundred guineas for the -manuscript of _Marmion_; whilst the same appreciative collector of -literary antiquities paid, in 1875, so high a price as two hundred and -fifty guineas for Gray’s _Elegy in a Country Churchyard_, a composition -occupying no more than four quarto sheets of manuscript. - -Of Charles Dickens’s manuscripts, _The Christmas Carol_ was purchased -by Mr Harvey of St James’s Street for the sum of one hundred and fifty -pounds, and resold by him for two hundred and fifty pounds; _The Battle -of Life_ is still held on sale by that gentleman; and _Our Mutual -Friend_ was purchased, on behalf of Mr George Washington Childs of -Philadelphia, by Mr Hotten, for two hundred pounds. As is well known, -the manuscript of _The Pickwick Papers_ was bequeathed by Mr Forster -to the South Kensington Museum, and will become the property of the -British nation on the death of his widow, who has meanwhile, and in -the most generous manner, permitted it and other manuscripts from the -pen of Charles Dickens to be publicly exhibited where they will become -permanently enshrined. - -Not very long ago, the manuscript of a short poem by Burns brought -seventy guineas; yet this sum must be regarded as but a small -proportion of that value which might be realised for only one -line—not to speak of one play—written by Shakspeare’s own hand. In -his _Memorials of Westminster Abbey_, the late Dean Stanley has told -us how Spenser the poet died in King Street, Westminster, and was -solemnly interred in Poets’ Corner, hard by. ‘His hearse,’ he says, -‘was attended by poets; and mournful elegies, together with the pens -that wrote them, were thrown into his tomb. What a funeral was that at -which Beaumont, Fletcher, Jonson, and, in all probability, Shakspeare -attended! what a grave in which the pen of Shakspeare may be mouldering -away!’ Certainly, if but one line of that ‘mournful elegy’ written -by the Immortal Bard could be recovered and offered for sale, we -should then have a pleasing and memorable opportunity of marking the -estimation in which the poet is held by mankind. - - - - -ANIMAL MEMORIALS AND MEMENTOES. - - -Commenting on the honour paid by the Athenians to a dog that followed -his master across the sea to Salamis, Pope says: ‘This respect to a dog -in the most polite people of the world is very observable. A modern -instance of gratitude to a dog, though we have but few such, is, that -the chief Order of Denmark—now called the Order of the Elephant—was -instituted in memory of the fidelity of a dog named Wild-brat to one of -their kings, who had been deserted by his subjects. He gave his Order -this motto, or to this effect (which still remains): “Wild-brat was -faithful.”’ - -Had Pope been writing half-a-dozen years later, he need not have -gone to Denmark for a modern instance of gratitude to a dog. Mr -Robert—afterwards Viscount—Molesworth being prevented entering an -outhouse by his favourite greyhound pulling him away by his coat -lappet, ordered a footman to examine the place. On opening the -door, the man was shot dead by a hidden robber. The faithful hound -afterwards died in London, and his master sent his body to Yorkshire, -to be inurned in Edglington Wood, near Doncaster; the receptacle of -his remains bearing an inscription in Latin, which has been thus -translated: ‘Stay, traveller! Nor wonder that a lamented Dog is thus -interred with funeral honour. But, ah! what a Dog! His beautiful form -and snow-white colour; pleasing manners and sportive playfulness; -his affection, obedience, and fidelity, made him the delight of his -master, to whom he closely adhered with his eager companions of the -chase, delighted in attending him. Whenever the mind of his lord was -depressed, he would assume fresh spirit and animation. A master, not -ungrateful for his merits, has here, in tears, deposited his remains in -this marble urn.—M. F. C. 1714.’ - -An Italian greyhound, buried in Earl Temple’s garden at Stowe, had -never saved his master’s life, but was nevertheless held worthy of -a memorial stone, bearing the eulogistic epitaph from the pen of -Arbuthnot: - -‘To the Memory of SIGNOR FIDO—An Italian of good extraction, who came -to England not to bite us, like most of his countrymen, but to gain an -honest livelihood. He hunted not for fame, yet acquired it; regardless -of the praises of his friends, but most sensible of their love. -Though he lived among the Great, he neither learned nor flattered any -vice. He was no bigot, though he doubted of none of the Thirty-nine -Articles. And if to follow Nature and to respect the laws of Society -be philosophical, he was a perfect philosopher, a faithful friend, an -agreeable companion, a loving husband, distinguished by a numerous -offspring, all which he lived to see take good courses. In his old -age, he retired to the home of a clergyman in the country, where he -finished his earthly race, and died an honour and an example to his -species. Reader—This stone is guiltless of flattery, for he to whom it -is inscribed was not a Man, but a Greyhound.’ - -That eulogy is more than could honestly be said of the animal whose -monument proclaims: - - Here lies the body of my dear retriever; - Of his master alone he was ne’er a deceiver; - But the Game-laws he hated, and poached out of bounds— - His spirit now ranges the glad hunting-grounds. - -Not in company, we should say, with that of the blameless creature -commemorated by the couplet: - - Beneath this stone, there lies at rest - BANDY, of all good dogs the best. - -Among the sojourners at the _Grand Hôtel Victoria_, Mentone, in the -year 1872, was the Archduchess Marie Régnier, who, during her three -months’ stay there, took such a liking to mine host’s handsome dog -Pietrino, that she begged him of M. Milandi, and carried her prize -with her to Vienna. In less than a fortnight after reaching that -capital, Pietrino was back in his old quarters again, having travelled -eight hundred miles across strange countries, over mountains, through -towns and villages, only to die at his master’s feet five days after -his coming home. He was buried among the rose-bushes in the grounds -so familiar to him, his resting place marked by a marble column, -inscribed, ‘Ci-gît PIETRINO, Ami Fidèle. 1872.’ - -Exactly a hundred years before that, a dog died at Minorca out of sheer -grief for the loss of his master, who, ordered home to England, did not -care to encumber himself with his canine friend. Honouring the deserted -animal’s unworthily placed affection, his owner’s brother-officers saw -him decently interred, and erected a stone to his memory, bearing an -epitaph written by Lieutenant Erskine, ending: - - His life was shortened by no slothful ease, - Vice-begot care, or folly-bred disease. - Forsook by him he valued more than life, - His generous nature sank beneath the strife. - Left by his master on a foreign shore, - New masters offered—but he owned no more; - The ocean oft with seeming sorrow eyed, - And pierced by man’s ingratitude, he died. - -Of tougher constitution was a small Scotch terrier that, in 1868, -followed his master’s coffin to the churchyard of Old Greyfriars, -Edinburgh, heedless of the notice forbidding entrance to dogs. The -morning after the funeral, Bobby was found lying on the newly-made -mound. He was turned out of the churchyard; but the next morning saw -him upon the grave, and the next and the next. Taking pity upon the -forlorn little creature, the custodian of the burial-ground gave him -some food. From that time, Bobby considered himself privileged, and -was constantly in and about the churchyard, only leaving it at mid-day -to obtain a meal at the expense of a kind-hearted restaurant keeper; -but every night was passed upon the spot holding all he had once held -dear. Many were the attempts to get him to transfer his allegiance -from the dead to the living; but none availed. As long as his life -lasted, and it lasted four years, Bobby stayed by, or in the immediate -neighbourhood of, his master’s grave. Such fidelity, unexampled even -in his faithful race, deserved to be kept in remembrance; and thanks -to the most munificent of Lady Bountifuls, his memory is kept green by -his counterfeit presentment on a drinking-fountain of Peterhead granite -erected on George the Fourth Bridge, as a ‘tribute to the affectionate -fidelity of GREYFRIARS BOBBY. In 1868, the faithful dog followed the -remains of his master to Greyfriars Churchyard, and lingered near the -spot until his death in 1872.’ - -London is not without its memorials to dogs. On the wall leading to -the Irongate Stairs, near the Tower, may be read: ‘In Memory of EGYPT, -a favourite dog belonging to the Irongate Watermen, killed on the 4th -August 1841, aged 16. - - Here lies interred, beneath this spot, - A faithful dog, who should not be forgot. - Full fifteen years he watched here with care, - Contented with hard bed and harder fare. - Around the Tower he daily used to roam - In search of bits so savoury, or a bone. - A military pet he was, and in the Dock, - His rounds he always went at twelve o’clock; - Supplied with cash, which held between his jaws— - The reason’s plain—he had no hands but paws— - He’d trot o’er Tower Hill to a favourite shop, - There eat his meal and down his money drop. - To club he went on each successive night, - Where, dressed in jacket gay, he took his pipe; - With spectacles on nose he played his tricks, - And pawed the paper, not the politics. - Going his usual round, near Traitors’ Gate, - Infirm and almost blind, he met his fate; - By ruthless kick hurled from the wharf, below - The stones on which the gentle Thames does flow, - Mortally injured, soon resigned his breath, - Thus left his friends, who here record his death.’ - -A tablet placed near the north-east end of the platform of the Edgware -Road Railway Station, is inscribed: - - In Memory of - Poor FAN, - Died May 8, 1876. - For ten years at the Drivers’ call. - Fed by many, - Regretted by all. - -Poor Fan lies under an evergreen hard by. She was notable for -travelling continually on a railway engine between the Edgware Road -and Hammersmith; occasionally getting off at an intermediate station, -crossing the line, and returning by the next train; never taking any -train but a Hammersmith train when outward bound, or going farther east -than her own particular station when journeying homewards. - -An Englishman travelling in France in 1698, was disgusted at seeing, -in a ducal garden, a superb memorial in the shape of a black marble -cat couching on a gilded white marble cushion, on the top of a black -marble pedestal bearing the one word ‘MENINE.’ Such posthumous honour -is rarely paid to puss; but two other instances of it may be cited. -In making excavations near the Place de la Bastille, in the ground -formerly occupied by the gardens of the Hôtel de Lesdiguières, the -workmen brought to light the handsome tomb of a cat which had belonged -to Françoise-Marguerite de Gondy, widow of Emmanuel de Crequi, Duke of -Lesdiguières. It bore no laudatory epitaph, but the odd quatrain: - - Cy-gist une chatte jolie. - Sa maitresse, qui n’aima rien, - L’aima jusqu’à la folie. - Pourquoi le dire? On le voit bien. - -Or to put it into English: ‘Here lies a handsome cat. Her mistress, who -loved nothing, loved her out of caprice. Why say so? All the world knew -it well.’ - -‘Grandfather,’ a feline Nestor, belonging to a lady in Scotland, was -something more than handsome. When he had passed his twenty-first year, -he could climb a tree, catch a bird, hunt a mouse, or kill a rat, -as cleverly as in his younger days; and when he died, at the age of -twenty-two, had well earned himself a memorial stone and an epitaph. -Both were accorded him, the last-named running thus: - - ‘Life to the last enjoyed,’ here Pussy lies, - Renowned for mousing and for catching flies; - Loving o’er grass and pliant branch to roam, - Yet ever constant to the smiles of home. - - . . . . . - - The Preux Chevalier of the race of Cats, - He has outlived their customary span, - As Jenkins and Old Parr had that of Man; - And might on tiles have murmured in moonshine - Nestorian tales of youth and Troy divine; - Of rivals fought; of kitten-martyrdoms; - While, meekly listening, round sat Tabs and Toms. - But with the modesty of genuine worth, - He vaunted not his deeds of ancient birth; - His whiskers twitched not, at the world’s applause, - He only yawned, and licked his reverend paws; - Curled round his head his tail, and fell asleep, - Lapped in sweet dreams, and left us here to weep. - Yet pleased to know, that ere he sank to rest, - As far as mortal cats are, he was blest. - -The horse, even though he may have won a fortune for his master, as a -rule goes literally to the dogs at last. Some few of the wonders of -the turf have escaped that indignity. A plain stone inscribed simply -‘SIR PETER,’ tells visitors to Knowsley, Sir Peter Teazle lies beneath -it. A sculptured stone, rifled from a cardinal’s monument, overlooks -the grave of Emilius at Easby Abbey. A cedar, planted by a once famous -jockey, rises hard by the resting-place of Bay-Middleton and Crucifix; -Kingston reposes under the shade of a grand oak at Eltham; Blair-Athol, -the pride of Malton, lies embowered at Cobham; and green is the grave -of Amato, well within hail of the course he traversed triumphantly. -The skeleton of Eclipse is still, we believe, on view at Cannons, -but it must be minus at least one hoof, since King William IV. gave -a piece of plate, with a hoof of Eclipse set in gold, to be run for -at Ascot in 1832; the trophy being carried off by Lord Chesterfield’s -Priam. Equine mementoes usually take this form, and many a sideboard -can show the polished hoof of a famous racehorse. The Prince of Wales -is said to possess a hoof of the charger that bore Nolan to his death -at Balaklava; it is surmounted with a small silver figure of the -Captain, carrying the fatal order for the advance of the Light Brigade. -An interesting military souvenir enough; but not so interesting as a -polished and shod hoof, mounted so as to serve as a snuff-box, the -property of the Guards’ Club; for this bears the inscription: ‘Hoof -of MARENGO, rare charger of Napoleon, ridden by him at Marengo, -Austerlitz, Jena, Wagram, in the campaign of Russia, and lastly at -Waterloo;’ while on the margin of the silver shoe is to be read: -‘Marengo was wounded in the near hip at Waterloo, when his great master -was on him, in the hollow road in advance of the French position. He -had been frequently wounded before in other battles.’ - - - - -SOME FOOD-NOTES. - - -We have received the following notes from a gentleman—an occasional -contributor—who devotes much of his attention to such matters, making -them indeed an especial and constant study. - -_The Antipodean Rabbit Nuisance._—That which for several years past has -been the bane of agriculturists at the antipodes, is not unlikely to -prove in the end something akin to a blessing. Rabbits in many places, -notwithstanding what has been done to exterminate them, are nearly as -numerous as ever; but instead of killing them by means of poison and -burying them in the ground, they are now systematically ‘trapped,’ -and, being cooked and tinned, command a large sale. At the Western -Meat-preserving Company’s Works, Colac, Victoria, as many as seventeen -thousand pairs of rabbits are dealt with in the course of the early -weeks of the season, which, it may be explained, lasts for a period -of seven months; and although the supply diminishes as the season -progresses, over three hundred thousand pairs are annually prepared -for sale, finding a ready market. A large number of persons are -employed during the continuance of this industry; no fewer than three -hundred and fifty people obtaining remunerative work in connection with -this one establishment. On an average, over five thousand two-pound -tins are turned out every day within the period indicated. These are -made up for sale in three different ways—as plain rabbits, as rabbits -cooked with onions, and rabbits done up with bacon; and for each -description there is now setting in a large European demand. Many of -the men engaged in the rabbit-work at Colac are exceedingly dexterous, -and work with great rapidity, some individual hands among them being -able to skin with ease one hundred pairs of rabbits in an hour. In -order to gain a wager, one very expert person skinned four hundred and -twenty-eight of these animals in sixty minutes! It should be mentioned, -that before being skinned, the heads and feet of the conies are chopped -off. Work of every kind is performed by the most cleanly methods, and -only the best animals are selected to be tinned, while none are sent -out without being carefully examined. The trappers are paid by results, -and are, as a rule, welcome to visit those farms which are overrun -with the pest. In the earlier weeks of the season, a gang of expert -trappers will each earn over five pounds a week. The rabbits as they -are caught are slung across poles in convenient places, and then lifted -and conveyed in carts to ‘the works.’ There are several establishments -of the kind in Victoria, and hopes are now being entertained by farmers -of a speedy deliverance from the rabbit nuisance, as the large numbers -which are being killed must in time tell on the breeding supplies. -Similar establishments are also about to be started in New Zealand. - -_Edible Snails._—None but those who have made special inquiry into -the subject are aware of the great dimensions which the continental -snail-trade has of late assumed. Many tons of these vine-fed delicacies -reach Paris every year during the snail season, which lasts from -September to about April, during some part of which period under -natural circumstances the animals would be asleep. In this country -there would be a universal shudder, if it were proposed to add the -common garden-snail to the national commissariat, no matter how -attractive might be the shape assumed by the _Escargot de Bourgogne_, -or other snail of the orchard or vineyard; yet we eat countless -quantities of whelks and periwinkles, which are not such clean-feeding -animals as the snails of the garden. A recent authority states that -enormous quantities of snails are forwarded annually from Marseilles -and Genoa to Paris, and that tens of thousands of these creatures -find their way to the markets of Bordeaux, Lyons, Vienna, and Munich. -Such is the demand, that many persons now ‘cultivate’ snails for the -markets, and find the business a remunerative one. As many as twenty or -thirty thousand can be bred in a very small space. - -_The Conger Eel._—This fish has of late attracted a good deal of -attention, from its having been asserted that it was frequently made -into turtle-soup. Whether that be so or not, the conger eel is in -reality one of our most valuable food-fishes. There is, unfortunately, -a prejudice in the public mind against it. In all continental -fish-markets—at least in those situated on seas which contain the -fish—a plentiful supply of congers may always be had. The writer has -seen hundreds of them in the markets at Dieppe, Boulogne, and Paris, -and in the _cuisine_ of France the conger occupies a prominent place. -It can be converted into excellent soup, and may be cooked in various -other palatable ways: it may be roasted, stewed, or broiled, or made -into a succulent pie. In Guernsey and Jersey, its flesh is highly -esteemed, as being adaptable to the culinary art in an eminent degree. -This fish ought to be much more plentifully exposed for sale than it -is; and if our fishermen found a market for it, it would no doubt -be so. It is a most prolific animal, yielding its eggs in literal -millions. A specimen which weighed twenty-eight pounds possessed a roe -of the weight of twenty-three ounces, which was computed to contain the -almost incredible number of fifteen millions of eggs! Mr Buckland, in -one of his fishery Reports, says: ‘What becomes of this enormous number -of eggs, is unknown to man; they probably form the food of many small -sea-creatures, especially crabs. They are exceedingly minute.’ How -curious it seems that the common herring, which yields on the average -about thirty thousand ova, should be so plentiful, and the conger, -which contains many millions of eggs, should be comparatively so scarce. - - - - -SERENADE. - - - Sweet maiden, awake - From the region of sleep, - Alone for thy sake - Here my vigil I keep; - The moon rides on high, - The stars shine above, - Yet sleepless am I - By the charm of thy love. - - All nature reposes: - The sun is at rest, - Fast shut are the roses, - Each bird in its nest; - The air is unstirred - By the drone of the bee, - Safe penned is each herd— - And my thoughts are of thee. - - Oh, what is dull Time - In true love’s estimation? - Who measures each chime, - In its rapt contemplation? - Immortal in birth, - It descends from above, - And raises from earth - The frail creatures who love. - - Oh, spurn me not, maiden! - Dismiss me not home, - With misery laden - Henceforward to roam; - By the spell of thy power, - Which has fettered the free, - Creation’s sweet flower, - Bend thy fragrance to me! - - ALBERT E. STEMBRIDGE. - - * * * * * - -Printed and Published by W. & R. CHAMBERS, 47 Paternoster Row, LONDON, -and 339 High Street, EDINBURGH. - - * * * * * - -_All Rights Reserved._ - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHAMBERS'S JOURNAL OF POPULAR -LITERATURE, SCIENCE, AND ART, FIFTH SERIES, NO. 18, VOL. I, MAY 3, 1884 *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for -copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very -easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation -of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project -Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may -do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected -by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark -license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country other than the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the - United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where - you are located before using this eBook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm website -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that: - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of -the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the Foundation as set -forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, -Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up -to date contact information can be found at the Foundation's website -and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without -widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our website which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This website includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/65594-0.zip b/old/65594-0.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index f28e69a..0000000 --- a/old/65594-0.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/65594-h.zip b/old/65594-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 8d552b0..0000000 --- a/old/65594-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/65594-h/65594-h.htm b/old/65594-h/65594-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 6404c72..0000000 --- a/old/65594-h/65594-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,3161 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> - <title> - Chambers’s Journal, by Various—A Project Gutenberg eBook - </title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - <style type="text/css"> - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - - h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; -} - -.ph3{ - text-align: center; - font-size: large; - font-weight: bold; -} - -p { - margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; -} - -hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both; -} - -hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} -hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} -@media print { hr.chap {display: none; visibility: hidden;} } -hr.full {width: 95%; margin-left: 2.5%; margin-right: 2.5%;} - - -.header {text-align: center; margin-top: 0;} -.header p {text-align: center; text-indent: 0;} -.header .floatl {float: left;} -.header .floatr {float: right;} -.header .floatc {padding-top: .5em;} - -@media handheld -{ -.header {text-align: center; margin-top: 0;} -.header p {text-align: center; text-indent: 0;} -.header .floatl {float: left;} -.header .floatr {float: right;} -.header .floatc {padding-top: .5em;} -} - - -div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} -h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} - -.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ - /* visibility: hidden; */ - position: absolute; - left: 92%; - font-size: smaller; - text-align: right; - font-style: normal; - font-weight: normal; - font-variant: normal; -} /* page numbers */ - -.center {text-align: center;} - -.right {text-align: right;} - -.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} - -/* Images */ - -img { - max-width: 100%; - height: auto; -} -img.w100 {width: 100%;} - - -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; - page-break-inside: avoid; - max-width: 100%; -} - -/* Poetry */ -.poetry-container {text-align: center;} -.poetry {text-align: left; margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%;} -/* uncomment the next line for centered poetry in browsers */ - .poetry {display: inline-block;} -.poetry .stanza {margin: 1em auto;} -.poetry .verse {text-indent: -3em; padding-left: 3em;} -/* large inline blocks don't split well on paged devices */ -@media print { .poetry {display: block;} } -.x-ebookmaker .poetry {display: block;} - -/* Poetry indents */ -.poetry .indent0 {text-indent: -3em;} -.poetry .indent2 {text-indent: -2em;} -.poetry .indent7 {text-indent: 0.5em;} - - - </style> - </head> -<body> - -<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Chambers's Journal of Popular Literature, Science, and Art, Fifth Series, No. 18, Vol. I, May 3, 1884, by Various</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world 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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Chambers's Journal of Popular Literature, Science, and Art, Fifth Series, No. 18, Vol. I, May 3, 1884</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Editor: Various</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: June 11, 2021 [eBook #65594]</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Susan Skinner, Eric Hutton and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)</div> - -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHAMBERS'S JOURNAL OF POPULAR LITERATURE, SCIENCE, AND ART, FIFTH SERIES, NO. 18, VOL. I, MAY 3, 1884 ***</div> -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_273">{273}</span></p> - - -<h1>CHAMBERS’S JOURNAL<br /> -OF<br /> -POPULAR<br /> -LITERATURE, SCIENCE, AND ART.</h1> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak">CONTENTS</h2> -</div> - -<p class='center'> - - -<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. --> - -<a href="#NORFOLK_BROADS_AND_RIVERS">NORFOLK BROADS AND RIVERS.</a><br /> -<a href="#BY_MEAD_AND_STREAM">BY MEAD AND STREAM.</a><br /> -<a href="#QUEER_LODGERS">QUEER LODGERS.</a><br /> -<a href="#CHEWTON-ABBOT">CHEWTON-ABBOT.</a><br /> -<a href="#EPISODES_OF_LITERARY_MANUSCRIPTS">EPISODES OF LITERARY MANUSCRIPTS.</a><br /> -<a href="#ANIMAL_MEMORIALS_AND_MEMENTOES">ANIMAL MEMORIALS AND MEMENTOES.</a><br /> -<a href="#SOME_FOOD-NOTES">SOME FOOD-NOTES.</a><br /> -<a href="#SERENADE">SERENADE.</a><br /> - -<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. --> - -</p> - -<hr class="full" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="figcenter w100" id="header" style="max-width: 43.75em;"> - <img class="w100" src="images/header.jpg" alt="Chambers’s Journal of Popular Literature, Science, -and Art. Fifth Series. Established by William and Robert Chambers, 1832. Conducted by R. Chambers (Secundus)." /> -</div> - - -<hr class="full" /> -<div class="center"> -<div class="header"> -<p class="floatl"><span class="smcap">No. 18.—Vol. I.</span></p> -<p class="floatr"><span class="smcap">Price</span> 1½<em>d.</em></p> -<p class="floatc">SATURDAY, MAY 3, 1884.</p> -</div></div></div> - -<hr class="full" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="NORFOLK_BROADS_AND_RIVERS">NORFOLK BROADS AND RIVERS.</h2> -</div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">To</span> many, the wild solitudes of marsh and mere, -the rivers and ‘broads’ of Norfolk, are almost as -entirely unknown as the arid solitudes of the -unexplored Australian deserts. Yet there are -few spots where the holiday-seeker can find more -easily and cheaply relaxation and enjoyment than -in these vast reedy wildernesses of East Anglia. -Mr G. Christopher Davies, in his interesting -book, <i>Norfolk Broads and Rivers</i> (Blackwood and -Sons), paints in a graphic manner the engrossing -charm of these placid inland seas, with their -reedy margins shimmering softly green in the -gray morning mists, or flushing into warm tints -of beauty beneath the smile of sunset. A stranger -is apt to fancy that marsh scenery is uninteresting; -but the very reverse is the case; it has a -beauty of its own, which is seldom even monotonous, -so incessant is the play of sunshine and -shadow over the wide sedgy flats and shallows. -The marsh vegetation is luxuriant, even tropical -in some of the more sheltered nooks among the -reeds; grasses are abundant, and so are flowers, -which often grow in broad patches, and warm -with vivid gleams of colour the low-toned landscape. -In May and June, the banks are gay with -the vivid gold of the yellow iris and marsh -buttercup; then come the crimson glow of the -ragged-robin, the delicate blue of the forget-me-not, -the deep purple flush of the loosestrife, and -the creamy white of the water-lilies, which spread -till they almost cover the shallow bays with their -broad glossy leaves and shining cups of white -and gold.</p> - -<p>The reedy capes and bays, the sedgy islets, -with the green park lands and wooded glades -beyond, give an irresistible charm to these broads, -which is enhanced by the soft stillness of their -utter solitude and loneliness. The passing clouds -and rising wind give a certain motion and variety -to the great marsh plain; but nothing speaks of -the busy world beyond save the white sail of a -solitary yacht, or the rich red-brown canvas of -a gliding wherry; and not a sound falls on the -listening ear except the monotonous measured -plash of the oars or the wild scream of the startled -waterfowl. These wide watery plains, interesting -at all seasons, are often extremely beautiful at -sunrise and sunset. Then gorgeous sky-tints of -gold and crimson are flashed back from the wide -mirror-like expanse of the still lagoons with a -vivid glow of colouring which is almost painful -in its intensity. The great forests of reeds gleam -like bundles of spears tipped with lambent flame, -and the patches of feathery grasses and flowers -are lit up with weird glimmers of rose-red and -gold, glorious but evanescent. Light gray mists -float up from the marshy hollows, mellowing the -sunset glow with an indistinct quivering haze, -which, mirage-like, cheats the wondering gazer -with visions of ships and islands and wooded -knolls, which he will search for in vain on the -morrow.</p> - -<p>A ‘broad’ is a term peculiar to Norfolk; it -means the broadening out of the rivers into lakes, -which is very common all over the marsh district. -These broads abound in fish, and afford capital -sport to the angler. Bream and roach are -abundant; and carp, although not so plentiful, -are to be found, and grow to a large size. The -rudd, or red-eye, a beautiful active fish, is very -abundant; and few things are more enjoyable, -when the weather is good and the fish rise easily, -than a day’s rudd-fishing on the broads. The -paying fish of these marsh meres are, however, -the pike and eel; and a great number of fishermen -live by eel-fishing. Eels are netted, speared, and -caught in eel-pots; and after a flood, when eels -are what is called ‘on the move,’ a single fisherman -will often catch as many as four or five -stone-weight in a night.</p> - -<p>The pike is, however, Mr Davies says, ‘the -monarch of the Norfolk waters, and at one time -was supremely abundant; but the natives harried -him to their utmost.’ The best way to enjoy -pike-fishing and the scenery of the broads is to -take an excursion for a few days in a small -yacht, either alone or with a companion. Human -habitations are few and far between on the banks<span class="pagenum" id="Page_274">{274}</span> -of the sluggish rivers; but every now and -then one comes upon a cluster of picturesque -old-world buildings, or an ancient primitive village, -with small houses furnished with quaint -dormer windows and fantastic gables, and here -and there a gray old church, finely set down on -a rising ground amid a clump of ancient spreading -elms. Beyond the broad belt of reeds that fringe -the water are green meadows, dotted with red-and-white -cattle, whose effect from an artistic -point of view is very good, but from an angler’s -standpoint is sometimes rather trying, as there -is generally a bull, and as often as not he is a -vicious and combative specimen of the bovine -tribe. On this red-letter day, however, even -the inevitable bull was quiet, and our author -was left undisturbed to thread his way, on a soft -warm afternoon, through the glowing beauties of -an October landscape. In the marshes, all the -seasons have their peculiar glory; but the autumnal -colouring stands out with a vivid distinctness -unknown elsewhere. Beyond the screen of reeds, -a belt of wood fringes the river-bank—beech, -alder, and elm, each tree glowing with its own -autumnal tint of red or yellow or russet brown.</p> - -<p>Mr Davies, who had seldom the luck to go -a-fishing when pike were on the move, had two -special pools in view, on one or both of which -he relied to fill his basket. Around the first of -these the margin was very soft and wet, and he -was daintily picking his steps from one tussock -of grass to another, when whiz went a wild-duck -from the sedges, and in a moment he was -floundering up to the knees in mud. There were, -however, pike in the pool when he reached it—great -sluggish beauties, lazily lying under the -gleaming, swaying leaves of the water-lilies. For -once, he was in luck, to use his own words: ‘As -our bait traversed the deep back-water, we felt -the indescribable thrill, or rather shock, which -proceeds from a decided run, and a three-pound -pike fights as gamely as a ten-pounder.’ The -small fish caught, he trudged on in the waning -afternoon sunshine to the second pool; startling -a kingfisher, which flashed out of the reeds behind -him like a veritable gem of living colour. The -second pool was closely fringed with trees and -bushes, the dusk-red gold of whose leaves was -mirrored in its placid depths; while every few -minutes a crisp leaf-hail dropped in the level -sunshine like Danaë’s fabled showers of gold. -Pike, however, and not artistic effects, were for -the moment in our author’s eye, and pike he -was sure there were, lurking under the mass of -leaves which covered the gleaming waters of the -pool. ‘Seizing the exact moment when there was -a clear track across the leaf-strewn water, we cast -our bait, and worked it with every sense agog -with expectation. Ah! there is a welcome check -at last. We strike hard, and find that we are -fast in a good-sized fish.’ Up and down, round -and round, he goes, floundering wildly about, now -in one direction, now in another. There is a -pause of excited uncertainty, during which the -line becomes heavily clogged with leaves. To -have, or not to have, the scaly monarch of the -silent pool? that is the question. It was ticklish -work for a few minutes; but at last he turned -suddenly on his side, and was towed into the -shallow below, and landed in triumph.</p> - -<p>Pike in these broads sometimes attain a great -size, and have been taken weighing between thirty -and forty pounds. The reeds, which with their -bright green and purple fringes form such a -prominent feature in the marsh scenery, are yearly -cut and gathered, and are a really valuable crop. -They are used for thatching, making fences, and -supporting plaster-work. Whittlesea Mere, before -it was drained, produced annually a thousand -bundles of reeds, which were sold at one pound -per bundle. The men forsake all their other -avocations to join in the reed-harvest, which -yields them while it lasts very good wages.</p> - -<p>On some of the broads there is still to be seen -an industry fast falling into decay—decoys with -decoy ducks and dogs. These require to be -worked with the utmost silence and caution. -One winter-night in 1881 Mr Davies inspected -in company with the keeper the decoy at Fritton -Broad. The night was cold and dark, and each -of the men had to carry a piece of smouldering -turf in his hand to destroy the human scent, -which would otherwise have alarmed the wary -ducks. This made their eyes water; and the -decoy-dog, a large red retriever, being in high -spirits, insisted on tripping them up repeatedly, -as they crawled along in the darkness bent almost -double. The interest of the sight, however, when -at length they reached the decoy, fully made up -for these petty discomforts. Peeping through an -eyehole, a flock of teal were to be seen paddling -about quite close to them; while beyond these -were several decoy-ducks, and beyond these again -a large flock of mallards. The decoy-ducks are -trained to come for food whenever they see the -dog or hear a whistle from the decoy-man. The -dog now showed himself obedient to a sign from -his master, and in an instant every head among -the teal was up, and every bright shy eye -twinkling with pleased curiosity. Impelled by -curiosity, they slowly swim towards the dog, -which, slowly retiring, leads them towards the -mouth of the decoy-pipe, showing himself at -intervals till they were well within it. The -keeper then ran silently to the mouth of the -pipe, and waving his handkerchief, forced them, -frightened and reluctant, to flutter forward into -the tunnel. He then detached a hoop from the -grooves, gave it a twist, and secured them by -cutting off their return. This seemed the last -act of the drama, and Mr Davies took the opportunity -to straighten his back, which was aching -dreadfully, ‘immediately there was a rush of -wings, and the flock of mallards left the decoy. -“There, now, you ha’ done it!” exclaimed the -keeper excitedly. “All them mallards were -following the dog into the pipe, and we could -ha’ got a second lot.” We expressed our sorrow -in becoming terms, and watched the very expeditious -way in which he extracted the birds from -the tunnel net, wrung their necks, and flung -them into a heap.’ Few places now are suitable -for decoys, for even life in the marshes is not so -quiet as it used to be.</p> - -<p>In all these broads and meres and the rivers -which intersect them, bird-life abounds, and an -almost incredible number of eggs are collected -for the market, every egg which resembles a -plover’s being collected and sold as such. Of the -bird-dwellers in the marshes, herons are the most -conspicuous; bitterns were also once common, -but there are now few of them, and their singular<span class="pagenum" id="Page_275">{275}</span> -booming cry is but seldom heard. The great -crested grebe is still plentiful; but the ruff, which -was once very abundant, is now seldom seen. -Of the smaller birds, the graceful bearded tit has -become very rare; but willow-wrens and reed-buntings, -jays, and cuckoos and king-fishers -find their respective habitats.</p> - -<p>There are swans to be found all over the broads, -particularly on the river Yare; but they are not -plentiful anywhere. A pair take possession of -a particular portion of the river, and defend their -proprietary rights in it with the utmost fierceness. -They will not suffer the intrusion of any other -swans, and will very often attack human beings, -if they see any reasonable prospect of success. -‘A swan will not exactly attack a wherry or -even a pleasure-boat; but a canoe comes within -his capacity; and once while rowing down -the river Yare in our small canvas jolly-boat, a -cock-swan chased us for half a mile, and threatened -every moment to drive his beak through the -canvas.’</p> - -<p>The appearance of the country around these -broads has changed very much during the last -half-century, and this change is still going on. -Wherever it seems possible, drainage-works are -attempted and carried out; and acres upon acres -of valuable meadow-land have been and are in -process of being reclaimed from the marsh. Some -of these flat green meadows, which a century back -were sodden quagmires covered with stagnant -water, now pasture large herds of cattle, and are -let at four pounds an acre for grazing purposes. -At the outlet of the drains into the river, drainage -windmills are erected of every size and shape, -from the brick tower to the skeleton wooden -erection painted a brilliant red or green. These -windmills form a striking and picturesque addition -to the background of a marsh picture, but, like -the decoys, they will soon be a thing of the past, -as they are now beginning to be superseded by -steam, which does the work required much more -efficiently and quickly.</p> - -<p>Otters abound in the pathless forests of reeds -which fringe the meres, and are often bold and -familiar. One night while sleeping on board his -yacht at Cantley, Mr Davies was awakened by -the noise of something heavy jumping on board. -The boat rocked violently, and the disturbance -was so sudden and inexplicable, that he got up -just in time to see a large dark object plunge -overboard and disappear. On striking a light, -the broad and unmistakable track of an otter, was -visible, imprinted wherever his moist feet had -been, and that seemed to be everywhere, for he -had evidently made a round in search of something -eatable.</p> - -<p>The whole marsh district is subject to destructive -floods and high tides, which rush up the -rivers, driving back the fresh water and destroying -vast quantities of fish. The whole coast also -suffers much from sea-breaches. ‘Between Winterton -and Waxham, hard by Hornsea Mere, the -only barrier between sea and lake is a line of what -are called “miel” banks, which are simply banks -of sand held together by marum grasses. Upon -this marum grass, which grows in the loosest -sand, the welfare of a wide district depends. -In 1781, there were many breaches of the sea -between Waxham and Winterton, so that every -tide the salt water and sands destroyed the marshes -and the fish in the broads and river; and if the -wind blew briskly from the north-west, by which -the quantity of water in the North Sea was largely -increased from the Atlantic, the salt water drowned -all the low country even as far as Norwich.’ In -the following eight years, the breaches were -seriously widened, the largest being two hundred -yards in width, through which a vast body of -water poured.</p> - -<p>In a country so open, wind-storms are very -frequent; and what are called ‘Rodges blasts,’ -rotatory whirlwinds, often occasion great damage, -wrecking the windmills, uprooting trees, convulsing -the grasses, and lifting the reed-stacks -high into the air. Will-o’-the-wisps, once very -common, are now comparatively rare, having been -exorcised by drainage. Mr Davies only once saw -one at Hickling over a wet bit of meadow. ‘The -sportive fiend that haunts the mead’ appeared -to him as a small flickering phosphorescent light -faintly visible in the darkness.</p> - -<p>Another peculiar and uncomfortable phenomenon -of the marshes is the water-eynd or sea-smoke, -which, rolling up from the ocean, covers the whole -landscape with a dense watery vapour, shutting -out the placid beauty of lagoon and mere, and -reed-bed and coppice, and putting an end to all -pleasure, till the sun shines out again in a blaze -of glory, bathing the drenched flats in a warm -flush of colour. The reeds on the wide margins -of the meres then quiver in the sunlight, -which shimmers down into their dark-green -recesses; the still water gleams in the shallow -bays, where the cattle stand knee deep; and the -warm air is redolent of the odour of meadow-sweet -and thyme: all is motion and colour and -fragrance, as if Nature were visibly rejoicing at -having got quit of the uncomfortable bath of the -water-eynd.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak x-ebookmaker-important" id="BY_MEAD_AND_STREAM">BY MEAD AND STREAM.</h2> -</div> -<p class="ph3">BY CHARLES GIBBON.</p> - - -<h3>CHAPTER XXVI.—A QUESTION OF DIVISION.</h3> - -<p><span class="smcap">Philip</span> locked his desk, after placing Mr Shield’s -letter in his pocket-book, locked his door, and -hastened to the station in time to catch one of -the afternoon fast trains to Dunthorpe. As he -was in a hurry, he hired a fly to Ringsford. On -the way down, he had made up his mind to get -over what he anticipated would be a disagreeable -interview with his father, before going to Willowmere. -Then he would be able to tell Madge all -about it, and receive comfort from her.</p> - -<p>He alighted at the gate, and walked swiftly -up the avenue. The sun was out of sight; but -it had left behind a soft red glow, which warmed -and brightened the blackened landscape. Peering -through the dark lacework formed by the bare -branches of the trees, he saw a figure standing -as it were in the centre of that red glow: the -shadows which surrounded Philip making the -figure on the higher ground beyond appear to be -a long way off. A melancholy figure: light all -round him, darkness within himself.</p> - -<p>Philip quickened his steps, and taking a footpath -through the shrubbery, advanced to his -father, as he was beginning to move slowly from -the position in which he had halted.</p> - -<p>‘Glad to see you, Philip,’ said Mr Hadleigh,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_276">{276}</span> -whilst he did what he had rarely done before—took -his son’s arm. There was also a touch of -unusual kindliness in his voice and manner. ‘I -have missed you the last few evenings more than -I fancied I should do. You have been enjoying -yourself, no doubt—theatres, clubs, friends and -cards perhaps. Well, enjoy these things whilst -you may. You have the means and the opportunity. -I never had; and it is singular how soon -the capacity for enjoyment is extinguished. Like -everything else—capacity or faculty—it requires -exercise, if it is to be kept in good condition.’</p> - -<p>Philip was relieved, but considerably puzzled -by his father’s strange humour.</p> - -<p>‘I have been enjoying myself; but not in the -way you mention. I have been harder at work -than I have ever been, except when preparing for -the last exam.’</p> - -<p>‘Ah, and you did not make so very much out -of that hard work after all.’</p> - -<p>‘Not so much as I ought to have done, certainly; -but I hope to make more out of this -effort,’ said Philip, with an attempt to pass lightly -by the uncomfortable reminder that he had failed -to take his degree. ‘Have you read the papers -I sent you?’</p> - -<p>‘Yes.’</p> - -<p>Mr Hadleigh spoke as if reluctant to make -the admission, and his brows contracted slightly, -but his arm rested more kindly on that of his son, -as if to make amends for this apparent want of -sympathy. Philip was unconscious of these signs -of varying moods.</p> - -<p>‘I am glad of that—now you will be able to -give me the benefit of your advice. Wrentham -fancies I am running after a chimera, and will -come to grief. He has not said that precisely; -but what he has said, and his manner, convince -me that that is his notion; and I am afraid that it -will materially affect the value of his help to me. -I should like you to tell me what you think.’</p> - -<p>Mr Hadleigh was silent; and they walked on -towards the sheltered grove, where, during his -convalescence, Philip had spent so many pleasant -hours with Madge. As they were passing through -it, the father spoke:</p> - -<p>‘I did not want to read those papers, Philip, -but—weakness, perhaps—a little anxiety on your -account, possibly, compelled me to look over them. -I have nothing to say further than this—the -experiment is worth making, when you have the -means at command. I should have invested the -money, and enjoyed myself on the interest. You -see’ (there was a curious half-sad, half-mocking -smile on his face), ‘I who have known so little -pleasure in life, am a strong advocate for the -pleasure of others.’</p> - -<p>‘And that is very much the same theory which -I am trying to work out.’</p> - -<p>‘Yes; and I hope you will succeed, but—you -are forgetting <i>yourself</i>.’</p> - -<p>‘Not at all—my pleasure will be found in my -success.’</p> - -<p>‘Success,’ muttered Mr Hadleigh, speaking to -himself; ‘that is our one cry—let me succeed in -this, and I shall be happy!... We must all -work it out for ourselves.’ Then, as if rousing -from a dream: ‘I hope you will succeed, Philip; -but I have no advice to give beyond this—take -care of yourself.’</p> - -<p>‘That is just what I am anxious for you and’—(he -was about to say ‘and Mr Shield;’ but desirous -of avoiding any unpleasant element, he quickly -altered the phrase)—‘you and everybody to understand. -My object is not to establish a new charity, -but a business which will yield me a satisfactory -income for my personal labour, and a sufficient -interest on the capital invested, whilst it provides -the same for my work-people, or, as I should -prefer to call them, my fellow-labourers. As my -returns increase, theirs should increase’——</p> - -<p>‘Or diminish according to the result of your -speculation?’ interrupted Mr Hadleigh drily.</p> - -<p>‘Of course—that is taken for granted. Now, -I want you to tell me, do you think this is -folly?’</p> - -<p>‘No, not folly,’ was the slow meditative reply, -‘if you find pleasure in doing it. My theory is -doubtless a selfish one, but it is the simplest rule -to walk by—that is, do what is best for yourself -in the meantime, and in the end, the chances are -that you will find you have also done the best -for others. If you believe that this experiment -is the most satisfactory thing you can do for -yourself, then, it is not folly, even if it should -fail.’</p> - -<p>‘Thank you. I cannot tell you how much -you relieve my mind. I am convinced that in -making this experiment I am dealing with a -problem of great importance. It is a system -by which capital and labour shall have an equal -interest in working earnestly for the same end. -I want to set about it on business principles. -You are the only man of practical experience -who has spoken a word of comfort on the subject.’</p> - -<p>‘I am dealing with it from a selfish point of -view—considering only how you can obtain most -pleasure, comfort, happiness—call it what you -may—for yourself out of your fortune. I should -never have entered on such a scheme. You tell -me that it was optional on your part to go -into business or to live on the interest of the -money?’</p> - -<p>‘Quite optional; but of course I could not -accept the trust and do nothing.’</p> - -<p>‘Ah, I think my advice would have been that -you should have accepted the trust, as you call -it, invested it in safe securities, married, and -basked in the sunshine of life—an easy mind, and -a substantial balance at your banker’s.’</p> - -<p>‘But my mind would not have been easy if -I had done that.’</p> - -<p>‘Then you were right not to do it. Every -man has his own way of seeking happiness. You -have yours; and I shall watch the progress of -your work with attentive interest.—But we have -other matters to speak about. I have done something -of which I hope you will approve.’</p> - -<p>Philip could not help smiling at this intimation. -Mr Hadleigh had never before suggested -that he desired or required the approval of any -one in whatever he chose to do.</p> - -<p>‘You can be sure of what my opinion will be -of anything you do, sir.’</p> - -<p>‘Perhaps.’</p> - -<p>They walked on in silence, and passed Culver’s -cottage. They met Pansy coming from the well -with a pail of water. She put down the pail, -and courtesied to the master and his son. She -was on Philip’s side of the path, and he whispered -in passing:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_277">{277}</span></p> - -<p>‘There is good news for you by-and-by, Pansy.’</p> - -<p>She smiled vaguely, and blushed—she blushed -at everything, this little wood-nymph.</p> - -<p>‘What is the good news you have for the girl?’ -asked Mr Hadleigh sharply, although he had not -appeared to be observing anything.</p> - -<p>‘I suppose there can be no harm in telling you, -although it is a kind of a secret.’</p> - -<p>‘What is it?’</p> - -<p>‘Caleb Kersey is making up to Pansy; but old -Sam does not like it, as the young man is so -unsettled. The good news I have for her is that -Kersey has joined me, and will have good wages -and good prospects.’</p> - -<p>‘You might have told her at once.’</p> - -<p>‘I thought it better that the man himself should -do that.... But you had something to say about -yourself.’</p> - -<p>‘It concerns you more than me,’ said Mr -Hadleigh, resuming his low meditative tone. ‘I -have been altering my will.’</p> - -<p>There are few generous-minded men who like -to hear anything about even a friend’s will, and -much less about that of a parent who in all probability -has a good many years still to live. Philip -was extremely sensitive on the subject, and therefore -found it difficult to say anything at all when -his father paused.</p> - -<p>‘I would rather you did not speak about it,’ he -said awkwardly. ‘There is and there can be no -necessity to do so. You have many years before -you yet, and in any case I shall be content with -whatever arrangement you make.’</p> - -<p>‘Many years before me still,’ continued Mr -Hadleigh musingly, repeating his son’s words. -‘True; I believe I have; it is possible even that -I might marry again, and begin a new life altogether -with prospects of happiness, since it would -be guided by the experience of the past. Most -people have a longing at some time or other that -they might begin all over again; and why should -not a man of, say middle age, take a fresh start, -and realise in the new life the happiness he has -missed—by his own folly or that of others—in the -old one?’</p> - -<p>Philip did not understand, and so remained -silent.</p> - -<p>Was there ever a grown-up son or daughter -who felt quite pleased with the idea of a parent’s -second marriage? When the marriage cannot be -prevented, the sensible ones assume a graciousness, -if they do not feel it, and go on their way with -varying degrees of comfort in being on friendly -terms with their parent; the foolish ones sulk, -suffer, cause annoyance, and derive no benefit -from their ill-humour. Philip was surprised and -a little amused at the suggestion of his father -marrying again. The idea had never occurred -to him before; and now, when it was presented, -the memory of his mother stirred in him what he -owned at once was an unreasonable feeling of disapproval. -To his youthful mind, a man nearly -fifty was old; he had not yet reached the period -at which the number of years required to make a -man old begins to extend up to, and even beyond -the threescore and ten. When he came to think -of it, however, he could recollect numerous -instances of men much older than his father -marrying for the second, third, or fourth time.</p> - -<p>‘Yes, it is possible to make a fresh start,’ Mr -Hadleigh went on, still musing; ‘and one may -learn to forget the past. Did you ever consider, -Philip, what a tyrant memory is?’</p> - -<p>‘I cannot say that I have, sir.’</p> - -<p>‘No; you are too young—by-and-by you will -understand.... But this is not what I wanted to -speak about.’</p> - -<p>He rested a little more on his son’s arm, as if -he were in that way desirous of giving him a -kindly pressure, whilst he recalled his thoughts -to the immediate subject he wished to explain.</p> - -<p>‘It is about the will. I have made a new -one. I suppose you are aware that although my -fortune is considerable whilst it remains in the -hands of one person, it dwindles down to a moderate -portion when divided amongst four or five?’</p> - -<p>‘Clearly.’</p> - -<p>‘Then suppose you and I reverse our positions -for a time. You have five children, three of them -being girls. You wish to leave each of them as -well provided for as possible. One of the sons -becomes by peculiar circumstances the possessor -of a fortune almost equal to your own. Tell me -how you would divide your property?’</p> - -<p>Philip reflected for a few moments, and then -with a bright look, which showed that he had -taken in the whole problem, replied:</p> - -<p>‘The thing is quite simple. I should leave the -son who had been so lucky only a trifle of some -sort, in token of good-will; and I should divide -the whole of the property amongst the other four. -That would be the right thing to do; would it -not?’</p> - -<p>The father halted, grasped his hand, and looked -at him with a smile. This was such an unusual -sign of emotion, that Philip was for an instant -taken aback.</p> - -<p>‘That is almost precisely what I have done,’ -said Mr Hadleigh calmly; ‘and your answer is -what I expected. Still, it pleases me to learn -from your own lips that you are satisfied.’</p> - -<p>‘Not only satisfied, but delighted that you -should have had so much confidence in me as to -know I should be.’</p> - -<p>‘A few words more and I shall release you.—Oh, -I know that you are eager to be off, and -where you wish to be off to. Right, right—seek -the sweets of life, the bitters come.... -You are separating yourself from me. That is -natural, and follows as a matter of course. I -would have liked it better if the circumstances -had been different. Enough of that. Your rooms -at the house will be always ready for you, and -come when you may, you will be welcome to me. -Now, go: be happy.’</p> - -<p>He pointed towards the Forest in the direction -of Willowmere. He looked older than usual: -in his movement and attitude there was an unconscious -solemnity, as if he were giving his favourite -son a blessing while sending him forth into the -world.</p> - -<p>Philip bowed. He saw that his father was -strangely agitated, and so turned away without -speaking.</p> - -<p>What was in the man’s mind, as he watched -the stalwart figure rapidly disappear into the -shadows of the Forest? Hitherto, he had been -walking and standing erect, although his head -was bent a little, as usual. Now his whole form -appeared to collapse, as if its strength had been -suddenly withdrawn, and he dwindled, as it were, -in height and breadth.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_278">{278}</span></p> - -<p>The shadows deepened upon him as he stood -there; stars began to appear; a branch of an elm-tree -close by began to creak monotonously—betokening -the gathering strength of the wind, -although at present it seemed light; and still he -remained in that dejected attitude, gazing vacantly -in the direction taken by Philip, long after Philip -had disappeared.</p> - -<p>He roused from his trance, looked round him, -then clasping hands at his back, walked dreamily -after his son.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="QUEER_LODGERS">QUEER LODGERS.</h2> -</div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">Scientific</span> research, especially when directed to -the more obscure and remote conditions of animal -life, has often a twofold interest. In itself, -and in the marvellous structural adaptations -revealed by the microscope, the pursuit has its -own special attraction; while, in addition, the -information thus obtained may be so practically -utilised as to minister to the preservation of -health, and to the improved rearing and cultivation -of animals and plants. An inquiry, -conducted three years ago, by Professor A. P. -Thomas, at the instance of the Royal Agricultural -Society of England, is noticeable in both -these respects. The inquiry extended over a -period of more than two years, and the object -in view throughout was the discovery of the -origin and possible prevention of a well-known -and destructive disease affecting sheep and other -grazing animals, both in this country and abroad; -and during the course of the inquiry, which -was a painstaking and exhaustive one, facts of -no small interest, from the view-point of natural -history alone, have been elicited.</p> - -<p>By this disease—Liver-fluke, Fluke Disease, -Liver-rot, as it is variously termed—it has -been estimated that as many as one million -sheep perished annually, in this country alone, -from the effects of the malady—a loss which was -doubled, if not sometimes trebled, by the advent -of a wet season such as 1879, and which does not -include the large percentage of animals annually -dying in America, Australia, and elsewhere from -the same cause. It was known that the disease -was due to the presence of a parasitic flat worm in -greater or lesser numbers, together with its eggs, in -the entrails of infected sheep, and also that flocks -grazing habitually in low and marshy pasture-grounds -were generally more liable than others -to be attacked; but it was not known precisely -in what manner the disease was incurred.</p> - -<p>It was not until 1882 that careful experiment -finally succeeded in tracing throughout the wonderful -life-career of the liver-fluke, and shedding -light upon the possibility of the prevention of -the scourge. Into this latter question of prevention, -we do not enter at present. Those who -are interested, practically or otherwise, in this -branch of the subject may consult for full particulars -the scientific journals in which the results of -this inquiry first appeared. (See <i>Journal of Royal -Agricultural Society</i>, No. 28; also <i>Quarterly Journal -of Microscopical Science</i> for January 1883. For the -history of the disease, see <i>The Rot in Sheep</i>, by -Professor Simonds; London: John Murray, 1880.) -Even from a dietetic point of view, it is for the -public good that the disease should be extirpated, -as it is well known that unwholesome dropsical -meat, from the bodies of fluke-infested sheep, is -frequently pushed on the market. Nor is this -parasite exclusively confined to the lower animals. -It has been communicated to human beings, -doubtless from the consumption of infected meat -producing cysts in the liver, &c.</p> - -<p>But it is the initial results of Professor Thomas’s -experiments, those which trace the progress of -the fluke from the embryo to the adult stage, -with which we have to do at present.</p> - -<p>Starting from the previously observed but -obscure relationship said to exist between the -larval forms of certain snails or slugs and the -liver-fluke, as found in the carcases of sheep and -other infected back-boned animals, it was discovered, -after much careful examination, that a -certain connection <i>did</i> exist between them, with -this remarkable circumstance in addition—that -the minute cysts, or bags, which contain the -embryo fluke, and which are to be found adhering -to grass stalks in some sheep-pastures, emanated, -indeed, from the body of one particular description -of snail, but that this embryo parasite was -undoubtedly derived—several generations previously, -and in quite another form—from the sheep -itself!</p> - -<p>The <i>original</i> embryo—not that which clings to -grass stalks, but the embryo three or four generations -before, born of the adult fluke’s egg—is -hatched after the egg drops from the sheep’s body, -in marshy ground, ditches, or ponds. It then -attaches itself to the snail, produces in the snail’s -body two, and sometimes three generations of -successors, all totally dissimilar from the original -fluke. The last generation alone quits the snail, -and, assuming the ‘cyst’ form, waits to be -swallowed by the grazing animal, in order to -become a full-grown fluke. The fluke’s progeny -again go through the transformation changes of -their predecessors.</p> - -<p>Once more, in order to render the process clear. -Taking the adult fluke—laying its eggs principally -in the bile-ducts of the sheep, which it -never leaves—as the original parent, its children, -grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, inhabiting -the snail, are all totally different in appearance -from their original progenitor—most of the generations -differing also from each other. It is only -the fourth, though sometimes the third generation, -which, changing its form to a migratory one, is -enabled thereby to leave the snail, and ultimately -to assume the cyst form, adapted to produce in -time the veritable fluke once more. Naturalists -term this process, one not unknown in other -forms of life, ‘alternation of generation,’ or metagenesis.</p> - -<p>The appearance of the full-grown fluke (<i>Fasciola -hepatica</i>) is well known to sheep-farmers and -others. It is of an oval or leaf-like shape, not -unlike a small flounder or fluke (hence the name -of the worm), pale brown in colour, and ranging in -size from an inch to an inch and a third in length—though -occasionally much smaller, even the -twenty-fourth of an inch—and in breadth about -half its own length. A projecting portion is -seen at the head, with a mouth placed in -the centre of a small sucker at the tip, by -which the fluke attaches itself. Over two hundred -flukes have been found in the liver of a -single sheep. Each one is estimated to produce -some hundreds of thousands of eggs. Each<span class="pagenum" id="Page_279">{279}</span> -of the eggs contains one embryo, which when -full grown is nearly the length of the egg—the -spare egg-space up to that time being filled with -the food-stuff to support it till hatched. As long -as the egg continues in the body of the sheep, it -remains inert. It is only when dropped—as they -are from time to time in great numbers by the -animal—and alighting upon wet ground, or on -water in ditches or drains, that, under favourable -conditions of heat, &c., the embryo at length -comes forth. The time which elapses before the -egg is hatched is extremely variable.</p> - -<p>Viewed through a microscope, the egg, which -is only the two-hundredth of an inch in diameter, -may be seen to contain the embryo, which is -unlike its parent in every way, and will never -show any trace of family likeness to it. It -is in the shape of a sugar-loaf, with a slight -projecting point at the broader end, and two -rudimentary eyes near the same. When hatched -on damp ground or in water, it swims freely -about with the broader end forward, like a boat -propelled stern foremost. The whole of its body, -except the projecting horn, which is drawn in -when swimming, is covered with long waving -hairs, or <i>cilia</i>, which, being moved backwards -and forwards, serve as oars, or paddles, to propel -it through the water.</p> - -<p>Swimming with a restless revolving motion -through the water, the embryo begins to search -for suitable quarters—in other words, to find a -snail wherein to quarter itself. It is not easily -satisfied, although snails, generally speaking, are -plentiful enough. Indeed, it has been definitely -ascertained that of all the known descriptions -of snails there are only <i>two</i> which the embryo -ever attacks. Of these two species, only one -is apparently suitable as a dwelling, those who -enter the other perishing shortly after admittance. -The only suitable snail is a very insignificant -fresh-water one, <i>Limnæus truncatulus</i>, -with a brown spiral shell. It is only from a -quarter to a half inch in size, and seems to have -no popular name. It is to be found very widely -distributed through the world. Said to breed -in mud of ditches and drains, it is so far amphibious -as to wander far from water. It can also -remain dry for a lengthened period; and even -when apparently quite shrivelled up for lack of -moisture, revives with a shower of rain.</p> - -<p>The embryo knows this snail from all others; -placed in a basin of water, with many other species -of snails, it at once singles this one out, to -serve as an intermediate host. Into the soft -portion of the snail’s body, the embryo accordingly -begins to make its way. Pressing the boring -horn or tool of its head against the yielding flesh -of the snail, the embryo advances with a rotary -motion like a screw-driver, aided by the constant -movement of the <i>cilia</i>. The borer, as it pierces -the snail, grows longer and longer, and finally -operating as a wedge, a rent is eventually made -sufficiently large to admit the unbidden guest -bodily to the lodgings it will never quit. It -settles at once in or near the lung of the -snail, there to feed on the juices of the animal. -The paddle-like cilia, now useless, are thrown -off; the eyes become indistinct; it subsides into -a mere bag of germs, as it changes to a rounder -form, and becomes in other words a <i>sporocyst</i>, -or bladder of germs—for this animal, unlike its -egg-laying parent, produces its young alive within -itself.</p> - -<p>This, then, is the first stage—the embryo, from -the fluke’s egg, migrates to, and becomes a sporocyst -in the snail’s body.</p> - -<p>The germs inside the sporocyst in time come -to maturity, commencing the existence of the -<i>second</i> generation, which are called <i>rediæ</i>. These -germs number from six to ten in each sporocyst; -they grow daily more elongated in form, and one -by one, leave the parent by breaking through the -body-walls, the rent which is thus made closing -up behind them. These <i>rediæ</i> thus born, never -leave the snail. They are, however, different -from the sporocyst, being about the twentieth -of an inch, in adult size, sack-like in shape, -furnished with a mouth, and also with an -intestine. Two protuberances behind serve the -animal for legs; for, unlike the sporocyst, the -<i>redia</i> does not remain in one part of its house, -but travels backwards and forwards, preying -chiefly on the liver of the snail, and generally -doing a great deal of damage. Finally, indeed, -these parasites destroy their host altogether.</p> - -<p>In the bodies of the <i>rediæ</i>—so called after -Redi, the anatomist—the third generation again -is formed in germ fashion. The nature of this -third generation varies. <i>Rediæ</i> may in turn -produce <i>rediæ</i> like themselves, tenants of the -snail for life; or they may produce another form, -totally dissimilar, one which is fitted for quitting -the snail and entering on another mode of existence. -This change, however, takes place either -in the first generation produced by the <i>rediæ</i>, -or, at latest, in the second, more frequently in -the latter. At first, this new form appears like -the young of the sporocyst. But when either in -the children or the grandchildren of the first -<i>rediæ</i>, this stage is reached, the animal undergoes -a remarkable change, to fit it for new surroundings. -It is to be an emigrant, and dons for -that purpose a tail twice as long as itself. It -is then termed a <i>cercaria</i>, and is shaped like a -tadpole.</p> - -<p>To recapitulate, then. A <i>cercaria</i> may thus -be the young of the <i>rediæ</i>, either of the first -or second generation; and the <i>rediæ</i> again sprang -from the sporocyst, which is the after-formation -of the fluke’s embryo. These <i>cercariæ</i> or tadpole-shaped -animals are flat and oval in the body, -about the ninetieth of an inch in length, and -tail more than twice as long. They escape from -the parent <i>rediæ</i> by a natural orifice, crawl out -of the snail, and enter on a new life. Its -existence as a <i>cercaria</i> in this style will much -depend on the locality of the snail for the time -being. If it should find itself in water when -quitting the snail, the <i>cercaria</i> attaches itself when -swimming to the stalks of aquatic plants; or if in -confinement, to the walls of the aquarium. If -the snail is in a field or on the edge of a ditch -or pool, the <i>cercaria</i> on leaving proceeds to fix -itself to the stalks or lower leaves of grass near -the roots. In every case the result is the same. -Gathering itself up into a round ball on coming -to rest, a gummy substance exudes from the -body, forming a round white envelope; the tail, -being violently agitated, falls off, and the round -body left, hardening externally with exposure, -the cyst or bladder—measuring about the hundredth -of an inch across—is complete. Every<span class="pagenum" id="Page_280">{280}</span> -cyst contains a young fluke, ready to be matured -<i>only when swallowed by some grazing animal, -such as a sheep</i>. Till that happens, the fluke -within remains inert; and if not swallowed thus -within a few weeks, the inmate of the cyst finally -perishes. Of this remarkable family, however, -a sufficient number outlive the changes and risks -of their life-history to render the disease caused -by the survivors a serious scourge.</p> - -<p>It is to be hoped that the further results of -careful inquiry into the habits of these parasites -will have the effect of reducing the evil to a -minimum.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHEWTON-ABBOT">CHEWTON-ABBOT.</h2> -</div> -<p class="ph3">BY HUGH CONWAY.</p> - - -<h3 title="CHAPTER I.">IN THREE CHAPTERS.—CHAPTER I.</h3> - -<p><span class="smcap">The</span> Abbots of Chewton-Abbot, Gloucestershire, -were county people, and, moreover, had always -occupied that coveted position. They dreaded -not the researches of the officious antiquary -who pokes about in pedigrees, and finds that, -three or four generations ago, the founders of -certain families acquired their wealth by trade. -They at least were independent of money-earning. -The fact that Chewton began to be -known as Chewton-Abbot so far back as the -fifteenth century, showed they were no upstarts. -Indeed, if not of the very first rank—that rank -from which knights of the shire are chosen—the -Abbots, from the antiquity of their family, and -from the centuries that family had owned the -same estates, were entitled to dispute the question -of precedence with all save a few very great -magnates. They were undoubtedly people of -importance. The reigning Abbot, it need scarcely -be said, was always a county magistrate, and at -some period of his life certain to serve as sheriff. -But for generations the family had occupied -exactly the same position, and exercised exactly -the same amount of influence in the land. The -Abbots seemed neither to rise nor fall. If they -added nothing to their estates, they alienated -nothing. If they gave no great statesmen, -warriors, or geniuses to the world, they produced, -sparingly, highly respectable members of society, -who lived upon the family acres and spent their -revenues in a becoming manner.</p> - -<p>The estates were unentailed; but as, so far, -no Abbot had incurred his father’s displeasure, -the line of descent from father to eldest son had -been unbroken, and appeared likely to continue -so. True, it was whispered, years ago, that the -custom was nearly changed, when Mr William -Abbot, the present owner of the estate, was leading -a life in London very different from the respectable -traditions of the family. But the reports were -not authenticated; and as, soon after his father’s -death, he married a member of an equally old, -equally respectable, and equally proud family, all -such ill-natured gossip died a natural death; and -at the time this tale opens, William Abbot was -leading the same quiet life his ancestors had led -before him.</p> - -<p>It was one of the cherished Abbot traditions -that the family was not prolific. So long as the -race was kept from disappearing, they were contented. -In this respect the present head of the -family showed himself a true Abbot. He had -but one son, a young man who had just taken a -fair degree at Oxford, and who was now staying -at Chewton Hall, before departing on a round of -polite travel, which, according to old-world precedent, -his parents considered necessary to crown -the educational edifice.</p> - -<p>Mr and Mrs Abbot were in the breakfast-room -at Chewton Hall. Mr Abbot was alone at the -table, lazily discussing his breakfast. His wife -and son, who were early risers, had taken that -meal nearly an hour before. The young man -being away on some outdoor pursuit, the husband -and wife had the room to themselves. Mr Abbot -had just poured out his second cup of tea, and, -according to his usual custom, commenced breaking -the seals of the letters which lay beside his -plate. His wife drew near to him.</p> - -<p>‘I am afraid that infatuated boy has in some -way entangled himself with the young woman I -told you of,’ she said.</p> - -<p>‘What young woman?’ asked Mr Abbot, laying -down his letters.</p> - -<p>‘I told you last week he was always riding into -Bristol—so often, that I felt sure there was some -attraction there.’</p> - -<p>‘You did, I remember. But I took little notice -of it. Boys will be boys, you know.’</p> - -<p>‘Yes; but it is time we interfered. I found -him this morning kissing a photograph and -holding a lock of hair in his hand. I taxed him -with his folly.’</p> - -<p>‘My dear Helena,’ said Mr Abbot, with a shade -of contempt in his voice, ‘will you forgive my -saying, that in matters of this kind it is best to -leave young men alone, and not to see more than -can be helped. Leave the boy alone—that is my -advice.’</p> - -<p>‘You don’t quite understand me,’ replied Mrs -Abbot. ‘He wants to marry her.’</p> - -<p>‘Wants to do what!’ cried her husband, now -fully aware of the gravity of the situation.</p> - -<p>‘He told me this morning he had asked her -to be his wife. She would, he knew, consent, -if we would welcome her as a daughter.’</p> - -<p>‘How kind! How considerate!’ said Mr Abbot -scornfully. ‘Who may she be, and where did -Frank meet her?’</p> - -<p>‘He saved her from some incivility at the -railway station, and so made her acquaintance. -Who she is, he scarcely seems to know, except -that her name is Millicent Keene, and that she -lives with an aunt somewhere in Clifton. Frank -gave me the address, and begged me to call—assuring -me that I should take her to my heart -the moment I saw her.’</p> - -<p>‘He must be mad!’ exclaimed Mr Abbot, rising -and pacing the room. ‘Mad, utterly mad! Does -he think that we are going to let him—an Abbot—marry -the first nameless young woman who -strikes his fancy? I will talk to him, and soon -bring him to his senses. The estates are unentailed, -thank goodness! so I have some hold over -him.’</p> - -<p>Mrs Abbot’s lip just curled with scorn, as she -heard her husband’s direct commonplace plan for -restoring her son’s wandering senses. She knew -that such parental thunderbolts were apt to do -more harm than good.</p> - -<p>‘I would not threaten just yet,’ she said. -‘Frank is very self-willed, and may give us<span class="pagenum" id="Page_281">{281}</span> -trouble. For my part, I intend to drive into -Clifton this morning and see the girl.’</p> - -<p>‘What folly! To give the affair your apparent -sanction?’</p> - -<p>‘No. To show her how absurd it is to fancy -we shall ever allow Frank to take a wife out -of his proper sphere; and to hint that if he -marries against our will, her husband will be a -beggar. The fact of her withholding her consent -to marry him until we approve of her, shows -me she is quite able to look after her own -interests.’</p> - -<p>Mr Abbot, who knew his wife’s skill in social -diplomacy, offered no valid objections; so the -horses were ordered, and Mrs Abbot drove to -Clifton.</p> - -<p>The mistress of Chewton Hall was a woman -of about fifty-five; tall and stately, noticeably but -not attractively handsome. Rising in intellect -far above the level of the family into which she -had married, she had started by endeavouring -to mould her husband’s mind to the capacities of -her own. In the early days of their married life, -she had urged him unceasingly to strive for a -higher position in the world than that of a mere -country gentleman. She wished him to enter -the political arena; to contest a borough; in fact, -to change his way of living entirely. But she -found the task a hopeless one. A docile husband -in most things, nothing could move William Abbot -from the easy groove in which his forefathers had -always placidly slidden. The husband and wife -were of very different natures. Perhaps the only -common ground between them was their family -pride and the sense of their importance. Yet -while the gentleman was quite contented with the -latter as it now stood, and always had stood, the -lady was ambitious, and wished to augment it. -But her efforts were of no avail; so at last, with -a feeling touching dangerously near to contempt, -she gave up attempting to sway her husband in -this direction, and centred all her hopes in her -only son, on whom she flattered herself she had -bestowed some of her superior intellect. He -should play an important part in the world. At -the first opportunity, he should enter parliament, -become a distinguished member of society, and, -so far as possible, satisfy her ambition. Of course -he must marry, but his marriage should be one -to strengthen his hands both by wealth and connections. -Now that he was on the threshold -of man’s estate, she had turned her serious attention -to this subject, and had for some time been -considering what heiresses she knew who were -worthy of picking up the handkerchief which she -meant to let fall on his behalf. She had postponed -her decision until his return from the -contemplated tour. Then she would broach the -subject of an advantageous matrimonial alliance -to him. By broaching the subject, Mrs Abbot -meant laying her commands upon her son to wed -the lady she had chosen for him.</p> - -<p>As she drove along the twelve miles of road to -Clifton, and reflected on all these things, is it any -wonder that her frame of mind was an unpleasant -one; that her eyes grew hard, and she felt little -disposed to be merciful to the owner of that pretty -face which threatened to come between her and -the cherished schemes of years?</p> - -<p>The carriage stopped at the address given her -by her son—a quiet little house in a quiet little -street, where the arrival of so grand an equipage -and so fine a pair of horses was an event of sufficient -rarity to make many windows open, and -maid-servants, even mistresses, crane out and -wonder what it meant. Mrs Abbot, having ascertained -that Miss Keene was at home, and having -made known her wish to see her, was shown into -a room plainly but not untastefully furnished. -A piano, an unfinished drawing, some dainty -embroidery, gave evidence of more refinement -than Mrs Abbot expected, or, to tell the truth, -hoped to find in her enemy’s surroundings. A -bunch of flowers, artistically arranged, was in -a glass vase on the table; and the visitor felt more -angry and bitter than before, as she recognised -many a choice orchid, and knew by this token -that the Chewton hothouses had been robbed for -Miss Keene’s sake. Mrs Abbot tapped her foot -impatiently as she awaited the moment when her -youthful enemy should appear and be satisfactorily -crushed.</p> - -<p>The mistress of Chewton-Abbot had somehow -conceived the idea that the girl who had -won her son’s heart was of a dollish style of -beauty. She may have jumped at this conclusion -from the memories of her own young -days, when she found the heart of man was -more susceptible to attractions of this type than -to those of her own severer charms. Pretty -enough, after a fashion, she expected to find the -girl, but quite crushable and pliant between her -clever and experienced hands. She had no reason -for this impression. She had coldly declined -to look at the portrait which her son, that morning, -had wished to show her. Having formed her -own ideal of her would-be successor at Chewton -Hall, she regulated her actions accordingly. Her -plan was to begin by striking terror into the foe. -She wished no deception; the amenities of social -warfare might be dispensed with on this occasion. -Knowing the advantage usually gained by a sudden -and unexpected attack, she had not revealed her -name. She simply desired the servant to announce -a lady to see Miss Keene.</p> - -<p>Hearing a light step approaching the door, Mrs -Abbot drew herself up to her full height and -assumed the most majestic attitude she could. It -was as one may imagine a fine three-decker of the -old days turning her broadside, with sixty guns -run out and ready for action, upon some puny foe, -to show her that at a word she might be blown -out of the water. Or it was what is called nowadays -a demonstration in force.</p> - -<p>The door opened, and Millicent Keene entered. -Mrs Abbot bowed slightly; then, without speaking -a word, in a deliberate manner looked the newcomer -up and down. She did not for a moment -attempt to conceal the object of her visit. Her -offensive scrutiny was an open declaration of -war, and the girl was welcome to construe it as -such.</p> - -<p>But what did the great lady see as she cast that -hostile, but, in spite of herself, half-curious glance -on the girl who came forward to greet her unexpected -visitor? She saw a beautiful girl of about -nineteen; tall, and, making allowances for age, -stately as herself. She saw a figure as near perfection -as a young girl’s may be. She saw a sweet -calm face, with regular features and pale pure -complexion, yet with enough colour to speak of -perfect health. She saw a pair of dark-brown<span class="pagenum" id="Page_282">{282}</span> -truthful eyes—eyes made darker by the long -lashes—a mass of brown hair dressed exactly as -it should be. She saw, in fact, the exact opposite -to the picture she had drawn: and as Millicent -Keene, with graceful carriage and a firm but light -step, advanced towards her, Mrs Abbot’s heart -sank. She had entirely miscalculated the strength -of the enemy, and she felt that it would be no -easy matter to tear a woman such as this from a -young man’s heart.</p> - -<p>The girl bore Mrs Abbot’s offensive glance -bravely. She returned her bow, and without -embarrassment, begged her to be seated. Then -she waited for her visitor to explain the object -of her call.</p> - -<p>‘You do not know who I am, I suppose?’ said -Mrs Abbot after a pause.</p> - -<p>‘I have the pleasure of knowing Mrs Abbot -by sight,’ replied Millicent in a perfectly calm -voice.</p> - -<p>‘Then you know why I have called upon -you?’</p> - -<p>The girl made no reply.</p> - -<p>Mrs Abbot continued, with unmistakable scorn -in her voice: ‘I have called to see the young -lady whom my son tells me he is resolved, against -his parents’ wish, to make his wife.’</p> - -<p>‘I am sorry, Mrs Abbot, you should have -thought it needful to call and tell me this.’</p> - -<p>‘How could you expect otherwise? Frank -Abbot bears one of the oldest names, and is heir -to one of the best estates in the county. When -he marries, he must marry a wife in his own -position. What has Miss Keene to offer in -exchange for what he can bestow?’</p> - -<p>The girl’s pale face flushed; but her brave -brown eyes met those of her interrogator without -flinching. ‘If I thought you would understand -me, Mrs Abbot, I should say that I have a -woman’s true love to give him, and that is enough. -He sought me, and won that love. He asked for -it, and I gave it. I can say no more.’</p> - -<p>‘In these days,’ said Mrs Abbot contemptuously, -‘persons in our station require more than love—<i>that</i>, -a young man like Frank can always have -for the asking.—Of what family are you, Miss -Keene?’</p> - -<p>‘Of none. My father was a tradesman. He -was unfortunate in his business, and has been -many years abroad trying to redeem his fortunes. -With the exception of an education which, I fear, -has cost my poor father many privations, I have -nothing to boast of. I live with an aunt, who -has a small income of her own.—Now you know -my history.’</p> - -<p>Mrs Abbot had soon seen that crushing tactics -failed to meet the exigencies of the case. She -put on an appearance of frankness. ‘You are -candid with me, Miss Keene, and it appears to -me you have plenty of common-sense. I put it -to you; do you think that Mr Abbot or myself -can lend our sanction to this ill-advised affair?’</p> - -<p>The girl’s lip curled in a manner which was -particularly galling to Mrs Abbot. A tradesman’s -daughter, whose proper place was behind a -counter, had no right to be able to assume such an -expression! ‘That was for Frank, not for me, -to consider, Mrs Abbot.’</p> - -<p>‘But surely you will not marry him against -our wishes?’</p> - -<p>The girl was silent for a minute. An answer -to such a question required consideration. ‘Not -yet,’ she said. ‘We are both too young. But if, -in after-years, Frank Abbot wishes me to be his -wife, I will share his lot, let it be high or low.’ -She spoke proudly and decisively, as one who -felt that her love was well worth having, and -would make up for much that a man might be -called on to resign in order to enjoy it.</p> - -<p>It was this independence, the value the tradesman’s -daughter set upon herself, that annoyed -Mrs Abbot, and led her into the mistake of firing -her last and, as she hoped, fatal shot. ‘You are -not perhaps aware,’ she said, ‘that the estate is -unentailed?’</p> - -<p>Millicent, who did not at once catch the drift -of her words, looked inquiringly.</p> - -<p>‘I mean,’ explained Mrs Abbot, ‘that my -husband may leave it to whom he likes—that if -you marry my son, you will marry a beggar.’</p> - -<p>The girl rose. With all her practice, Mrs -Abbot herself could not have spoken or looked -more scornfully. ‘How little you know me, -madam, to insult me like that! Have you so -poor an opinion of your son as to fancy I cannot -love him for himself? Did you marry Mr Abbot -for his wealth?’—Mrs Abbot winced mentally at -the question.—‘Do you think I wish to marry -Francis Abbot only for the position I shall gain? -You are wrong—utterly wrong!’</p> - -<p>‘Then,’ said Mrs Abbot with the bitterness of -defeat, ‘I suppose you will persist in this foolish -engagement, and the only chance I have is an -appeal to my son?’</p> - -<p>‘I have promised to be his wife. He alone -shall release me from that promise. But it -may be long before he can claim it, and -so your anxiety may rest for some time, -Mrs Abbot. I have this morning received a -letter from my father. He wishes me to join -him in Australia. Next month, I shall sail, and -it will probably be three or four years before I -return. Then, if Frank wishes me to be his wife—if -he says to me: “I will risk loss of lands and -love of parents for your sake,” I will bid him -take me, and carve out a way in the world for -himself.’</p> - -<p>A weight was lifted from Mrs Abbot’s mind. -She caught the situation at once. Three or four -years’ separation! What might not happen! -Although she strove to speak calmly as a great -lady should, she could not keep a certain eagerness -out of her voice. ‘But will you not correspond -during that time?’</p> - -<p>This was another important question. Again -Millicent paused, and considered her answer. ‘I -will neither write nor be written to. If, eventually, -I marry your son—if his love can stand -the test of absence and silence—at least you shall -not say I did not give him every opportunity of -terminating our engagement.’</p> - -<p>Mrs Abbot rose and assumed a pleasant manner—so -pleasant that, considering the respective -positions of herself and Miss Keene, it should -have been irresistible. ‘I am compelled to say -that such a decision is all I could expect. You -must forgive me if, with my views for my son’s -career, I have said anything hasty or unjust. I -will now wish you good-morning; and I am sure, -had we met under other circumstances, we might -have been great friends.’</p> - -<p>Whatever of dignity and majesty Mrs Abbot<span class="pagenum" id="Page_283">{283}</span> -dropped as she put on this appearance of friendliness -was taken up by the girl. She took no -notice of her visitor’s outstretched hand. She -rang the bell for the servant, and bowed coldly -and haughtily as Mrs Abbot swept from the -room.</p> - -<p>But bravely as she had borne herself under the -eyes of her inquisitor, when the rumble of the -carriage wheels died away from the quiet street, -Millicent Keene threw herself on the sofa and -burst into a flood of tears. ‘O my love!’ she -sobbed out. ‘It is hard; but it is right. It will -never be, I know! It is too long—too long to -wait and hope. Can you be true, when everything -is brought to bear against me? Will you -forget? Will the love of to-day seem but a boy’s -idle dream? Shall <i>I</i> ever forget?’</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="EPISODES_OF_LITERARY_MANUSCRIPTS">EPISODES OF LITERARY MANUSCRIPTS.</h2> -</div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">A great</span> deal might be said on the subject of -manuscripts. From the carefully illuminated -specimens of old, preserved in our public museums, -down to the hastily scribbled printer’s -‘copy’ of to-day, each bears a history, and could -contribute to unfold some portion of the life of -the author whose hand had wrought it. Indeed, -were it possible for each written sheet to tell its -own story—we here refer to manuscripts of more -modern date—what a picture of intellectual -endurance, disappointments, poverty, and ofttimes -despair, would be brought to light; what tales -of huntings amongst publishers, rebuffs encountered, -and hardships undergone, would be added -to literary biography.</p> - -<p>Thackeray has himself told us how his <i>Vanity -Fair</i> was hawked about from publisher to publisher, -and its failure everywhere predicted. For -a long period, Charlotte Brontë’s <i>Jane Eyre</i> shared -the same fate. Again, Mr Kinglake’s carefully -composed <i>Eothen</i>, the labour of several years, was -destined to go the weary round of publishers in -vain; and it was only when its author induced -one of that cautious fraternity to accept the classic -little work as a present, that he at length enjoyed -the gratification of seeing it in print. The first -chapter of <i>The Diary of a Late Physician</i> was -offered successively to the conductors of the -three leading London magazines, and rejected as -‘unsuitable to their pages,’ and ‘not likely to -interest the public,’ until Mr Warren, then a -young man of three-and-twenty, and a law -student, bethought himself of <i>Blackwood</i>. ‘I -remember taking my packet,’ he says, ‘to Mr -Cadell’s in the Strand, with a sad suspicion that -I should never see or hear anything more of it; -but shortly after, I received a letter from Mr -Blackwood, informing me that he had inserted -the chapter, and begging me to make arrangements -for immediately proceeding regularly with -the series. He expressed his cordial approval -of that portion, and predicted that I was likely -to produce a series of papers well suited to -his magazine, and calculated to interest the -public.’</p> - -<p>Turning now for a moment to the disciples -of dramatic authorship, we discover that their -experience is similar to that of many authors. -Poor Tom Robertson—that indefatigable actor -and dramatist—sank into his grave almost before -he saw the establishment of his fame; and John -Baldwin Buckstone, during his struggling career, -was in the habit of pawning his manuscripts with -Mr Lacy, the theatrical publisher, in order to -procure bread. Upon one occasion, when met -by a sympathising actor in the street, he appeared -with scarcely a shoe to his feet, and almost broken-hearted, -declaring that all his earthly anticipations -were centred upon the acceptance of a -comedy, the rejection of which would certainly -prove fatal to his existence. In the end, happily -for him, the comedy was accepted.</p> - -<p>The following anecdote is connected with the -history of the Odéon, one of the first theatres in -Paris. One day a young author came to ascertain -the fate of his piece, which, by the way, had -appeared such a formidable package upon its -receipt, that the secretary was not possessed of -sufficient moral courage to untie the tape that -bound it. ‘It is not written in the style to suit -the theatre,’ he replied, handing back the manuscript. -‘It is not bad, but it is deficient in -interest.’ At this juncture, the young man smiled, -and untying the roll, he displayed some quires -of blank paper! Thus convicted, the secretary -shook hands with the aspirant, invited him to -dinner, and shortly afterwards assisted him to a -successful <i>début</i> at the Odéon. Another author -once waited upon the popular manager of a -London theatre inquiring the result of the perusal -of his manuscript; whereupon the other, having -forgotten all about it, carefully opened a large -drawer, exhibiting a heterogeneous mass of documents, -and exclaimed: ‘There! help yourself. I -don’t know exactly which is yours; but you may -take any one of them you like!’</p> - -<p>In this instance the manager was even more -considerate towards the feelings of an author -than that other dramatic demigod who, it is said, -was regularly in receipt of so many new pieces, -good, bad, and indifferent, that he devised an -ingenious method of getting rid of them. During -that particular season, the exigencies of the play -required a roll of papers—presumably a will—to -be nightly burned in a candle in full sight of -the audience; and in this way he managed to -make room for the numerous manuscripts which -young authors only too eagerly poured in upon -him, quite unconscious of their certain fate!</p> - -<p>Indeed, volumes might be written upon the -difficulties sometimes encountered in climbing the -literary ladder, and whilst the more persevering -have ultimately achieved the goal of their ambition, -others have been fated to see their writings -consigned to oblivion, and have themselves perhaps -sunk into an early grave, consequent upon -the disappointments and privations endured. -When the poet Chatterton was found lying dead -in his garret in Brook Street, his manuscripts -had been strewn upon the floor, torn into a -thousand pieces. Thus much good literature -has often been lost to posterity. A number of -instances, too, might be cited wherein persons -have risen from their deathbed to destroy their -manuscripts, and which task has either proved -so distressing to their sensibilities, or fatiguing to -their physical powers, that they immediately afterwards -expired. It is placed upon record how -Colardeau, that elegant versifier of Pope’s Epistle -of Eloisa to Abelard, recollected at the approach -of his death that he had not destroyed what was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_284">{284}</span> -written of a translation of Tasso; and unwilling -to intrust this delicate office to his friends, he -raised himself from his bed, and dragging his -feeble frame to the place where the manuscript -was deposited, with a last effort he consumed it -in the flames. In another example, an author of -celebrity directed his papers to be brought to his -bed, and there, the attendant holding a light, -he burned them, smiling as the greedy flames -devoured what had been his work for years.</p> - -<p>Few authors willingly destroy any manuscript -that has cost them a long period of toil and research, -though history records numerous examples -where the loss of certain manuscripts has almost -proved an irremediable misfortune to their author. -The story of Mr Carlyle lending the manuscript of -the first volume of his <i>French Revolution</i> to his -friend John Stuart Mill, and its accidental destruction -by fire, is well known. A similar disaster -once happened to M. Firmin Abauzit, a philosopher -who had applied himself to every branch of -human learning, and to whom the great Newton -had remarked, among other compliments: ‘You are -worthy to distinguish between Leibnitz and me.’ -It happened on one occasion that he had engaged -a fresh female servant, rustic, simple, and thoughtless, -and being left alone in his study for a while, -she declared to herself that she would ‘set his -things to rights;’ with which words she deliberately -cleared the table, and swept the whole of -his papers into the fire, thus destroying calculations -which had been the work of upwards of -forty years. Without one word, however, the -philosopher calmly recommenced his task, with -more pain than can readily be imagined. Most -readers also will remember the similar misadventure -which occurred to Sir Isaac Newton.</p> - -<p>Of manuscripts which have perished through -the ignorance or malignancy of the illiterate, -there are numerous instances. The original -‘Magna Charta,’ with all its appendages of seals -and signatures, was one day discovered, by Sir -Robert Cotton, in the hands of his tailor, who -with his shears was already in the act of cutting -up into measures that priceless document, which -had been so long given up as for ever lost. He -bought the curiosity for a trifle; and caused it to -be preserved, where it is still to be seen, in the -Cottonian Library, with the marks of dilapidation -plainly apparent. The immortal works of -Agobart were found by Papirius Masson in the -hands of a bookbinder at Lyons, the mechanic -having long been in the habit of using the manuscript -sheets for the purpose of lining the covers -of his books. Similarly, a stray page of the second -decade of Livy was found by a man of letters -concealed under the parchment of his battledore, -as he was amusing himself at that pastime in the -country. He at once hastened to the maker of -the battledore; but alas! it was too late—the man -had used the last sheet of the manuscript of Livy -about a week before!</p> - -<p>A treatise printed among the works of Barbosa, -a bishop of Ugento, in 1649, fell into the possession -of that worthy, it is said, in a rather singular -manner. Having sent out for a fish for his table, -his domestic brought him one rolled up in a piece -of written paper, which excited the bishop’s curiosity -so much, that he forthwith rushed out to -the market, just in time to discover and rescue -the original manuscript from which the leaf had -been torn. This work he afterwards published -under the title of <i>De Officio Episcopi</i>.</p> - -<p>The manuscripts of Leonardo da Vinci suffered -greatly from the wilful ignorance of his relatives. -Once, when a curious collector of antiquities -chanced to discover a portion of his writings by -the merest accident, he eagerly carried them to -one of the descendants of the great painter; but -the man coldly observed that ‘he had a great -deal more in his garret, which had lain there -for many years, if the rats had not destroyed -them.’</p> - -<p>Cardinal Granville was in the habit of preserving -his letters, and at his death, he left behind him -a prodigious number, written in all languages, -and duly noted, underlined, and collated by his -own hand. These relics were left in several -immense chests, to the mercy of time and the -rats; and subsequently, five or six of the chestsful -were sold to the grocers as waste paper. It was -then that an examination of the treasure was -made; and as the result of the united labours of -several literary men, enough of the papers to -fill eight thick folios were rescued, and afterwards -published.</p> - -<p>Fire and shipwreck have at various periods -caused considerable havoc among manuscripts. -Many of our oldest Anglo-Saxon manuscripts -were consumed some years ago by a fire in the -Cottonian Library; and those which remain -present a baked and shrivelled appearance, rendering -them almost unrecognisable. Ben Jonson -on one occasion sustained the loss of the labours -of twenty-one years within one short hour, by -fire; and Meninsky’s famous Persian Dictionary -met with a like fate from the effects of a bomb -falling upon the roof of his house during the -siege of Vienna by the Turks.</p> - -<p>National libraries have occasionally been lost at -sea. In the beginning of last century, a wealthy -burgomaster of Middelburg, in the Netherlands, -named Hudde, actuated solely by literary curiosity, -made a journey to China; and after travelling -through the whole of the provinces, he set sail -for Europe, laden with a manuscript collection -of his observations, the labour of thirty years, -the whole of which was sunk in the ocean. -Again, Guarino Verenese, one of those learned -Italians who volunteered to travel through Greece -for the recovery of ancient manuscripts, had his -perseverance repaid by the acquisition of many -priceless treasures. Returning to Italy, however, -he was shipwrecked; and such was his grief at -the loss of this collection, that his hair became -suddenly white.</p> - -<p>Differing from those authors who have destroyed -their manuscripts before death, are those who -have delivered them into the hands of relatives -and friends, together with the fullest instructions -as to their disposal. It is well known that -Lord Byron handed the manuscript of his autobiography -to Tom Moore, with the strictest -injunctions not to publish it till after his death. -Immediately after he expired, Moore sold the -manuscript to John Murray the publisher for -two thousand pounds; but subsequently knowing -something of the nature of the autobiography, -and the effect which its publication would exert -upon the memory of the deceased author, his own -better feelings, united to the persuasions of Byron’s -friends, prompted him to regain possession of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_285">{285}</span> -document, which he did, at the same time refunding -the money to Mr Murray. The manuscript -was then burned.</p> - -<p>In the matter of the manuscripts of musical -works, it may be related that shortly after -Handel had settled at Hamburg in the capacity -of conductor of the opera in that city, he cultivated -the acquaintance of a well-known musician -named Mattheson, and the two became great -friends. But presently a quarrel arose between -them, the result of which was that they drew -their swords; and Mattheson’s weapon might in -all probability have dealt fatally with the other’s -life, had it not chanced to strike and break -upon the score of <i>Almira</i>, Handel’s first opera, -which he had hurriedly stowed beneath his -coat, and over which, it is said, the quarrel -had really arisen. After this, the combatants -became reconciled, and Mattheson eventually bore -the principal character in the opera when it was -produced.</p> - -<p>Returning to literature, it is perhaps not generally -known that Swift’s <i>Tale of a Tub</i> was introduced -to the world with such cunning secrecy, -that the manuscript was actually thrown from -a passing coach into the doorway of the bookseller -who afterwards published it. <i>Gulliver’s -Travels</i> was given to the public in the same -mysterious manner. From one of Swift’s letters -to Pope, as well as from another epistle to Dr -T. Sheridan, we learn that during the time -occupied in finishing, revising, and transcribing -his manuscript, prior to thinking about a fitting -bookseller to publish it, Tickell, then Secretary -of State, expressed a strong curiosity to see -the work concerning which there was so much -secrecy. But the Dean frankly replied that -it would be quite impossible for Mr Tickell -to find his ‘treasury of <i>waste-papers</i> without -searching through nine different houses,’ inasmuch -as he had his manuscripts conveyed from -place to place through nine or ten different -hands; and then it would be necessary to send -to him for a key to the work, else he could not -understand a chapter of it. In the end, <i>Gulliver</i> -came forth from its hiding-place through the -medium of Mr Charles Ford, who offered to -carry the manuscript to Mr Motte the bookseller, -on behalf of his friend, and to whom he afterwards -complained that the man’s timidity was -such as to compel him to make some important -abridgments throughout the work. The book -was, however, no sooner published, than it was -received with unlimited acclamation by all -classes.</p> - -<p>Of Defoe’s world-famous <i>Robinson Crusoe</i>, published -in 1719, we are told that it was only taken -up by Taylor—who purchased the manuscript, and -netted one thousand pounds by the publication—after -every other bookseller in town had refused -it. In a similar manner, one bookseller refused -to give twenty-five pounds for the manuscript of -Fielding’s <i>Tom Jones</i>; while another bought it, -and cleared not less than eighteen thousand -pounds by the venture during his lifetime!</p> - -<p>With a few particulars touching upon the value -of manuscripts which have at various periods -been put up for public sale after the death of -their authors, we will bring our paper to a -conclusion.</p> - -<p>When, some years ago, the manuscript of -Scott’s <i>Guy Mannering</i> came into the market, -the United States gladly secured the precious -treasure at a cost of three hundred and eighty -guineas; and in 1867, at a sale of the manuscripts -which had belonged to Mr Cadell the -well-known publisher, the <i>Lady of the Lake</i> was -sold for two hundred and seventy-seven guineas, -and <i>Rokeby</i> realised one hundred and thirty-six -guineas, both becoming the property of Mr Hope-Scott. -At the same sale, Sir William Fraser -paid two hundred guineas for the manuscript of -<i>Marmion</i>; whilst the same appreciative collector -of literary antiquities paid, in 1875, so high a -price as two hundred and fifty guineas for -Gray’s <i>Elegy in a Country Churchyard</i>, a composition -occupying no more than four quarto -sheets of manuscript.</p> - -<p>Of Charles Dickens’s manuscripts, <i>The Christmas -Carol</i> was purchased by Mr Harvey of St James’s -Street for the sum of one hundred and fifty -pounds, and resold by him for two hundred -and fifty pounds; <i>The Battle of Life</i> is still -held on sale by that gentleman; and <i>Our -Mutual Friend</i> was purchased, on behalf of Mr -George Washington Childs of Philadelphia, by -Mr Hotten, for two hundred pounds. As is -well known, the manuscript of <i>The Pickwick -Papers</i> was bequeathed by Mr Forster to the -South Kensington Museum, and will become the -property of the British nation on the death of -his widow, who has meanwhile, and in the -most generous manner, permitted it and other -manuscripts from the pen of Charles Dickens to -be publicly exhibited where they will become -permanently enshrined.</p> - -<p>Not very long ago, the manuscript of a short -poem by Burns brought seventy guineas; yet -this sum must be regarded as but a small proportion -of that value which might be realised -for only one line—not to speak of one play—written -by Shakspeare’s own hand. In his -<i>Memorials of Westminster Abbey</i>, the late Dean -Stanley has told us how Spenser the poet died -in King Street, Westminster, and was solemnly -interred in Poets’ Corner, hard by. ‘His hearse,’ -he says, ‘was attended by poets; and mournful -elegies, together with the pens that wrote them, -were thrown into his tomb. What a funeral -was that at which Beaumont, Fletcher, Jonson, -and, in all probability, Shakspeare attended! -what a grave in which the pen of Shakspeare -may be mouldering away!’ Certainly, if but one -line of that ‘mournful elegy’ written by the -Immortal Bard could be recovered and offered -for sale, we should then have a pleasing and -memorable opportunity of marking the estimation -in which the poet is held by mankind.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="ANIMAL_MEMORIALS_AND_MEMENTOES">ANIMAL MEMORIALS AND MEMENTOES.</h2> -</div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">Commenting</span> on the honour paid by the Athenians -to a dog that followed his master across the sea -to Salamis, Pope says: ‘This respect to a dog -in the most polite people of the world is very -observable. A modern instance of gratitude to -a dog, though we have but few such, is, that -the chief Order of Denmark—now called the -Order of the Elephant—was instituted in memory -of the fidelity of a dog named Wild-brat to one -of their kings, who had been deserted by his -subjects. He gave his Order this motto, or to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_286">{286}</span> -this effect (which still remains): “Wild-brat was -faithful.”’</p> - -<p>Had Pope been writing half-a-dozen years later, -he need not have gone to Denmark for a modern -instance of gratitude to a dog. Mr Robert—afterwards -Viscount—Molesworth being prevented -entering an outhouse by his favourite greyhound -pulling him away by his coat lappet, ordered a -footman to examine the place. On opening the -door, the man was shot dead by a hidden robber. -The faithful hound afterwards died in London, -and his master sent his body to Yorkshire, to -be inurned in Edglington Wood, near Doncaster; -the receptacle of his remains bearing an inscription -in Latin, which has been thus translated: -‘Stay, traveller! Nor wonder that a lamented -Dog is thus interred with funeral honour. But, -ah! what a Dog! His beautiful form and snow-white -colour; pleasing manners and sportive -playfulness; his affection, obedience, and fidelity, -made him the delight of his master, to whom -he closely adhered with his eager companions of -the chase, delighted in attending him. Whenever -the mind of his lord was depressed, he would -assume fresh spirit and animation. A master, -not ungrateful for his merits, has here, in tears, -deposited his remains in this marble urn.—M. F. C. 1714.’</p> - -<p>An Italian greyhound, buried in Earl Temple’s -garden at Stowe, had never saved his master’s life, -but was nevertheless held worthy of a memorial -stone, bearing the eulogistic epitaph from the pen -of Arbuthnot:</p> - -<p>‘To the Memory of <span class="smcap">Signor Fido</span>—An Italian -of good extraction, who came to England not to -bite us, like most of his countrymen, but to gain -an honest livelihood. He hunted not for fame, -yet acquired it; regardless of the praises of his -friends, but most sensible of their love. Though -he lived among the Great, he neither learned nor -flattered any vice. He was no bigot, though he -doubted of none of the Thirty-nine Articles. -And if to follow Nature and to respect the laws -of Society be philosophical, he was a perfect -philosopher, a faithful friend, an agreeable companion, -a loving husband, distinguished by a -numerous offspring, all which he lived to see take -good courses. In his old age, he retired to the -home of a clergyman in the country, where he -finished his earthly race, and died an honour and -an example to his species. Reader—This stone -is guiltless of flattery, for he to whom it is -inscribed was not a Man, but a Greyhound.’</p> - -<p>That eulogy is more than could honestly be said -of the animal whose monument proclaims:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">Here lies the body of my dear retriever;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Of his master alone he was ne’er a deceiver;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">But the Game-laws he hated, and poached out of bounds—</div> - <div class="verse indent0">His spirit now ranges the glad hunting-grounds.</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>Not in company, we should say, with that of the -blameless creature commemorated by the couplet:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">Beneath this stone, there lies at rest</div> - <div class="verse indent0"><span class="smcap">Bandy</span>, of all good dogs the best.</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>Among the sojourners at the <i>Grand Hôtel -Victoria</i>, Mentone, in the year 1872, was the Archduchess -Marie Régnier, who, during her three -months’ stay there, took such a liking to mine -host’s handsome dog Pietrino, that she begged -him of M. Milandi, and carried her prize with her -to Vienna. In less than a fortnight after reaching -that capital, Pietrino was back in his old quarters -again, having travelled eight hundred miles -across strange countries, over mountains, through -towns and villages, only to die at his master’s feet -five days after his coming home. He was buried -among the rose-bushes in the grounds so familiar -to him, his resting place marked by a marble -column, inscribed, ‘Ci-gît <span class="smcap">Pietrino</span>, Ami Fidèle. -1872.’</p> - -<p>Exactly a hundred years before that, a dog died -at Minorca out of sheer grief for the loss of his -master, who, ordered home to England, did not -care to encumber himself with his canine friend. -Honouring the deserted animal’s unworthily -placed affection, his owner’s brother-officers saw -him decently interred, and erected a stone to his -memory, bearing an epitaph written by Lieutenant -Erskine, ending:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">His life was shortened by no slothful ease,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Vice-begot care, or folly-bred disease.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Forsook by him he valued more than life,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">His generous nature sank beneath the strife.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Left by his master on a foreign shore,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">New masters offered—but he owned no more;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">The ocean oft with seeming sorrow eyed,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And pierced by man’s ingratitude, he died.</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>Of tougher constitution was a small Scotch -terrier that, in 1868, followed his master’s coffin -to the churchyard of Old Greyfriars, Edinburgh, -heedless of the notice forbidding entrance to dogs. -The morning after the funeral, Bobby was found -lying on the newly-made mound. He was turned -out of the churchyard; but the next morning -saw him upon the grave, and the next and the -next. Taking pity upon the forlorn little creature, -the custodian of the burial-ground gave him some -food. From that time, Bobby considered himself -privileged, and was constantly in and about the -churchyard, only leaving it at mid-day to obtain -a meal at the expense of a kind-hearted restaurant -keeper; but every night was passed upon the spot -holding all he had once held dear. Many were -the attempts to get him to transfer his allegiance -from the dead to the living; but none availed. -As long as his life lasted, and it lasted four years, -Bobby stayed by, or in the immediate neighbourhood -of, his master’s grave. Such fidelity, unexampled -even in his faithful race, deserved to be -kept in remembrance; and thanks to the most -munificent of Lady Bountifuls, his memory is kept -green by his counterfeit presentment on a drinking-fountain -of Peterhead granite erected on George -the Fourth Bridge, as a ‘tribute to the affectionate -fidelity of <span class="smcap">Greyfriars Bobby</span>. In 1868, -the faithful dog followed the remains of his -master to Greyfriars Churchyard, and lingered -near the spot until his death in 1872.’</p> - -<p>London is not without its memorials to dogs. -On the wall leading to the Irongate Stairs, near -the Tower, may be read: ‘In Memory of <span class="smcap">Egypt</span>, -a favourite dog belonging to the Irongate Watermen, -killed on the 4th August 1841, aged 16.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">Here lies interred, beneath this spot,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">A faithful dog, who should not be forgot.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Full fifteen years he watched here with care,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Contented with hard bed and harder fare.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Around the Tower he daily used to roam</div> - <div class="verse indent0">In search of bits so savoury, or a bone.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">A military pet he was, and in the Dock,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">His rounds he always went at twelve o’clock;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Supplied with cash, which held between his jaws—</div> - <div class="verse indent0">The reason’s plain—he had no hands but paws—</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_287">{287}</span> - <div class="verse indent0">He’d trot o’er Tower Hill to a favourite shop,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">There eat his meal and down his money drop.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">To club he went on each successive night,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Where, dressed in jacket gay, he took his pipe;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">With spectacles on nose he played his tricks,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And pawed the paper, not the politics.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Going his usual round, near Traitors’ Gate,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Infirm and almost blind, he met his fate;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">By ruthless kick hurled from the wharf, below</div> - <div class="verse indent0">The stones on which the gentle Thames does flow,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Mortally injured, soon resigned his breath,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Thus left his friends, who here record his death.’</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>A tablet placed near the north-east end of the -platform of the Edgware Road Railway Station, -is inscribed:</p> - -<p class="center"> - In Memory of<br /> - Poor <span class="smcap">Fan</span>,<br /> - Died May 8, 1876.<br /> - For ten years at the Drivers’ call.<br /> - Fed by many,<br /> - Regretted by all. -</p> - -<p>Poor Fan lies under an evergreen hard by. She -was notable for travelling continually on a railway -engine between the Edgware Road and -Hammersmith; occasionally getting off at an -intermediate station, crossing the line, and returning -by the next train; never taking any train -but a Hammersmith train when outward bound, -or going farther east than her own particular -station when journeying homewards.</p> - -<p>An Englishman travelling in France in 1698, -was disgusted at seeing, in a ducal garden, a -superb memorial in the shape of a black marble -cat couching on a gilded white marble cushion, -on the top of a black marble pedestal bearing the -one word ‘<span class="smcap">Menine</span>.’ Such posthumous honour -is rarely paid to puss; but two other instances -of it may be cited. In making excavations near -the Place de la Bastille, in the ground formerly -occupied by the gardens of the Hôtel de Lesdiguières, -the workmen brought to light the -handsome tomb of a cat which had belonged -to Françoise-Marguerite de Gondy, widow of -Emmanuel de Crequi, Duke of Lesdiguières. It -bore no laudatory epitaph, but the odd quatrain:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">Cy-gist une chatte jolie.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Sa maitresse, qui n’aima rien,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">L’aima jusqu’à la folie.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Pourquoi le dire? On le voit bien.</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>Or to put it into English: ‘Here lies a handsome -cat. Her mistress, who loved nothing, loved her -out of caprice. Why say so? All the world -knew it well.’</p> - -<p>‘Grandfather,’ a feline Nestor, belonging to a -lady in Scotland, was something more than -handsome. When he had passed his twenty-first -year, he could climb a tree, catch a bird, -hunt a mouse, or kill a rat, as cleverly as in -his younger days; and when he died, at the age -of twenty-two, had well earned himself a memorial -stone and an epitaph. Both were accorded him, -the last-named running thus:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">‘Life to the last enjoyed,’ here Pussy lies,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Renowned for mousing and for catching flies;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Loving o’er grass and pliant branch to roam,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Yet ever constant to the smiles of home.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent7">. . . - . .</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">The Preux Chevalier of the race of Cats,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">He has outlived their customary span,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">As Jenkins and Old Parr had that of Man;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And might on tiles have murmured in moonshine</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Nestorian tales of youth and Troy divine;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Of rivals fought; of kitten-martyrdoms;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">While, meekly listening, round sat Tabs and Toms.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">But with the modesty of genuine worth,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">He vaunted not his deeds of ancient birth;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">His whiskers twitched not, at the world’s applause,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">He only yawned, and licked his reverend paws;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Curled round his head his tail, and fell asleep,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Lapped in sweet dreams, and left us here to weep.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Yet pleased to know, that ere he sank to rest,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">As far as mortal cats are, he was blest.</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>The horse, even though he may have won a -fortune for his master, as a rule goes literally to -the dogs at last. Some few of the wonders of the -turf have escaped that indignity. A plain stone -inscribed simply ‘<span class="smcap">Sir Peter</span>,’ tells visitors to -Knowsley, Sir Peter Teazle lies beneath it. A -sculptured stone, rifled from a cardinal’s monument, -overlooks the grave of Emilius at Easby -Abbey. A cedar, planted by a once famous -jockey, rises hard by the resting-place of Bay-Middleton -and Crucifix; Kingston reposes under -the shade of a grand oak at Eltham; Blair-Athol, -the pride of Malton, lies embowered at Cobham; -and green is the grave of Amato, well within hail -of the course he traversed triumphantly. The -skeleton of Eclipse is still, we believe, on view -at Cannons, but it must be minus at least one -hoof, since King William IV. gave a piece of plate, -with a hoof of Eclipse set in gold, to be run -for at Ascot in 1832; the trophy being carried off -by Lord Chesterfield’s Priam. Equine mementoes -usually take this form, and many a sideboard -can show the polished hoof of a famous racehorse. -The Prince of Wales is said to possess a hoof of -the charger that bore Nolan to his death at -Balaklava; it is surmounted with a small silver -figure of the Captain, carrying the fatal order for -the advance of the Light Brigade. An interesting -military souvenir enough; but not so interesting -as a polished and shod hoof, mounted so as to -serve as a snuff-box, the property of the Guards’ -Club; for this bears the inscription: ‘Hoof of -<span class="smcap">Marengo</span>, rare charger of Napoleon, ridden by -him at Marengo, Austerlitz, Jena, Wagram, in -the campaign of Russia, and lastly at Waterloo;’ -while on the margin of the silver shoe is to be -read: ‘Marengo was wounded in the near hip -at Waterloo, when his great master was on him, -in the hollow road in advance of the French -position. He had been frequently wounded before -in other battles.’</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="SOME_FOOD-NOTES">SOME FOOD-NOTES.</h2> -</div> - - -<p><span class="smcap">We</span> have received the following notes from a gentleman—an -occasional contributor—who devotes -much of his attention to such matters, making -them indeed an especial and constant study.</p> - -<p><i>The Antipodean Rabbit Nuisance.</i>—That which -for several years past has been the bane of agriculturists -at the antipodes, is not unlikely to prove -in the end something akin to a blessing. Rabbits -in many places, notwithstanding what has been -done to exterminate them, are nearly as numerous -as ever; but instead of killing them by means of -poison and burying them in the ground, they are -now systematically ‘trapped,’ and, being cooked -and tinned, command a large sale. At the Western -Meat-preserving Company’s Works, Colac, Victoria, -as many as seventeen thousand pairs of rabbits -are dealt with in the course of the early weeks -of the season, which, it may be explained, lasts -for a period of seven months; and although the -supply diminishes as the season progresses, over<span class="pagenum" id="Page_288">{288}</span> -three hundred thousand pairs are annually prepared -for sale, finding a ready market. A large -number of persons are employed during the continuance -of this industry; no fewer than three -hundred and fifty people obtaining remunerative -work in connection with this one establishment. -On an average, over five thousand two-pound tins -are turned out every day within the period indicated. -These are made up for sale in three different -ways—as plain rabbits, as rabbits cooked -with onions, and rabbits done up with bacon; -and for each description there is now setting in -a large European demand. Many of the men -engaged in the rabbit-work at Colac are exceedingly -dexterous, and work with great rapidity, -some individual hands among them being able to -skin with ease one hundred pairs of rabbits in an -hour. In order to gain a wager, one very expert -person skinned four hundred and twenty-eight -of these animals in sixty minutes! It should be -mentioned, that before being skinned, the heads -and feet of the conies are chopped off. Work -of every kind is performed by the most cleanly -methods, and only the best animals are selected -to be tinned, while none are sent out without -being carefully examined. The trappers are paid -by results, and are, as a rule, welcome to visit -those farms which are overrun with the pest. In -the earlier weeks of the season, a gang of expert -trappers will each earn over five pounds a week. -The rabbits as they are caught are slung across -poles in convenient places, and then lifted and -conveyed in carts to ‘the works.’ There are -several establishments of the kind in Victoria, and -hopes are now being entertained by farmers of a -speedy deliverance from the rabbit nuisance, as -the large numbers which are being killed must -in time tell on the breeding supplies. Similar -establishments are also about to be started in New -Zealand.</p> - -<p><i>Edible Snails.</i>—None but those who have made -special inquiry into the subject are aware of the -great dimensions which the continental snail-trade -has of late assumed. Many tons of these vine-fed -delicacies reach Paris every year during the snail -season, which lasts from September to about April, -during some part of which period under natural -circumstances the animals would be asleep. In -this country there would be a universal shudder, -if it were proposed to add the common garden-snail -to the national commissariat, no matter how -attractive might be the shape assumed by the -<i>Escargot de Bourgogne</i>, or other snail of the orchard -or vineyard; yet we eat countless quantities of -whelks and periwinkles, which are not such -clean-feeding animals as the snails of the garden. -A recent authority states that enormous quantities -of snails are forwarded annually from -Marseilles and Genoa to Paris, and that tens of -thousands of these creatures find their way to -the markets of Bordeaux, Lyons, Vienna, and -Munich. Such is the demand, that many persons -now ‘cultivate’ snails for the markets, and find -the business a remunerative one. As many as -twenty or thirty thousand can be bred in a very -small space.</p> - -<p><i>The Conger Eel.</i>—This fish has of late attracted -a good deal of attention, from its having been -asserted that it was frequently made into turtle-soup. -Whether that be so or not, the conger eel -is in reality one of our most valuable food-fishes. -There is, unfortunately, a prejudice in the public -mind against it. In all continental fish-markets—at -least in those situated on seas which contain -the fish—a plentiful supply of congers may -always be had. The writer has seen hundreds of -them in the markets at Dieppe, Boulogne, and -Paris, and in the <i>cuisine</i> of France the conger -occupies a prominent place. It can be converted -into excellent soup, and may be cooked in various -other palatable ways: it may be roasted, stewed, -or broiled, or made into a succulent pie. In -Guernsey and Jersey, its flesh is highly esteemed, -as being adaptable to the culinary art in an -eminent degree. This fish ought to be much -more plentifully exposed for sale than it is; and -if our fishermen found a market for it, it would -no doubt be so. It is a most prolific animal, -yielding its eggs in literal millions. A specimen -which weighed twenty-eight pounds possessed a -roe of the weight of twenty-three ounces, which -was computed to contain the almost incredible -number of fifteen millions of eggs! Mr Buckland, -in one of his fishery Reports, says: ‘What -becomes of this enormous number of eggs, is -unknown to man; they probably form the food -of many small sea-creatures, especially crabs. -They are exceedingly minute.’ How curious it -seems that the common herring, which yields on -the average about thirty thousand ova, should -be so plentiful, and the conger, which contains -many millions of eggs, should be comparatively so -scarce.</p> - - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="nobreak" id="SERENADE">SERENADE.</h2> -</div> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0"><span class="smcap">Sweet</span> maiden, awake</div> - <div class="verse indent2">From the region of sleep,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Alone for thy sake</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Here my vigil I keep;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">The moon rides on high,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">The stars shine above,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Yet sleepless am I</div> - <div class="verse indent2">By the charm of thy love.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">All nature reposes:</div> - <div class="verse indent2">The sun is at rest,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Fast shut are the roses,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Each bird in its nest;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">The air is unstirred</div> - <div class="verse indent2">By the drone of the bee,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Safe penned is each herd—</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And my thoughts are of thee.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">Oh, what is dull Time</div> - <div class="verse indent2">In true love’s estimation?</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Who measures each chime,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">In its rapt contemplation?</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Immortal in birth,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">It descends from above,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And raises from earth</div> - <div class="verse indent2">The frail creatures who love.</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">Oh, spurn me not, maiden!</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Dismiss me not home,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">With misery laden</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Henceforward to roam;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">By the spell of thy power,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Which has fettered the free,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Creation’s sweet flower,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Bend thy fragrance to me!</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse right"><span class="smcap">Albert E. Stembridge.</span></div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<hr class="full" /> - -<p class="center">Printed and Published by <span class="smcap">W. & R. Chambers</span>, 47 Paternoster -Row, <span class="smcap">London</span>, and 339 High Street, <span class="smcap">Edinburgh</span>.</p> - -<hr class="full" /> - -<p class="center"><i>All Rights Reserved.</i></p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHAMBERS'S JOURNAL OF POPULAR LITERATURE, SCIENCE, AND ART, FIFTH SERIES, NO. 18, VOL. I, MAY 3, 1884 ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for -copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very -easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation -of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project -Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may -do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected -by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark -license, especially commercial redistribution. -</div> - -<div style='margin:0.83em 0; font-size:1.1em; text-align:center'>START: FULL LICENSE<br /> -<span style='font-size:smaller'>THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE<br /> -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK</span> -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person -or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the -Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when -you share it without charge with others. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country other than the United States. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work -on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the -phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: -</div> - -<blockquote> - <div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most - other parts of the world 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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you - are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws - of the country where you are located before using this eBook. - </div> -</blockquote> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg™ -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg™ -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg™. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg™ License. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format -other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ website -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain -Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -provided that: -</div> - -<div style='margin-left:0.7em;'> - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation.” - </div> - - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ - works. - </div> - - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - </div> - - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works. - </div> -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of -the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set -forth in Section 3 below. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right -of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’, WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™ -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™’s -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -The Foundation’s business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, -Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up -to date contact information can be found at the Foundation’s website -and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without widespread -public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state -visit <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/donate/">www.gutenberg.org/donate</a>. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg™ concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Most people start at our website which has the main PG search -facility: <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This website includes information about Project Gutenberg™, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. -</div> - -</div> - -</body> -</html> diff --git a/old/65594-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/65594-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 8032e76..0000000 --- a/old/65594-h/images/cover.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/65594-h/images/header.jpg b/old/65594-h/images/header.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 7892f08..0000000 --- a/old/65594-h/images/header.jpg +++ /dev/null |
