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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/16361-8.txt b/16361-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..dfdc0ed --- /dev/null +++ b/16361-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8409 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Lippincott's Magazine of Popular +Literature and Science, October, 1877, Vol. XX. No. 118, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Lippincott's Magazine of Popular Literature and Science, October, 1877, Vol. XX. No. 118 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: July 27, 2005 [EBook #16361] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIPPINCOTT'S MAGAZINE *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Christine D and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +Transcriber's note: Punctuation normalized, original spelling retained. + + +[Illustration: "He stepped forward with a smile." For Percival. Page 420.] + + + +LIPPINCOTT'S MAGAZINE +OF +_POPULAR LITERATURE AND SCIENCE_. + +OCTOBER, 1877. +Vol XX--No. 118 + +Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1877, by J.B. LIPPINCOTT +& CO., in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. + + + + + + +CHESTER AND THE DEE. + +TWO PAPERS.--I. + + +[Illustration: THE DEE ABOVE BALA.] + +The history of Chester is that of a key. It was the last city that gave up +Harold's unlucky cause and surrendered to William the Conqueror, and the +last that fell in the no less unlucky cause of the Stuart king against the +Parliamentarians. In much earlier times it was held by the famous Twentieth +Legion, the _Valens Victrix_, as the key of the Roman dominion in the +north-west of Britain, and at present it has peculiarities of position, as +well as of architecture, which make it unique in England and a lodestone to +Americans. Curiously planted on the border of the newest and most bustling +manufacturing district in England, close to the coalfields of North Wales, +the mines of Lancashire, the quays of its sea-rival Liverpool and the mills +of grimy, wealthy Manchester, it still exercises, besides its artistic and +historic supremacy, a _bonā fide_ ecclesiastical sway over most of these +new places. It is the first ancient city accessible to American travellers, +many of whom have given practical tokens of their affectionate remembrance +of it by largely subscribing to the fund for the restoration of the +cathedral, a work that has already cost some eighty thousand pounds. + +[Illustration: CAER-GAI.] + +The neighborhood of Chester is as suggestive of antiquity and foreigners as +the city itself. Volumes might be written about the quaint, Dutch-like +scenery of the low rich land reclaimed from the sea; the broad, sandy +estuary of the Dee, with the square-headed peninsula, the Wirrall, which +divides this quiet river from the noisy Mersey; the Hoylake, Parkgate and +Neston fisher-folk on the sandy shores, with their queer lives, monotonous +scratching-up of mussels and cockles, a never-failing trade, their terms of +praise--"the biggest scrat," for instance, "in all the island," being the +form of commendation for the woman who can with her rake at the end of a +long pole scratch up most shellfish in a given time; the low, fertile green +pastures, the creamy cheese and the eight yearly cheese-fairs. The city +itself is the most foreign-looking in all England, and the inhabitants have +the good taste to be proud of this. The river Dee--Milton's "wizard +stream"--celebrated both by English and Welsh bards, is not seen to as much +advantage under the walls of the Roman "camp" (_castra_=Chester) as +elsewhere, but its bridges serve to supply the want of fine scenery, +especially the Old Bridge, which crosses the river just at its bend, and +whose massive pointed arches took the place, when they were first built, of +a ferry by which the city was entered at the "Ship Gate," whence now you +look over "the Cop" or high bank on the right side of the stream, and view, +as from a dike in Holland, the reclaimed land stretching eight miles beyond +Chester, though the resemblance ceases at Saltney, where behind the +iron-works tower the Welsh hills--Moel-Famman conspicuous above the +rest--that bound the Vale of Clwyd. + +The Dee is more a Welsh than an English river. It rises in the bleak +mountain-region of Merionethshire, the most intensely Welsh of all +counties, above Bala Lake, which is commonly but incorrectly called its +source. Thence it flows through the Vale of Llangollen, famous in poetry, +and waters the meadows of Wynnestay, the splendid home of one of Wales's +most national representatives, Sir Watkin Williams Wynn, and only beyond +that does it become English by flowing round and into Cheshire. On a very +tiny scale the Dee follows something of the course of the Rhine: three +streamlets combine to form it; these unite at the village of Llanwchllyn, +and the river flows on, a mere mountain-torrent, past an old farmhouse, +Caer-gai, lying on a desolate moor at the head of Bala Lake, and through +the lake itself, after which its scenery alternates, like the Rhine's below +Constance, between rocky gorges and flat moist meadows dotted with hamlets, +churches and towns. Bala--otherwise Lin-Jegid and Pimblemere ("Lake of the +Five Parishes")--has some traditional connection with the great British +epic, or rather with its accessories--the _Morte d'Arthur_--of which +Tennyson has availed himself in _Enid_, mentioning that Enid's gentle +ministrations soothed the wounded Geraint + + As the south-west that blowing Bala Lake, + Fills all the sacred Dee. + +Arthur's own home, according to Spenser, was at the source of the Dee: +Vortigern's castle was near by on the head-waters of the Conway; and "under +the foot of Rauran's mossy base" was the dwelling of old Timon, where +Merlin came and gave to his care the wonderful infant who was to become the +Christian Hercules of Britain. "Rauran" is the mountain which in Welsh is +Arran-Pon-Llin, and which with its rocky shelves overlooks the yews of +Bala's churches and the unaccustomed shade trees which the little town +boasts in its principal streets. The lake, quiet and hardly visited as it +is now, has great resources which are likely to be called upon in the +future, and a survey was made ten years ago with a view of supplying +Liverpool, Manchester, Blackburn, Birkenhead, etc. with water whenever a +fresh demand for it should arise. This would imply the building of a +breakwater at the narrow outlet of the lake, the damming up of a few +mountain passes, and the "impounding" of a tributary of the Dee below the +lake--the Tryweryn, which has an extensive drainage-area; but these works +are still only projected. + +[Illustration: BALA.] + +There is scarcely an English brook that has not some historical +associations, some poetical reminiscences, some attractions beyond those of +scenery. Wherever water, forest and meadow were combined, an abbey was +generally planted. Bala Lake, with its fishing-rights, once belonged to the +Cistercian abbey of Basingwerk, while the Dee just above Llangollen was the +property of the abbey of Valle Crucis, whose beautiful ruins still stand on +its banks. Before we reach them we pass by the country of the Welsh hero, +Owen Glendower, from whom are descended many of the families of this +neighborhood and others--the Vaughans, for instance; by Glendower's prison +at Corwen, and the Parliament House at Dolgelly, where he signed a treaty +with France, and where the beautiful oak carving of the roof would alone +repay a visitor for his trouble in getting there. The Dee is for the most +part wanting in striking natural features, but here and there steep rocks +enclose its foaming waters; deep banks covered with trees break the rugged +shore-line; a village, such as Llanderfel with a tumbledown bridge, lies +nestled in the valley; and coracles shoot here and there over the stream. +These primitive boats, basketwork covered with hides, or, as used now, +canvas coated with tar, are propelled by a paddle, and are much used for +netting salmon. Near Bangor the fishermen are so skilful that they +generally win in the coracle-races got up periodically by enthusiastic +revivalists of old national sports. + +[Illustration: REMAINS OF VALLE CRUCIS ABBEY.] + +Llangollen Vale has a beauty of its own, the family likeness of which to +that of all valleys in the hearts of mountains makes it none the less +welcome. The picturesqueness of thatched houses and a dilapidation of +masonry which only age makes beautiful marks the difference between this +valley and the Alpine ones with their trim, clean toy houses, or the +Transatlantic ones with their square, solid, black log huts and huge +well-sweeps; otherwise the fresh greenery, the purple mountain-shadows, the +subdued sounds, no one knows whence, the sense of peace and solitude, are +akin to every other beautiful valley-scene of mingled wildness and +cultivation. A traveller can hardly help making comparisons, yet much +escapes him of the peculiar charm that hangs round every place, and is too +subtle to disclose itself to the eye of a mere passer. You must live at +least six months in one place before its true character unfolds: the broad +beauties you see at once, but it needs the microscope of habit to find out +the rarest charms. Therefore it is much easier to descant on the tangible, +striking beauty of Valle Crucis Abbey than on the aggregate loveliness of +Llangollen Vale; and perhaps it is this lack of familiarity that leads +novelists, poets and others to dwell so much more and with such detail on +buildings than on natural scenery. It may not be given them to understand +upon how much higher a plane of beauty stands a bed of ferns on a rocky +ledge, a clump of trees even on a flat meadow, and especially a tangled +forest-scene or a view of distant mountains in a sunset glow, or the +surface of water undotted by a sail, than the highest effect of man-made +beauty, be it even York Minster or the Parthenon. What man does has value +by reason of the meaning in it, and of course man cannot but fall short of +the perfection of his own meaning; whereas Nature is of herself perfection, +and perfection in which there is no effort. Valle Crucis is hardly a rival +of Fountains or Rivaulx. The Cistercians in the beginning of their +foundation were reformers, ascetic, and essentially agriculturists. Their +great leader, Bernard of Clairvaux, the advocate of silence and work, once +said, "Believe me, I have learnt more from trees than ever I learnt from +men." But decay came even into this community of farmer-monks, and the +praise and panegyric of the abbey, as handed down to us by a Welsh poet, +betray unconsciously things hardly to the credit of a monastic house, for +the abbot, "the pope of the glen," he tells us, gave entertainments "like +the leaves in summer," with "vocal and instrumental music," wine, ale and +curious dishes of fish and fowl, "like a carnival feast," and "a thousand +apples for dessert." + +[Illustration: OWEN GLENDOWER'S PRISON.] + +[Illustration: THE PARLIAMENT HOUSE, DOLGELLY.] + +The river-scenery changes below Llangollen, and gives us first a glimpse of +a wooded, narrow valley, then of the unsightly accessories of the great +North Wales coalfield, after which it enters upon a typically English +phase--low undulating hills and moist, rich meadows divided by luxuriant +hedges and dotted with single spreading trees. The hedgerow timber of +Cheshire is beautiful, and to a great extent makes up for the want of +tracts of wooded land. This country is not, like the Midland counties and +the great Fen district, violently or exclusively agricultural, and these +hedges and trees, which are gratefully kept up for the sake of the shade +they afford to the cattle, show a very different temper among the farmers +from that utilitarianism which marks the men of Leicester shire, Lincoln, +Nottingham, Norfolk, or Rutland. There even great land-owners are often +obliged to humor their tenants, and keep the unwelcome hedges trimmed so as +not to interpose two feet of shade between them and the wheat-crop; and as +often as possible hedges are replaced by ugly stone walls or wooden fences. +It is only in their own grounds that landlords can afford to court +picturesqueness, and in this part of the country the American who is said +to have objected to hedges because they were unfit for seats whence to +admire the landscape, might safely sit down anywhere; only, as matters are +seldom perfectly arranged, there is very little to admire but a flat +expanse of wheat, barley and grass. This part of Cheshire has hardly more +diversity in its river-scenery, but the mere presence of trees and green +arbors makes it a pleasant picture, while here and there, as at Overton +(this is Welsh, however, and belongs to Flintshire), a church-tower comes +in to complete the scene. Here the Dee winds about a good deal, and +receives its beautiful, dashing tributary, the Alyn, which runs through the +Vale of Gresford and waters the park of Trevallyn Old Hall, one of the +loveliest of old English homes. Its pointed gables and great clustering +stacks of chimneys, its mullioned and diamond-paned windows, its +finely-wooded park, all realize the stranger's ideal of the antique +manor-house. This neighborhood is studded with country-houses in all styles +of architecture, from the characteristic national to the uncomfortable and +cold foreign type. Houses that were meant to stand in ilex-groves under a +purple sky and a sun of bronze look forlorn and uninviting under the gray +sky of England and amid its trees leafless for so many months in the year: +home associations seem impossible in a porticoed house suggestive of +outdoor living and the relegation of chambers to the use of a mere refuge +from the weather. For many of these places are no more than villas +enlarged, and might be set down with advantage to themselves in the +Regent's Park in London, the very acme of the commonplace. On the other +hand, all the traditional associations that go with an English hall +presuppose a national style of architecture. Even florid Tudor, even sturdy +"Queen Anne," can stand juxtaposition with groups of horses, dogs and +huntsmen; Christmas cheer and Christmas weather set them off all the +better; leafless trees are no drawback; the house looks warmer, coseyer, +more home-like, the worse the blast and rush without. A roaring fire is +natural to the huge hall fireplace, while in a mosaic-paved "ante-room" or +a frescoed "saloon" it looks foreign and out of place. Many an odd Welsh +and English house has unfortunately disappeared to make room for a cold, +unsuccessful monstrosity that reminds one of a mammoth railway-station or a +new hotel; and when Welsh names are tacked on to these absurd dwellings the +contrast is as painful as it is forcible. Such, for instance, is +Bryn-y-Pys, on the Dee--a house you might guess to belong to a Liverpool +merchant who had trusted to a common builder for a comfortable home. +Overton Cottage, on the other side, fills in with its walks and plantations +an abrupt bend of the river, and the view from the up-going road at its +back is very lovely, though the scene is purely pastoral. Overton +Churchyard is one of the "seven wonders" of North Wales: it has a very trim +and stately appearance, not that ragged, free if melancholy, +outspreadedness which distinguishes many country cemeteries, that +unpremeditated luxuriance of creepers and flowers, blossoming bushes and +grasses, that make up at least half of one's pleasant reminiscences of such +places. How much more interesting to find an old tomb or quaint "brass" +under the temple of a wild rosebush or in the firm clasp of an ivy-root +than to walk up to it and read the inscription newly scraped and cleaned by +the voluble attendant who volunteers to show you the place! The great elms +by Overton Church and the half-timbered and thatched houses crowding up to +its gates somewhat make up for the splendor of the coped wall and new +monuments in the churchyard. A scene wholly old is the Erbistock Ferry, +which one might mistake for a rope-ferry on the Mosel. The cottage looks +like the dilapidated lodge of an old monastery, and here, at least, is no +trimness. Two walls with a flight of steps in each enclose a grass terrace +between them, and trees and bushes straggle to the edge of the river, +hardly keeping clear of the swinging rope. Coracles are sometimes used for +ferrying--also punts. Bangor is a familiar name to students of church +history, and to those who are not, the startling tale of the massacre of +twelve hundred British monks by the Saxon and heathen king of Northumbria, +who conquered Chester and invaded Wales in the seventh century, is repeated +by the local guides. At present, Bangor is interesting to anglers and to +lovers of curiosities--to the former as a good salmon-ground, and to the +latter for the quaint verses, which, though trivial in themselves, borrow a +value from the date of their inscription and the "laws" to which they +refer. They are on the wall of the lower story of the bell-tower: + +[Illustration: IN THE VALE OF LLANGOLLEN.] + + If that to ring you would come here, + You must ring well with hand and ear; + But if you ring in spur or hat, + Fourpence always is due for that; + But if a bell you overthrow, + Sixpence is due before you go; + But if you either swear or curse, + Twelvepence is due; pull out your purse. + Our laws are old, they are not new; + Therefore the clerk must have his due. + If to our laws you do consent, + Then take a bell: we are content. + +[Illustration: LLANGOLLEN.] + +Farndon Bridge and Wrexham Church (the latter looks like a small cathedral +to the unpractised eye) are the last Welsh points of attraction before the +Dee becomes quite an English river. Malpas (_mauvais pas_ = "bad step"), on +the English bank, is significantly so-called from its situation as a border +town: the rector, too, might consider it not ill named, as regards the odd +partition of the church tithes, which has been in force from time +immemorial, and has given rise to an explanatory legend concerning a +travelling king whom the resident curate wisely entertained in the absence +of the rector, receiving for his guerdon a promise of an equal share in the +income, not only for himself, but for all future curates. In the upper +rectory (the lower is the curate's house) was born Bishop Heber in 1783, +and in the early years of this century, before missionary meetings were as +common as they are now, the young clergyman wrote on the spur of the +moment, with only one word corrected, the well-known hymn, "From +Greenland's Icy Mountains." A missionary sermon was announced for Sunday at +Wrexham, the vicarage of Heber's father-in-law, Shirley, and the want of a +suitable hymn was felt. He was asked on Saturday to write one, and did so, +seated at a window of the old vicarage-house. It was printed that evening, +and sung the next day in Wrexham Church. The original manuscript is in a +collection at Liverpool, and the printer who set up the type when a boy was +still living at Wrexham within the last twenty years. + +[Illustration: CHESTER, FROM THE ALDFORD ROAD.] + +The river now makes a turn, sweeping along into English ground and making +almost a natural moat round Chester, the great Roman camp whose form and +intersecting streets still bear the stamp of Roman regularity, and whose +history long bore traces of the influence of Roman inflexibility mingled +with British dash. The view of the city is fine from the Aldford road (or +Old Ford, where a Roman pavement is sometimes visible in the bed of the +stream), with the cathedral and St. John's towering over the peaks and +gables that shoot up above the walls. The mention of the ford brings to +mind a famous crossing of the river during the civil wars. It was just +before the battle of Rowton Moor, which Charles I. watched from the tower +that now bears his name; and Sir Marmaduke Langdale, one of his leal +soldiers, wishing to send the king notice of his having crossed the Dee at +Farndon Bridge and pressing on the Parliamentarians, bade Colonel Shakerley +convey the message as speedily as possible. The latter, to avoid the long +circuit by the bridge, galloped to the Dee, took a wooden tub used for +slaughtering swine, employed "a batting-staff, used for batting of coarse +linen," as an oar, put his servant in the tub, his horse swimming by him, +and once across left the tub in charge of the man while he rode to the +king, delivered his message and returned to cross over the same way. + +[Illustration: CORACLES.] + +Eaton and Wynnestay are the grandest of the Dee country-seats, though not +the most interesting as to architecture. The former, like many Italian +houses, has its park open to the public, and is an exception to the +jealously-guarded places in most parts of England, but its avenues, rather +formal though very magnificent, are approached by lodges. The Wrexham +avenue leads to a farmhouse called Belgrave, and here is the +christening-point of the new, fashionable London of society, of novelists +and of contractors. Another like avenue leads to Pulford, where there is +another lodge: a third leads from Grosvenor Bridge to the deer-park, and a +fourth to the village of Aldford. The hall is an immense pile, strikingly +like, at first glance, the Houses of Parliament, with the Victoria Tower +(this in the hall is one hundred and seventy feet high, and built above the +chapel), and the style is sixteenth-century French, florid and costly. The +plan is perhaps unique in England, and comfort has been attained, though +one would hardly believe it, such size seeming to swamp everything except +show. The description of the house, as given by a visitor there, reads like +that of a palace: "The hall is an octagonal room in the centre of the house +about seventy-five feet in length and from thirty to forty broad: on each +side, at the end farthest from the entrance, are two doors leading into +anterooms--one the ante-drawing-room, and the other the ante-dining-room; +each is lighted by three large windows, and is thirty-three feet in length: +they are fine rooms in themselves, and well-proportioned. From these lead +the drawing-room and the dining-room respectively, both exceedingly grand +rooms, ingenious in design and shape, each with two oriel windows and +lighted by three others and a large bay window: this suite completes the +east side. The south is occupied by the end of the drawing-room and a vast +library--all _en suite_. The library is lighted by four bay windows, three +flat ones and a fine alcove, and the rest of the main building to the west +is made up of billiard- and smoking-rooms, waiting-hall, groom-of-chambers' +sitting- and bed-rooms, and a carpet-room, besides the necessary +staircases. This completes the main building, and a corridor leads to the +kitchen and cook's offices: this corridor, which passes over the upper +part of the kitchen, branches off into two parts--one leading to an +excellently-planned mansion for the family and the private secretary, and +another leading to the stables, which are arranged with great skill. The +pony stable, the carriage-horse stable, the riding horses, occupy different +sides, and through these are arranged, just in the right places, the rooms +for livery and saddle grooms and coachmen. The laundry, wash-house, +gun-room and game-larder occupy another building, which, however, is easily +approached, and the whole building, though it extends seven hundred feet in +length, is a perfect model of compactness. Great facilities are given to +any one who desires to see it." The mention of a "mansion for the family" +shows how the associations of a home are lost in this wilderness of +magnificence: indeed, I remember a remark of a person whose husband had +three or four country-houses in England and Scotland and a house in London, +that "she never felt at home anywhere." + +[Illustration: CHESTER CATHEDRAL AND CITY WALL.] + +The farms in this neighborhood are mostly small, the average being seventy +acres, and some are still smaller, though when one gets down to ten, one is +tempted to call them gardens. Grazing and dairy-work are the chief +industries. Farther inland, beyond the manufacturing town of Stockport, is +a house of the Leghs, an immense building, more imposing than lovely in its +exterior, but one of the most individual and pleasant houses in its +interior as well as in its human associations. It has been altered at +various times, and bears traces, like a corrected map, of each new phase of +architecture for several hundred years. The four sides form a huge +quadrangle, entered by foreign-looking gateways, and the rooms all open +into a wide passage that runs round three sides of the building, and is a +museum in itself. Old and new are just enough blended to produce comfort, +and the stately, old-English look of the drawing-room, with its dark +panelling and tapestry, is a reproach to the pink-and-white, +plaster-of-Paris style of too many remodelled houses. Outside there is a +garden distinguished by a heavy old wall overrun with creepers, dividing +two levels and making a striking object in the landscape; and beyond that, +where the country grows bleak and begins to remind one of moors, there are +the last survivors of a unique breed of wild cattle, which, like the +mastiffs at the house, bear the name of the place. The name of another +Cheshire house, formerly belonging to the Stanleys, and now to Mr. +Gladstone, is probably familiar to American readers--Hawarden Castle. The +present house must trust entirely to associations for its interest, having +been built in 1809, before much taste was applied to restore old places, +but the old castle in the park dates from the middle of the thirteenth +century. The park is not unlike that of Arundel, but the views from the +ruin are finer and more varied. The counties of Caernarvon, Denbigh, Flint, +Cheshire and Lancashire are spread out around it, and the ruin itself is +beautiful and extensive. + +The road from Hawarden to Boughton is exceedingly grand: we come upon one +of the widest panoramas of the Dee and one of the most typical of English +country scenes. A vast sweep of country unsurpassed in richness spreads +along the river on the Cheshire side: sixty square miles of fields and +pastures are in sight, with elms, sycamores and formal rows of Lombardy +poplars. Wherever the trees cluster in a grove they usually mark the site +of a country-house or a cherished ruin, like this one of old Hawarden, +where one enormous oak tree sweeps its branches on the ground on every +side, and forms a canopy whence you can peer out, as through the delicate +tracery of a Gothic window, at the landscape beyond. The mouth of the Dee +is visible from this road, whence at low water it seems reduced to a huge +sandbank, through which the tired river trickles like a brook. The dun sky +and yellow sands and gray sea, with the island of Hilbree, a counterpart of +Lindisfarne both in its legend of a recluse and its continual alternation +twice a day between the state of an island and a peninsula, make a picture +pleasant to look back upon. Hence too come the shoals of cockles and +mussels that go to delight Londoners. Then the open-sea fishing, the lithe +boats that seem all sail, the wide waste of waters, with the point of Air +and the Great Orme's Head walling it in on the receding Welsh coasts, the +remembrance of the shipwreck a little beyond the mouth of the Dee which led +to Milton's poem of _Lycidas_ (containing the phrase "wizard stream" which +has become peculiar to the Dee),--all claim our notice, and it seems +impossible that we are so few miles from Manchester and so far from the +historic, romantic times of old. + +LADY BLANCHE MURPHY. + +[Illustration: OVERTON CHURCH.] + + + + +FOR ANOTHER. + + Sweet--sweet? My child, some sweeter word than sweet, + Some lovelier word than love, I want for you. + Who says the world is bitter, while your feet + Are left among the lilies and the dew? + + Ah? So some other has, this night, to fold + Such hands as his, and drop some precious head + From off her breast as full of baby-gold? + I, for her grief, will not be comforted. + +S.M.B. PIATT. + + + + +AMONG THE KABYLES. + +CONCLUDING PAPER. + +[Illustration: ROMAN SEPULCHRE AT TAKSEBT.] + + +Few countries twenty-five leagues long by ten wide have such an assortment +of climates as Grand Kabylia. From the Mediterranean on the north to the +Djurjura range on the south, a distance of two hours' ride by rail if there +were a railway, the ascent is equal to that from New York Bay to the summit +of Mount Washington. The palm is at home on the shore, while snow is +preserved through the summer in the hollows of the peaks. This epitome of +the zones is more condensed than that so often remarked upon on the eastern +slope of Mexico, although it does not embrace such extremes of temperature +as those presented by Vera Cruz and the uppermost third of Orizaba. The +country being more broken, the lower and higher levels are brought at many +points more closely together than on the Mexican ascent. It happens thus +that semi-tropical and semi-arctic plants come not simply into one and the +same landscape, but into actual contact. Each hill is a miniature Orizaba, +so far as it rises, and hundreds of abrupt hills collected in a space +comparatively so limited so dovetail the floras of different levels as in a +degree to cause them to coalesce and effect a certain mutual adaptation of +habits. Good neighborhood has established itself rather more completely +among the vegetable than with the human part of the inhabitants. + +What more amiable example of give-and-take than the intertwining of birch +and orange, the thin ghostly sprays of the hyperborean caressing the +fragrant leaf and golden globes of the sub-tropical? This, and other +conjunctions less eloquent of contrast, may be seen on the headland of +Zeffoun or Cape Corbelin. They stand out from a prevailing background of +the familiar forest trees of temperate Europe and America--the ash, elm, +beech, oak, fir and walnut. The orchards, above those of oranges and +lemons, are of figs and olives. The cork-oak covers considerable tracts, +but is less attended to than in Spain. A non-European aspect is imparted by +the tufts of cactus and aloes which abound in the most arid localities. + +[Illustration: THE DJURJURA RANGE.] + +Wherever intelligent farming is met with in Northern Africa it is a safe +assertion that the Kabyles are either on the spot or not far off. Like +other farmers, they are conservative and adhere to old rules or fancies, +which in some cases verge upon superstition. The practice of fertilizing +fig trees by hanging them with fruits of the wild fig is one of those which +it is difficult to class--whether with the visionary or the practical. Be +that as it may, people who know nothing about figs except to eat them have +no right to a say in the matter. Tradition and experience are in favor of +the Kabyle. He does what has been done since Aristotle, Theophrastus and +Pliny, all of whom insist on "caprification" as essential to a large crop +of figs adapted to drying. He will go or send many miles to procure the +wild fruit if it does not grow in his neighborhood, and the traffic in it +reaches a value of some thousands of dollars annually, trains of thirty, +fifty and sixty mule-loads passing from one tribe to another. As with other +valuable things, this inedible fruit is food for quarrelling. The tribe +which is rich in the _dokhar_, or wild fig, is fortunate, and especially so +if its neighbors have none or if their crop of it fails. It is then able to +"bull the market," and proceeds to do so with a promptness and vim that +would turn a Wall street operator blue with envy. But it is compelled to +take account of troubles in its path unknown at the Board. The party who is +"short" on dokhar may be "long" on matchlocks. If so, the speculation is +apt to come to an unhappy end. A sudden raid will capture the stock and at +once equalize the market. To many communities figs are at once meat and +pocket-money. To lose the harvest is not to be thought of. The aspect of +the means of preventing such a disaster is altogether a secondary +consideration. Dokhar at all hazards is the cry of men, women and children. +The comparative cessation of fig-wars is one of the blessings due to French +rule. + +[Illustration: ROAD ACROSS THE DJURJURA AT MOUNT TIROURDA.] + +What we deem the fruit of the fig is, it will be remembered, only the husk, +the apparent seeds being the true fruit and--before ripening--the blossom. +A small fly establishes itself in the interior of the wild fig, escaping in +great numbers when the fruit is ripe. This happens before the ripening of +the improved fig, and the fly is supposed to carry the wild pollen to the +flowers of the latter. A single insect, say the Kabyles, will perfect +ninety-nine figs, the hundredth becoming its tomb. Some varieties of figs +do not need caprification, but they are said to be unsuitable for drying or +shipment. + +The Italian practice of touching the eye of each fig, while yet on the +tree, with a drop of olive oil seems opposed to the African plan; since the +oil would certainly exclude the insect. And there are no better figs in the +world than those of the Southern States of the Union, which are not +treated in either way, and receive the least possible cultivation of any +kind. Those States, if it be true that the difference in the yield of a +"caprified" and non-caprified tree is that between two hundred and eighty +and twenty-five pounds, cannot do better than borrow a leaf from the Kabyle +book, should it only be a fig-leaf to aid in clothing the nakedness of bare +sands and galled hillsides. The United States Department of Agriculture +should by all means introduce the dokhar. Some of our agricultural +machinery would be an exchange in the highest degree beneficial to the +other side. + +[Illustration: THE PEAK OF TIROURDA.] + +Long before the French occupation the Kabyles had maintained a regulation +which is, we believe, peculiar in Europe to France--the _ban_, or +legally-established day for the beginning of the vintage and the harvest of +other fruits. The cultivator may repose under his own vine and fig tree, +but he shall not until the word is given by the proper authority put forth +his hand to pluck its luscious boon, though perfectly mature or past +maturity. Exceptions are made in case of invalids and distinguished guests, +and doubtless the hale schoolboy decrees an occasional dispensation in his +own favor. The birds share his defiance of the law, and both are abetted by +a third group of transgressors, the monkeys. + +Africans of this last-named race are in some localities extremely numerous, +and they do not restrict their foraging parties to succulent food. Grain +is very acceptable to them, and has the advantage of keeping better than +fruit, the art of drying which they have not yet mastered any more than the +Bushmen or the Pi-Utes. They establish granaries in the crevices of the +rocks; and these reserves of provision are sometimes of such magnitude as +to make exploring expeditions on the part of the plundered Kabyles quite +remunerative. + +[Illustration: DJEMA-SAHRIDJ.] + +These most ancient of all the devastators which have successively descended +upon Barbary are baboons of small size. They have no tails, that ancestral +organ having dwindled to a wart the size of a pea. This approach to the +form of man is aided by another point of personal resemblance--long +whiskers. That the tail should have been worn off against the rocks, or in +climbing the fences to get at orchards and melon-patches, is easily +conceivable. How the evolutionists account for the retention of the beard +does not yet appear. The females carry their young as adroitly and +carefully as do the Kabyle women, and ascend the rocks with them with much +greater activity. A young monkey has a less neglected look than a young +Kabyle. His ablutions cannot be less frequent. Tourists complain that all +Kabylia does not boast a single bath-house--a privation the more striking +to one who has to pick his way often for miles among the ruins of Roman +aqueducts, tanks and baths, the great basin in cut stone at Djema-Sahridj, +which gives name to the place, being a noted example of these works. + +[Illustration: A DISH-FACTORY.] + +As the vultures, dogs, negroes, Jews and jackals keep exact memoranda of +the market-days, so the baboons are always on hand at harvest. Ranged in +long ranks on an amphitheatre of cliffs, stroking gravely their long white +beards like so many reverend _episcopi_ or "on-lookers" confident of their +tithes, they calmly contemplate the toilers in the vale below. Swift was +not more certain of his "tithe-pig and mortuary guinea." Sunset comes +sooner below than above. The reapers are early home, and the peaks are +still purple when the marauders pour down upon the fields, and their share +of the work is done with a neatness unsurpassable by reiver, ritter or +kateran. The monkey-tax thus collected is quite a calculable percentage of +the crop, and few taxes are more regularly paid. As it goes to +non-producers, its reduction is an object constantly kept in view. The +wretched guns of the natives are, however, but a feeble instrument of +reform. The chassepot may succeed after having finished the rest of its +task, and dispose of the baboons after the settlement of the men. The +former, though not incomparably smaller than the French conscript after a +protracted war, will never be made to bear arms. He is therefore useless to +modern statesmen, and needs to be got rid of. + +While the barn is defrauded by these little vegetarians, the barnyard is +laid under tribute by a family of equally unauthorized flesh-eaters--the +panthers. If this large spotted cat, known in other parts of the world as +ounce, jaguar, leopard and chetah, has any choice of diet, it is for veal. +But his appreciation of kid is none the less lively. Lamb, in season, comes +well to him also. As there are many panthers, each of them of "unbounded +stomach," and they can find little to eat in the way of wild quadrupeds, +the destruction they must cause among domestic animals is seen to be +serious. In the Mokuéa neighborhood each village has its panther-killer, an +enterprising man set apart for a profession which sometimes becomes +hereditary. One of these boasts of having killed thirty-six panthers. His +father before him had bagged seventy-five, and he hoped before pulling his +final trigger to have done as well. This expectation was a just one, as at +twenty-eight he had already nearly halved the paternal count. The method of +hunting is very simple. The sportsman fixes a bleating little victim from +the herd at the foot of a tree, and climbs with his flint gun into the +branches. Had the North African beast the arboreal habits of the South +African tree-leopard or the American jaguar, this proceeding would be less +effectual with him. But he can neither climb nor reflect like his +countryman the monkey, and is picked off like a beef. One finds it +difficult to get up sympathy for an animal so little able to take care of +himself, or to suppose that panthers could have furnished a particularly +high-spiced ingredient to the enjoyments of the Roman arena. An English +bull-dog, if less picturesque, would have been far more fruitful of +fighting. + +Products edible neither to the wild beast nor the tooth of time are the +Kabyle vases in clay. The amphorę in common use by the women for carrying +water are generally of graceful forms, comparing well in design with many +of the archaic vases of Greece and the Levant. The patterns vary somewhat +with the locality, but there is a resemblance which speaks of a common +origin and taste. Those of the Beni-Raten all come to a blunt point at the +bottom, and will not stand unsupported. The jar is made to rest upon the +girdle of the bearer, while she supports it upon her back by one or both of +the handles. Among the tribes nearer the Djurjura the jar has a broader and +hollowed bottom, fitted to rest upon the head of the woman. It must +therefore be less elongated and more rotund to admit of her reaching the +handles for the purpose of balancing it. These jars weigh, filled with +water, sixty pounds. In carrying one of them a Kabyle woman, it may easily +be supposed, is not in a condition to study lightness of step or grace of +carriage. Yet this heavy task, to which she begins to accustom herself at +the age of twelve, does not appear to injure her figure or health. Such a +result is more often due to violent and exceptional strains than to +habitual exertion even greater in extent. The muscles are not less +susceptible of education than the mind. Whatever brings out the full power +of either without suddenly overtasking is healthy and beneficial. + +It has been remarked that the most usual size of the Kabyle water-jar is as +nearly as possible identical with the amphora kept for a standard measure +in the Capitol at Rome. This coincidence may well be due rather to a +correspondence in the average strength of the carriers than to a common +system of authorized measures. In decoration the Kabyle vases approach the +Arabic more than the Roman style. But the feeling, both in form and +coloring, is decidedly more artistic than in the similar ware of Northern +Europe. + +Very ancient influences are manifest, too, in the work of the Kabyle +silversmiths. Their diadems, ear-drops, bracelets and anklets remind one +of the forms unearthed at Hissarlik and in Cyprus. In outline and chasing +the rectangular, mathematical and monumental rules at the expense of the +flowing and floriated. A certain pre-Phidian stiffness of handling seems to +hamper the workman, as though twenty-three hundred years had been lost for +him. + +[Illustration: THE BOUDOIR AND KITCHEN.] + +That there should be so much of hopeful force left in the Kabyle, artisan, +agriculturist or adventurer, is creditable to him, and suggests "an +original glory not yet lost." He obstinately refuses to accept the sheer +professional vagabondism of the Arab, confident, as it were, that the world +has in reserve better use for him than that. "Day-dawn in Africa" will +probably gild his hills sooner than the tufted swamps of Guinea or the +slimy huts of the Nile. A class of missionaries quite different from the +Livingstones and the Moffatts have devoted themselves to his improvement. +They approach him in a different way, and begin on his commercial and +industrial side, not on the spiritual. The latter does not appear to be by +any means so accessible. Unlike the Ashantees, the Kafirs and the M'pongwe, +he was a Christian once, and may become one again. But he is not going to +be evangelized on the hurrah system; and that fact his new rulers, with all +their alleged defects as reformers and colonizers, have sense enough to +recognize. The new faith must push its way in the rear of works. Peace, +good government, good roads, better implements and methods of labor will +promote the enlightenment necessary to its success. + +Bougie, the port of Eastern Kabylia, lying under Cape Carbon, has one +Catholic church, standing in the midst of new streets, squares and public +constructions indicative of prosperity wrought by the French régime. It is +still in need of easy communication with the interior, having but one +road--one more than in the time of the Turks. Wax is the chief commodity +traversing that line of traffic. That circumstance has, however, nothing to +do with the name of the town. The name was there when the French came, as +was the wax, and very little else but ruins. If the present state of +improvement has been effected with so little aid from good roads, what +would not a number of them accomplish? A railway running to the other end +of the province longitudinally through its centre would have but one ridge +to overcome, and would find a very fair business ready for it. The railway +and vandalism, in the proverbial sense of the word, could not coexist. +When the Vandals buy railway-tickets and ship fat oxen on fast stock-trains +the African world will move. Nobody ever heard of chronic war between two +adjacent railroad-stations, or of a gang of raiders dressed only in shirts +and armed with spears and matchlocks going out on the morning mail for a +day's shooting among their fellow-countrymen in the next county. + +Let us quote a sketch of the region lying a few leagues west and north-west +of Bougie: + +"Near Tarourt we found thermal springs. An open park-like country, +beautiful with trees and turf, is defaced only by charred spots where the +cork-woods have been burned by the natives to effect clearings much less in +extent than the space thus denuded. Ten acres of cork trees will be +thoughtlessly burned to make one of fig-orchard. And this evil rather +increases than lessens, prevention being difficult by reason of the want of +good roads for reaching the delinquents.... In six hours' march we reached +Toudja, at the foot of Mount Arbalon, in the most delicious oasis +imaginable. The soil, threaded by clear and cool rivulets which spring in +abundance from the rocks forming the base of the mountain, is wonderfully +fertile. We are surrounded by more than a square league of tufted verdure, +composed in great part of orange and lemon groves, mingled with some palms +and immense carob trees. The houses are well built, and even show fancy in +their designs. Vines bending with enormous clusters of grapes festoon +themselves from tree to tree, tasselling the topmost branches with fruit +and tendrils. It is not uncommon to see four or five large trees taken +possession of by a single vine, its trunk as large as the body of a man. +The grapes are mostly of a light-red color, large and sweet." + +[Illustration: REPOSE.] + +All this indicates that France did not deceive herself as to the +capabilities of Algeria, and that her conquest of it was inspired by +considerations more solid than the glory she has been accused of +recognizing as an all-sufficient motive. She has made the country much +more valuable to the commerce of the world than any other part of Barbary. +Had she done nothing more with it than hold it prostrate and put an end to +its existence as a den of pirates, she would by that alone have earned the +gratitude of the nations. She has done a great deal more. European +civilization has discovered a penetrable spot in the dense armor of +African barbarism. It has effected a lodgment in the darkest and most +hopeless of the continents. Should the movement fail, like so many before +it, to extend itself, and become localized after a period of promise, the +cause must be sought mainly in natural obstacles almost impossible to be +overcome. + +To have lifted the dead, brutal weight of Ottoman tyranny from any corner +of the broad territory it blasts is to deserve well of humanity. Still +stronger is the case when the rescued territory is fertile, beautiful, and +inhabited by a race worthy of a better fate than the bondage against which +it had never ceased to struggle. + +France has not been guiltless of acts of severity, always attendant, in a +greater or less degree, on violent political changes. It is not doubtful, +nevertheless, that by repressing the endless turbulence of the tribes and +driving out a foreign rule that knew no law but force, she has saved many +more lives than she has taken. A genius for organization was never denied +her. Organization was the first thing wanted in Algeria. + +EDWARD C. BRUCE. + + + + +"FOR PERCIVAL." + +CHAPTER I. + +THORNS AND ROSES. + + +It was a long, narrow and rather low room, with four windows looking out on +a terrace. Jasmine and roses clustered round them, and flowers lifted their +heads to the broad sills. Within, the lighted candles showed furniture that +was perhaps a little faded and dim, though it had a slender, old-fashioned +grace which more than made amends for any beauty it had lost. There was +much old china, and on the walls were a few family portraits, of which +their owner was justly proud; and in the air there lingered a faint +fragrance of dried rose-leaves, delicate yet unconquerable. Even the full +tide of midsummer sweetness which flowed through the open windows could not +altogether overcome that subtle memory of summers long gone by. + +The master of the house, with a face like a wrinkled waxen mask, sat in his +easy-chair reading the _Saturday Review_, and a lady very like him, only +with a little more color and fulness, was knitting close by. The light +shone on the old man's pale face and white hair, on the old lady's +silver-gray dress and flashing rings: the knitting-pins clicked, working up +the crimson wool, and the pages of the paper rustled with a pleasant +crispness as they were turned. By the window, where the candlelight faded +into the soft shadows, stood a young man apparently lost in thought. His +face, which was turned a little toward the garden, was a noteworthy one +with its straight forehead and clearly marked, level brows. His features +were good, and his clear olive complexion gave him something of a foreign +air. He had no beard, and his moustache was only a dark shadow on his upper +lip, so that his mouth stood revealed as one which indicated reserve, +though it was neither stern nor thin-lipped. Altogether, it was a pleasant +face. + +A light step sauntering along the terrace, a low voice softly singing +"Drink to Me only with Thine Eyes," roused him from his reverie. He did not +move, but his mouth and eyes relaxed into a smile as a white figure came +out of the dusk exactly opposite his window, and singer and song stopped +together. "Oh, Percival! I didn't know you had come out of the +dining-room." + +"Twenty minutes ago. What have you been doing?" + +"Wandering about the garden. What could I do on such a perfect night but +what I have been doing all this perfect day?" + +She stood looking up at him as she spoke. She had an arch, beautiful +face--the sort of face which would look well with patches and powder. Only +it would have been a sin to powder the hair, which, though deep brown, had +rich touches of gold, as if a happy sunbeam were imprisoned in its waves. +Her eyes were dark, her lips were softly red: everything about Sissy +Langton's face was delicate and fine. She lifted her hand to reach a spray +of jasmine just above her head, and the lace sleeve above fell back from +her pretty, slender wrist: "Give it to me. Percival! do you hear? Oh, what +a tease you are!" For he drew it back when she would have gathered it. Mrs. +Middleton was heard making a remark inside. + +"You don't deserve it," said Percival. "Here is my aunt saying that the hot +weather makes you scandalously idle." + +"Scandalously idle! Aunt Harriet!" Sissy repeated it in incredulous +amusement, and the old lady's indignant disclaimer was heard: "Percival! +Most unusually idle, I said." + +"Oh! most unusually idle? I beg your pardon. But doesn't that imply a +considerable amount of idleness to be got through by one person?" + +"Yes, but you helped me," said Sissy.--"Aunt Harriet, listen. He stood on +my thimble ever so long while he was talking this afternoon. How can I work +without a thimble?" + +"Impossible!" said Percival. "And I don't think I can get you another +to-morrow: I am going out. On Thursday I shall come back and bring you one +that won't fit. Friday you must go with me to change it. Yes, we shall +manage three days' holiday very nicely." + +"Nonsense! But it _is_ your fault if I am idle." + +"Why, yes. Having no thimble, you are naturally unable to finish your book, +for instance." + +"Oh, I sha'n't finish that: I don't like it. The heroine is so dreadfully +strong-minded I don't believe in her. She never does anything wrong; and +though she suffers tortures--absolute agony, you know--she always rises to +the occasion--nasty thing!" + +"A wonderful woman," said Percival, idly picking sprays of jasmine as he +spoke. + +Sissy's voice sank lower: "Do you think there are really any women like +that?" + +"Oh yes, I suppose so." + +She took the flowers which he held out, and looked doubtfully into his +face: "But--do you _like_ them, Percival?" + +"Make the question a little clearer," he said. "I don't like your ranting, +pushing, unwomanly women who can talk of nothing but their rights. They are +very terrible. But heroic women--" He stopped short. The pause was more +eloquent than speech. + +"Ah!" said Sissy, "Well--a woman like Jael? or Judith?" + +He repeated the name "Judith." "Or Charlotte Corday?" he suggested after a +moment. + +It was Sissy's turn to hesitate, and she compressed her pretty lips +doubtfully. Being in the Old Testament, Jael must of course come out all +right, even if one finds it difficult to like her. Judith's position, is +less clear. Still, it is a great thing to be in the Apocrypha, and then +living so long ago and so far away makes a difference. But Charlotte +Corday--a young Frenchwoman, not a century dead, who murdered a man, and +was guillotined in those horrible revolutionary times,--would Percival say +_that_ was the type of woman he liked? + +"Well--Charlotte Corday, then?" + +"Yes, I admire her," he said slowly. "Though I would rather the heroism did +not show itself in bloodshed. Still, she was noble: I honor her. I dare say +the others were too, but I don't know so much about them." + +"What a poor little thing you must think me!" said Sissy. "I could never do +anything heroic." + +"Why not?" + +"I should be frightened. I can't bear people to be angry with me. I should +run away, or do something silly." + +"Then I hope you won't be tried," said Percival. + +She shook her pretty head: "People always talk about casting gold into the +furnace, and it's coming out only the brighter and better. Things are not +good for much if you would rather they were not tried." + +Her hand was on the window-frame as she spoke, and the young man touched a +ring she wore: "Gold is tried in the furnace--yes, but not your pearls. +Besides, I'm not so sure that you would fail if you were put to the test." + +She smiled, well pleased, yet unconvinced. + +"You think," he went on, "that people who did great deeds did them without +an effort--were always ready, like a bow always strung? No, no, Sissy: they +felt very weak sometimes. Isn't there anything in the world you think you +could die for? Even if you say 'No' now, there may be something one of +these days." + +The twilight hid the soft glow which overspread her face. "Anything in the +world you could die for?" Anything? Anybody? Her blood flowed in a strong, +courageous current as her heart made answer, "Yes--for one." + +But she did not speak, and after a moment her companion changed the +subject. "That's a pretty ring," he said. + +Sissy started from her reverie: "Horace gave it me. Adieu, Mr. Percival +Thorne: I'm going to look at my roses." + +"Thank you. Yes, I shall be delighted to come." And Percival jumped out. +"Don't look at me as if I'd said something foolish. Isn't that the right +way to answer your kind invitation?" + +"Invitation! What next?" demanded Sissy with pretty scorn. And the pair +went off together along the terrace and into the fragrant dusk. + +A minute later it occurred to Mrs. Middleton to fear that Sissy might take +cold, and she went to the window to look after her. But, as no one was to +be seen, she turned away and encountered her brother, who had been watching +them too. "Do they care for each other?" he asked abruptly. + +"How can I tell?" Mrs. Middleton replied. "Of course she is fond of him in +a way, but I can't help fancying sometimes that Horace--" + +"Horace!" Mr. Thorne's smile was singularly bland. "Oh, indeed! Horace--a +charming arrangement! Pray how many more times is Mr. Horace to supplant +that poor boy?" His soft voice changed suddenly, as one might draw a sword +from its sheath. "Horace had better not cross Percival's path, or he will +have to deal with me. Is he not content? What next must he have?" + +Mrs. Middleton paused. She could have answered him. There was an obvious +reply, but it was too crushing to be used, and Mr. Thorne braved it +accordingly. + +"Better leave your grandsons alone, Godfrey," she said at last, "if you'll +take my advice; which I don't think you ever did yet. You'll only make +mischief. And there is Sissy to be considered. Let the child choose for +herself." + +"And you think she can choose--_Horace?_" + +"Why not?" + +"Choose Horace rather than Percival?" + +"I should," said the old lady with smiling audacity. "And I would rather +she did. Horace's position is better." + +Mr. Thorne uttered something akin to a grunt, which might by courtesy be +taken for a groan: "Oh, how mercenary you women are! Well, if you marry a +man for his money, Horace has the best of it--if he behaves himself. Yes, I +admit that--_if he behaves himself_"' + +"And Horace is handsomer," said Mrs. Middleton with a smile. + +"Pink-and-white prettiness!" scoffed Mr. Thorne. + +"Nonsense!" The color mounted to the old lady's forehead, and she spoke +sharply: "We didn't hear anything about that when he was a lad, and we were +afraid of something amiss with his lungs: it would have been high treason +to say a syllable against him then. And now, though I suppose he will +always be a little delicate (you'd be sorry if you lost him, Godfrey), it's +a shame to talk as if the boys were not to be compared. They are just of a +height, not half an inch difference, and the one as brave and manly as the +other. Horace is fair, and Percival is dark; and you know, as well as I do, +that Horace is the handsomer." + +Mr. Thorne shifted his ground: "If I were Sissy I would choose my husband +for qualities that are rather more than skin-deep." + +"By all means. And still I would choose Horace." + +"What is amiss with Percival?" + +"He is not so frank and open. I don't want to say anything against him--I +like Percival--but I wish he were not quite so reserved." + +"What next?" said Mr. Thorne with a short laugh. "Why, only this morning +you said he talked more than Horace." + +"Talked? Oh yes, Percival can talk, and about himself too," said Mrs. +Middleton with a smile. "But he can keep his secrets all the time. I don't +want to say anything against him: I like him very much--" + +"No doubt," said Mr. Thorne. + +"But I don't feel quite sure that I know him. He isn't like Horace. You +know Horace's friends--" + +"Trust me for that." + +"But what do you know of Percival's? I heard him tell Sissy he would be out +to-morrow. Will you ever know where he went?" + +"I sha'n't ask him." + +"No," she retorted, "you dare not! Isn't it a rule that no one is ever to +question Percival?" + +"And while I'm master here it shall be obeyed. It's the least I can do. The +boy shall come and go, speak or hold his tongue, as he pleases. No one +shall cross him--Horace least of all--while I'm master here, Harriet; but +that won't be very long." + +"I don't want you to think any harm of Percival's silence," she answered +gently. "I don't for one moment suppose he has any secrets to be ashamed +of. I myself like people to be open, that is all." + +"If I wanted to know anything Percival would tell me," said Mr. Thorne. + +Mrs. Middleton's charity was great. She hid the smile she could not +repress. "Well," she said, "perhaps I am not fair to Percival, but, +Godfrey, you are not quite just to Horace." + +He turned upon her: "Unjust to Horace? _I?_" + +She knew what he meant. He had shown Horace signal favor, far above his +cousin, yet what she had said was true. Perhaps some of the injustice had +been in this very favor. "Here are our truants!" she exclaimed. She and her +brother had not talked so confidentially for years, but the moment her eyes +fell on Sissy her thoughts went back to the point at which Mr. Thorne had +disturbed them: "My dearest Sissy, I am so afraid you will catch cold." + +"It can't be done to-night," said Percival. "Won't you come and try?" But +the old lady shook her head. + +"All right, auntie! we won't stop out," said Sissy; and a moment later she +made her appearance in the drawing-room with her hands full of roses, which +she tossed carelessly on the table. Mr. Thorne had picked up his paper, and +stood turning the pages and pretending to read, but she pushed it aside to +put a rosebud in his coat. + +"Roses are more fit for you young people than for an old fellow like me," +he said, "Why don't you give one to Percival?" + +She looked over her shoulder at young Thorne. "Do you want one?" she said. + +He smiled, with a slight movement of his head and his dark eyes fixed on +hers. + +"Then, why didn't you pick one when we were out? Now, weren't you foolish? +Well, never mind. What color?" + +"Choose for him," said Mr. Thorne. + +Sissy hesitated, looking from Percival's face to a bud of deepest crimson. +Then, throwing it down, "No, you shall have yellow," she exclaimed: "Laura +Falconer's complexion is something like yours, and she always wears yellow. +As soon as one yellow dress is worn out she gets another." + +"She is a most remarkable young woman if she waits till the first one is +worn out," said Percival. + +"Am I to put your rose in or not?" Sissy demanded. + +He stepped forward with a smile, and looked darkly handsome as he stood +there with Sissy putting the yellow rose in his coat and glancing archly up +at him. + +Mr. Thorne from behind his _Saturday Review_ watched the girl who might, +perhaps, hold his favorite's future in her hands. "Does he care for her?" +he wondered. If he did, the old man felt that he would gladly have knelt to +entreat her, "Be good to my poor Percival." But did Percival want her to be +good to him? Godfrey Thorne was altogether in the dark about his grandson's +wishes in the matter. He tried hard not to think that he was in the dark +about every wish or hope of Percival's, and he looked up eagerly when the +latter said something about going out the next day. He remembered which +horse Percival liked, he assented to everything, but he watched him all the +time with a wistful curiosity. He did not really care where Percival went, +but he would have given much for such a word about his plans as would have +proved to Harriet, and to himself too, that his boy _did_ confide in him +sometimes. It was not to be, however. Young Thorne had taken up the local +paper and the subject dropped. Mr. Thorne may have guessed later, but he +never knew where his roan horse went the next day. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +"THOSE EYES OF YOURS." + + +Not five miles away that same evening a conversation was going on which +would have interested Mrs. Middleton. + +The scene was an up-stairs room in a pleasant house near the county town. +Mrs. Blake, a woman of seven or eight and forty, handsome and well +preserved, but of a high-colored type, leant back in an easy-chair lazily +unfastening her bracelets, by way of signifying that she had begun to +prepare for the night. Her two daughters were with her. Addie, the elder, +was at the looking-glass brushing her hair and half enveloped in its silky +blackness. She was a tall, graceful girl, a refined likeness of her mother. +On the rug lay Lottie, three years younger, hardly more than a growing +girl, long-limbed, slight, a little abrupt and angular by her sister's +side, her features not quite so regular, her face paler in its cloud of +dark hair. Yet there was a look of determination and power which was +wanting in Addie; and at times, when Lottie was roused, her eyes had a dark +splendor which made her sister's beauty seem comparatively commonplace and +tame. + +Stretched at full length, she propped her chin on her hands and looked up +at her mother. "I don't suppose you care," she said, in a clear, almost +boyish voice. + +"Not much," Mrs. Blake replied with, a smile. "Especially as I rather doubt +it." + +Addie paused, brush in hand: "I really think you've made a mistake, +Lottie." + +"Do you really? I haven't, though," said that young lady decidedly. + +"It can't be--surely," Addie hesitated, with a little shadow on her face. + +"Of course no. Is it likely?" said Mrs. Blake, as if the discussion were +closed. + +"I tell you," said Lottie stubbornly, "Godfrey Hammond told me that +Percival's father was the eldest son." + +"But it is Horace who has always lived at Brackenhill. Percival only goes +on a visit now and then. Every one knows," said Addie, in almost an injured +tone, "that Horace is the heir." + +Lottie raised her head a little and eyed her sister intently, with +amusement, wonder, and a little scorn in her glance. Addie, blissfully +unconscious, went on brushing her hair, still with that look of anxious +perplexity. + +"This is how it was," Lottie exclaimed suddenly. "Percival was just gone, +and you were talking to Horace. Up comes Godfrey Hammond, sits down by me, +and says some rubbish about consoling me. I think I laughed. Then he looked +at me out of his little, light eyes, and said that you and I seemed to get +on well with his young friends. So I said, 'Oh yes--middling.'" + +"Upon my word," smiled Mrs. Blake, "you appear to have distinguished +yourself in the conversation." + +"Didn't I?" said Lottie, untroubled and unabashed: "I know it struck me so +at the time. Then he said something--I forget how he put it--about our +being just the right number and pairing off charmingly. So I said, 'Oh, of +course the elder ones went together: that was only right.'" + +"And what did he say?" + +"Oh, he pinched his lips together and smiled, and said, 'Don't you know +that Percival is the elder?'" + +"But, Lottie, that proves nothing as to his father." + +"Who supposed it did? I said 'Fiddlededee! I didn't mean that: I supposed +they were much about the same age, or if Percy were a month or two older it +made no difference. I meant that Horace was the eldest son's son, so of +course he was A 1.'" + +"Well?" said Addie. + +"Well, then he looked twice as pleased with himself as he did before, and +said, 'I don't think Horace told you that. It so happens that Percival is +not only the elder by a month or two, as you say, but he is the son of the +eldest son.' Then I said 'Oh!' and mamma called me for something, and I +went." + +Mrs. Blake and Addie exchanged glances. + +"Now, could I have made a mistake?" demanded Lottie. + +"It seems plain enough, certainly," her mother allowed. + +"Then, could Godfrey Hammond have made a mistake? Hasn't he known the +Thornes all their lives? and didn't he say once that he was named Godfrey +after their old grandfather?" + +Mrs. Blake assented. + +"Then," said the girl, relapsing into her recumbent position, "perhaps +you'll believe me another time." + +"Perhaps," said Mrs. Blake: "we'll see when the other time comes. If it is +as you say, it is curious." She rose as she spoke and went to the farther +end of the room. As she stood by an open drawer putting away the ornaments +which she had taken off, the candlelight revealed a shadow of perplexity +on her face which increased the likeness between herself and Addie. +Apparently, Lottie was right as to her facts. The estate was not entailed, +then, and despotic power seemed to be rather capriciously exercised by the +head of the house. If Horace should displease his grandfather--if, for +instance, he chose a wife of whom old Mr. Thorne did not approve--would his +position be very secure? Mrs. Blake was uneasy, and felt that it was very +wrong of people to play tricks with the succession to an estate like +Brackenhill. + +Meanwhile, Lottie watched her sister, who was thoughtfully drawing her +fingers through her long hair. "Addie," she said, after a pause, "what will +you do if Horace isn't the heir after all?" + +"What a silly question! I shan't do anything: there's nothing for me to +do." + +"But shall you mind very much? You are very fond of Horace, aren't you?" + +"Fond of him!" Addie repeated. "He is very pleasant to talk to, if you mean +that." + +"Oh, you can't deceive me so! I believe that you are in love with him," +said Lottie solemnly. + +The color rushed to Addie's face when her vaguely tender sentiments, +indefinite as Horace's attentions, were described in this startling +fashion. "Indeed, I'm nothing of the kind," she said hurriedly. "Pray don't +talk such utter nonsense, Lottie. If you have nothing more sensible to say, +you had better hold your tongue." + +"But why are you ashamed of it?" Lottie persisted: "I wouldn't be." She had +an unsuspected secret herself, but she would have owned it proudly enough +had she been challenged. + +"I'm not ashamed," said Addie; "and you know nothing about being in love, +so you had better not talk about it." + +"Oh yes, I do!" was the reply, uttered with Lottie's calm simplicity of +manner: "I know how to tell whether you are in love or not, Addie. What +would you do if a girl were to win Horace Thorne away from you?" + +Pride and a sense of propriety dictated Addie's answer and gave sharpness +to her voice: "I should say she was perfectly welcome to him." + +Lottie considered for a moment: "Yes, I suppose one might _say_ so to her, +but what would you do? Wouldn't you want to kill her? And wouldn't you die +of a broken heart?" + +Addie was horrified: "I don't want to kill anybody, and I'm not going to +die for Mr. Horace Thorne. Please don't say such things, Lottie: people +never do. You forget he is only an acquaintance." + +"No; I don't think you are in love with him, certainly." Lottie pronounced +this decision with the air of one who has solved a difficult problem. + +"What are you talking about?" Mrs. Blake inquired, coming back, and +glancing from Addie's flushed and troubled face to Lottie's thoughtful +eyes. + +"I was asking Addie if she didn't want Horace to be the heir. I know you +do, mamma--oh, just for his own sake, because you think he's the nicest, +don't you? I heard you tell him one day "--here Lottie looked up with a +candid gaze and audaciously imitated Mrs. Blake's manner--"that though we +knew his cousin _first_, he--Horace, you know--seemed to drop _so_ +naturally into _all_ our ways that it was quite _delightful_ to feel that +we needn't stand on _any_ ceremony with him." + +"Good gracious, Lottie! what do you mean by listening to every word I say?" + +"I didn't listen--I heard," said Lottie. "I always do hear when you say +your words as if they had little dashes under them." + +"Well, Horace Thorne _is_ easier to get on with than his cousin," said Mrs. +Blake, taking no notice of Lottie's mimicry. + +"There, I said so: mamma would like it to be Horace. Nobody asks what I +should like--nobody thinks about me and Percival." + +"Oh, indeed! I wasn't aware," said Mrs. Blake. "When is that to come off? I +dare say you will look very well in orange-blossoms and a pinafore!" + +"Oh, you think I'm too young, do you? But a little while ago you were +always saying that I was grown up, and oughtn't to want any more childish +games. What was I to do?" + +"Upon my word!" exclaimed Mrs. Blake. "I'll buy you a doll for a birthday +present, to keep you out of mischief." + +"Too late," said Lottie from the rug. She burst into sudden laughter, loud +but not unmelodious. "What rubbish we are talking! Seventeen to-morrow, and +Addie is nearly twenty; and sometimes I think I must be a hundred!" + +"Well, you are talking nonsense now," Mrs. Blake exclaimed. "Why, you baby! +only last November you would go into that wet meadow by the rectory to play +trap-and-ball with Robin and Jack. And such a fuss as there was if one +wanted to make you the least tidy and respectable!" + +"Was that last November?" Lottie stared thoughtfully into space. "Queer +that last November should be so many years ago, isn't it? Poor little Cock +Robin! I met him in the lane the day before he went away. They will keep +him in jackets, and he hates them so! I laughed at him, and told him to be +a good little boy and mind his book. He didn't seem to like it, somehow." + +"I dare say he didn't," said Addie, who had been silently recovering +herself: "there's no mistake about it when you laugh at any one." + +"There shall be no mistake about anything I do," Lottie asserted. "I'm +going to bed now." She sprang to her feet and stood looking at her sister: +"What jolly hair you've got, Addie!" + +"Yours is just as thick, or thicker," said Addie. + +"Each individual hair is a good deal thicker, if you mean that. +'Blue-black, lustrous, thick like horse-hairs!' That's what Percy quoted to +me one day when I was grumbling, and I said I wasn't sure he wasn't rude. +Addie, are Horace and Percival fond of each other?" + +"How can I tell? I suppose so." + +"I have my doubts," said Lottie sagely. "Why should they be? There must be +something queer, you know, or why doesn't that stupid old man at +Brackenhill treat Percival as the eldest? Well, good-night." And Lottie +went off, half saying, half singing, "Who killed Cock Robin? I, said the +Sparrow--with my bow and arrow." And with a triumphant outburst of "_I_ +killed Cock Robin!" she banged the door after her. + +There was a pause. Then Addie said, "Seventeen to-morrow! Mamma, Lottie +really is grown-up now." + +"Is she?" Mrs. Blake replied doubtfully. "Time she should be, I'm sure." + +Lottie had been a sore trial to her mother. Addie was pretty as a child, +tolerably presentable even at her most awkward age, glided gradually into +girlhood and beauty, and finally "came out" completely to Mrs. Blake's +satisfaction. But Lottie at fifteen or sixteen was her despair--"Exactly +like a great unruly boy," she lamented. She dashed through her lessons +fairly well, but the moment she was released she was unendurable. She +whistled, she sang at the top of her voice, and plunged about the house in +her thick boots, till she could be off to join the two boys at the rectory, +her dear friends and comrades. Robin Wingfield, the elder, was her junior +by rather more than a year; and this advantage, especially as she was tall +and strong for her age, enabled her fully to hold her own with them. Nor +could Mrs. Blake hinder this friendship, as she would gladly have done, for +her husband was on Lottie's side. + +"Let the girl alone," he said. "Too big for this sort of thing? Rubbish! +The milliner's bills will come in quite soon enough. And what's amiss with +Robin and Jack? Good boys as boys go, and she's another; and if they like +to scramble over hedges and ditches together, let them. For Heaven's sake, +Caroline, don't attempt to keep her at home: she'll certainly drive me +crazy if you do. No one ever banged doors as Lottie does: she ought to +patent the process. Slams them with a crash which jars the whole house, and +yet manages not to latch them, and the moment she is gone they are swinging +backward and forward till I'm almost out of my senses. Here she comes down +stairs, like a thunderbolt.--Lottie, my dear girl, I'm sure it's going to +be fine: better run out and look up those Wingfield boys, I think." + +So the trio spent long half-holidays rambling in the fields; and on these +occasions Lottie might be met, an immense distance from home, in the +shabbiest clothes and wearing a red cap of Robin's tossed carelessly on her +dark hair. Percival once encountered them on one of these expeditions. +Lottie's beauty was still pale and unripe, like those sheathed buds which +will come suddenly to their glory of blossom, not like rosebuds which have +a loveliness of their own; but the young man was struck by the boyish +mixture of shyness and bluntness with which she greeted him, and attracted +by the great eyes which gazed at him from under Robin's shabby cap. When he +and Horace went to the Blakes' he amused himself idly enough with the +school-girl, while his cousin flirted with Addie. He laughed one day when +Mrs. Blake was unusually troubled about Lottie's apparel, and said +something about "a sweet neglect." But the soul of Lottie's mamma was not +to be comforted with scraps of poetry. How could it be, when she had just +arraigned her daughter on the charge of having her pockets bulging +hideously, and had discovered that those receptacles overflowed with a +miscellaneous assortment of odds and ends, the accumulations of weeks, +tending to show that Lottie and Cock Robin, as she called him, had all +things in common? How could it be, when Lottie was always outgrowing her +garments in the most ungainly manner, so that her sleeves seemed to retreat +in horror from her wrists and from her long hands, tanned by sun and wind, +seamed with bramble-scratches and smeared with school-room ink? Once Lottie +came home with an unmistakable black eye, for which Robin's cricket-ball +was accountable. Then, indeed, Mrs. Blake felt that her cup of bitterness +was full to overflowing, though Lottie did assure her, "You should have +seen Jack's eye last April: his was much more swollen, and all sorts of +colors, than mine." It was impossible to avoid the conclusion that Jack +must have been, to say the least of it, unpleasant to look at. Percival +happened to come to the house just then, and was tranquilly amused at the +good lady's despair. It was before the Blakes knew much of Horace, and she +had not yet discovered that Percival's cousin was so much more friendly +than Percival himself; so she made the latter her confidant. He recommended +a raw beefsteak with a gravity worthy of a Spanish grandee. He was not +allowed to see Lottie, who was kept in seclusion as being half culprit, +half invalid, and wholly unpresentable; but as he was going away the +servant gave him a little note in Lottie's boyish scrawl: + + "DEAR PERCIVAL: Mamma was cross with Robin and sent him away + do tell him I'm all right, and he is not to mind he will be + sure to be about somewhere It is very stupid being shut up + here Addie says she can't go running about giving messages + to boys and Papa said if he saw him he should certainly + punch his head so please tell him he is not to bother + himself about me I shall soon be all right." + +Percival went away, smiling a little at his letter and at Lottie herself. +Just as he reached the first of the fields which were the short cut from +the house, he spied Robin lurking on the other side of the hedge, with Jack +at his heels. He halted, and called "Robin! Robin Wingfield! I want to +speak to you." + +The boy hesitated: "There's a gate farther on." + +Coming to the gate, Percival rested his arms on it and looked at Robin. The +boy was not big for his age, but there was a good deal of cleverness in his +upturned freckled face. "I've a message for you," said the young man. + +"From her?" Robin indicated the Blakes' house with a jerk of his head. + +"Yes. She asked me to tell you that she is all right, though, of course, +she can't come out at present. She made sure I should find you somewhere +about." + +Robin nodded: "I did try to hear how she was, but that old dragon--" + +"Meaning my friend Mrs. Blake?" said young Thorne. "Ah! Hardly civil +perhaps, but forcible." + +"Well--Mrs. Blake, then--caught me in the shrubbery and pitched into me. +Said I ought to be ashamed of myself. Supposed I should be satisfied when +I'd broken Lottie's neck. Told me I'd better not show my face there again." + +"Well," said Percival, "you couldn't expect Mrs. Blake to be particularly +delighted with your afternoon's work. And, Wingfield, though I was +especially to tell you that you were not to vex yourself about it, you +really ought to be more careful. Knocking a young lady's eye half out--" + +"Young lady!" in a tone of intense scorn. "Lottie isn't a _young lady_." + +"Oh! isn't she?" said Percival. + +"I should think not, indeed!" And Robin eyed the big young man who was +laughing at him as if he meditated wiping out the insult to Lottie then and +there. But even with Jack, his sturdy satellite, to help, it was not to be +thought of. "She's a brick!" said Cock Robin, half to himself. + +"No doubt," said Percival. "But, as I was saying, it isn't exactly the way +to treat her.--At least--I don't know: upon my word, I don't know," he +soliloquized. "Judging by most women's novels, from _Jane Eyre_ downward, +the taste for muscular bullies prevails. Robin may be the coming hero--who +knows?--and courtship commencing with a black eye the future +fashion.--Well, Robin, any answer?" + +"Tell her I hope she'll soon be all right. Shall you see her?" + +"I can see that she gets any message you want to send." + +Robin groped among his treasures: "Look here: I brought away her knife that +afternoon. She lent it me. She'd better have it--it's got four blades--she +may want it, perhaps." + +Percival dropped the formidable instrument carelessly into his pocket: "She +shall have it. And, Robin, you'd better not be hanging about here: Lottie +says so. You'll only vex Mrs. Blake." + +"All right!" said the boy, and went off, with Jack after him. + +Percival, who was staying in the neighborhood, went straight home, tied up +a parcel of books he thought might amuse Lottie in her imprisonment, and +wrote a note to go with them. He was whistling softly to himself as he +wrote, and, if the truth be told, had a fair vision floating before his +eyes--a girl of whom Lottie had reminded him by sheer force of contrast. +Still, he liked Lottie in her way. He was young enough to enjoy the easy +sense of patronage and superiority which made the words flow so pleasantly +from his pen. Never had Lottie seemed to him so utterly a child as +immediately after his talk with her boy-friend. + +"Here are some books," said the hurrying pen, "which I think you will like +if your eye is not so bad as to prevent your reading. Robin was keeping his +disconsolate watch close by, as you foretold, and asked anxiously after +you, so I gave him your message and dismissed him. He especially charged me +to send you the enclosed--knife I believe he called it: it looks to me like +a whole armory of deadly weapons--which he seemed to think would be a +comfort to you in your affliction. I sincerely hope it may prove so. I was +very civil to him, remembering that I was your ambassador; but if he isn't +a little less rough with you in future, I shall be tempted to adopt Mr. +Blake's plan if I happen to meet your friend again. You really mustn't let +him damage those eyes of yours in this reckless fashion. Mrs. Blake was +nearly heartbroken this morning." + +He sent his parcel off, and speedily ceased to think of it. And Lottie +herself might have done the same, not caring much for his books, but for +four little words--"those eyes of yours." Had Percival written "your eyes," +it would have meant nothing, but "those eyes of yours" implied notice--nay, +admiration. Again and again she looked at the thick paper, with the crest +at the top and the vigorous lines of writing below; and again and again the +four words, "those eyes of yours," seemed to spring into ever-clearer +prominence. She hid the letter away with a sudden comprehension of the +roughness of her pencil scrawl which it answered, and began to take pride +in her looks when they least deserved it. Only a day or two before she had +envied Robin the possession of sight a little keener than her own, but now +she smiled to think that Percival Thorne would never have regretted injury +to "those eyes of yours" had she owned Robin's light-gray orbs. + +Her transformation had begun. The knife was still a treasure, but she was +ashamed of her delight in it. She breathed on the shining blades and rubbed +them to brightness again, but she did it stealthily, with a glance over her +shoulder first. She went rambling with Robin and Jack, but not when she +knew that Percival Thorne was in the neighborhood. She was very sure of his +absence on the November day to which her mother had alluded, when she had +insisted on playing trap-and-ball in the rectory meadows. Mrs. Blake did +not realize it, but it was almost the last day of Lottie's old life. At +Christmas-time they were asked to stay for a few days at a friend's house. +There was to be a dance, and the hostess, being Lottie's godmother, +pointedly included her in the invitation; so Mrs. Blake and Addie did what +they could to improve their black sheep's appearance. + +Lottie, dressed for the eventful evening, was left alone for a moment +before the three went down. She felt shy, dispirited and sullen. Her +ball-dress encumbered and constrained her. "I hate it all," she said to +herself, beating impatiently with her foot upon the ground. Something +moving caught her eye: it was her reflection in a mirror. She paused and +gazed in wonder. Was this slender girl, arrayed in a cloud of +semi-transparent white, really herself--the Lottie who only a few days +before had raced Robin Wingfield home across the fields, had been the first +over the gap and through the ditch into the rectory meadow, and had rushed +away with the November rain-drops driving in her face? She gazed on: the +transformation had its charms, after all. But the shadow came back: "It's +no use. Addie's prettier than I ever shall be: I must be second all my +life. Second! If I can't be A 1, I'd as soon be Z 1000! I won't go about +to be a foil to her. I'd ten times rather race with Robin; and I will too! +They sha'n't coop me up and make a young lady of me!" + +She caught the flash of her indignant glance in the glass and paused. + +"_Those eyes of yours!_" + +_Must_ she be second all her life? Had she not a power and witchery of her +own? Might she not even distance Addie in the race? "I've more brains than +she has," mused Lottie. + +Her heart was beating fast as they came down stairs. They had only arrived +by a late train, which gave them just time to dress; and Mrs. Blake had +rather exceeded the allowance, so that most of the guests had arrived and +the first quadrille was nearly ended as they came in. Lottie followed her +mother and Addie as they glided through the crowd, and when they paused she +stood shy and fierce, casting lowering glances around. + +She heard their hostess say to some one, "Do let me find you a partner." + +A well-known voice replied, "Not this time, thank you: I'm going to try to +find one for myself;" and Percival stood before her, looking, to her +girlish fancy, more of a hero than ever in the evening-dress which became +him well. The perfectly-fitting gloves, the flower in his coat, a dozen +little things which she could not define, made her feel uncouth and +anxious, fascinated and frightened, all at once. Had he greeted her in the +patronizing way in which he had talked to her of old, she would have been +deeply wounded, but he asked her for the next dance more ceremoniously, she +knew, than Horace would have asked Addie. Still, she trembled as they moved +off. They had scarcely met since her note to him. Suppose he alluded to it, +asked after her black eye, and inquired whether she had derived any benefit +from the beefsteak? Nothing more natural, and yet if he did Lottie felt +that she should _hate_ him. "I know I should do something dreadful," she +thought--"scratch his face, and then burst out crying, most likely. Oh, +what would become of me? I should be ruined for life! I should have to +shut myself up, never see any one again, and emigrate with Robin directly +he was old enough." + +Percival did not know his danger, but he escaped it. The fatal thoughts +were in his mind while Lottie was planning her disgrace and exile, but he +merely remarked that he liked the first waltz, and should they start at +once or wait a moment till a couple or two dropped out? + +"I don't know whether I _can_ waltz," said Lottie doubtfully. + +"Weren't you over tortured with dancing-lessons?" + +"Oh yes. But I've never tried at a party. Suppose we go bumping up against +everybody, like that fat man and the little lady in pink--the two who are +just stopping?" + +"I assure you," said Percival gravely, "that I do not dance at all like +that fat man. And if you dance like the lady in pink, I shall be more +surprised than I have words to say. Now?" + +They were off. Percival knew that he waltzed well, and had an idea that +Lottie would prove a good partner. Nor was he mistaken. She had been fairly +taught, much against her will, had a good ear for time, and, thanks to many +a race with Robin Wingfield, her energy was almost terrible. They spun +swiftly and silently round, unwearied while other couples dropped out of +the ranks to rest and talk. Percival was well pleased. It is true that he +had memories of waltzes with Sissy Langton of more utter harmony, of +sweeter grace, of delight more perfect, though far more fleeting. But +Lottie, with her steady swiftness and her strong young life, had a charm of +her own which he was not slow to recognize. She would hardly have thanked +him for accurately classifying it, for as she danced she felt that she had +discovered a new joy. Her old life slipped from her like a husk. Friendship +with Cock Robin was an evident absurdity. It is true she was angry with +herself that, after fighting so passionately for freedom, she should +voluntarily bend her proud neck beneath the yoke. She foresaw that her +mother and Addie would triumph; she felt that her bondage to Mrs. Grundy +would often be irksome; but here was the first instalment of her wages in +this long waltz with Percival. She fancied that the secret of her pleasure +lay in the two words--"with Percival." In her ignorance she thought that +she was tasting the honeyed fire of love, when in truth it was the +sweetness of conscious success. Before the last notes of that enchanted +music died away she had cast her girlish devotion, "half in a rapture and +half in a rage," at her partner's feet, while he stood beside her calm and +self-possessed. He would have been astounded, and perhaps almost disgusted, +had he known what was passing through her mind. + +Love at sixteen is generally only a desire to be in love, and seeks not so +much a fit as a possible object. Probably Lottie's passion offered as many +assurances of domestic bliss as could be desired at her age. + +Percival was dark, foreign-looking and handsome: he had an interesting air +of reserve, and no apparent need to practise small economies. His clothes +fitted him extremely well, and at times he had a way of standing proudly +aloof which was worthy of any hero of romance. No settled occupation would +interfere with picnics and balls; and, to crown all, had he not said to +her, "Those eyes of yours"? Were not these ample foundations for the +happiness of thirty or forty years of marriage? + +Percival, meanwhile, wanted to be kind to the childish, half-tamed Lottie, +who had attracted his notice in the fields and trusted him with her +generous message to Robin Wingfield. The girl fancied herself immensely +improved by her white dress, but had Thorne been a painter he would have +sketched her as a pale vision of Liberty, with loosely-knotted hair and +dark eyes glowing under Robin's red cap. He was able coolly to determine +the precise nature of his pleasure in her society, but he knew that it was +a pleasure. And Lottie, when she fell asleep that night, clasped a card +which was rendered priceless by the frequent recurrence of his initials. + +Her passion transformed her. Her vehement spirit remained, but everything +else was changed. Her old dreams and longings were cast out by the new. She +laughed with Mrs. Blake and Addie, but under the laughter she hid her love, +and cherished it in fierce and solitary silence. Yet even to herself the +transformation seemed so wonderful that she could hardly believe in it, and +acted the rough girl now and then with the idea that otherwise they _must_ +think her a consummate actress morning, noon and night. For some months no +great event marked the record of her unsuspected passion. It might, +perhaps, have run its course, and died out harmlessly in due time, but for +an unlucky afternoon, about a week before her birthday, when Percival +uttered some thoughtless words which woke a tempest of doubt and fear in +Lottie's heart. She did not question his love, but she caught a glimpse of +his pride, and felt as if a gulf had opened between her and her dream of +happiness. + +Percival was calling at the house on the eventful day which was destined to +influence Lottie's fate and his own. He was in a happy mood, well pleased +with things in general, and, after his own fashion, inclined to be +talkative. When visitors arrived and Addie exclaimed, "Mrs. Pickering and +that boy of hers--oh bother!" she spoke the feelings of the whole party; +and Percival from his place by the window looked across at Lottie and +shrugged his shoulders expressively. Had there been time he would have +tried to escape into the garden with his girl friend; but as that was +impossible, he resigned himself to his fate and listened while Mrs. +Pickering poured forth her rapture concerning her son's prospects to Mrs. +Blake. An uncle who was the head of a great London firm had offered the +young man a situation, with an implied promise of a share in the business +later. "Such a subject for congratulation!" the good lady exclaimed, +beaming on her son, who sat silently turning his hat in his hands and +looking very pink. "Such an opening for William! Better than having a +fortune left him, I call it, for it is such a thing to have an occupation. +Every young man should be brought up to something, in my opinion." + +Mrs. Blake, with a half glance at Addie and a thought of Horace, suggested +that heirs to landed estates-- + +"Well, yes." Mrs. Pickering agreed with her. Country gentlemen often found +so much to do in looking after their tenants and making improvements that +she would not say anything about them. But young men with small incomes and +no profession--she should be sorry if a son of hers-- + +"Like me, for instance," said Percival, looking up. "I've a small income +and no profession." + +Mrs. Pickering, somewhat confused, hastened to explain that she meant +nothing personal. + +"Of course not," he said: "I know that. I only mentioned it because I think +an illustration stamps a thing on people's memories." + +"But, Percival," Mrs. Blake interposed, "I must say that in this I agree +with Mrs. Pickering. I do think it would be better if you had something to +do--I do indeed." She looked at him with an air of affectionate severity. +"I speak as your friend, you know." (Percival bowed his gratitude.) "I +really think young people are happier when they have a settled occupation." + +"I dare say that is true, as a rule," he said. + +"But you don't think you would be?" questioned Lottie. + +He turned to her with a smile: "Well, I doubt it. Of course I don't know +how happy I might be if I had been brought up to a profession." He glanced +through the open window at the warm loveliness of June. "At this moment, +for instance, I might have been writing a sermon or cutting off a man's +leg. But, somehow, I am very well satisfied as I am." + +"Oh, if you mean to make fun of it--" Mrs. Blake began. + +"But I don't," Percival said quickly. "I may laugh, but I'm in earnest too. +I have plenty to eat and drink; I can pay my tailor and still have a little +money in my pocket; I am my own master. Sometimes I ride--another man's +horse: if not I walk, and am just as well content. I don't smoke--I don't +bet--I have no expensive tastes. What could money do for me that I should +spend the best years of my life in slaving for it?" + +"That may be all very well for the present," said Mrs. Blake. + +"Why not for the future too? Oh, I have my dream for the future too." + +"And, pray, may one ask what it is?" said Mrs. Pickering, looking down on +him from the height of William's prosperity. + +"Certainly," he said. "Some day I shall leave England and travel leisurely +about the Continent. I shall have a sky over my head compared with which +this blue is misty and pale. I shall gain new ideas. I shall get grapes and +figs and melons very cheap. There will be a little too much garlic in my +daily life--even such a destiny as mine must have its drawbacks--but think +of the wonderful scenery I shall see and the queer, beautiful +out-of-the-way holes and corners I shall discover! And in years to come I +shall rejoice, without envy, to hear that Mr. Blake has bought a large +estate and gains prizes for fat cattle, while my friend here has been +knighted on the occasion of some city demonstration." + +Young Pickering, who had been listening open-mouthed to the other's fluent +and tranquil speech, reddened at the allusion to himself and dropped his +hat. + +"At that rate you must never marry," said Mrs. Blake. + +Percival thoughtfully stroked his lip: "You think I should not find a wife +to share my enjoyment of a small income?" + +"Marry a girl with lots of money, Mr. Thorne," said the future Sir William, +feeling it incumbent on him to take part in the conversation. + +"Not I." Percival's glance made the lad's hot face yet hotter. "That's the +last thing I will do. If a man means to work, he may marry whom he will. +But if he has made up his mind to be idle, he is a contemptible cur if he +will let his wife keep him in his idleness." He spoke very quietly in his +soft voice, and leaned back in his chair. + +"Well, then, you must never fall in love with an heiress," said Mrs. +Blake. + +"Or you must work and win her," Lottie suggested almost in a whisper. + +He smiled, but slightly shook his head with a look which she fancied meant +"Too late." Mrs. Pickering began to tell the latest Fordborough scandal, +and the talk drifted into another channel. + +Lottie had listened as she always listened when Percival spoke, but she had +not attached any peculiar meaning to his words. But an hour or so later, +when he was gone and she was loitering in the garden just outside the +window, Addie, who was within, made some remark in a laughing tone. Lottie +did not catch the words, but Mrs. Blake's reply was distinct and not to be +mistaken: "William Pickering, indeed! No: with your looks and your +expectations you girls ought to marry really well." Lottie stood aghast. +They would have money, then? She had never thought about money. She would +be an heiress? And Percival would never marry an heiress--he could not: had +he not said so? How gladly would she have given him every farthing she +possessed! And was her fortune to be a barrier between them for ever? Every +syllable that he had spoken was made clear by this revelation, and rose up +before her eyes as a terrible word of doom. But she was not one to be +easily dismayed, and her first cry was, "What shall I do?" Lottie's +thoughts turned always to action, not to endurance, and she was resolved to +break down the barrier, let the cost be what it might. Her talk with +Godfrey Hammond gave a new interest to her romance and new strength to her +determination. Since her hero was disinherited and poor, and she, though +rich, would be poor in all she cared to have if she were parted from him, +might she not tell him so when she saw him on her birthday? She thought it +would be easier to speak on the one day when in girlish fashion she would +be queen. She would not think of her own pride, because his pride was dear +to her. She could not tell what she would say or do: she only knew that her +birthday should decide her fate. And her heart was beating fast in hope +and fear the night before when she banged the door after her and went off +to bed, sublimely ready to renounce the world for Percival. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +DEAD MEN TELL NO TALES--ALFRED THORNE'S IS TOLD BY THE WRITER. + + +Mr. Thorne of Brackenhill was a miserable man, who went through the world +with a morbidly sensitive spot in his nature. A touch on it was torture, +and unfortunately the circumstances of his daily life continually chafed +it. + +It was only a common form of selfishness carried to excess. "I don't want +much," he would have said--truly enough, for Godfrey Thorne had never been +grasping--"but let it be my own." He could not enjoy anything unless he +knew that he might waste it if he liked. The highest good, fettered by any +condition, was in his eyes no good at all. Brackenhill was dear to him +because he could leave it to whom he would. He was seventy-six, and had +spent his life in improving his estate, but he prized nothing about it so +much as his right to give the result of his life's work to the first beggar +he might chance to meet. It would have made him still happier if he could +have had the power of destroying Brackenhill utterly, of wiping it off the +face of the earth, in case he could not find an heir who pleased him, for +it troubled him to think that some man _must_ have the land after him, +whether he wished it or not. + +Godfrey Hammond had declared that no one could conceive the exquisite +torments Mr. Thorne would endure if he owned an estate with a magnificent +ruin on it, some unique and priceless relic of bygone days. "He should be +able to see it from his window," said Hammond, "and it should be his, as +far as law could make it, while he should be continually conscious that in +the eyes of all cultivated men he was merely its guardian. People should +write to the newspapers asserting boldly that the public had a right of +free access to it, and old gentlemen with antiquarian tastes should find a +little gap in a fence, and pen indignant appeals to the editor demanding to +be immediately informed whether a monument of national, nay, of world-wide +interest, ought not, for the sake of the public, to be more carefully +protected from injury. Local archęological societies should come and read +papers in it. Clergymen, wishing to combine a little instruction with the +pleasures of a school-feast, should arrive with van-loads of cheering boys +and girls, a troop of ardent teachers, many calico flags and a brass band. +Artists, keen-eyed and picturesque, each with his good-humored air of +possessing the place so much more truly than any mere country gentleman +ever could, should come to gaze and sketch. Meanwhile, Thorne should remark +about twice a week that of course he could pull the whole thing down if he +liked; to which every one should smile assent, recognizing an evident but +utterly unimportant fact. And then," said Hammond solemnly, "when all the +archęologists were eating and drinking, enjoying their own theories and +picking holes in their neighbors' discoveries, the bolt should fall in the +shape of an announcement that Mr. Thorne had sold the stones as building +materials, and that the workmen had already removed the most ancient and +interesting part. After which he would go slowly to his grave, dying of his +triumph and a broken heart." + +It was all quite true, though Godfrey Hammond might have added that all the +execrations of the antiquarians would hardly have added to the burden of +shame and remorse of which Mr. Thorne would have felt the weight before the +last cart carried away its load from the trampled sward; that he would have +regretted his decision every hour of his life; and if by a miracle he could +have found himself once more with the fatal deed undone, he would have +rejoiced for a moment, suffered his old torment for a little while, and +then proceeded to do it again. + +For a great part of Mr. Thorne's life the boast of his power over +Brackenhill had been on his lips more frequently than the twice a week of +which Hammond talked. Of late years it had not been so. He had used his +power to assure himself that he possessed it, and gradually awoke to the +consciousness that he had lost it by thus using it. + +He had had three sons--Maurice, a fine, high-spirited young fellow; Alfred, +good-looking and good-tempered, but indolent; James, a slim, sickly lad, +who inherited from his mother a fatal tendency to decline. She died while +he was a baby, and he was petted from that time forward. Godfrey Thorne was +well satisfied with Maurice, but was always at war with his second son, who +would not take orders and hold the family living. They argued the matter +till it was too late for Alfred to go into the army, the only career for +which he had expressed any desire; and then Mr. Thorne found himself face +to face with a gentle and lazy resistance which threatened to be a match +for his own hard obstinacy. Alfred didn't mind being a farmer. But his +father was troubled about the necessary capital, and doubted his son's +success: "You will go on after a fashion for a few years, and then all the +money will have slipped through your fingers. You know nothing of +farming."--"That's true," said Alfred.--"And you are much too lazy to +learn."--"That's very likely," said the young man. So Mr. Thorne looked +about him for some more eligible opening for his troublesome son; and +Alfred meanwhile, with his handsome face and honest smile, was busy making +love to Sarah Percival, the rector's daughter. + +The little idyl was the talk of the villagers before it came to the +squire's ears. When he questioned Alfred the young man confessed it readily +enough. He loved Miss Percival, and she didn't mind waiting. Mr. Thorne was +not altogether displeased, for, though his intercourse with the rector was +rather stormy and uncertain, they happened to be on tolerable terms just +then. Sarah was an only child, and would have a little money at Mr. +Percival's death, and Alfred was much more submissive and anxious to please +his father under these altered circumstances. The young people were not to +consider themselves engaged, Miss Percival being only eighteen and Alfred +one-and-twenty. But if they were of the same mind later, when the latter +should be in a position to marry, it was understood that neither his father +nor Mr. Percival would oppose it. + +Unluckily, a parochial question arose near Christmas-time, and the squire +and the clergyman took different views of it. Mr. Thorne went about the +house with brows like a thunder-cloud, and never opened his lips to Alfred +except to abuse the rector. "You'll have to choose between old Percival and +me one of these days," he said more than once. "You'd better be making up +your mind: it will save time." Alfred was silent. When the strife was at +its height Maurice was drowned while skating. + +The poor fellow was hardly in his grave before the storm burst on Alfred's +head. If Mr. Thorne had barely tolerated the idea of his son's marriage +before, he found it utterly intolerable now; and the decree went forth that +this boyish folly about Miss Percival must be forgotten. "I can do as I +like with Brackenhill," said Mr. Thorne: "remember that." Alfred did +remember it. He had heard it often enough, and his father's angry eyes gave +it an added emphasis. "I can make an eldest son of James if I like, and I +will if you defy me." But nothing could shake Alfred. He had given his word +to Miss Percival, and they loved each other, and he meant to keep to it. +"You don't believe me," his father thundered: "you think I may talk, but +that I sha'n't do it. Take care!" There was no trace of any conflict on +Alfred's face: he looked a little dull and heavy under the bitter storm, +but that was all. "I can't help it, sir," he said, tracing the pattern of +the carpet with the toe of his boot as he stood: "you will do as you +please, I suppose."--"I suppose I shall," said Mr. Thorne. + +So Alfred was disinherited. "As well for this as anything else," he said: +"we couldn't have got on long." He had an allowance from his father, who +declined to take any further interest in his plans. He went abroad for a +couple of years--a test which Mr. Percival imposed upon him that nothing +might be done in haste--and came back, faithful as he went, to ask for the +consent which could no longer be denied. Mr. Percival had been presented to +a living at some distance from Brackenhill, and, as there was a good deal +of glebe-land attached to it, Alfred was able to try his hand at farming. +He did so, with a little loss if no gain, and they made one household at +the rectory. + +He never seemed to regret Brackenhill. Sarah--dark, ardent, intense, a +strange contrast to his own fair, handsome face and placid +indolence--absorbed all his love. Her eager nature could not rouse him to +battle with the world, but it woke a passionate devotion in his heart: they +were everything to each other, and were content. When their boy was born +the rector would have named him Godfrey: at any rate, he urged them to call +him by one of the old family names which had been borne by bygone +generations of Thornes. But the young husband was resolved that the child +should be Percival, and Percival only. "Why prejudice his grandfather +against him for a mere name?" the rector persisted. But Alfred shook his +head. "Percival means all the happiness of my life," he said. So the child +received his name, and the fact was announced to Mr. Thorne in a letter +brief and to the point like a challenge. + +Communications with Brackenhill were few and far between. From the local +papers Alfred heard of the rejoicings when James came of age, quickly +followed by the announcement that he had gone abroad for the winter. Then +he was at home again, and going to marry Miss Harriet Benham; whereat +Alfred smiled a little. "The governor must have put his pride in his +pocket: old Benham made his money out of composite candles, then retired, +and has gas all over the house for fear they should be mentioned. Harry, as +we used to call her, is the youngest of them--she must be eight or nine and +twenty; fine girl, hunts--tried it on with poor Maurice ages ago. I should +think she was about half as big again as Jim. Well, yes, perhaps I am +exaggerating a little. How charmed my father must be!--only, of course, +anything to please Jim, and it's a fine thing to have him married and +settled." + +Alfred read his father's feelings correctly enough, but Mr. Thorne was +almost repaid for all he had endured when, in his turn, he was able to +write and announce the birth of a boy for whom the bells had been set +ringing as the heir of Brackenhill. Jim, with his sick fancies and +querulous conceit, Mrs. James Thorne, with her coarsely-colored splendor +and imperious ways, faded into the background now that Horace's little star +had risen. + +The rest may be briefly told. Horace had a little sister who died, and he +himself could hardly remember his father. His time was divided between his +mother's house at Brighton and Brackenhill. He grew slim and tall and +handsome--a Thorne, and not a Benham, as his grandfather did not fail to +note. He was delicate. "But he will outgrow that," said Mrs. Middleton, and +loved him the better for the care she had to take of him. It was +principally for his sake that she was there. She was a widow and had no +children of her own, but when, at her brother's request, she came to +Brackenhill to make more of a home for the school-boy, she brought with her +a tiny girl, little Sissy Langton, a great-niece of her husband's. + +Meanwhile, the other boy grew up in his quiet home, but death came there as +well as to Brackenhill, and seemed to take the mainspring of the household +in taking Sarah Thorne. Her father pined for her, and had no pleasure in +life except in her child. Even when the old man was growing feeble, and it +was manifest to all but the boy that he would not long be parted from his +daughter, it was a sombre but not an unhappy home for the child. Something +in the shadow which overhung it, in his grandfather's weakness and his +father's silence, made him grave and reserved, but he always felt that he +was loved. No playful home-name was ever bestowed on the little lad, but +it did not matter, for when spoken by Alfred Thorne no name could be so +tender as Percival. + +The rector's death when the boy was fifteen broke up the only real home he +was destined to know, for Alfred was unable to settle down in any place for +any length of time. While his wife and her father were alive their +influence over him was supreme: he was like the needle drawn aside by a +powerful attraction. But now that they were gone his thoughts oscillated a +while, and then reverted to Brackenhill. For himself he was content--he had +made his choice long ago--but little by little the idea grew up in his mind +that Percival was wronged, for he, at least, was guiltless. He secretly +regretted the defiant fashion in which his boy had been christened, and +made a feeble attempt to prove that, after all, Percy was an old family +name. He succeeded in establishing that a "P. Thorne" had once existed, who +of course might have been Percy, as he might have been Peter or Paul; and +he tried to call his son Percy in memory of this doubtful namesake. But the +three syllables were as dear to the boy as the white flag to a Bourbon. +They identified him with the mother he dimly remembered, and proclaimed to +all the world (that is, to his grandfather) that for her sake he counted +Brackenhill well lost. He triumphed, and his father was proud to be +defeated. To this day he invariably writes himself "Percival Thorne." + +Alfred, however, had his way on a more important point, and educated his +son for no profession, because the head of the house needed none. Percival +acquiesced willingly enough, without a thought of the implied protest. He +was indolent, and had little or no ambition. Since daily bread--and, +luckily, rather more than daily bread, for he was no ascetic--was secured +to him, since books were many and the world was wide, he asked nothing +better than to study them. He grew up grave, dreamy and somewhat solitary +in his ways. He seemed to have inherited something of the rector's +self-possessed and rather formal courtesy, and at twenty he looked older +than his age, though his face was as smooth as a girl's. + +He was not twenty-one, when his father died suddenly of fever. When the +news reached Brackenhill the old squire was singularly affected by it. He +had been accustomed to contrast Alfred's vigorous prime with his own +advanced age, Percival's unbroken health with Horace's ailing boyhood, and +to think mournfully of the probability that the old manor-house must go to +a stranger unless he could humble himself to the son who had defied him. +But, old as he was, he had outlived his son, and he was dismayed at his +isolation. A whole generation was dead and gone, and the two lads, who were +all that remained of the Thornes of Brackenhill, stood far away, as though +he stretched his trembling hands to them across their fathers' graves. He +expressly requested that Percival should come and see him, and the young +man presented himself in his deep mourning. Sissy, just sixteen, looked +upon him as a sombre hero of romance, and within two days of his coming +Mrs. Middleton announced that her brother was "perfectly infatuated about +that boy." + +The evening of his arrival he stood with his grandfather on the terrace +looking at the wide prospect which lay at their feet--ample fields and +meadows, and the silvery flash of water through the willows. Then he +turned, folded his arms and coolly surveyed Brackenhill itself from end to +end. Mr. Thorne watched him, expecting some word, but when none came, and +Percival's eyes wandered upward to the soft evening sky, where a glimmering +star hung like a lamp above the old gray manor-house, he said, with some +amusement, "Well, and what is your opinion?" + +Percival came down to earth with the greatest promptitude: "It's a +beautiful place. I'm glad to see it. I like looking over old houses." + +"Like looking over old houses? As if it were merely a show! Isn't +Brackenhill more to you than any other old house?" demanded Mr. Thorne. + +"Oh, well, perhaps," Percival allowed: "I have heard my father talk of it +of course." + +"Come, come! You are not such an outsider as all that," said his +grandfather. + +The young man smiled a little, but did not speak. + +"You don't forget you are a Thorne, I hope?" the other went on. "There are +none too many of us." + +"No," said Percival. "I like the old house, and I can assure you, sir, that +I am proud of both my names." + +"Well, well! very good names. But shouldn't you call a man a lucky fellow +if he owned a place like this?" + +"My opinion wouldn't be half as well worth having as yours," was the reply. +"What do you call yourself, sir?" + +"Do you think I own this place?" Mr. Thorne inquired. + +"Why, yes--I always supposed so. Don't you?" + +"No, I don't!" The answer was almost a snarl. "I'm bailiff, overlooker, +anything you like to call it. My master is at Oxford, at Christ Church. He +won't read, and he can't row, so he is devoting his time to learning how to +get rid of the money I am to save up for him. _I_ own Brackenhill?" He +faced abruptly round. "All that timber is mine, they say; and if I cut down +a stick your aunt Middleton is at me: 'Think of Horace.' The place was +mortgaged when I came into it. I pinched and saved--I freed it--for Horace. +Why shouldn't I mortgage it again if I please--raise money and live royally +till my time comes, eh? They'd all be at me, dinning 'Horace! Horace!' and +my duty to those who come after me, into my ears. Look at the drawing-room +furniture!" + +"The prettiest old room I ever saw," said Percival. + +"Ah! you're right there. But my sister doesn't think so. It's shabby, she +would tell you. But does she ask me to furnish it for her? No, no, it isn't +worth while: mine is such a short lease. When Horace marries and comes into +his inheritance, of course it must be done up. It would be a pity to waste +money about it now, especially as there's a bit of land lies between two +farms of mine, and if I don't go spending a lot in follies, I can buy it. +Think of that! I can buy it--_for Horace!_" + +Percival was guarded in his replies to this and similar outbursts; and Mrs. +Middleton, seeing that he showed no disposition to toady his grandfather or +to depreciate Horace, told Godfrey Hammond that, though her brother was so +absurd about him, she thought he seemed a good sort of young man, after +all. "Time will show," was the answer. Now, this was depressing, for +Godfrey had established a reputation for great sagacity. + +[TO BE CONTINUED.] + + + + +ABBEYS AND CASTLES. + + +It is a frequent reflection with the stranger in England that the beauty +and interest of the country are private property, and that to get access to +them a key is always needed. The key may be large or it may be small, but +it must be something that will turn a lock. Of the things that charm an +American observer in the land of parks and castles, I can think of very few +that do not come under this definition of private property. When I have +mentioned the hedgerows and the churches I have almost exhausted the list. +You can enjoy a hedgerow from the public road, and I suppose that even if +you are a Dissenter you may enjoy a Norman abbey from the street. If, +therefore, one talks of anything beautiful in England, the presumption will +be that it is private; and indeed such is my admiration of this delightful +country that I feel inclined to say that if one talks of anything private, +the presumption will be that it is beautiful. Here is something of a +dilemma. If the observer permits himself to commemorate charming +impressions, he is in danger of giving to the world the fruits of +friendship and hospitality. If, on the other hand, he withholds his +impression, he lets something admirable slip away without having marked its +passage, without having done it proper honor. He ends by mingling +discretion with enthusiasm, and he says to himself that it is not treating +a country ill to talk of its treasures when the mention of each connotes, +as the metaphysicians say, an act of private courtesy. + +The impressions I have in mind in writing these lines were gathered in a +part of England of which I had not before had even a traveller's glimpse; +but as to which, after a day or two, I found myself quite ready to agree +with a friend who lived there, and who knew and loved it well, when he said +very frankly, "I _do_ believe it is the loveliest corner of the world!" +This was not a dictum to quarrel about, and while I was in the neighborhood +I was quite of his mind. I felt that it would not take a great deal to make +me care for it very much as he cared for it: I had a glimpse of the +peculiar tenderness with which such a country may be loved. It is a capital +example of the great characteristic of English scenery--of what I should +call density of feature. There are no waste details; everything in the +landscape is something particular--has a history, has played a part, has a +value to the imagination. It is a country of hills and blue undulations, +and, though none of the hills are high, all of them are +interesting--interesting as such things are interesting in an old, small +country, by a kind of exquisite modulation, something suggesting that +outline and coloring have been retouched and refined, as it were, by the +hand of Time. Independently of its castles and abbeys, the definite relics +of the ages, such a landscape seems historic. It has human relations, and +it is intimately conscious of them. That little speech about the +loveliness of his county, or of his own part of his county, was made to me +by my companion as we walked up the grassy slope of a hill, or "edge," as +it is called there, from the crests of which we seemed in an instant to +look away over half of England. Certainly I should have grown fond of such +a view as that. The "edge" plunged down suddenly, as if the corresponding +slope on the other side had been excavated, and one might follow the long +ridge for the space of an afternoon's walk with this vast, charming +prospect before one's eyes. Looking across an English county into the next +but one is a very pretty entertainment, the county seeming by no means so +small as might be supposed. How can a county seem small in which, from such +a vantage-point as the one I speak of, you see, as a darker patch across +the lighter green, the twelve thousand acres of Lord So-and-So's woods? +Beyond these are blue undulations of varying tone, and then another +bosky-looking spot, which you learn to be about the same amount of manorial +umbrage belonging to Lord Some-One-Else. And to right and left of these, in +shaded stretches, lie other estates of equal consequence. It was therefore +not the smallness but the vastness of the country that struck me, and I was +not at all in the mood of a certain American who once, in my hearing, burst +out laughing at an English answer to my inquiry as to whether my +interlocutor often saw Mr. B----. "Oh no," the answer had been, "we never +see him: he lives away off in the West." It was the western part of his +county our friend meant, and my American humorist found matter for infinite +jest in his meaning. "I should as soon think," he declared, "of saying my +western hand and my eastern." + +I do not think, even, that my disposition to form a sentimental attachment +for this delightful region--for its hillside prospect of old red farmhouses +lighting up the dark-green bottoms, of gables and chimney-tops of great +houses peeping above miles of woodland, and, in the vague places of the +horizon, of far-away towns and sites that one had always heard of--was +conditioned upon having "property" in the neighborhood, so that the little +girls in the town should suddenly drop courtesies to me in the street; +though that too would certainly have been pleasant. At the same time, +having a little property would without doubt have made the sentiment +stronger. People who wander about the world without money have their +dreams--dreams of what they would buy if their pockets were lined. These +dreams are very apt to have relation to a good estate in any neighborhood +in which the wanderer happens to find himself. For myself, I have never +been in a country so unattractive that it did not seem a peculiar felicity +to be able to purchase the most considerable house it contained. In New +England and other portions of the United States I have coveted the large +mansion with Greek columns and a pediment of white-painted timber: in Italy +I should have made proposals for the yellow-walled villa with statues on +the roof. In England I have rarely gone so far as to fancy myself in treaty +for the best house, but, short of this, I have never failed to feel that +ideal comfort for the time would be to call one's self owner of what is +denominated here a "good" place. Is it that English country life seems to +possess such irresistible charms? I have not always thought so: I have +sometimes suspected that it is dull; I have remembered that there is a +whole literature devoted to exposing it (that of the English novel "of +manners"), and that its recorded occupations and conversations occasionally +strike one as lacking a certain desirable salt. But, for all that, when, in +the region to which I allude, my companion spoke of this and that place +being likely sooner or later to come to the hammer, it seemed as if nothing +could be more delightful than to see the hammer fall upon an offer made by +one's self. And this in spite of the fact that the owners of the places in +question would part with them because they could no longer afford to keep +them up. I found it interesting to learn, in so far as was possible, what +sort of income was implied by the possession of country-seats such as are +not in America a concomitant of even the largest fortunes; and if in these +interrogations I sometimes heard of a very long rent-roll, on the other +hand I was frequently surprised at the slenderness of the resources +attributed to people living in the depths of an oak-studded park. Then, +certainly, English country life seemed to me the most advantageous thing in +the world: on these terms one would gladly put up with a little dulness. +When I reflected that there were thousands of people dwelling in brownstone +houses in numbered streets in New York who were at as great a cost to make +a reputable appearance in those harsh conditions as some of the occupants +of the grassy estates of which I had a glimpse, the privileges of the +latter class appeared delightfully cheap. + +There was one place in particular of which I said to myself that if I had +the money to buy it, I would simply walk up to the owner and pour the sum +in sovereigns into his hat. I saw this place, unfortunately, to small +advantage: I saw it in the rain. But I am rather glad that fine weather did +not meddle with the affair, for I think that in this case the irritation of +envy would have been really too acute. It was a rainy Sunday, and the rain +was serious. I had been in the house all day, for the weather can best be +described by my saying that it had been deemed an exoneration from +church-going. But in the afternoon, the prospective interval between lunch +and tea assuming formidable proportions, my host took me out to walk, and +in the course of our walk he led me into a park which he described as "the +paradise of a small English country gentleman." Well it might be: I have +never seen such a collection of oaks. They were of high antiquity and +magnificent girth and stature: they were strewn over the grassy levels in +extraordinary profusion, and scattered upon and down the slopes in a +fashion than which I have seen nothing more charming since I last looked at +the chestnut trees on the banks of the Lake of Como. It appears that the +place was not very vast, but I was unable to perceive its limits. Shortly +before we turned into the park the rain had renewed itself, so that we were +awkwardly wet and muddy; but, being near the house, my companion proposed +to leave his card in a neighborly way. The house was most agreeable: it +stood on a kind of terrace in the midst of a lawn and garden, and the +terrace looked down on one of the handsomest rivers in England, and across +to those blue undulations of which I have already spoken. On the terrace +also was a piece of ornamental water, and there was a small iron paling to +divide the lawn from the park. All this I beheld in the rain. My companion +gave his card to the butler, with the observation that we were too much +bespattered to come in; and we turned away to complete our circuit. As we +turned away I became acutely conscious of what I should have been tempted +to call the cruelty of this proceeding. My imagination gauged the whole +position. It was a Sunday afternoon, and it was raining. The house was +charming, the terrace delightful, the oaks magnificent, the view most +interesting. But the whole thing was--not to repeat the epithet "dull," of +which just now I made too gross a use--the whole thing was quiet. In the +house was a drawing-room, and in the drawing-room was--by which I meant +_must be_--a lady, a charming English lady. There was, it seemed to me, no +fatuity in believing that on this rainy Sunday afternoon it would not +please her to be told that two gentlemen had walked across the country to +her door only to go through the ceremony of leaving a card. Therefore, +when, before we had gone many yards, I heard the butler hurrying after us, +I felt how just my sentiment of the situation had been. Of course we went +back, and I carried my muddy shoes into the drawing-room--just the +drawing-room I had imagined--where I found--I will not say just the lady I +had imagined, but--a lady even more charming. Indeed, there were two +ladies, one of whom was staying in the house. In whatever company you find +yourself in England, you may always be sure that some one present is +"staying." I seldom hear this participle now-a-days without remembering an +observation made to me in France by a lady who had seen much of English +manners: "Ah, that dreadful word _staying!_ I think we are so happy in +France not to be able to translate it--not to have any word that answers to +it." The large windows of the drawing-room I speak of looked away over the +river to the blurred and blotted hills, where the rain was drizzling and +drifting. It was very quiet: there was an air of leisure. If one wanted to +do something here, there was evidently plenty of time--and indeed of every +other appliance--to do it. The two ladies talked about "town:" that is what +people talk about in the country. If I were disposed I might represent them +as talking about it with a certain air of yearning. At all events, I asked +myself how it was possible that one should live in this charming place and +trouble one's head about what was going on in London in July. Then we had +excellent tea. + +I have narrated this trifling incident because there seemed to be some +connection between it and what I was going to say about the stranger's +sense of country life being the normal, natural, typical life of the +English. In America, however comfortably people may live in the country, +there is always, relatively speaking, an air of picnicking about their +establishments. Their habitations, their arrangements, their appointments, +are more or less provisional. They dine at different hours from their city +hours; they wear different clothing; they spend all their time out of +doors. The English, on the other hand, live according to the same system in +Devonshire and in Mayfair--with the difference, perhaps, that in +Devonshire, where they have people "staying" with them, the system is +rather more rigidly applied. The picnicking, if picnicking there is to be, +is done in town. They keep their best things in the country--their best +books, their best furniture, their best pictures--and their footing in +London is as provisional as ours is at our "summer retreats." The English +smile a good deal--or rather would smile a good deal if they had more +observation of it--at the fashion in which we American burghers stow +ourselves away for July and August in white wooden boarding-houses beside +dusty, ill-made roads. But it is fair to say that these improvised homes +are not immeasurably more barbaric than the human _entassement_ that takes +place in London "apartments" during the months of May and June. Whoever has +had unhappy occasion to look for lodgings at this period, and to explore +the mysteries of the little black houses in the West End which have a +neatly-printed card suspended in the door-light, will admit that from the +obligation to rough it our more luxurious kinsmen are not altogether +exempt. We rough it, certainly, more than they do, but we rough it in the +country, where Nature herself is rough, and they rough it in the heart of +the largest and most splendid of cities. In England, in the country, Nature +as well as civilization is smooth, and it seems perfectly consistent, even +at midsummer, to dress for dinner; albeit that when so costumed you cannot +conveniently lie on the grass. But in England you do not particularly +expect to lie on the grass, especially in the evening. The aspect of the +usual English country-houses sufficiently indicates the absence of that +informal culture of the open air into which the American _villeggiatura_ +generally resolves itself; and one reason why I mentioned just now the +excellent dwelling which I visited in the rain was that, as I approached +it, it struck me as so good an example of all that, for American rural +purposes, a house should not be. It was indeed built of stone, or of brick +stuccoed over; which, as they say in England, is a "great pull." But except +that it was detached and gabled, it belonged quite to the class of city +houses. Its walls were straight and bare, and its windows, though wide, +were short. It might have been deposited in Belgravia without in the least +seeming out of place: it conformed to the rigid London model. It had no +external galleries, no breezy piazzas, no long windows opening upon them, +no doors disposed for propagating draughts. But, indeed, I have never seen +an English house furnished with what we call a piazza; and I must add that +I have rarely known an English summer day on which it would have been +convenient to sit in a propagated draught. + +It seems, however, grossly unthankful to say that English country-houses +lack anything when one has received delightful impressions of what they +possess. What is a draughty doorway to an old Norman portal, massively +arched and quaintly sculptured, across whose hollow threshold the eye of +fancy may see the ghosts of monks and the shadows of abbots pass +noiselessly to and fro? What is a paltry piazza to a beautiful ambulatory +of the thirteenth century--a long stone gallery or cloister repeated in two +stories, with the interstices of its carven lattice now glazed, but with +its long, low, narrow, charming vista still perfect and picturesque--with +its flags worn away by monkish sandals, and with huge round-arched doorways +opening from its inner side into great rooms roofed like cathedrals? What +are the longest French windows, with the most patented latches, to narrow +casements of almost defensive aspect set in embrasures three feet deep and +ornamented with little grotesque medięval faces? To see one of these small +monkish masks grinning at you while you dress and undress, or while you +look up in the intervals of inspiration from your letter-writing, is a +simple detail in the entertainment of living in an ancient priory. This +entertainment is inexhaustible, for every step you take in such a house +confronts you in one way or another with the remote past. You feast upon +picturesqueness, you inhale history. Adjoining the house is a beautiful +ruin, part of the walls and windows and bases of the piers of the +magnificent church administered by your predecessor the abbot. These relics +are very desultory, but they are still abundant, and they testify to the +great scale and the stately beauty of the abbey. You may lie upon the grass +at the base of an ivied fragment, measure the girth of the great stumps of +the central columns, half smothered in soft creepers, and think how strange +it is that in this quiet hollow, in the midst of lonely hills, so exquisite +and elaborate a work of art should have arisen. It is but an hour's walk to +another great ruin, which has held together more completely. There the +central tower stands erect to half its altitude, and the round arches and +massive pillars of the nave make a perfect vista on the unencumbered turf. +You get an impression that when Catholic England was in her prime great +abbeys were as thick as milestones. By native amateurs, even now, the +region is called "wild," though to American eyes it seems thoroughly +suburban in its smoothness and finish. There is a noiseless little railway +running through the valley, and there is an ancient little town at the +abbey gates--a town, indeed, with no great din of vehicles, but with goodly +brick houses, with a dozen "publics," with tidy, whitewashed cottages, and +with little girls, as I have said, bobbing courtesies in the street. But +even now, if one had wound one's way into the valley by the railroad, it +would be rather a surprise to find a small ornamental cathedral in a spot +on the whole so natural and pastoral. How impressive then must the +beautiful church have been in the days of its prosperity, when the pilgrim +came down to it from the grassy hillside and its bells made the stillness +sensible! The abbey was in those days a great affair: as my companion said, +it sprawled all over the place. As you walk away from it you think you have +got to the end of its traces, but you encounter them still in the shape of +a rugged outhouse grand with an Early-English arch, or an ancient well +hidden in a kind of sculptured cavern. It is noticeable that even if you +are a traveller from a land where there are no Early-English--and indeed +few Late-English--arches, and where the well-covers are, at their hoariest, +of fresh-looking shingles, you grow used with little delay to all this +antiquity. Anything very old seems extremely natural: there is nothing we +accept so implicitly as the past. It is not too much to say that after +spending twenty-four hours in a house that is six hundred years old, you +seem yourself to have lived in it for six hundred years. You seem yourself +to have hollowed the flags with your tread and to have polished the oak +with your touch. You walk along the little stone gallery where the monks +used to pace, looking out of the Gothic window-places at their beautiful +church, and you pause at the big round, rugged doorway that admits you to +what is now the drawing-room. The massive step by which you ascend to the +threshold is a trifle crooked, as it should be: the lintels are cracked and +worn by the myriad-fingered years. This strikes your casual glance. You +look up and down the miniature cloister before you pass in: it seems +wonderfully old and queer. Then you turn into the drawing-room, where you +find modern conversation and late publications and the prospect of dinner. +The new life and the old have melted together: there is no dividing-line. +In the drawing-room wall is a queer funnel-shaped hole, with the broad end +inward, like a small casemate. You ask a lady what it is, but she doesn't +know. It is something of the monks: it is a mere detail. After dinner you +are told that there is of course a ghost--a gray friar who is seen in the +dusky hours at the end of passages. Sometimes the servants see him, and +afterward go surreptitiously to sleep in the town. Then, when you take your +chamber-candle and go wandering bedward by a short cut through empty rooms, +you are conscious of a peculiar sensation which you hardly know whether to +interpret as a desire to see the gray friar or as an apprehension that you +will see him. + +A friend of mine, an American, who knew this country, had told me not to +fail, while I was in the neighborhood, to go to S----. "Edward I. and +Elizabeth," he said, "are still hanging about there." Thus admonished, I +made a point of going to S----, and I saw quite what my friend meant. +Edward I. and Elizabeth, indeed, are still to be met almost anywhere in the +county: as regards domestic architecture, few parts of England are still +more vividly Old English. I have rarely had, for a couple of hours, the +sensation of dropping back personally into the past in a higher degree than +while I lay on the grass beside the well in the little sunny court of this +small castle, and idly appreciated the still definite details of medięval +life. The place is a capital example of what the French call a small +_gentilhommičre_ of the thirteenth century. It has a good deep moat, now +filled with wild verdure, and a curious gatehouse of a much later +period--the period when the defensive attitude had been wellnigh abandoned. +This gatehouse, which is not in the least in the style of the habitation, +but gabled and heavily timbered, with quaint cross-beams protruding from +surfaces of coarse white stucco, is a very picturesque anomaly in regard to +the little gray fortress on the other side of the court. I call this a +fortress, but it is a fortress which might easily have been taken, and it +must have assumed its present shape at a time when people had ceased to +peer through narrow slits at possible besiegers. There are slits in the +outer walls for such peering, but they are noticeably broad and not +particularly oblique, and might easily have been applied to the uses of a +peaceful parley. This is part of the charm of the place: human life there +must have lost an earlier grimness: it was lived in by people who were +beginning to feel comfortable. They must have lived very much together: +that is one of the most obvious reflections in the court of a medięval +dwelling. The court was not always grassy and empty, as it is now, with +only a couple of gentlemen in search of impressions lying at their length, +one of whom has taken a wine-flask out of his pocket and has colored the +clear water drawn for them out of the well in a couple of tumblers by a +decent, rosy, smiling, talking old woman, who has come bustling out of the +gatehouse, and who has a large, dropsical, innocent husband standing about +on crutches in the sun and making no sign when you ask after his health. +This poor man has reached that ultimate depth of human simplicity at which +even a chance to talk about one's ailments is not appreciated. But the +civil old woman talks for every one, even for an artist who has come out of +one of the rooms, where I see him afterward reproducing its mouldering +quaintness. The rooms are all unoccupied and in a state of extreme decay, +though the castle is, as yet, far from being a ruin. From one of the +windows I see a young lady sitting under a tree across a meadow, with her +knees up, dipping something into her mouth. It is a camel's hair +paint-brush: the young lady is sketching. These are the only besiegers to +which the place is exposed now, and they can do no great harm, as I doubt +whether the young lady's aim is very good. We wandered about the empty +interior, thinking it a pity things should be falling so to pieces. There +is a beautiful great hall--great, that is, for a small castle (it would be +extremely handsome in a modern house)--with tall, ecclesiastical-looking +windows, and a long staircase at one end climbing against the wall into a +spacious bedroom. You may still apprehend very well the main lines of that +simpler life; and it must be said that, simpler though it was, it was +apparently by no means destitute of many of our own conveniences. The +chamber at the top of the staircase ascending from the hall is charming +still, with its irregular shape, its low-browed ceiling, its cupboards in +the walls, and its deep bay window formed of a series of small lattices. +You can fancy people stepping out from it upon the platform of the +staircase, whose rugged wooden logs, by way of steps, and solid, +deeply-guttered hand-rail, still remain. They looked down into the hall, +where, I take it, there was always a certain congregation of retainers, +much lounging and waiting and passing to and fro, with a door open into the +court. The court, as I said just now, was not the grassy, ęsthetic spot +which you may find it at present of a summer's day: there were beasts +tethered in it, and hustling men-at-arms, and the earth was trampled into +puddles. But my lord or my lady, looking down from the chamber-door, could +pick out the man wanted and bawl down an order, with a threat to fling +something at his head if it were not instantly performed. The sight of the +groups on the floor beneath, the calling up and down, the oaken tables +spread, and the brazier in the middle,--all this seemed present again; and +it was not difficult to pursue the historic vision through the rest of the +building--through the portion which connected the great hall with the tower +(here the confederate of the sketching young lady without had set up the +peaceful three-legged engine of his craft); through the dusky, roughly +circular rooms of the tower itself, and up the corkscrew staircase of the +same to that most charming part of every old castle, where visions must +leap away off the battlements to elude you--the sunny, breezy platform at +the tower-top, the place where the castle-standard hung and the vigilant +inmates surveyed the approaches. Here, always, you really overtake the +impression of the place--here, in the sunny stillness, it seems to pause, +panting a little, and give itself up. + +It was not only at Stokesay--I have written the name at last, and I will +not efface it--that I lingered a while on the quiet platform of the keep to +enjoy the complete impression so overtaken. I spent such another half hour +at Ludlow, which is a much grander and more famous monument. Ludlow, +however, is a ruin--the most impressive and magnificent of ruins. The +charming old town and the admirable castle form a capital object of +pilgrimage. Ludlow is an excellent example of a small English provincial +town that has not been soiled and disfigured by industry: I remember there +no tall chimneys and smoke-streamers, with their attendant purlieus and +slums. The little city is perched upon a hill near which the goodly Severn +wanders, and it has a noticeable air of civic dignity. Its streets are wide +and clean, empty and a little grass-grown, and bordered with spacious, +soberly-ornamental brick houses, which look as if there had been more going +on in them in the first decade of the century than there is in the present, +but which can still, nevertheless, hold up their heads and keep their +window-panes clear, their knockers brilliant and their doorsteps whitened. +The place looks as if seventy years ago it had been the centre of a large +provincial society, and as if that society had been very "good of its +kind." It must have transported itself to Ludlow for the season--in +rumbling coaches and heavyish curricles--and there entertained itself in +decent emulation of that metropolis which a choice of railway-lines had not +as yet placed within its immediate reach. It had balls at the +assembly-rooms; it had Mrs. Siddons to play; it had Catalani to sing. Miss +Austin's and Miss Edgeworth's heroines might perfectly well have had their +first love-affair there: a journey to Ludlow would certainly have been a +great event to Fanny Price or Anne Eliot, to Helen or Belinda. It is a +place on which a provincial "gentry" has left a sensible stamp. I have +seldom seen so good a collection of houses of the period between the elder +picturesqueness and the modern baldness. Such places, such houses, such +relics and intimations, always carry me back to the near antiquity of that +pre-Victorian England which it is still easy for a stranger to picture with +a certain vividness, thanks to the partial survival of many of its +characteristics. It is still easy for a stranger who has stayed a while in +England to form an idea of the tone, the habits, the aspect of English +social life before its classic insularity had begun to wane, as all +observers agree that it did, about thirty years ago. It is true that the +mental operation in this matter reduces itself to fancying some of the +things which form what Mr. Matthew Arnold would call the peculiar "notes" +of England infinitely exaggerated--the rigidly aristocratic constitution of +society, for instance; the unęsthetic temper of the people; the private +character of most kinds of comfort and entertainment. Let an old gentleman +of conservative tastes, who can remember the century's youth, talk to you +at a club _temporis acti_--tell you wherein it is that from his own point +of view London, as a residence for a gentleman, has done nothing but fall +off for the last forty years. You will listen, of course, with an air of +decent sympathy, but privately you will be saying to yourself how +difficult a place of sojourn London must have been in those days for a +stranger--how little cosmopolitan, how bound, in a thousand ways, with +narrowness of custom. What is true of the metropolis at that time is of +course doubly true of the provinces; and a genteel little city like the one +I am speaking of must have been a kind of focus of insular propriety. Even +then, however, the irritated alien would have had the magnificent ruins of +the castle to dream himself back into good-humor in. They would effectually +have transported him beyond all waning or waxing Philistinisms. + +Ludlow Castle is an example of a great feudal fortress, as the little +castellated manor I spoke of a while since is an example of a small one. +The great courtyard at Ludlow is as large as the central square of a city, +but now it is all vacant and grassy, and the day I was there a lonely old +horse was tethered and browsing in the middle of it. The place is in +extreme dilapidation, but here and there some of its more striking features +have held well together, and you may get a very sufficient notion of the +immense scale upon which things were ordered in the day of its strength. It +must have been garrisoned with a small army, and the vast _enceinte_ must +have enclosed a stalwart little world. Such an impression of thickness and +duskiness as one still gets from fragments of partition and chamber--such a +sense of being well behind something, well out of the daylight and its +dangers--of the comfort of the time having been security, and security +incarceration! There are prisons within the prison--horrible unlighted +caverns of dismal depth, with holes in the roof through which Heaven knows +what odious refreshment was tossed down to the poor groping _détenu_. There +is nothing, surely, that paints one side of the Middle Ages more vividly +than this fact that fine people lived in the same house with their +prisoners, and kept the key in their pocket. Fancy the young ladies of the +family working tapestry in their "bower" with the knowledge that at the +bottom of the corkscrew staircase one of their papa's enemies was sitting +month after month in mouldy midnight! But Ludlow Castle has brighter +associations than these, the chief of which I should have mentioned at the +outset. It was for a long period the official residence of the +governors--the "lords presidents" they were called--of the Marches of +Wales, and it was in the days of its presidential splendor that Milton's +_Comus_ was acted in the great hall. Wandering about in shady corners of +the ruin, it is the echo of that enchanting verse that we should try to +catch, and not the faint groans of some encaverned malefactor. Other verse +was also produced at Ludlow--verse, however, of a less sonorous quality. A +portion of Samuel Butler's _Hudibras_ was composed there. Let me add that +the traveller who spends a morning at Ludlow will naturally have come +thither from Shrewsbury, of which place I have left myself no space to +speak, though it is worth, and well worth, an allusion. Shrewsbury is a +museum of beautiful old gabled, cross-timbered house-fronts. + +H. JAMES, JR. + + + + +LITTLE LIZAY. + + +Alston was a Virginia slave--a tall, well-built half-breed, in whom the +white blood dominated the black. When about thirty-seven years of age he +was sold to a Mississippi plantation, in the north-western part of the +State and on the river. The farm was managed by an overseer, the +master--Horton by name--being a practising physician in Memphis, Tenn. +Alston had been on the plantation a few weeks when, toward the last of +September, the cotton-picking season opened. The year had been, for the +river-plantations, exceptionally favorable for cotton-growing. On the +Horton place especially "the stand" had been pronounced perfect, there +being scarcely a gap, scarcely a stalk missing from the mile-long rows of +the broad fields. Then, the rainfall had not been so profuse as to develop +foliage at the bolls' expense, as was too frequently the case on the river. +Yet it had been plenteous enough to keep off the "rust," from which the +dryer upland plantations were now suffering. Neither the "boll-worm" nor +the dreaded "army-worm" had molested the river-fields; so the tall +pyramidal plants were thickly set with "squares" and green egg-shaped +bolls, smooth and shining as with varnish. On a single stalk might be seen +all stages of development--from the ripe, brown boll, parted starlike, with +the long white fleece depending, to the bean-sized embryo from which the +crimson flower had but just fallen. Indeed, among the wide-open bolls there +was an occasional flower, cream-hued or crimson according to its age, for +the cotton-bloom at opening resembles in color the magnolia-blossom, but +this changes quickly to a deep crimson. + +There was, then, the promise, almost the certainty, of a heavy crop on the +Horton place. It was in view of this that the owner completed an +arrangement, for months under consideration, in which he increased his +working plantation-force by thirteen hands, of whom one was Alston. It was, +too, in view of this promised heavy crop that the overseer, Mr. Buck, +harangued the slaves at the opening of the picking-season. The burden of +his harangue was, that no flagging would be tolerated in cotton-gathering +during the season. The figures of the past year were on record, showing +what each hand did each day. There was to be no falling behind these +figures: indeed, they must be beaten, for the heavier bolling made the +picking easier. Any one falling behind was to be cowhided. As for the new +hands, they ought to lead the field, for they were all young, stout +fellows. + +As has been said, Alston was tall, strong, well-made. Working in tobacco, +to whose culture he had been used, he could hold his hand with the best: +how would it be in this new business of cotton-picking? He had a strong +element of cheerful fidelity in his nature. The first day he worked +steadily and as rapidly as he was able at the unfamiliar employment. When +night came he reckoned he had done well. With a complacent feeling he stood +waiting his turn as the great baskets, one after another, were swung on the +steelyard and the weights announced. He found himself pitying some of the +pickers as light weights were called, wondering if they had fallen behind +last year's figures. When his basket was brought forward, it was by Big +Sam, who with one hand swung it lightly to the scales; yet Alston's thought +was, "How strong Big Sam is!" and never, "How light the basket!" + +The weight was announced: Alston was almost stunned. He had strained every +nerve, yet here he was behind the children-pickers, behind the gray old +women stiff with rheumatism and broken with childbearing and with doing +men's work. + +"Sixty-three pounds!" the overseer said with a threatening tone. "Min' yer +git a heap higher'n that ter-morrer, yer yaller raskel! Ef yer can't pick +cotton, yer'll be sol' down in Louzany to a sugar-plantation, whar' niggers +don't git nothin' ter eat 'cept cotton-seeds an' a few dreggy lasses." + +Next to being sent to "the bad place" itself, the most terrible fate, to +the negro's imagination, was to be sold to a sugar-planter. + +"Here's Big Sam," the overseer continued, "nigh unto three hunderd; an' +Little Lizay two hunderd an' fawty-seven.--That's the bigges' figger yer's +ever struck yit, Lizay: shows what yer kin do. Min' yer come up ter it +ter-morrer an' ev'ry other day." + +"Days gits shawter 'bout Chrismus-time," Little Lizay ventured to suggest, +"an' it gits col', an' my fingers ain't limber." + +"Don't give me none yer jaw. Reckon I knows 'nuff ter make 'lowances fer +col' an' shawt days an' scatterin' bolls an' sich like." + +The next day, Alston, humiliated by his failure and by the brutal reprimand +he had received, went to the cotton-field before any of the other +hands--indeed, before it was fairly light. There he worked if ever a man +did work. When the other negroes came on the field there were laughing, +talking, singing, nodding and occasional napping in the shade of the +cotton-stalks. But Alston took no part in any of these. He had no interest +for anything apart from his work. At this all his faculties were engaged. +His lithe body was seen swaying from side to side about the widespreading +branches; he stood on tiptoe to reach the topmost bolls; he got on his +knees to work the base-limbs, pressing down and away the long grass with +his broad feet, tearing and holding back even with his teeth hindering +tendrils of the passion-flower and morning-glory and other creepers which +had escaped the devastating hoe when the crop was "laid by," and had made +good their hold on occasional stalks. Persistently he worked in this intent +way all through the hot day, every muscle in action. He lingered at the +work till after the last of the other pickers had with great baskets poised +on head joined the long, weird procession, showing white in the dusk, that +went winding through field and lane to the ginhouse. On he worked till the +crescent moon came up and he could hardly discern fleece from leaf. At +last, fearing that the basket-weighing might be ended before he could reach +the ginhouse, a half mile distant, he emptied his pick-sack, belted at his +waist, into the tall barrel-like basket, tramped the cotton with a few +movements of his bare feet, and then kneeling got the basket to his +shoulder: he was not used to the balancing on head which seemed natural as +breathing to the old hands. With long strides he hurried to the ginhouse. +He was not a minute too early. Almost the last basket had been weighed, +emptied and stacked when he climbed the ladder-like steps to the scaffold +where the cotton was sunned preparatory to its ginning. When he had pushed +his way through the crowd of negroes hanging about the door of the +ginhouse-loft he heard the overseer call, "Whar's that yaller whelp, +Als'on?" + +"Here, sah," Alston answered, hurrying forward to put his basket on the +steelyard. + +"Give me any mo' yer jaw an' I'll lay yer out with the butt-en' er this +whip," said Mr. Buck. Alston was wondering what he had said that was +disrespectful, when the man added, "Won't have none yer sahrin' uv me. I's +yer moster, an' that's what yer's got ter call me, I let yer know." + +Alston's blood was up, but the slaves were used to self-repression. All +that was endurable in their lives depended on patience and submission. + +"Beg poddon, moster," Alston said with well-assumed meekness. "In Ol' +Virginny we use ter say moster to jist our sho'-'nuff owners; but," he +added quickly, by way of mollifying the overseer, who could not fail to be +stung by the covert jeer, "it's a heap better ter say moster ter all the +white folks, white trash an' all: then yer's sho' ter be right." + +At this speech there was in Mr. Buck's rear much grinning and eye-rolling. + +But Mr. Buck was engaged with Alston's basket, which was now on the scales. +"Sixty-seven poun's," the overseer called. + +The slave's heart sank: only four pounds' gain after all his toil early and +late! He was bitterly disappointed. He believed the overseer lied. Then his +heart burned. Couldn't he leave his basket unemptied, and weigh it himself +when the others were gone? No: the order of routine was peremptory. The +baskets must be emptied and stacked on the scaffold outside the +cotton-loft, so that there would be no chance the next morning for the +negroes to take away cotton in their baskets to the fields. And what if he +could reweigh his cotton, and prove Mr. Buck a liar? He would not dare +breathe the discovery. + +So Alston emptied out the cotton he had worked so hard to gather, listening +moodily to the overseer's harsh threats: "Yer reckon I's goin' to stan' +sich figgers? Sixty-seven poun's! fou' poun's 'head uv yistiddy. Yer ought +ter be fawty ahead. I won't look at nothin' under a hunderd. Ef yer don't +get it ter-morrer I'll tie yer up, sho's yer bawn, yer great merlatto dog! +Yer's 'hin' the poo'es' gal in the fiel'." + +"I never pick no cotton 'fo' yistiddy, an' its tolerbul unhandy. Rickon I +kin do better when I gits my han' in. I use ter could wuck fus'-rate in +tobaccy." + +"Tobaccy won't save yer. We hain't got no use for niggers ef they can't +come up ter the scratch on cotton. I's made a big crop, an' I ain't goin' +ter let it rot in the fiel'. Yer ought ter pick three hunderd ev'ry day. I +know'd a nigger onct, a heap littler than Little Lizay, that picked five +hunderd ev'ry lick; an' I hearn tell uv a feller that went up ter seven +hunderd. I ain't goin' ter take no mo' sixties from yer: a good hunderd or +the cowhide. That's the talk!" + +"I'll pick all I kin," said Alston: "I wuckt haud's I could ter-day." + +"Ef yer don't hush yer lyin' mouth I'll cut yer heart out." + +Alston went from the gin-loft, his blood tingling. On the sunning-scaffold +he encountered Little Lizay. She had been listening--had heard all that had +passed between the two men. She went down the scaffold-steps, and Alston +came soon after. She waited for him, and they walked to the "quarter" +together. "It's mighty haud, ain't it?" she said. + +"I believe he tol' a lie 'bout my baskit. Anyhow, I wuckt haud's I could +ter-day. I can't pick no hunderd poun's uv the flimpsy stuff. He'll have +ter cowhide me: I don't kere." + +But Alston did care keenly--not so much for the pain; he could bear worse +misery than the brutal arm could inflict, though the rawhide cut like a +dull knife; but it was the shame, the disgrace, of the thing. He was a +stranger on the place--only a few weeks there--and to be tied up and +flogged in the midst of strange, unsympathizing negroes! it was such +degradation to his manhood. Since he was a child he had not been struck. He +had been rather a favorite with his master in Virginia, but this master had +died in debt, leaving numerous heirs, and in the changes incident to a +partition of the estate Alston was sold. + +Perceiving that he had Little Lizay's sympathy, Alston went on talking, +telling her that he could stand a lashing coming from his own master, but +that an overseer was only white trash, who never did "own a nigger," and +never would be able to. If he had to be flogged, he wanted it to be by a +gentleman. + +"Never min'," said Little Lizay. "Maybe yer'll git mo' ter-morrer. When +yer's pickin' yer mus' quit stoppin' ter pick out the leaves an' trash. I +lets ev'rything go in that happens, green bolls an' all: they weighs +heavy." + +The following day, Alston, as before, went to the cotton-field early, but +he found that Little Lizay had the start of him. She had already emptied +her sack into her pick-basket. "The cotton we get now'll weigh heavy," she +said: "it's got dew on it." + +"That's so," Alston assented, "but yer mus'n't talk ter me, Lizay. I's got +ter put all my min' ter my wuck: I can't foad ter talk." + +"I can't nuther," said Lizay. "Wish I didn't pick so much cotton the fus' +day: I's got ter keep on trottin' ter two hunderd an' fawty-seven." + +She selected two rows beside Alston's. She wore a coarse dress of uncolored +homespun cotton, of the plainest and scantiest make, low in the neck, short +in the sleeves and skirt. Her feet and head were bare. A sack of like +material with her dress was tied about the waist, apron-like. This was to +receive immediately the pickings from the hand. When filled it was emptied +in a pick-basket, holding with a little packing fifty or sixty pounds. This +small basket was kept in the picker's vicinity, being moved forward +whenever the sack was taken back for emptying. Besides this go-between +pick-basket, there was at that end of the row nearest the ginhouse an +immense basket, nearly as tall as a barrel, and of greater circumference, +with a capacity for three hundred pounds. + +Alston's pick-basket stood beside Little Lizay's, and between his row and +hers. She was carrying two rows to his one, and he perceived, without +looking and with a vague envy, that Lizay emptied three sacks at least to +his one. Yet she did not seem to be working half as hard as he was. With +light, graceful movements, now right, now left, she plucked the white tufts +and the candelabra-like pendants stretched by the wind and the expanding +lint till the dark seed could be discerned in clusters. + +It was near nine o'clock when Alston emptied his first sack, some fifteen +pounds, in the pick-basket, which Little Lizay had brought forward with her +own. Soon after she went back to empty her sack. The baskets stood +hazardously near Alston for Lizay's game, but with her back turned to him +and the luxuriant cotton-stalks between she reckoned she might venture. +One-third of her sack she threw into Alston's basket--about five pounds. +And thus the poor soul did during the day, giving a third of her gatherings +to Alston. She would have given him more--the half, the whole, everything +she owned--for she regarded him with a feeling that would have been called +love in a fairer woman. + +Alston had been in Virginia something of a house-servant, doing occasional +duty as coachman when the regular official was ill or was wanted elsewhere. +He was also a good table-waiter, and had served in the dining-room when +there were guests. So it came that though properly a field-hand, yet in +manner and speech he showed to advantage beside the slaves who were +exclusively field-hands. Little Lizay too occupied a halfway place between +these and the better-spoken, gentler-mannered house-servants. In the +winters, after Christmas, which usually terminated the picking-season, +Lizay was called to the place of head assistant of the plantation +seamstress. Indeed, she did little field-service except in times of special +pressure and during the quarter of cotton-picking. She was so +nimble-fingered and swift that she could not be spared from the field in +picking-season, especially if, as was the case this year, there was a heavy +crop. And occasionally in the winter, when there was unusual company at the +Hortons' in the city, Little Lizay was sent for and had the advantage of a +season in town. She felt her superiority to the average plantation-negro, +and had not married, though not unsolicited. When, therefore, Alston came +she at once recognized in him a companion, and she was not long in making +over her favor to the distinguished-looking stranger. He was, as she, a +half-breed, and Lizay liked her own color. Had Alston courted her favor, +she might have yielded it less readily, but he did not take easily to his +new companions. Some called him proud: others reckoned he had left a +sweetheart, a wife perhaps, in Virginia. Little Lizay's evident preference +laid her open to the rude jokes and sneers of the other negroes--in +particular Big Sam, who was her suitor, and Edny Ann, who was fond of +Alston. But Edny Ann did not care for Alston as Little Lizay did--could +not, indeed. She was incapable of the devotion that Lizay felt. She would +not have left her sleep and gone to the dew-wet field before daybreak for +the sake of helping Alston: she would not have taken the risk of falling +behind in her picking, and thus incurring a flogging, by dividing her +gatherings with him. And if she had helped him at all, it would not have +been delicately, as Lizay's help had been given. Edny Ann would have wanted +Alston to know that she had helped him: Little Lizay wished to hide it from +him, both because she feared he would decline her help, and because she +wanted to spare him the humiliation. + +When night came not only Alston lingered, picking by moonlight, but Little +Lizay; and this gave rise to much laughing among the other pickers, and to +many coarse jokes. But to one who knew her secret it would have seemed +piteous--the girl's anxious face as the weighing proceeded, drawing on and +on to Alston's basket and hers at the very end of the line. Would he have +a hundred? would she fall behind? Would he be saved the flogging? would she +have to suffer in his stead? She dreaded a flogging at the hands of that +brutal overseer, and all her womanliness shrunk from the degradation of +being stripped and flogged in Alston's presence, or even of having him know +that she was to be cowhided. She bethought her of making an appeal to the +overseer. She knew she had some power with him, for he had been enamored, +in his brutish way, of her physical charms--her neat figure, her glossy, +waving hair, and the small, shapely hand and foot. + +Just before the weighing had reached Alston's basket and hers she stepped +beside the overseer. "Please, Mos' Buck," she said in a low tone, "ef I +falls 'hin' myse'f, an' don't git up to them fus' figgers, an' has to git +cowhided--please, sah, don't let the black folks an' Als'on know 'bout it." + +Mr. Buck took a hint from this request. He perceived that Lizay was +interested in Alston, as he had already guessed from the jokes of the +negroes, and that she was specially desirous to conceal her shame from the +man to whom she had given her favor. Mr. Buck resented it that Lizay should +rebuff him and encourage Alston; so he hoped that for this once, at any +rate, she would fall behind: he had thought of a capital plan of revenging +himself on her. + +The next moment after her whispered appeal Lizay saw with intense interest +Alston's basket brought forward for weighing. She glanced at him. His eyes +were wide open, staring with eagerness, his head advanced, his whole +attitude one of absorbed anxiety. By the position of the weight or pea on +the steelyard she knew that it was put somewhere near the sixty notch. Up +flew the end of the yard, and up flew Lizay's heart with it: out went the +pea some ten teeth, yet up again went the impatient steel. Click! click! +click! rattled the weight. Out and out another ten notches, then another +and another--one hundred, one hundred and one, one hundred and two, one +hundred and three--yet the yard still protested, still called for more. +Out one tooth farther, and the steel lay along the horizon. Everybody +listened. + +"One hunderd an' fou'," Mr. Buck announced. "Thar' now, yer lazy dog! I +know'd yer wasn't half wuckin'. Now see ter it yer come ter taw arter this: +hunderd an' fou's yer notch." + +It was a moment of supreme relief to Alston. He drew a long breath, and +returned some smiles of congratulation from the negroes. Then he sighed: he +felt hopeless of repeating the weight day after day. He had hardly stopped +to breathe from day-dawn till moon-rise: he would not always have the +friendly moonlight to help him. But now Little Lizay's basket was swinging. +He listened to hear its weight with interest, but how unlike this was to +the absorbed anxiety which she had felt for him! + +"Two hunderd an' 'leven--thutty-six poun's behin'!" said Mr. Buck, smacking +his lips as over some good thing. Now he should have vent for his spite +against the girl. "Thutty-six lashes on yer bar' back by yer sweet'art." +Mr. Buck said this with a dreadful snicker in Little Lizay's face. + +The word ran like wildfire from mouth to mouth that Little Lizay, the +famous picker, had fallen behind, and was to be flogged--by the overseer, +some said--by Big Sam, others declared. But Edny Ann reckoned the cowhiding +was to be done by Alston. + +"An' her dersarves it, kase her's a big fool," said Edny Ann, "hangin' +roun' him, an' patchin' his cloze like her wus morred ter 'im--an' washin' +his shut an' britches ev'ry Saddy night." + +All the hands were required to stop after the weighing and witness the +floggings, as a warning to themselves and an enhancement of punishment to +the convicts. There was but little shrinking from the sight. Human nature +is everywhere much the same: cruel spectacles brutalize, whether in Spain +or on a negro-plantation. But to-night there was a new sensation: the +slaves were on the _qui vive_ to see Little Lizay flogged, and to find out +whose hand was to wield the whip. + +"Now hurry up yere, yer lazy raskels! an' git yer floggin'," Mr. Buck said +when the weighing was over. + +From right and left and front and rear negroes came forward and stood, a +motley group, before the one white man. It was a weird spectacle that did +not seem to belong to our earth. Black faces, heads above heads, crowded at +the doorway--some solemn and sympathetic, others grinning in anticipation +of the show. Negroes were perched on the gin and in the corners of the loft +where the cotton was heaped. Others lay at full length close to the field +of action. In every direction the dusky figures dotted the cotton lying on +every hand about the little cleared space where the flogging and weighing +were done. In a close bunch stood the shrinking, cowering convicts, some +with heads white as the cotton all about them. Mr. Buck, the most +picturesque figure of the whole, was laying off his coat and baring his +arm, standing under the solitary lamp depending from the rafters, whose +faint light served to give to all the scene an indefinite supernatural +aspect. + +"Now, come out yere," said Mr. Buck, moving from under the grease-lamp and +calling for volunteers. + +One by one the negroes came forward and bared themselves to the +waist--children, strong men and old women. And then there was shrieking and +wailing, begging and praying: it was like a leaf out of hell. + +Little Lizay was among the first of the condemned to present herself, for +she felt an intolerable suspense as to what awaited her. The vague terror +in her face was discerned by the dim light. + +As she stepped forward Mr. Buck called out, "Als'on!" + +"Yes, moster," Alston answered. + +"What yer sneakin' in that thar' corner fer? Come up yere, you--" but his +vile sentence shall not be finished here. + +Alston came forward with a statuesque face. + +"Take this rawhide," was the order he received. + +He put out his hand, and then, suddenly realizing the requisition that was +to be made on him, realizing that he was to flog Little Lizay, his +confidante and sympathizing friend, his hand dropped cold and limp. + +"Yerdar' ter dis'bey me?" Mr. Buck bellowed. "I'll brain yer: I'll--" + +"I didn't go ter do it, moster," Alston said, reaching for the whip. "I'll +whip her tell yer tells me ter stop." + +"He didn't go ter do it, Mos' Buck," pleaded Little Lizay, frightened for +Alston. "He'll whip me ef yer'll give 'im the whip.--I's ready, Als'on." + +She crossed her arms over her bare bosom and shook her long hair forward: +then dropped her face low and stood with her back partly turned to Alston, +who now had the whip. + +"Fire away!" said the overseer. + +Alston was not a refined gentleman, whose youth had been hedged from the +coarse and degrading, whose good instincts had been cherished, whose +faculties had been harmoniously trained. He was not a hero: he was not +prepared to espouse to the death Little Lizay's cause--to risk everything +for the shrinking, helpless woman and for his own manhood--to die rather +than strike her. He was only a slave, used from his cradle to the low and +cruel and brutalizing. But he had the making of a man in him: his nature +was one that could never become utterly base. But there was no help, no +hope, for either of them in anything he could do. He might knock Mr. Buck +senseless, sure of the sympathy of every slave on the plantation. There +would be a brief triumph, but he and Little Lizay would have to pay for it: +bloodhounds, scourgings, chains, cruelty that never slept and could never +be placated, were sure as fate. Resistance was inevitable disaster. + +Alston did not need to stand there undetermined while he went over this: it +was familiar ground. Over and over again he had settled it: it was madness +for the slave to oppose himself to the dominant white man. + +So, after his first unreasoning recoil, his mind was decided to adminster +the flogging. Would it not be a mercy to Little Lizay for him to do this +rather than that other hand, energized by hate, revenge and cruelty? + +He raised his arm, with his heart beating hot and his manhood shrinking: he +struck Little Lizay's bare shoulders. She had nerved herself, but the blow, +after all, surprised her and made her start; and she had not quite +recovered herself when the second blow fell, so that she winced again; but +after that she stood like a statue. + +"Harder!" cried Mr. Buck after the first few lashes. "None yer tomfool'ry +'bout me. She ain't no baby. Harder! I tell yer. Yer ain't draw'd no blood +nary time. Ef yer don't min' me I'll knock yer down. Yer whips like yer wus +'feard yer'd hurt 'er. Yer ac' like yer never whipped no nigger sence yer +wus bawn. Yer's got ter tiptoe ter it, an' fling yer arm back at a better +lick 'an that. Look yere: ef yer don't lick her harder I'll make Big Sam +lick yer till yer see sights." + +At length the wretched work was ended, and the negroes made their way along +the moonlighted lanes to their cabins. These were single rooms, built of +unhewn logs, chinked and daubed with yellow mud. They had puncheon floors +and chimneys built of sticks and clay. Of clay also were the all-important +jambs, which served as depositories of perhaps every household article +pertaining to the cabin except the bedding and the stools. There might have +been found the household knife and spoon, the two or three family tin cups, +the skillet, the pothooks, sundry gourd vessels, the wooden tray in which +the "cawn" bread was mixed--pipe, tobacco and banjo. + +On the Horton place the negroes cooked their own suppers after the day's +work was over. So for an hour every evening "the quarter" had an animated +aspect, for the cabins, standing five yards apart, faced each other in two +long lines. In each was a glowing fire, on which logs and pine-knots and +cypress-splints were laid with unsparing hand, for there was no limit to +the fuel. These fires furnished the lights: candles and lamps were unknown +at "the quarter." + +Of course the windowless cabins, with these roaring fires, were stifling +in September; so the negroes sat in the doorways chatting and singing while +the bacon was frying and the corn dough roasting in the ashes or the +hoecake baking on the griddle. An occasional woman patched or washed some +garment by the firelight, while others brought water in piggins from the +spring at the foot of the hill on whose brow "the quarter" was located. + +As Alston sat outside his door on a block, eating his supper by the light +of the high-mounting flames of his cabin-fire, Little Lizay came out and +sat on her doorsill. Her cabin stood opposite his. He recognized her, and +when he had finished his supper he went over to her. + +"I didn't want ter strike yer, Lizay," he said. "Do you feel haud agin me +fer it?" + +"No," Lizay answered: "he made yer do it. Yer couldn't he'p it. I reckon +yer'll have ter whip me agin ter-morrer night. I mos' knows my baskit won't +weigh no two hunderd an' fawty-seven poun's. 'Tain't fa'r ter 'spec' that +much from me: it's a heap more'n tother gals gits, an' mos' all uv um is +heap bigger'n me. I's small pertatoes." She laughed a little at her jest. + +"Yer's some punkins," said Alston, returning the joke. "I'd give a heap ef +I could pick cotton like yer." + +"Yer's improved a heap," said Little Lizay. "Ef yer keeps on improvin', +mayby yer'll git so yer kin he'p me arter 'while." + +"Mayby so," Alston answered. + +"But yer wouldn't he'p me, I reckon. Reckon yer'd he'p Edny Ann: yer likes +her better'n me." + +"No, I don't." + +"Reckon yer likes somebody in Virginny more'n yer likes anybody on this +plantation." + +"I's better 'quainted back thar'," said Alston apologetically. + +"But thar' ain't no use hankerin' arter them yer's lef 'hin' yer: reckon +yer won't never see um no mo'. Heap better git sati'fied yere. It's a long +way back thar', ain't it?" + +"A mighty long way," said Alston; and then he was silent, his thoughts +going back and back over the long way. + +Lizay recalled him: "Was yer sorry yer had ter whip me?" + +"I was mighty sorry, Little Lizay," he replied with a strong tone of +tenderness that made her heart beat faster. "I would er knocked that white +nigger down, but it wouldn't er he'ped nothin'. Things would er jus' been +wusser." + +"Yes," Lizay assented, "nothin' won't he'p us: ain't no use in nothin'." + +"Reckon I'll go in an' go ter sleep," said Alston: "got ter git up early in +the mawnin'." + +He _was_ up early the next morning, he and Little Lizay being again in the +cotton-field before dawn. All through the day there was, as before, +persistent devotion to the picking; then the holding on after dusk for one +more pound; the same result at night--the man up to the required figure, +the woman behind, this time forty-one pounds behind. Again she received a +cowhiding at Alston's hands. + +"What yer mean by this yere foolin'?" Mr. Buck demanded in a rage of Little +Lizay. "Yer reckon I's gwine ter stan' this yere? Two hunderd an' +fawty-seven 'gin two hunderd an' six! It's all laziness an' mulishness. +I'll git yer outen that thar' notch, else I'll kill yer. Look yere: +ter-morrer, ef yer don't come ter taw, I'll give yer twict es many licks es +the poun's yer falls behin'." + +Did this threat frighten Little Lizay out of her devotion? + +"Two hunderd is 'nuff fer a little gal like yer," Alston said the next +morning. "Save my life, I can't pick no more'n a hunderd an' a few poun's +mo'. I wouldn't stan' ter be flogged ef I'd done my shar'." + +"Got ter stan' it--can't he'p myse'f." + +"I'd go ter town an' tell Mos' Hawton. I's tolerbul sho' he wouldn't 'low +yer ter git twict es many licks, nohow. Mos' Hawton's tolerbul good ter his +black folks, ain't he?" + +"Yes, tolerbul--to the house-sarvants he's got in town; but he jist goes +'long mindin' his business thar', an' don't pay no 'tention sca'cely ter +his plantation. He don't want us ter come 'plainin' ter him. He's mighty +busy--gits a heap er practice, makes a heap er money. He went down the +river onct, more'n a hunderd miles, ter cut somethin' off a man--I fawgits +what 'twas--an' the man paid him hunderds an' hunderds an' hunderds--I +fawgits how much 'twas." + +Here Little Lizay found that Alston was no longer listening, but was +absorbed with the cotton-picking. + +That day, to save the pickers' time, their bacon and corn pones were +brought out to the field by wagon in wooden trays and buckets. There were +three cotton-baskets filled with corn dodgers. Alston and Little Lizay sat +not far apart while eating their dinners. + +"I reckon I's gittin' 'long tolerbul well ter-day," he said. "Dun know for +sar-tin, but looks like the pickin' wus heap handier than at fus'. Look +yere, Lizay: ef I know'd I'd git more'n a hunderd I'd he'p yer 'long: I'd +give yer the balance. Couldn't stave off all the floggin', but I might save +yer some licks." + +"Take kere yer ownse'f, Als'on. I don't min' the las' few licks: they don't +never hut bad es the fus' ones." This was Little Lizay's answer, given with +glowing cheek and eyes looking down. To her own heart she said, "I likes +him better'n he likes me. Reckon he can't git over mou'nin' fer somebody in +Virginny." She wondered if he had left a wife back there: she would test +him. "Reckon yer'll hear from yer wife any mo', Als'on?" she said. + +"Yes, reckon I will. She said she'd write me a letter. She didn't b'long +ter my ol' moster: she b'longed ter Squire Minor. I tuck a wife off'en our +plantation. She's goin' ter ax her moster ter sell her an' the childun to +Mos' Hawton, and I's waitin' ter fin' out ef he'll sell 'um. I ain't goin' +ter cou't no other gal tell I fin's out." + +"Yer hopes he'll sell her, don't yer?" Little Lizay asked with an anxious +heart. + +"She wus a mighty good wife," said Alston, without committing himself by a +categorical answer. "Would seem like Ol' Virginny ter have her an' the +childun, but they's better off thar'. They couldn't pick cotton, I reckon. +Her moster an' mistiss thinks a heap uv her: she's one the cooks. I don't +reckon they kin spaw her." + +"Don't yer, sho' 'nuff?" + +"No, I don't reckon they kin, 'cause one Mis' Minor's cooks is gittin' ol' +an' can't see good--Aunt Juno. She wucks up flies an' sich into the cawn +bread. They wants ter put my wife into her place, but they can't git shet +with Aunt Juno: she's jis' boun' she'll do the white folks' cookin'. She +says thar' ain't no use in bein' free ef she can't do what she pleases: +they set her free Chrismus 'fo' las'. But law, Lizay! we mus' hurry up an' +get ter pickin'." + +That night Lizay had gained on her basket of the preceding day by five and +a half pounds, and Alston had fallen behind his by four. But as he was +still over a hundred he escaped a flogging. Mr. Buck, being unable to +reckon exactly the number of lashes to which Little Lizay was entitled, +gave the rawhide the benefit of any doubt and ordered Alston to administer +seventy-five lashes. + +The next day nothing noticeable occurred in the lives of these two slaves, +except that Alston's basket fell yet behind: Mr. Buck acknowledged it was a +"hunderd, but a mighty tight squeeze," while Little Lizay's had gained +three pounds on the last weight. + +"Yer saved six lashes ter-day, Little Lizay," Alston said. He was evidently +glad for her, and her hungry heart was glad that he cared. + +"An' yer didn't haudly git clear," she replied, adding to herself that +to-morrow she must be more generous with her help to Alston. + +But on the morrow something occurred which dismayed the girl. She had +shaken her sack over Alston's basket, designing to empty a third of its +contents there, and then the remainder in her "pick." But the cotton was +closely packed in the sack, and almost the whole of it tumbled in a compact +mass into Alston's basket. He would not need so much help as this to ensure +him, so she proceeded to transfer a portion of the heap to her basket. +Suddenly she started as though shot. Some one was calling to her and making +a terrible accusation. The some one was Edny Ann: "Yer's stealin' thar': I +see'd yer do it--see'd yer takin' cotton outen Als'on's baskit. Ain't yer +shame, yer yaller good-fer-nuffin'? I's gwine ter tell." This was the +terrible accusation. + +"Yer dun know nothin' 'tall 'bout it," said Little Lizay. "It's my cotton. +I emptied it in Als'on's baskit when I didn't go ter do it. I ain't tuck a +sol'tary lock er Als'on's cotton; an' I wouldn't, nuther, ter save my +life." + +"Reckon yer kin fool me?" demanded the triumphant Edny Ann. Then she called +Alston with the _O_ which Southerners inevitably prefix: "O Als'on! O +Als'on! come yere! quick!" + +"Don't, please don't, tell him," Little Lizay pleaded. "I'll give yer my +new cal'ker dress ef yer won't tell nobody." + +But Edny Ann went on calling: "O Als'on! O Als'on! come yere!" + +Little Lizay pleaded in a frantic way for silence as she saw Alston coming +with long strides up between the cotton-rows toward them. + +"I wants yer ter ten' ter Lizay," said Edny Ann. "Her's been stealin' yer +cotton: see'd 'er do it--see'd 'er take a heap er cotton outen yer baskit +an' ram it into hern. Did so!" + +Then you should have seen the man's face. Had it been white you could not +have discerned any plainer the surprise, the disappointment, the grief. +Lizay saw with an indefinable thrill the sadness in his eyes, heard the +grief in his voice. + +"I didn't reckon yer'd do sich a thing, Lizay," he said. "I know it's +mighty haud on yer, gittin' cowhided ev'ry night, but stealin' ain't goin' +ter he'p it, Lizay." + +"I never stole yer cotton, Als'on," Little Lizay said with a certain +dignity, but with an unsteady voice. + +"I see'd yer do it," Edny Ann interrupted. + +"I emptied my sack in yer baskit when I didn't go ter do it," Little Lizay +continued. "It wus my own cotton I wus takin' out yer baskit." + +"Ef yer deny it, Lizay, yer'll make it wusser." Then Alston went up close +to her, so that Edny Ann might not hear, and said something in a low tone. + +Lizay gave him a swift look of surprise: then her lip began to quiver; the +quick tears came to her eyes; she put both hands to her face and cried +hard, so that she could not have found voice if she had wished to tell +Alston her story. He went back to his row, and left her there crying beside +the pick-baskets. He returned almost immediately, shouldered his basket, +and went away from her to another part of the field, leaving his row +unfinished. He wondered how much cotton Lizay had taken from his basket--if +its weight would be brought down below a hundred; and meditated what he +should do in case he was called up to be flogged by the brutal overseer. +Should he stand and take the lashing, trusting to Heaven to make it up to +him some day? or should he knock the overseer senseless and make a strike +for freedom? Where was freedom? Which was the way to the free North? In +Virginia he would have known in what direction to set his face for Ohio, +but here everything was new and strange. + +However, he had no occasion for a desperate movement that night. His basket +weighed one hundred and seven, while Little Lizay's had fallen lower than +ever before. Alston thought it was because she had missed her chance of +transferring the usual quantity of cotton from his basket. + +The striking of Lizay had never seemed so abhorrent to him as on this +night, now that there was estrangement between them. She was already +humiliated in his sight, and to raise his hand against her was like +striking a fallen foe. She would think that he was no longer sorry--that he +was glad to repay the wrong she had done him. + +In the mean time, Edny Ann had told the story of the theft to one and +another, and Lizay found at night the "quarter" humming with it. Taunts and +jeers met her on every hand. Stealing from white folks the negroes regarded +as a very trifling matter, since they, the slaves, had earned everything +there was: but to steal from "a po' nigger" was the meanest thing in their +decalogue. + +"Stealin' from her beau!" sneered one negro, commenting on Little Lizay's +offence. + +"An' her sweet'art!" said another. + +"An' her 'tendin' like her lubbed 'im!" + +"An' Als'on can't pick cotton fas', nohow, kase he ain't use ter +cotton--neber see'd none till he come yere--an' her know'd he'd git a +cowhidin'. It's meaner'n boneset tea," said Edny Ann. + +"A heap meaner," assented Cat. "Sich puffawmance's wusser'n stealin' acawns +frum a blin' hog." + +Over and over Little Lizay said, "I never stole Als'on's cotton;" and then +she would make her explanation, as she had made it to Edny Ann and Alston. +Often she was tempted to tell the whole story of how she had been all along +helping Alston at her own cost, but many motives restrained her. She +dreaded the jeers and jests to which the story would subject her, and +everything was to be feared from Mr. Buck's retaliation should he learn +that he had been tricked. Besides, she wished, if possible, to go on +helping Alston. She doubted, too, if he would receive it well that she had +been helping him. Might he not gravely resent it that through her action +such a pitiable part in the drama had been forced on him? Then there was +something sweet to Little Lizay in suffering all alone for Alston--in +having this secret unshared: she respected herself more that she did not +risk everything to vindicate herself, for this she could do: the steelyard +to-morrow would demonstrate the truth of her story. + +But the morrow came, and she went out to the field, her story untold, a +marked woman. Yet she was not comfortless. The something that Alston had +told her the previous day was making her heart sing. This is what he told +her: "While yer wus stealin' from me, Lizay, I wus he'pin' yer. I put a +ha'f er sack in yer baskit ter-day, an' a ha'f er sack yistiddy--kase I +liked yer, Lizay." + +She took her rows beside Alston's as usual, determined to watch for a +chance to help him. But when he moved away from her and took another row, +Lizay knew that the time had come. She couldn't stand it to have him strain +and tug and bend to his work as no other hand in the field did, only to be +disappointed at night. She could never bear it that he should be flogged +after all she had done to save him from the shame. She could never live +through it--the cowhiding of her hero by the detested overseer. Yes, the +time had come: she must tell Alston. + +She went over to where he had begun a new row. "Yer don't b'lieve the tale +I tole yistiddy, Als'on: yer's feared I'll steal yer cotton ter-day," she +said. + +"I don't wish no talk 'bout it, Lizay," Alston said. His tone was half sad, +half peremptory. + +"Yer mustn't feel haud agin me ef I tells you somethin', Als'on. Yer's been +puttin' cotton in my baskit unbeknownst ter save me some lashes, an' yer +throw'd it up ter me yistiddy. Now, look yere, Als'on: I's been he'pin' yer +all this week, ever since Mr. Buck said yer got ter git a hunderd. Ev'ry +day I's he'ped yer git up ter a hunderd." + +Alston had stopped picking, both his hands full of cotton, and stood +staring in a bewildered way at the girl. "Lizay, is this a fac'?" he said +at length. + +"'Tis so, Als'on; an' ef yer don't lemme he'p yer now yer'll fall 'hin' an' +have ter git flogged." + +"An' ef yer he'p me, yer'll fall shawt an' have ter git flogged. Oh, Lizay, +thar' never was nobody afo' would er done this yer fer me," Alston said, +feeling that he would like to kiss the poor shoulders that had been +scourged for him. Great tears gathered in his eyes, and he thought without +speaking the thought, "My wife in Virginny wouldn't er done it." + +"So yer mus' lemme he'p yer ter-day," said Little Lizay. + +"I'll die fus'," he said in a savage tone. + +"Oh, yer'll git a whippin', Als'on, sho's yer bawn." + +"No: I won't take a floggin' from that brute." + +"Oh, Als'on, yer jis' got ter: yer can't he'p the miserbulness. No use +runnin' 'way: they'd ketch yer an' bring yer back. Thar's nigger-hunters +an' blood-houn's all roun' this yer naberhood. Yer couldn't git 'way ter +save yer life." + +"Look yere, Lizay," Alston said with sudden inspiration: "le's go tell +Mos' Hawton all 'bout it. Ef he's a genulman he'll 'ten' ter us. They won't +miss us till night, an' 'fo' that time we'll be in Memphis. Yer knows the +way, don't yer?" + +"Yes," Lizay said; "an' I reckon that's the bes' thing we kin do--go tell +moster an' mistis. But, law! I ought er go pull off this yere ole homespun +dress an' put on my new cal'ker." + +"I reckon we ain't got no time ter dress up," said Alston. "We mus' start +quick: come 'long. Le's hide our baskits fus' whar' the cotton-stalks is +thick." + +This they did, and then started off at a brisk pace, their flight concealed +by the tall cotton-plants. They reached Memphis about eleven o'clock, and +found Dr. Horton at home, having just finished his lunch. They were +admitted at once to the dining-room, where the doctor sat picking his +teeth. He had never seen Alston, as the new negroes had been bought by an +agent. + +"Sarvant, moster!" Alston said humbly, but with dignity. + +"Howdy, moster?" was Little Lizay's more familiar salutation. + +"I's Als'on, one yer new boys from Ol' Virginny." + +"You're a likely-lookin' fellow," said the doctor, who was given to +dropping final consonants in his speech. "I reckon I'll hear a good report +of you from Mr. Buck. You look like you could stan' up to work like a +soldier. But what's brought you and Little Lizay to the city? Anything gone +wrong?" + +"Yes, moster," said Alston--"mighty wrong. Look yere, Mos' Hawton: when I +come on yer plantation I made up my min' ter sarve yer faithful--ter wuck +fer yer haud's I could--ter strike ev'ry lick I could fer yer. When I hoed +cawn an' pulled fodder I went 'head er all the han's on yer plantation. But +when I went ter pick cotton I wusn't use ter it. I wuckt haud's I could, +'fo' day an' arter dark. Mos' Hawton, I couldn't pick a poun' more'n I pick +ter save my life. But I wus 'hin' all t'other han's. Then Mos' Buck wus +goin' ter flog me ef I didn't git a hunderd: then Little Lizay, her he'ped +me unbeknownst: ev'ry day she puts cotton in my baskit ter fetch it ter a +hunderd, an' that made her fall 'hin' las' year's pickin'; then ev'ry night +she was stripped an' cowhided; but she kep' on he'pin' me, an' kep' on +gettin' whipped. I dun know what she dun it fer: 'min's me uv the Laud on +the cross." + +Dr. Horton knew what she did it for. His knightliness was touched to the +quick. The story made him wish as never before to be a better master than +he had ever been to his poor people. He asked many questions, and drew +forth all the facts, Lizay telling how Alston was helping her while she was +helping him. Dr. Horton saw that here was a romance in slave-life--that the +man and woman were in love with each other. + +"Well, if you can't pick cotton," he said to Alston, "what can you do?" + +"Mos' anything else, moster. I kin do ev'rything 'bout cawn; I kin split +rails; I kin plough; I kin drive carriage." + +"Could you run a cotton-gin?" + +"Reckon so, moster: the black folks says it's tolerbul easy." + +"Well, now, look here: you and Lizay get some dinner, an' then do you take +a back-trot for the plantation. I'll sen' Buck a note: no, he can't more'n +half read writin'. Well, do you tell him, Alston, to put you to ginnin' +cotton: Little Sam mus' work with you a few days till you get the hang of +the thing; an' then I want you to show that plantation what 'tis to serve +master faithfully. You see, I believe in you, my man." + +"Thanky, moster. I'll wuck fer yer haud's I kin. Please God, I'll sarve yer +faithful." + +"Of cou'se, Lizay, you'll go back to pickin' cotton, an' don't let me hear +any mo' of you' nonsense--helpin' a strappin' fellow twice you' size. An' +tell Buck I won't have him whippin' any my negroes ev'ry night in the week. +Confound it! a mule couldn't stan' it. If I've got a negro that needs +floggin' ev'ry night, I'll sell him or give 'im away, or turn 'im out to +grass to shif' for himself. I'll be out there soon, an' 'ten' to things. If +anybody needs a floggin', tell Buck to send 'im to me. Tell the folks to +work like clever Christians, an' they shall have a fus'-rate Christmas--a +heap of Christmas-gifts." + +"Yes, moster." + +"Do you an' Lizay want to get married right away, or wait till Christmas?" + +Alston and Little Lizay looked at each other, smiling in an embarrassed +way. + +"But, moster," said Alston, "I's got a wife an' fou' childun in Ol' +Virginny, an' I promused I'd wait an' wouldn't git morred ag'in tell she'd +write ter me ef her moster'd sell her; an' I was goin' ter ax yer ter buy +'er." + +"You needn't pester yourself about that. I got a letter for you the other +day from her," the doctor said, fumbling in his pockets. + +"Yer did, sah?" Alston said with interest. + +"Yes: here it is. Can you read? or shall I read it to you?" + +"Ef yer please, moster." + +Then Dr. Horton read: + +"MY DEAR B'LOVED HUSBUN': Miss Marthy Jane takes my pen in han' ter let yer +know I's well, an' our childun's well, an' all the black folks is tolerbul +well 'cept Juno: her's got the polsy tolerbul bad. All the white folks +'bout yere is will 'cept mistis: her's got the dumps. All the childun say, +Howdy? the black folks all says, Howdy? an' Pete says, Howdy? an' Andy +says, Howdy? an' Viny says, Howdy? an' Cinthy says, Howdy? an' Tony Tucker +says, Howdy? and Brudder Thomas Jeff'son Hollan' says, Howdy? Last time I +see'd Benj'man Franklins Bedfud, he says, ''Member, an' don't fawgit, the +fus' time yer writes, ter tell Als'on, Howdy?' + +"Yer 'fectionate wife, CHLOE." + +"P.S. Mistis says her can't spaw me, so 'tain't no use waitin' no longer +fer me. 'Sides, I got 'gaged ter git morred: I wus morred Sundy 'fo' las' +at quat'ly meetin'. Brudder Mad'son Mason puffawmed the solemn cer'mony, +an' preached a beautiful discou'se. Me an' my secon' husbun' gits 'long +fus'-rate. I fawgot ter tell yer who I got morred to. I got morred to +Thomas Jeff'son Hollan'." + +"So you're a free man," said Dr. Horton, folding the letter and handing it +to Alston. "You an' Little Lizay can get married to-day, right now, if you +wish to. Uncle Moses can marry you: he's a member of the Church in good an' +regular standin': I don't know but he's an exhorter, or class-leader, or +somethin'. What do you say? Shall I call him in an' have him tie you +together?" + +"Thanky, moster, ef Little Lizay's willin'.--Is yer, Lizay?" + +"I reckon so," said Lizay, her heart beating in gladness. But she +nevertheless glanced down at her coarse field-dress and thought with +longing of the new calico in her cabin. + +So Uncle Moses was called in, and Mrs. Horton and all the children and +servants. + +"Uncle Moses," said Dr. Horton, "did you ever marry anybody?" + +"To be sho', Mos' Hawton. I's morred--Lemme see how many wives has I morred +sence I fus' commenced?" + +"Oh, I don't mean that;" and Dr. Horton proceeded to explain what he did +mean. + +"No," said Moses. "I never done any that business, but reckon I could: I's +done things a heap hauder." + +"Well, let me see you try your han' on this couple." + +"Well," said Uncle Moses, "git me a book: got ter have a Bible, or +hymn-book, or cat'chism, or somethin'." + +The doctor gravely handed over a pocket edition of _Don Quixote_, which +happened to lie in his reach. + +Uncle Moses took it for a copy of the _Methodist Discipline_, and made +pretence of seeking for the marriage ceremony. At length he appeared +satisfied that he had the right page, and stood up facing the couple. + +"Jine boff yer right han's," he solemnly commanded. Then, with his eyes on +the book, he repeated the marriage service, with some remarkable +emendations. "An' ef yer solemnly promus," he said in conclusion, "ter lub +an' 'bey one 'nuther tell death pawts yer, please de Laud yer lib so long, +I pernounces boff yer all man an' wife." + +Then the mistress looked about and got together a basket of household +articles for the new couple. Bearing this between them, Alston and Little +Lizay went back to the plantation and to their unfinished rows of cotton, +happy, poor souls! pathetic as it seems. + +SARAH WINTER KELLOGG. + + + + +THE BASS OF THE POTOMAC. + + +Some twenty-five years ago Mr. William Shriver, a primitive pisciculturist, +took from the Youghiogheny River eleven black bass, and conveyed them in +the tank of the tender of a locomotive to Cumberland, in the coal-region of +Western Maryland. There he deposited them in the Potomac, with the +injunction which forms the heraldic motto of the State of +Maryland--_Crescite et multiplicamini_. The first part of this excellent +precept they obeyed by proceeding to devour all the aboriginal fish in the +river, and waxing extremely hearty upon the liberal diet. The second they +performed with a diligence so commendable that the name of them in the +river became as legion, and the original possessors of the waters were +steadily extirpated or took despairingly to small rivulets, and led ever +after a life of undeserved ignominy and obscurity. There were bass in the +river from the Falls of the Potomac, near Georgetown, to a point as near +its source as any self-respecting fish could approach without detriment to +the buttons on his vest by reason of the shallowness of the water. They +were in all its tributaries, and in fact monopolized its waters completely. +Had the supply of small fish for food held out, it is impossible to say to +what extent they would have increased. They might in their numerical +enormity have rivalled the condition of that famous river, the Wabash, +which in a certain season of excessive dryness became so low that a local +journal of established veracity described the fish as having to stand upon +their heads to breathe, and while in that constrained attitude being pulled +by the inhabitants like radishes in a garden. + +It has been contended by some ichthyologists that the black bass does not +eat its own kind, but the spectacle which I recently beheld of a +four-pounder, defunct and floating on the water, with the tail and half the +body of a ten-ounce bass sticking out of his distended mouth, affords but +inadequate confirmation of their views. I sat upon the bass in question, +and rendered a verdict of "choked to death, and served him right." He had +swallowed the younger fish, who, for aught he knew to the contrary, or +cared, might have been his own son; and his confidence in his capacity +being ably supported by his appetite, he undertook a contract to which he +was unequal in the matter of expansion. He couldn't disgorge, being in the +predicament of the boa-constrictor who swallows a hen head first, and finds +her go against the grain when he would fain reconsider the subject. The +head of the inside fish was partially digested, but that process had +imparted no gratification to either party, and both were defunct, mutually +immolated upon the altar of gluttony. It is not an uncommon thing to find +them dead in that condition, for their appetites are ravenous, and lead +them into indiscretions more or less serious in their consequences. + +There can be no doubt of their having regarded as a delicate attention the +action some few years since of the Maryland Fish Commissioner in placing +several thousand young California salmon in the river. Those salmon have +never been seen or heard of since; but, although the bass for some time had +a guilty look about them, it is hardly fair to let them remain under so +grievous an imputation as is implied in the whole responsibility for the +fate of the California emigrants. The fact is, that at Georgetown the +Potomac River makes a very abrupt change in its grade, and the Great Falls, +as they are called, are both picturesque and arduous of passage. The +salmon, being of luxurious habit, betakes him each year to the seaside, and +at the end of the season returns in a connubial frame of mind to the spot +endeared to him by his early associations. It is quite possible that these +particular salmon when on their way to the purlieus of marine fashion were +somewhat discouraged at the jar and shock incident to their transit over +the Falls. They may have concluded that the locality was unpropitious for +the return trip, and then, consulting with salmon whose lines had been cast +in more pleasant places, they may have ascended rivers of more conspicuous +natural attractions and more agreeable to fish of cultivated habits. + +The habits of the black bass may be described as generally bad. It is a +fish devoid of any of the cardinal virtues. It is ever engaged in +internecine war, and will any day forego a square meal for the sake of a +fight. It gorges itself like a python, and when hooked is as game as a +salmon, and quite as vigorous in proportion to size. In the Potomac it has +been known to weigh as much as six pounds, but bass of that weight are very +rare, from three to four pounds being the average of what are known as good +fish. These afford excellent sport, and are taken with a variety of bait. +The habitués of the river commonly employ live minnow, chub, catfish, +suckers, sunfish--in fact, any fish under six inches in length. The bass +has also a well-marked predilection for small frogs, or indeed for frogs of +any dimensions. It sometimes rises well at a gaudy, substantial fly or a +deft simulation of a healthy Kansas grasshopper; but fishermen have noticed +that the largest fish despise flies, much as a person of a full roast-beef +habit may be supposed to turn up his nose at a small mutton-chop. In other +rivers they take the fly quite freely, but in the Potomac they have had +that branch of their education greatly neglected. In the matter of +vitality they are simply extraordinary: they cling to life with a tenacity +that very few fish exhibit. In the spring or fall, when the water and the +air are at a comparatively low temperature, a bass will live for eight or +ten hours without water. The writer has brought fifty fish, weighing on an +average two and three-quarter pounds, from Point of Rocks to Baltimore, a +distance of seventy-two miles, and after they had been in the air six hours +has placed them in a tub of water and found two-thirds of the number +immediately "kick" and plunge with an amount of energy and ability that +threw the water in all directions. These fish had been caught at various +times during the day, and as each was taken from the hook a stout leather +strap was forced through the floor of its mouth beneath its tongue, and the +bunch of fish so secured allowed to trail overboard in the stream. They +were thus dragged all day against a powerful current, but never showed any +symptoms of "drowning." In the evening they were strung upon a stout piece +of clothes-line, and after lying for some time on the railway platform were +transferred to the floor of the baggage-car, and so transported to the +city. It is quite evident that we do not live in the fear of Mr. Bergh. But +what is one to do? The fish is not to be discouraged except by the +exhibition of great and brutal violence. In fact, bass will not be induced +to decently decease by any civilized process short of a powerful shock from +a voltaic pile administered in the region of their _medulla oblongata_. Of +course, one cannot be expected to carry about a voltaic pile and go hunting +for the medullary recesses of a savage and turbulent fish. On the other +hand, one may batter the protoplasm out of a refractory subject by the aid +of a small rock, but it won't improve the fish's looks or cooking +qualities. It may seem like high treason to mention, moreover, at a safe +distance from Mr. Bergh, that euthanasia in animals designed for the table +does not always improve their quality, and in fact that the linked misery +long drawn out of a protracted dissolution imparts a certain tenderness and +flavor to the flesh that it would not otherwise possess. Should that +excellent and most estimable gentleman regard this statement with a +sceptical eye, let it be here stated that the bass should be recently +killed, split, crimped and broiled to a delicate brown, with a little good +butter and a sprinkling of pepper, salt and chopped parsley. Should he +pursue the subject upon this basis, he will not be the first gentleman who +has surrendered his convictions and compounded a culinary felony upon +favorable terms. + +Below Harper's Ferry there is one of the most picturesque reaches of the +Potomac River. From the rugged heights that frown upon that historic and +lovely spot, where the Shenandoah strikes away through the pass that leads +to the broad and beautiful Valley of Virginia, and where John Brown's +memory struggles through battered ruins and the invading smoke of the +unhallowed locomotive, the river chafes from side to side of the stern +defile that hems it in and curbs its restless waters. Great walls of dark +rocks, crested by serried ranks of solemn pines, stand guard above its +fitful, surging flood, and against the dark blue calm and misty depth of +its gorge the pale smoke rises in a quiet column above the mills and houses +that nestle by the river's bed. Huge boulders stem the current, and the +rocks stand out in shelves and rugged ridges, around which the stream +whirls swiftly and sweeps off into broad dark pools in whose green, +mysterious depths there should be noble fish. Below, the river widens and +has long placid reaches, but for the most part its banks are precipitous, +and the deep water runs along the trunks and bares the roots of great trees +whose branches stretch far out over its surface. Occasionally, the +mountains recede and form a vast amphitheatre, clad in primeval forest, and +there are islands on which vegetation runs riot in its unbridled luxury, +and weaves festoons of gay creepers to conceal the gaunt skeletons of the +endless piles of dead drift-wood. All is in the most glorious green--a very +extravagance of fresh and brilliant color--relieved with the bright +purples and tender leafing of the flowering shrubs and vines that +intertwine among its heavy jungle. Upon the broad, flat rocks one may see +dozens of stolid "sliders," or mud-turtles, some of great size, basking in +the sun like so many boarders at a country hotel. They crowd upon the rocks +as thickly as they can, and blink there all day long unless disturbed by +the approach of a boat, when they dive clumsily but quickly. Occasionally, +one sees an otter, with seal-like head above the surface of the water, +swimming swiftly from haunt to haunt in pursuit of the bass; and small +coteries of summer ducks fly swiftly from sedge to sedge. + +The acoustic properties of the river would make an architect die with envy. +The light breeze bears one's conversation audibly for half a mile; one +hears the splash of a fish that jumps a thousand yards away; and the grim +cliffs at the foot of which the canal winds in and out take up the +profanity of the towpath and hurl it back and forth across the river as if +it was great fun and all propriety. The stalwart exhortations and clean-cut +phraseology of the mule-drivers and the notes of the bugles go ringing over +to Virginia's shore, and fill the air with cadences so sweet and musical +that they sound like the pleasant laughter of good-humored Nature, instead +of the well-punctuated and diligent ribaldry of the most profane class of +humanity in existence. It is perfectly startling and frightful to hear an +objurgation of the most utterly purposeless and ingeniously vile +description transmitted half a mile with painful distinctness, and then +seized by a virtuous and reproachful echo and indignantly repelled in +disjointed fragments. + +"Y'ill take care, sorr, an' sit fair in the middle of the shkiff," said Mr. +McGrath as I got into his frail craft at five o'clock in the morning on the +bank of the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal near Point of Rocks. "It's +onconvanient to be outside of the boat whin we're going through them locks. +There were a gintleman done that last year, an' he come near lavin' a lot +of orphans behind him." + +"How was that, McGrath?" said I. + +"Begorra! the divil a child had he," he replied. + +"But do you mean that he was drowned?" I asked. + +"Faith, an' he was that, sorr--complately." + +I promised Mr. McGrath that I would observe his instructions carefully, and +that gentleman, after placing the rods, live-bait bucket, luncheon-basket +and other articles on board, took his seat in the bow, and we proceeded. We +had two boats for my companion and myself, and an experienced man in each. +Mr. McGrath had fallen to my lot, and my companion had a darkey named Pete. +We were to go up the canal some four miles, and then, launching the boats +into the river, were to fish slowly down with the current. We had a horse +and tow-rope, and a small boy, mounted on the animal, started off at a +smart trot. It was quite exhilarating, and the boats dashed along merrily +at a capital rate. A gray mist hung low on the river, and thin wraiths of +it rose off the water of the canal and crept up the mountain-side, +shrouding the black pines and hiding the summit from view. Beyond, the tops +of the hills on the Virginia shore were beginning to blush as they caught +the first rays of sunrise, and the fish-hawk's puny scream echoed from the +islands in the stream. It was a lovely morning, and promised a day, as Mr. +McGrath observed, on which some elegant fish should die. After a few delays +at locks, in which canal-boats took precedence of us, we reached our point +of transshipment, hauled the boats out on the bank, and our horse drew them +sleigh-fashion across field and down to and out into the water. + +I had a light split bamboo rod, a good silk line and a fair assortment of +flies. Mr. McGrath had a common bamboo cane, a battered old reel, and the +value of his outfit might be generously estimated at half a dollar. In his +live-bait bucket were about a hundred fish, varying in length from two to +six inches. He did not prepare to fish himself, but was watching me with +the deepest attention. He held the boat across the stream toward the +opposite shore, and by the time we dropped down on a large flat rock I was +ready. I got out, and there being a pleasant air stirring, I made my casts +with a great deal of ease and comfort. There was a deep hole below the +rocks, bordered on both sides by a swift ripple--as pretty a spot as ever a +fly was thrown over. I sped them over it in all directions, casting fifty +and sixty feet of line, and admiring the soft flutter with which they +dropped on the edge of the ripple or the open water. Mr. McGrath was +surveying the operation critically, nodding his head in approval from side +to side, and uttering short ejaculations of the most flattering nature. I +kept whipping the stream assiduously, so satisfied with my work and the +style of it as to feel confident that no well-regulated fish could resist +it. But there was no appearance of a rise: not a sign appeared on the water +to show even the approach of a speculative fish. I was about to note the +fact to Mr. McGrath when that gentleman remarked, "Begorra! but it's +illigant sport it'd be if the bass 'ud only bite at them things!" + +"Bite at them?" said I, turning round: "of course they'll bite at them." + +"Sorra bit will they, sorr. It's just wondherin' they are if them things up +above is good to ate, but they're too lazy to step up an' inquire. Augh, be +me sowl! but it's the thruth I tell you. Now, if it was a dacent throut +that were there, he'd be afther acceptin' yer invite in a minit; but them +bass--begorra! they're not amaynable to the fly at all." + +Now, if there is anything that I have been brought up to despise, it is +fishing with "bait." Fly-fishing I have learned to regard as the only +legitimate method of taking any fish that any sportsman ought to fish for, +and fishing with a worm and a cork I always looked upon as equal to +shooting a partridge on the ground in May. I did not believe Mr. McGrath, +and I told him, as I resumed my graceful occupation, that I didn't think +there were any fish there to catch. The idea of their rejecting flies +served up as mine were was too preposterous. + +"Well," said he, "ye may be right, sorr: there may be none there at all; +but I'll thry them wid a bait, anyhow." + +In another minute Mr. McGrath was slashing about right and left a bait +which to my disordered vision looked as big as a Yarmouth bloater. He threw +it in every direction with great vigor and precision, and, as I could not +help noticing, with very little splashing. I turned away with emotion, and +continued my fly-fishing. Presently I heard an exclamation from Mr. +McGrath, quickly succeeded by an ominous whirring of his reel. + +"Luk at the vagabone, sorr! luk at him now! Run, ye divil ye! run!" he +cried as he facilitated the departure of the line, which was going out at a +famous rate. "Bedad! he's a fine mikroptheros! Whisht! he's stopped.--Take +that, ye spalpeen ye!" + +As he said this he gave his rod a strong jerk, that brought the line up +with a "zip" out of the water in a long ridge, and the old bamboo cane bent +until it cracked. At the same moment, about a hundred and fifty feet away, +a splendid fish leaped high and clear out of the water with the line +dangling from his mouth. Mr. McGrath had struck him fairly, and away he +went across stream as hard as he could tear. + +"Take the rod, sorr, while I get the landing-net. Kape a tight line on him, +sorr: niver let him deludher ye. It's an illigant mikroptheros he is, +sure!" + +He returned from the boat in a moment with the landing-net, but absolutely +refused to take back his rod: "Sorra bit, sorr: bring him in. It's great +fun ye'll have wid the vagabone in that current! No, sorr: bring him in +yerself, sorr: ye'll niver lay it at my door that the first fish hooked +wasn't brought in." + +I didn't need any instructions, and as the fish ran for a rock some +distance off, I brought him up sharply, and he jumped again as wickedly as +he could full three feet out of the water, and came straight toward us with +a rush. It was no use trying, I couldn't reel up quick enough, and he was +under the eddy at our feet before I had one-third of the line in. +Fortunately, he was securely hooked, and there was no drop out from the +slacking of the line. He was in about twelve feet of water, and as I +brought the line taut on him again he went off down stream as fast as ever. +I had the current full against him this time, and I brought him steadily up +through it, and held him well in hand. I swept him around in front of Mr. +McGrath's landing-net, but he shied off so quickly that I thought he would +break the line. Away down he went as stiffly and stubbornly as possible, +and there he lodged, rubbing his nose against a rock and trying to get rid +of the hook. Half a dozen times I dislodged him and brought him up, but he +was so wild and strong I did not dare to force him in. At last he made a +dash for the ripple, and I gave him a quick turn, and as he struck out of +it Mr. McGrath had his landing-net under him in a twinkling, and he was out +kicking on the rock. He weighed four pounds six ounces, and furnished +conclusive evidence that a bass of that weight can give a great deal of +very agreeable trouble before he will consent to leave his element. + +"What was it," said I, "that you called him when you struck him just now?" + +"What did I call him, sorr? A mikroptheros, sorr." + +"And for Goodness' sake, McGrath, what is a mikroptheros?" + +"Begorra! that's what it is," said Mr. McGrath, throwing the bass overboard +to swim at the end of its leathern thong. + +"Well!" said I in amazement. "I never heard such a name as that for a fish +in all my life!--a mikroptheros!" + +"Divil a more or less!" said Mr. McGrath decidedly. "The Fish Commissioner +wor up here last week, an' sez he to me, sez he, 'It's a mikroptheros, so +it is.'--'What's that?' sez I.--'That!' sez he; and he slaps him into an +illigant glass bottle of sperrits, as I thought he was goin' to say to me, +'McGrath, have ye a mouth on ye?' an' I as dhry as if I'd et red herrin's +for a week. 'Yis,' sez he to me, 'that's the right name of him;' and wid +that he writes it on a tag, and he sends it off, this side up wid care, to +the musayum. Sure I copied it: be me sowl, an' if ye doubt me word, here +it is." + +Mr. McGrath handed me a piece of paper torn off the margin of a newspaper, +on which he had written legibly enough, "_Micropteros Floridanus_" I read +it as gravely as I could, smiled feebly at my own ignorance, and returned +it to him, saying, "Upon my word, McGrath, you are perfectly right. What a +blessing it is to have had a classical education!" + +"Sorra lie in it," said he proudly as he replaced the slip in the crown of +his hat; "an' it's meself that's glad of it." + +I can but throw myself upon the mercy of every respectable disciple of the +art before whom this confession may come when I say that during this +conversation I was employed in taking off my flies and in substituting +therefor a strong bass-hook and a cork, after the effective fashion of Mr. +McGrath. When this never-to-be-sufficiently-despised device was ready I +took from the bucket a small and unhappy sunfish, immolated him upon my +hook by passing it through his upper and lower lips, and cast him out upon +the stream. The red top of the cork spun merrily down the current and out +among the oily ripples of the deep water below, but Mr. McGrath could beat +me completely in handling his. I noticed that I threw my fish so that it +struck hard upon the water, "knocking the sowl out of it," as he said, +while he threw his hither and thither with the greatest ease, always taking +care to do it with the least possible amount of violence, and keeping it +alive as long as possible. However, it was not long before my cork +disappeared with a peculiar style of departure abundantly indicative of the +cause, to which I replied by a vigorous "strike." My cork came up promptly, +and with it my hook, bare. The sunfish had found a grave within the natural +enemy of his species, and I had missed my fish. + +"Divvle a wondher!" said Mr. McGrath in reply to a remark to that +effect--"being, sorr, that ye're not familiar wid their ways. Ye see, sorr, +he comes up an' he nips that fish be the tail, an' away wid him to a +convanient spot for to turn him an' swallow him head first, by rason of his +sthickles an' fins all p'intin' the other way. Whin he takes it, sorr, jist +let him run away wid it as far as he likes, but the minit he turns to +swallow it, an' says to himself, 'What an illigant breakfast this is, to be +sure!' that minit slap the hook into his jaw, an' hould on to him for dear +life." + +These excellent instructions I obeyed with no little difficulty. My cork +came up in the back water under the rock on which I stood, and there, +almost at my very feet, it disappeared. I could not believe that a bass had +taken it, but all doubt on the subject was dispelled by the shrill whir of +my reel as the fine silk line spun out at a tremendous rate. The fish had +darted across the current, and only stopped after he had taken out over two +hundred feet of line. + +"Now, sorr, jist make a remark to him," whispered Mr. McGrath; and I struck +as hard as I could. "Illigant, begorra!" said he as the fish, maddened and +frightened, leaped out of the water. "Look at him looking for a dentist, +bedad!" + +It was peculiarly delightful to feel that fish pull--to get a firm hand on +him, and have him charge off with an impetuosity that involved more line or +broken tackle--to feel that vigorous, oscillating pull of his, and to note +the ease and strength with which he swam against the powerful current or +dashed across the boiling eddy below. + +It did not last long, however: he soon spent himself, and Mr. McGrath +received him with a graceful swoop of his landing-net and secured him. Four +more soon followed, all large fish--two to the credit of Mr. McGrath and +two to myself. When caught they are of a dark olive-green on the back and +sides, the fins quite black at the ends, and the under side white. They +change color rapidly, and as their vitality decreases become paler and +paler, turning when dead to a very light olive-green. The mouth in general +form resembles that of the salmon family, but the size is much larger in +proportion to the weight of the fish, and the arrangement of the teeth is +different. With its great strength and its "game" qualities it is not +surprising that it should afford a good deal of what is known as "sport." + +An attribute of man which is equivalent to a strong natural instinct is his +disposition to "do murder." This may account for his love of "sport," or it +may only be an hereditary trait derived from the period when he had not yet +concerned himself with agriculture, but slew wild beasts and used his +implements of stone to crack their bones and get the marrow out. The +instinct to slay birds, beasts and fishes is certainly strong within us, +whatever be its remote origin, and it is very little affected by what we +are pleased to call our civilization. Indeed, it is hardly to be believed +that one of the primitive lords of creation, stalking about in the +condition of gorgeous irresponsibility incident to the Stone Period, would +have lowered himself to the level of the kid-gloved example of the present +stage of evolution who fishes in Maine. It cannot be supposed that the +pre-historic gentleman would have disgraced himself by catching fish he +could not use. He never caught ten times as many of the _Salmo fontinalis_ +as he and all his friends could eat, and then threw the rest away to rot. +This kind of thing has prevailed to a great extent, but natural causes have +nearly brought it to an end. The wholesale slaughter of the fish has +reduced their numbers, and a surfeit of indecent sport can no longer be +indulged in. Such fishermen should be confined by law to a large aquarium, +in which the fish they most affected could be taught to undergo catching +and re-catching until the gentlemen had had enough. The fish might grow to +like it eventually, and submit as a purely business matter to being caught +regularly for a daily consideration in chopped liver and real flies. But +how our ancestor, just alluded to, would despise the sport of this +progressive age! With his primitive but natural acceptation of Nature's law +of supply and demand, what would he think of the gentlemen who killed fish +to rot in the sun or drove a few thousand buffaloes over a precipice--all +for sport? It is probably the propensity to "do murder" which accounts for +these things, for "sport," within decent and proper limits, is a good +thing, and has been favored by the best of men in all ages--fishing +particularly, because it predisposes to pleasant contemplation, to equity +of criticism in the consideration of most matters of life, and to no little +self-benignancy. No one knew this better (although Shakespeare himself was +a poacher) than Christopher North, and where more fitly could the brightest +pages of the _Noctes Ambrosianę_ have been conceived or inspired than when +their author was, rod in hand, on the banks of a brawling Highland +trout-stream? + +The fish had ceased to bite where we were, and at Mr. McGrath's suggestion +we dropped down the stream to where my friend and his darkey were. His +experience with the flies had been similar to mine, but he had too much +regard for his fine fly-rod, he said, to use it for "slinging round a bait +as big as a herring." He had taken it to pieces and put it away. He was +sitting with his elbows on his knees and a brier-root pipe in his mouth, +content in every feature, a perfect picture of Placidity on a Boulder. + +"Given up fishing?" I asked. + +"Not much," he replied: "I've caught nine beauties. Pete does all the work, +and I catch the fish." + +Sure enough, he had Pete, who was one of the best fishermen on the river, +fishing away as hard as he could. Whenever Pete hooked a fish my friend +would lay down his pipe and play the fish into the landing-net. "It's +beastly sport," he said: "if I wasn't so confoundedly lazy I couldn't stand +it at all.--Hello, Pete! got him?" + +"Yes, sah--got him shuah;" and Pete handed him the rod as the line spun +out. We watched the short struggle, and started down stream, leaving him to +his laziness just as he was settling back in the boat for a nap and telling +Pete not to wake him up unless the next was a big one. + +By noon we had thirty-two fish--a very fair and satisfactory experience. We +were about to change our position when we were detained by a tremendous +shouting from the other boat, about half a mile above us. + +"What's the matter with them, McGrath?" said I. + +"Bedad, sorr! I think it must be that bucket there in the bow," he replied, +pointing to the article, which contained our luncheon. + +I was quite satisfied that it was, and there being a cool spring about +forty feet above us on the bank on the Virginia side, we disembarked. In +the excitement of fishing I had not thought of luncheon, but now I found I +had a startling appetite. So had my friend and his assiduous darkey when +they came in and reported twenty fish. + +"Yes," he said, "I know we ought to have a good many more, but Pete is so +lazy. It was all I could possibly do to catch those myself." + +With a flat rock for a table, the grass to sit upon, and the bubbling music +of the little stream that flowed from the spring as an accompaniment, the +ham and bread and butter, the pickles and the hard-boiled eggs, and even +the pie with its mysterious leather crust and its doubtful inside of dried +peaches, tasted wonderfully well. We did not venture out upon the river +again until three o'clock, our worthy guides agreeing that the fish do not +bite well between noon and that hour, and both of us being disposed to rest +a little. My friend stretched himself on the thick grass, and when his pipe +was exhausted went fast asleep, and snored with great precision and power +to a mild sternutatory accompaniment by Mr. McGrath and Pete. I employed +myself in bringing up my largest bass from the boat to sit for his picture +in a little basin in the rock under the spring. After he had floundered +himself into a comparatively rational and quiet condition, much after the +fashion of a gentleman reluctant to have his portrait taken under the +auspices of the police, I succeeded in committing him to paper. He was a +handsome fish, and eminently deserving of the distinction thus conferred +upon him. + +Sleeping in the grass on a summer afternoon is a bucolic luxury I never +fully appreciated. When I stirred up my friend he was red, perspirational +and full of lively entomological suspicions. He slapped the legs of his +pantaloons vigorously in spots, moved his arms uneasily, took off his +shirt-collar and implored me to look down his back. + +"There's nothing there," I reported. "I know how it is myself: a fellow +always feels that way when he goes to sleep in the grass." + +"Any woodticks here?" he asked. + +"Begorra! plenty," said Mr. McGrath, sitting up. "They et a child," he +added with perfect seriousness of manner, "down here below last summer." +McGrath's eyes twinkled when my friend began to talk of peeling off and +jumping into the river after a general search. He was finally reassured, +and we started out. We had even better sport than in the morning, and +accumulated a splendid string of fish each. On the way down we passed two +boats in which were some gentlemen, evidently foreigners, engaged in +throwing flies with apparently the same results that we had attained in the +morning. + +"Do you know who those people are?" I asked McGrath. + +"I dunno, sorr," said he, "but I think they are from one of the legations +at Washington. They come up for a day's fishin' all along of the illigant +fishin' a party from the same place had one day last week I suppose;" and +he smiled. + +"How was that, McGrath?" + +"It wor last week, sorr; and I wor up the river be meself, an' I had thirty +illigant fish thrailin' undher the boat comin' down. It wor just where they +are I seen two boats full of gintlemen, an' I dhropped alongside. They wor +swells, sure. They had patint rods, an' patint reels, an' patint flies, an' +patint boots, an' patint coats, an' patint hats, an' the divil knows what. +Bedad! they wor so fine that sez I to meself, sez I, 'Bedad! if I wor a +bass I'd say, "Gintlemen, don't go to no throuble on my account: I'll git +into the boat this minit."'--'Been fishin', me man?' sez one of them to me. +'Sorra much, yer honor,' sez I.--'It's very strange, you know,' sez he, +'that they don't bite at all to-day. You haven't caught any, have +you?'--'Well, sorr,' sez I, 'I did dhrop on a few little ones as I come +down.'--'Oh, did you, really?' sez another one, puttin' a glass in his eye +and standin' up excited like. 'Why, my good man,' sez he, 'be good enough +to 'old them up, you know. We'd like so much to see them!'--Wid that, sorr, +I up wid the sthring as high as I could lift it, an' it weighin' nigh onto +a hundred pound. Well, they were that wild they didn't know what to make of +it. One of them sez, sez he, 'The beggar's been a hauling of a net, he +has.'--'Divvle a bit more than yerself,' sez I. 'There's me impliments, +an', what's more, if ye wor to stay here till next week the sorra fish can +ye ketch, because, bedad! ye dunno how.' Wid that they put their heads +together, and swore it ud disgrace them to go home to Washington without a +fish, you know; an' how much would I take for the lot? Sez I, 'I have +twenty-five more down here in a creel in the river: that's fifty-five,' sez +I. 'Ye can have the lot for twinty dollars.'--'It's a go,' sez he; an' ever +since that there's letters comin' up from Washington askin' if the wather +is in good ordher, and what is the accommodations? Bedad! I'm wondherin' if +them as we passed wouldn't be likin' a dozen or two on the same terms?" + +Nothing finishes up a day's bass-fishing better than a good hot supper of +broiled bass, country sausage, fried ham and eggs, and coffee. The cooking +can generally be managed, and the appetite is guaranteed. _Experto crede_. + +W. MACKAY LAFFAN. + + + + +THE CHRYSALIS OF A BOOKWORM. + + I read, O friend, no pages of old lore, + Which I loved well, and yet the wingčd days, + That softly passed as wind through green spring ways + And left a perfume, swift fly as of yore, + Though in clear Plato's stream I look no more, + Neither with Moschus sing Sicilian lays. + Nor with bold Dante wander in amaze, + Nor see our Will the Golden Age restore. + I read a book to which old books are new, + And new books old. A living book is mine-- + In age, two years: in it I read no lies-- + In it to myriad truths I find the clew-- + A tender, little child; but I divine + Thoughts high as Dante's in its clear blue eyes. + +MAURICE F. EGAN. + + + + +A LAW UNTO HERSELF. + +CHAPTER X. + + +Miss Fleming arrived that evening while Jane was on the water. She was in +the habit of coming out to the Hemlock Farm for a day's holiday, and went +directly to her own room as though she were at home. When she stepped +presently out on the porch, where the gentlemen had gone to smoke, a soft +black silk showing every line of her supple figure, glimpses of the rounded +arms revealed with every movement of the loose sleeves, one or two thick +green leaves in her light hair--ugly, quiet, friendly--they all felt more +at home than they had done before. There was a pitcher of punch by the +captain's elbow: she tasted it, threw in a dash of liquor, poured him out a +glass and sat down beside him, and he felt that a gap was comfortably +filled. + +"You have turned your back on Philadelphia, they tell me, Miss Fleming," +complained Judge Rhodes. "New York sucks in all the young blood of the +country--the talent and energy." + +"Oh, I came simply to sell my wares. New York is my market, but +Philadelphia will always be home to me," in her peculiar pathetic voice. "I +left good friends there," with one of her bewildering glances straight into +the judge's beady eyes, at which his flabby face was suffused with heat. + +"You do not forget your friends, that's certain," he said, lowering his +voice. "That was a delicate compliment, sending my portrait back to the +Exhibition. I felt it very much, I assure you." + +Cornelia bowed silently. Neither she nor the judge said anything about the +round-numbered cheque which he had sent her for it. In the moonlight they +preferred to let the affair stand on a sentimental basis. + +Mr. Van Ness meanwhile eyed Miss Fleming's pose and rounded figure with a +watery gleam of complacency. + +"An exceptional woman," was his verdict. He turned the conversation to art, +and asked innumerable questions with a profound humility. Cornelia replied +eagerly, until the fact crept out from the judge that there was not an +ęsthetic dogma nor a gallery in the world with which he was not familiar. +Then to pottery, in which field his modesty was as profound, until the +judge pushed him, as it were, to a corner, when he acknowledged himself the +possessor of a few "nice bits." + +"I have some old Etruscan pieces which I should like you to see, Miss +Fleming," with his mild, deprecating cough, "and a bit of Capo di Monte, +and the only real specimen of Henri Deux in the country." + +"I must see them," emphatically. "Where are your cabinets?" + +"Oh, nowhere," with a shrug. "My poor little specimens have never been +unpacked since I returned to this country. They are boxed up in a friend's +cellar." + +"God bless me, Cornelia!" cried the captain in a muffled tone, "how could +Mr. Van Ness spend his time koo-tooing to cracked pots? He has, as I may +say, the future of Pennsylvania in his hand. When I think what he is doing +for the friendless children--thousands of'em--" The punch had heated the +captain's zeal to the point where words failed him. + +After that the friendless children swept lighter subjects out of sight. Mr. +Van Ness, whose humility in this light rose to saintly heights, had all the +statistics of the Bureaux of Charity at his tongue's end. He had studied +the Dangerous Classes in every obscure corner of the world. He could give +you the _status quo_ of any given tribe in India just as easily as the +time-table on the new railway in Egypt. No wonder that he could tell you in +a breath the percentage of orphans, deserted minors, children of vicious +parents, in his own State, and the amount _per capita_ required to civilize +and Christianize them. As he talked of this matter his eyes became +suffused with tears. The great Home for these helpless wards of the State +he described at length, from its situation on a high table-land of the +Alleghanies and the dimensions of the immense buildings down to the +employments of the children and the capacity of the laundry--a perfect +Arcadia with all the modern improvements, where Crime was to be transformed +wholesale into Virtue. + +"Where is this institution?" asked Miss Fleming. "It is strange I never +heard of it." + +"Oh, it is not built as yet: we have not raised the funds," Mr. Van Ness +replied with a smothered sigh. + +The judge patted one foot and looked at him compassionately. It was a +devilishly queer ambition to be the savior of those dirty little wretches +in the back alleys. But if a man had given himself up, body and soul, to +such a pursuit, it was hard measure that he must be thwarted in it. + +Miss Fleming also bent soft sympathetic eyes on her new friend. The Home +was not built, eh? Not a brick laid? She wondered whether that box with the +priceless treasures existed in his friend's cellar or in his brain: she +wondered whether he had not seen those pictures of the old masters in +photographs, or whether he had travelled in Japan and the obscure corners +of the earth in the flesh or in books. There was more than the wonted +necessity upon her to establish sympathetic relations with this new man: +she had never seen a finer presence: the beard and brow quite lifted his +masculinity into ęsthetic regions; she caught glimpses, too, of an +unfamiliar mongrel species of intellect with which she would relish +Platonic relations. Yet with this glow upon her she regarded the reformer's +noble face and benignant blond beard doubtfully, thinking how she used to +stick pins in brilliant bubbles when she was a child, and nothing would be +left but a patch of dirty water. + +"Jane is out on the river, as usual?" she asked presently. + +"Yes," said her father: "Mr. Neckart is with her. Neither of them will ever +stay under a roof if they can help it. They ought to have a dash of Indian +blood in their veins to account for such vagabondizing." + +"Is Bruce Neckart here?" with a change in her tone which made the captain +look up at her involuntarily. + +"Yes." + +"I thought he was in Washington: I did not expect to meet him." + +The judge puffed uneasily at his cigar. He was a family man, with a stout +wife and married son. He did not meet Miss Fleming once a year, but he felt +a vague jealousy of Neckart. + +"By the way, you must be old acquaintances?" he said abruptly. "Both from +Delaware? Kent county?" + +"Oh yes," with a shrill womanish laugh, very different from her usual sweet +boyish ha! ha! "Many's the day we rowed on the bay or dredged for oysters +together, dirty and ragged and happy. There is not very much difference in +our ages," seeing his look of surprise. "I look younger than I am, and +Bruce has grown old fast. At least, so I hear. I have not seen him for +years." + +She was silent after that, and preoccupied as her admirers had never seen +her, and presently, hearing Jane's and Neckart's steps on the path, she +rose hastily and bade them good-night. They each shook hands with her, that +being one of the sacred rites in the Platonic friendships so much in vogue +now-a-days among clever men and women. Mr. Van Ness offered his hand last, +and Cornelia smiled cordially as she took it. But it was clammy and soft. +She rubbed her fingers with a shudder of disgust as she hurried up to her +own room. There she walked straight to her glass and turned up the lamp +beside it, looking long and fixedly at her face. She knew with exactness +the extent of its ugliness and its power. + +"It is too late now even if it ever could have been," she said quietly, and +put out the light. Then she went to the window. Mr. Neckart had left Jane +inside, and, not joining the other men, turned back to the garden. She saw +the bulky dark figure as it passed under her window. + +She stretched out her hands as if for a caress, with the palms pressed +close. "Oh, Bruce!" she said under her breath. "Bruce!" + +After he had passed out of sight she stood thinking over all the men who +had made a comrade of her since she saw him last--how they had handled her +fingers and looked into her eyes; how her every thought and fancy had grown +common and unclean through much usage; how she had dragged out whatever +maidenly feeling she had in the old times, and made capital of it to bring +these companions to her who were neither lovers nor friends. + +"When I could not have the food which I wanted. I took the husks which the +swine did eat," she said, leaving the window, with a short laugh. "Well, I +could not die of starvation." + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + +When Jane woke the next morning a bluebird was singing outside of the +window: she tried to mimic him before she was out of bed, and sang scraps +of songs to herself as she dressed. The captain heard her in his room +below, but pretended to be asleep when she came down as usual to lay out +his clothes, for, although she insisted that her father should have Dave as +a valet, she left him but little to do. + +Watching her from under the covers, the captain saw that she had left off +the black snood and tied her hair with a band of rose-colored ribbon. Her +lips were ruddy and her eyes alight: once or twice she laughed to herself. + +"What high day or holiday is it, Jane?" + +"Oh, every day is a high day now!" running to kiss him. "I was just +thinking how comfortable money is, and how glad I am that we have it," +glancing about delighted at his luxurious toilet appointments before the +low wood-fire. Then she spread out his dressing-gown and velvet +smoking-cap, and eyed with her head on one side the fine shirt and its +costly studs. + +"Do you remember the rag-carpet in your room which we thought such a +triumph? and the old tin shaving-cup? Now, my lord, look out upon your +estate!" opening the window. "Your musicians have come to waken you, and +your servitors stand without," as Buff tapped at the door with hot water. + +"He is as comfortable as a baby wrapped in lamb's wool," she thought as she +ran down the stairs. "And this air is so pure and the sun so bright! Oh, he +must grow strong here! Anybody would be cured here--anybody!" + +The captain followed her to the barnyard. It was one of her inexorable +prescriptions for him that he should drink a glass of warm milk-punch +before breakfast, and smell the cow's breath during the operation. She was +milking the white cow herself, while the pseudo sempstress, Nichols, waited +with the goblet, and the bandy-legged shoemaker, Twiss, stood on guard, +eyeing Brindle's horns suspiciously. + +"Now the glass! These are the strippings. Oh you'll soon learn, Betty! +You'll make butter as well as you used to make dresses badly." + +The little widow and Twiss laughed, as they always did at Jane's weak +jokes, and took the punch to the captain. She was the finest wit of her day +in their eyes. The hostler's boy ran down from the stable to speak to her. +She thought he had as innocent a face as she had ever seen. No doubt he +would have gone to perdition if Neckart had not rescued him. She stopped to +talk to him with beaming eyes, and meeting Betty's toddling baby took it up +and tossed it in the air, and then walked on, carrying the soft little +thing in her arms. The farm was like the Happy Valley this morning! God was +so good to her! She could warm and comfort all these people. Then she +turned into the woods and sat down on a fallen log. It was the place where +they had stopped to rest yesterday, Neckart lying at her feet. There was +the imprint still in the dead moss where his arm had lain. She looked +guiltily about, and then laid her hand in the broken moss with a quick +passionate touch. The baby caught her chin in its fingers. She hugged it to +her breast, and kissed it again and again. From the hemlock overhead a +tanager suddenly flashed up into the air with a shrill peal of song. Jane +looked up, her face and throat dyed crimson. Did he know? She glanced down +at the grass, at the friendly trees all alive with rustling and chirping. +The sky overhead was so deep and warm a blue to-day. It seemed as if they +all knew that he loved her. + +The captain found Mr. Neckart standing on the stoop listening to some sound +that came up from the woods. + +"It is Jane singing," he said. "You would not hear her once in a year. +Hereditary gift! In the old Swedish annals we read of the remarkable voices +of the Svens." + +"I never heard her sing before." Yet he had known at once that it was she. +It was the most joyous of songs, but there was a foreboding pathos in the +voice which moved him as no other sound had ever done. + +"You are not going before breakfast?" cried the captain. + +"Yes, and I shall not be able to come again for a long time. Say to Miss +Swendon--But no. I will go and bid her good-bye." + +He met her as she was crossing the plank thrown across the brook, and they +stopped by the little hand-rail, not looking directly at each other: "I +came to bid you good-morning." + +"Do you take the early train, then?" + +"Yes." He did not mean to tell her that he would not come again. The more +ordinary their parting the sooner she would forget it and him. He had +thought the matter out during the night, and being a man who was apt to +under-rate himself, was convinced that the feeling which she had betrayed +was but that transient flush of preference which any very young and +innocent girl is apt to give to the first man of whom she makes a +companion. + +"There is nothing in me likely to win enduring love from her. A more +intellectual woman, indeed--" He had gone over the argument again and +again. When he was out of sight her fancy would soon turn to this new +lover, so much better suited to her in every respect. For himself--But he +had no right, to think of himself. He struck that thought down fiercely +again as they stood together on the bridge. No more right than he would +have, were he dead, to drag down this young creature into his grave. + +He patted the child on the head as it clung to her dress, and talked of the +chance of more rain with perfect correctness and civility; and when Jane +managed to raise her eyes to his face she found it grave and preoccupied, +as it usually was over the morning papers. He saw Van Ness coming smiling +to meet her. + +"It is time for me to go," he said, his eyes passing slowly over her: then +with a hasty bow, not touching her hand, he struck through the woods to the +station, thinking as he went how she was standing then on the bridge in the +sunshine, with the man whom she would marry beside her. She looked after +him, her eyes full of still, deep content. He loved her. She had forgotten +everything else. + +"A perfect morning, Miss Swendon," said Mr. Van Ness, stroking his +magnificent golden beard. "You see just this deep azure sky above the +Sandwich Islands. Now, I remember watching such a dawn on Mauna Loa. Ah-h, +_you_ would have appreciated that. Our friend has gone, eh? Most active, +energetic man! I heard him tell your father he should not return soon +again." + +"Not return?" stopping in her slow walk. + +"No. It really must be impossible for an editor to spare time often for +visits to even such an Arcadia as this. No stock market or political news +in Arcadia, eh?" with a benevolent gurgle of a laugh. "Business! business! +Miss Swendon. Ah, how it engrosses the majority of men!" shaking his head +ponderously. + +She said nothing. It was as if she had been suddenly wakened out of a dream +in the crowd of a dusty market-place. He had gone back to the world, to his +real business and his real trouble. She, with her love and her intended +cure for him, was a silly fool wandering in a fantastic Arcadia. + +Miss Fleming was walking up and down on the porch as they came up, more +carefully dressed than usual. The captain had just told her that Neckart +had gone. + +"Ah? I'm very sorry," carelessly. "I should have been glad to see him +again. Though no doubt he has forgotten me." + +She went forward to meet Jane with a smile, but a withered gray look under +her eyes. "I have been making a tour of your principality," she said as +they went in to breakfast. "I see you have brought out a colony of +Philadelphia paupers. Twiss, and Betty, and the rest." + +"They were not paupers," said Jane, taking her place behind the urn. "Did +you see into what a great boy Top has grown? And Peter?" It gave her a warm +glow at heart to remember these people just now. At least, there her care +had not been fantastic or thrown away. + +"I hardly expected you to take up the rōle of guardian angel. It requires +study, after all, to play it successfully," pursued Cornelia with an +amiable smile, cutting her butter viciously.--"Very young girls are apt to +be impetuous in their charities, and damage more than they help," turning +to the judge. "These poor people, for instance. Betty had her kinsfolk +about her in Philadelphia, her church and her gossips. She complained +bitterly to me this morning that she 'had no company here but the cows: +Miss Swendon might as well have whisked her off into a haythen desart.'" + +"She complained to you!" cried the captain. "Why, the trouble and money +which Jane has given to that woman and her family! They were starving, I +assure you!" + +Jane listened at first with her usual quiet good-humor. Miss Fleming's +waspish temper generally amused her, as it would have done a man (if he was +not her husband). But she began to grow anxious. + +"You really think Betty is not contented here?" her hand a little unsteady +as she poured the cream into the cups. + +"Contented? She seems miserable enough. Home is home, you know, if it is +only a cellar and starvation. But perhaps"--with a shrug--"that class of +Irish are never happy without a grievance. Now, Twiss, it appears to me, +has just ground for complaint.--A shoemaker," turning to the judge a face +beaming with fun, "whom this young lady has transported and set down in +charge of gardens and hot-houses. He does not know a hoe from a mower, and +he is too old to learn. He had a good trade: now he has nothing." + +"But he could not live by his trade," cried Jane. + +"Well, cobbling is looking up now. In any case, you have pauperized him." + +"That's bad--bad! Now, in Virginia we used to feed everybody who came +along!" said the judge, shaking his head. "But I've learned wisdom in the +cities. Every bit of bread given to a beggar degrades human nature and rots +society to the core." + +"But suppose he is starving?" urged the captain. "The Good Samaritan wasn't +afraid of pauperizing that poor devil on the road." + +"Let him starve. He will have preserved his self-respect. The Good +Samaritan knew nothing of political economy, sir." + +Jane left her breakfast untasted. She understood nothing about political +economy, but she saw that she had done irreparable injury to these people +whom she had tried to serve--God knew with what anxiety and tenderness of +heart. In one case, at least, there had been no mistake. + +"Did you see Phil?" she said, turning with brightening countenance to Miss +Fleming. "We intend to have Phil educated. He is such a keen-witted little +fellow." + +Miss Fleming laughed outright now: "Mr. Neckart's protégé? Yes, I saw him. +He has been stealing tobacco and money from Dave, it appears, ever since he +came, and was found out this morning. There was a horrible row in the +stable as I passed." + +"Of course he stole!" said the judge triumphantly. "I tell you, the more +efforts you make to reform the dangerous classes the more hardened you will +grow. It's hopeless--hopeless!" + +Her other listeners each promptly presented their theory. Like all +intelligent Americans, they were provided with theories on every social +problem, and were ready to hang it on an individual stable-boy or any other +nail of a fact which might offer. Jane alone sat silent. She did not hear +when her father spoke to her once or twice. + +"You are disappointed," Mr. Van Ness's soft soothing voice murmured in her +ear. "I know how these baffled efforts chill the heart. I will explain to +you the machinery which I propose to bring to bear on these classes." + +"I don't know anything about machinery or classes. Twiss and Betty were +friends of mine, and I tried to help them, and have failed." + +Miss Fleming, who was watching her furtively, saw her dull eyes raised +presently and rest on the captain, who with a red face and bursts of +laughter was telling one of his interminable stories. + +"This girl," Cornelia said to herself, "has everything which I have +not--beauty, wealth, Bruce Neckart's love. Yet she looks at that weak old +man as if he were all that was left her in the world." She had put Jane +before on the general basis of antipathy which she had to everything in the +world that was not masculine, but the feeling had kindled since last night +into active dislike. + +When breakfast was over and their guests had gone to their rooms to make +ready to meet the train, Jane decoyed the captain away to Bruno's kennel, +where he was tied during Mr. Van Ness's stay. Once out of sight she retied +his cravat, arranged his white hair to her liking, stroked his sunken +cheeks. Here was something actual and real. She knew now that she had never +had anything that was truly her own but the kind foolish face looking down +on her. She never would have anything more. Only an hour ago life had +opened for her wide and fair as the dawn: now it had narrowed to this old +hand in hers, to his breath, that came and went--O God, how feebly! + +"You are looking stronger to-day, father. You are gaining every day. Oh +that is quite certain! Very soon we shall have you as well and strong as +you were at forty." + +What if she had not had money this last year? He never could have lived +through it. God had been kind to her--kind! She pressed his hand to her +breast with a quick glance out to the bright sky. The Captain saw her chin +quivering. His own thoughts ran partly in the same line as hers. + +"Oh, I'm gaining, no doubt of it. Though I never could have pulled through +this year if we had had to live in the old way. God bless Will Laidley for +leaving the money as he did!" + +"It was not his to leave otherwise!" she cried indignantly. + +"Tut, tut, Jane! Of course it was his. By every law. He could have flung it +away where he chose; and he had a perfect right to do it." + +It was not God who had been kind to her, then: it was only that she had +stolen the money? + +"Come, Jenny: we must go back to the house." + +"In a moment, father. Go on: I will follow you." + +She walked up and down the tan-bark path for a while. She was sure of +nothing. Wherever she had done what seemed to her right and natural, she +was barred and checked by the world's laws and experience. She had brought +these starving wretches out of a hell upon earth into this paradise, and +even they laughed at her want of wisdom: the very money which was her own +in the sight of God, and which had lengthened her father's life, ought to +be given back to-day to the poor, its rightful owners. If there was any +other cause for her to fight blindly against the narrow matter-of-fact +routine which ruled her life, she did not name it even to herself. + +Looking toward the house, she saw her father escorting their guests to the +gate, where the carriage waited, David resplendent on the box. The captain +walked with a feeble kind of swagger: his voice came back to her in weak +gusts of laughter. She laid her hand on a tree, glancing about her with a +firm sense of possession. "The property is mine," she said, "and I'll keep +it as long as he lives, if all the paupers in the United States were +starving at the gates!" + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + +Mr. Van Ness returned to the Hemlock Farm at stated periods during the +summer. He had, to be plain, sat down before Jane's heart to besiege it +with the same ponderous benign calm with which he ate an egg or talked of +death. There was a bronze image of Buddha in the hall at the Farm, the gaze +of the god fixed with ineffable content, as it had been for ages, on his +own stomach. + +Jane went up to it one day after an hour's talk with Mr. Van Ness. "This +creature maddens me," she said. "I always want to break it into pieces to +see it alter." + +Little Mr. Waring, who had come with Van Ness, hurried up as a connoisseur +in bronzes, adjusting his eye-glasses. "Why, it is faultless, Miss +Swendon!" he cried. + +"That is precisely what makes it intolerable." + +Much of Jane's large, easy good-humor was gone by this time. She had grown +thin, was eager, restless, uncertain of what she ought or ought not to do, +even in trifles. + +Mr. Waring and Judge Rhodes were both at the Farm now. They ran over to New +York every week or two. Phil Waring was not a marrying man, but it was part +of his duty as a leader in society to be intimate with every important +heiress or beauty in the two cities. Out of sincere compassion to Jane's +stupendous ignorance he would sit for hours stroking his moustache, his +elbows on his knees, his feet on a rung of the chair, dribbling information +as to the nice effects in the Water-Color Exhibition, or miraculous "finds" +of Spode or Wedgwood in old junk-shops, or the most authentic information +as to why the Palfreys had no cards to Mrs. Livingstone's kettledrums, +while Jane listened with a quizzical gleam in her eyes, as she did to the +little bantam hen outside cackling and strutting over its new egg. + +"We must have you in society this winter," he urged. "It is a duty you owe +in your position. You have no choice about it." + +"You are right, Mr. Waring," called the captain from the corner where he +sat with Judge Rhodes. "The child must have friends in her own class." He +dropped his voice again: "The truth is, Rhodes, she has no ties like other +girls. Her dog and two or three old women and some children--that is all +she knows of life. It's enough while she has me. But I shall not be here +long, now. Not many months." + +The eyes of the two men met. + +"Does she know?" asked the judge after a while. + +"No." The captain's gaunt features worked: he trotted his foot to some +tune, looking down from the window and whistling under his breath. "It was +for this I sent for you," he added presently. "If I could only see her +settled, married, before I go! She is no more fit to be left alone in the +world than Bruno." + +The judge shook his head in gloomy assent. His own opinion was that Jane +would follow her own instincts in a dog-like fashion if her father was out +of the way, and God only knew where they would lead her! He had brought his +own girls, Rose and Netty, with him to visit her, in order that she might +have a domestic feminine influence upon her. They found, accidentally, that +she did not know a word of any catechism, and, terrified, loaned her +religious novels to convert her: she took them graciously, but never cut +the leaves. There were to them even more heathenish indications in her +hoopless straight skirts: the good little creatures zealously cut and +trimmed a dress for her from the very last patterns. She put it on, and +straightway went through bog and brake with Bruno for mushrooms, coming +back with it in tatters. They chattered in their thin falsetto voices the +last Culpepper gossip into her patient ear--the story of Rosey's balls at +Old Point, and Netty's lovers, all of whom were "splendid matches until +impohverished by the war." She listened to their chirping with amused eyes, +tapping them, when they were through, approvingly on the head as though +they were clever canaries. The girls told their father that they "feared +her principles leaned toward infidelity, and that it was never safe to be +intimate with these original women," and had gone home the next day, not +waiting for the judge. They washed their hands of her, and gloved them +again, but he still felt responsible for her. After he left the captain he +went to her, fatherly interest radiant in every feature: "Mr. Waring is +right, Jane. It is high time that you were taking your part in society. +Your father wishes it." + +"I will do whatever he wishes," quietly.--"You did not know us when we +lived in the old house in Southwark, Mr. Waring. We invented our patents +then. Sometimes we could afford to go to the gallery at the theatre when +the play was good. Father and the newsboys would lead the clapping. And we +went once a year in our patched shoes a-fishing for a holiday. Those were +good times." + +"Perfect child of Nature!" telegraphed Mr. Waring uneasily to the judge. +"How Mrs. Wilde will rejoice in you, Miss Swendon! Nature is her specialty. +She is coming to call this morning.--Miss Swendon," turning anxiously to +the judge, "can have no better sponsor in society than Mrs. Wilde. She only +can give the accolade to all aspirants. No amount of money will force an +entrance at her doors. There must be blood--blood. 'Swendon?' she said when +I spoke to her about this call. 'The Swedish Svens? I remember. Queen +Christina's gallant lieutenant was her great-grandfather. Good stock. None +better. The girl must belong to our circle.' So, now it is all settled!" +rubbing his hands and smiling. + +"Jane is careless," said the captain eagerly. "People of the best fashion +have called, and she has not even left cards. Her dress too--Now a Paris +gown, fringes and--" + +The three men looked at her at that with a sudden imbecile despair, at +which she laughed and went out. + +The captain found her presently down by the boat in which she had heard +Neckart's story. She bailed it out and cleaned it carefully every day, but +she had never gone on the river in it since that night. + +"Father," stepping ashore, "what have I done that I must be turned into +another woman?" + +"Now, Jenny, making models and crabbing were well enough for you as a +child. But, as Waring justly observes, the society to which you belong is +inexorable in its rules for a woman." + +She flung out her arms impatiently, and then clasped them above her head. +It seemed as if a thousand fine clammy webs were being spun about her. + +"If you had any especial talent, as Waring says--if you were artistic or +musical, or concerned in some asylum-work--you could take your own path, +independent of society. But--" looking down at her anxiously. + +"I understand. I don't know what I was made for." + +It was the first time in her life that she had been driven in to consider +herself. She stood grave and intent, saying nothing for some time. Every +other woman had some definite aim. The whole world was marching by, keeping +step to a neat, orderly little tune. They made calls, they gave alms, they +dressed, all of the same fashion. + +"Why not be like other people?" her father was saying, making a burden to +her thought. + +"I don't know why," drearily. + +"What would you have, Jenny?" taking her hand in his. + +"Father, I never loved but one or two people in the world. You and Bruno +and--not many others. I can do nothing outside of them." + +"Nonsense! You cannot be a law to yourself, child. God knows I want to see +you happy!" his voice breaking. "But," straightening his eye-glasses, +"Waring says, very justly, you are out of the groove which all other girls +are in." He stopped inquiringly, but she did not answer. She was a +strongly-built woman in mind and body, and just then she felt her strength. +The blood rushed in a swift current through her veins. Why should she be +hampered with these thousand meaningless, sham duties? She was fit for but +one purpose--to serve two men whom she loved. Her father was ill, and he +pushed her from him into Society; and Bruce Neckart was alone, and with a +worse fate than death creeping on him, and he-- + +"Why does not Mr. Neckart come to us?" she asked abruptly. "It is months +since I have seen him." + +"His health is failing. There is some trouble of the brain threatened. I +hear that he is going to give up the paper, and is settling up his business +to go to Europe." Her question startled him: he watched her with a new keen +suspicion. + +"If this must come on him, why should he not come here to bear it? I can +nurse you both. Surely, that is as good work as returning calls or learning +to dress in Parisian style," with a short laugh. + +The captain's face gathered intelligence as he listened. He knew her secret +now. For a moment he felt a wrench of pity for her. But love, with the +captain, had been a sentimental fever ending in a cold ague: he had +experienced light heats and chills of it many a time since. This wild fancy +of the girl's would speedily burn itself out if judiciously damped. He +would at once take the matter in hand. + +"Neckart," he said deliberately, eying her to gauge the effect of his +words, "is a man of sense and knowledge of the world. He knows his +condition, and in the little time left to him he attends to his business +and important political affairs, instead of nursing a romantic friendship +which cannot serve him, and would only compromise you." + +"Compromise me? I don't understand you, father." + +"A woman could not render such service as you offer except to her betrothed +lover or husband." + +"Why, he would understand." + +"But Society, child--" + +"Oh, Society!" with a laugh. "But you do not remember!" clasping her hands +on his shoulder. "If this thing comes upon him--he has looked forward to it +all his life--he has nobody. He is quite alone." + +"At least," impatiently, "you will not be involved. I did not understand +before why Bruce had deserted us lately. I see now that he has acted very +properly. It was not his fault nor yours--this flirtation--preference--or +whatever you may choose to call it. But Bruce knows the world, and knows +just how long-lived such fancies are, and he intends that it shall be no +hinderance to your marriage--making an excellent match." + +"I marry? Make an excellent match?" + +"Yes. Certainly. What else should you do? Don't look in that way, my +darling. It frightens me. I'm not strong. It is not death that is coming to +you, but a good husband. You need not turn so white." + +"And Mr. Neckart planned this for _me?_" + +"N-no. I can't say 'planned,' to be accurate. But he agreed in our plan. +Why, Bruce has common sense. He knows it is the way of the world that a +woman should marry, and he will be much happier to know that you are the +wife of a good man--good and good-looking too. Much more presentable than +Bruce, poor fellow!" + +The captain watched her closely as he gave this home-thrust. How a woman +could turn from that magnificent, devout reformer to any lean, irascible +politician! Her foot was on the edge of the little skiff. She pushed it +into the water. While he sat in the boat there that night, with the +moonlight white about them, while he told her that he loved her, he had +been planning this good match for her! There was no such thing as love, +then, in the world? Or truth? But there was Society and common sense and +the inexorable rules of propriety. Bruce Neckart represented to her +Strength itself, and he submitted to these rules cheerfully. He was happy +to think of her as the wife of a good, presentable man! + +When she had thought of him as going alone with his terrible burden away +from her into the wilderness, true to her until the last breath of reason +was gone, there had been a thrill of delight in the intolerable pain. But +planning, like finical little Waring, that she should fall snugly into a +fashionable set, Parisian gowns, a suitable marriage! + +Jane had not the womanish faculty of thinning every fact or thought that +came to her into tears or talk. Neckart had gone out of her life. She +accepted the fact at once, without argument. What the loss imported to her +would assuredly be known only to her own narrow, one-sided mind, and the +God who had given it to her. + +"Shall we go to the house, father? Can't you laugh again, and look like +yourself? Why, I will give myself up, body and soul, to Society or +Philanthropy--anything you choose--rather than see you so shaken." She hung +on his arm as they went up the path, talking incessantly, and laughing +more, as even the captain felt, than the jokes would warrant. The moment +was favorable for introducing the subject he had at heart. + +"The last train brought out a dozen men to consult Mr. Van Ness," he +began--"deputations from church and charitable organizations. 'Pon my soul, +I don't know what Christianity in this country would do without that man!" + +"It would wear a very different face," absently. + +"I went with Rhodes to a great revival-meeting in town one night lately, +and Van Ness, of course, was called up on the platform. Rhodes thought he +looked like one of the apostles in modern dress; and all the ladies near me +said that his face beamed with heavenly light. It would have made anybody +devout to look at him. Are you listening?" glancing at her abstracted face. +"You certainly think him remarkably handsome? As to his nose, now?" + +"I don't suppose anybody could find fault with his nose," smiling. + +"Nor with his manner?" + +"Nor with his manner." + +"And yet you are not friends, eh?" holding his breath for her answer. + +"No," carelessly. "Mr. Van Ness and I could not be friends." + +"Why? why?" + +"How could I tell?" with a shrug, and looking at Bruno, who was fighting a +cat just then without cause. + +The captain looked and sighed. It was of no use, he thought, to try to +account for the prejudices or likings of any of the lower animals. + +Mr. Waring met them at the moment in an anxious flutter: "Mrs. Wilde is +here. She is coming down the path." + +Mrs. Wilde was a small, plump old lady with a sober, tranquil face framed +in soft puffs of white hair; her dress never rustled or brought itself into +any notice; her language never fell uneasily out of its quiet gait; when +she spoke to you, you felt that something genuine and happy dominated you +for the moment. + +"I followed Mr. Waring here," holding out her hand. "One makes acquaintance +so much more quickly out of doors. I must begin ours by asking for your +arm, Miss Swendon. I am fat and scant o' breath, and apt to forget it." + +Jane drew the puffy hand eagerly through her arm. She would have liked to +say outright how welcome the motherly presence and the honest voice were to +her just then. + +Mrs. Wilde dismissed the captain and Mr. Waring, and the two women sat down +in the arbor, and at once were at ease and at home with each other. Bruno +came up, eyed and smelled the new-comer, and snuggled down on her skirts to +go to sleep. + +"He vouches for me," she said nodding. "You must take me at his valuation." + +"He makes no mistakes." + +"Nor do you, I suspect. That reminds me, Miss Swendon. I brought a friend +with me, and now that I have seen you I mean to bespeak your good-will for +her. She needs just such healthy influence as yours would be." + +"Is she ill?" + +"Only in mind. One of those morbid women who must make a drama out of their +lives, and prefer to make it a tragedy. A Madame Trebizoff, an +English-woman who married a Russian prince. She is a widow now, with large +means--came to New York a few months ago, and has had much court paid to +her. But her nature makes her always a very lonely woman." She spoke +hastily as the trailing of heavy skirts approached on the grass. "Here she +is, poor thing! Be good to her," she whispered before presenting her in +form. Madame Trebizoff was draped in black, with a good deal of lace about +her head and an artificial yellow rose at her throat. Jane went up to her +with outstretched hand, but when the sallow face turned full on her she +stopped short, looked at it a moment, and then bowed without a word. + +"It is the materialized spirit!" But she did not speak, for in a moment she +remembered that she had once taken the bread from the wretched woman's +mouth. She would not do it again. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + + +Mr. Van Ness came beaming down through the lilacs to the arbor, and was +received with much reverence by Mrs. Wilde. She was a devout woman, and +Pliny Van Ness's name was in all the churches. They all sauntered back to +luncheon presently, Mrs. Wilde and Jane going before, while Mr. Van Ness +and the Russian princess walked more slowly through the woods, the +foreigner talking with animation and many gestures of American trees, while +the reformer listened benignly, ineffable calm in his smiling eyes. + +"You followed me here purposely, Charlotte?" he said gently as she dilated +eloquently on our autumnal foliage. + +"No. I did not know that you were in New York. But I meant to call upon you +soon. I have had no money from you since last August." + +"Somebody, apparently, has filled my place as your banker," his placid eye +sweeping over the costly dress and be-diamonded fingers. + +"What is that to you?" with a sudden shrill passion. "Once you would have +cared, Pliny. But that was years ago." + +"Yes. Many years ago," buttoning his glove carefully. "A Russian princess, +eh?" after a short pause. "You are playing higher than ordinary, Charlotte. +You'll find it dangerous. I should advise you to keep to begging letters or +the rōle of medium or literary tramp." + +"One class is as ready to be humbugged as the other. Who knows that better +than you?" + +"In the religious and charitable work to which I have given up my life," +deliberately measuring his words, "there are few impostors to be met. We +usually detect fraud, with God's help, and do not suffer from it, +therefore." + +She stopped short, looking at him with blank amazement. Then walked on with +a shrug: "Absolutely! He expects me to believe in him! He believes in +himself! Can imposture go further than that?" + +Mrs. Wilde, in the distance, caught sight of the two figures as they passed +through a belt of sunlight, and smiled contentedly. + +"I am so glad to bring poor madame under direct religious influence! Mr. +Van Ness is speaking to her with great earnestness, I perceive." + +The Princess Trebizoff scanned the great reformer as they walked, +appraising him, from the measured solemn step to his calm humility of eye. +She would have relished a passionate scene with him. After terrapin and +champagne, there was nothing she relished so much as emotion and tears. But +they had played up to each other so often! The tragedy in their relation +had grown terribly stale! You could not, she felt, make Hamlet's inky cloak +out of dyed cotton. But he would serve as audience. + +"I'm growing very tired of good society," talking rapidly as usual. "Now, +you always enjoyed a dead level, Pliny." + +"Yes. There's no Bohemian blood in my veins. I was designed for +respectability." + +"So? I mean Ted shall be respectable," with sudden earnestness. "He is in a +Presbyterian college. I should be glad if he'd go into the ministry. Yes, I +should. Provided he had a call from God. I'll have no sham professions +from Ted," her black eyes sparkling. "You did not ask for the boy. In your +weighty affairs doubtless you forgot there was such a human being." + +"No, indeed. In what institution have you placed Thaddeus?" + +"No matter. He's out of your influence, thank God! He never heard your +name. But as for me, I think I'll drop this princess business soon," +meditatively. "I began down town," with a fresh burst of vivacity. "On the +boarding-house keepers. Last December." + +"You are Madame Varens! Is it possible?" turning to look at her. "The +papers were filled with your exploits last winter." + +"Precisely!" She had a joyous girlish laugh, infectious enough to draw a +smile from Van Ness. + +"You are really very clever, Charlotte," admiringly. + +"I made a tour in the West just before that," excitedly, patting her hands +together. "Agent for Orphans' Homes in the Gulf States. I wrote a letter of +introduction from one or two bishops to the clergymen in their dioceses: +that started me, and the clergy and press passed me through. What a mill of +tea-drinkings and church-gossip I went through! But it was better fun than +this." + +Looking up, she happened to catch the cold, furtive glance with which he +had listened, and kept her eye fixed on him curiously. + +"Do you hate me so much as _that?_" she said with a long breath. "Well," +frankly, "it must be intolerable to carry such a millstone about your neck +as I am to you. You know I could pull you down any minute I chose," tossing +her head and laughing maliciously. "No matter how high you had climbed. I +often wonder, Pliny, why you do not rid yourself of me. It could be easily +done." + +The usually suave tone was harsh and hoarse as he began to speak. He +coughed, and carefully modulated his voice before he said politely, "Yes. +But it would involve exposure unless carefully managed. That is certain +damnation. There is a chance of safety for the present in trusting to you. +You were always good-natured, Charlotte. And," turning his watery eye full +on her, "you loved me once." + +"Possibly," coolly. "But last year's loves are as tedious reading as last +year's newspapers. Better trust my good-nature. You show your shrewdness in +that. I don't interfere with people. The world uses me very well. It's a +hogshead that gives the best of wine--if you know how to tap it." + +"You've tapped it with a will. You go through life perpetually drunk," he +thought as she ran lightly before him up the steps. He habitually made such +complacent moral reflections upon his companions to himself, and took +spiritual comfort in them. + +The hall was wide and sunny, made homelike by low seats and growing plants: +it was occupied by half a dozen committee-men, who were waiting impatiently +to see Mr. Van Ness. The princess seated herself, attentive, her head on +one side like some bright-eyed tropical bird. + +Van Ness, without even a glance toward her, took up his business of +Christian financier. "Do not go, I beg," as the captain opened the inner +door for Rhodes and the ladies to retire. "Our affairs are conducted in the +eyes of the public. Sound integrity has no secrets to keep. That is our +pride.--Ah, gentlemen?" + +The captain was glad to stay. Surely, Jane would be impressed with the vast +influence of this good man. Van Ness did not look at her once. But he saw +nobody but her, and spoke directly to her ear. + +Asylums, workingmen's homes, hospitals, in all of which he was a director, +were brought up and dismissed with a few hopeful, earnest words. The vast +system of organized charities through which the kindly wealthy class touch +the poor beneath them was opened. Mrs. Wilde, a manager in many of them, +joined in the discussion. + +"What a useless creature I am!" thought Jane. "But the money," doggedly, +"is mine, and I choose to give it to father if the whole world go hungry." +She turned, however, from one representative of these asylums to the other +with a baited look. Was it this one or that whom she had robbed? + +"Now, as to Temperance City--_our_ city?" demanded a puffy little man +importantly. "You are the fountain-head of information there. We look to +you, Mr. Van Ness." + +"You shall have the annual report next week.--Temperance City," turning to +Rhodes, his balmy gaze aimed straight over her head, "is a scheme to +protect people of small means in the churches, especially women, from +wrecking their little all in unwise investments. It is a town on the line +of the Pacific Railroad. Lots are only sold to colonists who are +tee-totallers and members of some church. The stock is owned largely by the +same class." + +"Oh, almost altogether!" cried the little man enthusiastically. "Mr. Van +Ness's name, as you will understand, gives it authority among all religious +people. We distribute prospectuses at camp-meetings and at all sectarian +seaside resorts. Shares go off this summer like hot cakes. There's nothing +like religion, sir, to back up business enterprise. There's Stokes, for +instance. His shoes are sold from New Jersey to Oregon on the strength of +the hymns he has written." + +"Yes," said the judge solemnly. "We used to keep religion too much in the +chimney-corner--spoke of it with bated breath. But it's in trade now, sir. +We hear every day of our Christian shoe-makers and railway kings and +statesmen. The world moves!" + +"Moves? Oh there's no lever like religion!" gasped the little man. "No +advertisement to equal it. And a good man ought to succeed! Are the +swindlers to take all the fat of the land? Does not the good Book say, 'To +the laborers belong the spoils'?" + +"But this is so charming to me!" cried the princess. "We foreigners have so +few opportunities of looking into the workings of your politics and trade!" + +Van Ness bowed respectfully. + +"And the State Home for destitute children?" asked a raw-boned +Scotch-Irishman. "We're interested in that here in New York. We've +subscribed largely, as you're aware, Mr. Van Ness. May I ask when you wull +begin the buildin'?" + +"In the spring, I trust. If enough funds are collected." + +"And hoo air the funds invested in the mean while?" + +"Oh, in corner-lots in Temperance City." + +The committee-men had hurried away to catch the next train: lunch was over, +and Mr. Van Ness stood apart on the lawn under the drooping branches of a +willow, when the princess tripped lightly out to him. + +"You have an object in coming here? You had an object in bringing those men +to-day and opening out your affairs. What is it?" + +He regarded her composedly for a moment without answering: "You always +erred, Charlotte, in ascribing your own skill in intrigue to me. It was a +flattering mistake. What I am to others I am to myself." + +She laughed, a merry, hearty laugh: "Yes, Pliny, because you are not +satisfied with cheating the world and the God that made you into the belief +that you are a Christian, but you parade in your godliness before yourself. +There is not a spot within you sound enough for your real soul to lodge in. +It is all like that," setting her foot viciously on a fallen apple. "Rotten +to the core!" + +A shadow of disgust passed over his handsome face. Van Ness had a +fastidious taste. Her melodramatic poses had been familiar to him for +years: they always had annoyed and bored him. + +"What is it that brings you here? A woman?" + +He hesitated a moment: "Yes." + +"This yellow-haired girl? You mean to marry her?" + +"I may marry her," cautiously. + +Their eyes met. "I did not think you would push me so far," she said +thoughtfully. + +"It is to your interest not to interfere. You are mad, Charlotte. But you +never lose sight of the dirty dollar in your madness." + +"That is for Ted's sake," quietly. "I dislike that girl. She's so damnably +clean! She's of the sort that would walk straight on and trample me under +foot like a slug if she knew what I was. I owe her an old grudge, too. But +that's nothing," laughing good-humoredly. "It was the most ridiculous +scene! But it lost me a year's income. She nearly recognized me to-day. On +the whole, I'll not interfere. Marry her. She deserves just such a +punishment. By the way, there is my card. You can send the back payments +that are due, to-morrow." + +Van Ness received the card and command with a smile and bow, meant for the +bystanders: "Of course, Charlotte, you understand that these payments must +soon stop. I shall rid myself of any legal claims you have upon me before +marrying another woman." + +"Oh, I've no doubt you'll walk strictly according to law! You will not run +the risk of a lawsuit, much less prosecution, even for Miss Swendon. You +will have no trouble in gaining your freedom from me," shrilly. + +"None whatever," stripping the leaves from a willow wand. She left him +without a word, going to the house. + +Mrs. Wilde had just summoned her carriage. "Where is the princess?" looking +lazily around. + +"Is Madame Trebizoff a guest in your house?" asked Jane suddenly. + +"Yes." + +"I will call her. I have something to say to her." + +She went to meet her with the grave motherly firmness with which she would +have gone to give a scolding to black Buff or a lazy chambermaid. The +princess, crossing the grass, slender, dark, sparkling, had no doubt of her +own smouldering passionate hate against her. It was the proper thing for +Hagar to hate Sarah. Life was thin and insipid without great remorses, +revenges, loves. The poor little creature was always aiming at them, and +falling short. She was wondering now why Jane wore no jewelry. "Not an +earring! Not a hoop on her finger! If I had her money!" glancing down at +the blaze of rubies on her breast. + +They met under a clump of lilacs. + +"Stop one moment," said Jane, looking down at her not unkindly. "You must +not let this go too far, you know." + +"What do you mean?" The princess fixed her eye upon her, with a somewhat +snaky light in it. Indeed, when she assumed that attitude toward Van Ness +or any other man she could frighten and hold him at bay as if she had been +a cobra about to strike. But the lithe dark body, the vivid color, the +beady eye only reminded Jane oddly of a darting little lizard, and tempted +her to laugh. + +"No. You really must keep within bounds. Because I have my eye upon you. I +can't let you cheat that good soul, who brought you here, to her damage." + +The princess gasped and whitened as though a cold calm hand was laid on her +miserable sham of a body. + +"Do you know who I am?" stiffening herself into her idea of regal bearing. + +"Not exactly. It does not matter in the least, either. I took your means of +earning a living from you once, you told me, and I don't wish to do it +again. I will not interfere as long as you hurt nobody." + +The princess stared at her and burst into an hysteric laugh: "I believe, in +my soul, you mean just what you say! You are the shrewdest or stupidest +woman I ever saw! Do you sympathize with me? Do you feel for me?" +tragically, "or are you trying to worm my secret from me?" + +"Neither one nor the other," coolly. "I know your secret. You are no spirit +and no princess. I shall pity you perhaps when you go to some honest work. +Why," with sudden interest, "I can find steady work for you at once. A +staymaker in the village told me the other day--" + +"_I_ make stays!" + +They both laughed. Jane's chief thought probably was how bony and sickly +this poor woman was: her own solid white limbs seemed selfish to her for +the instant. She took the twitching, ringed fingers in her hand. + +"Play out your own play," she said good-humoredly. "You will not hurt +anybody very seriously, I fancy." + +They walked in silence to the house. + +The princess bent forward in the carriage-window as they drove away to look +back at her. "I wish my son knew such women as that!" she cried. + +"Son?" said the startled Mrs. Wilde. "You have not spoken before to me of +your son, madame." + +"I have always kept him under tutors--at Leipsic." + +She leaned back as they drove through the sunshine, her filmy handkerchief +to her painted eyes, seeing nothing but an ugly, honest-faced boy hard at +work in a bare Presbyterian chapel. He would never know nor guess the life +of shame which his mother led! Her tears were real now. + +She even had wild, visionary thoughts of a confession, of staymaking, of so +many dollars a week regularly. But she remembered the time when some fussy, +good women had put her in charge of a fashionable Kindergarten. There was a +fat salary! The house was luxurious: the teachers did the work. But one +night she had broken the finical apparatus to pieces, left a heap of +bonbons for the children, scrawled a verse of good-bye with chalk on the +blackboard, and taken to the road again without a penny. + +REBECCA HARDING DAVIS. + +[TO BE CONTINUED.] + + + + +ALFRED DE MUSSET. + + +It is twenty years since the death of Alfred de Musset, a poet whose +popularity and influence, both in his own country and out of it, can be +compared only to Byron's. Not that the Frenchman is known in England as the +Englishman is known in France, but the latter country may be called the +open side of the Channel, and in establishing a comparison between the +relative fame and familiarity of foreign names and ideas there and on the +isolated side, it is proportion rather than quantity which must be kept in +view. While Byron is out of fashion in his own country, the rage for +Musset, which for a long time made him appear not so much the favorite +modern poet of France as the only one, has subsided into a steady +admiration and affection, a permanent preference. New editions of his +works, both cheaper and more costly, are being constantly issued, portraits +of him are multiplied, his pieces are regularly performed at the Théātre +Franēais, his verses are on every one's lips, his tomb is heaped with +flowers on All Souls' Day. Until after his death it would have been easy to +count those who knew even his name in this country and England: as usual in +such matters, we preceded the English in our acquaintance with him. The +freedom with which Owen Meredith and Mr. Swinburne helped themselves from +his poems proves how unfamiliar the general public was with him ten years +ago, but his distinction is now so well recognized in that island, so +remote from external impressions, that some knowledge of his life and +writings formed part of the French course last year in the higher local +examinations of Cambridge University. + +Alfred de Musset belongs to the class of poets whose inner history excites +most curiosity, because his readers feel that there lies the spring of his +power, the secret of his charm, as well as the key to the riddles and +inconsistencies which his writings present: they are so imbued with the +essence of a common humanity that the heart that beats, the tears which +start, the blood which courses through them, keep time with our own. The +desire to penetrate still further into the intimacy to which they admit us +is quite distinct from the vulgar inquisitiveness which pursues celebrity, +or merely notoriety, into privacy. His biography has lately been published +by one who recognizes the true nature of this curiosity: Paul de Musset has +reserved the right of telling his brother's story, regarding it, he says, +"not only as a duty I owe to the man I loved best, and whose most intimate +and confidential friend I was, but as a necessary complement to the perfect +understanding of his works, for his work was himself." + +The way in which this task has been performed is not entirely satisfactory, +and many passionate admirers of the poet, the order of readers to whom it +is dedicated, will feel disappointment and a regretful sense of its failing +to fulfil what it undertook, increased by the conviction that, having been +undertaken by the hand best fitted for it by natural propriety, it cannot +be done again. The book bears the relation to what one desired and expected +that a bare diary does to the journal, or memoranda to the lecture. It is a +collection of notes on the life of Alfred de Musset, rather than a full +memoir. This inadequacy arises principally from the biographer himself. +Paul de Musset, the poet's elder and only brother, is a man of taste and +cultivation, a judge of art, literature, music and the drama, a person of +charming manners and conversation, dignified, kindly, courteous, easy: he +was until middle age a busy, working man, whose leisure moments were +occupied with writings that have found little favor, except the _Femmes de +la Rčgence_ and the pretty child's story of _M. le Vent et Mme. la Pluie_, +which latter has been translated. He was the devoted, unselfish friend and +mentor of Alfred, to whose juniority and genius he extended an indulgence +of which he needed no share for himself: in fact, he was the elder brother +of the Prodigal in everything but want of generosity. A more amiable +portrait cannot be imagined than the one to be drawn of him from the +history of his intercourse with his brother and from Alfred's own letters +and verses to him. This, however, was not the person to give us such an +account and analysis of the life and character of Alfred de Musset as the +subject called for: he has neither the necessary impartiality nor ability. +He is now seventy years old, and although, like his brother, he has the +gift of appearing a decade less than his age, he is forced to remember that +the time must come when he will no longer be here to defend his brother's +memory, which has suffered more than one cruel attack. Having once had to +silence calumny under cover of fiction, he naturally wished to put his name +beyond the reach of being further traduced. Whatever the shortcomings of +the performance, it could not fail to be interesting. It is written in an +easy, well-bred style, like the author's way of talking--not without a +sense of humor, with touching pride in his brother's endowments, and +tenderness toward faults which he does not deny. In place of comprehensive +views and sound judgment of Alfred de Musset's genius and career, we have +the knowledge of absolute intimacy and sympathy, candor, a hoard of +reminiscences and details which could be gained from no other source, and, +more than all, that certainty as to events and motives which can exist only +where there has been a lifelong daily association without disguise or +distrust. + +The family of Musset is old and gentle, and was adorned in early centuries +by soldiers of mark and statesmen of good counsel--the sort of lineage +which should bequeath high and honorable ideas, an inheritance of which +neither Paul nor Alfred de Musset nor their immediate forbears were +unworthy. A disposition to letters and poetry appears among their ancestry +on both sides, beginning in the twelfth century with Colin de Musset, a +sort of troubadour, a friend of Thibaut, count of Champagne, while the +poet's paternal grandmother bore the name of Du Bellay, so illustrious in +the annals of French literature. Alfred de Musset's parents were remarkable +for goodness of heart and high principle: both possessed an ideality which +showed itself with them in elevation of moral sentiments, and which passed +into the imaginative qualities of their sons. From remoter relatives on +both sides came a legacy of wit, promptness and point in retort, gayety +and good spirits. Alfred de Musset was born on the 11th of December, 1810, +in the old quarter of Paris, on the left bank of the Seine. The stories of +his childhood--which are pretty, like all true stories about children--show +a sensitive, affectionate, vivacious, impetuous, perverse nature, +precocious observation and intelligence. He was one of those beautiful, +captivating children whom nobody can forbear to spoil, and who, with the +innocent cunning of their age, reckon on the effect of their own charms. He +was not four years old when he first fell in love, as such mere babies, +both girls and boys, occasionally do: these infantine passions exhibit most +of the phenomena of maturer ones, and show how intense and absorbing a +passion may be which belongs exclusively to the region of sentiment and +imagination. Alfred de Musset's first love was his cousin, a young girl +nearly grown up when he first saw her: he left his playthings to listen to +her account of a journey she had made from Belgium, then the seat of war, +and from that day, whenever she came to the house, insisted on her telling +him stories, which she did with the patience and invention of Scheherazade. +At last he asked her to marry him, and, as she did not refuse, considered +her his betrothed wife. After some time she returned to her home in Liége: +there were tears on both sides--on his genuine and excessive grief. "Do not +forget me," said Clélia.--"Forget you! Don't you know that your name is cut +upon my heart with a pen-knife?" He set himself to learn to read and write +with incredible application, that he might be able to correspond with his +beloved. His attachment did not abate with absence, so that when Clélia +really married, the whole family thought it necessary to keep it a secret +from her little lover, and he remained in ignorance of it for years, +although he betrayed extraordinary suspicion and misgiving on the subject. +He was a schoolboy of eight or nine before he learned the truth, and was at +first extremely agitated: he asked tremblingly if Clélia had been making +fun of him, and being assured that she had not, but that they had not +allowed her to wait for him, and that she loved him like an elder sister, +he grew calm and said, "I will be satisfied with that." The cousins seldom +met in after-life, but preserved a tender affection for each other, which +served to avert a lawsuit and rupture that threatened to grow out of a +business disagreement between the two branches of the family. In 1852, +Clélia came to Paris to be present at Alfred's reception by the French +Academy. He had great confidence in her taste and judgment, and the last +time they met he said to her, "If there should ever be a handsome edition +of my works, I will have a copy bound for you in white vellum with a gold +band, as an emblem of our friendship." + +His first literary passion was the _Arabian Nights_, which filled the +imagination of both brothers with magical lamps, wishing-carpets and secret +caverns for nearly a twelvemonth, during which they were incessantly trying +to carry out their fancies by constructing enchanted towers and palaces +with the furniture of their apartment. The Eastern stories were superseded +by tales of chivalry: Paul lit upon the _Four Sons of Aymon_ in his +grandfather's library, and a new world opened before him in which he +hastened to lose himself, taking his younger brother by the hand. The +children devoured _Jerusalem Delivered_, _Orlando Furioso_, _Amadis de +Gaule_, and all the poems, tales and traditions of knighthood on which they +could lay hands. Their games now were of nothing but tilts and jousts, +single combats, adventures and deeds of arms: the paladins were their +imaginary playfellows. A little comrade, who charged with an extraordinary +rush in the excitement of the tournament, generally represented Roland: +Alfred, being the youngest and smallest of the three, was allowed to bear +the enchanted lance, the first touch of which unseated the boldest rider +and bravest champion--a pretty device of the elder brother's, in which one +hardly knows whether to be most charmed with the poetic fancy or the +protecting affection which it displayed. The delightful infatuation lasted +for several years, undergoing some gradual modifications. Until he was +nine, Alfred had been chiefly taught at home by a tutor, but at that age he +was sent to school, where the first term dispelled his belief in the +marvellous. His brother was by this time at boarding-school, and they met +only on Sunday, when they renewed their knightly sports, but with +diminished ardor. One day Alfred asked Paul seriously what he thought of +magic, and Paul confessed his scepticism. The loss of this dear delusion +was a painful shock to Alfred, as it is to many children. Who cannot +remember the change which came over the world when he first learned that +Krisskinkle _alias_ Santa Claus did not fill the Christmas stocking--that +the fairies had not made the greener ring in the grass, where he had firmly +believed he might have seen them dancing in the moonlight if he could only +have sat up late enough? The Musset children fell back upon the mysterious +machinery of old romance--trap-doors, secret staircases, etc.--and began +tapping and sounding the walls for private passages and hidden doorways; +but in vain. It was at this stage of the fever that _Don Quixote_ was given +to them; and it is a singular illustration both of the genius of the book +and the intelligence of the little readers that it put their giants, dwarfs +and knights to flight. During the following summer they passed a few weeks +at the manor-house of Cogners with an uncle, the marquis de Musset, the +head of the family: to their great joy, the room assigned them had +underneath the great canopied bedstead a trap leading into a small chamber +built in the thickness of the floor between the two stories of the old +feudal building. Alfred could not sleep for excitement, and wakened his +brother at daybreak to help him explore: they found the secret chamber full +of dust and cobwebs, and returned to their own room with the sense that +their dreams had been realized a little too late. On looking about them +they saw that the tapestry on their walls represented scenes from _Don +Quixote:_ they burst out laughing, and the days of chivalry were over. + +Alfred de Musset was nine years old, as we have said, when he began to +attend the Collége Henri IV. (now Corneille), on entering which he took his +place in the sixth form, among boys for the most part of twelve or upward. +He was sent to school on the first day with a deep scalloped collar and his +long light curls falling upon his shoulders, and being greeted with jeers +and yells by his schoolmates, went home in tears, and the curls were cut +off forthwith. He was an ambitious rather than an assiduous scholar, and +kept his place on the bench of honor by his facility in learning more than +by his industry; but it was a source of keen mortification to him if he +fell behindhand. His talents soon attracted the attention of the masters +and the envy of the pupils, the latter of whom were irritated and +humiliated by seeing the little curly-pate, the youngest of them all, +always at the head of the class. The laziest and dullest formed a league +against him: every day, when school broke up, he was assaulted with a +brutality equal to that of an English public school, but which certainly +would not have been roused against him there by the same cause. He had to +run amuck through the courtyard to the gate, where a servant was waiting +for him, often reaching it with torn clothes and a bloody face. This +persecution was stopped by his old playfellow, Orlando Furioso, who was two +years his senior: he threw himself into the crowd one day and dealt his +redoubtable blows with so much energy that he scattered the bullies once +for all. Among their schoolmates was the promising duke of Orleans, who was +then duc de Chartres, his father, afterward King Louis Philippe, bearing at +that time the former title. He took a strong fancy to Alfred de Musset, +which he showed by writing him a profusion of notes during recitation, most +of them invitations to dinner at Neuilly, where he occasionally went with +other school-fellows of the young prince. For a time after leaving school +De Chartres--as he was called by his young friends--kept up a lively +correspondence with Alfred, and when their boyish intimacy naturally +expired the recollection of it remained fresh and lively in the prince's +mind, as was afterward proved. + +De Musset left college at the age of sixteen, having taken a prize in +philosophy for a Latin metaphysical essay. His disposition to inquire and +speculate had already manifested itself by uneasy questions in the classes +of logic and moral philosophy; and although few will agree with his brother +that his writings show unusual aptitude and profound knowledge in these +sciences, or that, as he says, "the thinker was always on a level with the +poet," nobody can deny the constant questioning of the Sphinx, the eager, +restless pursuit of truth, which pervades his pages. He pushed his search +through a long course of reading,--Descartes, Spinoza, Cabanis, Maine de +Biran--only to fall back upon an innate faith in God which never forsook +him, although it was strangely disconnected with his mode of life. + +I have lingered over the early years of Alfred de Musset because the +childhood of a poet is the mirror wherein the image of his future is seen, +and because there is something peculiarly touching in this season of +innocence and unconsciousness of self in the history of men whose after +lives have been torn to pieces by the storms of vicissitude and passion. So +far, he had not begun to rhyme--an unusual case, as boys who can make two +lines jingle, whether they be poets or not, generally scribble plentifully +before leaving school. At the age of fourteen he wrote some verses to his +mother on her birthday, but it is fair to suppose that they gave no hint of +talent, as they have not been preserved: it was only from his temperament +that his destiny might be guessed. The impressions of his infancy were +singularly vivid and deep, and acted directly upon his imagination: they +are reflected in his works in pictures and descriptions full of grace or +power. The ardent Bonapartism of his family, particularly of his mother, +whom he loved and revered, took form from his recollections in the +magnificent opening of the _Confession d'un Enfant du Sičcle,_ which has +the double character of a prose poem and a kindling oration, while by the +volume and sonorous beauty of the phrase it reminds one of a grand musical +composition. When he was between seven and eight years old his family +passed the summer at an old country-place to which belonged a farm, and he +and his brother found inexhaustible amusement among the tenants and their +occupations. He never saw it again, but it is reproduced with perfect +fidelity in the tale of _Margot_. The chivalric mania left, as Paul de +Musset observes, a love of the romantic and fantastic, a tendency to look +upon life as a novel, an enjoyment of what was unexpected and unlikely, a +disposition to trust to chance and the course of events. The motto of the +Mussets was a condensed expression of the gallant love-making, Launcelot +side of knightly existence--_Courtoisie, Bonne Aventure aux Preux_ +("Courtesy, Good Luck to the Paladin;" or, to translate the latter clause +more freely, yet more faithfully to the spirit of the original, "None but +the Brave Deserve the Fair"). It came from two estates--_Courtoisie_, which +passed out of the family in the last century, and _Bonne Aventure_, a +property on the Loire, which was not part of Alfred's patrimony. The +fairies who endowed him at his christening with so many gifts and graces +must have meant to complete his outfit when they presented him with such a +device, which might have been invented for him at nineteen. On leaving +college he continued his education by studying languages, drawing, and +music to please himself, and attempting several professions to satisfy the +reasonable expectations of his father. He found law dry, medicine +disgusting, and, discouraged by these failures, he fell into low spirits, +to which he was always prone even at the height of his youthful +joyousness--declared to his brother that he was and ever should be good for +nothing, that he never should be able to practise a profession, and never +could resign himself to being _any particular kind of man._ His talent for +drawing led him to work in a painter's studio and in the galleries of the +Louvre with some success, and for a time he was in high spirits at the +idea of having found his calling, and pursued it while attending lectures +and classes on other subjects. This uncertainty lasted a couple of years, +during which he began to venture a little into society, of which, like most +lively, versatile young people, he was extravagantly fond. His Muse was +still dormant, but his love for poetry was strongly developed; a volume of +André Chenier was always in his pocket, and he delighted to read it under +the trees in the avenues of the Bois on his daily walk out of Paris to the +suburb of Auteuil, where his family lived at that time. Under this +influence he wrote a poem, which he afterward destroyed, excepting a few +good descriptive lines which he introduced into one of later date. +Meanwhile, he had been presented to the once famous Cénacle, the nucleus of +the romantic school, then in the pride and flush of youth and rapidly +increasing popularity; its head-quarters were at the house of Victor Hugo +_facile princeps ordinis_ even among its chiefs. There he met Alfred de +Vigny, Mérimée, Sainte-Beuve and others, whose talents differed essentially +in kind and degree, but who were temporarily drawn together by similarity +of literary principles and tastes. Their meetings were entirely taken up +with intellectual discussions, or the reading of a new production, or in +walks which have been commemorated by Mérimée and Sainte-Beuve, when they +carried their romanticism to the towers of Notre Dame to see the sun set or +the moon rise over Paris. + +Stimulated by this companionship, Alfred de Musset began to compose. His +first attempt at publication was anonymous, a ballad called "A Dream," +which, through the good offices of a friend, was accepted by _Le +Provincial,_ a tri-weekly newspaper of Dijon: it did not pass unnoticed, +but excited a controversy in print between the two editors, to the extreme +delight of the young poet, who always fondly cherished the number of the +paper in which it appeared. At length, one morning he woke up Sainte-Beuve +with the laughing declaration that he too was a poet, and in support of +his assertion recited some of his verses to that keenly attentive and +appreciative ear. Sainte-Beuve at once announced that there was "a boy full +of genius among them," and as long as he lived, whatever Paul de Musset's +fraternal sensitiveness may find to complain of, he never retracted or +qualified that first judgment. The _Contes d'Italie et d'Espagne_ followed +fast, and were recited to an enthusiastic audience, who were the more +lenient to the exaggerations and affectations of which, as in most youthful +poetry, there were plenty, since these bore the stamp of their own mint. + +Alfred de Musset's first steps in life were made at the same time with his +first essays in poetry. He was so handsome, high-spirited and gay that +women did not wait to hear that he was a genius to smile upon him. His +brother, who is tall, calls him of medium height, five feet four inches +(about five feet nine, English measure), slender, well-made and of good +carriage: his eyes were blue and full of fire; his nose was aquiline, like +the portraits of Vandyke; his profile was slightly equine in type: the +chief beauty of his face was his forehead, round which clustered the +many-shaded masses of his fair hair, which never turned gray: the +countenance was mobile, animated and sensitive; the predominating +expression was pride. Paul relates without reserve how one married woman +encouraged his brother and trifled with him, using his devotion to screen a +real intrigue which she was carrying on, and that another, who was lying in +wait for him, undertook his consolation. One morning Alfred made his +appearance in spurs, with his hat very much on one side and a huge bunch of +hair on the other, by which signs his brother understood that his vanity +was satisfied. He was just eighteen. That a man of respectable life and +notions like Paul de Musset should take these adventures as a matter of +course makes it difficult for an American to find the point of view whence +to judge a society so abominably corrupt. Thus at the age of a college-boy +in this country he was started on the career which was destined to lead to +so much unhappiness, and in the end to his destruction. Dissipation of +every sort followed, debts, from which he was never free, and the habit of +drinking, which proved fatal at last. To the advice and warnings of his +brother he only replied that he wished to know everything by experience, +not by hearsay--that he felt within him two men, one an actor, the other a +spectator, and if the former did a foolish thing the latter profited by it. +On this pernicious reasoning he pursued for three years a dissolute mode of +life, which, thanks to the remarkable strength and elasticity of his +constitution, did not prevent his carrying on his studies and going with +great zest into society, where he became more and more welcome, besides +writing occasionally. He translated De Quincey's _Confessions of an English +Opium-Eater_, introducing some reveries of his own, but the work attracted +no attention. During this period his father, naturally anxious about his +son's unprofitable courses, one morning informed him that he had obtained a +clerkship for him in an office connected with the military commissariat. +Alfred did not venture to demur, but the confinement and routine of an +office were intolerable, and he resolved to conquer his liberty by every +effort of which he was capable. He offered his manuscripts for publication +to M. Canel, the devoted editor of the romantic party: they fell short by +five hundred lines of the number of pages requisite for a volume of the +usual octavo bulk. He obtained a holiday, which he spent with a favorite +uncle who lived in the provinces, and came back in three weeks with the +poem of "Mardoche." He persuaded his father to give a literary party, to +which his friends of the Cénacle were invited, and repeated his latest +compositions to them, including "Mardoche." Here we have another example of +manners startling to our notions: the keynote of these verses was rank +libertinism, yet in his mother's drawing-room and apparently in the +presence of his father, a dignified, reputable man, venerated by his +children, this young rake declaimed stanzas more licentious than any in +Byron's _Don Juan_. But it caused no scandal: the friends were rapturous, +and predicted the infallible success of the poems, in which they were +justified by the event. "Rarely," says Paul de Musset, "has so small a +quantity of paper made so much noise." There was an uproar among the +newspapers, some applauding with all their might, others denouncing the +exaggeration of the romantic tendency: the romanticists themselves were +disconcerted to find the "Ballade ą la Lune," which they had taken as a +good joke, turned into a joke against themselves. At all events, the young +man was launched, and his vocation was thenceforth decided. In reading +these first productions of Alfred de Musset's without the prejudice or +partiality of faction, it cannot be denied that if not sufficient in +themselves to ensure his immortality, they contain lines of finished beauty +as perfect as the author ever produced--ample guarantee of what might be +expected from the development of his genius. + +He now began to be tired of sowing wild oats, and became less irregular in +his mode of life. A lively, pretty little comedy called _Une Nuit +Vénitienne_, which he wrote at the request of the director of the Odéon, +for some inexplicable cause fell flat, which, besides turning him aside +from writing for the stage during a number of years, discouraged him +altogether for some time. Before he entirely recovered from the check he +lost his father, who died suddenly of cholera in 1832. The shock left him +sobered and calm, anxious to fulfil his duties toward his mother and young +sister, whose means, it was feared, would be greatly diminished by the loss +of M. de Musset's salary. Alfred resolved to publish another volume of +poetry, and, if this did not succeed to a degree to warrant his considering +literature a means of support, to get a commission in the army. He set +himself industriously to work, and inspiration soon rewarded the effort: in +six months his second volume appeared, comprising "Le Saule," "Vux +Stériles," "La Coupe et les Lčvres," "A quoi rčvent les jeunes filles," +"Namouna," and several shorter pieces. Among those enumerated there are +splendid passages, second in beauty and force to but a few of his later +poems, the sublime "Nuits," "Souvenir," and the incomparable opening of +"Rolla." Again he convoked the friends who three years before had greeted +the _Contes d'Espagne_ with acclamation, but, to the unutterable surprise +and disappointment of both brothers, there was not a word of sympathy or +applause: Mérimée alone expressed his approbation, and assured the young +poet that he had made immense progress. Perhaps the others took in bad part +their former disciple's recantation of romanticism, which he makes in the +dedication of "La Coupe et les Lčvres" after the following formula: + + For my part, I hate those snivellers in boats, + Those lovers of waterfalls, moonshine and lakes, + That breed without name, which with journals and notes, + Tears and verses, floods every step that it takes: + Nature no doubt but gives back what you lend her; + After all, it may be that they do comprehend her, + But them I do certainly not comprehend. + +The chill of this introduction was not carried off by the public reception +of the _Spectacle dans un Fauteuil_ (as the new collection was entitled), +which remained almost unnoticed for some weeks, until Sainte-Beuve in the +_Revue des Deux Mondes_ of January 15, 1833, published a review of this and +the earlier poems, indicating their beauty and originality, the promise of +the one and progress of the other, with his infallible discernment and +discrimination. A few critics followed his lead, others differed, and +discussions began again which could not but spread the young man's fame. +The _Revue des Deux Mondes_ was now open to him, and henceforth, with a few +exceptions, whatever he wrote appeared in that periodical. He made his +entry with the drama of _Andrea del Sarto_, which is rife with tense and +tragic situations and deeply-moving scenes. The affairs of the family +turned out much better than had been expected, but Alfred de Musset +continued to work with application and ardor. His fine critical faculty +kept his vagaries within bounds: he knew better than anybody "how much good +sense it requires to do without common sense"--a dictum of his own. Like +every true artist, he took his subjects wherever he found them: the +dripping raindrops and tolling of the convent-bell suggested one of +Chopin's most enchanting _Preludes;_ the accidental attitudes of women and +children in the street have given painters and sculptors their finest +groups; so a bunch of fresh roses which De Musset's mother put upon his +table one morning during his days of extravagant dissipation, saying, "All +this for fourpence," gave him a happy idea for unravelling the perplexity +of Valentin in _Les Deux Maītresses;_ and his unconscious exclamation, "Si +je vous le disais pourtant que je vous aime," which caused a passer-by in +the street to laugh at him, furnished the opening of the _Stances ą Ninon_, +like Dante's + + Donne ch'avete intelletto d'amore. + +These fortunate dispositions were interrupted by a meeting which affected +his character and genius more than any other event in his life. It is +curious that Madame Sand and De Musset originally avoided making each +other's acquaintance. She fancied that she should not like him, and he, +although greatly struck by the genius of her first novel, _Indiana_, +disliked her overloaded style of writing, and struck out in pencil a +quantity of superfluous adjectives and other parts of speech in a copy +which unluckily fell into her hands. Their first encounter was followed by +a sudden, almost instantaneous, mutual passion--on his part the first and +strongest if not the only one, of his life. The first season of this +intimacy was like a long summer holiday. "It seemed," writes the +biographer, "as if a partnership in which existence was so gay, to which +each brought such contributions of talent, wit, grace, youth, and +good-humor, could never be dissolved. It seemed as if such happy people +should find nothing better to do than remain in a home which they had made +so attractive for themselves and their friends.... I never saw such a happy +company, nor one which cared so little about the rest of the world. +Conversation never flagged: they passed their time in talking, drawing, and +making music. A childish glee reigned supreme. They invented all sorts of +amusements, not because they were bored, but because they were overflowing +with spirits." But Paris became too narrow for them, and they fled--first +to Fontainebleau, then to Italy. Musset's mother was deeply opposed to the +latter project, foreseeing misfortune with the prescience of affection, and +he promised not to go without her consent, although his heart was set upon +it. The most incredible story in the biography is that Madame Sand actually +surprised Madame de Musset into an interview, and, by appeals, eloquence, +persuasion and vows, obtained her sorrowful acquiescence. + +The lamentable story of that Italian journey has been told too often and by +too many people to need repetition here. No doubt Paul de Musset has told +it as fairly as could be expected from his brother's side: probably the +circumstances occurred much as he sets them down. But he could not make due +allowance for the effect which Alfred's dissolute habits had produced upon +his character: he was but twenty-three, and had run the round of vice; he +had already depicted the moral result of such courses in his terrible +allegory of "La Coupe et les Lčvres:" the idea recurs throughout his works, +conspicuously in the _Confession d'un Enfant du Sičcle_, which is Madame +Sand's best apology. But if his excesses had destroyed his ingenuousness, +she destroyed his faith in human nature, and on her will ever rest the +brand he set in the burning words of the "Nuit d'Octobre." + +He returned to Paris shattered in mind and body, and shut himself up in his +room for months, unable to endure contact with the outer world, or even +that of the loving home circle which environed him with anxious tenderness. +He could not read or write: a favorite piece of music from his young +sister's piano, a game of chess with his mother in the evening, were his +only recreations--his only excitement the letters which still came from +Venice, for which he looked with a sick longing, at which one cannot wonder +on reading them and remembering what a companionship it was that he had +lost. Urged by his brother and his friend M. Buloz, the director of the +_Revue des Deux Mondes_, to try the efficacy of work, he completed his play +of _On ne badine pas avec l'Amour_, already sketched, in which, of all his +dramatic writings, the cry of the heart is most thrilling. Aided by this +effort, he made a journey to Baden in September, five months after his +miserable return to Paris. The change of air and scene restored him, and +his votive offering for the success of his pilgrimage was the charming poem +called "Une Bonne Fortune." Although he had determined not to see Madame +Sand again, their connection was renewed, in spite of himself, when she +came back from Italy: it lasted for a short period, full of angry and +melancholy scenes, quarrels and reconciliations. Then he broke loose for +ever, and went back to the world and his work. + +This episode, of which I have briefly given the outline, was the principal +event of Alfred de Musset's life, the one which marked and colored it most +deeply, which brought his genius to perfection by a cruel and fiery +torture, and left a lasting imprint upon his writings. Although he never +produced anything finer than certain passages of "Rolla," which was +published in 1833, yet previous to that--or more accurately to 1835, when +he began to write again--he had composed no long poem of equal merit +throughout, none in which the flight was sustained from first to last. The +magnificent series of the "Nights" of May, December, August and October, +the "Letter to Lamartine," "Stanzas on the Death of Malibran," "Hope in +God," and a number of others of not less melody and vigor, but less exalted +and serious in tone; several plays, among them _Lorenzaccio_, which missed +only by a very little being a fine tragedy; the greater part of his prose +tales and criticisms, including _Le Fils de Titien_, the most charming of +his stories, and the _Confession d'un Enfant du Sičcle_, which shows as +much genius as any of his poems,--belong to the period from 1835 to 1840, +his apogee. Of the last work, notwithstanding its unmistakable personal +revelations--which, if they do not tell the author's story, at least +reflect his state of mind--Paul de Musset says, what everybody who has read +his brother's writings carefully will feel to be true, that neither in the +hero nor any other single personage must we look for Alfred's entire +individuality. In the complexity of his character and emotions, and the +contradictions which they united, are to be found the eidolon of every +young man in his collection, even "the two heroes of _Les Caprices de +Marianne_, Octave and Clio," says Paul, "although they are the antipodes +of one another." Neither is it as easy as it would seem on the surface to +trace the thread of any one incident of his life through his writings. +Although containing some irreconcilable passages, the four "Nights" +appeared to have been born of the same impulse and to exact the same +dedication: it is undeniably a shock to have their inconsistencies +explained by hearing that while the "Nuits de Mai," "d'Aoūt" and +"d'Octobre" refer to his passion for Madame Sand, the "Nuit de Décembre" +and "Lettre ą Lamartine," which naturally belong to this series, were +dictated by another attachment and another disappointment. I will not stop +to moralize upon this: the story of De Musset's life is really only the +story of his loves. His brother says that he was always in love with +somebody: it was a necessity of his nature and his genius. Before he was +twenty-seven, six different love-affairs are enumerated, without taking +into account numerous affairs of gallantry; nor was the sixth the last. The +"Nuit d'Octobre" was written two years and a half after his return from +Italy, and its terrible malediction is the outbreak of the rankling memory +of his wrong and suffering. It was psychologically in order that while his +love (which does not die in an hour, like trust and respect) survived, it +should surround its object with lingering tenderness, but that as it slowly +expired indignation, scorn and the sense of injury should increase: this is +their final utterance, followed by pardon, a vow of forgetfulness and +farewell, but not a final farewell. That was spoken years afterward, in +1841, when, once again seeing by chance the forest of Fontainebleau, and +about the same time casually encountering Madame Sand, he poured forth his +"Souvenir," a poem of matchless sweetness and beauty, vibrating with +feeling and most musical in expression--an exquisite combination of lyric +and elegy. In this he calls her + + Ma seule amie ą jamais la plus chčre. + +Ten years after this, in one of the last strains of his unstrung harp, a +fragment called "Souvenir des Alpes," the sad chord is touched once more: +up to the end it answered faintly to certain notes. Long after their +rupture and separation he said that he would have given ten years of his +life to marry her had she been free; and it is deplorable that the most +fervent and lasting affection of which he was capable should have been +thrown back upon him in such sort. + +Of marriage there were several schemes at different times: they fell +through because he was averse to them himself, except one to which he much +inclined, the young lady being pretty, intelligent, charming and the +daughter of an old friend; but on the first advances it turned out that she +was engaged to another man. His biographer regrets this deeply, convinced +that such an alliance would have been his brother's salvation; but even if +he could have been more constant to his wife than to his mistresses, the +habit of intemperance was too confirmed to admit much hope of domestic +happiness. The same may be opined in regard to the vague hopes which were +destroyed by the death of the young duke of Orleans. When Louis Philippe +came to the throne, De Musset made no attempt to approach the royal family +on the pretext of the old school-friendship: it was the duke himself who +renewed it in 1836 on accidentally seeing some unpublished verses of the +poet's on the king's escape from an attempt at assassination. Louis +Philippe himself did not like the sonnet, considering the use of the poetic +_thou_ too familiar a form of address: he did not know who was the author; +and when Alfred was presented to him at a court-ball took him for a cousin +who was inspector of the royal forests at Joinville, and continued to greet +him, under this mistake, with a few gracious words two or three times a +year during the rest of his reign, while the poet's name was on the lips +and in the heart of every one else. The duke's favor and friendliness ended +only with his sad and sudden death. + +Paul de Musset tells us that the years 1837 and 1838 were the happiest in +his brother's life. The love-trouble which had wrung from him the "Nuit de +Décembre" was a disappointment, but not a deception, and the parting had +caused equal sorrow on both sides, but no bitterness. After no long +interval appeared "a very young and very pretty person whom he met +frequently in society, of an enthusiastic, passionate nature, independent +in her position, and who bought the poet's books." An acquaintance, a +friendship, a correspondence, a serious passion followed, and became a +relation which lasted two years "without quarrel, storm, coolness or +subject of umbrage or jealousy--two years of love without a cloud, of true +happiness." Why did it not last for ever? The biographer does not give the +answer. It is hinted in a letter to Alfred's friend, the duchesse de +Castries, dated September, 1840, in his _uvres posthumes_: "I have told +you how about a year ago an absurd passion, totally useless and somewhat +ridiculous, made me break with all my habits. I forsook all my +surroundings, my friends of both sexes, the current in which I was living, +and one of the prettiest women in Paris. I did not succeed in my foolish +dream, you must understand; and now I find myself cured, it is true, but +high and dry like a fish in a grain-field." This is probably the clue, and +the foolish dream was for a woman to whom his brother refers as having +repelled Alfred's homage with harshness, and having called forth from him +some short and extremely bitter verses beginning "Oui, femme," and another +called "Adieu!" in which there prevails a tone of quiet but deep feeling. +This is a sad story: he apparently united the volatility and vagrancy of +fancy, the inconstancy of light shallow natures, with the ardor and +intensity of passion and the capacity for suffering which belong to strong +and steadfast ones. There was a childlike quality in his disposition, which +showed itself in a sort of simplicity and spontaneousness in the midst of a +corrupt existence, and still more in the uncontrollable, absorbing violence +of his emotions: they swept over him, momentarily devastating his present +and blotting out the horizon, but unlike the tempests of childhood their +ravages did not disappear when the clouds dispersed and the torrents +subsided. The life of debauchery which had preceded his journey to Italy +was replaced, for some years, by a less excessive degree of dissipation, +during which he lived with a fast set, who, however, were men of talent and +accomplishments, the foremost among them being Prince Belgiojoso. The +influence of the two fortunate years, 1837-38, not only the happiest but +the most fertile of his short career, seems to have weakened these +associations and led him into calmer paths. He had formed several +friendships with women of a sort which both parties may regard with pride, +in particular with the Princess Belgiojoso, one of the most striking and +original figures of our monotonous time, and Madame Maxime Jaubert, a +clever, attractive young woman with a delightful house, whom he called his +_Marraine_ because she had given him a nickname. These women, and +others--but these two above the rest--were sincerely and loyally attached +to him with a disinterested regard which did not spare advice, nor even +rebuke, or relax under his loss of health and brilliancy or neglect of +their kindness, which nevertheless he felt and valued. His purest source of +pleasure was in the talent of others, which gave him a generous and +sympathetic enjoyment. The appearance of Pauline Garcia--now Madame +Viardot--and Rachel, who came out almost simultaneously at the age of +seventeen, added delight to the two happy years. He has left notices of the +first performances of these artistes, the former in opera, the latter on +the stage (for he was musical himself and a _connoisseur_) which are +excellent criticisms, and have even more interest than when they appeared, +now that the career of one has long been closed and that of the other long +completed. His relations with Rachel lasted for many years, interrupted by +the gusts and blasts which the contact of two such natures inevitably +begets. She constantly urged him to write a play for her, and in the year +after her _début_ he wrote a fragment of a drama on the story of +Frédegonde, which she learned by heart and occasionally recited in private; +but there were endless delays and difficulties on both sides, and the rest +was not written. After various episodes and passages between them, De +Musset was dining with her one evening when she had become a great lady and +queen of the theatre, and her other guests were all rich men of fashion. +One of them admired an extremely beautiful and costly ring which she wore. +It was first passed round the table from hand to hand, and then she said +they might bid for it. One immediately offered five hundred francs, another +fifteen, and the ring went up at once to three thousand: "And you, my poet, +why do not you bid? What will you give?" "I will give you my heart," he +replied. "The ring is yours," cried Rachel, taking it off and throwing it +into his plate. After dinner De Musset tried to restore it to her, but she +refused to take it back: he urged and insisted, when she, suddenly falling +on her knee with that sovereign charm of seduction for which she was as +renowned as for her tragic power, entreated him to keep it as a pledge for +the piece he was to write for her. The poet took the ring, and went home +excited and wrought up to the resolve that nothing should interfere with +the completion of his task. But it was the old story again--whims and +postponements on Rachel's part, possibly temper and pique on his--until six +months afterward, at the end of an angry conversation, he silently replaced +the ring on her hand, and she did not resist. Four years later the compact +was renewed, and although by this time De Musset had to all intents and +purposes ceased to write, he struck off the first act of a play called +_Faustina_, the scene of which was laid in Venice in the fourteenth +century; but he put off finishing it, and finally let it drop altogether. + +In December, 1840, Alfred de Musset was thirty years old, and on his +birthday he had one of those reckonings with himself, which the most +deliberately careless and volatile men cannot escape. At twenty-one he had +held a similar settlement: he was then uncertain of his genius, +dissatisfied with his way of life and with the use he made of his time: the +result was his adoption of a more serious line of study and conduct, which +had led him, in spite of interruptions and aberrations, to the brilliant +display of his beautiful and splendid talents, the full exercise of his +wonderful powers. Now another review of his past and survey of his future +left him in a mood of discontent and depression. He felt that he could not +always go on being a boy. The year behind him had been almost sterile, and +marked by the loss of many of what he called his illusions. He had been +implored and urged to write by his friends and editors, had made and broken +promises without number to the latter, and had become involved in money +difficulties to a degree which kept him in constant anxiety and torment. +Yet he steadily rejected all his brother's affectionate advice and +importunities to shake off the deepening lethargy. He would not write +poetry because the Muse did not come of her free will, and he would never +do her violence. He had forsworn prose, because he said everybody wrote +that, and many so ill that he would not swell the number of magazine +story-writers, who, he foresaw, were to lower the standard of fiction and +style. In short, he always had an excuse for doing nothing, and although he +hated above all things to leave Paris, and seldom accepted the invitations +of his friends in the country, he now repeatedly rushed out of town to +escape the visits of editors, who had become no better than duns in his +eyes. When at home he shut himself in his room for days together in so +gloomy a frame of mind that even his brother did not venture to break in +upon him: he even made a furtive attempt at suicide one night when his +despondency reached its lowest depth; it was foiled by the accident of +Paul's having unloaded the pistols and locked up the powder and balls some +time before. He grew morbidly irritable, and resented Paul's remonstrances, +which, we may be sure, were made with all the tact and consideration of +natural delicacy and unselfish affection, generally by laughing at the poor +poet, which was the most effectual way of restoring his courage and +good-humor. One morning he emerged from his seclusion, and with vindictive +desperation threw before his brother a quantity of manuscripts, saying, +"You _would_ have prose: there it is for you." It was the introduction to a +sort of romance called _Le Počte déchu_, a wretched story of a young man of +many gifts who finds himself under the necessity of writing for the support +of his orphan sisters, and it described with harrowing eloquence the vain +efforts of his exhausted brain. The extracts in the biography are painfully +affecting and powerful, but the work was never finished or published. Such +a state of things could not go on indefinitely, and De Musset fell +dangerously ill of congestion of the lungs, brought on by reckless +imprudence when already far from well: the attack was accompanied by so +much fever and delirium that it was at first mistaken for brain fever. This +illness redoubled the tenderness and devotion of his family and friends: +his Marraine and Princess Belgiojoso took turns by his bedside, magnetizing +the unruly patient into quiescence; but the person who exercised the +greatest influence over him was a poor Sister of Charity, Sur Marcelline, +who was engaged to assist in nursing him. The untiring care, +self-abnegation, angelic sweetness and serenity of this humble woman gained +the attachment of the whole family, and established an ascendency over +Alfred's impressionable imagination. She did not confine her office to her +patient's physical welfare, but strove earnestly to minister to him +spiritually. His long convalescence "was like a second birth. He did not +seem more than seventeen: he had the joyousness of a child, the fancies of +a page, like Cherubino in the _Marriage of Figaro_. All the difficulties +and subjects of despair which preceded his malady had vanished in a +rose-colored distance. He passed his days in reading interminable +books--_Clarissa Harlowe_, which he already knew, the _Memorial of St. +Helena_, and all the memoirs relating to the Empire. In the evening we all +gathered about his writing-table to draw and chat, while Sur Marcelline +sat by knitting in bright worsteds. Auguste Barre, our neighbor, came to +work at an album of caricatures in the style of Töppfer's, and we all +amused ourselves with the comic illustrations: Alfred and Barre had the +pencil, the rest of us composed a text as absurd as the drawings. Who will +give us back those delicious evenings of laughter, jest and chat, when +without stirring from home or depending on anything from without our whole +household was so happy?" Alas! they were not of long duration. By and by +Sister Marcelline went away, leaving her patient a pen on which she had +embroidered, "Remember your promises." He was afflicted by her departure, +and wrote some lines to her, who, as he said, did not know what poetry +meant, but he could never be induced to show them, although he repeated +them to Paul and their friend Alfred Tattet, who between them contrived to +note down the four following verses: + + Poor girl! thou art no longer fair. + By watching Death with patient care + Thou pale as he art grown: + By tending upon human pain + Thy hand is worn as coarse in grain + As horny Labor's own. + + But weariness and courage meek + Illuminate thy pallid cheek + Beside the dying bed: + To the poor suffering mortal's clutch + Thy hard hand hath a gentle touch, + With tears and warm blood fed. + + * * * * * + + Tread to the end thy lonely road, + All for thy task and toward thy God, + Thy footsteps day by day. + That evil must exist, we prate, + And wisely leave it to its fate, + And pass another way; + + But thy pure conscience owns it not, + Though ceaseless warfare is thy lot + Against disease and woe; + No ills for thee have power to sting, + Nor to thy lip a murmur bring, + Save those that others know. + +De Musset held in peculiar sacredness and reverence whatever was connected +with this good woman and his feeling for her: seventeen years after this +illness the embroidered pen and a piece of her knitting were buried with +him by almost his last request. + +Seventeen years! a large bit of any one's life--more than a third of Alfred +de Musset's own term--yet there is hardly anything to say about it. The +"Souvenir," which was written about six months after his recovery, is the +last poem in which all his strength, beauty and pathos find expression: he +never wrote again in this vein: it was the last echo of his youth. He +composed less and less frequently, and though what he wrote was redolent of +sentiment, wit, grace and elegance, and some of the short occasional verses +have a consummate charm of finish, the soul seems gone out of his poetry. +His brother mentions a number of compositions begun, but thrown aside; +there were projects of travel never carried out; he gradually gave up the +society of even his oldest friends: everything indicated a rapid decline of +the active faculties. Unhappily, that of suffering seemed only to +increase--no longer the sharp anguish of unspent force which had wrung from +him the passionate cries and plaintive murmurs of former years, but the +dull numbness of hopelessness. His existence was monotonous, and the few +occurrences which varied it were of a sad or unpleasant nature. His sister +married and left Paris, and his mother subsequently went to live with her +in the country, thus breaking up their family circle; Paul de Musset was +absent from France for considerable spaces of time, so that for the first +time Alfred de Musset was compelled to live alone. Friends scattered, some +died: the Orleans family, for whom he had a real affection, was driven from +France; he fancied that his genius was unappreciated--a notion which, +strangely enough, his brother shared--and although he was the last man to +rage or mope over misapprehension, the idea certainly added to his gloom. +Through the good graces of the duke of Orleans he had been appointed +librarian of the Home Office, a post of which he was instantly deprived on +the change of government; but a few years later he was unexpectedly given a +similar one in the Department of Public Education. In 1852 he was elected +to the French Academy, that honor so limited by the small number of +members, so ridiculed by unsuccessful aspirants, yet without which no +French author feels his career to be complete. His plays were being +performed with great favor, his poems and tales were becoming more and more +popular, his verses were set to music, his stories were illustrated: but +all this brought no cheer or consolation to the sick spirit. He lived more +and more alone: the Théātre Franēais, a silent game of chess at his café, +the deadly absinthe, were his only sources of excitement. It is a comfort +to learn that the last ray of pleasure which penetrated his moral dungeon, +reviving for an instant the generous glow of enthusiasm, was the appearance +of Ristori: inspired by her, he began a poetical address which he never +finished, nor even wrote down, but a fragment of it was preserved orally by +one or two who heard it: + + For Pauline and Rachel I sang of hope, + And over Malibran a tear I shed; + But, thanks to thee, I see the mighty scope + Of strength and genius wed. + + Ah keep them long! The heart which breathes the prayer + When genius calls has ever made reply, + Bear smiling home to Italy the fair, + A flower from our sky. + + * * * * * + + They tell me that in spite of grief and wrong, + And pride bent earthward by a tyrant's heel, + A noble race, though crushed and conquered long, + Has not yet learned to kneel. + + Rome's godlike dwellers of a bygone age, + The marble, porphyry, alabaster forms, + Still live: at night, to speech upon the stage, + An ancient statue warms. + + + * * * * * + +What was the cause of De Musset's unhappiness and impotence? His brother +tries to account for them by an enumeration of the distresses and +annoyances mentioned above, and others of the same order; but when one +remembers how the poet's great sorrows, his father's death and the betrayal +of his affection by the first woman he really loved, had given him his +finest conceptions in verse and prose, it is impossible to accept so +insufficient an explanation. Nor can we allow that De Musset sank into a +condition of puerile impatience and senile querulousness. Judged by our +standard, all the Latin races lack manhood, as we may possibly do by +theirs: De Musset was only as much more sensitive than the rest of his +countrymen as those of the poetic temperament are usually found to be in +all countries. Nor had he seen his talent slowly expire: the spring did not +run dry by degrees: it suddenly sank into the ground. He had made a fearful +mistake at the outset, which he discovered too late if at all. Considering +what life is sure to bring to every one in the way of trial and sorrow, it +is not worth while to go in search of emotions and experience which are +certain to find us out; nor is it in the slums of life that its meaning is +to be sought. He had foretold his own end in the prophetic warning of his +Muse: + + Quand les dieux irrités m'ōteront ton génie, + Si je tombe des cieux que me répondras-tu? + +His light was not lost in a storm-cloud nor eclipse, but in the awful +Radnorok, the Götterdämmerung, when sun and stars fall from a blank heaven. +His health and habits constantly grew worse--he had organic disease of the +heart--but his existence dragged on until May 1st, 1857, when an acute +attack carried him off after a few days' illness. He died in his brother's +arms, and his last words were, "Sleep! at last I shall sleep." He had +killed himself physically and intellectually as surely as the wages of sin +are death. + +But let not this be the last word on one so beloved as a poet and a man. +Mental qualities alone never endear their possessor to every being that +comes into contact with him, and Alfred de Musset was idolized by people +who could not even read. There was not a generous or amiable quality in +which he was wanting: he had an inextinguishable ardor for genius and +greatness in every form; he was tender-hearted to excess, could not endure +the sight of suffering, and delighted in giving pleasure; his sympathy was +ready and entire, his loyalty of the truest metal. "He never abused +anybody," says his brother, "nor sacrificed an absent person for the sake +of a good story." He loved animals and children, and they loved him in +return. + +He can never cease to be the poet of the many, for he has melody, +sentiment, passion, all that charms the popular ear and heart--a +personality which is the expression of human nature in a language which, as +he himself says, few speak, but all understand. He can never cease to be +the poet of the few, because, while his poems are a very concentration and +elixir of the most intense and profound feelings of which we are all +capable, they give words to the more exquisite and intimate emotions +peculiar to those of a keener and more refined susceptibility, of a more +exalted and aėrial range. Sainte-Beuve says somewhere, though not in his +final verdict on De Musset, that his chief merit is having restored to +French literature the wit which had been driven out of it by the +sentimentalists. His wit is indeed delightful and irresistible, but it is +not his magic key to souls. In other countries every generation has its own +poet: younger ears are deaf to the music which so long charmed ours; but De +Musset will be the poet of each new generation for a certain season--the +sweetest of all, because, as has been well said, he is the poet of youth. +And if doubt breathes through some of his grandest strophes, Faith finds +her first and last profession in the lines-- + + Une immense espérance a traversé la terre; + Malgré nous vers le ciel il faut lever les yeux. + +SARAH B. WISTER. + + + + +THE BEE. + + + What time I paced, at pleasant morn, + A deep and dewy wood, + I heard a mellow hunting-horn + Make dim report of Dian's lustihood + Far down a heavenly hollow. + Mine ear, though fain, had pain to follow: + _Tara!_ it twang'd, _tara-tara!_ it blew, + Yet wavered oft, and flew + Most ficklewise about, or here, or there, + A music now from earth and now from air. + But on a sudden, lo! + I marked a blossom shiver to and fro + With dainty inward storm; and there within + A down-drawn trump of yellow jessamine + A bee + Thrust up its sad-gold body lustily, + All in a honey madness hotly bound + On blissful burglary. + A cunning sound + In that wing-music held me: down I lay + In amber shades of many a golden spray, + Where looping low with languid arms the Vine + In wreaths of ravishment did overtwine + Her kneeling Live-Oak, thousand-fold to plight + Herself unto her own true stalwart knight. + + As some dim blur of distant music nears + The long-desiring sense, and slowly clears + To forms of time and apprehensive tune, + So, as I lay, full soon + Interpretation throve: the bee's fanfare, + Through sequent films of discourse vague as air, + Passed to plain words, while, fanning faint perfume, + The bee o'erhung a rich unrifled bloom: + "O Earth, fair lordly Blossom, soft a-shine + Upon the star-pranked universal vine, + Hast naught for me? + To thee + Come I, a poet, hereward haply blown, + From out another worldflower lately flown. + Wilt ask, _What profit e'er a poet brings?_ + He beareth starry stuff about his wings + To pollen thee and sting thee fertile: nay, + If still thou narrow thy contracted way, + --Worldflower, if thou refuse me-- + --Worldflower, if thou abuse me, + And hoist thy stamen's spear-point high + To wound my wing and mar mine eye-- + Natheless I'll drive me to thy deepest sweet, + Yea, richlier shall that pain the pollen beat + From me to thee, for oft these pollens be + Fine dust from wars that poets wage for thee. + But, O beloved Earthbloom soft a-shine + Upon the universal jessamine, + Prithee abuse me not, + Prithee refuse me not; + Yield, yield the heartsome honey love to me + Hid in thy nectary!" + And as I sank into a suaver dream + The pleading bee-song's burthen sole did seem, + "Hast ne'er a honey-drop of love for me + In thy huge nectary?" + +SIDNEY LANIER. + + + + +"OUR JOOK." + + +"Königin," said I, as I poked the fire, "what do you think of the people in +the house?" + +On second thoughts it was not "Königin" that I said, for it was only that +night that she received the title. It is of no consequence what I did call +her, however, for from that time she was never anything but Königin to me. + +We began to "talk things over," as we had a way of doing; and very good fun +it was and quite harmless, provided the ventilator was not open. That had +happened once or twice, and got us into quite serious scrapes. People have +such an utterly irrational objection to your amusing yourself in the most +innocent way at what they consider their expense. + +Königin and I had come to the boarding-house that very day. We were by +ourselves, for our male protectors were off "a-hunting the wild deer and +following the roe"--or its Florida equivalent, whatever that may be--and we +did not fancy staying at a hotel under the circumstances. Now, we had taken +our observations, and were prepared to pronounce our opinions on our +fellow-boarders. One after another was canvassed and dismissed. Mr. A. had +eccentric table-manners; Miss B. wriggled and squirmed when she talked; +Mrs. C. was much too lavish of inappropriate epithets; Mr. X.'s +conversation, on the contrary, was quite bald and bare from the utter lack +of those parts of speech; Miss Y. had a nice face, and Mrs. Z. a pretty +hand. + +Just here Königin suddenly burst out laughing. "Really," she said, "we go +about the world criticising people as if we were King Solomon and the queen +of Sheba." + +"'Die Königin von Seba,'" said I. "That, I suppose, is you and our motto +should be, 'Wir sind das Volk und die Weisheit stirbt mit uns.'" + +I was not at all sure of the accuracy of my translation, but its +appropriateness was unquestionable. + +"What do you think of the Englishman, Königin?" I asked, giving the fire +another poke, not from shamefacedness, but because it really needed it, for +the evening was damp and chilly. + +"I like him," said Königin decidedly. + +Königin and I were always prepared with decided opinions, whether we knew +anything about the subject in hand or not. + +"He has a fine head," Königin went on, "quite a ducal contour, according to +our republican ideas of what a duke ought to be. I like the steady intense +light of his eyes under those straight dark brows, and that little frown +only increases the effect. Then his laugh is so frank and boyish. Yes, I +like him very much." + +"He has a nice gentlemanly voice," I suggested--"rather on the +'gobble-gobble' order, but that is the fault of his English birth." + +This is enough of that conversation, for, after all, neither of us is the +heroine of this tale. It is well that this should be distinctly understood +at the start. Somehow, "the Jook" (as we generally called him, in memory of +Jeames Yellowplush) and I became very intimate after that, but it was never +anything more than a sort of _camaraderie_. Königin knew all about it, and +she pronounced it the most remarkable instance of a purely intellectual +flirtation which she had ever seen; which was all quite correct, except for +the term "flirtation," of which it never had a spice. + +One of the Jook's most striking peculiarities, though by no means an +uncommon one among his countrymen, was a profound distrust of new +acquaintances and an utter incapacity of falling into the free and easy +ways which prevail more strongly perhaps in Florida than in any other part +of America. There really was some excuse for him, though, for, not to put +it too strongly, society is a little mixed in Florida, and it is hard for a +foreigner to discriminate closely enough to avoid being drawn into +unpleasant complications if he relaxes in the slightest degree his rules of +reserve. Besides which, the Jook was a man of the most morbid and ultra +refinement. "Refinement" was the word he preferred, but I should have +called it an absurd squeamishness. He could make no allowance for personal +or local peculiarities, and eccentricities in our neighbors which delighted +Königin and me and sent us into fits of laughter excited in his mind only +the most profound disgust. Therefore, partly in the fear of having his +sensibilities unpleasantly jarred upon, partly from the fear of making +objectionable acquaintances whom he might afterward be unable to shake +off, and partly from an inherent and ineradicable shyness, he went about +clad in a mantle of gloomy reserve, speaking to no one, looking at no +one--"grand, gloomy and peculiar." It was currently reported that previous +to our arrival he had never spoken to a creature in the boarding-house, +though he had been an inmate of it for six weeks. For the rest, he was +clever and intelligent, with frank, honest, boyish ways, which I liked, +even though they were sometimes rather exasperating. + +It was not quite pleasant, for instance, to hear him speak of Americans in +the frank and unconstrained manner which he adopted when talking to us. We +could hardly wonder at it when we looked at the promiscuous crowd which +formed his idea of American society. Refined and well-bred people there +certainly were, but these were precisely the ones who never forced +themselves upon his notice, leaving him to be struck and stunned by fast +and hoydenish young ladies, ungrammatical and ill-bred old ones, and men of +all shades of boorishness and swagger, such as make themselves conspicuous +in every crowd. Unluckily, both Königin and I have English blood in our +veins, and the Jook could not be convinced that we did not eagerly snatch +at the chance thus presented of claiming the title of British subjects. It +is quite hopeless to attempt to convince Englishmen that any American would +not be British if he could. Pride in American citizenship is an idea +utterly monstrous and inconceivable to them, and they can look on the +profession of it in no other light than that of a laudable attempt at +making the best of a bad case. Therefore, the Jook persisted in ignoring +our protestations of patriotic ardor, and in paying us the delicate +compliment of considering us English and expressing his views on America +with a beautiful frankness which kept us in a frame of mind verging on +delirium. + +What was to be done with such a man? Clearly, but one thing, and I sighed +for one of our American belles who should come and see and conquer this +impracticable Englishman. At present, things seemed quite hopeless. There +was no one within reach who would have the slightest chance of success in +such an undertaking. Though outsiders gave me the credit of his +subjugation, I knew quite well that there not only was not, but never could +be, the necessary tinge of sentimentality in our intercourse. We were much +too free and easy for that, and we laughed and talked, rambled and boated +together, "like two babes in the woods," as Königin was fond of remarking. + +It was in Florida that all this took place--in shabby, fascinating +Jacksonville, where one meets everybody and does nothing in particular +except lounge about and be happy. So the Jook and I lounged and were happy +with a placid, unexciting sort of happiness, until the day when Kitty Grey +descended upon us with the suddenness of a meteor, and very like one in her +bewildering brightness. + +Kitty was by no means pretty, but, though women recognized this fact, the +man who could be convinced of it remains yet to be discovered. You might +force them to confess that Kitty's nose was flat, her eyes not well shaped, +her teeth crooked, her mouth slightly awry, but it always came back to the +same point: "Curious that with all these defects she should still be so +exquisitely pretty!" + +Really, I did not so much wonder at it myself sometimes when I saw Kitty's +pale cheeks flush with that delicious pink, her wide hazel eyes deepen and +glow, her little face light up with elfish mirth, and her round, childish +figure poise itself in some coquettish attitude. Then she had such absurd +little hands, with short fingers and babyish dimples, such tiny feet, and +such a wealth of crinkled dark-brown hair--such bewitching little helpless +ways, too, a fashion of throwing herself appealingly on your compassion +which no man on earth could resist! At bottom she was a self-reliant, +independent little soul, but no mortal man ever found that out: Kitty was +far too wise. + +Of course, as soon as I saw Kitty I thought of the Jook. Would he or +wouldn't he? On the whole, I was rather afraid he wouldn't, for Kitty's +laugh sometimes rang out a little too loud, and Kitty's spirits sometimes +got the better of her and set her frisking like a kitten, and I was afraid +the modest sense of propriety which was one of the Jook's strong points +would not survive it. However, I concluded to risk it, but just here a +sudden and unforeseen obstacle checked my triumphant course. + +"Mr. Warriner," I said sweetly (I was always horribly afraid I should call +him Mr. Jook, but I never did), "I want to introduce you to my friend, Miss +Grey." + +The Jook looked at me with his most placid smile, and replied blandly, +"Thank you very much, but _I'd rather not_." + +Did any one ever hear of such a man? I understood his reasons well enough, +though he did not take the trouble to explain them: it was only +exclusiveness gone mad. And he prided himself upon his race and breeding, +and considered our American men boors! + +After that I nearly gave up his case as hopeless, and devoted myself to +Kitty, whom I really believe the Jook did not know by sight after having +been for nearly a week in the same house with her. + +Kitty once or twice mildly insinuated her desire to know him. "He has such +a nice face," she said plaintively, "and such lovely little curly brown +whiskers! He is the only man in the house worth looking at, but if I happen +to come up when he is talking to you, he instantly disappears. He must +think me _very_ ugly." + +It was really very embarrassing to me, for of course I could not tell her +that the Jook had declined the honor of an introduction. I knew, as well as +if she had told me so, that Kitty in her secret heart accused me of a mean +and selfish desire to keep him all to myself, but I was obliged meekly to +endure the obloquy, undeserved as it was. Königin used to go into fits of +laughter at my dilemma, and just at this period my admiration of the Jook +went down to the lowest ebb. "He is a selfish, conceited creature!" I +exclaimed in my wrath. "I really believe he thinks that bewitching little +Kitty would fall in love with him forthwith if he submitted to an +introduction. Oh, I _do_ wish he knew what we thought of him! _Why_ doesn't +he listen outside of ventilators?" + +"My dear," said Königin, still laughing, though sympathetic, "it strikes me +that we began by making rather a demi-god of the man, and are ending by +stripping him of even the good qualities which he probably does possess." + +Well! things went on in this exasperating way for a week or so longer. Of +course I washed my hands of the Jook, for I was too much exasperated to be +even civil to him. Kitty was as bright and good-natured as ever, ready to +enjoy all the little pleasures that came in her way, though now and then I +fancied that I detected a stealthy, wistful look at the Jook's impassive +face. + +It was lovely that day, but fearfully hot. The sun showered down its +burning rays upon the white Florida sands, the sky was one arch of +cloudless blue, and the water-oaks swung their moss-wreaths languidly over +the deserted streets. We had been dreaming and drowsing away the morning, +Königin, Kitty and I, in the jelly-fish-like state into which one naturally +falls in Florida. + +Suddenly Kitty sprang to her feet. "I can't stand this any longer," she +said: "I shall turn into an oyster if I vegetate here. Please, do you see +any shells sprouting on my back yet?" + +"What do you want to do?" I asked drowsily. "You can't walk in this heat, +and if you go on the river the sun will take the skin off your face, and +where are you then, Miss Kitty?" + +"I can't help that," retorted Kitty in a tone of desperation. "I don't +exactly know where I shall go, but I think in pursuit of some yellow +jessamine." + +I sat straight up and gazed at her: "Are you mad, Kitty? Has the heat +addled your brain already? You would have to walk at least a mile before +you could find any; and what's the good of it, after all? It would all be +withered before you could get home." + +"Can't help that," repeated Kitty: "I shall have had it, at all events. +Any way, I'm going, and you two can finish your dreams in peace." + +It was useless to argue with Kitty when she was in that mood, so I +contented myself with giving her directions for reaching the nearest copse +where she would be likely to find the fragrant beauty. + +Two hours later Königin sat at the window gazing down the long sandy +street. Suddenly her face changed, an expression of interest and surprise +came into her dreamy eyes: she put up her glass, and then broke into a +laugh. "Come and look at this," she exclaimed; and I came. + +What I saw was only Kitty and the Jook, but Kitty and the Jook walking side +by side in the most amicable manner--Kitty sparkling, bewitching, helpless, +appealing by turns or altogether as only she could be; the Jook watching +her with an expression of amusement and delight on his handsome face. And +both were laden with great wreaths and trails of yellow jessamine, golden +chalices of fragrance, drooping sprays of green glistening leaves, until +they looked like walking bowers. + +"How on earth--" I exclaimed, and could get no further: my feelings choked +me. + +Kitty came in radiant and smiling as the morning, bearing her treasures. Of +course we both pounced upon her: "Kitty, where did you meet the Jook? How +did it happen? What did you do?" + +"Cows!" said Kitty solemnly, with grave lips and twinkling eyes. + +"Cows? Cows in Florida? Kitty, _what_ do you mean?" + +"A cow ran at me, and I was frightened and ran at Mr. Warriner. He drove +the cow off. That's all. Then he walked home with me. Any harm in that?" + +"Now, Kitty, the idea! A Florida cow run at you? If you had said a pig, +there might be some sense in it, for the pigs here do have some life about +them; but a cow! Why, the creatures have not strength enough to stand up: +they are all starving by inches." + +"Can't help that," said Kitty. "Must have thought I was good to eat, then, +I suppose. I thought she was going to toss me, but I don't think it would +be much more agreeable to be eaten. Mr. Warriner is my preserver, anyhow, +and I shall treat him _'as sich_.'" + +Kitty looked so mischievous and so mutinous that there was evidently no use +in trying to get anything more out of her, and after standing there a few +minutes fingering her blossoms and smiling to herself, she danced off to +dress for tea. + +"Selfish little thing, not to offer us one of those lovely sprays!" I +exclaimed, but Königin laughed: "My dear, they are hallowed. Our touch +would profane them." + +Königin always saw further than I did, and I gasped: "Königin! you don't +think--" + +"Oh no, dear, not yet. Kitty is piqued, and wants to fascinate the Jook a +little--just a little as yet, but she may burn her fingers before she gets +through. Looks are contagious, and--did you see her face?" + +Such a brilliant little figure as slipped softly into the dining-room that +evening, all wreathed and twisted and garlanded about with the shining +green vines, gemmed with their golden stars. Head and throat and waist and +round white arms were all twined with them, and blossoming sprays and knots +of the delicately carved blossoms drooped or clung here and there amid her +floating hair and gauzy black drapery. How did the child ever make them +stick? How had she managed to decorate herself so elaborately in the short +time that had elapsed since her return? But Kitty had ways of doing things +unknown to duller mortals. + +Not a word had Kitty for me that evening, but for her father such clinging, +coaxing, wheedling ways, and for the Jook such coy, sparkling, +artfully-accidental glances, such shy turns of the little head, such dainty +capricious airs, that it was delicious to watch her. Königin and I sat in a +dark corner for the express purpose of admiring her delicate little +manuvres. As for her father, good stolid man! he was well used to Kitty's +freaks, and went on reading his newspaper in such a matter-of-fact way that +she might as well have wheedled the Pyramid of Cheops. The Jook, however, +was all that could be desired. The shyest of men--shy and proud as only an +Englishman can be--he could not make up his mind to walk directly up to +Kitty, as an American would do, as all the young Americans in the room +would have done if Kitty had let them. But Kitty, flighty little butterfly +as she seemed, had stores of tact and finesse in that little brain of hers, +and the power of developing a fine reserve which had already wilted more +than one of the young men of the house. For Kitty was none of your arrant +and promiscuous flirts who count "all fish that come to their net." She was +choice and dainty in her flirtations, but, possibly, none the less +dangerous for that. + +The Jook hovered about the room from chair to sofa, from sofa to +window-seat, finding himself at each remove one degree nearer to Kitty. + +"He is like a tame canary-bird," whispered Königin. "Let it alone and it +will come up to you after a while, but speak to it and you frighten it off +at once." + +And when at length he reached Kitty's side, how beautiful was the look of +slight surprise, not _too_ strongly marked, and the half-shy pleasure in +the eyes which she raised to him; and then the coy little gesture with +which she swept aside her draperies and made room for him. Half the power +of Kitty's witcheries lay in her frank, childish manner, just dashed with +womanly reserve. + +Well! the Jook was thoroughly in the vortex now: there was no doubt about +that. Kitty might laugh as loud as she pleased, and he only looked charmed. +Kitty might frisk like a will-o'-the wisp, and he only admired her innocent +vivacity. Even the bits of slang and the Americanisms which occasionally +slipped from her only struck him as original and piquant. How would it all +end? That neither Königin nor I could divine, for Kitty was not one to wear +her heart upon her sleeve. It was very little that we saw of Kitty in +these days, for she was always wandering off somewhere, boating on the +broad placid river or lounging about "Greenleaf's" or driving--always with +the Jook for cavalier, and, if the excursions were long, with her father to +play propriety. When she did come into our room, she was not our own Kitty, +with her childish airs and merry laughter. This was a brilliant and +volatile little woman of the world, who rattled on in the most amusing +manner about everything--except the Jook. About him her lips never opened, +and the most distant allusion to him on our part was sufficient to send her +fluttering off on some pressing and suddenly remembered errand. Yet this +reserve hardly seemed like the shyness of conscious but unacknowledged +love. On the contrary, we both fancied--Königin and I--that Kitty began to +look worried, and somehow, in watching her and the Jook, we began to be +conscious that a sort of constraint had crept into her manner toward him. +It could be no doubt of his feelings that caused it, for no woman could +desire a bolder or more ardent lover than he had developed into, infected, +no doubt, by the American atmosphere. Sometimes, too, we caught shy, +wistful glances at the Jook from Kitty's eyes, hastily averted with an +almost guilty look if he turned toward her. + +"What can it mean, Königin?" I said. "She looks as if she wanted to confess +some sin, and was afraid to." + +"Some childish peccadillo," said Königin. "In spite of all her +woman-of-the-world-ishness the child has a morbidly sensitive conscience, +and is troubled about some nonsense that nobody else would think of twice." + +"Can it be that she has only been flirting, and is frightened to find how +desperately in earnest he is?" + +"Possibly," replied Königin. "But I fancy that she is too well used to that +phase of affairs to let it worry her. Wait a while and we shall see." + +We couldn't make anything of it, but even the Jook became worried at last +by Kitty's queer behavior, and I suppose he thought he had better settle +the matter. For one evening, when I was keeping my room with a headache, I +was awakened from a light sleep by a sound of voices on the piazza outside +of my window. It was some time before I was sufficiently wide awake to +realize that the speakers were Kitty and the Jook, and when I did I was in +a dilemma. To let them know that I was there would be to overwhelm them +both with confusion and interrupt their conversation at a most interesting +point, for the Jook had evidently just made his declaration. It was +impossible for me to leave the room, for I was by no means in a costume to +make my appearance in the public halls. On the whole, I concluded that the +best thing I could do would be to keep still and never, by word or look, to +let either of them know of my most involuntary eavesdropping. + +Kitty was speaking when I heard them first, talking in a broken, hesitating +voice, which was very queer from our bright, fluent little Kitty: "Mr. +Warriner, you don't know what a humbug you make me feel when you talk of +'my innocence' and 'unconsciousness' and 'lack of vanity,' and all the rest +of it. I have been feeling more and more what a vain, deceitful, +hypocritical little wretch I am ever since I knew you. I have been +expecting you to find me out every day, and I almost hoped you would." + +"What _do_ you mean, Miss Grey?" asked the Jook in tones of utter +amazement, as well he might. + +"Oh dear! how shall I tell you?" sighed poor Kitty; and I could _feel_ her +blushes burning through her words. Then, with a sudden rush: "Can't you +see? I feel as if I had _stolen_ your love, for it was all gained under +false pretences. You never would have cared for me if you had known what a +miserable hypocrite I really was. Why, that very first day I wasn't afraid +of the cow--she didn't even look at me--but I saw you coming, +and--and--Helen wouldn't introduce you to me--and it just struck me it +would be a good chance, and so I rushed up to you and--Oh! what will you +think of me?" + +"Think?" said the Jook: "why, I think that while ninety-nine women out of +a hundred are hypocrites, not one in a thousand has the courage to atone +for it by an avowal like yours. Not that it was exactly hypocrisy, either." + +The poor blundering Jook! Always saying the most maddening things under the +firm conviction that it was the most delicate compliment. + +Kitty was too much in earnest to mind it now, though. "Do you know," she +went on, "that from the very first day I came into the house I was +determined to captivate you?--that every word and every look was directed +to that end? I have been nothing but an actress all through. I have done it +before, hundreds and hundreds of times, but I never felt the shame of it +until now--because--because--" + +"Because you never loved any one before? Is that it, Kitty?" said the Jook +tenderly. + +"Oh, I don't know," said Kitty desperately. "How can I tell? But it's all +Helen's fault. If she had introduced you to me in a rational way, I should +never have gone on so. But she wouldn't, and I was piqued--" + +"I must exonerate Miss Helen," interrupted the Jook. "She wanted to +introduce me, and I declined. I am sure I don't know why--English reserve, +I suppose. I had not seen you then, you know, and some of the people here +are such a queer lot that I rather dreaded new acquaintances." + +"Not Helen's fault?" wailed Kitty. "Oh, this is stolen--oh, poor Helen!" + +Naturally, the Jook was utterly bewildered, but as for me I sprang up into +a sitting posture, for the meaning of Kitty's behavior had just flashed +upon me. Absolutely, the poor little goose thought that in accepting the +Jook, as she was evidently dying to do, she would be robbing me of my +lover. And she never guessed at my own little romance, tucked away safely +in the most secret corner of my heart, which put any man save one quite out +of the question for me. If I had stopped to think, I suppose I should not +have done what I did, but in my surprise the words came out before I +thought: "Good gracious, Kitty my dear! do take the Jook if you want him! +_I_ don't." + +I could not help laughing when I realized what I had done. A little shriek +from Kitty and a _very_ British exclamation from the Jook, a slight scuffle +of chairs and a sense, rather than sound, of confusion, announced the +effect of my words. + +I waited for their reply, but dead silence prevailed, so I was obliged to +speak again. "You needn't be alarmed," I said, peering cautiously through +the chinks in the blinds, for I had approached the window by this time. "I +didn't mean to listen, but I couldn't get out of the way, and I never +intended to let you or any one else know that I had heard your +conversation. I'm awfully sorry that I have disturbed you, but, as I am in +for it now, I might as well go on." + +There I stopped, for I didn't exactly know what to say, and I hoped that +one of them would "give me a lead." I could just catch a glimpse of their +faces in the moonlight. The Jook was staring straight at the window-shutter +behind which I lurked, and the wrath and disgust expressed in his handsome +features set me off into a silent chuckle. I was sorry for Kitty, though. +Her face drooped as if it were weighed down by its own blushes, and the +long lashes quivered upon the hot cheeks. + +"Ah, really, Miss Helen," spoke the Jook at last, "this is a most +unexpected pleasure. Ah, really, you know, I mean--" + +It was not very lucid, but it was all I needed, and I replied suavely, "Oh +yes, I understand. You never asked me, and never had the faintest idea of +doing so. Otherwise, we should not have been such good friends. All I want +is to enforce the fact on Kitty's mind.--And now, Kitty, my dear, if you +are quite satisfied on this point, I will dress and go down stairs.--Don't +disturb yourselves, pray!" for both of them showed signs of moving. "You +can finish your conversation to much better advantage where you are, and +this little excitement has quite cured my headache." + +I wonder how in the world they ever took up the dropped stitches in that +conversation? They did it somehow, though, for when they reappeared Kitty +was the prettiest possible picture of shy, blushing, shamefaced happiness, +while the Jook was fairly beaming with pride and delight. It was a case of +true love at last: there was no doubt about that--such love as few would +have believed that a flighty little creature like Kitty was capable of +feeling. It was wonderful to see how quickly all her little wiles and +coquetries fell off under its influence, just as the rosy, fluttering +leaves of the spring fall off when the fruit pushes its way. I don't +believe it had ever struck her before that there was anything degrading in +this playing fast and loose with men's hearts which had been her favorite +pastime, or in beguiling them by feigning a passion of which she had never +felt one thrill. It was not until Love the magician had touched her heart +that the honest and loyal little Kitty that lay at the bottom of all her +whims and follies was developed. The very sense of unworthiness which she +felt in view of the Jook's straightforward and manly ardor was the surest +guarantee for the perfection of her cure. + +A truce to moralizing. Kitty does not need it, nor the Jook either. If he +is not proud of the bright little American bride he is to take back with +him to the "tight little isle" of our forefathers, why, appearances are +"deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked." + +HENRIETTA H. HOLDICH. + + + + +COMMUNISM IN THE UNITED STATES. + + +Nowhere in the history of the world have we any example of successful +communism. The ancient Cretan and Lacedemonian experiments, the efforts of +the Essenes and early Christians, the modified communities of St. Anthony +and several orders of monks, the schemes of the Anabaptists of the +sixteenth century, together with all the experiments of modern times, have +proved essential failures. Setting out with ideas of perfection in the +social state, and undertaking nothing less than the entire abolition of the +miseries of the world, the communists of all times have lived in a +condition the least ideal that can be imagined. The usual course of +socialistic communities has been to start out with a great flourish, to +quarrel and divide after a few months, and then to decrease and degenerate +until a final dispersion by general consent ended the attempt. During the +short existence of nearly all such communities the members have lived in +want of the ordinary comforts of life, in dispute about their respective +rights and duties, at law with retiring members, and battling with the +wilds and malarias of the countries in which alone anything like practical +communism has been usually possible. The most successful (so far as any of +these attempts can be called successful) have been those communities which +have been founded on a religion and which have consisted entirely of +members of one faith. But all political communism has utterly failed, and +the name is little more than a synonym for the most egregious blunders, +excesses and crimes of which visionary and unpractical people can be +guilty. + +The United States seem ill suited for the spread of communistic ideas, +notwithstanding they contain almost the only socialistic communities to be +found anywhere. Though the people are free to live in common if they +desire, and although land and every facility are offered on easy terms for +the realization of communism--which is not the case in Europe (and which +is, therefore, the reason why the New World is chosen for communistic +experiments)--yet there is felt no need of communism here. There are +neither the political nor the social inducements for it which exist in +Europe, and all efforts to excite an enthusiasm on the subject have +invariably failed. Almost the only agitators are foreigners, and nearly all +the existing communities are composed of foreigners. Of these, two only are +political, the Icarian and the Cedar Vale, while the rest are religious. + +The Icarian Community in Adams county, Iowa, about two miles from Corning, +a station on the Burlington and Missouri River Railroad, is the result of +an effort to realize the communistic theory of M. Cabet, a French writer +and politician of some note. It is perhaps the most just and practical of +all communistic systems; for the reader will remember that social systems +are as numerous in France as religious systems are in this country, and +take much the same place in the passions and bigotries of the people of +France, where there is but one religion, as our various sects do here, +where there are so many. The system of M. Cabet differs from the others in +much the same manner as our religious sects differ from one another; which +is not of much importance to the outside world, as they all contain the one +principle of a community of goods. M. Cabet first promulgated his system in +the shape of a romance entitled _A Voyage to Icaria_, in which he +represented the community at work under the most favorable circumstances +and in a high degree of prosperity. According to his system, all goods are +to be held in common, and all the people are to have an equal voice in the +disposal of them. Each is to contribute of labor and capital all that he +can for the common good, and to get all that he needs from the common fund. +"From each according to his ability--to each according to his wants," is +the formula of principles. The practical working of the community will +further illustrate the system. + +In 1848, M. Cabet, with some three thousand of his followers, sailed from +France for New Orleans, intending to take up land in Texas or Arkansas on +which to establish a community, having the promise that he would soon be +followed by ten thousand more of his disciples. After spending several +months in reconnoitring, during which half of his followers got +discontented and left him, he settled with about fifteen hundred at Nauvoo, +Illinois, where they bought out the property of the Mormons, who had +recently been driven from that place. There they commenced operations, +establishing a saw- and grist-mill, and carrying on farming and several +branches of domestic manufacturing. In a little while they sent out a +branch colony to Icaria, in Adams county, Iowa, where they purchased, or +entered under the Homestead Act, four thousand acres of land. In this place +likewise they built a mill and went to farming and carrying on the more +simple trades. In a little while, however, a quarrel arose in the principal +community at Nauvoo in regard to the use and abuse of power, when, after a +rage of passion not unlike that which they had exhibited in the Revolution +of 1848 in France, M. Cabet, with a large minority, seceded and went to St. +Louis, where they expected to form another and more perfect community. They +never formed this community, however, and were soon dispersed. The +community at Nauvoo, being now harassed with debts and with lawsuits +growing out of the withdrawal of M. Cabet and his party, repaired to their +branch colony at Icaria, where they have been ever since. Here they had +likewise frequent disputes and withdrawals, often giving rise to lawsuits +and a loss of property, until in 1866, when the writer first visited them, +they were reduced to thirty-five members. Since that time they have picked +up a few members, mostly old companions who had left them for individual +life, until now they have about sixty in all. They own at present about two +thousand acres of land, of which three hundred and fifty are under +cultivation. They have good stock, consisting of about one hundred and +twenty head of cattle, five hundred sheep, two hundred and fifty hogs and +thirty horses. They still have their saw- and grist-mill, now run by steam, +but give most of their time to farming. They preserve the family relation, +and observe the strictest rules of chastity. Each family lives in a +separate house, but they all eat at a common table. By an economic division +of labor one man cooks for all these persons, another bakes, another +attends to the dairy, another makes the shoes, another the clothes; and in +general one man manages some special work for the whole. No one has any +money or need of any. All purchases are made from the common purse, and +each gets what he needs. The government is a pure democracy. The officers +are chosen once a year by universal (male) suffrage, and consist of a +president, secretary (and treasurer), director of agriculture and director +of industry. They have no religion, but, like most of the European +communists, are free-thinkers. They are highly moral, however, and much +esteemed by their neighbors. Some of them are quite learned, and all of +them may be pronounced decidedly heroic for the terrible privations they +have undergone in order to realize their political principles, to which +they are as strongly and sincerely devoted as any Christian to his +religion. + +Such is a sketch of the most perfect system and most successful experiment +of political communism in the United States--not very encouraging, it will +be confessed. The other example of political communism is the Cedar Vale +Community in Howard county, Kansas, which needs only to be mentioned here, +as it has as yet no history. It was commenced in 1871, and is composed of +Russian materialists and American spiritualists. They have a community of +goods like the Icarians, and in general their principles are the same. They +had only about a dozen members at last accounts. Another and similar +community was established in 1874 in Chesterfield county, Virginia, called +the "Social Freedom Community," its principles being enunciated as a "unity +of interest and political, religious and social freedom;" but we cannot +discover whether it is yet in existence, as at last accounts it had only +two full members and eight probationers. It will be seen from these +examples that the prospects of political communism are far from promising. +Its principal power has always been as a sentiment, and it can be dreaded +only as an appeal to the destitute and lawless to rise in acts of violence. +It has been powerful in France in revolutions, riots and mobs, and in this +country in aiding the late strikers in their work of destruction. + +The other existing communities are founded on some religious basis, being +efforts on the part of their founders to secure their religious rights or +to live with those of the same faith in closer relations. And although +their measures have been similar in many respects to those of the political +communists, they have resorted to them not on account of any political +principles, but because they believed them to be commanded by Scripture or +to grow out of some peculiarity of religious faith or duty. Most of them +have been formed after the model of the society of the apostles, who had +their goods in common, and because of their example. None, so far as we +know, have ever proposed to establish communities by force or to have the +whole people embraced in them. Held together by their peculiar religious +principles, they have been far more successful (especially when under some +shrewd leader whom they believed to have a spiritual authority) than when +actuated purely by reason. + +Perhaps the most successful of these religious communities is that of the +"True Inspirationists," known as the Amana Community, in Iowa, +seventy-eight miles west of Iowa City, on the Chicago, Rock Island and +Pacific Railroad. These are all Germans, who came to this country in 1842, +and settled at first near Buffalo, New York, on a tract of land called +Ebenezer, from which they are sometimes known as "Ebenezers." This tract +comprised five thousand acres of land, including what is now a part of the +city of Buffalo. In 1855 they moved to their present locality in Iowa. They +pretend to be under direct inspiration, receiving from God the model and +general orders for the direction of their community. The present head, +both spiritual and temporal, is a woman, a sort of sibyl who negotiates the +inspirations. Their business affairs are managed by thirteen trustees, +chosen annually by the male members, who also choose the president. They +are very religious, though having but little outward form. There are +fourteen hundred and fifty members, who live in seven different towns or +villages, which are all known by the name of Amana--East Amana, West Amana, +etc. They have their property for the most part in common. Each family has +a house, to which food is daily distributed. The work is done by a prudent +division of labor, as in the Icarian community. But instead of providing +clothing and incidentals, the community makes to each person an allowance +for this purpose--to the men of from forty to one hundred dollars a year, +to the women from twenty-five to thirty dollars, and to the children from +five to ten dollars. There are public stores in the community at which the +members can get all they need besides food, and at which also strangers can +deal. They dress very plainly, use simple food, and are quite industrious. +They aim to keep the men and women apart as much as possible. They sit +apart at the tables and in church, and when divine service is dismissed the +men remain in their ranks until the women get out of church and nearly +home. In their games and amusements they keep apart, as well as in all +combinations whether for business or pleasure. The boys play with boys and +the girls with girls. They marry at twenty-four. They own at present +twenty-five thousand acres of land, a considerable part of which is under +cultivation. They have, in round numbers, three thousand sheep, fifteen +hundred head of cattle, two hundred horses and twenty-five hundred hogs. +Besides farming, they carry on two woollen-mills, four saw-mills, two +grist-mills and a tannery. They are almost entirely self-supporting in the +arts, working up their own products and living off the result. In medicine +they are homopathists. + +The "Rappists" or Harmony Society at Economy, Pennsylvania, is composed of +about one hundred members, being all that remain of a colony of six hundred +who came from Germany in 1803. They were called Separatists or +"Come-outers" in their own country, and much persecuted on account of their +nonconformity with the established Church. They landed in Baltimore, and +some of them who never found their way into the community, or who +subsequently withdrew, settled in Maryland and Pennsylvania, where they are +still known as a religious sect. Those who remained together purchased five +thousand acres of land north of Pittsburg, in the valley of the +Conoquenessing. In 1814 they moved to Posey county, Indiana, in the Wabash +Valley, where they purchased thirty thousand acres of land, and in 1824 +they moved back again to their present locality in Pennsylvania. In 1831 a +dissension arose among them, and a division was effected by one Bernard +Mueller--or "Count Maximilian" as he called himself--who went off with +one-third of the members and a large share of the property, and founded a +new community at Phillips, ten miles off, on eight hundred acres of land, +which, however, soon disbanded on account of internal quarrels. + +The peculiarity of this community is that there is no intercourse between +the sexes of any kind. In 1807 they gave up marriage. The husbands parted +from their wives, and have henceforth lived with them only as sisters. They +claim to have authority for this in the words of the apostle: "This I say, +brethren, the time is short; it remaineth that both they that have wives be +as though they had none," etc. They teach that Adam in his perfect state +was bi-sexual and had no need of a female, being in this respect like God; +that subsequently, when he fell, the female part (rib, etc.) was separated +from him and made into another person, and that when they become perfect +through their religion the bi-sexual nature of the soul is restored. +Christ, they claim, was also of this dual nature, and therefore never +married. They believe that the world will soon come to an end, and that it +is their duty to help it along by having no children, and so putting an end +to the race as well as the planet. + +Their property is all held in common and managed by a council of seven, +from whom the trustees are chosen. From four to eight live in each house, +men and women together, who regard each other as of the same sex, and are +never watched. Each household cooks for itself, although there is a general +bakery, from which bread is taken around to the houses as they have need. +The members are fond of music and flowers, but they discard dancing. Though +Germans, they have ceased to use tobacco; which loss, it is said, the men +feel more heavily than that of the wives. They make considerable wine and +beer, which they drink in moderation. They are said to be worth from two +millions to three millions of dollars, and speculate in mines, oil-wells, +saw-mills, etc., doing very little hard work, and hiring laborers from +without to take their places in all drudgery. They are engaged principally +in farming and the common trades, and supply nearly everything for +themselves. They are nearly all aged, none of them being under forty except +some adopted children. All are Germans and use the German language. + +The Shakers are the oldest society of communists in the United States. The +parent society at Mount Lebanon, New York, was established in 1792, being +the outgrowth of a religious revival in which there were violent hysterical +manifestations or "shakes," from which they took their name. In this +revival one Ann Lee, known among them as "Mother Ann," was prominent. This +woman, of English birth, emigrated to Niskayuna, New York, about seven +miles north-west of Albany, where she pretended to speak from inspiration +and work miracles, so that the people soon came to regard her as being +another revelation of Christ and as having his authority. Being persecuted +by the outside world, her followers, after her death, formed a community in +which to live and enjoy their religion alone and: undisturbed. Their +principles may be summed up as special revelation, spiritualism, celibacy, +oral confession, community, non-resistance, peace, the gift of healing, +miracles, physical health and separation from the world. Like the Rappists, +they neither marry nor have any substitute for marriage, receiving all +their children by adoption. They live in large families or communes, +consisting of eighty or ninety members, in one big house, men and women +together. Each brother is assigned to a sister, who mends his clothes, +looks after his washing, tells him when he needs a new garment, reproves +him when not orderly, and has a spiritual oversight over him generally. +Though living in the same house, the sexes eat, labor and work apart. They +keep apart and in separate ranks in their worship. They do not shake hands +with the opposite sex, and there is rarely any scandal or gossip among +them, so far as the outside world can learn. There are two orders, known as +the Novitiate and the Church order, the latter having intercourse only with +their own members in a sort of monkish seclusion, while the others treat +with the outside world. The head of a Shaker society is a "ministry," +consisting of from three to four persons, male and female. The society is +divided into families, as stated above, each family having two elders, one +male and one female. In their worship they are drawn up in ranks and go +through various gyrations, consisting of processions and dances, during +which they continually hold out their hands as if to receive something. The +Shakers are industrious, hard-working, economical and cleanly. They dress +uniformly. Their houses are all alike. They say "yea" and "nay," although +not "thee" and "thou," and call persons by their first names. They confine +themselves chiefly to the useful, and use no ornaments. There are at +present eighteen societies of Shakers in the United States, scattered +throughout seven States. They number in all two thousand four hundred and +fifteen persons, and own one hundred thousand acres of land. Their +industries are similar to those of the Rappists and True Inspirationists, +and are somewhat famed for the excellence of their products. The Shakers +are nearly all Americans, like the Oneidans, next mentioned, and unlike all +other communistic societies in the United States. + +The Perfectionists of Oneida and Wallingford are perhaps the most singular +of all communists. They were founded by John Humphrey Noyes, who organized +a community at Putney, Vermont, in 1846. In 1848 this was consolidated with +others at Oneida in Madison county, New York. In 1849 a branch community +was started at Brooklyn, New York, and in 1850 one at Wallingford, +Connecticut, all of which have since broken up or been merged in the two +communities of Oneida and Wallingford. Their principles are perfectionism, +communism and free love. By "perfection" they mean freedom from sin, which +they all claim to have, or to seek as practically attainable. They claim, +in explaining their sense of this term, that as a man who does not drink is +free from intemperance, and one who does not swear is free from profanity, +so one who does not sin at all is free from sin, or morally perfect. Their +communism is like that of the Icarians, so far as property is concerned, +this being owned equally by all for the benefit of all as they severally +have need; which state they claim is the state of man after the +resurrection. But they have a community not only of goods, but also of +wives; or, rather, they have no wives at all, but all women belong to all +men, and all men to all women; which they assert to be the state of Nature, +and therefore the most perfect state. They call it complex marriage instead +of simple, and it is both polygamy and polyandry at the same time. They are +enemies of all exclusiveness or selfishness, and hold that there should be +no exclusiveness in money or in women or children. Their idea is to be in +the most literal sense no respecters of persons. All women and children are +the same to all men, and _vice versā_. A man never knows his own children, +and the mothers, instead of raising their children themselves, give them +over to a common nursery, somewhat after the suggestion of Plato in his +_Republic_. If any two persons are suspected of forming special +attachments, and so of violating the principle of equal and universal love, +or of using their sexual freedom too liberally, they are put under +discipline. They are very religious, their religion, however, consisting +only in keeping free from sin. They have no sermons, ceremonies, sacraments +or religious manifestations whatever. There are no public prayers, and no +loud prayers at all. Their method of discipline is called "criticism," and +consists in bringing the offender into the presence of a committee of men +and women, who each pass their criticisms on him and allow him to confess +or criticise himself. The least sign of worldliness or evidence of +impropriety is enough to subject one to this ordeal. They are very careful +about whom they admit to their community, as there are numerous rakes and +idlers who make application on the supposition that it is a harem or +Turkish paradise. None are admitted who are not imbued with their doctrine +of perfection, and who do not show evidences of it in their lives. In a +business point of view, they are comparatively successful, the original +members having contributed over one hundred thousand dollars' worth of +property, which has not depreciated. They engage in farming, wine-raising +and various industries, and are known in the general markets for their +products. + +The Separatists at Zoar, Ohio, about halfway between Cleveland and +Pittsburg, are a body of Germans who fled from Würtemberg in 1817 to escape +religious persecution. They are mystics, followers of Jacob Böhm, Gerhard, +Terstegen, Jung Stilling and others of that class, and considerably above +the average of communists in intellect and culture. They were aided to +emigrate to this country by some English Quakers, with whom there is a +resemblance in some of their tenets. They purchased fifty-six hundred acres +of land in Ohio, but did not at first intend to form a community, having +been driven to that resort subsequently in order to the better realization +of their religious principles. They now own over seven thousand acres of +land in Ohio, besides some in Iowa. They have a woollen-factory, two +flour-mills, a saw-mill, a planing-mill, a machine-shop, a tannery and a +dye-house; also a hotel and store for the accommodation of their neighbors. +They are industrious, simple in their dress and food, and very economical. +They use neither tobacco nor pork, and are homopathists in medicine. In +religion they are orthodox, with the usual latitude of mystics. They have +no ceremonies, say "thou" and "thee," take off their hats and bow to nobody +except God, refuse to fight or go to law, and settle their disputes by +arbitration. At first they prohibited marriage and had their women in +common, like the Perfectionists. In 1828, however, they commenced to break +their rules and take wives. Now they observe the marriage state. Their +officers are elected by the whole society, the women voting as well as the +men. + +The Bethel and Aurora communities--the former in Shelby county, Missouri, +forty-eight miles from Hannibal, and the latter in Oregon, twenty-nine +miles south of Portland, on the Oregon and California Railroad--were +founded in 1848 by Dr. Kiel, a Prussian mystic, who practised medicine a +while in New York and Pittsburg, and subsequently formed a religious sect +of which these communists are members. He was subsequently joined by some +of "Count Maximilian's" people, who had left Rapp's colony at Economy, +which this closely resembles except as to celibacy. He first founded the +colony in Missouri, where he took up two thousand five hundred and sixty +acres of land, and established the usual trades needed by farmers. In 1847 +there were the inevitable quarrel and division. In 1855 he set out to +establish a similar community on the Pacific coast. The first settlement +was made at Shoalwater Bay, Washington Territory, which was, however, +subsequently abandoned for the present one at Aurora. There are now about +four hundred members at Aurora, who own eighteen thousand acres of land, +and have the usual shops and occupations of communists mentioned above, +carrying on a considerable trade with their neighbors. The members of both +communities are all either Germans or Pennsylvania Dutch, and thrive by the +industry and economy peculiar to those people. Their government is +parental, intended to be like God's. Kiel is the temporal and spiritual +head. Their religion consists in practical benevolence, the forms of +worship being Lutheran. They are thought to be exceedingly wealthy, but if +their property were divided among them there would be less than three +thousand dollars to each family, which, though more than the property of +most other communities would average, is but small savings for twenty +years. They preserve the usual family relations. + +The Bishop Hill Community, in Henry county, Illinois, was formed by a party +of Swedes who came to this country in 1846 under Eric Janson, who had been +their religious leader in the Old World, where they were greatly persecuted +on account of their peculiar religious views. They suffered great hardships +in effecting a first settlement, some of them going off, in the interest of +the community, to dig gold in California, and others taking to +stock-raising and speculating. In this they were quite successful, so that +jobs and speculations became the peculiar work of this community. They took +various public and private contracts; among others, one to grade a large +portion of the Chicago, Burlington and Quincy Railroad and to build some of +its bridges. In 1859 they owned ten thousand acres of good land, and had +the finest cattle in the State. In 1859, however, the young people became +discontented and wished to dissolve the community. They divided the +property in 1860, when one faction continued the community with its share. +In 1861 this party also broke up, separating into three divisions. In 1862 +these again divided the property after numerous lawsuits. A small fraction, +I believe, still continues a community on the ruins. In this community the +families lived separately, but ate all together. They had no president or +single head, the business being transacted by a board of trustees. Their +religion was their principal concern. + +Such are the strictly communistic societies in the United States. It will +be seen that they are each of such very peculiar views that they are +specially fitted by their very oddity for a life in common, and specially +disqualified from the same cause to extend or embrace others; for while +their community of oddity makes them, by a necessarily strong sympathy, fit +associates to be together, it separates them by an impassable gulf from the +appreciation and sympathy of the rest of mankind, who are interested only +in the ordinary common-sense concerns of life. + +Besides these, there are several other colonies which, though not +communistic, have grown out of an attempt to solve some of the questions +raised by socialism. They are for the most part co-operative. The following +are the principal: The Anaheim colony in California, thirty-six miles from +Los Angelos, which was formed by a large number of Germans in 1857, who +banded together and purchased a large tract of land, on which they +successfully cultivate the vine in large quantities. The property is held +and worked all together, but the interests are separate, and will be +divided in due time. Vineland, New Jersey, on the railroad between +Philadelphia and Cape May, is another. It was purchased and laid out by +Charles K. Landis in 1861 as a private speculation, and to draw the +overcrowded population of Philadelphia into the country, where the people +could all have comfortable homes and support themselves by their own labor. +Some fifty thousand acres of land were purchased, and sold at a low rate +and on long time to actual settlers and improvers. As a result, some twelve +thousand people have been drawn thither, who cultivate all this tract and +work numerous industries besides. No liquors are allowed to be sold in the +place, so that the population is exceptionally moral as well as +industrious, and offers a model example of low rates and good government. A +successful colony exists also at Prairie Home in Franklin county, Kansas, +which was founded by a Frenchman, Monsieur E.V. Boissičre. It is designed +to be an association and co-operation based on attractive industry; a large +number of persons contributing their capital and labor under stringent +laws, the proceeds to be divided among them whenever a majority shall so +desire. I might mention other associations of this kind, which are, in +fact, however, only a variety of partnership or corporation. + +It strikes me, however, that this is the only practical remedy for the +evils which are aimed at by the communists, as far as they are remedial by +social means. If a number of working people, with the capital which their +small savings will amount to (which is always large enough for any ordinary +business if there be any considerable number of them), can be induced to +organize themselves under competent leaders, and work for a few years +together as faithfully as they ordinarily do for employers, they might +realize considerable results, and get the advantage of their own work +instead of enriching capitalists. But the difficulty is, that this class +have not, as a rule, learned either to manage great enterprises or to +submit to those who are wisest among them, but break up in disorder and +divisions when their individual preferences are crossed. The first lesson +that a man must learn who proposes to do anything in common with others +(and the more so if there be many of them) is to submit and forbear. With a +little schooling our people ought, to a greater extent than at present, to +be able to co-operate in large numbers in firms and corporations where the +members and stockholders shall themselves do all the work and receive all +the profits, and so avoid the two extremes of making profits for +capitalists and paying their earnings to officers and directors. + +AUSTIN BIERBOWER. + + + + +OUR MONTHLY GOSSIP. + + +NOTES FROM MOSCOW. + +JUNE 1 (May 20, Russian style), 1877. + +This diversity in the matter of dates is unpleasantly perplexing at times. +With every sensation of interest and pleasure I set myself about the task +of describing, I must at once begin to reckon. Twelve days' difference! +Yes, I have already grasped that fact, but then in which direction must the +deduction begin?--backward or forward? Such is the question that instantly +arises, and if we are at the fag end of one month and the beginning of +another, the amount of reckoning involved seems somewhat inadequate to the +occasion. The Russian clergy, it is said--those, at any rate, of the lowest +class, designated as "white priests," many of them peasants by birth and +marvellously illiterate--have ever been averse to any change being made in +the calendar, in order that their seasons of fasting and feasting may not +be disturbed. + +_Apropos_ of priests and priesthood. Whilst quietly at work yesterday +morning my attention was suddenly called off, first by a hurried +exclamation, and then the inharmonious--ah, how utterly +discordant!--ding-donging of church-bells. "Listen!" fell upon my ear: "one +of the secular priests belonging to St. Gregory's church died two days ago, +and is to be buried this morning. They are still saying masses over his +body, the church is packed, and it is a sight such as you may possibly not +have an opportunity of again witnessing." In half an hour we were within +the church-walls. The place was already thronged, and the air close almost +to suffocation. Never can one forget that peculiar heat, the sort of +indescribable vapor, that arose, and the perspiration that streamed down +the faces of all present, each of whom, from the oldest to the youngest, +carried a lighted candle. After many vigorous efforts, and occasional +collisions with the flaring tapers, the wax or tallow dropping at intervals +upon our cloaks, we found ourselves at last in the centre of the edifice, +immediately behind a dozen or more officiating priests clad in magnificent +robes, before whom lay their late confrčre reposing in his coffin, and +dressed, according to custom, in his ecclesiastical robes. Tall lighted +candles draped with crape surrounded him, and the solemn chant had been +going on around him ever since life had become extinct. The dead in Russia +are never left alone or in the dark. Relays of singing priests take the +places of those who are weary, and friends keep watch in an adjoining room. +The Russian temperament inclines to the strongest manifestation of the +inmost feelings, and the method here of mourning for the dead is +exceptionally demonstrative. The corpse of the old priest lay surrounded by +what was of bright colors or purest white, the coffin being of the +last-mentioned hue. Black was utterly proscribed. The face and hands were +half buried in a lacy texture, whilst on the brow was placed a label, +"fillet-fashion," on which was written "The Thrice Holy," or +_Trisagion_--"O Holy God! O Holy Mighty! O Holy Immortal! have mercy upon +us!" + +Chant after chant ascended for the repose of his soul. The deacon's deep +bass voice rose ever and anon in leading fashion, the other voices +following suit. There was of course no instrumental music. This Russian +singing is curiously unique--of a character wholly different from any heard +elsewhere. It is weird in the extreme, and, if the expression be +permissible, gypsy-like. The deacons' voices are of wonderful capability, +the popular belief being that they are specially chosen on account of this +peculiar power. At last there came a pause. Not only the priests' and +deacons' voices, but those of the chanting men and boys--alike unsurpliced +and uncassocked, lacking, therefore, much of the attraction offered by a +service in the Western Catholic Church--had all at once ceased to be +heard. All were now pressing forward to kiss the dead priest--his +fellow-priests first, and then, duly in order, all his relations and +friends. "The last kiss" it is termed--a practice, it would seem, derived +from the heathen custom, of which we find such frequent mention. None, if +possible, omit the performance of this duty, all seeking to obtain the +blessing or benefit, supposed to be thereby conferred. Some, however, are +obliged to content themselves with merely kissing the corners of the +coffin. + +Many of the numerous _stichera_, as they are termed--poetically-worded +prose effusions--made use of in the course of the service are curiously +quaint. I quote two or three, of which I have since procured a translation: +"Come, my brethren, let us give our last kiss, our last farewell, to our +deceased brother. He hath now forsaken his kindred and approacheth the +grave, no longer mindful of vanity or the cares of the world. Where are now +his kindred and friends? Behold, we are now separated! Approach! embrace +him who lately was one of yourselves."--"Where now is the graceful form? +Where is youth? Where is the brightness of the eye? where the beauty of the +complexion? Closed are the eyes, the feet bound, the hands at rest: extinct +is the sense of hearing, and the tongue locked up in silence." + +The words succeeding these are supposed to emanate from the lips of the +dead, lying mute before the eyes of all present: "Brethren, friends, +kinsmen and acquaintance, view me here lying speechless, breathless, and +lament. But yesterday we conversed together. Come near, all who are bound +to me by affection, and with a last embrace pronounce the last farewell. No +longer shall I sojourn among you, no longer bear part in your discourse. +Pray earnestly that I be received into the Light of life." + +The absolution having been pronounced by the priest, a paper is placed in +the dead man's hand--"The Prayer, Hope and Confession of a faithful +Christian soul." This is accompanied by another prayer containing the +written words of absolution. This custom has given rise to the belief in +the minds of many foreigners that such missives are presented in the light +of passports to a better world; but the idea seems to be as erroneous as it +is absurd. Moreover, I believe that, strictly speaking, the custom is one +of national origin, and that the Church has had nothing to do with its +adoption. + +All the lighted tapers having been taken away by one of the attendants, the +coffin with its gilded ornaments was removed slowly from its resting-place, +and placed upon an enormous open bier or hearse, extensively mounted and +heavily ornamented with white watered silk, purple and gilt draperies, a +gilt crown surmounting all. The base of the ponderous vehicle was alone +permitted to boast a fringe of deep black cloth--as if, however, for the +sole purpose of hiding the wheels. The six horses, three abreast, were also +enveloped in black cloth drapery touching the ground on either side. Right +and left of the coffin itself, and mounted therefore considerably aloft, +stood two yellow _stoicharioned_ (or robed) deacons, wearing the +_epimanikia_ and _orarion_--the former being a portion of the priestly +dress used for covering the arms, and signifying the thongs with which the +hands of Christ were bound; the latter a stole worn over the left shoulder. +The head of each deacon was adorned with long waving hair, and each carried +a censer in his hand. They faced each other, keeping watch together over +the dead. A procession of priests, duly robed, began to move, preceded by +censer-bearers and singing men and boys. + +The point whence the procession started--Mala Greuzin, situated at the +extreme east end of Moscow--lay several miles away from the cemetery for +which they were all _en route;_ and this veritably ancient Asiatic city had +to be traversed at an angle in this solemn fashion, seventy or eighty +carriages following. From the beginning to the end of the prescribed route +Muscovites lined the road on either side, and it is fair to add that I +never beheld more respect shown even to royalty itself. All was quietness, +the general expression of sympathy and respect being permitted to find vent +only in excessive gesticulation and genuflection. Not a head remained +covered, not a single person by whom the procession passed permitted it to +do so without crossing himself several times from forehead to chest and +from shoulder to shoulder. + +At the first church which the procession reached, the bells of which had +begun to toll--clash rather--long before it came in sight, the entire party +halted. A bell was rung by one of those in advance, and then all waited. +The priests and their various acolytes clustered reverently by the hearse, +the followers and spectators standing at a respectful distance, but +nevertheless taking part in the service. After first incensing the hearse, +themselves and all around, further prayers were said and chanted: then a +signal was given and all moved on again, only, however, to again pause on +the route, for at every church we passed--and we must have encountered at +least thirty or forty, if not more, seeing that such sacred edifices rise +upon one's view in Moscow at wellnigh every three or four minutes' +space--the ceremony was repeated. No sooner had one set of bells ceased to +sound in our ears than another took its place, and again all halted, and +then again all marched onward. Every window as the cortége passed along was +thrown open, and figures bent forward ever and anon, enacting their wonted +part in the pageant. And the pageant, be it remembered, was, after all, +only one of frequent occurrence. + +Only the week before I had had the privilege of watching this identical old +priest baptize the child of one of the most ancient nobles here, the +ceremony being performed not in a church, but at the nobleman's house. One +godfather and one godmother are all that are required, the latter of whom +holds the infant. On the godmother also a large share of duty devolves, +there being certain gifts which she is bound by national custom to offer +for acceptance on the occasion. Often, therefore, the duty of selecting a +female sponsor becomes a somewhat invidious one. A handsome dress to the +mother, no matter in what rank of life; a delicate lace cap to the main +object of the occasion; a lace chemise for the same highly-honored small +individual; and an elaborate silk pocket handkerchief to the officiating +priest,--these, when of the best quality, and they are invariably so, mount +up somewhat as regards price, seeing that everything is marvellously dear +here in the matter of dress. The godfather, standing immediately in front +of the large font brought specially for the purpose from the adjacent +church, and at the right hand of his fellow-sponsor, simply presents a +small golden cross, to be worn, it is supposed, ever afterward. Immediately +behind the font, and facing the entire audience--for a large circle of +friends had been invited to witness the ceremony--was placed the "holy +picture" of the household, without which in Russia no homestead, whether +belonging to rich or poor, is considered complete, and before which a +lighted oil lamp ever stands burning--a "picture of God," as the Russian +children are taught from their earliest years to call it. Before this the +priests bowed on entering. + +The mode of baptism was immersion, after several exorcisms had been read +and the priest had thrice blown in the infant's face, signing him, also +thrice, on the forehead and breast. Three tall lighted candles were affixed +to the font, and others were held by the god-parents, except when they +marched round the font in procession three times during "the chrism," when +the candles were laid down. The chrism consists in anointing the infant's +forehead, breast, shoulders and middle of the back with holy oil, after +which comes the service, when the forehead, eyes, nostrils, mouth, ears, +breast, hands and feet are again anointed, but this time with the holy +unction prepared once a year, on Monday in Holy Week, within the walls of +the Kremlin, and consecrated by the metropolitan in the cathedral of the +Annunciation on Holy Thursday. Then comes the concluding act, when the +priest cuts off a small portion of the child's hair in four different +places on the crown of the head, encloses it in a morsel of wax and throws +it into the font, as a sort of first-fruits of that which has been +consecrated. + +S.E. + + +A DAY AT THE PARIS CONSERVATOIRE. + +It was ten o'clock in the morning when we drove up to the door of the +world-famous institution, but, early as it was, an animated throng already +filled the wide marble-paved entrance-hall--former pupils in elegant +attire; girl aspirants for future honors, accompanied by the inevitable +mamma with the invariable little hand-bag; young men and old; celebrated +dramatists and well-known actors, visitors, critics, etc.--all passing to +and fro or engaged in conversation while awaiting the hour for taking their +seats. Passing through these, we ascend a narrow staircase that gives one +good hopes of a martyr's death should the theatre chance to catch fire, and +we instal ourselves in a narrow and by no means comfortable box in the +dress-circle. The theatre of the Conservatoire, though not very large, is +very elegantly and artistically decorated in the Pompeian style, the stage +being set with a single "box scene," as it is technically called, which is +never changed, as plays are never acted there. Here take place the +far-famed concerts du Conservatoire, for which tickets are as hard to +obtain as are invitations to the entertainments of a duchess, all the seats +being owned by private individuals. But what we are now here to witness is +the competition in dramatic declamation, tragic and comic. The jury occupy +a box in the centre of the dress-circle and opposite to the stage. This +terrifying tribunal is enough to try the nerves of the stoutest aspirant +for dramatic honors, comprising as it does among its members such powers in +the land as Legouvé, Camilla-Doucet, Alexandre Dumas, the directors of the +Comédie Franēaise and the Odéon, and the great actors Got and Delaunay. An +elderly gentleman comes forward on the stage and reads from a printed paper +the name of each competitor and those of his or her assistants, and that of +the play from which the scene that is to be represented is chosen. Each +pupil selects a scene, and the persons who in French technical parlance are +to "give the reply" (_i.e._ to take the other characters in the scene) are +chosen from among the ranks of the pupil's fellow-competitors. Lots are +drawn to decide the place that each one is to occupy on the programme, the +first place and the last being considered the least desirable. Printed +bills are distributed among the audience giving a list of the competitors, +with the names of the plays from which they have chosen scenes, and +(horrible innovation for the lady pupils!) the age of each one as well. + +The competition is opened by M. Levanz, a young man of thirty, who took a +second prize last year, and who has chosen the closet-scene from _Hamlet_ +(the translation of the elder Dumas) as his _cheval de bataille_. He has a +marked Germanic countenance, decidedly the reverse of handsome, yet mobile +and expressive: his voice is good, his figure tall and manly. He has +evidently seen Rossi in Hamlet, and models his conception of the character +on that grand impersonation. Next comes M. Bregaint in a scene from +_Andromaque:_ he is so bad, so _very_ bad, that the audience are moved to +sudden outbursts of hilarity by his grand tragic points. He is succeeded by +a boy of sixteen, tall and graceful, with a fine tragic face of the heroic +Kemble mould, and great blue-gray eyes that dilate or contract beneath the +impulses of the moment--a born actor from head to foot. He fairly thrills +the audience in the great scene of the duke de Nemours from _Louis XI_. +This youth, M. Guitry, is undoubtedly, if his life be spared, the coming +tragedian of the French stage. Then we have the first one of the lady +competitors, Mademoiselle Edet, a tall, awkward girl of eighteen, with a +flat face and Chinese-like features, dressed up in a gown of cream-yellow +foulard trimmed with wide fringe and made with a loose jacket, whereon the +fringes wave wildly in the air as she flings her arms around in the tragic +love-making of Phčdre. Two or three others of moderate merit succeed, and +then comes Mademoiselle Jullien, who gives the great scene of Roxane in +_Bajazet_ with so much intelligence of intonation and grace of gesture that +the audience are moved to sudden applause. She is rather too short and of +too delicate a physique for tragedy, but her face is expressive, her eyes +fine, and there are intellect and talent in every tone and movement. She is +nearly twenty-nine years of age, so has not much time to waste if she is to +make her mark in her profession. Last on the list of tragic aspirants comes +a gentleman of thirty-one, M. Aubert, who goes through a scene from +_Hamlet_ in a very tolerable manner. He was in the army, was doing well and +was rising in grade when, seized by the theatrical mania, he relinquished +his profession and turned his attention to the stage. Thus far, he has +proved, practically speaking, a failure: he has won no prizes, and no +manager will engage him. This is his last chance, as his age will prevent +him, by the rules of the Conservatoire, from taking part in any future +competition. + +The tragedy concours ended, a recess of an hour is proclaimed, and there is +a rush to the refreshment-tables and a great consumption of sandwiches and +cakes, of coffee and water (known as "mazagran") and of _vin ordinaire_. +Under that vestibule pass and repass the literary luminaries of modern +France. Here is Henri de Bornier, the author of _La Fille de Roland_, a +quiet, earnest-looking gentleman, with clear luminous eyes and the smallest +hands imaginable. Here comes Francisque Sarcey, the greatest dramatic +critic of France and one of the most noted of her Republican journalists, +broad-shouldered, black-eyed and stalwart-looking. Yonder stand a group of +Academicians--Legouvé, Doucet, Dumas--in earnest conversation with Édouard +Thierry, the librarian of the Arsénal. The handsome, delicate, +aristocratic-looking gentleman who joins the group is M. Perrin, the +director of the Comédie Franēaise, the most accomplished and intelligent +theatrical manager in France. There is an elderly, reserved-looking +gentleman beside him who looks like a solemn _savant_ out on a holiday. It +takes more than one glance for us to recognize in him the most accomplished +light comedian of our day, that embodiment of grace, vivacity, sparkling +wit and unfading youth, who is known to the boards of the Comédie Franēaise +by the name of Delaunay. There are other minor luminaries, too numerous to +mention. + +We go up stairs and resume our seats, and the competition of comedy is +begun. Scene succeeds to scene and competitor to competitor: the day wears +on, and flitting clouds from time to time obscure the dome, bringing out +the glare of the footlights that have been burning all day in a singularly +effective manner. Of the nineteen competitors, the deepest impression is +made by M. Barral, who plays a scene from _L'Avare_ magnificently; by +Mademoiselle Carričre, who reveals herself as a sparkling and intelligent +soubrette; and by Mademoiselle Sisos, a genuine _comédienne_, only sixteen +years of age and as pretty as a peach. It is six o'clock when the last +competitor has said his say, and then the jury retire to deliberate +respecting the awards. What a flutter there must be among the young things +whose future destiny is now swaying in the balance, for success means +fortune, and failure a disheartening postponement, and to the elder ones +downright and disastrous ruin of all their hopes! Half an hour passes, and +then, after what seems a weary period of suspense, the box-door is thrown +open and the jury resume their seats. Ambroise Thomas, the president of the +Conservatoire, strikes his bell and a dead silence ensues. In a full +sonorous voice he begins: "Concours of tragedy, men's class. No +prizes.--Usher, summon M. Guitry." The gifted boy comes forward to the +footlights. "M. Guitry, the jury have awarded to you a _premier accessit_." +He bows and retires amid the hearty applause of the audience. "Women's +class.--Usher, call Mademoiselle Jullien." She comes out pale and agitated, +the slight form quivering like a wind-swept flower in her robes of creamy +cashmere. Is it the Odéon that awaits her--the second prize? for in her +modesty she had only hoped for a _premier accessit._ "Mademoiselle Jullien, +the jury have awarded to you the first prize." The first prize! Those words +mean to her an assured career, a brilliant future, the doors of the Comédie +Franēaise flung wide open to receive her. She falters, trembles, bows +profoundly, and goes off in a very passion of hysterical weeping. Then come +the comedy awards. M. Barral gets a first prize, as is his just due, as +does also Mademoiselle Carričre. "Usher, call Mademoiselle Sisos." She +comes forward, her great brown eyes dilated with excitement, her cheeks +burning like two red roses, a mass of faded white roses clinging amid the +rumpled gold of her hair--a very bewitching picture of childish grace and +beauty. "Mademoiselle Sisos, the jury have awarded to you a second prize." +She laughs and blushes, and brings her hands together with a childlike +gesture of delight. "Oh, merci!" she cries, and drops a courtesy, and then +away she goes--happy little creature, thus consecrated artiste at sixteen! +The other awards are given, the jury leave their box, and the audience +disperse. The friends of the competitors crowd around the stage-door, and +each of the successful ones is seized by the hand and congratulated and +embraced, the youthful Guitry being especially surrounded. Two or three +more years of study will land this gifted boy on the boards of the Comédie +Franēaise. The queen of the day, Mademoiselle Jullien, has stolen away +overcome by excess of emotion, which, though joyful, is still exhausting to +her delicate frame. Finally, everybody retires, the doors are closed, and +the long, exciting _séance_ has come to an end at last. + +L.H.H. + + +BRIGHAM YOUNG AND MORMONISM. + +Brigham Young's career is a valuable commentary on that of Mohammed, and +will hereafter be a standard citation with explorers of the natural history +of religions. It might be more proper to go back of Young, and adhere to +Joe Smith as the figure-head of the Mormon dispensation. How Smith would +have turned out had he lived, and whether he would have made as much of +Utah as the man upon whose shoulders his mantle fell, is not easy to say; +but his was a less robust character, the enthusiast in him too far +obscuring the organizer and commander. The Church is the thing to look at, +rather than its leaders, when we consider duration--the soil rather than +the plough. Why has Mohammed's creation lasted longer and spread wider than +that of Charlemagne or Tamerlane? And is Smith's to have the like fortune, +or to die out like those of Münster and Joanna Southcote? + +The Mormon "revelation" has been before the world more than forty years. In +twenty-two years from his first vision Mohammed had reduced all Arabia +under his religious and political sway. Young's dominions have not expanded +territorially. His faith cannot be said to exist outside of Utah. His +converts are compelled to go thither for the exercise of their religion. +Salt Lake City is not a Mecca, the goal of a passing pilgrimage, but the +one and only possible abiding-place of those who profess its creed. A +system thus localized is in danger of being stifled. Especially is this the +case when its seat is exposed to invasion by a swelling current of +non-sympathizers or open enemies. These may be repelled or prevented from +improving their foothold by the firmness, unity and numerical predominance +of the invaded. So it has happened at Salt Lake. The Mormons hold all the +serviceable soil, and it is difficult for the "Gentiles" to effect a +lodgment. Until they do, they must occupy, even in their own eyes, somewhat +the position of adventurers. They cannot hope to secure the respect of the +industrious sectaries who own and till the soil, and who are taught to +count them aliens and persecutors. Irrigation is here the only means of +successful agriculture. It involves great outlay of capital and labor, and +creates great fixedness of tenure. Newcomers are thus additionally +discouraged. + +Thus entrenched in a well-provisioned citadel, welcoming all the new levies +it can win, and amply able to provide for them, Mormonism bids fair to +make a prolonged stand. To emerge from a defensive position and strike for +unlimited sway is what it cannot, to judge by all precedents, expect. It +will be compelled, in fact, to lighten itself of some dead weights in order +to maintain its actual situation. Polygamy must go, and the absolute power +of the priesthood be modified. With some such adaptations it may continue a +reality for generations to come. And time is a great sanctifier. A creed +that lives for one or two centuries is by so much the more likely to live +longer. Youth is the critical period with religions, as with animals and +plants and nations. Through that period Mormonism is passing with +flattering success. That such a lusty juvenile will, by favor of the +mellowing effect imposed on all creeds by early years of toil, trouble and +experience, reach a middle age of presentable decency, is not a more +unlikely supposition than the worthy Vermont clergyman would have +pronounced, half a century ago, the idea that his _jeu d'esprit_ would +become the Bible of sixty thousand industrious, well-ordered +English-speaking people in the heart of the American continent. + +E.C.B. + + +THE EDUCATION OF WOMEN IN INDIA. + +According to a report sent to our Commissioner of Education at Washington +four years ago, there were then in India one thousand girls' schools +supported by the government and some five hundred missionary schools +devoted to female education. Besides these, there has sprung up during the +last few years a new field for the women-educators in that country. This is +the teaching of women in their homes. It is called _zenana-work._ The +_zenana_ is the women's apartment in the house--the _harem_ of the Turks. +Women have been sent from England and from America for this special object, +and their labors are meeting with encouraging success. They are constantly +gaining admission to new families, which from caste or other causes are +opposed to sending their young women to the regular schools. Some of the +zenana-teachers are regularly-educated physicians. + +For the government schools each province has a director of public +instruction, with inspectors of divisions and subdivisions. These directors +are "gentlemen of high qualification and well paid." It is a notable fact +that in one of the provinces the office of director is filled by a +Christian woman--a foreigner no doubt, though the report does not say. + +At Dehra, at the foot of the Himalaya Mountains, there is a high school for +girls organized on the plan of the Mount Holyoke Seminary. Here English is +spoken, and the pupils are carried through a course of training that may +justly be termed _high_. One of the pupils of this school has lately been +appointed by the government to go to England and qualify herself as a +physician, under a contract to return and serve the government by taking +charge of a hospital and college for training young women as midwives and +nurses. + +Of course, in a country containing a population of over one hundred and +fifty-one millions, one thousand public schools for girls, supplemented as +these are by missionary schools of many denominations, are inadequate to +meet the needs of the people. There is an increasing demand in all the +provinces for schools and colleges; and the native young men especially are +eagerly seeking the educational advantages of the colleges and +universities, because they know that these are a sure road to preferment. +"The government takes care to give employment to those who wish it." + +The difficulties in the way of female education in India are well expressed +in a late letter from one of the most distinguished native reformers, Baboo +Keshub Chunder Sen of Calcutta. "No words of mine," he says, "would convey +to you an adequate idea of the great obstacles which the social and +religious condition of the Hindoo community presents in the way of female +education and advancement. In a country where superstition and caste +prejudices prevail to an alarming extent, where widows are cruelly +persecuted and prevented from remarrying, where high-caste Hindoos are +allowed to marry as many wives as they like without undertaking the +responsibility of protecting them, and where little girls marry at a most +tender age and sacrifice all prospects of healthy physical and mental +development, it will take centuries before any solid and extensive reform +is achieved." + +Until recently, scarcely one woman in ten thousand learned to read or +acquired any of the accomplishments common to women of Christian countries. +Occasionally, women of vicious lives in cities, having leisure, became +quite learned, and this made learning a shame for women of irreproachable +reputation. Moreover, Hindoo husbands declared, and believed, that if you +taught a woman to read she would be sure in time to have illicit relations +with some one. Ignorance was innocence, the safeguard of both rank and +chastity. + +The missionaries, who were the first to attempt the amelioration of the +people, had to commence with the lowest castes or classes, those having +nothing to lose; and even then the teachers had to pay the girls a small +copper coin daily for attending school. Even the government schools in some +places pay the girls for attending, but they are much more popular than the +missionary schools, because, according to the Rev. Joseph Warren in the +report mentioned, the parents are not afraid that their girls will become +Christians by attending them; and he adds that the government teachers and +books are "all positively heathen or quite destitute of all religion." In +some parts of the country the government schools secure the attendance of +high-caste girls by allowing them to be placed behind a curtain, and thus +screened from the eyes of the male teacher or inspector, as all the women +of such classes are screened from male visitors. Even the physician sees +only a hand protruded from under a curtain, and by the touch of this, with +a few unsatisfactory answers to his questions, he is supposed to be able to +know what the malady is, and how to prescribe for it. + +M.H. + + + + +LITERATURE OF THE DAY. + + +Birds and Poets: with other Papers. By John Burroughs. New York: Hurd & +Houghton. + +A duodecimo that discourses on equal terms of Emerson and the chickadee, +and unites Carlyle and the author's cow with a cement or filling-in +indescribable in variety and in the comminution of materials, need not be +held to strict account in the matter of neatness or accuracy of title. The +closing article, headed "The Flight of the Eagle," is the most remarkable +of the collection. Who would suspect, under such a heading, an elaborate +eulogy of Walt Whitman? The writer is obviously more at home among the +song-birds than among the Raptores, unless he be the discoverer of some new +species of eagle characterized by traits very unlike those of other members +of the genus. It were to be wished that he had left out the disquisition on +Whitman, for it is a jarring chord in his little orchestra of lyric and +ornithologic song. He might have kept it by him till the longer growing of +his critical beard, and then, if still a devotee at that singular shrine, +have expanded it into a volume or two explanatory of the imagination, +animus and metre of his favorite bard. + +The feathered warblers have always been popular with the featherless, who +are indebted to them for no end of similes and suggestions. What would +poetry be without the skylark, the nightingale, the dove and the eagle? It +is far yet from having exhausted them. It cannot be said to have approached +them in the right way--on the most eloquent and interesting side. It +forgets that each species of bird stands by itself, and has its special +life and history as truly as man. We counted thirty-nine kinds in a grove +the centre whereof was our delightful abode for two-thirds of the past +summer, each endowed with its separate outfit of language, ways and means +of living, tastes and political and social notions. In each, moreover, +individualism showed itself--if not to our apprehension as articulately, +yet as indubitably, as among the race which considers them to have been all +created for its amusement and advantage. It does not take long, superficial +as is our acquaintance with their vernacular and the workings of their +little brains, to single out particular specimens, and perceive that no two +"birds of a feather" are exactly alike. A particular robin will rule the +roost, and assert successfully for his mate the choice of resting-places +above competing redbreasts. It is a particular catbird, identified, it may +be, by a missing feather in his tail, that heads the foray on our +strawberries and cherries. We recognize afar off either of the pair of +"flickers," or yellow-shafted woodpeckers, which have set up their penates +in the heart of the left-hand garden gatepost. The wren whose modest +tabernacle occupies the top of the porch pilaster we have little difficulty +in "spotting" when we meet her in a joint stroll along the lawn-fence. Her +ways are not as the ways of other wrens. She has a somewhat different style +of diving into the ivy and exploring the syringa. A new generation of doves +has grown up since the lilacs were in bloom, and nothing is easier than to +distinguish the old and young of the two or three separate families till +all leave the grass and the gravel together and hie to the stubble-fields +beyond our ken. Of the one mocking bird who made night hideous by his +masterly imitations of the screaking of a wheel-barrow (regreased at an +early period in self-defence) and the wheezy bark of Beppo, the +superannuated St. Bernard, there could of course be no doubt. There was +none of his kind to compare him with--not even a mate, for "sexual +selection" could not possibly operate in face of so inharmonious a +love-song. His isolation had its parallel in the one white guinea-fowl that +haunted the shrubbery like a ghost, much more silent and placid than it +would have been in society, and its antitype in the hennery, where +individuality of course ran riot among the Brahmas, Dominicas and +Hamburgs--hens that would and would not lay, that would and would not set, +that would and would not scratch up seeds, and presented generally as great +a variety of vagaries as of feathers. So, when we turned our back at last +on lovely Boscobel, itself shut out, as the common phrase goes, "from the +world" by serried ramparts of maple, elm, acacia and catalpa, we knew well +that that enceinte of leafage enclosed many little worlds of its +own--winged microcosms, epicycles of the grand cycle of dateless life which +man in his humility assumes to be merely a subsidiary appendage of his own +orbit. + +Birds should be studied seriously. The naturalists will tell us more about +them, and interest us more, than the poets. Mr. Bryant makes fun of the +bobolink, and turns into an aimless whistle the solemn oration on domestic +matters uttered by that small but energetic American to his mate. The +waterfowl he treats more gravely and respectfully, but he still makes it +only a part of the landscape and the theme, without ascribing any +intelligent purpose to its flight. The bird, proceeding steadily and calmly +to its business, may well have confounded its versifier with his fellow the +fowler, and looked upon him, too, as regretting only that it was out of +gunshot. Audubon or Wilson would have noted more sensibly the floating +figure, far above "falling dew," and the earth-bound mortal who was +evidently afraid of rheumatics and calculating whether he could walk home +before dark. The bird, they would have been perfectly aware, was neither +"wandering" nor "lost," and no more in need of the special interposition of +a protecting Providence than they or Mr. Bryant. They would infer its +motives, its point of departure and its destination, the character of the +friends it left behind or sought--whether it was carrying out a plan of +the day or bound on an expedition covering half the year. Its species would +have been plain to them at half a glance, and its scientific name would +have replaced the vague designation of "waterfowl." Its life, habits and +habitat winter and summer, would have unrolled before them, and the +dogs-eared and rain-stained note-book sprung open for a new entry. The +poet, on the other hand, got happily home without injury to his health (for +he is still hale half a century after the fact), lit the gas, nibbed the +quill pen of the day, and sent down to us what must be confessed a +pleasanter memorandum than we should have had from the forest-students. +These, brave and ardent fellows! have long been asleep beneath the birds. + +Mr. Burroughs is half poet, half naturalist in his way of looking at +Nature, and steers clear of the poetic vagueness in regard to species. A +passing description of the brown thrush as "skulking" among the bushes hits +that bird to the life. Some remarks on page 119 would seem to be applied by +a slip of the pen to the crow blackbird, instead of the cowbird, which has +always enjoyed the distinction of being the only American species that +disposes of its offspring after the fashion of the cuckoo and Jean Jacques +Rousseau. The chapter on Emerson contains some acute remarks, but the +warmest tribute to Emerson is the book itself, in which that writer's +influence is everywhere patent both in style and thought. Mr. Burroughs has +a happy facility of expression, and could well afford by this time to +discard the Emersonian props and stand on his own merits. + + +The Life of Edgar Allan Poe. By W.F. Gill. Illustrated. New York: +Dillingham. + +Griswold's memoir of Poe has been actually beneficial to the reputation of +its subject, contrary to its obvious design. It has caused a thorough +sifting of all accessible records of the poet's short and dreary life, and +elicited many reminiscences from men of mark who were in one way or another +personally associated with him. We know now, more certainly than we might +have done but for Griswold's effort to prove the opposite, that Poe was not +expelled in disgrace from the University of Virginia, but bore himself well +there as a student and a man; that he deliberately went to work and +procured his being dropped from the rolls of West Point by building up with +venial faults the requisite sum of "demerits," after having repeatedly and +in vain sought permission to withdraw from the control of a system of +discipline so unsuited to his temperament; that, so far from being +intemperate, a single glass of wine sufficed to bring on something like +insanity; that, instead of neglecting his family, he devoted himself to +them with a very rare exclusiveness, and wore down his health by watching +at the bedside of his sick wife; that he was as faithful to his business as +to his domestic obligations; and that, wholly disqualified for battling +with the world, he managed to keep his necessarily troubled life at least +unstained. We know, moreover, that he did not appoint Griswold his +literary executor, and that the document used by the latter as a means of +deriving from that assumed office an opportunity of vindictive defamation +was drawn up after the poet's death by Griswold himself. To the controversy +thus excited we are indebted for the illumination of one or two poems +relinquished by the critics as hopelessly, if not intentionally, obscure. +_Ulalume_, for example, held by some to be a mere experiment on the +jingling capacity of words and the taste of readers for grappling with +insoluble puzzles, is pronounced by one familiar with his most intimate +feelings at the time of its composition a sublimated but distinct reflex of +them and of the circumstances which gave them color. + +Could Poe's pen have cleared itself from the morbid influences which fixed +it in a peculiar path, we might have missed some of his finest and most +subtle poems and some prose efforts which we could better spare. But his +wonderful powers of analysis would have been serviceable upon a broader and +more practical field. He had an insight into the laws of language and of +rhythm equalled by no one else in our day. What is most mysterious in the +forms and relations of matter had a special charm for him. None could trace +it more acutely; and his powers, matured by more and healthier years and +applied in their favorite direction, were quite equal to results like those +attained by his predecessor Goethe, the savant of poets. He died a few +years older than Burns and Byron, but more of a boy than either. The man +Poe we never saw. The best of him was to come, and it never came. Poe had, +however, what he is not always credited with--the sincerity and earnestness +of maturity. He was anything but a mere propounder of riddles. Had he lived +to our day, his office would have been to aid science, so wonderfully +advanced in the intervening third of a century, in solving some of its own. +And in addition to that possible work we should have been none the poorer +in the treasures of poetry he actually gave us. + + +Olivia Raleigh. By W.W. Follett Synge. Philadelphia: J.B. Lippincott & Co. + +In the few choice words of introduction to the American reprint Mrs. Annis +Lee Wister admirably characterizes this charming novel. It is indeed like a +"clear, pure breath of English air:" from the first page to the last it is +redolent of the health of an "incense-breathing morn." There are no dark +scenes here, leaving on the reader a feeling of degradation that such +things can be--no impossible villain weaving a web of intricate or +purposeless villainy--but all is fresh and genuine, and we close the volume +with a sense of gratitude that such a story is possible. + +Even if this be not in itself a recommendation sufficient to enlist the +interest of novel-readers, _Olivia Raleigh_ is something more: it is a work +of art: there is in it nothing crude or hasty or ill-digested. Around the +four or five prominent characters all the interest centres, and the +attention is not distracted by any wearisome episodes that have nothing to +do with the main story. The characters are admirably thought out, and +reveal themselves more by their actions than by any microscopical analysis +of motives. They pass before us like veritable human beings, and what they +are we learn from what they do. The transformation of one of the characters +from a gay, debonnair bachelor past middle age into a penurious miser of +the Blueberry-Jones type is bold, and in less skilful hands would be a +blemish, but Mr. Synge has amply justified it, and admirably uses it to +cement the structure of his plot. There is no weakness in any chapter, and +as we read so secure do we feel in the author's strength that, had he +chosen to end the story in sorrow and not in joy, we should submit as +though to an inflexible decree of Fate. + + +Les Koumiassine. Par Henry Gréville. Paris: Plon. + +It is always interesting to watch the course of French fiction, because +while the novel is in all countries at the present time the favorite form +of expression of those writers who eschew scientific work on the one side +and stand aloof from poetry on the other, in France, which is noticeably +the country where theories are put into practice as well as invented, all +sorts of literary methods have their clever defenders, who furnish examples +of what they preach. Since Balzac and George Sand died, the post of leading +novelist has been vacant, although there has been no lack of writers of the +second or third, and especially of still lower, rank. Octave Feuillet still +produces occasionally a clever piece of workmanship; Cherbuliez at +intervals writes a novel which proves how lamentable a thing is the +possession of brilliancy alone apart from the seriousness of character, or +of some sides of character, which must exist alongside of even high +intellectual qualities in order that the man may make a lasting impression +on his time. Great gifts frittered away on meaningless trifles are as +disappointing as possible, and are the more disappointing in proportion to +the greatness of the gifts; so that the decadence of Cherbuliez--or, if +this is too severe, his lack of improvement after his brilliant +beginning--is a very melancholy thing. Zola is among the younger men, the +head of a number of enthusiasts who revel in the exact study of social +ordure, and who threaten to destroy fiction by ridding it of what makes its +life--imagination, that is--and substituting for it scientific fact. +Theuriet is an amiable but by no means a powerful writer, who so far has +contented himself with following different models without striking out any +special path of his own. + +Henry Gréville is a new author, who has reached by no means the highest, +yet a very respectable, place--such as would be a source of gratification +to most people. The name signed to her novels is the _nom-de-plume_ of a +lady who, as is also apparent from her work, has lived long enough in +Russia to become familiar with the people and their ways. _Les Koumiassine_ +is a story of Russian life, treating of a rich family whose name gives the +title to the novel. The family is one of great wealth, and consists of the +Count Koumiassine and his wife, their two children--one a boy of nine or +ten, the other a girl half a dozen years older--and a niece of about +seventeen. The plot concerns itself with the efforts of the countess to +give her niece, whom she values much less than her daughter, a suitable +husband. The poor girl is bullied and badgered after the most approved +methods of domestic tyranny, and her high-spirited struggle against adverse +circumstances makes the book as readable as one could wish. After all, the +family is a microcosm, and furnishes frequent opportunity for the practice +of good or bad qualities; and the cleverest novel-writers have chosen just +this subject which seems so bald to the romantic writer. The contest in +this case is a long one, and is hotly contested, and the imperiousness of +the countess and the graceful courage of the girl are excellently well +described. The other characters too are clearly put before the reader, so +that those who exercise care in their choice of French novels may take up +this one with the certainty that they will be entertained, and, what is +rarer, innocently entertained. For in a large pile of French novels it +would be hard to find so pretty a story so well told as is the intimacy +between the two young girls, the cousins, who in their different ways +circumvent Fate in the person of the countess. Their amiability and jollity +and loyalty to each other give the book an air of attractive truthfulness +and refinement which well replaces the priggishness generally to be found +in innocuous French fiction. More than this, the plot is intelligently +handled, and no person is introduced who is not carefully studied. In this +respect of careful execution the author resembles Tourgueneff, whose friend +and disciple she is. Like him, and like those who have been affected by his +influence, she gives attention to the minor characters and comparatively +insignificant incidents, so that the book makes a really lifelike +impression. This is not a story of great passion, but it deals very +cleverly with the less open waters of domestic strife. While what it shows +of human nature in general is the most important thing, what is shown of +Russian life is of great interest. The position of the countess, and the +habit of her mind with its over-bearing self-will and ingenious +self-approval, are studies possible, of course, anywhere, but pretty sure +to be found especially in a land like Russia, where the habit of command +was until recently so strongly fostered by the existence of serfdom. The +condition of those who are exposed to this aggressive imperiousness is +clearly illustrated in the numerous dependants who make their appearance in +this story. But it is the countess who is the best drawn and most +impressive personage. She is really lifelike, and yet not a commonplace +figure. + + + + +_Books Received_. + +Disease of the Mind: Notes on the Early Management, European and American +Progress, Modern Methods, etc., in the Treatment of Insanity, with especial +reference to the needs of Massachusetts and the United States. By Charles +F. Folsom, M.D. Boston: A. Williams & Co. + +Cicero's Tusculan Disputations; also Treatises on The Nature of the Gods, +and on The Commonwealth. Literally translated by C.D. Yonge. New York: +Harper & Brothers. + +Shakespeare: The Man and the Book. Being a collection of Occasional Papers +on the Bard and his Writings. Part I. By C.M. Ingleby, M.A. London: Trübner +& Co. + +Shakespeare's Comedy of a Midsummer Night's Dream. Edited with Notes by +William J. Rolfe, A.M. New York: Harper & Brothers. + +Four Irrepressibles; or, The Tribe of Benjamin: Their Summer with Aunt +Agnes, what they Did, and what they Undid. Boston: Loring. + +The Magnetism of Iron Vessels, with a Short Treatise on Terrestrial +Magnetism. By Fairman Rogers. New York: D. Van Nostrand. + +Virgin Soil. By Ivan Tourgueneff. From the French by T.S. Perry. +(Leisure-Hour Series.) New York: Henry Holt & Co. + +Personal Appearance and the Culture of Beauty. By T.S. Sozinsky, M.D., +Ph.D. Philadelphia: Allen, Lane & Scott. + +An English Commentary on the Tragedies of Euripides. By Charles Anthon, +LL.D. New York: Harper & Brothers. + +Strength of Men and Stability of Nations. By P.A. Chadbourne, D.D., LL.D. +New York: G.P. Putnam's Sons. + +Eighth Annual Report of the State Board of Health of Massachusetts. Boston: +Albert J. Wright. State Printer. + +The Antelope and Deer of America. By John Dean Caton, LL.D. New York: Hurd +& Houghton. + +G.T.T.; or, The Wonderful Adventures of a Pullman. By Edward E. Hale. +Boston: Roberts Brothers. + +Until the Day Break. By Mrs. J.M.D. Bartlett ("Birch Arnold"). +Philadelphia: Porter & Coates. + +Other People's Children. By the author of "Helen's Babies." New York: G.P. +Putnam's Sons. + +Poet and Merchant. By B. Auerbach. (Leisure-Hour Series.) New York: Henry +Holt & Co. + +Mental Education. By J. Edward Cranage, M.A., Ph.D. London: Bemrose & Sons. + +Beautiful Edith, the Child-Woman. (Loring's Tales of the Day.) Boston: +Loring. + +Aliunde; or, Love Ventures of Tom, Dick and Harry. New York: Charles P. +Somerby. + +Ideals made Real: A Romance. By George L. Raymond. New York: Hurd & +Houghton. + +Lola. By A. Griffiths. (Leisure-Hour Series.) New York: Henry Holt & Co. + +Kilmeny: A Novel. By William Black. New York: Harper & Brothers. + +Winstowe: A Novel. By Mrs. Leith-Adams. New York: Harper & Brothers. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Lippincott's Magazine of Popular +Literature and Science, October, 1877, Vol. XX. No. 118, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIPPINCOTT'S MAGAZINE *** + +***** This file should be named 16361-8.txt or 16361-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/3/6/16361/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Christine D and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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No. 118, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Lippincott's Magazine of Popular Literature and Science, October, 1877, Vol. XX. No. 118 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: July 27, 2005 [EBook #16361] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIPPINCOTT'S MAGAZINE *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Christine D and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<p class="bbox">Transcriber's note: Punctuation normalized, original spelling retained. +Table of Contents and List of Illustrations added by Transcriber.</p> + + + +<p><a name="Page_392" id="Page_392"><span class="pagenum">Page 392</span></a></p> + +<p><a name="listlink1" id="listlink1"></a></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"><a href="images/img1.jpg"> +<img src="images/img1_th.jpg" width="400" height="259" alt=""He stepped forward with a smile." For Percival. Page 420." title=""He stepped forward with a smile." For Percival. Page 420." /></a> +<span class="caption">"He stepped forward with a smile." For Percival. <a href="#Page_420">Page 420.</a></span> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><a name="Page_393" id="Page_393"><span class="pagenum">Page 393</span></a></p> +<h1>Lippincott's Magazine</h1> +<h3>Of</h3> +<h1><i>Popular Literature And Science</i>.</h1> + +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> +<h4>October, 1877.</h4> +<h4>Vol XX—No. 118</h4> +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> + +<p>Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1877, by <span class="smcap">J.B. Lippincott & Co</span>., in the Office of the +Librarian of Congress, at Washington.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. --> +<h3>Table of Contents</h3> +<p> +<a href="#Chester_And_The_Dee">Chester And The Dee.</a><br /> +<a href="#For_Another">For Another.</a><br /> +<a href="#Among_The_Kabyles">Among The Kabyles.</a><br /> +<a href="#For_Percival">"For Percival."</a><br /> +<a href="#Abbeys_And_Castles">Abbeys And Castles.</a><br /> +<a href="#Little_Lizay">Little Lizay.</a><br /> +<a href="#The_Bass_Of_The_Potomac">The Bass Of The Potomac.</a><br /> +<a href="#The_Chrysalis_Of_A_Bookworm">The Chrysalis Of A Bookworm.</a><br /> +<a href="#A_Law_Unto_Herself">A Law Unto Herself.</a><br /> +<a href="#Alfred_De_Musset">Alfred De Musset.</a><br /> +<a href="#The_Bee">The Bee.</a><br /> +<a href="#Our_Jook">"Our Jook."</a><br /> +<a href="#Communism_In_The_United_States">Communism In The United States.</a><br /> +<a href="#Our_Monthly_Gossip">Our Monthly Gossip.</a><br /></p> +<div> +<ul><li><a href="#Notes_From_Moscow">Notes From Moscow.</a></li> +<li><a href="#A_Day_At_The_Paris_Conservatoire">A Day At The Paris Conservatoire.</a></li> +<li><a href="#Brigham_Young_And_Mormonism">Brigham Young And Mormonism.</a></li> +<li><a href="#The_Education_Of_Women_In_India">The Education Of Women In India.</a></li></ul> +</div> +<p> +<a href="#Literature_Of_The_Day">Literature Of The Day.</a><br /> +<a href="#Books_Received">Books Received.</a><br /></p> +<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. --> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<!-- LOI. --> +<h3>List of Illustrations</h3> +<p> +<a href="#listlink1">"He stepped forward with a smile." For Percival. Page 420.</a><br /> +<a href="#listlink2">The Dee Above Bala.</a><br /> +<a href="#listlink3">Caer-gai.</a><br /> +<a href="#listlink4">Bala.</a><br /> +<a href="#listlink5">Remains Of Valle Crucis Abbey.</a><br /> +<a href="#listlink6">Owen Glendower's Prison.</a><br /> +<a href="#listlink7">The Parliament House, Dolgelly.</a><br /> +<a href="#listlink8">In The Vale Of Llangollen.</a><br /> +<a href="#listlink9">Llangollen.</a><br /> +<a href="#listlink10">Chester, From The Aldford Road.</a><br /> +<a href="#listlink11">Coracles.</a><br /> +<a href="#listlink12">Chester Cathedral And City Wall.</a><br /> +<a href="#listlink13">Overton Church.</a><br /> +<a href="#listlink14">Roman Sepulchre At Taksebt.</a><br /> +<a href="#listlink15">The Djurjura Range.</a><br /> +<a href="#listlink16">Road Across The Djurjura At Mount Tirourda.</a><br /> +<a href="#listlink17">The Peak Of Tirourda.</a><br /> +<a href="#listlink18">Djema-sahridj.</a><br /> +<a href="#listlink19">A Dish-factory.</a><br /> +<a href="#listlink20">The Boudoir And Kitchen.</a><br /> +<a href="#listlink21">Repose.</a><br /> +</p> +<!-- End LOI. --> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Chester_And_The_Dee" id="Chester_And_The_Dee"></a>Chester And The Dee.</h2> + +<h3>Two Papers.—I.</h3> + +<p><a name="listlink2" id="listlink2"></a></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"><a href="images/img2.jpg"> +<img src="images/img2_th.jpg" width="400" height="304" alt="The Dee Above Bala." title="The Dee Above Bala." /></a> +<span class="caption">The Dee Above Bala.</span> +</div> + +<p>The history of Chester is that of a +key. It was the last city that gave +up Harold's unlucky cause and surrendered +to William the Conqueror, and the +last that fell in the no less unlucky cause +of the Stuart king against the Parliamentarians. +In much earlier times it was +held by the famous Twentieth Legion, +the <i>Valens Victrix</i>, as the key of the<a name="Page_394" id="Page_394"><span class="pagenum">Page 394</span></a> +Roman dominion in the north-west of +Britain, and at present it has peculiarities +of position, as well as of architecture, +which make it unique in England and a +lodestone to Americans. Curiously planted +on the border of the newest and most +bustling manufacturing district in England, +close to the coalfields of North +Wales, the mines of Lancashire, the +quays of its sea-rival Liverpool and the +mills of grimy, wealthy Manchester, it +still exercises, besides its artistic and historic +supremacy, a <i>bonâ fide</i> ecclesiastical +sway over most of these new places. +It is the first ancient city accessible to +American travellers, many of whom have +given practical tokens of their affectionate +remembrance of it by largely subscribing +to the fund for the restoration of the cathedral, +a work that has already cost +some eighty thousand pounds.</p> + +<p><a name="listlink3" id="listlink3"></a></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 322px;"><a href="images/img3.jpg"> +<img src="images/img3_th.jpg" width="322" height="400" alt="Caer-gai." title="Caer-gai." /></a> +<span class="caption">Caer-gai.</span> +</div> + +<p>The neighborhood of Chester is as suggestive +of antiquity and foreigners as the +city itself. Volumes might be written +about the quaint, Dutch-like scenery of +the low rich land reclaimed from the +sea; the broad, sandy estuary of the +Dee, with the square-headed peninsula, +the Wirrall, which divides this quiet +river from the noisy Mersey; the Hoylake, +Parkgate and Neston fisher-folk on +the sandy shores, with their queer lives, +monotonous scratching-up of mussels +and cockles, a never-failing trade, their +terms of praise—"the biggest scrat," for +instance, "in all the island," being the +form of commendation for the woman +who can with her rake at the end of +a long pole scratch up most shellfish +in a given time; the low, fertile green +pastures, the creamy cheese and the +eight yearly cheese-fairs. The city itself +is the most foreign-looking in all +England, and the inhabitants have the +good taste to be proud of this. The +river Dee—Milton's "wizard stream"—celebrated +both by English and Welsh +bards, is not seen to as much advantage +under the walls of the Roman "camp" +(<i>castra</i>=Chester) as elsewhere, but its +bridges serve to supply the want of +fine scenery, especially the Old Bridge, +which crosses the river just at its bend, +and whose massive pointed arches +took the place, when they were first +built, of a ferry by which the city was +entered at the "Ship Gate," whence +now you look over "the Cop" or +high bank on the right side of the +stream, and view, as from a dike in +Holland, the reclaimed land stretching +eight miles beyond Chester, though +the resemblance ceases at Saltney, where +behind the iron-works tower the Welsh +hills—Moel-Famman conspicuous above +the rest—that bound the Vale of Clwyd.</p> + +<p>The Dee is more a Welsh than an +English river. It rises in the bleak +mountain-region of Merionethshire, the +most intensely Welsh of all counties, +above Bala Lake, which is commonly +but incorrectly called its source. Thence +it flows through the Vale of Llangollen, +famous in poetry, and waters the meadows +of Wynnestay, the splendid home of +one of Wales's most national representatives, +Sir Watkin Williams Wynn, and +only beyond that does it become English +by flowing round and into Cheshire. +On a very tiny scale the Dee follows +something of the course of the Rhine: +three streamlets combine to form it; these +unite at the village of Llanwchllyn, and +<a name="Page_395" id="Page_395"><span class="pagenum">Page 395</span></a>the river flows on, a mere mountain-torrent, +past an old farmhouse, Caer-gai, +lying on a desolate moor at the head of +Bala Lake, and through the lake itself, +after which its scenery alternates, like +the Rhine's below Constance, between +rocky gorges and flat moist meadows +dotted with hamlets, churches and towns. +Bala—otherwise Lin-Jegid and Pimblemere +("Lake of the Five Parishes")—has +some traditional connection with the +great British epic, or rather with its accessories—the +<i>Morte d'Arthur</i>—of which +Tennyson has availed himself in <i>Enid</i>, +mentioning that Enid's gentle ministrations +soothed the wounded Geraint</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i1">As the south-west that blowing Bala Lake,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Fills all the sacred Dee.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Arthur's own home, according to Spenser, +was at the source of the Dee: Vortigern's +castle was near by on the head-waters +of the Conway; and "under the foot of +Rauran's mossy base" was the dwelling +of old Timon, where Merlin came and +gave to his care the wonderful infant +who was to become the Christian Hercules +of Britain. "Rauran" is the mountain +which in Welsh is Arran-Pon-Llin, +and which with its rocky shelves overlooks +the yews of Bala's churches and +the unaccustomed shade trees which the +little town boasts in its principal streets. +The lake, quiet and hardly visited as it +is now, has great resources which are +likely to be called upon in the future, and +a survey was made ten years ago with a +view of supplying Liverpool, Manchester, +Blackburn, Birkenhead, etc. with water +whenever a fresh demand for it should +arise. This would imply the building of +a breakwater at the narrow outlet of the +lake, the damming up of a few mountain +passes, and the "impounding" of a +tributary of the Dee below the lake—the +Tryweryn, which has an extensive +drainage-area; but these works are still +only projected.</p> + +<p><a name="listlink4" id="listlink4"></a></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"><a href="images/img4.jpg"> +<img src="images/img4_th.jpg" width="400" height="302" alt="Bala." title="Bala." /></a> +<span class="caption">Bala.</span> +</div> + +<p>There is scarcely an English brook that +has not some historical associations, some +poetical reminiscences, some attractions +beyond those of scenery. Wherever +water, forest and meadow were combined, +<a name="Page_396" id="Page_396"><span class="pagenum">Page 396</span></a>an abbey was generally planted. +Bala Lake, with its fishing-rights, +once belonged to the Cistercian abbey +of Basingwerk, while the Dee just above +Llangollen was the property of the abbey +of Valle Crucis, whose beautiful ruins +still stand on its banks. Before we reach +them we pass by the country of the Welsh +hero, Owen Glendower, from whom are +descended many of the families of this +neighborhood and others—the Vaughans, +for instance; by Glendower's +prison at Corwen, and the Parliament +House at Dolgelly, where he signed a +treaty with France, and where the beautiful +oak carving of the roof would alone +repay a visitor for his trouble in getting +there. The Dee is for the most part wanting +in striking natural features, but here and +there steep rocks enclose its foaming waters; +deep banks covered with trees break +the rugged shore-line; a village, such as +Llanderfel with a tumbledown bridge, +lies nestled in the valley; and coracles +shoot here and there over the stream. +These primitive boats, basketwork covered +with hides, or, as used now, canvas +coated with tar, are propelled by a paddle, +and are much used for netting salmon. +Near Bangor the fishermen are so +skilful that they generally win in the coracle-races +got up periodically by enthusiastic +revivalists of old national sports.</p> + +<p><a name="listlink5" id="listlink5"></a></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"><a href="images/img5.jpg"> +<img src="images/img5_th.jpg" width="400" height="315" alt="Remains Of Valle Crucis Abbey." title="Remains Of Valle Crucis Abbey." /></a> +<span class="caption">Remains Of Valle Crucis Abbey.</span> +</div> + +<p>Llangollen Vale has a beauty of its own, +the family likeness of which to that of +all valleys in the hearts of mountains +makes it none the less welcome. The +picturesqueness of thatched houses and +a dilapidation of masonry which only +age makes beautiful marks the difference +between this valley and the Alpine ones +with their trim, clean toy houses, or the +Transatlantic ones with their square, +solid, black log huts and huge well-sweeps; +otherwise the fresh greenery, +the purple mountain-shadows, the subdued +sounds, no one knows whence, the +sense of peace and solitude, are akin to +every other beautiful valley-scene of mingled +wildness and cultivation. A traveller +can hardly help making comparisons, +yet much escapes him of the peculiar +<a name="Page_397" id="Page_397"><span class="pagenum">Page 397</span></a>charm that hangs round every place, +and is too subtle to disclose itself to the +eye of a mere passer. You must live at +least six months in one place before its +true character unfolds: the broad beauties +you see at once, but it needs the +microscope of habit to find out the rarest +charms. Therefore it is much easier to +descant on the tangible, striking beauty +of Valle Crucis Abbey than on the aggregate +loveliness of Llangollen Vale; +and perhaps it is this lack of familiarity +that leads novelists, poets and others to +dwell so much more and with such +detail on buildings than on natural +scenery. It may not be given them +to understand upon how much higher +a plane of beauty stands a bed of ferns +on a rocky ledge, a clump of trees even +on a flat meadow, and especially a +tangled forest-scene or a view of distant +mountains in a sunset glow, or +the surface of water undotted by a sail, +than the highest effect of man-made +beauty, be it even York Minster or +the Parthenon. What man does has +value by reason of the meaning in it, +and of course man cannot but fall short +of the perfection of his own meaning; +whereas Nature is of herself perfection, +and perfection in which there is no effort. +Valle Crucis is hardly a rival of +Fountains or Rivaulx. The Cistercians +in the beginning of their foundation +were reformers, ascetic, and essentially +agriculturists. Their great leader, Bernard +of Clairvaux, the advocate of silence +and work, once said, "Believe me, +I have learnt more from trees than ever I +learnt from men." But decay came even +into this community of farmer-monks, and +the praise and panegyric of the abbey, +as handed down to us by a Welsh poet, +betray unconsciously things hardly to the +credit of a monastic house, for the abbot, +"the pope of the glen," he tells us, gave +entertainments "like the leaves in summer," +with "vocal and instrumental music," +wine, ale and curious dishes of fish +and fowl, "like a carnival feast," and "a +thousand apples for dessert."</p> + +<p><a name="listlink6" id="listlink6"></a></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"><a href="images/img6.jpg"> +<img src="images/img6_th.jpg" width="300" height="400" alt="Owen Glendower's Prison." title="Owen Glendower's Prison." /></a> +<span class="caption">Owen Glendower's Prison.</span> +</div> + +<p><a name="listlink7" id="listlink7"></a></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"><a href="images/img7.jpg"> +<img src="images/img7_th.jpg" width="400" height="297" alt="The Parliament House, Dolgelly." title="The Parliament House, Dolgelly." /></a> +<span class="caption">The Parliament House, Dolgelly.</span> +</div> + +<p>The river-scenery changes below +Llangollen, and gives us first a glimpse +of a wooded, narrow valley, then of +the unsightly accessories of the great +North Wales coalfield, after which it enters +upon a typically English phase—low +undulating hills and moist, rich meadows +divided by luxuriant hedges and dotted +with single spreading trees. The hedgerow +timber of Cheshire is beautiful, and +to a great extent makes up for the want +of tracts of wooded land. This country +is not, like the Midland counties and the +great Fen district, violently or exclusively +agricultural, and these hedges and +trees, which are gratefully kept up for +the sake of the shade they afford to +the cattle, show a very different temper +among the farmers from that utilitarianism +which marks the men of Leicester shire, +Lincoln, Nottingham, Norfolk, or +Rutland. There even great land-owners +are often obliged to humor their tenants, +and keep the unwelcome hedges +trimmed so as not to interpose two feet +of shade between them and the wheat-crop; +and as often as possible hedges +are replaced by ugly stone walls or wooden +fences. It is only in their own grounds +that landlords can afford to court picturesqueness, +and in this part of the country +the American who is said to have objected +<a name="Page_398" id="Page_398"><span class="pagenum">Page 398</span></a>to hedges because they were unfit +for seats whence to admire the landscape, +might safely sit down anywhere; only, +as matters are seldom perfectly arranged, +there is very little to admire but a flat +expanse of wheat, barley and grass. +This part of Cheshire has hardly more +diversity in its river-scenery, but the +mere presence of trees and green arbors +makes it a pleasant picture, while here +and there, as at Overton (this is Welsh, +however, and belongs to Flintshire), a +church-tower comes in to complete the +scene. Here the Dee winds about a +good deal, and receives its beautiful, +dashing tributary, the Alyn, which runs +through the Vale of Gresford and waters +the park of Trevallyn Old Hall, one of +the loveliest of old English homes. Its +pointed gables and great clustering stacks +of chimneys, its mullioned and diamond-paned +windows, its finely-wooded park, +all realize the stranger's ideal of the antique +manor-house. This neighborhood +is studded with country-houses in all +styles of architecture, from the characteristic +national to the uncomfortable +and cold foreign type. Houses that +were meant to stand in ilex-groves under +a purple sky and a sun of bronze look +forlorn and uninviting under the gray +sky of England and amid its trees leafless +for so many months in the year: +home associations seem impossible in +a porticoed house suggestive of outdoor +living and the relegation of chambers to +the use of a mere refuge from the weather. +For many of these places are no +more than villas enlarged, and might be +set down with advantage to themselves +in the Regent's Park in London, the very +acme of the commonplace. On the other +hand, all the traditional associations +that go with an English hall presuppose +a national style of architecture. Even +florid Tudor, even sturdy "Queen Anne," +can stand juxtaposition with groups of +horses, dogs and huntsmen; Christmas +cheer and Christmas weather set them +off all the better; leafless trees are no +drawback; the house looks warmer, +coseyer, more home-like, the worse the +<a name="Page_399" id="Page_399"><span class="pagenum">Page 399</span></a>blast and rush without. A roaring fire is +natural to the huge hall fireplace, while +in a mosaic-paved "ante-room" or a +frescoed "saloon" it looks foreign and +out of place. Many an odd Welsh and +English house has unfortunately disappeared +to make room for a cold, unsuccessful +monstrosity that reminds one of +a mammoth railway-station or a new +hotel; and when Welsh names are tacked +on to these absurd dwellings the contrast +is as painful as it is forcible. Such, +for instance, is Bryn-y-Pys, on the Dee—a +house you might guess to belong to +a Liverpool merchant who had trusted +to a common builder for a comfortable +home. Overton Cottage, on the other +side, fills in with its walks and plantations +an abrupt bend of the river, and +the view from the up-going road at its +back is very lovely, though the scene is +purely pastoral. Overton Churchyard is +one of the "seven wonders" of North +Wales: it has a very trim and stately +appearance, not that ragged, free if melancholy, +outspreadedness which distinguishes +many country cemeteries, that +unpremeditated luxuriance of creepers +and flowers, blossoming bushes and +grasses, that make up at least half of +one's pleasant reminiscences of such +places. How much more interesting to +find an old tomb or quaint "brass" under +the temple of a wild rosebush or in +the firm clasp of an ivy-root than to +walk up to it and read the inscription +newly scraped and cleaned by the voluble +attendant who volunteers to show +you the place! The great elms by Overton +Church and the half-timbered and +thatched houses crowding up to its gates +somewhat make up for the splendor of +the coped wall and new monuments in +the churchyard. A scene wholly old is +the Erbistock Ferry, which one might +mistake for a rope-ferry on the Mosel. +The cottage looks like the dilapidated +lodge of an old monastery, and here, at +least, is no trimness. Two walls with a +flight of steps in each enclose a grass +terrace between them, and trees and +bushes straggle to the edge of the river, +hardly keeping clear of the swinging +rope. Coracles are sometimes used for +ferrying—also punts. Bangor is a familiar +name to students of church history, +and to those who are not, the startling +tale of the massacre of twelve hundred +<a name="Page_400" id="Page_400"><span class="pagenum">Page 400</span></a>British monks by the Saxon and +heathen king of Northumbria, who conquered +Chester and invaded Wales in +the seventh century, is repeated by the +local guides. At present, Bangor is interesting +to anglers and to lovers of curiosities—to +the former as a good salmon-ground, +and to the latter for the quaint +verses, which, though trivial in themselves, +borrow a value from the date of +their inscription and the "laws" to which +they refer. They are on the wall of the +lower story of the bell-tower:</p> + +<p><a name="listlink8" id="listlink8"></a></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"><a href="images/img8.jpg"> +<img src="images/img8_th.jpg" width="400" height="268" alt="In The Vale Of Llangollen." title="In The Vale Of Llangollen." /></a> +<span class="caption">In The Vale Of Llangollen.</span> +</div> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">If that to ring you would come here,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">You must ring well with hand and ear;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But if you ring in spur or hat,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fourpence always is due for that;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But if a bell you overthrow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sixpence is due before you go;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But if you either swear or curse,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Twelvepence is due; pull out your purse.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Our laws are old, they are not new;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Therefore the clerk must have his due.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">If to our laws you do consent,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then take a bell: we are content.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><a name="listlink9" id="listlink9"></a></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 247px;"><a href="images/img9.jpg"> +<img src="images/img9_th.jpg" width="247" height="400" alt="Llangollen." title="Llangollen." /></a> +<span class="caption">Llangollen.</span> +</div> + +<p>Farndon Bridge and Wrexham Church +(the latter looks like a small cathedral +to the unpractised eye) are the last Welsh +points of attraction before the Dee becomes +quite an English river. Malpas +(<i>mauvais pas</i> = "bad step"), on the +English bank, is significantly so-called +from its situation as a border town: the +rector, too, might consider it not ill +named, as regards the odd partition +of the church tithes, which has been +in force from time immemorial, and +has given rise to an explanatory legend +concerning a travelling king +whom the resident curate wisely entertained +in the absence of the rector, +receiving for his guerdon a promise of +an equal share in the income, not only +for himself, but for all future curates. +In the upper rectory (the lower is the +curate's house) was born Bishop Heber +in 1783, and in the early years of +this century, before missionary meetings +were as common as they are now, +the young clergyman wrote on the spur +of the moment, with only one word +corrected, the well-known hymn, +"From Greenland's Icy Mountains." +A missionary sermon was announced +for Sunday at Wrexham, the vicarage +of Heber's father-in-law, Shirley, and +the want of a suitable hymn was felt. +He was asked on Saturday to write +one, and did so, seated at a window +of the old vicarage-house. It was +printed that evening, and sung the +next day in Wrexham Church. The +original manuscript is in a collection +at Liverpool, and the printer who set +up the type when a boy was still living +at Wrexham within the last twenty years.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_401" id="Page_401"><span class="pagenum">Page 401</span></a></p> + +<p><a name="listlink10" id="listlink10"></a></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"><a href="images/img10.jpg"> +<img src="images/img10_th.jpg" width="400" height="231" alt="Chester, From The Aldford Road." title="Chester, From The Aldford Road." /></a> +<span class="caption">Chester, From The Aldford Road.</span> +</div> + +<p>The river now makes a turn, sweeping +along into English ground and making +almost a natural moat round Chester, +the great Roman camp whose form and +intersecting streets still bear the stamp +of Roman regularity, and whose history +long bore traces of the influence of Roman +inflexibility mingled with British +dash. The view of the city is fine from +the Aldford road (or Old Ford, where a +Roman pavement is sometimes visible +in the bed of the stream), with the cathedral +and St. John's towering over +<a name="Page_402" id="Page_402"><span class="pagenum">Page 402</span></a>the peaks and gables that shoot up above +the walls. The mention of the ford brings +to mind a famous crossing of the river +during the civil wars. It was just before +the battle of Rowton Moor, which +Charles I. watched from the tower that +now bears his name; and Sir Marmaduke +Langdale, one of his leal soldiers, +wishing to send the king notice of his +having crossed the Dee at Farndon +Bridge and pressing on the Parliamentarians, +bade Colonel Shakerley convey +the message as speedily as possible. +The latter, to avoid the long circuit by +the bridge, galloped to the Dee, took a +wooden tub used for slaughtering swine, +employed "a batting-staff, used for batting +of coarse linen," as an oar, put his +servant in the tub, his horse swimming +by him, and once across left the tub in +charge of the man while he rode to the +king, delivered his message and returned +to cross over the same way.</p> + +<p><a name="Page_403" id="Page_403"><span class="pagenum">Page 403</span></a></p> + +<p><a name="listlink11" id="listlink11"></a></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 346px;"><a href="images/img11.jpg"> +<img src="images/img11_th.jpg" width="346" height="400" alt="Coracles." title="Coracles." /></a> +<span class="caption">Coracles.</span> +</div> + +<p><a name="listlink12" id="listlink12"></a></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 246px;"><a href="images/img12.jpg"> +<img src="images/img12_th.jpg" width="246" height="400" alt="Chester Cathedral And City Wall." title="Chester Cathedral And City Wall." /></a> +<span class="caption">Chester Cathedral And City Wall.</span> +</div> + +<p>Eaton and Wynnestay are the grandest +of the Dee country-seats, though not +the most interesting as to architecture. +The former, like many Italian houses, +has its park open to the public, and is +an exception to the jealously-guarded +places in most parts of England, but its +avenues, rather formal though very magnificent, +are approached by lodges. The +Wrexham avenue leads to a farmhouse +called Belgrave, and here is the christening-point +of the new, fashionable +London of society, of novelists and of +contractors. Another like avenue leads +to Pulford, where there is another lodge: +a third leads from Grosvenor Bridge to +the deer-park, and a fourth to the village +of Aldford. The hall is an immense pile, +strikingly like, at first glance, the Houses +of Parliament, with the Victoria Tower +(this in the hall is one hundred and +seventy feet high, and built above the +chapel), and the style is sixteenth-century +French, florid and costly. +The plan is perhaps unique in +England, and comfort has been +attained, though one would hardly +believe it, such size seeming to +swamp everything except show. +The description of the house, as +given by a visitor there, reads +like that of a palace: "The hall +is an octagonal room in the centre +of the house about seventy-five +feet in length and from thirty to +forty broad: on each side, at the +end farthest from the entrance, are +two doors leading into anterooms—one +the ante-drawing-room, and +the other the ante-dining-room; +each is lighted by three large windows, +and is thirty-three feet in +length: they are fine rooms in +themselves, and well-proportioned. +From these lead the drawing-room +and the dining-room respectively, +both exceedingly grand rooms, ingenious +in design and shape, each with two +oriel windows and lighted by three others +and a large bay window: this suite completes +the east side. The south is occupied +by the end of the drawing-room and +a vast library—all <i>en suite</i>. The library +is lighted by four bay windows, three flat +ones and a fine alcove, and the rest of +the main building to the west is made up +of billiard- and smoking-rooms, waiting-hall, +groom-of-chambers' sitting- and +bed-rooms, and a carpet-room, besides +the necessary staircases. This completes +the main building, and a corridor leads +to the kitchen and cook's offices: this +<a name="Page_404" id="Page_404"><span class="pagenum">Page 404</span></a>corridor, which passes over the upper +part of the kitchen, branches off into two +parts—one leading to an excellently-planned +mansion for the family and the +private secretary, and another leading +to the stables, which are arranged with +great skill. The pony stable, the carriage-horse +stable, the riding horses, occupy +different sides, and through these +are arranged, just in the right places, +the rooms for livery and saddle grooms +and coachmen. The laundry, wash-house, +gun-room and game-larder occupy +another building, which, however, +is easily approached, and the whole +building, though it extends seven hundred +feet in length, is a perfect model of +compactness. Great facilities are given +to any one who desires to see it." The +mention of a "mansion for the family" +shows how the associations of a home are +lost in this wilderness of magnificence: +indeed, I remember a remark of a person +whose husband had three or four +country-houses in England and Scotland +and a house in London, that "she never +felt at home anywhere."</p> + +<p>The farms in this neighborhood are +mostly small, the average being seventy +acres, and some are still smaller, though +when one gets down to ten, one is tempted +to call them gardens. Grazing and +dairy-work are the chief industries. +Farther inland, beyond the manufacturing +town of Stockport, is a house of the +Leghs, an immense building, more imposing +than lovely in its exterior, but +one of the most individual and pleasant +houses in its interior as well as in its +human associations. It has been altered +at various times, and bears traces, like a +corrected map, of each new phase of +architecture for several hundred years. +The four sides form a huge quadrangle, +entered by foreign-looking gateways, and +the rooms all open into a wide passage +that runs round three sides of the building, +and is a museum in itself. Old and +new are just enough blended to produce +comfort, and the stately, old-English look +of the drawing-room, with its dark panelling +and tapestry, is a reproach to the +pink-and-white, plaster-of-Paris style of +too many remodelled houses. Outside +there is a garden distinguished by a heavy +old wall overrun with creepers, dividing +two levels and making a striking object +in the landscape; and beyond that, where +the country grows bleak and begins to +remind one of moors, there are the last +survivors of a unique breed of wild +cattle, which, like the mastiffs at the +house, bear the name of the place. The +name of another Cheshire house, formerly +belonging to the Stanleys, and now +to Mr. Gladstone, is probably familiar to +American readers—Hawarden Castle. +The present house must trust entirely to +associations for its interest, having been +built in 1809, before much taste was applied +to restore old places, but the old +castle in the park dates from the middle +of the thirteenth century. The park is +not unlike that of Arundel, but the views +from the ruin are finer and more varied. +The counties of Caernarvon, Denbigh, +Flint, Cheshire and Lancashire are spread +out around it, and the ruin itself is beautiful +and extensive.</p> + +<p><a name="listlink13" id="listlink13"></a></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"><a href="images/img13.jpg"> +<img src="images/img13_th.jpg" width="400" height="301" alt="Overton Church." title="Overton Church." /></a> +<span class="caption">Overton Church.</span> +</div> + +<p>The road from Hawarden to Boughton +is exceedingly grand: we come upon one +of the widest panoramas of the Dee and +one of the most typical of English country +scenes. A vast sweep of country unsurpassed +in richness spreads along the +river on the Cheshire side: sixty square +miles of fields and pastures are in sight, +with elms, sycamores and formal rows +of Lombardy poplars. Wherever the +trees cluster in a grove they usually mark +the site of a country-house or a cherished +ruin, like this one of old Hawarden, +where one enormous oak tree sweeps its +branches on the ground on every side, +and forms a canopy whence you can +peer out, as through the delicate tracery +of a Gothic window, at the landscape +beyond. The mouth of the Dee is visible +from this road, whence at low water +it seems reduced to a huge sandbank, +through which the tired river trickles +like a brook. The dun sky and yellow +sands and gray sea, with the island of +Hilbree, a counterpart of Lindisfarne +both in its legend of a recluse and its +continual alternation twice a day between +the state of an island and a peninsula, +make a picture pleasant to look +<a name="Page_405" id="Page_405"><span class="pagenum">Page 405</span></a>back upon. Hence too come the shoals +of cockles and mussels that go to delight +Londoners. Then the open-sea fishing, +the lithe boats that seem all sail, the wide +waste of waters, with the point of Air +and the Great Orme's Head walling it in +on the receding Welsh coasts, the remembrance +of the shipwreck a little beyond +the mouth of the Dee which led to Milton's +poem of <i>Lycidas</i> (containing the +phrase "wizard stream" which has become +peculiar to the Dee),—all claim our +notice, and it seems impossible that we +are so few miles from Manchester and +so far from the historic, romantic times +of old.</p> + +<p class="author">Lady Blanche Murphy.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="For_Another" id="For_Another"></a>For Another.</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sweet—sweet? My child, some sweeter word than sweet,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Some lovelier word than love, I want for you.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who says the world is bitter, while your feet<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Are left among the lilies and the dew?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah? So some other has, this night, to fold<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Such hands as his, and drop some precious head<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From off her breast as full of baby-gold?<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I, for her grief, will not be comforted.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="author">S.M.B. Piatt.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_406" id="Page_406"><span class="pagenum">Page 406</span></a></p> +<h2><a name="Among_The_Kabyles" id="Among_The_Kabyles"></a>Among The Kabyles.</h2> + +<h3>Concluding Paper.</h3> + +<p><a name="listlink14" id="listlink14"></a></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"><a href="images/img14.jpg"> +<img src="images/img14_th.jpg" width="400" height="220" alt="Roman Sepulchre At Taksebt." title="Roman Sepulchre At Taksebt." /></a> +<span class="caption">Roman Sepulchre At Taksebt.</span> +</div> + + +<p>Few countries twenty-five leagues +long by ten wide have such an assortment +of climates as Grand Kabylia. +From the Mediterranean on the north to +the Djurjura range on the south, a distance +of two hours' ride by rail if there +were a railway, the ascent is equal to +that from New York Bay to the summit +of Mount Washington. The palm is at +home on the shore, while snow is preserved +through the summer in the hollows +of the peaks. This epitome of the +zones is more condensed than that so +often remarked upon on the eastern +slope of Mexico, although it does not +embrace such extremes of temperature +as those presented by Vera Cruz and the +uppermost third of Orizaba. The country +being more broken, the lower and +higher levels are brought at many points +more closely together than on the Mexican +ascent. It happens thus that semi-tropical +and semi-arctic plants come not +simply into one and the same landscape, +but into actual contact. Each hill is a +miniature Orizaba, so far as it rises, and +hundreds of abrupt hills collected in a +space comparatively so limited so dovetail +the floras of different levels as in a +degree to cause them to coalesce and effect +a certain mutual adaptation of habits. +Good neighborhood has established +itself rather more completely among the +vegetable than with the human part of +the inhabitants.</p> + +<p>What more amiable example of give-and-take +than the intertwining of birch +and orange, the thin ghostly sprays of +the hyperborean caressing the fragrant +leaf and golden globes of the sub-tropical? +This, and other conjunctions less +eloquent of contrast, may be seen on the +headland of Zeffoun or Cape Corbelin. +They stand out from a prevailing background +of the familiar forest trees of temperate +Europe and America—the ash, +elm, beech, oak, fir and walnut. The +orchards, above those of oranges and +lemons, are of figs and olives. The cork-oak +covers considerable tracts, but is less +attended to than in Spain. A non-European +aspect is imparted by the tufts of +cactus and aloes which abound in the +most arid localities.</p> + +<p><a name="listlink15" id="listlink15"></a></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"><a href="images/img15.jpg"> +<img src="images/img15_th.jpg" width="400" height="143" alt="The Djurjura Range." title="The Djurjura Range." /></a> +<span class="caption">The Djurjura Range.</span> +</div> + +<p>Wherever intelligent farming is met +with in Northern Africa it is a safe assertion +<a name="Page_407" id="Page_407"><span class="pagenum">Page 407</span></a>that the Kabyles are +either on the spot or not +far off. Like other farmers, +they are conservative +and adhere to old rules +or fancies, which in some +cases verge upon superstition. +The practice of fertilizing +fig trees by hanging +them with fruits of the +wild fig is one of those +which it is difficult to class—whether +with the visionary +or the practical. Be +that as it may, people who +know nothing about figs +except to eat them have +no right to a say in the +matter. Tradition and experience +are in favor of +the Kabyle. He does what +has been done since Aristotle, +Theophrastus and +Pliny, all of whom insist +on "caprification" as essential +to a large crop +of figs adapted to drying. +He will go or send many +miles to procure the wild +fruit if it does not grow in +his neighborhood, and the +traffic in it reaches a value +of some thousands of dollars +annually, trains of +thirty, fifty and sixty mule-loads +passing from one +tribe to another. As with +other valuable things, this +inedible fruit is food for +quarrelling. The tribe +which is rich in the <i>dokhar</i>, +or wild fig, is fortunate, and +especially so if its neighbors +have none or if their +crop of it fails. It is then +able to "bull the market," +and proceeds to do so with +a promptness and vim +that would turn a Wall +street operator blue with +envy. But it is compelled +to take account of troubles +in its path unknown at the +Board. The party who is +<a name="Page_408" id="Page_408"><span class="pagenum">Page 408</span></a>"short" on dokhar may be "long" on +matchlocks. If so, the speculation is apt +to come to an unhappy end. A sudden +raid will capture the stock and at once +equalize the market. To many communities +figs are at once meat and pocket-money. +To lose the harvest is not to be +thought of. The aspect +of the means of +preventing such a disaster +is altogether a +secondary consideration. +Dokhar at all +hazards is the cry of +men, women and children. +The comparative +cessation of fig-wars +is one of the +blessings due to +French rule.</p> + +<p><a name="listlink16" id="listlink16"></a></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"><a href="images/img16.jpg"> +<img src="images/img16_th.jpg" width="400" height="181" alt="Road Across The Djurjura At Mount Tirourda." title="Road Across The Djurjura At Mount Tirourda." /></a> +<span class="caption">Road Across The Djurjura At Mount Tirourda.</span> +</div> + +<p>What we deem the +fruit of the fig is, it +will be remembered, +only the husk, the apparent +seeds being the +true fruit and—before +ripening—the blossom. +A small fly establishes +itself in the +interior of the wild fig, +escaping in great +numbers when the +fruit is ripe. This +happens before the +ripening of the improved +fig, and the +fly is supposed to carry +the wild pollen to +the flowers of the latter. +A single insect, +say the Kabyles, will +perfect ninety-nine +figs, the hundredth +becoming its tomb. +Some varieties of figs +do not need caprification, +but they are said +to be unsuitable for +drying or shipment.</p> + +<p>The Italian practice +of touching the eye of +each fig, while yet on +the tree, with a drop +of olive oil seems opposed +to the African +plan; since the oil +would certainly exclude the insect. And +there are no better figs in the world than +those of the Southern States of the Union, +<a name="Page_409" id="Page_409"><span class="pagenum">Page 409</span></a>which are not treated in either way, and +receive the least possible cultivation of +any kind. Those States, if it be true +that the difference in +the yield of a "caprified" +and non-caprified +tree is that between +two hundred +and eighty and twenty-five +pounds, cannot +do better than +borrow a leaf from +the Kabyle book, +should it only be a +fig-leaf to aid in clothing +the nakedness of +bare sands and galled +hillsides. The United +States Department of +Agriculture should by +all means introduce +the dokhar. Some of +our agricultural machinery +would be an +exchange in the highest +degree beneficial +to the other side.</p> + +<p><a name="listlink17" id="listlink17"></a></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"><a href="images/img17.jpg"> +<img src="images/img17_th.jpg" width="400" height="185" alt="The Peak Of Tirourda." title="The Peak Of Tirourda." /></a> +<span class="caption">The Peak Of Tirourda.</span> +</div> + +<p>Long before the +French occupation the +Kabyles had maintained +a regulation +which is, we believe, +peculiar in Europe to +France—the <i>ban</i>, or +legally-established +day for the beginning +of the vintage and the +harvest of other fruits. +The cultivator may +repose under his own +vine and fig tree, but +he shall not until the +word is given by the +proper authority put +forth his hand to pluck +its luscious boon, +though perfectly mature +or past maturity. +Exceptions are made +in case of invalids and +distinguished guests, +and doubtless the +hale schoolboy decrees an occasional +dispensation in his own favor. The +birds share his defiance of the law, and +both are abetted by a third group of +transgressors, the monkeys.</p> + +<p>Africans of this last-named race are +in some localities extremely numerous, +<a name="Page_410" id="Page_410"><span class="pagenum">Page 410</span></a>and they do not restrict their foraging +parties to succulent food. Grain is very +acceptable to them, and has the advantage +of keeping better than fruit, the art of +drying which they have not yet mastered +any more than the Bushmen or the Pi-Utes. +They establish granaries in the +crevices of the rocks; and these reserves +of provision are sometimes of such magnitude +as to make exploring expeditions +on the part of the plundered Kabyles +quite remunerative.</p> + +<p><a name="listlink18" id="listlink18"></a></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"><a href="images/img18.jpg"> +<img src="images/img18_th.jpg" width="400" height="280" alt="Djema-sahridj." title="Djema-sahridj." /></a> +<span class="caption">Djema-sahridj.</span> +</div> + +<p>These most ancient of all the devastators +which have successively descended +upon Barbary are baboons of small +size. They have no tails, that ancestral +organ having dwindled to a wart +the size of a pea. This approach to the +form of man is aided by another point +of personal resemblance—long whiskers. +That the tail should have been worn off +against the rocks, or in climbing the +fences to get at orchards and melon-patches, +is easily conceivable. How the +evolutionists account for the retention of +the beard does not yet appear. The females +carry their young as adroitly and +carefully as do the Kabyle women, and +ascend the rocks with them with much +greater activity. A young monkey has +a less neglected look than a young Kabyle. +His ablutions cannot be less frequent. +Tourists complain that all Kabylia +does not boast a single bath-house—a +privation the more striking to one +who has to pick his way often for miles +among the ruins of Roman aqueducts, +tanks and baths, the great basin in cut +stone at Djema-Sahridj, which gives +name to the place, being a noted example +of these works.</p> + +<p><a name="listlink19" id="listlink19"></a></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"><a href="images/img19.jpg"> +<img src="images/img19_th.jpg" width="400" height="265" alt="A Dish-factory." title="A Dish-factory." /></a> +<span class="caption">A Dish-factory.</span> +</div> + +<p>As the vultures, dogs, negroes, Jews +and jackals keep exact memoranda of +the market-days, so the baboons are always +on hand at harvest. Ranged in +long ranks on an amphitheatre of cliffs, +stroking gravely their long white beards +like so many reverend <i>episcopi</i> or "on-lookers" +confident of their tithes, they +calmly contemplate the toilers in the +vale below. Swift was not more certain +of his "tithe-pig and mortuary guinea." +Sunset comes sooner below than above. +The reapers are early home, and the +peaks are still purple when the marauders +pour down upon the fields, and their +<a name="Page_411" id="Page_411"><span class="pagenum">Page 411</span></a>share of the work is done with a neatness +unsurpassable by reiver, ritter or +kateran. The monkey-tax thus collected +is quite a calculable percentage of the +crop, and few taxes are more regularly +paid. As it goes to non-producers, its +reduction is an object constantly kept in +view. The wretched guns of the natives +are, however, but a feeble instrument of +reform. The chassepot may succeed +<a name="Page_412" id="Page_412"><span class="pagenum">Page 412</span></a>after having finished the rest of its task, +and dispose of the baboons after the settlement +of the men. The former, though +not incomparably smaller than the French +conscript after a protracted war, will never +be made to bear arms. He is therefore +useless to modern statesmen, and +needs to be got rid of.</p> + +<p>While the barn is defrauded by these +little vegetarians, the barnyard is laid +under tribute by a family of equally unauthorized +flesh-eaters—the panthers. If +this large spotted cat, known in other +parts of the world as ounce, jaguar, leopard +and chetah, has any choice of diet, +it is for veal. But his appreciation of +kid is none the less lively. Lamb, in +season, comes well to him also. As +there are many panthers, each of them +of "unbounded stomach," and they can +find little to eat in the way of wild quadrupeds, +the destruction they must cause +among domestic animals is seen to be +serious. In the Mokuéa neighborhood +each village has its panther-killer, an enterprising +man set apart for a profession +which sometimes becomes hereditary. +One of these boasts of having killed +thirty-six panthers. His father before +him had bagged seventy-five, and he +hoped before pulling his final trigger to +have done as well. This expectation +was a just one, as at twenty-eight he had +already nearly halved the paternal count. +The method of hunting is very simple. +The sportsman fixes a bleating little victim +from the herd at the foot of a tree, +and climbs with his flint gun into the +branches. Had the North African beast +the arboreal habits of the South African +tree-leopard or the American jaguar, this +proceeding would be less effectual with +him. But he can neither climb nor reflect +like his countryman the monkey, +and is picked off like a beef. One finds +it difficult to get up sympathy for an animal +so little able to take care of himself, +or to suppose that panthers could have +furnished a particularly high-spiced ingredient +to the enjoyments of the Roman +arena. An English bull-dog, if less +picturesque, would have been far more +fruitful of fighting.</p> + +<p>Products edible neither to the wild +beast nor the tooth of time are the Kabyle +vases in clay. The amphoræ in +common use by the women for carrying +water are generally of graceful forms, +comparing well in design with many of +the archaic vases of Greece and the Levant. +The patterns vary somewhat with +the locality, but there is a resemblance +which speaks of a common origin and +taste. Those of the Beni-Raten all come +to a blunt point at the bottom, and will +not stand unsupported. The jar is made +to rest upon the girdle of the bearer, +while she supports it upon her back by +one or both of the handles. Among the +tribes nearer the Djurjura the jar has a +broader and hollowed bottom, fitted to +rest upon the head of the woman. It +must therefore be less elongated and +more rotund to admit of her reaching +the handles for the purpose of balancing +it. These jars weigh, filled with water, +sixty pounds. In carrying one of them +a Kabyle woman, it may easily be supposed, +is not in a condition to study lightness +of step or grace of carriage. Yet +this heavy task, to which she begins to +accustom herself at the age of twelve, +does not appear to injure her figure or +health. Such a result is more often due +to violent and exceptional strains than +to habitual exertion even greater in extent. +The muscles are not less susceptible +of education than the mind. Whatever +brings out the full power of either +without suddenly overtasking is healthy +and beneficial.</p> + +<p>It has been remarked that the most +usual size of the Kabyle water-jar is as +nearly as possible identical with the amphora +kept for a standard measure in the +Capitol at Rome. This coincidence may +well be due rather to a correspondence +in the average strength of the carriers +than to a common system of authorized +measures. In decoration the Kabyle +vases approach the Arabic more than +the Roman style. But the feeling, both +in form and coloring, is decidedly more +artistic than in the similar ware of Northern +Europe.</p> + +<p>Very ancient influences are manifest, +too, in the work of the Kabyle silversmiths. +Their diadems, ear-drops, bracelets +<a name="Page_413" id="Page_413"><span class="pagenum">Page 413</span></a>and anklets remind one of the forms +unearthed at Hissarlik and in Cyprus. +In outline and chasing the rectangular, +mathematical and monumental rules at +the expense of the flowing and floriated. +A certain pre-Phidian stiffness of handling +seems to hamper the workman, as +though twenty-three hundred years had +been lost for him.</p> + +<p><a name="listlink20" id="listlink20"></a></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"><a href="images/img20.jpg"> +<img src="images/img20_th.jpg" width="400" height="268" alt="The Boudoir And Kitchen." title="The Boudoir And Kitchen." /></a> +<span class="caption">The Boudoir And Kitchen.</span> +</div> + +<p>That there should be so much of hopeful +<a name="Page_414" id="Page_414"><span class="pagenum">Page 414</span></a>force left in the Kabyle, artisan, agriculturist +or adventurer, is creditable +to him, and suggests "an original glory +not yet lost." He obstinately refuses to +accept the sheer professional vagabondism +of the Arab, confident, as it were, +that the world has in reserve better use +for him than that. "Day-dawn in Africa" +will probably gild his hills sooner +than the tufted swamps of Guinea or the +slimy huts of the Nile. A class of missionaries +quite different from the Livingstones +and the Moffatts have devoted +themselves to his improvement. They +approach him in a different way, and begin +on his commercial and industrial side, +not on the spiritual. The latter does not +appear to be by any means so accessible. +Unlike the Ashantees, the Kafirs and the +M'pongwe, he was a Christian once, and +may become one again. But he is not +going to be evangelized on the hurrah +system; and that fact his new rulers, +with all their alleged defects as reformers +and colonizers, have sense enough to +recognize. The new faith must push its +way in the rear of works. Peace, good +government, good roads, better implements +and methods of labor will promote +the enlightenment necessary to its +success.</p> + +<p>Bougie, the port of Eastern Kabylia, +lying under Cape Carbon, has one Catholic +church, standing in the midst of new +streets, squares and public constructions +indicative of prosperity wrought by the +French régime. It is still in need of +easy communication with the interior, +having but one road—one more than in +the time of the Turks. Wax is the chief +commodity traversing that line of traffic. +That circumstance has, however, nothing +to do with the name of the town. The +name was there when the French came, +as was the wax, and very little else but +ruins. If the present state of improvement +has been effected with so little aid +from good roads, what would not a number +of them accomplish? A railway running +to the other end of the province longitudinally +through its centre would have but +one ridge to overcome, and would find a +very fair business ready for it. The railway +and vandalism, in the proverbial +sense of the word, could not coexist. +When the Vandals buy railway-tickets +and ship fat oxen on fast stock-trains +the African world will move. Nobody +ever heard of chronic war between two +adjacent railroad-stations, or of a gang +of raiders dressed only in shirts and +armed with spears and matchlocks going +out on the morning mail for a day's shooting +among their fellow-countrymen in the +next county.</p> + +<p>Let us quote a sketch of the region +lying a few leagues west and north-west +of Bougie:</p> + +<p>"Near Tarourt we found thermal +springs. An open park-like country, +beautiful with trees and turf, is defaced +only by charred spots where the cork-woods +have been burned by the natives +to effect clearings much less in extent than +the space thus denuded. Ten acres of +cork trees will be thoughtlessly burned +to make one of fig-orchard. And this +evil rather increases than lessens, prevention +being difficult by reason of the +want of good roads for reaching the +delinquents.... In six hours' march +we reached Toudja, at the foot of Mount +Arbalon, in the most delicious oasis imaginable. +The soil, threaded by clear +and cool rivulets which spring in abundance +from the rocks forming the +base of the mountain, is wonderfully +fertile. We are surrounded by more +than a square league of tufted verdure, +composed in great part of orange and +lemon groves, mingled with some palms +and immense carob trees. The houses +are well built, and even show fancy in +their designs. Vines bending with enormous +clusters of grapes festoon themselves +from tree to tree, tasselling the +topmost branches with fruit and tendrils. +It is not uncommon to see four or five +large trees taken possession of by a single +vine, its trunk as large as the body of a +man. The grapes are mostly of a light-red +color, large and sweet."</p> + +<p><a name="listlink21" id="listlink21"></a></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 272px;"><a href="images/img21.jpg"> +<img src="images/img21_th.jpg" width="272" height="400" alt="Repose." title="Repose." /></a> +<span class="caption">Repose.</span> +</div> + +<p>All this indicates that France did not +deceive herself as to the capabilities of +Algeria, and that her conquest of it was +inspired by considerations more solid +than the glory she has been accused of +recognizing as an all-sufficient motive. +<a name="Page_415" id="Page_415"><span class="pagenum">Page 415</span></a>She has made the country much more +valuable to the commerce of the world +than any other part of Barbary. Had +she done nothing more with it than hold +it prostrate and put an end to its existence +as a den of pirates, she would by +that alone have earned the gratitude of +the nations. She has done a great deal +more. European civilization has discovered +a penetrable spot in the dense armor +<a name="Page_416" id="Page_416"><span class="pagenum">Page 416</span></a>of African barbarism. It has effected a +lodgment in the darkest and most hopeless +of the continents. Should the movement +fail, like so many before it, to extend +itself, and become localized after +a period of promise, the cause must be +sought mainly in natural obstacles almost +impossible to be overcome.</p> + +<p>To have lifted the dead, brutal weight +of Ottoman tyranny from any corner of +the broad territory it blasts is to deserve +well of humanity. Still stronger is the +case when the rescued territory is fertile, +beautiful, and inhabited by a race worthy +of a better fate than the bondage against +which it had never ceased to struggle.</p> + +<p>France has not been guiltless of acts +of severity, always attendant, in a greater +or less degree, on violent political +changes. It is not doubtful, nevertheless, +that by repressing the endless turbulence +of the tribes and driving out a +foreign rule that knew no law but force, +she has saved many more lives than she +has taken. A genius for organization +was never denied her. Organization was +the first thing wanted in Algeria.</p> + +<p class="author">Edward C. Bruce.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="For_Percival" id="For_Percival"></a>"For Percival."</h2> + +<h3>Chapter I.</h3> + +<h4>Thorns And Roses.</h4> + + +<p>It was a long, narrow and rather low +room, with four windows looking out +on a terrace. Jasmine and roses clustered +round them, and flowers lifted their +heads to the broad sills. Within, the +lighted candles showed furniture that +was perhaps a little faded and dim, +though it had a slender, old-fashioned +grace which more than made amends +for any beauty it had lost. There was +much old china, and on the walls were +a few family portraits, of which their +owner was justly proud; and in the air +there lingered a faint fragrance of dried +rose-leaves, delicate yet unconquerable. +Even the full tide of midsummer sweetness +which flowed through the open windows +could not altogether overcome that +subtle memory of summers long gone +by.</p> + +<p>The master of the house, with a face +like a wrinkled waxen mask, sat in his +easy-chair reading the <i>Saturday Review</i>, +and a lady very like him, only with a little +more color and fulness, was knitting +close by. The light shone on the old +man's pale face and white hair, on the +old lady's silver-gray dress and flashing +rings: the knitting-pins clicked, working +up the crimson wool, and the pages of +the paper rustled with a pleasant crispness +as they were turned. By the window, +where the candlelight faded into +the soft shadows, stood a young man apparently +lost in thought. His face, which +was turned a little toward the garden, +was a noteworthy one with its straight +forehead and clearly marked, level brows. +His features were good, and his clear +olive complexion gave him something +of a foreign air. He had no beard, and +his moustache was only a dark shadow +on his upper lip, so that his mouth stood +revealed as one which indicated reserve, +though it was neither stern nor thin-lipped. +Altogether, it was a pleasant face.</p> + +<p>A light step sauntering along the terrace, +a low voice softly singing "Drink +to Me only with Thine Eyes," roused him +from his reverie. He did not move, but +his mouth and eyes relaxed into a smile +as a white figure came out of the dusk +exactly opposite his window, and singer +and song stopped together. "Oh, Percival! +I didn't know you had come out of +the dining-room."</p> + +<p>"Twenty minutes ago. What have +you been doing?"</p> + +<p>"Wandering about the garden. What +could I do on such a perfect night but +<a name="Page_417" id="Page_417"><span class="pagenum">Page 417</span></a>what I have been doing all this perfect +day?"</p> + +<p>She stood looking up at him as she +spoke. She had an arch, beautiful face—the +sort of face which would look well +with patches and powder. Only it would +have been a sin to powder the hair, which, +though deep brown, had rich touches of +gold, as if a happy sunbeam were imprisoned +in its waves. Her eyes were +dark, her lips were softly red: everything +about Sissy Langton's face was +delicate and fine. She lifted her hand +to reach a spray of jasmine just above +her head, and the lace sleeve above fell +back from her pretty, slender wrist: +"Give it to me. Percival! do you hear? +Oh, what a tease you are!" For he +drew it back when she would have gathered +it. Mrs. Middleton was heard +making a remark inside.</p> + +<p>"You don't deserve it," said Percival. +"Here is my aunt saying that the +hot weather makes you scandalously +idle."</p> + +<p>"Scandalously idle! Aunt Harriet!" +Sissy repeated it in incredulous amusement, +and the old lady's indignant disclaimer +was heard: "Percival! Most +unusually idle, I said."</p> + +<p>"Oh! most unusually idle? I beg your +pardon. But doesn't that imply a considerable +amount of idleness to be got +through by one person?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but you helped me," said Sissy.—"Aunt +Harriet, listen. He stood on +my thimble ever so long while he was +talking this afternoon. How can I work +without a thimble?"</p> + +<p>"Impossible!" said Percival. "And I +don't think I can get you another to-morrow: +I am going out. On Thursday +I shall come back and bring you one that +won't fit. Friday you must go with me +to change it. Yes, we shall manage three +days' holiday very nicely."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense! But it <i>is</i> your fault if I +am idle."</p> + +<p>"Why, yes. Having no thimble, you +are naturally unable to finish your book, +for instance."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I sha'n't finish that: I don't like +it. The heroine is so dreadfully strong-minded +I don't believe in her. She never +does anything wrong; and though she +suffers tortures—absolute agony, you +know—she always rises to the occasion—nasty +thing!"</p> + +<p>"A wonderful woman," said Percival, +idly picking sprays of jasmine as he +spoke.</p> + +<p>Sissy's voice sank lower: "Do you +think there are really any women like +that?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, I suppose so."</p> + +<p>She took the flowers which he held +out, and looked doubtfully into his face: +"But—do you <i>like</i> them, Percival?"</p> + +<p>"Make the question a little clearer," +he said. "I don't like your ranting, +pushing, unwomanly women who can +talk of nothing but their rights. They +are very terrible. But heroic women—" +He stopped short. The pause was more +eloquent than speech.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said Sissy, "Well—a woman +like Jael? or Judith?"</p> + +<p>He repeated the name "Judith." "Or +Charlotte Corday?" he suggested after a +moment.</p> + +<p>It was Sissy's turn to hesitate, and she +compressed her pretty lips doubtfully. +Being in the Old Testament, Jael must +of course come out all right, even if one +finds it difficult to like her. Judith's position, +is less clear. Still, it is a great +thing to be in the Apocrypha, and then +living so long ago and so far away makes +a difference. But Charlotte Corday—a +young Frenchwoman, not a century dead, +who murdered a man, and was guillotined +in those horrible revolutionary times,—would +Percival say <i>that</i> was the type of +woman he liked?</p> + +<p>"Well—Charlotte Corday, then?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I admire her," he said slowly. +"Though I would rather the heroism did +not show itself in bloodshed. Still, she +was noble: I honor her. I dare say the +others were too, but I don't know so much +about them."</p> + +<p>"What a poor little thing you must +think me!" said Sissy. "I could never +do anything heroic."</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"I should be frightened. I can't bear +people to be angry with me. I should run +away, or do something silly."</p> +<p><a name="Page_418" id="Page_418"><span class="pagenum">Page 418</span></a></p> +<p>"Then I hope you won't be tried," said +Percival.</p> + +<p>She shook her pretty head: "People +always talk about casting gold into the +furnace, and it's coming out only the +brighter and better. Things are not +good for much if you would rather they +were not tried."</p> + +<p>Her hand was on the window-frame +as she spoke, and the young man touched +a ring she wore: "Gold is tried in the +furnace—yes, but not your pearls. Besides, +I'm not so sure that you would fail +if you were put to the test."</p> + +<p>She smiled, well pleased, yet unconvinced.</p> + +<p>"You think," he went on, "that people +who did great deeds did them without +an effort—were always ready, like a +bow always strung? No, no, Sissy: they +felt very weak sometimes. Isn't there +anything in the world you think you +could die for? Even if you say 'No' +now, there may be something one of +these days."</p> + +<p>The twilight hid the soft glow which +overspread her face. "Anything in the +world you could die for?" Anything? +Anybody? Her blood flowed in a strong, +courageous current as her heart made +answer, "Yes—for one."</p> + +<p>But she did not speak, and after a moment +her companion changed the subject. +"That's a pretty ring," he said.</p> + +<p>Sissy started from her reverie: "Horace +gave it me. Adieu, Mr. Percival +Thorne: I'm going to look at my roses."</p> + +<p>"Thank you. Yes, I shall be delighted +to come." And Percival jumped out. +"Don't look at me as if I'd said something +foolish. Isn't that the right way to answer +your kind invitation?"</p> + +<p>"Invitation! What next?" demanded +Sissy with pretty scorn. And the pair +went off together along the terrace and +into the fragrant dusk.</p> + +<p>A minute later it occurred to Mrs. Middleton +to fear that Sissy might take cold, +and she went to the window to look after +her. But, as no one was to be seen, she +turned away and encountered her brother, +who had been watching them too. +"Do they care for each other?" he asked +abruptly.</p> + +<p>"How can I tell?" Mrs. Middleton replied. +"Of course she is fond of him in +a way, but I can't help fancying sometimes +that Horace—"</p> + +<p>"Horace!" Mr. Thorne's smile was +singularly bland. "Oh, indeed! Horace—a +charming arrangement! Pray +how many more times is Mr. Horace to +supplant that poor boy?" His soft voice +changed suddenly, as one might draw a +sword from its sheath. "Horace had +better not cross Percival's path, or he +will have to deal with me. Is he not +content? What next must he have?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Middleton paused. She could +have answered him. There was an obvious +reply, but it was too crushing to be +used, and Mr. Thorne braved it accordingly.</p> + +<p>"Better leave your grandsons alone, +Godfrey," she said at last, "if you'll take +my advice; which I don't think you ever +did yet. You'll only make mischief. And +there is Sissy to be considered. Let the +child choose for herself."</p> + +<p>"And you think she can choose—<i>Horace?</i>"</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"Choose Horace rather than Percival?"</p> + +<p>"I should," said the old lady with +smiling audacity. "And I would rather +she did. Horace's position is better."</p> + +<p>Mr. Thorne uttered something akin +to a grunt, which might by courtesy be +taken for a groan: "Oh, how mercenary +you women are! Well, if you marry a +man for his money, Horace has the best +of it—if he behaves himself. Yes, I admit +that—<i>if he behaves himself</i>"'</p> + +<p>"And Horace is handsomer," said +Mrs. Middleton with a smile.</p> + +<p>"Pink-and-white prettiness!" scoffed +Mr. Thorne.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" The color mounted to +the old lady's forehead, and she spoke +sharply: "We didn't hear anything about +that when he was a lad, and we were +afraid of something amiss with his lungs: +it would have been high treason to say a +syllable against him then. And now, +though I suppose he will always be a +little delicate (you'd be sorry if you lost +him, Godfrey), it's a shame to talk as if +<a name="Page_419" id="Page_419"><span class="pagenum">Page 419</span></a>the boys were not to be compared. They +are just of a height, not half an inch difference, +and the one as brave and manly +as the other. Horace is fair, and Percival +is dark; and you know, as well as I +do, that Horace is the handsomer."</p> + +<p>Mr. Thorne shifted his ground: "If I +were Sissy I would choose my husband +for qualities that are rather more than +skin-deep."</p> + +<p>"By all means. And still I would +choose Horace."</p> + +<p>"What is amiss with Percival?"</p> + +<p>"He is not so frank and open. I don't +want to say anything against him—I like +Percival—but I wish he were not quite so +reserved."</p> + +<p>"What next?" said Mr. Thorne with a +short laugh. "Why, only this morning +you said he talked more than Horace."</p> + +<p>"Talked? Oh yes, Percival can talk, +and about himself too," said Mrs. Middleton +with a smile. "But he can keep +his secrets all the time. I don't want to +say anything against him: I like him +very much—"</p> + +<p>"No doubt," said Mr. Thorne.</p> + +<p>"But I don't feel quite sure that I know +him. He isn't like Horace. You know +Horace's friends—"</p> + +<p>"Trust me for that."</p> + +<p>"But what do you know of Percival's? +I heard him tell Sissy he would be out to-morrow. +Will you ever know where he +went?"</p> + +<p>"I sha'n't ask him."</p> + +<p>"No," she retorted, "you dare not! +Isn't it a rule that no one is ever to question +Percival?"</p> + +<p>"And while I'm master here it shall be +obeyed. It's the least I can do. The +boy shall come and go, speak or hold his +tongue, as he pleases. No one shall cross +him—Horace least of all—while I'm master +here, Harriet; but that won't be very +long."</p> + +<p>"I don't want you to think any harm +of Percival's silence," she answered gently. +"I don't for one moment suppose +he has any secrets to be ashamed of. I +myself like people to be open, that is +all."</p> + +<p>"If I wanted to know anything Percival +would tell me," said Mr. Thorne.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Middleton's charity was great. +She hid the smile she could not repress. +"Well," she said, "perhaps I am not fair +to Percival, but, Godfrey, you are not +quite just to Horace."</p> + +<p>He turned upon her: "Unjust to Horace? +<i>I?</i>"</p> + +<p>She knew what he meant. He had +shown Horace signal favor, far above +his cousin, yet what she had said was +true. Perhaps some of the injustice had +been in this very favor. "Here are our +truants!" she exclaimed. She and her +brother had not talked so confidentially +for years, but the moment her eyes fell +on Sissy her thoughts went back to the +point at which Mr. Thorne had disturbed +them: "My dearest Sissy, I am so +afraid you will catch cold."</p> + +<p>"It can't be done to-night," said Percival. +"Won't you come and try?" But +the old lady shook her head.</p> + +<p>"All right, auntie! we won't stop out," +said Sissy; and a moment later she made +her appearance in the drawing-room with +her hands full of roses, which she tossed +carelessly on the table. Mr. Thorne had +picked up his paper, and stood turning +the pages and pretending to read, but +she pushed it aside to put a rosebud in +his coat.</p> + +<p>"Roses are more fit for you young +people than for an old fellow like me," +he said, "Why don't you give one to +Percival?"</p> + +<p>She looked over her shoulder at young +Thorne. "Do you want one?" she said.</p> + +<p>He smiled, with a slight movement of +his head and his dark eyes fixed on hers.</p> + +<p>"Then, why didn't you pick one when +we were out? Now, weren't you foolish? +Well, never mind. What color?"</p> + +<p>"Choose for him," said Mr. Thorne.</p> + +<p>Sissy hesitated, looking from Percival's +face to a bud of deepest crimson. Then, +throwing it down, "No, you shall have +yellow," she exclaimed: "Laura Falconer's +complexion is something like yours, +and she always wears yellow. As soon +as one yellow dress is worn out she gets +another."</p> + +<p>"She is a most remarkable young woman +if she waits till the first one is worn +out," said Percival.</p> +<p><a name="Page_420" id="Page_420"><span class="pagenum">Page 420</span></a></p> +<p>"Am I to put your rose in or not?" +Sissy demanded.</p> + +<p>He stepped forward with a smile, and +looked darkly handsome as he stood +there with Sissy putting the yellow rose +in his coat and glancing archly up at +him.</p> + +<p>Mr. Thorne from behind his <i>Saturday +Review</i> watched the girl who might, perhaps, +hold his favorite's future in her +hands. "Does he care for her?" he +wondered. If he did, the old man felt +that he would gladly have knelt to entreat +her, "Be good to my poor Percival." +But did Percival want her to +be good to him? Godfrey Thorne was +altogether in the dark about his grandson's +wishes in the matter. He tried +hard not to think that he was in the +dark about every wish or hope of Percival's, +and he looked up eagerly when +the latter said something about going +out the next day. He remembered which +horse Percival liked, he assented to everything, +but he watched him all the +time with a wistful curiosity. He did +not really care where Percival went, but +he would have given much for such a +word about his plans as would have +proved to Harriet, and to himself too, +that his boy <i>did</i> confide in him sometimes. +It was not to be, however. Young +Thorne had taken up the local paper and +the subject dropped. Mr. Thorne may +have guessed later, but he never knew +where his roan horse went the next day.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>Chapter II.</h3> + +<h4>"Those Eyes Of Yours."</h4> + +<p>Not five miles away that same evening +a conversation was going on which +would have interested Mrs. Middleton.</p> + +<p>The scene was an up-stairs room in a +pleasant house near the county town. +Mrs. Blake, a woman of seven or eight +and forty, handsome and well preserved, +but of a high-colored type, leant back in +an easy-chair lazily unfastening her bracelets, +by way of signifying that she had +begun to prepare for the night. Her two +daughters were with her. Addie, the +elder, was at the looking-glass brushing +her hair and half enveloped in its silky +blackness. She was a tall, graceful girl, +a refined likeness of her mother. On +the rug lay Lottie, three years younger, +hardly more than a growing girl, long-limbed, +slight, a little abrupt and angular +by her sister's side, her features not quite +so regular, her face paler in its cloud of +dark hair. Yet there was a look of determination +and power which was wanting +in Addie; and at times, when Lottie +was roused, her eyes had a dark splendor +which made her sister's beauty seem +comparatively commonplace and tame.</p> + +<p>Stretched at full length, she propped +her chin on her hands and looked up at +her mother. "I don't suppose you care," +she said, in a clear, almost boyish voice.</p> + +<p>"Not much," Mrs. Blake replied with, +a smile. "Especially as I rather doubt +it."</p> + +<p>Addie paused, brush in hand: "I really +think you've made a mistake, Lottie."</p> + +<p>"Do you really? I haven't, though," +said that young lady decidedly.</p> + +<p>"It can't be—surely," Addie hesitated, +with a little shadow on her face.</p> + +<p>"Of course no. Is it likely?" said +Mrs. Blake, as if the discussion were +closed.</p> + +<p>"I tell you," said Lottie stubbornly, +"Godfrey Hammond told me that Percival's +father was the eldest son."</p> + +<p>"But it is Horace who has always lived +at Brackenhill. Percival only goes on a +visit now and then. Every one knows," +said Addie, in almost an injured tone, +"that Horace is the heir."</p> + +<p>Lottie raised her head a little and eyed +her sister intently, with amusement, wonder, +and a little scorn in her glance. +Addie, blissfully unconscious, went on +brushing her hair, still with that look of +anxious perplexity.</p> + +<p>"This is how it was," Lottie exclaimed +suddenly. "Percival was just gone, and +you were talking to Horace. Up comes +Godfrey Hammond, sits down by me, +and says some rubbish about consoling +me. I think I laughed. Then he looked +at me out of his little, light eyes, and +said that you and I seemed to get on +well with his young friends. So I said, +'Oh yes—middling.'"</p> +<p><a name="Page_421" id="Page_421"><span class="pagenum">Page 421</span></a></p> +<p>"Upon my word," smiled Mrs. Blake, +"you appear to have distinguished yourself +in the conversation."</p> + +<p>"Didn't I?" said Lottie, untroubled +and unabashed: "I know it struck me +so at the time. Then he said something—I +forget how he put it—about our being +just the right number and pairing off +charmingly. So I said, 'Oh, of course +the elder ones went together: that was +only right.'"</p> + +<p>"And what did he say?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, he pinched his lips together and +smiled, and said, 'Don't you know that +Percival is the elder?'"</p> + +<p>"But, Lottie, that proves nothing as to +his father."</p> + +<p>"Who supposed it did? I said 'Fiddlededee! +I didn't mean that: I supposed +they were much about the same +age, or if Percy were a month or two +older it made no difference. I meant +that Horace was the eldest son's son, so +of course he was A 1.'"</p> + +<p>"Well?" said Addie.</p> + +<p>"Well, then he looked twice as pleased +with himself as he did before, and said, +'I don't think Horace told you that. It +so happens that Percival is not only the +elder by a month or two, as you say, but +he is the son of the eldest son.' Then I +said 'Oh!' and mamma called me for +something, and I went."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Blake and Addie exchanged +glances.</p> + +<p>"Now, could I have made a mistake?" +demanded Lottie.</p> + +<p>"It seems plain enough, certainly," +her mother allowed.</p> + +<p>"Then, could Godfrey Hammond have +made a mistake? Hasn't he known the +Thornes all their lives? and didn't he say +once that he was named Godfrey after +their old grandfather?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Blake assented.</p> + +<p>"Then," said the girl, relapsing into +her recumbent position, "perhaps you'll +believe me another time."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," said Mrs. Blake: "we'll +see when the other time comes. If it is +as you say, it is curious." She rose as +she spoke and went to the farther end +of the room. As she stood by an open +drawer putting away the ornaments which +she had taken off, the candlelight revealed +a shadow of perplexity on her face +which increased the likeness between +herself and Addie. Apparently, Lottie +was right as to her facts. The estate +was not entailed, then, and despotic +power seemed to be rather capriciously +exercised by the head of the house. If +Horace should displease his grandfather—if, +for instance, he chose a wife of whom +old Mr. Thorne did not approve—would +his position be very secure? Mrs. Blake +was uneasy, and felt that it was very +wrong of people to play tricks with the +succession to an estate like Brackenhill.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, Lottie watched her sister, +who was thoughtfully drawing her fingers +through her long hair. "Addie," she +said, after a pause, "what will you do if +Horace isn't the heir after all?"</p> + +<p>"What a silly question! I shan't do +anything: there's nothing for me to do."</p> + +<p>"But shall you mind very much? You +are very fond of Horace, aren't you?"</p> + +<p>"Fond of him!" Addie repeated. "He +is very pleasant to talk to, if you mean +that."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you can't deceive me so! I believe +that you are in love with him," said +Lottie solemnly.</p> + +<p>The color rushed to Addie's face when +her vaguely tender sentiments, indefinite +as Horace's attentions, were described +in this startling fashion. "Indeed, +I'm nothing of the kind," she said +hurriedly. "Pray don't talk such utter +nonsense, Lottie. If you have nothing +more sensible to say, you had better +hold your tongue."</p> + +<p>"But why are you ashamed of it?" +Lottie persisted: "I wouldn't be." She +had an unsuspected secret herself, but +she would have owned it proudly enough +had she been challenged.</p> + +<p>"I'm not ashamed," said Addie; "and +you know nothing about being in love, so +you had better not talk about it."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, I do!" was the reply, uttered +with Lottie's calm simplicity of manner: +"I know how to tell whether you +are in love or not, Addie. What would +you do if a girl were to win Horace +Thorne away from you?"</p> + +<p>Pride and a sense of propriety dictated +<a name="Page_422" id="Page_422"><span class="pagenum">Page 422</span></a>Addie's answer and gave sharpness to +her voice: "I should say she was perfectly +welcome to him."</p> + +<p>Lottie considered for a moment: "Yes, +I suppose one might <i>say</i> so to her, but +what would you do? Wouldn't you want +to kill her? And wouldn't you die of a +broken heart?"</p> + +<p>Addie was horrified: "I don't want to +kill anybody, and I'm not going to die +for Mr. Horace Thorne. Please don't +say such things, Lottie: people never do. +You forget he is only an acquaintance."</p> + +<p>"No; I don't think you are in love +with him, certainly." Lottie pronounced +this decision with the air of one who has +solved a difficult problem.</p> + +<p>"What are you talking about?" Mrs. +Blake inquired, coming back, and glancing +from Addie's flushed and troubled +face to Lottie's thoughtful eyes.</p> + +<p>"I was asking Addie if she didn't want +Horace to be the heir. I know you do, +mamma—oh, just for his own sake, because +you think he's the nicest, don't +you? I heard you tell him one day "—here +Lottie looked up with a candid gaze +and audaciously imitated Mrs. Blake's +manner—"that though we knew his cousin +<i>first</i>, he—Horace, you know—seemed +to drop <i>so</i> naturally into <i>all</i> our ways +that it was quite <i>delightful</i> to feel that +we needn't stand on <i>any</i> ceremony with +him."</p> + +<p>"Good gracious, Lottie! what do you +mean by listening to every word I say?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't listen—I heard," said Lottie. +"I always do hear when you say your +words as if they had little dashes under +them."</p> + +<p>"Well, Horace Thorne <i>is</i> easier to +get on with than his cousin," said Mrs. +Blake, taking no notice of Lottie's mimicry.</p> + +<p>"There, I said so: mamma would like +it to be Horace. Nobody asks what I +should like—nobody thinks about me and +Percival."</p> + +<p>"Oh, indeed! I wasn't aware," said +Mrs. Blake. "When is that to come +off? I dare say you will look very well +in orange-blossoms and a pinafore!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you think I'm too young, do +you? But a little while ago you were +always saying that I was grown up, and +oughtn't to want any more childish games. +What was I to do?"</p> + +<p>"Upon my word!" exclaimed Mrs. +Blake. "I'll buy you a doll for a birthday +present, to keep you out of mischief."</p> + +<p>"Too late," said Lottie from the rug. +She burst into sudden laughter, loud but +not unmelodious. "What rubbish we are +talking! Seventeen to-morrow, and Addie +is nearly twenty; and sometimes I +think I must be a hundred!"</p> + +<p>"Well, you are talking nonsense now," +Mrs. Blake exclaimed. "Why, you baby! +only last November you would go into +that wet meadow by the rectory to play +trap-and-ball with Robin and Jack. And +such a fuss as there was if one wanted +to make you the least tidy and respectable!"</p> + +<p>"Was that last November?" Lottie +stared thoughtfully into space. "Queer +that last November should be so many +years ago, isn't it? Poor little Cock +Robin! I met him in the lane the day +before he went away. They will keep +him in jackets, and he hates them so! +I laughed at him, and told him to be a +good little boy and mind his book. He +didn't seem to like it, somehow."</p> + +<p>"I dare say he didn't," said Addie, +who had been silently recovering herself: +"there's no mistake about it when +you laugh at any one."</p> + +<p>"There shall be no mistake about anything +I do," Lottie asserted. "I'm going +to bed now." She sprang to her feet and +stood looking at her sister: "What jolly +hair you've got, Addie!"</p> + +<p>"Yours is just as thick, or thicker," said +Addie.</p> + +<p>"Each individual hair is a good deal +thicker, if you mean that. 'Blue-black, +lustrous, thick like horse-hairs!' That's +what Percy quoted to me one day when +I was grumbling, and I said I wasn't sure +he wasn't rude. Addie, are Horace and +Percival fond of each other?"</p> + +<p>"How can I tell? I suppose so."</p> + +<p>"I have my doubts," said Lottie sagely. +"Why should they be? There must +be something queer, you know, or why +doesn't that stupid old man at Brackenhill +<a name="Page_423" id="Page_423"><span class="pagenum">Page 423</span></a>treat Percival as the eldest? Well, +good-night." And Lottie went off, half +saying, half singing, "Who killed Cock +Robin? I, said the Sparrow—with my +bow and arrow." And with a triumphant +outburst of "<i>I</i> killed Cock Robin!" she +banged the door after her.</p> + +<p>There was a pause. Then Addie said, +"Seventeen to-morrow! Mamma, Lottie +really is grown-up now."</p> + +<p>"Is she?" Mrs. Blake replied doubtfully. +"Time she should be, I'm sure."</p> + +<p>Lottie had been a sore trial to her +mother. Addie was pretty as a child, +tolerably presentable even at her most +awkward age, glided gradually into girlhood +and beauty, and finally "came +out" completely to Mrs. Blake's satisfaction. +But Lottie at fifteen or sixteen +was her despair—"Exactly like a great +unruly boy," she lamented. She dashed +through her lessons fairly well, but +the moment she was released she was +unendurable. She whistled, she sang at +the top of her voice, and plunged about +the house in her thick boots, till she +could be off to join the two boys at the +rectory, her dear friends and comrades. +Robin Wingfield, the elder, was her junior +by rather more than a year; and +this advantage, especially as she was tall +and strong for her age, enabled her fully +to hold her own with them. Nor could +Mrs. Blake hinder this friendship, as she +would gladly have done, for her husband +was on Lottie's side.</p> + +<p>"Let the girl alone," he said. "Too +big for this sort of thing? Rubbish! +The milliner's bills will come in quite +soon enough. And what's amiss with +Robin and Jack? Good boys as boys +go, and she's another; and if they like +to scramble over hedges and ditches together, +let them. For Heaven's sake, +Caroline, don't attempt to keep her at +home: she'll certainly drive me crazy +if you do. No one ever banged doors +as Lottie does: she ought to patent the +process. Slams them with a crash which +jars the whole house, and yet manages +not to latch them, and the moment she +is gone they are swinging backward and +forward till I'm almost out of my senses. +Here she comes down stairs, like a thunderbolt.—Lottie, +my dear girl, I'm sure +it's going to be fine: better run out and +look up those Wingfield boys, I think."</p> + +<p>So the trio spent long half-holidays +rambling in the fields; and on these occasions +Lottie might be met, an immense +distance from home, in the shabbiest +clothes and wearing a red cap of Robin's +tossed carelessly on her dark hair. +Percival once encountered them on one +of these expeditions. Lottie's beauty +was still pale and unripe, like those +sheathed buds which will come suddenly +to their glory of blossom, not like +rosebuds which have a loveliness of +their own; but the young man was +struck by the boyish mixture of shyness +and bluntness with which she greeted +him, and attracted by the great eyes +which gazed at him from under Robin's +shabby cap. When he and Horace went +to the Blakes' he amused himself idly +enough with the school-girl, while his +cousin flirted with Addie. He laughed +one day when Mrs. Blake was unusually +troubled about Lottie's apparel, and +said something about "a sweet neglect." +But the soul of Lottie's mamma was not +to be comforted with scraps of poetry. +How could it be, when she had just arraigned +her daughter on the charge of +having her pockets bulging hideously, +and had discovered that those receptacles +overflowed with a miscellaneous assortment +of odds and ends, the accumulations +of weeks, tending to show that +Lottie and Cock Robin, as she called +him, had all things in common? How +could it be, when Lottie was always outgrowing +her garments in the most ungainly +manner, so that her sleeves seemed +to retreat in horror from her wrists +and from her long hands, tanned by sun +and wind, seamed with bramble-scratches +and smeared with school-room ink? Once +Lottie came home with an unmistakable +black eye, for which Robin's cricket-ball +was accountable. Then, indeed, Mrs. +Blake felt that her cup of bitterness was +full to overflowing, though Lottie did assure +her, "You should have seen Jack's +eye last April: his was much more swollen, +and all sorts of colors, than mine." +It was impossible to avoid the conclusion +<a name="Page_424" id="Page_424"><span class="pagenum">Page 424</span></a>that Jack must have been, to say the least +of it, unpleasant to look at. Percival +happened to come to the house just then, +and was tranquilly amused at the good +lady's despair. It was before the Blakes +knew much of Horace, and she had not +yet discovered that Percival's cousin was +so much more friendly than Percival himself; +so she made the latter her confidant. +He recommended a raw beefsteak with +a gravity worthy of a Spanish grandee. +He was not allowed to see Lottie, who +was kept in seclusion as being half culprit, +half invalid, and wholly unpresentable; +but as he was going away the +servant gave him a little note in Lottie's +boyish scrawl:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">Dear Percival</span>: Mamma was cross +with Robin and sent him away do tell +him I'm all right, and he is not to mind +he will be sure to be about somewhere It +is very stupid being shut up here Addie +says she can't go running about giving +messages to boys and Papa said if he +saw him he should certainly punch his +head so please tell him he is not to bother +himself about me I shall soon be all +right."</p></div> + +<p>Percival went away, smiling a little at +his letter and at Lottie herself. Just as +he reached the first of the fields which +were the short cut from the house, he +spied Robin lurking on the other side +of the hedge, with Jack at his heels. He +halted, and called "Robin! Robin Wingfield! +I want to speak to you."</p> + +<p>The boy hesitated: "There's a gate +farther on."</p> + +<p>Coming to the gate, Percival rested his +arms on it and looked at Robin. The +boy was not big for his age, but there +was a good deal of cleverness in his upturned +freckled face. "I've a message +for you," said the young man.</p> + +<p>"From her?" Robin indicated the +Blakes' house with a jerk of his head.</p> + +<p>"Yes. She asked me to tell you that +she is all right, though, of course, she +can't come out at present. She made +sure I should find you somewhere about."</p> + +<p>Robin nodded: "I did try to hear how +she was, but that old dragon—"</p> + +<p>"Meaning my friend Mrs. Blake?" said +young Thorne. "Ah! Hardly civil perhaps, +but forcible."</p> + +<p>"Well—Mrs. Blake, then—caught me +in the shrubbery and pitched into me. +Said I ought to be ashamed of myself. +Supposed I should be satisfied when I'd +broken Lottie's neck. Told me I'd better +not show my face there again."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Percival, "you couldn't +expect Mrs. Blake to be particularly delighted +with your afternoon's work. And, +Wingfield, though I was especially to tell +you that you were not to vex yourself +about it, you really ought to be more +careful. Knocking a young lady's eye +half out—"</p> + +<p>"Young lady!" in a tone of intense +scorn. "Lottie isn't a <i>young lady.</i>"</p> + +<p>"Oh! isn't she?" said Percival.</p> + +<p>"I should think not, indeed!" And +Robin eyed the big young man who was +laughing at him as if he meditated wiping +out the insult to Lottie then and there. +But even with Jack, his sturdy satellite, +to help, it was not to be thought of. +"She's a brick!" said Cock Robin, half +to himself.</p> + +<p>"No doubt," said Percival. "But, as +I was saying, it isn't exactly the way to +treat her.—At least—I don't know: upon +my word, I don't know," he soliloquized. +"Judging by most women's novels, from +<i>Jane Eyre</i> downward, the taste for muscular +bullies prevails. Robin may be the +coming hero—who knows?—and courtship +commencing with a black eye the +future fashion.—Well, Robin, any answer?"</p> + +<p>"Tell her I hope she'll soon be all +right. Shall you see her?"</p> + +<p>"I can see that she gets any message +you want to send."</p> + +<p>Robin groped among his treasures: +"Look here: I brought away her knife +that afternoon. She lent it me. She'd +better have it—it's got four blades—she +may want it, perhaps."</p> + +<p>Percival dropped the formidable instrument +carelessly into his pocket: +"She shall have it. And, Robin, you'd +better not be hanging about here: Lottie +says so. You'll only vex Mrs. Blake."</p> + +<p>"All right!" said the boy, and went off, +with Jack after him.</p> +<p><a name="Page_425" id="Page_425"><span class="pagenum">Page 425</span></a></p> +<p>Percival, who was staying in the neighborhood, +went straight home, tied up a +parcel of books he thought might amuse +Lottie in her imprisonment, and wrote a +note to go with them. He was whistling +softly to himself as he wrote, and, if the +truth be told, had a fair vision floating +before his eyes—a girl of whom Lottie +had reminded him by sheer force of contrast. +Still, he liked Lottie in her way. +He was young enough to enjoy the easy +sense of patronage and superiority which +made the words flow so pleasantly from +his pen. Never had Lottie seemed to +him so utterly a child as immediately +after his talk with her boy-friend.</p> + +<p>"Here are some books," said the hurrying +pen, "which I think you will like +if your eye is not so bad as to prevent +your reading. Robin was keeping his +disconsolate watch close by, as you foretold, +and asked anxiously after you, so I +gave him your message and dismissed +him. He especially charged me to send +you the enclosed—knife I believe he called +it: it looks to me like a whole armory +of deadly weapons—which he seemed to +think would be a comfort to you in your +affliction. I sincerely hope it may prove +so. I was very civil to him, remembering +that I was your ambassador; but if +he isn't a little less rough with you in +future, I shall be tempted to adopt Mr. +Blake's plan if I happen to meet your +friend again. You really mustn't let him +damage those eyes of yours in this reckless +fashion. Mrs. Blake was nearly +heartbroken this morning."</p> + +<p>He sent his parcel off, and speedily +ceased to think of it. And Lottie herself +might have done the same, not caring +much for his books, but for four little +words—"those eyes of yours." Had Percival +written "your eyes," it would have +meant nothing, but "those eyes of yours" +implied notice—nay, admiration. Again +and again she looked at the thick paper, +with the crest at the top and the vigorous +lines of writing below; and again and +again the four words, "those eyes of +yours," seemed to spring into ever-clearer +prominence. She hid the letter away +with a sudden comprehension of the +roughness of her pencil scrawl which it +answered, and began to take pride in +her looks when they least deserved it. +Only a day or two before she had envied +Robin the possession of sight a little keener +than her own, but now she smiled to +think that Percival Thorne would never +have regretted injury to "those eyes of +yours" had she owned Robin's light-gray +orbs.</p> + +<p>Her transformation had begun. The +knife was still a treasure, but she was +ashamed of her delight in it. She +breathed on the shining blades and rubbed +them to brightness again, but she +did it stealthily, with a glance over her +shoulder first. She went rambling with +Robin and Jack, but not when she knew +that Percival Thorne was in the neighborhood. +She was very sure of his absence +on the November day to which +her mother had alluded, when she had +insisted on playing trap-and-ball in the +rectory meadows. Mrs. Blake did not +realize it, but it was almost the last day +of Lottie's old life. At Christmas-time +they were asked to stay for a few days +at a friend's house. There was to be a +dance, and the hostess, being Lottie's +godmother, pointedly included her in +the invitation; so Mrs. Blake and Addie +did what they could to improve their +black sheep's appearance.</p> + +<p>Lottie, dressed for the eventful evening, +was left alone for a moment before +the three went down. She felt shy, dispirited +and sullen. Her ball-dress encumbered +and constrained her. "I hate +it all," she said to herself, beating impatiently +with her foot upon the ground. +Something moving caught her eye: it +was her reflection in a mirror. She +paused and gazed in wonder. Was this +slender girl, arrayed in a cloud of semi-transparent +white, really herself—the Lottie +who only a few days before had raced +Robin Wingfield home across the fields, +had been the first over the gap and +through the ditch into the rectory meadow, +and had rushed away with the November +rain-drops driving in her face? +She gazed on: the transformation had its +charms, after all. But the shadow came +back: "It's no use. Addie's prettier than +I ever shall be: I must be second all my +<a name="Page_426" id="Page_426"><span class="pagenum">Page 426</span></a>life. Second! If I can't be A 1, I'd as +soon be Z 1000! I won't go about to be +a foil to her. I'd ten times rather race +with Robin; and I will too! They sha'n't +coop me up and make a young lady of +me!"</p> + +<p>She caught the flash of her indignant +glance in the glass and paused.</p> + +<p>"<i>Those eyes of yours!</i>"</p> + +<p><i>Must</i> she be second all her life? Had +she not a power and witchery of her own? +Might she not even distance Addie in the +race? "I've more brains than she has," +mused Lottie.</p> + +<p>Her heart was beating fast as they came +down stairs. They had only arrived by +a late train, which gave them just time +to dress; and Mrs. Blake had rather exceeded +the allowance, so that most of +the guests had arrived and the first +quadrille was nearly ended as they came +in. Lottie followed her mother and Addie +as they glided through the crowd, +and when they paused she stood shy and +fierce, casting lowering glances around.</p> + +<p>She heard their hostess say to some +one, "Do let me find you a partner."</p> + +<p>A well-known voice replied, "Not this +time, thank you: I'm going to try to find +one for myself;" and Percival stood before +her, looking, to her girlish fancy, +more of a hero than ever in the evening-dress +which became him well. The perfectly-fitting +gloves, the flower in his coat, +a dozen little things which she could not +define, made her feel uncouth and anxious, +fascinated and frightened, all at once. +Had he greeted her in the patronizing way +in which he had talked to her of old, she +would have been deeply wounded, but he +asked her for the next dance more ceremoniously, +she knew, than Horace would +have asked Addie. Still, she trembled +as they moved off. They had scarcely +met since her note to him. Suppose he +alluded to it, asked after her black eye, +and inquired whether she had derived +any benefit from the beefsteak? Nothing +more natural, and yet if he did Lottie +felt that she should <i>hate</i> him. "I know +I should do something dreadful," she +thought—"scratch his face, and then +burst out crying, most likely. Oh, what +would become of me? I should be +ruined for life! I should have to shut +myself up, never see any one again, and +emigrate with Robin directly he was old +enough."</p> + +<p>Percival did not know his danger, but +he escaped it. The fatal thoughts were +in his mind while Lottie was planning +her disgrace and exile, but he merely +remarked that he liked the first waltz, +and should they start at once or wait a +moment till a couple or two dropped +out?</p> + +<p>"I don't know whether I <i>can</i> waltz," +said Lottie doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"Weren't you over tortured with dancing-lessons?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes. But I've never tried at a +party. Suppose we go bumping up against +everybody, like that fat man and the little +lady in pink—the two who are just +stopping?"</p> + +<p>"I assure you," said Percival gravely, +"that I do not dance at all like that fat +man. And if you dance like the lady in +pink, I shall be more surprised than I +have words to say. Now?"</p> + +<p>They were off. Percival knew that he +waltzed well, and had an idea that Lottie +would prove a good partner. Nor +was he mistaken. She had been fairly +taught, much against her will, had a good +ear for time, and, thanks to many a race +with Robin Wingfield, her energy was +almost terrible. They spun swiftly and +silently round, unwearied while other +couples dropped out of the ranks to rest +and talk. Percival was well pleased. It +is true that he had memories of waltzes +with Sissy Langton of more utter harmony, +of sweeter grace, of delight more +perfect, though far more fleeting. But +Lottie, with her steady swiftness and her +strong young life, had a charm of her +own which he was not slow to recognize. +She would hardly have thanked him for +accurately classifying it, for as she danced +she felt that she had discovered a new +joy. Her old life slipped from her like +a husk. Friendship with Cock Robin +was an evident absurdity. It is true she +was angry with herself that, after fighting +so passionately for freedom, she should +voluntarily bend her proud neck beneath +the yoke. She foresaw that her mother +<a name="Page_427" id="Page_427"><span class="pagenum">Page 427</span></a>and Addie would triumph; she felt that +her bondage to Mrs. Grundy would often +be irksome; but here was the first instalment +of her wages in this long waltz with +Percival. She fancied that the secret of +her pleasure lay in the two words—"with +Percival." In her ignorance she thought +that she was tasting the honeyed fire of +love, when in truth it was the sweetness +of conscious success. Before the last +notes of that enchanted music died away +she had cast her girlish devotion, "half +in a rapture and half in a rage," at her +partner's feet, while he stood beside her +calm and self-possessed. He would +have been astounded, and perhaps almost +disgusted, had he known what was +passing through her mind.</p> + +<p>Love at sixteen is generally only a desire +to be in love, and seeks not so much +a fit as a possible object. Probably Lottie's +passion offered as many assurances +of domestic bliss as could be desired at +her age.</p> + +<p>Percival was dark, foreign-looking and +handsome: he had an interesting air of +reserve, and no apparent need to practise +small economies. His clothes fitted +him extremely well, and at times he had +a way of standing proudly aloof which +was worthy of any hero of romance. No +settled occupation would interfere with +picnics and balls; and, to crown all, had +he not said to her, "Those eyes of yours"? +Were not these ample foundations for +the happiness of thirty or forty years of +marriage?</p> + +<p>Percival, meanwhile, wanted to be +kind to the childish, half-tamed Lottie, +who had attracted his notice in the fields +and trusted him with her generous message +to Robin Wingfield. The girl fancied +herself immensely improved by her +white dress, but had Thorne been a +painter he would have sketched her as +a pale vision of Liberty, with loosely-knotted +hair and dark eyes glowing under +Robin's red cap. He was able coolly +to determine the precise nature of his +pleasure in her society, but he knew that +it was a pleasure. And Lottie, when she +fell asleep that night, clasped a card which +was rendered priceless by the frequent +recurrence of his initials.</p> + +<p>Her passion transformed her. Her +vehement spirit remained, but everything +else was changed. Her old dreams +and longings were cast out by the new. +She laughed with Mrs. Blake and Addie, +but under the laughter she hid her love, +and cherished it in fierce and solitary +silence. Yet even to herself the transformation +seemed so wonderful that she +could hardly believe in it, and acted the +rough girl now and then with the idea +that otherwise they <i>must</i> think her a +consummate actress morning, noon and +night. For some months no great event +marked the record of her unsuspected +passion. It might, perhaps, have run its +course, and died out harmlessly in due +time, but for an unlucky afternoon, about +a week before her birthday, when Percival +uttered some thoughtless words which +woke a tempest of doubt and fear in Lottie's +heart. She did not question his love, +but she caught a glimpse of his pride, and +felt as if a gulf had opened between her +and her dream of happiness.</p> + +<p>Percival was calling at the house on +the eventful day which was destined to +influence Lottie's fate and his own. He +was in a happy mood, well pleased with +things in general, and, after his own fashion, +inclined to be talkative. When visitors +arrived and Addie exclaimed, "Mrs. +Pickering and that boy of hers—oh bother!" +she spoke the feelings of the whole +party; and Percival from his place by +the window looked across at Lottie and +shrugged his shoulders expressively. +Had there been time he would have +tried to escape into the garden with his +girl friend; but as that was impossible, +he resigned himself to his fate and listened +while Mrs. Pickering poured forth +her rapture concerning her son's prospects +to Mrs. Blake. An uncle who was +the head of a great London firm had offered +the young man a situation, with an +implied promise of a share in the business +later. "Such a subject for congratulation!" +the good lady exclaimed, beaming +on her son, who sat silently turning +his hat in his hands and looking very +pink. "Such an opening for William! +Better than having a fortune left him, I +call it, for it is such a thing to have an occupation. +<a name="Page_428" id="Page_428"><span class="pagenum">Page 428</span></a>Every young man should be +brought up to something, in my opinion."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Blake, with a half glance at Addie +and a thought of Horace, suggested +that heirs to landed estates—</p> + +<p>"Well, yes." Mrs. Pickering agreed +with her. Country gentlemen often found +so much to do in looking after their tenants +and making improvements that she +would not say anything about them. But +young men with small incomes and no +profession—she should be sorry if a son +of hers—</p> + +<p>"Like me, for instance," said Percival, +looking up. "I've a small income and +no profession."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Pickering, somewhat confused, +hastened to explain that she meant nothing +personal.</p> + +<p>"Of course not," he said: "I know +that. I only mentioned it because I +think an illustration stamps a thing on +people's memories."</p> + +<p>"But, Percival," Mrs. Blake interposed, +"I must say that in this I agree with Mrs. +Pickering. I do think it would be better +if you had something to do—I do indeed." +She looked at him with an air of affectionate +severity. "I speak as your friend, +you know." (Percival bowed his gratitude.) +"I really think young people +are happier when they have a settled +occupation."</p> + +<p>"I dare say that is true, as a rule," he +said.</p> + +<p>"But you don't think you would be?" +questioned Lottie.</p> + +<p>He turned to her with a smile: "Well, +I doubt it. Of course I don't know how +happy I might be if I had been brought +up to a profession." He glanced through +the open window at the warm loveliness +of June. "At this moment, for instance, +I might have been writing a sermon or +cutting off a man's leg. But, somehow, +I am very well satisfied as I am."</p> + +<p>"Oh, if you mean to make fun of it—" +Mrs. Blake began.</p> + +<p>"But I don't," Percival said quickly. +"I may laugh, but I'm in earnest too. I +have plenty to eat and drink; I can pay +my tailor and still have a little money in +my pocket; I am my own master. Sometimes +I ride—another man's horse: if +not I walk, and am just as well content. +I don't smoke—I don't bet—I have no +expensive tastes. What could money do +for me that I should spend the best years +of my life in slaving for it?"</p> + +<p>"That may be all very well for the +present," said Mrs. Blake.</p> + +<p>"Why not for the future too? Oh, I +have my dream for the future too."</p> + +<p>"And, pray, may one ask what it is?" +said Mrs. Pickering, looking down on +him from the height of William's prosperity.</p> + +<p>"Certainly," he said. "Some day I +shall leave England and travel leisurely +about the Continent. I shall have a sky +over my head compared with which this +blue is misty and pale. I shall gain new +ideas. I shall get grapes and figs and +melons very cheap. There will be a +little too much garlic in my daily life—even +such a destiny as mine must have +its drawbacks—but think of the wonderful +scenery I shall see and the queer, +beautiful out-of-the-way holes and corners +I shall discover! And in years to +come I shall rejoice, without envy, to +hear that Mr. Blake has bought a large +estate and gains prizes for fat cattle, +while my friend here has been knighted +on the occasion of some city demonstration."</p> + +<p>Young Pickering, who had been listening +open-mouthed to the other's fluent +and tranquil speech, reddened at the +allusion to himself and dropped his hat.</p> + +<p>"At that rate you must never marry," +said Mrs. Blake.</p> + +<p>Percival thoughtfully stroked his lip: +"You think I should not find a wife to +share my enjoyment of a small income?"</p> + +<p>"Marry a girl with lots of money, Mr. +Thorne," said the future Sir William, +feeling it incumbent on him to take part +in the conversation.</p> + +<p>"Not I." Percival's glance made the +lad's hot face yet hotter. "That's the +last thing I will do. If a man means to +work, he may marry whom he will. But +if he has made up his mind to be idle, he +is a contemptible cur if he will let his +wife keep him in his idleness." He spoke +very quietly in his soft voice, and leaned +back in his chair.</p> +<p><a name="Page_429" id="Page_429"><span class="pagenum">Page 429</span></a></p> +<p>"Well, then, you must never fall in +love with an heiress," said Mrs. Blake.</p> + +<p>"Or you must work and win her," Lottie +suggested almost in a whisper.</p> + +<p>He smiled, but slightly shook his head +with a look which she fancied meant +"Too late." Mrs. Pickering began to +tell the latest Fordborough scandal, and +the talk drifted into another channel.</p> + +<p>Lottie had listened as she always listened +when Percival spoke, but she had +not attached any peculiar meaning to +his words. But an hour or so later, when +he was gone and she was loitering in the +garden just outside the window, Addie, +who was within, made some remark in +a laughing tone. Lottie did not catch +the words, but Mrs. Blake's reply was distinct +and not to be mistaken: "William +Pickering, indeed! No: with your looks +and your expectations you girls ought to +marry really well." Lottie stood aghast. +They would have money, then? She +had never thought about money. She +would be an heiress? And Percival +would never marry an heiress—he +could not: had he not said so? How +gladly would she have given him every +farthing she possessed! And was her +fortune to be a barrier between them for +ever? Every syllable that he had spoken +was made clear by this revelation, +and rose up before her eyes as a terrible +word of doom. But she was not one to +be easily dismayed, and her first cry was, +"What shall I do?" Lottie's thoughts +turned always to action, not to endurance, +and she was resolved to break +down the barrier, let the cost be what +it might. Her talk with Godfrey Hammond +gave a new interest to her romance +and new strength to her determination. +Since her hero was disinherited and poor, +and she, though rich, would be poor in +all she cared to have if she were parted +from him, might she not tell him so +when she saw him on her birthday? She +thought it would be easier to speak on +the one day when in girlish fashion she +would be queen. She would not think +of her own pride, because his pride was +dear to her. She could not tell what she +would say or do: she only knew that her +birthday should decide her fate. And +her heart was beating fast in hope and +fear the night before when she banged +the door after her and went off to bed, +sublimely ready to renounce the world +for Percival.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>Chapter III.</h3> + +<h4>Dead Men Tell No Tales—Alfred +Thorne's Is Told By The Writer.</h4> + + +<p>Mr. Thorne of Brackenhill was a +miserable man, who went through the +world with a morbidly sensitive spot in +his nature. A touch on it was torture, +and unfortunately the circumstances of +his daily life continually chafed it.</p> + +<p>It was only a common form of selfishness +carried to excess. "I don't want +much," he would have said—truly +enough, for Godfrey Thorne had never +been grasping—"but let it be my own." +He could not enjoy anything unless he +knew that he might waste it if he liked. +The highest good, fettered by any condition, +was in his eyes no good at all. +Brackenhill was dear to him because he +could leave it to whom he would. He +was seventy-six, and had spent his life +in improving his estate, but he prized +nothing about it so much as his right to +give the result of his life's work to the +first beggar he might chance to meet. +It would have made him still happier if +he could have had the power of destroying +Brackenhill utterly, of wiping it off +the face of the earth, in case he could +not find an heir who pleased him, for it +troubled him to think that some man +<i>must</i> have the land after him, whether +he wished it or not.</p> + +<p>Godfrey Hammond had declared that +no one could conceive the exquisite torments +Mr. Thorne would endure if he +owned an estate with a magnificent ruin +on it, some unique and priceless relic of +bygone days. "He should be able to +see it from his window," said Hammond, +"and it should be his, as far as law could +make it, while he should be continually +conscious that in the eyes of all cultivated +men he was merely its guardian. People +should write to the newspapers asserting +boldly that the public had a right +<a name="Page_430" id="Page_430"><span class="pagenum">Page 430</span></a>of free access to it, and old gentlemen +with antiquarian tastes should find a little +gap in a fence, and pen indignant +appeals to the editor demanding to be +immediately informed whether a monument +of national, nay, of world-wide +interest, ought not, for the sake of the +public, to be more carefully protected +from injury. Local archæological societies +should come and read papers in it. +Clergymen, wishing to combine a little +instruction with the pleasures of a school-feast, +should arrive with van-loads of +cheering boys and girls, a troop of ardent +teachers, many calico flags and a brass +band. Artists, keen-eyed and picturesque, +each with his good-humored air +of possessing the place so much more +truly than any mere country gentleman +ever could, should come to gaze and +sketch. Meanwhile, Thorne should remark +about twice a week that of course +he could pull the whole thing down if he +liked; to which every one should smile +assent, recognizing an evident but utterly +unimportant fact. And then," said +Hammond solemnly, "when all the archæologists +were eating and drinking, +enjoying their own theories and picking +holes in their neighbors' discoveries, the +bolt should fall in the shape of an announcement +that Mr. Thorne had sold +the stones as building materials, and that +the workmen had already removed the +most ancient and interesting part. After +which he would go slowly to his grave, +dying of his triumph and a broken heart."</p> + +<p>It was all quite true, though Godfrey +Hammond might have added that all +the execrations of the antiquarians would +hardly have added to the burden of shame +and remorse of which Mr. Thorne would +have felt the weight before the last cart +carried away its load from the trampled +sward; that he would have regretted his +decision every hour of his life; and if by +a miracle he could have found himself +once more with the fatal deed undone, +he would have rejoiced for a moment, +suffered his old torment for a little while, +and then proceeded to do it again.</p> + +<p>For a great part of Mr. Thorne's life +the boast of his power over Brackenhill +had been on his lips more frequently +than the twice a week of which Hammond +talked. Of late years it had not +been so. He had used his power to assure +himself that he possessed it, and +gradually awoke to the consciousness +that he had lost it by thus using it.</p> + +<p>He had had three sons—Maurice, a +fine, high-spirited young fellow; Alfred, +good-looking and good-tempered, but +indolent; James, a slim, sickly lad, who +inherited from his mother a fatal tendency +to decline. She died while he +was a baby, and he was petted from that +time forward. Godfrey Thorne was well +satisfied with Maurice, but was always at +war with his second son, who would not +take orders and hold the family living. +They argued the matter till it was too +late for Alfred to go into the army, the +only career for which he had expressed +any desire; and then Mr. Thorne found +himself face to face with a gentle and +lazy resistance which threatened to be a +match for his own hard obstinacy. Alfred +didn't mind being a farmer. But his father +was troubled about the necessary +capital, and doubted his son's success: +"You will go on after a fashion for a few +years, and then all the money will have +slipped through your fingers. You know +nothing of farming."—"That's true," +said Alfred.—"And you are much too +lazy to learn."—"That's very likely," +said the young man. So Mr. Thorne +looked about him for some more eligible +opening for his troublesome son; and +Alfred meanwhile, with his handsome +face and honest smile, was busy making +love to Sarah Percival, the rector's +daughter.</p> + +<p>The little idyl was the talk of the villagers +before it came to the squire's ears. +When he questioned Alfred the young +man confessed it readily enough. He +loved Miss Percival, and she didn't mind +waiting. Mr. Thorne was not altogether +displeased, for, though his intercourse +with the rector was rather stormy and +uncertain, they happened to be on tolerable +terms just then. Sarah was an only +child, and would have a little money at +Mr. Percival's death, and Alfred was +much more submissive and anxious to +please his father under these altered circumstances. +<a name="Page_431" id="Page_431"><span class="pagenum">Page 431</span></a>The young people were +not to consider themselves engaged, Miss +Percival being only eighteen and Alfred +one-and-twenty. But if they were of the +same mind later, when the latter should +be in a position to marry, it was understood +that neither his father nor Mr. Percival +would oppose it.</p> + +<p>Unluckily, a parochial question arose +near Christmas-time, and the squire and +the clergyman took different views of it. +Mr. Thorne went about the house with +brows like a thunder-cloud, and never +opened his lips to Alfred except to abuse +the rector. "You'll have to choose between +old Percival and me one of these +days," he said more than once. "You'd +better be making up your mind: it will +save time." Alfred was silent. When +the strife was at its height Maurice was +drowned while skating.</p> + +<p>The poor fellow was hardly in his +grave before the storm burst on Alfred's +head. If Mr. Thorne had barely tolerated +the idea of his son's marriage before, +he found it utterly intolerable now; +and the decree went forth that this boyish +folly about Miss Percival must be forgotten. +"I can do as I like with Brackenhill," +said Mr. Thorne: "remember +that." Alfred did remember it. He had +heard it often enough, and his father's +angry eyes gave it an added emphasis. +"I can make an eldest son of James if I +like, and I will if you defy me." But +nothing could shake Alfred. He had +given his word to Miss Percival, and they +loved each other, and he meant to keep +to it. "You don't believe me," his father +thundered: "you think I may talk, +but that I sha'n't do it. Take care!" +There was no trace of any conflict on +Alfred's face: he looked a little dull and +heavy under the bitter storm, but that +was all. "I can't help it, sir," he said, +tracing the pattern of the carpet with +the toe of his boot as he stood: "you +will do as you please, I suppose."—"I +suppose I shall," said Mr. Thorne.</p> + +<p>So Alfred was disinherited. "As well +for this as anything else," he said: "we +couldn't have got on long." He had an +allowance from his father, who declined +to take any further interest in his plans. +He went abroad for a couple of years—a +test which Mr. Percival imposed upon +him that nothing might be done in haste—and +came back, faithful as he went, +to ask for the consent which could no +longer be denied. Mr. Percival had +been presented to a living at some distance +from Brackenhill, and, as there +was a good deal of glebe-land attached +to it, Alfred was able to try his hand at +farming. He did so, with a little loss if +no gain, and they made one household +at the rectory.</p> + +<p>He never seemed to regret Brackenhill. +Sarah—dark, ardent, intense, a +strange contrast to his own fair, handsome +face and placid indolence—absorbed +all his love. Her eager nature could +not rouse him to battle with the world, +but it woke a passionate devotion in his +heart: they were everything to each other, +and were content. When their boy +was born the rector would have named +him Godfrey: at any rate, he urged them +to call him by one of the old family +names which had been borne by bygone +generations of Thornes. But the young +husband was resolved that the child +should be Percival, and Percival only. +"Why prejudice his grandfather against +him for a mere name?" the rector persisted. +But Alfred shook his head. "Percival +means all the happiness of my life," +he said. So the child received his name, +and the fact was announced to Mr. Thorne +in a letter brief and to the point like a +challenge.</p> + +<p>Communications with Brackenhill were +few and far between. From the local +papers Alfred heard of the rejoicings +when James came of age, quickly followed +by the announcement that he had +gone abroad for the winter. Then he +was at home again, and going to marry +Miss Harriet Benham; whereat Alfred +smiled a little. "The governor must +have put his pride in his pocket: old +Benham made his money out of composite +candles, then retired, and has gas +all over the house for fear they should +be mentioned. Harry, as we used to +call her, is the youngest of them—she +must be eight or nine and twenty; fine +girl, hunts—tried it on with poor Maurice +<a name="Page_432" id="Page_432"><span class="pagenum">Page 432</span></a>ages ago. I should think she was about +half as big again as Jim. Well, yes, +perhaps I am exaggerating a little. How +charmed my father must be!—only, of +course, anything to please Jim, and it's +a fine thing to have him married and +settled."</p> + +<p>Alfred read his father's feelings correctly +enough, but Mr. Thorne was almost +repaid for all he had endured when, +in his turn, he was able to write and announce +the birth of a boy for whom the +bells had been set ringing as the heir +of Brackenhill. Jim, with his sick fancies +and querulous conceit, Mrs. James +Thorne, with her coarsely-colored splendor +and imperious ways, faded into the +background now that Horace's little star +had risen.</p> + +<p>The rest may be briefly told. Horace +had a little sister who died, and he himself +could hardly remember his father. +His time was divided between his mother's +house at Brighton and Brackenhill. +He grew slim and tall and handsome—a +Thorne, and not a Benham, as his +grandfather did not fail to note. He was +delicate. "But he will outgrow that," +said Mrs. Middleton, and loved him the +better for the care she had to take of +him. It was principally for his sake that +she was there. She was a widow and +had no children of her own, but when, +at her brother's request, she came to +Brackenhill to make more of a home for +the school-boy, she brought with her a +tiny girl, little Sissy Langton, a great-niece +of her husband's.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, the other boy grew up in +his quiet home, but death came there as +well as to Brackenhill, and seemed to +take the mainspring of the household in +taking Sarah Thorne. Her father pined +for her, and had no pleasure in life except +in her child. Even when the old +man was growing feeble, and it was manifest +to all but the boy that he would not +long be parted from his daughter, it was +a sombre but not an unhappy home for +the child. Something in the shadow +which overhung it, in his grandfather's +weakness and his father's silence, made +him grave and reserved, but he always +felt that he was loved. No playful home-name +was ever bestowed on the little lad, +but it did not matter, for when spoken by +Alfred Thorne no name could be so tender +as Percival.</p> + +<p>The rector's death when the boy was +fifteen broke up the only real home he +was destined to know, for Alfred was +unable to settle down in any place for +any length of time. While his wife and +her father were alive their influence over +him was supreme: he was like the needle +drawn aside by a powerful attraction. +But now that they were gone his thoughts +oscillated a while, and then reverted to +Brackenhill. For himself he was content—he +had made his choice long ago—but +little by little the idea grew up in +his mind that Percival was wronged, for +he, at least, was guiltless. He secretly +regretted the defiant fashion in which +his boy had been christened, and made +a feeble attempt to prove that, after all, +Percy was an old family name. He +succeeded in establishing that a "P. +Thorne" had once existed, who of +course might have been Percy, as he +might have been Peter or Paul; and he +tried to call his son Percy in memory of +this doubtful namesake. But the three +syllables were as dear to the boy as the +white flag to a Bourbon. They identified +him with the mother he dimly remembered, +and proclaimed to all the +world (that is, to his grandfather) that +for her sake he counted Brackenhill well +lost. He triumphed, and his father was +proud to be defeated. To this day +he invariably writes himself "Percival +Thorne."</p> + +<p>Alfred, however, had his way on a +more important point, and educated his +son for no profession, because the head +of the house needed none. Percival acquiesced +willingly enough, without a +thought of the implied protest. He was +indolent, and had little or no ambition. +Since daily bread—and, luckily, rather +more than daily bread, for he was no +ascetic—was secured to him, since books +were many and the world was wide, he +asked nothing better than to study them. +He grew up grave, dreamy and somewhat +solitary in his ways. He seemed +to have inherited something of the rector's +<a name="Page_433" id="Page_433"><span class="pagenum">Page 433</span></a>self-possessed and rather formal +courtesy, and at twenty he looked older +than his age, though his face was as +smooth as a girl's.</p> + +<p>He was not twenty-one, when his father +died suddenly of fever. When the +news reached Brackenhill the old squire +was singularly affected by it. He had +been accustomed to contrast Alfred's +vigorous prime with his own advanced +age, Percival's unbroken health with +Horace's ailing boyhood, and to think +mournfully of the probability that the +old manor-house must go to a stranger +unless he could humble himself to the +son who had defied him. But, old as he +was, he had outlived his son, and he was +dismayed at his isolation. A whole generation +was dead and gone, and the two +lads, who were all that remained of the +Thornes of Brackenhill, stood far away, as +though he stretched his trembling hands +to them across their fathers' graves. He +expressly requested that Percival should +come and see him, and the young man +presented himself in his deep mourning. +Sissy, just sixteen, looked upon him as a +sombre hero of romance, and within two +days of his coming Mrs. Middleton announced +that her brother was "perfectly +infatuated about that boy."</p> + +<p>The evening of his arrival he stood +with his grandfather on the terrace looking +at the wide prospect which lay at +their feet—ample fields and meadows, +and the silvery flash of water through +the willows. Then he turned, folded +his arms and coolly surveyed Brackenhill +itself from end to end. Mr. Thorne +watched him, expecting some word, but +when none came, and Percival's eyes +wandered upward to the soft evening +sky, where a glimmering star hung like +a lamp above the old gray manor-house, +he said, with some amusement, "Well, +and what is your opinion?"</p> + +<p>Percival came down to earth with the +greatest promptitude: "It's a beautiful +place. I'm glad to see it. I like looking +over old houses."</p> + +<p>"Like looking over old houses? As if +it were merely a show! Isn't Brackenhill +more to you than any other old +house?" demanded Mr. Thorne.</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, perhaps," Percival allowed: +"I have heard my father talk of it +of course."</p> + +<p>"Come, come! You are not such an +outsider as all that," said his grandfather.</p> + +<p>The young man smiled a little, but did +not speak.</p> + +<p>"You don't forget you are a Thorne, +I hope?" the other went on. "There are +none too many of us."</p> + +<p>"No," said Percival. "I like the old +house, and I can assure you, sir, that I +am proud of both my names."</p> + +<p>"Well, well! very good names. But +shouldn't you call a man a lucky fellow +if he owned a place like this?"</p> + +<p>"My opinion wouldn't be half as well +worth having as yours," was the reply. +"What do you call yourself, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Do you think I own this place?" +Mr. Thorne inquired.</p> + +<p>"Why, yes—I always supposed so. +Don't you?"</p> + +<p>"No, I don't!" The answer was almost +a snarl. "I'm bailiff, overlooker, +anything you like to call it. My master +is at Oxford, at Christ Church. He won't +read, and he can't row, so he is devoting +his time to learning how to get rid of the +money I am to save up for him. <i>I</i> own +Brackenhill?" He faced abruptly round. +"All that timber is mine, they say; and +if I cut down a stick your aunt Middleton +is at me: 'Think of Horace.' The place +was mortgaged when I came into it. I +pinched and saved—I freed it—for Horace. +Why shouldn't I mortgage it again +if I please—raise money and live royally +till my time comes, eh? They'd all be +at me, dinning 'Horace! Horace!' and +my duty to those who come after me, +into my ears. Look at the drawing-room +furniture!"</p> + +<p>"The prettiest old room I ever saw," +said Percival.</p> + +<p>"Ah! you're right there. But my sister +doesn't think so. It's shabby, she +would tell you. But does she ask me to +furnish it for her? No, no, it isn't worth +while: mine is such a short lease. When +Horace marries and comes into his inheritance, +of course it must be done up. +It would be a pity to waste money about +it now, especially as there's a bit of land +<a name="Page_434" id="Page_434"><span class="pagenum">Page 434</span></a>lies between two farms of mine, and if I +don't go spending a lot in follies, I can +buy it. Think of that! I can buy it—<i>for +Horace!</i>"</p> + +<p>Percival was guarded in his replies to +this and similar outbursts; and Mrs. +Middleton, seeing that he showed no +disposition to toady his grandfather or +to depreciate Horace, told Godfrey Hammond +that, though her brother was so +absurd about him, she thought he seemed +a good sort of young man, after all. +"Time will show," was the answer. Now, +this was depressing, for Godfrey had established +a reputation for great sagacity.</p> + +<p class="center">[TO BE CONTINUED.]</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Abbeys_And_Castles" id="Abbeys_And_Castles"></a>Abbeys And Castles.</h2> + + +<p>It is a frequent reflection with the +stranger in England that the beauty +and interest of the country are private +property, and that to get access to them +a key is always needed. The key may +be large or it may be small, but it must +be something that will turn a lock. Of +the things that charm an American observer +in the land of parks and castles, +I can think of very few that do not come +under this definition of private property. +When I have mentioned the hedgerows +and the churches I have almost exhausted +the list. You can enjoy a hedgerow +from the public road, and I suppose that +even if you are a Dissenter you may enjoy +a Norman abbey from the street. If, +therefore, one talks of anything beautiful +in England, the presumption will be that +it is private; and indeed such is my admiration +of this delightful country that I +feel inclined to say that if one talks of +anything private, the presumption will be +that it is beautiful. Here is something +of a dilemma. If the observer permits +himself to commemorate charming impressions, +he is in danger of giving to +the world the fruits of friendship and +hospitality. If, on the other hand, he +withholds his impression, he lets something +admirable slip away without having +marked its passage, without having +done it proper honor. He ends by mingling +discretion with enthusiasm, and he +says to himself that it is not treating a +country ill to talk of its treasures when +the mention of each connotes, as the +metaphysicians say, an act of private +courtesy.</p> + +<p>The impressions I have in mind in +writing these lines were gathered in a +part of England of which I had not before +had even a traveller's glimpse; but +as to which, after a day or two, I found +myself quite ready to agree with a friend +who lived there, and who knew and loved +it well, when he said very frankly, "I <i>do</i> +believe it is the loveliest corner of the +world!" This was not a dictum to quarrel +about, and while I was in the neighborhood +I was quite of his mind. I felt +that it would not take a great deal to +make me care for it very much as he +cared for it: I had a glimpse of the peculiar +tenderness with which such a +country may be loved. It is a capital +example of the great characteristic of +English scenery—of what I should call +density of feature. There are no waste +details; everything in the landscape is +something particular—has a history, has +played a part, has a value to the imagination. +It is a country of hills and blue +undulations, and, though none of the hills +are high, all of them are interesting—interesting +as such things are interesting in +an old, small country, by a kind of exquisite +modulation, something suggesting +that outline and coloring have been retouched +and refined, as it were, by the +hand of Time. Independently of its castles +and abbeys, the definite relics of the +ages, such a landscape seems historic. +It has human relations, and it is intimately +<a name="Page_435" id="Page_435"><span class="pagenum">Page 435</span></a>conscious of them. That little +speech about the loveliness of his county, +or of his own part of his county, +was made to me by my companion as +we walked up the grassy slope of a hill, +or "edge," as it is called there, from the +crests of which we seemed in an instant +to look away over half of England. Certainly +I should have grown fond of such +a view as that. The "edge" plunged +down suddenly, as if the corresponding +slope on the other side had been excavated, +and one might follow the long +ridge for the space of an afternoon's walk +with this vast, charming prospect before +one's eyes. Looking across an English +county into the next but one is a very +pretty entertainment, the county seeming +by no means so small as might be +supposed. How can a county seem +small in which, from such a vantage-point +as the one I speak of, you see, as +a darker patch across the lighter green, +the twelve thousand acres of Lord So-and-So's +woods? Beyond these are blue +undulations of varying tone, and then +another bosky-looking spot, which you +learn to be about the same amount of +manorial umbrage belonging to Lord +Some-One-Else. And to right and left +of these, in shaded stretches, lie other +estates of equal consequence. It was +therefore not the smallness but the vastness +of the country that struck me, and +I was not at all in the mood of a certain +American who once, in my hearing, burst +out laughing at an English answer to my +inquiry as to whether my interlocutor +often saw Mr. B——. "Oh no," the answer +had been, "we never see him: he +lives away off in the West." It was the +western part of his county our friend +meant, and my American humorist found +matter for infinite jest in his meaning. +"I should as soon think," he declared, +"of saying my western hand and my +eastern."</p> + +<p>I do not think, even, that my disposition +to form a sentimental attachment +for this delightful region—for its hillside +prospect of old red farmhouses lighting +up the dark-green bottoms, of gables and +chimney-tops of great houses peeping +above miles of woodland, and, in the +vague places of the horizon, of far-away +towns and sites that one had always +heard of—was conditioned upon having +"property" in the neighborhood, so +that the little girls in the town should +suddenly drop courtesies to me in the +street; though that too would certainly +have been pleasant. At the same time, +having a little property would without +doubt have made the sentiment stronger. +People who wander about the world +without money have their dreams—dreams +of what they would buy if their +pockets were lined. These dreams are +very apt to have relation to a good estate +in any neighborhood in which the wanderer +happens to find himself. For myself, +I have never been in a country so +unattractive that it did not seem a peculiar +felicity to be able to purchase the +most considerable house it contained. +In New England and other portions +of the United States I have coveted the +large mansion with Greek columns and +a pediment of white-painted timber: in +Italy I should have made proposals for +the yellow-walled villa with statues on +the roof. In England I have rarely gone +so far as to fancy myself in treaty for the +best house, but, short of this, I have never +failed to feel that ideal comfort for the +time would be to call one's self owner +of what is denominated here a "good" +place. Is it that English country life +seems to possess such irresistible charms? +I have not always thought so: I have +sometimes suspected that it is dull; I +have remembered that there is a whole +literature devoted to exposing it (that +of the English novel "of manners"), +and that its recorded occupations and +conversations occasionally strike one as +lacking a certain desirable salt. But, for +all that, when, in the region to which I +allude, my companion spoke of this and +that place being likely sooner or later to +come to the hammer, it seemed as if nothing +could be more delightful than to see +the hammer fall upon an offer made by +one's self. And this in spite of the fact +that the owners of the places in question +would part with them because they could +no longer afford to keep them up. I +found it interesting to learn, in so far as +<a name="Page_436" id="Page_436"><span class="pagenum">Page 436</span></a>was possible, what sort of income was +implied by the possession of country-seats +such as are not in America a concomitant +of even the largest fortunes; +and if in these interrogations I sometimes +heard of a very long rent-roll, on +the other hand I was frequently surprised +at the slenderness of the resources attributed +to people living in the depths of +an oak-studded park. Then, certainly, +English country life seemed to me the +most advantageous thing in the world: +on these terms one would gladly put up +with a little dulness. When I reflected +that there were thousands of people dwelling +in brownstone houses in numbered +streets in New York who were at as great +a cost to make a reputable appearance +in those harsh conditions as some of +the occupants of the grassy estates of +which I had a glimpse, the privileges +of the latter class appeared delightfully +cheap.</p> + +<p>There was one place in particular +of which I said to myself that if I had +the money to buy it, I would simply +walk up to the owner and pour the sum +in sovereigns into his hat. I saw this +place, unfortunately, to small advantage: +I saw it in the rain. But I am rather +glad that fine weather did not meddle +with the affair, for I think that in this +case the irritation of envy would have +been really too acute. It was a rainy +Sunday, and the rain was serious. I had +been in the house all day, for the weather +can best be described by my saying +that it had been deemed an exoneration +from church-going. But in the afternoon, +the prospective interval between +lunch and tea assuming formidable proportions, +my host took me out to walk, +and in the course of our walk he led +me into a park which he described as +"the paradise of a small English country +gentleman." Well it might be: I have +never seen such a collection of oaks. +They were of high antiquity and magnificent +girth and stature: they were strewn +over the grassy levels in extraordinary +profusion, and scattered upon and down +the slopes in a fashion than which I have +seen nothing more charming since I last +looked at the chestnut trees on the banks +of the Lake of Como. It appears that +the place was not very vast, but I was +unable to perceive its limits. Shortly +before we turned into the park the rain +had renewed itself, so that we were awkwardly +wet and muddy; but, being near +the house, my companion proposed to +leave his card in a neighborly way. The +house was most agreeable: it stood on a +kind of terrace in the midst of a lawn +and garden, and the terrace looked down +on one of the handsomest rivers in England, +and across to those blue undulations +of which I have already spoken. +On the terrace also was a piece of ornamental +water, and there was a small iron +paling to divide the lawn from the park. +All this I beheld in the rain. My companion +gave his card to the butler, with +the observation that we were too much +bespattered to come in; and we turned +away to complete our circuit. As we +turned away I became acutely conscious +of what I should have been tempted to +call the cruelty of this proceeding. My +imagination gauged the whole position. +It was a Sunday afternoon, and it was +raining. The house was charming, the +terrace delightful, the oaks magnificent, +the view most interesting. But the whole +thing was—not to repeat the epithet +"dull," of which just now I made too +gross a use—the whole thing was quiet. +In the house was a drawing-room, and +in the drawing-room was—by which I +meant <i>must be</i>—a lady, a charming English +lady. There was, it seemed to me, +no fatuity in believing that on this rainy +Sunday afternoon it would not please +her to be told that two gentlemen had +walked across the country to her door +only to go through the ceremony of +leaving a card. Therefore, when, before +we had gone many yards, I heard the +butler hurrying after us, I felt how just +my sentiment of the situation had been. +Of course we went back, and I carried +my muddy shoes into the drawing-room—just +the drawing-room I had imagined—where +I found—I will not say just the +lady I had imagined, but—a lady even +more charming. Indeed, there were two +ladies, one of whom was staying in the +house. In whatever company you find +<a name="Page_437" id="Page_437"><span class="pagenum">Page 437</span></a>yourself in England, you may always be +sure that some one present is "staying." +I seldom hear this participle now-a-days +without remembering an observation +made to me in France by a lady who +had seen much of English manners: "Ah, +that dreadful word <i>staying!</i> I think we +are so happy in France not to be able to +translate it—not to have any word that +answers to it." The large windows of +the drawing-room I speak of looked away +over the river to the blurred and blotted +hills, where the rain was drizzling and +drifting. It was very quiet: there was +an air of leisure. If one wanted to do +something here, there was evidently +plenty of time—and indeed of every +other appliance—to do it. The two ladies +talked about "town:" that is what +people talk about in the country. If I +were disposed I might represent them +as talking about it with a certain air +of yearning. At all events, I asked myself +how it was possible that one should +live in this charming place and trouble +one's head about what was going on +in London in July. Then we had excellent +tea.</p> + +<p>I have narrated this trifling incident +because there seemed to be some connection +between it and what I was going +to say about the stranger's sense of country +life being the normal, natural, typical +life of the English. In America, however +comfortably people may live in the +country, there is always, relatively speaking, +an air of picnicking about their +establishments. Their habitations, their +arrangements, their appointments, are +more or less provisional. They dine at +different hours from their city hours; +they wear different clothing; they spend +all their time out of doors. The English, +on the other hand, live according to the +same system in Devonshire and in Mayfair—with +the difference, perhaps, that +in Devonshire, where they have people +"staying" with them, the system is rather +more rigidly applied. The picnicking, +if picnicking there is to be, is done +in town. They keep their best things +in the country—their best books, their +best furniture, their best pictures—and +their footing in London is as provisional +as ours is at our "summer retreats." The +English smile a good deal—or rather +would smile a good deal if they had more +observation of it—at the fashion in which +we American burghers stow ourselves +away for July and August in white wooden +boarding-houses beside dusty, ill-made +roads. But it is fair to say that +these improvised homes are not immeasurably +more barbaric than the human +<i>entassement</i> that takes place in London +"apartments" during the months of May +and June. Whoever has had unhappy +occasion to look for lodgings at this period, +and to explore the mysteries of the +little black houses in the West End which +have a neatly-printed card suspended in +the door-light, will admit that from the +obligation to rough it our more luxurious +kinsmen are not altogether exempt. We +rough it, certainly, more than they do, +but we rough it in the country, where +Nature herself is rough, and they rough +it in the heart of the largest and most +splendid of cities. In England, in the +country, Nature as well as civilization is +smooth, and it seems perfectly consistent, +even at midsummer, to dress for dinner; +albeit that when so costumed you cannot +conveniently lie on the grass. But +in England you do not particularly expect +to lie on the grass, especially in the +evening. The aspect of the usual English +country-houses sufficiently indicates +the absence of that informal culture of +the open air into which the American <i>villeggiatura</i> +generally resolves itself; and +one reason why I mentioned just now the +excellent dwelling which I visited in the +rain was that, as I approached it, it struck +me as so good an example of all that, +for American rural purposes, a house +should not be. It was indeed built of +stone, or of brick stuccoed over; which, +as they say in England, is a "great pull." +But except that it was detached and gabled, +it belonged quite to the class of +city houses. Its walls were straight and +bare, and its windows, though wide, were +short. It might have been deposited in +Belgravia without in the least seeming +out of place: it conformed to the rigid +London model. It had no external galleries, +no breezy piazzas, no long windows +<a name="Page_438" id="Page_438"><span class="pagenum">Page 438</span></a>opening upon them, no doors disposed +for propagating draughts. But, indeed, +I have never seen an English house furnished +with what we call a piazza; and +I must add that I have rarely known an +English summer day on which it would +have been convenient to sit in a propagated +draught.</p> + +<p>It seems, however, grossly unthankful +to say that English country-houses lack +anything when one has received delightful +impressions of what they possess. +What is a draughty doorway to an old +Norman portal, massively arched and +quaintly sculptured, across whose hollow +threshold the eye of fancy may see the +ghosts of monks and the shadows of abbots +pass noiselessly to and fro? What +is a paltry piazza to a beautiful ambulatory +of the thirteenth century—a long +stone gallery or cloister repeated in two +stories, with the interstices of its carven +lattice now glazed, but with its long, low, +narrow, charming vista still perfect and +picturesque—with its flags worn away by +monkish sandals, and with huge round-arched +doorways opening from its inner +side into great rooms roofed like cathedrals? +What are the longest French +windows, with the most patented latches, +to narrow casements of almost defensive +aspect set in embrasures three feet deep +and ornamented with little grotesque +mediæval faces? To see one of these +small monkish masks grinning at you +while you dress and undress, or while +you look up in the intervals of inspiration +from your letter-writing, is a simple +detail in the entertainment of living in +an ancient priory. This entertainment +is inexhaustible, for every step you take +in such a house confronts you in one +way or another with the remote past. +You feast upon picturesqueness, you inhale +history. Adjoining the house is a +beautiful ruin, part of the walls and windows +and bases of the piers of the magnificent +church administered by your +predecessor the abbot. These relics are +very desultory, but they are still abundant, +and they testify to the great scale +and the stately beauty of the abbey. +You may lie upon the grass at the base +of an ivied fragment, measure the girth +of the great stumps of the central columns, +half smothered in soft creepers, +and think how strange it is that in this +quiet hollow, in the midst of lonely hills, +so exquisite and elaborate a work of art +should have arisen. It is but an hour's +walk to another great ruin, which has +held together more completely. There +the central tower stands erect to half +its altitude, and the round arches and +massive pillars of the nave make a perfect +vista on the unencumbered turf. +You get an impression that when Catholic +England was in her prime great abbeys +were as thick as milestones. By +native amateurs, even now, the region is +called "wild," though to American eyes +it seems thoroughly suburban in its +smoothness and finish. There is a noiseless +little railway running through the +valley, and there is an ancient little town +at the abbey gates—a town, indeed, with +no great din of vehicles, but with goodly +brick houses, with a dozen "publics," +with tidy, whitewashed cottages, and +with little girls, as I have said, bobbing +courtesies in the street. But even now, +if one had wound one's way into the +valley by the railroad, it would be rather +a surprise to find a small ornamental cathedral +in a spot on the whole so natural +and pastoral. How impressive then must +the beautiful church have been in the +days of its prosperity, when the pilgrim +came down to it from the grassy hillside +and its bells made the stillness sensible! +The abbey was in those days a great +affair: as my companion said, it sprawled +all over the place. As you walk +away from it you think you have got to +the end of its traces, but you encounter +them still in the shape of a rugged outhouse +grand with an Early-English arch, +or an ancient well hidden in a kind of +sculptured cavern. It is noticeable that +even if you are a traveller from a land +where there are no Early-English—and +indeed few Late-English—arches, and +where the well-covers are, at their hoariest, +of fresh-looking shingles, you grow +used with little delay to all this antiquity. +Anything very old seems extremely natural: +there is nothing we accept so implicitly +as the past. It is not too much +<a name="Page_439" id="Page_439"><span class="pagenum">Page 439</span></a>to say that after spending twenty-four +hours in a house that is six hundred years +old, you seem yourself to have lived in +it for six hundred years. You seem yourself +to have hollowed the flags with your +tread and to have polished the oak with +your touch. You walk along the little +stone gallery where the monks used to +pace, looking out of the Gothic window-places +at their beautiful church, and you +pause at the big round, rugged doorway +that admits you to what is now the +drawing-room. The massive step by +which you ascend to the threshold is a +trifle crooked, as it should be: the lintels +are cracked and worn by the myriad-fingered +years. This strikes your casual +glance. You look up and down the +miniature cloister before you pass in: it +seems wonderfully old and queer. Then +you turn into the drawing-room, where +you find modern conversation and late +publications and the prospect of dinner. +The new life and the old have melted +together: there is no dividing-line. In +the drawing-room wall is a queer funnel-shaped +hole, with the broad end inward, +like a small casemate. You ask a lady +what it is, but she doesn't know. It is +something of the monks: it is a mere +detail. After dinner you are told that +there is of course a ghost—a gray friar +who is seen in the dusky hours at the +end of passages. Sometimes the servants +see him, and afterward go surreptitiously +to sleep in the town. Then, +when you take your chamber-candle +and go wandering bedward by a short +cut through empty rooms, you are conscious +of a peculiar sensation which you +hardly know whether to interpret as a +desire to see the gray friar or as an apprehension +that you will see him.</p> + +<p>A friend of mine, an American, who +knew this country, had told me not to +fail, while I was in the neighborhood, to +go to S——. "Edward I. and Elizabeth," +he said, "are still hanging about there." +Thus admonished, I made a point of going +to S——, and I saw quite what my +friend meant. Edward I. and Elizabeth, +indeed, are still to be met almost anywhere +in the county: as regards domestic +architecture, few parts of England are still +more vividly Old English. I have rarely +had, for a couple of hours, the sensation +of dropping back personally into the +past in a higher degree than while I lay +on the grass beside the well in the little +sunny court of this small castle, and idly +appreciated the still definite details of +mediæval life. The place is a capital +example of what the French call a small +<i>gentilhommière</i> of the thirteenth century. +It has a good deep moat, now filled with +wild verdure, and a curious gatehouse of +a much later period—the period when +the defensive attitude had been wellnigh +abandoned. This gatehouse, which is +not in the least in the style of the habitation, +but gabled and heavily timbered, +with quaint cross-beams protruding from +surfaces of coarse white stucco, is a very +picturesque anomaly in regard to the little +gray fortress on the other side of the +court. I call this a fortress, but it is a +fortress which might easily have been +taken, and it must have assumed its +present shape at a time when people +had ceased to peer through narrow slits +at possible besiegers. There are slits in +the outer walls for such peering, but they +are noticeably broad and not particularly +oblique, and might easily have been +applied to the uses of a peaceful parley. +This is part of the charm of the place: +human life there must have lost an earlier +grimness: it was lived in by people +who were beginning to feel comfortable. +They must have lived very much together: +that is one of the most obvious reflections +in the court of a mediæval dwelling. +The court was not always grassy +and empty, as it is now, with only a couple +of gentlemen in search of impressions +lying at their length, one of whom has +taken a wine-flask out of his pocket and +has colored the clear water drawn for +them out of the well in a couple of tumblers +by a decent, rosy, smiling, talking +old woman, who has come bustling out of +the gatehouse, and who has a large, dropsical, +innocent husband standing about +on crutches in the sun and making no +sign when you ask after his health. This +poor man has reached that ultimate depth +of human simplicity at which even a +chance to talk about one's ailments is +<a name="Page_440" id="Page_440"><span class="pagenum">Page 440</span></a>not appreciated. But the civil old woman +talks for every one, even for an +artist who has come out of one of the +rooms, where I see him afterward reproducing +its mouldering quaintness. The +rooms are all unoccupied and in a state +of extreme decay, though the castle is, +as yet, far from being a ruin. From one +of the windows I see a young lady sitting +under a tree across a meadow, with +her knees up, dipping something into her +mouth. It is a camel's hair paint-brush: +the young lady is sketching. These are +the only besiegers to which the place is +exposed now, and they can do no great +harm, as I doubt whether the young +lady's aim is very good. We wandered +about the empty interior, thinking it a +pity things should be falling so to pieces. +There is a beautiful great hall—great, +that is, for a small castle (it would be +extremely handsome in a modern house)—with +tall, ecclesiastical-looking windows, +and a long staircase at one end +climbing against the wall into a spacious +bedroom. You may still apprehend very +well the main lines of that simpler life; +and it must be said that, simpler though +it was, it was apparently by no means destitute +of many of our own conveniences. +The chamber at the top of the staircase +ascending from the hall is charming still, +with its irregular shape, its low-browed +ceiling, its cupboards in the walls, and +its deep bay window formed of a series +of small lattices. You can fancy people +stepping out from it upon the platform +of the staircase, whose rugged wooden +logs, by way of steps, and solid, deeply-guttered +hand-rail, still remain. They +looked down into the hall, where, I take +it, there was always a certain congregation +of retainers, much lounging and +waiting and passing to and fro, with a +door open into the court. The court, +as I said just now, was not the grassy, +æsthetic spot which you may find it at +present of a summer's day: there were +beasts tethered in it, and hustling men-at-arms, +and the earth was trampled into +puddles. But my lord or my lady, looking +down from the chamber-door, could +pick out the man wanted and bawl down +an order, with a threat to fling something +at his head if it were not instantly performed. +The sight of the groups on the +floor beneath, the calling up and down, +the oaken tables spread, and the brazier +in the middle,—all this seemed present +again; and it was not difficult to pursue +the historic vision through the rest of the +building—through the portion which connected +the great hall with the tower (here +the confederate of the sketching young +lady without had set up the peaceful +three-legged engine of his craft); through +the dusky, roughly circular rooms of the +tower itself, and up the corkscrew staircase +of the same to that most charming +part of every old castle, where visions +must leap away off the battlements to +elude you—the sunny, breezy platform +at the tower-top, the place where the +castle-standard hung and the vigilant +inmates surveyed the approaches. Here, +always, you really overtake the impression +of the place—here, in the sunny +stillness, it seems to pause, panting a +little, and give itself up.</p> + +<p>It was not only at Stokesay—I have +written the name at last, and I will not +efface it—that I lingered a while on the +quiet platform of the keep to enjoy the +complete impression so overtaken. I +spent such another half hour at Ludlow, +which is a much grander and more famous +monument. Ludlow, however, is +a ruin—the most impressive and magnificent +of ruins. The charming old town +and the admirable castle form a capital +object of pilgrimage. Ludlow is an excellent +example of a small English provincial +town that has not been soiled and +disfigured by industry: I remember there +no tall chimneys and smoke-streamers, +with their attendant purlieus and slums. +The little city is perched upon a hill near +which the goodly Severn wanders, and +it has a noticeable air of civic dignity. +Its streets are wide and clean, empty +and a little grass-grown, and bordered +with spacious, soberly-ornamental brick +houses, which look as if there had been +more going on in them in the first decade +of the century than there is in the +present, but which can still, nevertheless, +hold up their heads and keep their +window-panes clear, their knockers brilliant +<a name="Page_441" id="Page_441"><span class="pagenum">Page 441</span></a>and their doorsteps whitened. The +place looks as if seventy years ago it had +been the centre of a large provincial society, +and as if that society had been very +"good of its kind." It must have transported +itself to Ludlow for the season—in +rumbling coaches and heavyish curricles—and +there entertained itself in decent +emulation of that metropolis which a +choice of railway-lines had not as yet +placed within its immediate reach. It +had balls at the assembly-rooms; it had +Mrs. Siddons to play; it had Catalani to +sing. Miss Austin's and Miss Edgeworth's +heroines might perfectly well have had +their first love-affair there: a journey +to Ludlow would certainly have been a +great event to Fanny Price or Anne +Eliot, to Helen or Belinda. It is a place +on which a provincial "gentry" has left +a sensible stamp. I have seldom seen +so good a collection of houses of the +period between the elder picturesqueness +and the modern baldness. Such places, +such houses, such relics and intimations, +always carry me back to the near antiquity +of that pre-Victorian England +which it is still easy for a stranger to picture +with a certain vividness, thanks to +the partial survival of many of its characteristics. +It is still easy for a stranger +who has stayed a while in England to +form an idea of the tone, the habits, the +aspect of English social life before its +classic insularity had begun to wane, +as all observers agree that it did, about +thirty years ago. It is true that the mental +operation in this matter reduces itself +to fancying some of the things which +form what Mr. Matthew Arnold would +call the peculiar "notes" of England infinitely +exaggerated—the rigidly aristocratic +constitution of society, for instance; +the unæsthetic temper of the people; the +private character of most kinds of comfort +and entertainment. Let an old gentleman +of conservative tastes, who can +remember the century's youth, talk to +you at a club <i>temporis acti</i>—tell you +wherein it is that from his own point of +view London, as a residence for a gentleman, +has done nothing but fall off for +the last forty years. You will listen, of +course, with an air of decent sympathy, +but privately you will be saying to yourself +how difficult a place of sojourn London +must have been in those days for a +stranger—how little cosmopolitan, how +bound, in a thousand ways, with narrowness +of custom. What is true of the metropolis +at that time is of course doubly +true of the provinces; and a genteel little +city like the one I am speaking of +must have been a kind of focus of insular +propriety. Even then, however, +the irritated alien would have had the +magnificent ruins of the castle to dream +himself back into good-humor in. They +would effectually have transported him +beyond all waning or waxing Philistinisms.</p> + +<p>Ludlow Castle is an example of a +great feudal fortress, as the little castellated +manor I spoke of a while since is +an example of a small one. The great +courtyard at Ludlow is as large as the +central square of a city, but now it is +all vacant and grassy, and the day I was +there a lonely old horse was tethered and +browsing in the middle of it. The place +is in extreme dilapidation, but here and +there some of its more striking features +have held well together, and you may +get a very sufficient notion of the immense +scale upon which things were ordered +in the day of its strength. It must +have been garrisoned with a small army, +and the vast <i>enceinte</i> must have enclosed +a stalwart little world. Such an impression +of thickness and duskiness as one +still gets from fragments of partition and +chamber—such a sense of being well behind +something, well out of the daylight +and its dangers—of the comfort of the +time having been security, and security +incarceration! There are prisons within +the prison—horrible unlighted caverns +of dismal depth, with holes in the roof +through which Heaven knows what +odious refreshment was tossed down to +the poor groping <i>détenu</i>. There is nothing, +surely, that paints one side of the +Middle Ages more vividly than this fact +that fine people lived in the same house +with their prisoners, and kept the key in +their pocket. Fancy the young ladies +of the family working tapestry in their +"bower" with the knowledge that at the +<a name="Page_442" id="Page_442"><span class="pagenum">Page 442</span></a>bottom of the corkscrew staircase one +of their papa's enemies was sitting month +after month in mouldy midnight! But +Ludlow Castle has brighter associations +than these, the chief of which I should +have mentioned at the outset. It was +for a long period the official residence of +the governors—the "lords presidents" +they were called—of the Marches of +Wales, and it was in the days of its +presidential splendor that Milton's <i>Comus</i> +was acted in the great hall. Wandering +about in shady corners of the ruin, +it is the echo of that enchanting verse +that we should try to catch, and not the +faint groans of some encaverned malefactor. +Other verse was also produced +at Ludlow—verse, however, of a less +sonorous quality. A portion of Samuel +Butler's <i>Hudibras</i> was composed there. +Let me add that the traveller who spends +a morning at Ludlow will naturally have +come thither from Shrewsbury, of which +place I have left myself no space to +speak, though it is worth, and well worth, +an allusion. Shrewsbury is a museum +of beautiful old gabled, cross-timbered +house-fronts.</p> + +<p class="author">H. James, Jr.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Little_Lizay" id="Little_Lizay"></a>Little Lizay.</h2> + + +<p>Alston was a Virginia slave—a tall, +well-built half-breed, in whom the +white blood dominated the black. When +about thirty-seven years of age he was +sold to a Mississippi plantation, in the +north-western part of the State and on +the river. The farm was managed by an +overseer, the master—Horton by name—being +a practising physician in Memphis, +Tenn. Alston had been on the plantation +a few weeks when, toward the last +of September, the cotton-picking season +opened. The year had been, for the +river-plantations, exceptionally favorable +for cotton-growing. On the Horton place +especially "the stand" had been pronounced +perfect, there being scarcely a +gap, scarcely a stalk missing from the +mile-long rows of the broad fields. Then, +the rainfall had not been so profuse as to +develop foliage at the bolls' expense, as +was too frequently the case on the river. +Yet it had been plenteous enough to keep +off the "rust," from which the dryer upland +plantations were now suffering. Neither +the "boll-worm" nor the dreaded +"army-worm" had molested the river-fields; +so the tall pyramidal plants were +thickly set with "squares" and green +egg-shaped bolls, smooth and shining +as with varnish. On a single stalk might +be seen all stages of development—from +the ripe, brown boll, parted starlike, with +the long white fleece depending, to the +bean-sized embryo from which the crimson +flower had but just fallen. Indeed, +among the wide-open bolls there was an +occasional flower, cream-hued or crimson +according to its age, for the cotton-bloom +at opening resembles in color the +magnolia-blossom, but this changes quickly +to a deep crimson.</p> + +<p>There was, then, the promise, almost +the certainty, of a heavy crop on the +Horton place. It was in view of this +that the owner completed an arrangement, +for months under consideration, +in which he increased his working plantation-force +by thirteen hands, of whom +one was Alston. It was, too, in view of +this promised heavy crop that the overseer, +Mr. Buck, harangued the slaves at +the opening of the picking-season. The +burden of his harangue was, that no +flagging would be tolerated in cotton-gathering +during the season. The figures +of the past year were on record, +showing what each hand did each day. +There was to be no falling behind these +figures: indeed, they must be beaten, +for the heavier bolling made the picking +easier. Any one falling behind was to +<a name="Page_443" id="Page_443"><span class="pagenum">Page 443</span></a>be cowhided. As for the new hands, +they ought to lead the field, for they were +all young, stout fellows.</p> + +<p>As has been said, Alston was tall, +strong, well-made. Working in tobacco, +to whose culture he had been used, he +could hold his hand with the best: how +would it be in this new business of cotton-picking? +He had a strong element of +cheerful fidelity in his nature. The first +day he worked steadily and as rapidly +as he was able at the unfamiliar employment. +When night came he reckoned +he had done well. With a complacent +feeling he stood waiting his turn as the +great baskets, one after another, were +swung on the steelyard and the weights +announced. He found himself pitying +some of the pickers as light weights were +called, wondering if they had fallen behind +last year's figures. When his basket +was brought forward, it was by Big Sam, +who with one hand swung it lightly to the +scales; yet Alston's thought was, "How +strong Big Sam is!" and never, "How +light the basket!"</p> + +<p>The weight was announced: Alston +was almost stunned. He had strained +every nerve, yet here he was behind the +children-pickers, behind the gray old women +stiff with rheumatism and broken +with childbearing and with doing men's +work.</p> + +<p>"Sixty-three pounds!" the overseer +said with a threatening tone. "Min' yer +git a heap higher'n that ter-morrer, yer +yaller raskel! Ef yer can't pick cotton, +yer'll be sol' down in Louzany to a sugar-plantation, +whar' niggers don't git nothin' +ter eat 'cept cotton-seeds an' a few dreggy +lasses."</p> + +<p>Next to being sent to "the bad place" +itself, the most terrible fate, to the negro's +imagination, was to be sold to a sugar-planter.</p> + +<p>"Here's Big Sam," the overseer continued, +"nigh unto three hunderd; an' Little +Lizay two hunderd an' fawty-seven.—That's +the bigges' figger yer's ever struck +yit, Lizay: shows what yer kin do. Min' +yer come up ter it ter-morrer an' ev'ry +other day."</p> + +<p>"Days gits shawter 'bout Chrismus-time," +Little Lizay ventured to suggest, +"an' it gits col', an' my fingers ain't +limber."</p> + +<p>"Don't give me none yer jaw. Reckon +I knows 'nuff ter make 'lowances fer +col' an' shawt days an' scatterin' bolls +an' sich like."</p> + +<p>The next day, Alston, humiliated by +his failure and by the brutal reprimand +he had received, went to the cotton-field +before any of the other hands—indeed, +before it was fairly light. There he worked +if ever a man did work. When the +other negroes came on the field there +were laughing, talking, singing, nodding +and occasional napping in the shade of +the cotton-stalks. But Alston took no +part in any of these. He had no interest +for anything apart from his work. +At this all his faculties were engaged. +His lithe body was seen swaying from +side to side about the widespreading +branches; he stood on tiptoe to reach +the topmost bolls; he got on his knees to +work the base-limbs, pressing down and +away the long grass with his broad feet, +tearing and holding back even with his +teeth hindering tendrils of the passion-flower +and morning-glory and other +creepers which had escaped the devastating +hoe when the crop was "laid by," +and had made good their hold on occasional +stalks. Persistently he worked in +this intent way all through the hot day, +every muscle in action. He lingered at +the work till after the last of the other +pickers had with great baskets poised on +head joined the long, weird procession, +showing white in the dusk, that went +winding through field and lane to the +ginhouse. On he worked till the crescent +moon came up and he could hardly +discern fleece from leaf. At last, fearing +that the basket-weighing might be +ended before he could reach the ginhouse, +a half mile distant, he emptied +his pick-sack, belted at his waist, into +the tall barrel-like basket, tramped the +cotton with a few movements of his bare +feet, and then kneeling got the basket to +his shoulder: he was not used to the +balancing on head which seemed natural +as breathing to the old hands. With +long strides he hurried to the ginhouse. +He was not a minute too early. Almost +<a name="Page_444" id="Page_444"><span class="pagenum">Page 444</span></a>the last basket had been weighed, emptied +and stacked when he climbed the +ladder-like steps to the scaffold where +the cotton was sunned preparatory to +its ginning. When he had pushed his +way through the crowd of negroes hanging +about the door of the ginhouse-loft +he heard the overseer call, "Whar's that +yaller whelp, Als'on?"</p> + +<p>"Here, sah," Alston answered, hurrying +forward to put his basket on the +steelyard.</p> + +<p>"Give me any mo' yer jaw an' I'll lay +yer out with the butt-en' er this whip," +said Mr. Buck. Alston was wondering +what he had said that was disrespectful, +when the man added, "Won't have none +yer sahrin' uv me. I's yer moster, an' +that's what yer's got ter call me, I let +yer know."</p> + +<p>Alston's blood was up, but the slaves +were used to self-repression. All that +was endurable in their lives depended +on patience and submission.</p> + +<p>"Beg poddon, moster," Alston said +with well-assumed meekness. "In Ol' +Virginny we use ter say moster to jist our +sho'-'nuff owners; but," he added quickly, +by way of mollifying the overseer, +who could not fail to be stung by the +covert jeer, "it's a heap better ter say +moster ter all the white folks, white +trash an' all: then yer's sho' ter be +right."</p> + +<p>At this speech there was in Mr. Buck's +rear much grinning and eye-rolling.</p> + +<p>But Mr. Buck was engaged with Alston's +basket, which was now on the +scales. "Sixty-seven poun's," the overseer +called.</p> + +<p>The slave's heart sank: only four +pounds' gain after all his toil early and +late! He was bitterly disappointed. He +believed the overseer lied. Then his +heart burned. Couldn't he leave his +basket unemptied, and weigh it himself +when the others were gone? No: the +order of routine was peremptory. The +baskets must be emptied and stacked on +the scaffold outside the cotton-loft, so that +there would be no chance the next morning +for the negroes to take away cotton +in their baskets to the fields. And what +if he could reweigh his cotton, and prove +Mr. Buck a liar? He would not dare +breathe the discovery.</p> + +<p>So Alston emptied out the cotton he +had worked so hard to gather, listening +moodily to the overseer's harsh threats: +"Yer reckon I's goin' to stan' sich figgers? +Sixty-seven poun's! fou' poun's +'head uv yistiddy. Yer ought ter be +fawty ahead. I won't look at nothin' +under a hunderd. Ef yer don't get it +ter-morrer I'll tie yer up, sho's yer bawn, +yer great merlatto dog! Yer's 'hin' the +poo'es' gal in the fiel'."</p> + +<p>"I never pick no cotton 'fo' yistiddy, +an' its tolerbul unhandy. Rickon I kin +do better when I gits my han' in. I use ter +could wuck fus'-rate in tobaccy."</p> + +<p>"Tobaccy won't save yer. We hain't +got no use for niggers ef they can't come +up ter the scratch on cotton. I's made +a big crop, an' I ain't goin' ter let it rot +in the fiel'. Yer ought ter pick three +hunderd ev'ry day. I know'd a nigger +onct, a heap littler than Little Lizay, that +picked five hunderd ev'ry lick; an' I +hearn tell uv a feller that went up ter +seven hunderd. I ain't goin' ter take +no mo' sixties from yer: a good hunderd +or the cowhide. That's the talk!"</p> + +<p>"I'll pick all I kin," said Alston: "I +wuckt haud's I could ter-day."</p> + +<p>"Ef yer don't hush yer lyin' mouth +I'll cut yer heart out."</p> + +<p>Alston went from the gin-loft, his blood +tingling. On the sunning-scaffold he encountered +Little Lizay. She had been +listening—had heard all that had passed +between the two men. She went down +the scaffold-steps, and Alston came soon +after. She waited for him, and they walked +to the "quarter" together. "It's +mighty haud, ain't it?" she said.</p> + +<p>"I believe he tol' a lie 'bout my baskit. +Anyhow, I wuckt haud's I could ter-day. +I can't pick no hunderd poun's uv the +flimpsy stuff. He'll have ter cowhide +me: I don't kere."</p> + +<p>But Alston did care keenly—not so +much for the pain; he could bear worse +misery than the brutal arm could inflict, +though the rawhide cut like a dull knife; +but it was the shame, the disgrace, of the +thing. He was a stranger on the place—only +a few weeks there—and to be tied +<a name="Page_445" id="Page_445"><span class="pagenum">Page 445</span></a>up and flogged in the midst of strange, +unsympathizing negroes! it was such +degradation to his manhood. Since he +was a child he had not been struck. +He had been rather a favorite with his +master in Virginia, but this master had +died in debt, leaving numerous heirs, +and in the changes incident to a partition +of the estate Alston was sold.</p> + +<p>Perceiving that he had Little Lizay's +sympathy, Alston went on talking, telling +her that he could stand a lashing coming +from his own master, but that an overseer +was only white trash, who never did +"own a nigger," and never would be +able to. If he had to be flogged, he +wanted it to be by a gentleman.</p> + +<p>"Never min'," said Little Lizay. "Maybe +yer'll git mo' ter-morrer. When yer's +pickin' yer mus' quit stoppin' ter pick +out the leaves an' trash. I lets ev'rything +go in that happens, green bolls +an' all: they weighs heavy."</p> + +<p>The following day, Alston, as before, +went to the cotton-field early, but he +found that Little Lizay had the start of +him. She had already emptied her sack +into her pick-basket. "The cotton we +get now'll weigh heavy," she said: "it's +got dew on it."</p> + +<p>"That's so," Alston assented, "but yer +mus'n't talk ter me, Lizay. I's got ter +put all my min' ter my wuck: I can't foad +ter talk."</p> + +<p>"I can't nuther," said Lizay. "Wish +I didn't pick so much cotton the fus' day: +I's got ter keep on trottin' ter two hunderd +an' fawty-seven."</p> + +<p>She selected two rows beside Alston's. +She wore a coarse dress of uncolored +homespun cotton, of the plainest and +scantiest make, low in the neck, short in +the sleeves and skirt. Her feet and head +were bare. A sack of like material with +her dress was tied about the waist, apron-like. +This was to receive immediately +the pickings from the hand. When filled +it was emptied in a pick-basket, holding +with a little packing fifty or sixty +pounds. This small basket was kept in +the picker's vicinity, being moved forward +whenever the sack was taken back +for emptying. Besides this go-between +pick-basket, there was at that end of the +row nearest the ginhouse an immense +basket, nearly as tall as a barrel, and of +greater circumference, with a capacity +for three hundred pounds.</p> + +<p>Alston's pick-basket stood beside Little +Lizay's, and between his row and hers. +She was carrying two rows to his one, and +he perceived, without looking and with +a vague envy, that Lizay emptied three +sacks at least to his one. Yet she did not +seem to be working half as hard as he +was. With light, graceful movements, +now right, now left, she plucked the white +tufts and the candelabra-like pendants +stretched by the wind and the expanding +lint till the dark seed could be discerned +in clusters.</p> + +<p>It was near nine o'clock when Alston +emptied his first sack, some fifteen +pounds, in the pick-basket, which Little +Lizay had brought forward with her own. +Soon after she went back to empty her +sack. The baskets stood hazardously +near Alston for Lizay's game, but with +her back turned to him and the luxuriant +cotton-stalks between she reckoned she +might venture. One-third of her sack +she threw into Alston's basket—about +five pounds. And thus the poor soul +did during the day, giving a third of her +gatherings to Alston. She would have +given him more—the half, the whole, +everything she owned—for she regarded +him with a feeling that would have been +called love in a fairer woman.</p> + +<p>Alston had been in Virginia something +of a house-servant, doing occasional duty +as coachman when the regular official +was ill or was wanted elsewhere. He +was also a good table-waiter, and had +served in the dining-room when there +were guests. So it came that though +properly a field-hand, yet in manner and +speech he showed to advantage beside the +slaves who were exclusively field-hands. +Little Lizay too occupied a halfway place +between these and the better-spoken, +gentler-mannered house-servants. In +the winters, after Christmas, which usually +terminated the picking-season, Lizay +was called to the place of head assistant +of the plantation seamstress. Indeed, +she did little field-service except in times +of special pressure and during the quarter +<a name="Page_446" id="Page_446"><span class="pagenum">Page 446</span></a>of cotton-picking. She was so nimble-fingered +and swift that she could not be +spared from the field in picking-season, +especially if, as was the case this year, +there was a heavy crop. And occasionally +in the winter, when there was unusual +company at the Hortons' in the +city, Little Lizay was sent for and had +the advantage of a season in town. She +felt her superiority to the average plantation-negro, +and had not married, though +not unsolicited. When, therefore, Alston +came she at once recognized in him a +companion, and she was not long in +making over her favor to the distinguished-looking +stranger. He was, as she, a +half-breed, and Lizay liked her own color. +Had Alston courted her favor, she might +have yielded it less readily, but he did +not take easily to his new companions. +Some called him proud: others reckoned +he had left a sweetheart, a wife perhaps, +in Virginia. Little Lizay's evident preference +laid her open to the rude jokes +and sneers of the other negroes—in particular +Big Sam, who was her suitor, and +Edny Ann, who was fond of Alston. +But Edny Ann did not care for Alston +as Little Lizay did—could not, indeed. +She was incapable of the devotion that +Lizay felt. She would not have left her +sleep and gone to the dew-wet field before +daybreak for the sake of helping +Alston: she would not have taken the +risk of falling behind in her picking, and +thus incurring a flogging, by dividing her +gatherings with him. And if she had helped +him at all, it would not have been delicately, +as Lizay's help had been given. +Edny Ann would have wanted Alston to +know that she had helped him: Little +Lizay wished to hide it from him, both +because she feared he would decline her +help, and because she wanted to spare +him the humiliation.</p> + +<p>When night came not only Alston lingered, +picking by moonlight, but Little +Lizay; and this gave rise to much laughing +among the other pickers, and to many +coarse jokes. But to one who knew her +secret it would have seemed piteous—the +girl's anxious face as the weighing proceeded, +drawing on and on to Alston's +basket and hers at the very end of the +line. Would he have a hundred? would +she fall behind? Would he be saved +the flogging? would she have to suffer +in his stead? She dreaded a flogging at +the hands of that brutal overseer, and +all her womanliness shrunk from the +degradation of being stripped and flogged +in Alston's presence, or even of +having him know that she was to be +cowhided. She bethought her of making +an appeal to the overseer. She knew +she had some power with him, for he had +been enamored, in his brutish way, of +her physical charms—her neat figure, +her glossy, waving hair, and the small, +shapely hand and foot.</p> + +<p>Just before the weighing had reached +Alston's basket and hers she stepped beside +the overseer. "Please, Mos' Buck," +she said in a low tone, "ef I falls 'hin' +myse'f, an' don't git up to them fus' figgers, +an' has to git cowhided—please, +sah, don't let the black folks an' Als'on +know 'bout it."</p> + +<p>Mr. Buck took a hint from this request. +He perceived that Lizay was interested in +Alston, as he had already guessed from +the jokes of the negroes, and that she +was specially desirous to conceal her +shame from the man to whom she had +given her favor. Mr. Buck resented it +that Lizay should rebuff him and encourage +Alston; so he hoped that for this +once, at any rate, she would fall behind: +he had thought of a capital plan of revenging +himself on her.</p> + +<p>The next moment after her whispered +appeal Lizay saw with intense interest +Alston's basket brought forward for +weighing. She glanced at him. His +eyes were wide open, staring with eagerness, +his head advanced, his whole attitude +one of absorbed anxiety. By the +position of the weight or pea on the steelyard +she knew that it was put somewhere +near the sixty notch. Up flew +the end of the yard, and up flew Lizay's +heart with it: out went the pea some ten +teeth, yet up again went the impatient +steel. Click! click! click! rattled the +weight. Out and out another ten notches, +then another and another—one hundred, +one hundred and one, one hundred and +two, one hundred and three—yet the +<a name="Page_447" id="Page_447"><span class="pagenum">Page 447</span></a>yard still protested, still called for more. +Out one tooth farther, and the steel lay +along the horizon. Everybody listened.</p> + +<p>"One hunderd an' fou'," Mr. Buck +announced. "Thar' now, yer lazy dog! +I know'd yer wasn't half wuckin'. Now +see ter it yer come ter taw arter this: +hunderd an' fou's yer notch."</p> + +<p>It was a moment of supreme relief to +Alston. He drew a long breath, and +returned some smiles of congratulation +from the negroes. Then he sighed: he +felt hopeless of repeating the weight day +after day. He had hardly stopped to +breathe from day-dawn till moon-rise: +he would not always have the friendly +moonlight to help him. But now Little +Lizay's basket was swinging. He listened +to hear its weight with interest, +but how unlike this was to the absorbed +anxiety which she had felt for him!</p> + +<p>"Two hunderd an' 'leven—thutty-six +poun's behin'!" said Mr. Buck, smacking +his lips as over some good thing. +Now he should have vent for his spite +against the girl. "Thutty-six lashes on +yer bar' back by yer sweet'art." Mr. +Buck said this with a dreadful snicker +in Little Lizay's face.</p> + +<p>The word ran like wildfire from mouth +to mouth that Little Lizay, the famous +picker, had fallen behind, and was to +be flogged—by the overseer, some said—by +Big Sam, others declared. But Edny +Ann reckoned the cowhiding was to be +done by Alston.</p> + +<p>"An' her dersarves it, kase her's a big +fool," said Edny Ann, "hangin' roun' +him, an' patchin' his cloze like her wus +morred ter 'im—an' washin' his shut an' +britches ev'ry Saddy night."</p> + +<p>All the hands were required to stop +after the weighing and witness the floggings, +as a warning to themselves and +an enhancement of punishment to the +convicts. There was but little shrinking +from the sight. Human nature is +everywhere much the same: cruel spectacles +brutalize, whether in Spain or on +a negro-plantation. But to-night there +was a new sensation: the slaves were on +the <i>qui vive</i> to see Little Lizay flogged, +and to find out whose hand was to wield +the whip.</p> + +<p>"Now hurry up yere, yer lazy raskels! +an' git yer floggin'," Mr. Buck said when +the weighing was over.</p> + +<p>From right and left and front and rear +negroes came forward and stood, a motley +group, before the one white man. It +was a weird spectacle that did not seem +to belong to our earth. Black faces, +heads above heads, crowded at the doorway—some +solemn and sympathetic, +others grinning in anticipation of the +show. Negroes were perched on the +gin and in the corners of the loft where +the cotton was heaped. Others lay at +full length close to the field of action. +In every direction the dusky figures dotted +the cotton lying on every hand about +the little cleared space where the flogging +and weighing were done. In a close +bunch stood the shrinking, cowering convicts, +some with heads white as the cotton +all about them. Mr. Buck, the most +picturesque figure of the whole, was laying +off his coat and baring his arm, +standing under the solitary lamp depending +from the rafters, whose faint +light served to give to all the scene an +indefinite supernatural aspect.</p> + +<p>"Now, come out yere," said Mr. Buck, +moving from under the grease-lamp and +calling for volunteers.</p> + +<p>One by one the negroes came forward +and bared themselves to the waist—children, +strong men and old women. And +then there was shrieking and wailing, +begging and praying: it was like a leaf +out of hell.</p> + +<p>Little Lizay was among the first of the +condemned to present herself, for she +felt an intolerable suspense as to what +awaited her. The vague terror in her +face was discerned by the dim light.</p> + +<p>As she stepped forward Mr. Buck called +out, "Als'on!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, moster," Alston answered.</p> + +<p>"What yer sneakin' in that thar' corner +fer? Come up yere, you—" but his +vile sentence shall not be finished here.</p> + +<p>Alston came forward with a statuesque +face.</p> + +<p>"Take this rawhide," was the order he +received.</p> + +<p>He put out his hand, and then, suddenly +realizing the requisition that was +<a name="Page_448" id="Page_448"><span class="pagenum">Page 448</span></a>to be made on him, realizing that he was +to flog Little Lizay, his confidante and +sympathizing friend, his hand dropped +cold and limp.</p> + +<p>"Yerdar' ter dis'bey me?" Mr. Buck +bellowed. "I'll brain yer: I'll—"</p> + +<p>"I didn't go ter do it, moster," Alston +said, reaching for the whip. "I'll whip +her tell yer tells me ter stop."</p> + +<p>"He didn't go ter do it, Mos' Buck," +pleaded Little Lizay, frightened for Alston. +"He'll whip me ef yer'll give 'im +the whip.—I's ready, Als'on."</p> + +<p>She crossed her arms over her bare +bosom and shook her long hair forward: +then dropped her face low and stood with +her back partly turned to Alston, who +now had the whip.</p> + +<p>"Fire away!" said the overseer.</p> + +<p>Alston was not a refined gentleman, +whose youth had been hedged from the +coarse and degrading, whose good instincts +had been cherished, whose faculties +had been harmoniously trained. +He was not a hero: he was not prepared +to espouse to the death Little Lizay's +cause—to risk everything for the shrinking, +helpless woman and for his own +manhood—to die rather than strike her. +He was only a slave, used from his cradle +to the low and cruel and brutalizing. +But he had the making of a man in him: +his nature was one that could never become +utterly base. But there was no +help, no hope, for either of them in anything +he could do. He might knock +Mr. Buck senseless, sure of the sympathy +of every slave on the plantation. +There would be a brief triumph, but he +and Little Lizay would have to pay for it: +bloodhounds, scourgings, chains, cruelty +that never slept and could never be placated, +were sure as fate. Resistance was +inevitable disaster.</p> + +<p>Alston did not need to stand there +undetermined while he went over this: +it was familiar ground. Over and over +again he had settled it: it was madness +for the slave to oppose himself to the +dominant white man.</p> + +<p>So, after his first unreasoning recoil, +his mind was decided to adminster the +flogging. Would it not be a mercy to +Little Lizay for him to do this rather +than that other hand, energized by hate, +revenge and cruelty?</p> + +<p>He raised his arm, with his heart beating +hot and his manhood shrinking: he +struck Little Lizay's bare shoulders. She +had nerved herself, but the blow, after +all, surprised her and made her start; +and she had not quite recovered herself +when the second blow fell, so that she +winced again; but after that she stood +like a statue.</p> + +<p>"Harder!" cried Mr. Buck after the +first few lashes. "None yer tomfool'ry +'bout me. She ain't no baby. Harder! +I tell yer. Yer ain't draw'd no blood +nary time. Ef yer don't min' me I'll +knock yer down. Yer whips like yer +wus 'feard yer'd hurt 'er. Yer ac' like +yer never whipped no nigger sence yer +wus bawn. Yer's got ter tiptoe ter it, +an' fling yer arm back at a better lick +'an that. Look yere: ef yer don't lick +her harder I'll make Big Sam lick yer +till yer see sights."</p> + +<p>At length the wretched work was ended, +and the negroes made their way +along the moonlighted lanes to their +cabins. These were single rooms, built +of unhewn logs, chinked and daubed +with yellow mud. They had puncheon +floors and chimneys built of sticks and +clay. Of clay also were the all-important +jambs, which served as depositories +of perhaps every household article pertaining +to the cabin except the bedding +and the stools. There might have been +found the household knife and spoon, +the two or three family tin cups, the +skillet, the pothooks, sundry gourd vessels, +the wooden tray in which the "cawn" +bread was mixed—pipe, tobacco and +banjo.</p> + +<p>On the Horton place the negroes cooked +their own suppers after the day's work +was over. So for an hour every evening +"the quarter" had an animated aspect, +for the cabins, standing five yards apart, +faced each other in two long lines. In +each was a glowing fire, on which logs +and pine-knots and cypress-splints were +laid with unsparing hand, for there was +no limit to the fuel. These fires furnished +the lights: candles and lamps were +unknown at "the quarter."</p> +<p><a name="Page_449" id="Page_449"><span class="pagenum">Page 449</span></a></p> +<p>Of course the windowless cabins, with +these roaring fires, were stifling in September; +so the negroes sat in the doorways +chatting and singing while the bacon was +frying and the corn dough roasting in +the ashes or the hoecake baking on the +griddle. An occasional woman patched +or washed some garment by the firelight, +while others brought water in piggins +from the spring at the foot of the hill on +whose brow "the quarter" was located.</p> + +<p>As Alston sat outside his door on a +block, eating his supper by the light of +the high-mounting flames of his cabin-fire, +Little Lizay came out and sat on her +doorsill. Her cabin stood opposite his. +He recognized her, and when he had +finished his supper he went over to her.</p> + +<p>"I didn't want ter strike yer, Lizay," +he said. "Do you feel haud agin me +fer it?"</p> + +<p>"No," Lizay answered: "he made yer +do it. Yer couldn't he'p it. I reckon +yer'll have ter whip me agin ter-morrer +night. I mos' knows my baskit won't +weigh no two hunderd an' fawty-seven +poun's. 'Tain't fa'r ter 'spec' that much +from me: it's a heap more'n tother gals +gits, an' mos' all uv um is heap bigger'n +me. I's small pertatoes." She laughed +a little at her jest.</p> + +<p>"Yer's some punkins," said Alston, +returning the joke. "I'd give a heap ef +I could pick cotton like yer."</p> + +<p>"Yer's improved a heap," said Little +Lizay. "Ef yer keeps on improvin', +mayby yer'll git so yer kin he'p me +arter 'while."</p> + +<p>"Mayby so," Alston answered.</p> + +<p>"But yer wouldn't he'p me, I reckon. +Reckon yer'd he'p Edny Ann: yer likes +her better'n me."</p> + +<p>"No, I don't."</p> + +<p>"Reckon yer likes somebody in Virginny +more'n yer likes anybody on this +plantation."</p> + +<p>"I's better 'quainted back thar'," said +Alston apologetically.</p> + +<p>"But thar' ain't no use hankerin' arter +them yer's lef 'hin' yer: reckon yer +won't never see um no mo'. Heap better +git sati'fied yere. It's a long way +back thar', ain't it?"</p> + +<p>"A mighty long way," said Alston; +and then he was silent, his thoughts going +back and back over the long way.</p> + +<p>Lizay recalled him: "Was yer sorry +yer had ter whip me?"</p> + +<p>"I was mighty sorry, Little Lizay," +he replied with a strong tone of tenderness +that made her heart beat faster. "I +would er knocked that white nigger down, +but it wouldn't er he'ped nothin'. Things +would er jus' been wusser."</p> + +<p>"Yes," Lizay assented, "nothin' won't +he'p us: ain't no use in nothin'."</p> + +<p>"Reckon I'll go in an' go ter sleep," +said Alston: "got ter git up early in the +mawnin'."</p> + +<p>He <i>was</i> up early the next morning, he +and Little Lizay being again in the cotton-field +before dawn. All through the +day there was, as before, persistent devotion +to the picking; then the holding +on after dusk for one more pound; the +same result at night—the man up to the +required figure, the woman behind, this +time forty-one pounds behind. Again she +received a cowhiding at Alston's hands.</p> + +<p>"What yer mean by this yere foolin'?" +Mr. Buck demanded in a rage of Little +Lizay. "Yer reckon I's gwine ter stan' +this yere? Two hunderd an' fawty-seven +'gin two hunderd an' six! It's all laziness +an' mulishness. I'll git yer outen +that thar' notch, else I'll kill yer. Look +yere: ter-morrer, ef yer don't come ter +taw, I'll give yer twict es many licks es +the poun's yer falls behin'."</p> + +<p>Did this threat frighten Little Lizay out +of her devotion?</p> + +<p>"Two hunderd is 'nuff fer a little gal +like yer," Alston said the next morning. +"Save my life, I can't pick no more'n a +hunderd an' a few poun's mo'. I wouldn't +stan' ter be flogged ef I'd done my shar'."</p> + +<p>"Got ter stan' it—can't he'p myse'f."</p> + +<p>"I'd go ter town an' tell Mos' Hawton. +I's tolerbul sho' he wouldn't 'low yer ter +git twict es many licks, nohow. Mos' +Hawton's tolerbul good ter his black +folks, ain't he?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, tolerbul—to the house-sarvants +he's got in town; but he jist goes 'long +mindin' his business thar', an' don't pay +no 'tention sca'cely ter his plantation. +He don't want us ter come 'plainin' ter +him. He's mighty busy—gits a heap er +<a name="Page_450" id="Page_450"><span class="pagenum">Page 450</span></a>practice, makes a heap er money. He +went down the river onct, more'n a hunderd +miles, ter cut somethin' off a man—I +fawgits what 'twas—an' the man paid +him hunderds an' hunderds an' hunderds—I +fawgits how much 'twas."</p> + +<p>Here Little Lizay found that Alston +was no longer listening, but was absorbed +with the cotton-picking.</p> + +<p>That day, to save the pickers' time, +their bacon and corn pones were brought +out to the field by wagon in wooden trays +and buckets. There were three cotton-baskets +filled with corn dodgers. Alston +and Little Lizay sat not far apart while +eating their dinners.</p> + +<p>"I reckon I's gittin' 'long tolerbul well +ter-day," he said. "Dun know for sar-tin, +but looks like the pickin' wus heap +handier than at fus'. Look yere, Lizay: +ef I know'd I'd git more'n a hunderd I'd +he'p yer 'long: I'd give yer the balance. +Couldn't stave off all the floggin', but I +might save yer some licks."</p> + +<p>"Take kere yer ownse'f, Als'on. I +don't min' the las' few licks: they don't +never hut bad es the fus' ones." This +was Little Lizay's answer, given with +glowing cheek and eyes looking down. +To her own heart she said, "I likes him +better'n he likes me. Reckon he can't +git over mou'nin' fer somebody in Virginny." +She wondered if he had left a +wife back there: she would test him. +"Reckon yer'll hear from yer wife any +mo', Als'on?" she said.</p> + +<p>"Yes, reckon I will. She said she'd +write me a letter. She didn't b'long ter +my ol' moster: she b'longed ter Squire +Minor. I tuck a wife off'en our plantation. +She's goin' ter ax her moster ter +sell her an' the childun to Mos' Hawton, +and I's waitin' ter fin' out ef he'll +sell 'um. I ain't goin' ter cou't no other +gal tell I fin's out."</p> + +<p>"Yer hopes he'll sell her, don't yer?" +Little Lizay asked with an anxious heart.</p> + +<p>"She wus a mighty good wife," said +Alston, without committing himself by +a categorical answer. "Would seem like +Ol' Virginny ter have her an' the childun, +but they's better off thar'. They +couldn't pick cotton, I reckon. Her moster +an' mistiss thinks a heap uv her: +she's one the cooks. I don't reckon +they kin spaw her."</p> + +<p>"Don't yer, sho' 'nuff?"</p> + +<p>"No, I don't reckon they kin, 'cause +one Mis' Minor's cooks is gittin' ol' an' +can't see good—Aunt Juno. She wucks +up flies an' sich into the cawn bread. +They wants ter put my wife into her +place, but they can't git shet with Aunt +Juno: she's jis' boun' she'll do the white +folks' cookin'. She says thar' ain't no +use in bein' free ef she can't do what +she pleases: they set her free Chrismus +'fo' las'. But law, Lizay! we mus' hurry +up an' get ter pickin'."</p> + +<p>That night Lizay had gained on her +basket of the preceding day by five and +a half pounds, and Alston had fallen behind +his by four. But as he was still +over a hundred he escaped a flogging. +Mr. Buck, being unable to reckon exactly +the number of lashes to which Little +Lizay was entitled, gave the rawhide +the benefit of any doubt and ordered Alston +to administer seventy-five lashes.</p> + +<p>The next day nothing noticeable occurred +in the lives of these two slaves, +except that Alston's basket fell yet behind: +Mr. Buck acknowledged it was a +"hunderd, but a mighty tight squeeze," +while Little Lizay's had gained three +pounds on the last weight.</p> + +<p>"Yer saved six lashes ter-day, Little +Lizay," Alston said. He was evidently +glad for her, and her hungry heart was +glad that he cared.</p> + +<p>"An' yer didn't haudly git clear," she +replied, adding to herself that to-morrow +she must be more generous with her help +to Alston.</p> + +<p>But on the morrow something occurred +which dismayed the girl. She had +shaken her sack over Alston's basket, +designing to empty a third of its contents +there, and then the remainder in +her "pick." But the cotton was closely +packed in the sack, and almost the whole +of it tumbled in a compact mass into +Alston's basket. He would not need so +much help as this to ensure him, so she +proceeded to transfer a portion of the +heap to her basket. Suddenly she started +as though shot. Some one was calling +to her and making a terrible accusation. +<a name="Page_451" id="Page_451"><span class="pagenum">Page 451</span></a>The some one was Edny Ann: +"Yer's stealin' thar': I see'd yer do it—see'd +yer takin' cotton outen Als'on's baskit. +Ain't yer shame, yer yaller good-fer-nuffin'? +I's gwine ter tell." This was +the terrible accusation.</p> + +<p>"Yer dun know nothin' 'tall 'bout it," +said Little Lizay. "It's my cotton. I emptied +it in Als'on's baskit when I didn't +go ter do it. I ain't tuck a sol'tary lock +er Als'on's cotton; an' I wouldn't, nuther, +ter save my life."</p> + +<p>"Reckon yer kin fool me?" demanded +the triumphant Edny Ann. Then she +called Alston with the <i>O</i> which Southerners +inevitably prefix: "O Als'on! O +Als'on! come yere! quick!"</p> + +<p>"Don't, please don't, tell him," Little +Lizay pleaded. "I'll give yer my new +cal'ker dress ef yer won't tell nobody."</p> + +<p>But Edny Ann went on calling: "O +Als'on! O Als'on! come yere!"</p> + +<p>Little Lizay pleaded in a frantic way +for silence as she saw Alston coming +with long strides up between the cotton-rows +toward them.</p> + +<p>"I wants yer ter ten' ter Lizay," said +Edny Ann. "Her's been stealin' yer +cotton: see'd 'er do it—see'd 'er take +a heap er cotton outen yer baskit an' +ram it into hern. Did so!"</p> + +<p>Then you should have seen the man's +face. Had it been white you could not +have discerned any plainer the surprise, +the disappointment, the grief. Lizay saw +with an indefinable thrill the sadness in +his eyes, heard the grief in his voice.</p> + +<p>"I didn't reckon yer'd do sich a thing, +Lizay," he said. "I know it's mighty +haud on yer, gittin' cowhided ev'ry night, +but stealin' ain't goin' ter he'p it, Lizay."</p> + +<p>"I never stole yer cotton, Als'on," Little +Lizay said with a certain dignity, but +with an unsteady voice.</p> + +<p>"I see'd yer do it," Edny Ann interrupted.</p> + +<p>"I emptied my sack in yer baskit when +I didn't go ter do it," Little Lizay continued. +"It wus my own cotton I wus +takin' out yer baskit."</p> + +<p>"Ef yer deny it, Lizay, yer'll make it +wusser." Then Alston went up close to +her, so that Edny Ann might not hear, +and said something in a low tone.</p> + +<p>Lizay gave him a swift look of surprise: +then her lip began to quiver; the +quick tears came to her eyes; she put +both hands to her face and cried hard, +so that she could not have found voice +if she had wished to tell Alston her story. +He went back to his row, and left her +there crying beside the pick-baskets. He +returned almost immediately, shouldered +his basket, and went away from her to +another part of the field, leaving his row +unfinished. He wondered how much +cotton Lizay had taken from his basket—if +its weight would be brought down +below a hundred; and meditated what +he should do in case he was called up to +be flogged by the brutal overseer. Should +he stand and take the lashing, trusting +to Heaven to make it up to him some +day? or should he knock the overseer +senseless and make a strike for freedom? +Where was freedom? Which was the +way to the free North? In Virginia he +would have known in what direction to +set his face for Ohio, but here everything +was new and strange.</p> + +<p>However, he had no occasion for a +desperate movement that night. His +basket weighed one hundred and seven, +while Little Lizay's had fallen lower than +ever before. Alston thought it was because +she had missed her chance of +transferring the usual quantity of cotton +from his basket.</p> + +<p>The striking of Lizay had never seemed +so abhorrent to him as on this night, +now that there was estrangement between +them. She was already humiliated in +his sight, and to raise his hand against +her was like striking a fallen foe. She +would think that he was no longer sorry—that +he was glad to repay the wrong +she had done him.</p> + +<p>In the mean time, Edny Ann had told +the story of the theft to one and another, +and Lizay found at night the "quarter" +humming with it. Taunts and jeers met +her on every hand. Stealing from white +folks the negroes regarded as a very +trifling matter, since they, the slaves, had +earned everything there was: but to steal +from "a po' nigger" was the meanest +thing in their decalogue.</p> + +<p>"Stealin' from her beau!" sneered one +<a name="Page_452" id="Page_452"><span class="pagenum">Page 452</span></a>negro, commenting on Little Lizay's offence.</p> + +<p>"An' her sweet'art!" said another.</p> + +<p>"An' her 'tendin' like her lubbed 'im!"</p> + +<p>"An' Als'on can't pick cotton fas', nohow, +kase he ain't use ter cotton—neber +see'd none till he come yere—an' her +know'd he'd git a cowhidin'. It's meaner'n +boneset tea," said Edny Ann.</p> + +<p>"A heap meaner," assented Cat. "Sich +puffawmance's wusser'n stealin' acawns +frum a blin' hog."</p> + +<p>Over and over Little Lizay said, "I +never stole Als'on's cotton;" and then +she would make her explanation, as she +had made it to Edny Ann and Alston. +Often she was tempted to tell the whole +story of how she had been all along +helping Alston at her own cost, but many +motives restrained her. She dreaded the +jeers and jests to which the story would +subject her, and everything was to be feared +from Mr. Buck's retaliation should he +learn that he had been tricked. Besides, +she wished, if possible, to go on helping +Alston. She doubted, too, if he would receive +it well that she had been helping +him. Might he not gravely resent it that +through her action such a pitiable part +in the drama had been forced on him? +Then there was something sweet to Little +Lizay in suffering all alone for Alston—in +having this secret unshared: she +respected herself more that she did not +risk everything to vindicate herself, for +this she could do: the steelyard to-morrow +would demonstrate the truth of her +story.</p> + +<p>But the morrow came, and she went +out to the field, her story untold, a marked +woman. Yet she was not comfortless. +The something that Alston had told her the +previous day was making her heart sing. +This is what he told her: "While yer +wus stealin' from me, Lizay, I wus he'pin' +yer. I put a ha'f er sack in yer baskit +ter-day, an' a ha'f er sack yistiddy—kase +I liked yer, Lizay."</p> + +<p>She took her rows beside Alston's as +usual, determined to watch for a chance +to help him. But when he moved away +from her and took another row, Lizay +knew that the time had come. She +couldn't stand it to have him strain and +tug and bend to his work as no other +hand in the field did, only to be disappointed +at night. She could never bear it that +he should be flogged after all she had +done to save him from the shame. She +could never live through it—the cowhiding +of her hero by the detested overseer. +Yes, the time had come: she must +tell Alston.</p> + +<p>She went over to where he had begun a +new row. "Yer don't b'lieve the tale I tole +yistiddy, Als'on: yer's feared I'll steal yer +cotton ter-day," she said.</p> + +<p>"I don't wish no talk 'bout it, Lizay," +Alston said. His tone was half sad, half +peremptory.</p> + +<p>"Yer mustn't feel haud agin me ef I +tells you somethin', Als'on. Yer's been +puttin' cotton in my baskit unbeknownst +ter save me some lashes, an' yer throw'd +it up ter me yistiddy. Now, look yere, +Als'on: I's been he'pin' yer all this week, +ever since Mr. Buck said yer got ter git +a hunderd. Ev'ry day I's he'ped yer git +up ter a hunderd."</p> + +<p>Alston had stopped picking, both his +hands full of cotton, and stood staring in +a bewildered way at the girl. "Lizay, is +this a fac'?" he said at length.</p> + +<p>"'Tis so, Als'on; an' ef yer don't lemme +he'p yer now yer'll fall 'hin' an' have ter +git flogged."</p> + +<p>"An' ef yer he'p me, yer'll fall shawt +an' have ter git flogged. Oh, Lizay, thar' +never was nobody afo' would er done +this yer fer me," Alston said, feeling that +he would like to kiss the poor shoulders +that had been scourged for him. Great +tears gathered in his eyes, and he thought +without speaking the thought, "My wife +in Virginny wouldn't er done it."</p> + +<p>"So yer mus' lemme he'p yer ter-day," +said Little Lizay.</p> + +<p>"I'll die fus'," he said in a savage tone.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yer'll git a whippin', Als'on, sho's +yer bawn."</p> + +<p>"No: I won't take a floggin' from that +brute."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Als'on, yer jis' got ter: yer can't +he'p the miserbulness. No use runnin' +'way: they'd ketch yer an' bring yer +back. Thar's nigger-hunters an' blood-houn's +all roun' this yer naberhood. Yer +couldn't git 'way ter save yer life."</p> +<p><a name="Page_453" id="Page_453"><span class="pagenum">Page 453</span></a></p> +<p>"Look yere, Lizay," Alston said with +sudden inspiration: "le's go tell Mos' +Hawton all 'bout it. Ef he's a genulman +he'll 'ten' ter us. They won't miss +us till night, an' 'fo' that time we'll be +in Memphis. Yer knows the way, don't +yer?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," Lizay said; "an' I reckon that's +the bes' thing we kin do—go tell moster +an' mistis. But, law! I ought er go +pull off this yere ole homespun dress an' +put on my new cal'ker."</p> + +<p>"I reckon we ain't got no time ter +dress up," said Alston. "We mus' start +quick: come 'long. Le's hide our baskits +fus' whar' the cotton-stalks is thick."</p> + +<p>This they did, and then started off at +a brisk pace, their flight concealed by +the tall cotton-plants. They reached +Memphis about eleven o'clock, and +found Dr. Horton at home, having just +finished his lunch. They were admitted +at once to the dining-room, where the +doctor sat picking his teeth. He had +never seen Alston, as the new negroes +had been bought by an agent.</p> + +<p>"Sarvant, moster!" Alston said humbly, +but with dignity.</p> + +<p>"Howdy, moster?" was Little Lizay's +more familiar salutation.</p> + +<p>"I's Als'on, one yer new boys from +Ol' Virginny."</p> + +<p>"You're a likely-lookin' fellow," said +the doctor, who was given to dropping final +consonants in his speech. "I reckon I'll +hear a good report of you from Mr. Buck. +You look like you could stan' up to work +like a soldier. But what's brought you +and Little Lizay to the city? Anything +gone wrong?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, moster," said Alston—"mighty +wrong. Look yere, Mos' Hawton: when +I come on yer plantation I made up +my min' ter sarve yer faithful—ter wuck +fer yer haud's I could—ter strike ev'ry +lick I could fer yer. When I hoed cawn +an' pulled fodder I went 'head er all the +han's on yer plantation. But when I +went ter pick cotton I wusn't use ter it. +I wuckt haud's I could, 'fo' day an' arter +dark. Mos' Hawton, I couldn't pick a +poun' more'n I pick ter save my life. +But I wus 'hin' all t'other han's. Then +Mos' Buck wus goin' ter flog me ef I +didn't git a hunderd: then Little Lizay, +her he'ped me unbeknownst: ev'ry day +she puts cotton in my baskit ter fetch +it ter a hunderd, an' that made her fall +'hin' las' year's pickin'; then ev'ry night +she was stripped an' cowhided; but she +kep' on he'pin' me, an' kep' on gettin' +whipped. I dun know what she dun it +fer: 'min's me uv the Laud on the cross."</p> + +<p>Dr. Horton knew what she did it for. +His knightliness was touched to the quick. +The story made him wish as never before +to be a better master than he had +ever been to his poor people. He asked +many questions, and drew forth all the +facts, Lizay telling how Alston was helping +her while she was helping him. Dr. +Horton saw that here was a romance in +slave-life—that the man and woman were +in love with each other.</p> + +<p>"Well, if you can't pick cotton," he +said to Alston, "what can you do?"</p> + +<p>"Mos' anything else, moster. I kin do +ev'rything 'bout cawn; I kin split rails; +I kin plough; I kin drive carriage."</p> + +<p>"Could you run a cotton-gin?"</p> + +<p>"Reckon so, moster: the black folks +says it's tolerbul easy."</p> + +<p>"Well, now, look here: you and Lizay +get some dinner, an' then do you take a +back-trot for the plantation. I'll sen' +Buck a note: no, he can't more'n half +read writin'. Well, do you tell him, Alston, +to put you to ginnin' cotton: Little +Sam mus' work with you a few days till +you get the hang of the thing; an' then +I want you to show that plantation what +'tis to serve master faithfully. You see, +I believe in you, my man."</p> + +<p>"Thanky, moster. I'll wuck fer yer +haud's I kin. Please God, I'll sarve yer +faithful."</p> + +<p>"Of cou'se, Lizay, you'll go back to +pickin' cotton, an' don't let me hear any +mo' of you' nonsense—helpin' a strappin' +fellow twice you' size. An' tell Buck +I won't have him whippin' any my negroes +ev'ry night in the week. Confound +it! a mule couldn't stan' it. If I've got +a negro that needs floggin' ev'ry night, +I'll sell him or give 'im away, or turn 'im +out to grass to shif' for himself. I'll be +out there soon, an' 'ten' to things. If +anybody needs a floggin', tell Buck to +<a name="Page_454" id="Page_454"><span class="pagenum">Page 454</span></a>send 'im to me. Tell the folks to work +like clever Christians, an' they shall have +a fus'-rate Christmas—a heap of Christmas-gifts."</p> + +<p>"Yes, moster."</p> + +<p>"Do you an' Lizay want to get married +right away, or wait till Christmas?"</p> + +<p>Alston and Little Lizay looked at each +other, smiling in an embarrassed way.</p> + +<p>"But, moster," said Alston, "I's got +a wife an' fou' childun in Ol' Virginny, +an' I promused I'd wait an' wouldn't git +morred ag'in tell she'd write ter me ef +her moster'd sell her; an' I was goin' ter +ax yer ter buy 'er."</p> + +<p>"You needn't pester yourself about +that. I got a letter for you the other +day from her," the doctor said, fumbling +in his pockets.</p> + +<p>"Yer did, sah?" Alston said with interest.</p> + +<p>"Yes: here it is. Can you read? or +shall I read it to you?"</p> + +<p>"Ef yer please, moster."</p> + +<p>Then Dr. Horton read:</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">"My Dear B'loved Husbun'</span>: Miss +Marthy Jane takes my pen in han' ter +let yer know I's well, an' our childun's +well, an' all the black folks is tolerbul +well 'cept Juno: her's got the polsy tolerbul +bad. All the white folks 'bout yere +is will 'cept mistis: her's got the dumps. +All the childun say, Howdy? the black +folks all says, Howdy? an' Pete says, +Howdy? an' Andy says, Howdy? an' +Viny says, Howdy? an' Cinthy says, +Howdy? an' Tony Tucker says, Howdy? +and Brudder Thomas Jeff'son Hollan' +says, Howdy? Last time I see'd +Benj'man Franklins Bedfud, he says, +''Member, an' don't fawgit, the fus' time +yer writes, ter tell Als'on, Howdy?'</p> + +<p>"Yer 'fectionate wife, <span class="smcap">Chloe</span>."</p> + +<p>"P.S. Mistis says her can't spaw me, +so 'tain't no use waitin' no longer fer me. +'Sides, I got 'gaged ter git morred: I wus +morred Sundy 'fo' las' at quat'ly meetin'. +Brudder Mad'son Mason puffawmed the +solemn cer'mony, an' preached a beautiful +discou'se. Me an' my secon' husbun' +gits 'long fus'-rate. I fawgot ter tell yer +who I got morred to. I got morred to +Thomas Jeff'son Hollan'."</p> + +<p>"So you're a free man," said Dr. Horton, +folding the letter and handing it to +Alston. "You an' Little Lizay can get +married to-day, right now, if you wish +to. Uncle Moses can marry you: he's +a member of the Church in good an' +regular standin': I don't know but he's +an exhorter, or class-leader, or somethin'. +What do you say? Shall I call +him in an' have him tie you together?"</p> + +<p>"Thanky, moster, ef Little Lizay's +willin'.—Is yer, Lizay?"</p> + +<p>"I reckon so," said Lizay, her heart +beating in gladness. But she nevertheless +glanced down at her coarse field-dress +and thought with longing of the +new calico in her cabin.</p> + +<p>So Uncle Moses was called in, and +Mrs. Horton and all the children and +servants.</p> + +<p>"Uncle Moses," said Dr. Horton, "did +you ever marry anybody?"</p> + +<p>"To be sho', Mos' Hawton. I's morred—Lemme +see how many wives has +I morred sence I fus' commenced?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't mean that;" and Dr. +Horton proceeded to explain what he +did mean.</p> + +<p>"No," said Moses. "I never done +any that business, but reckon I could: +I's done things a heap hauder."</p> + +<p>"Well, let me see you try your han' +on this couple."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Uncle Moses, "git me a +book: got ter have a Bible, or hymn-book, +or cat'chism, or somethin'."</p> + +<p>The doctor gravely handed over a +pocket edition of <i>Don Quixote</i>, which +happened to lie in his reach.</p> + +<p>Uncle Moses took it for a copy of the +<i>Methodist Discipline</i>, and made pretence +of seeking for the marriage ceremony. +At length he appeared satisfied that he +had the right page, and stood up facing +the couple.</p> + +<p>"Jine boff yer right han's," he solemnly +commanded. Then, with his eyes on +the book, he repeated the marriage service, +with some remarkable emendations. +"An' ef yer solemnly promus," he said in +conclusion, "ter lub an' 'bey one 'nuther +tell death pawts yer, please de Laud yer +lib so long, I pernounces boff yer all man +an' wife."</p> +<p><a name="Page_455" id="Page_455"><span class="pagenum">Page 455</span></a></p> +<p>Then the mistress looked about and +got together a basket of household articles +for the new couple. Bearing this +between them, Alston and Little Lizay +went back to the plantation and to their +unfinished rows of cotton, happy, poor +souls! pathetic as it seems.</p> + +<p class="author">Sarah Winter Kellogg.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="The_Bass_Of_The_Potomac" id="The_Bass_Of_The_Potomac"></a>The Bass Of The Potomac.</h2> + + +<p>Some twenty-five years ago Mr. William +Shriver, a primitive pisciculturist, +took from the Youghiogheny River +eleven black bass, and conveyed them +in the tank of the tender of a locomotive +to Cumberland, in the coal-region of Western +Maryland. There he deposited them +in the Potomac, with the injunction which +forms the heraldic motto of the State of +Maryland—<i>Crescite et multiplicamini</i>. +The first part of this excellent precept +they obeyed by proceeding to devour all +the aboriginal fish in the river, and waxing +extremely hearty upon the liberal +diet. The second they performed with +a diligence so commendable that the +name of them in the river became as +legion, and the original possessors of the +waters were steadily extirpated or took +despairingly to small rivulets, and led +ever after a life of undeserved ignominy +and obscurity. There were bass in the +river from the Falls of the Potomac, near +Georgetown, to a point as near its source +as any self-respecting fish could approach +without detriment to the buttons on his +vest by reason of the shallowness of the +water. They were in all its tributaries, +and in fact monopolized its waters completely. +Had the supply of small fish +for food held out, it is impossible to say +to what extent they would have increased. +They might in their numerical enormity +have rivalled the condition of that famous +river, the Wabash, which in a certain +season of excessive dryness became so +low that a local journal of established +veracity described the fish as having to +stand upon their heads to breathe, and +while in that constrained attitude being +pulled by the inhabitants like radishes in +a garden.</p> + +<p>It has been contended by some ichthyologists +that the black bass does not eat +its own kind, but the spectacle which I +recently beheld of a four-pounder, defunct +and floating on the water, with the +tail and half the body of a ten-ounce +bass sticking out of his distended mouth, +affords but inadequate confirmation of +their views. I sat upon the bass in question, +and rendered a verdict of "choked +to death, and served him right." He +had swallowed the younger fish, who, for +aught he knew to the contrary, or cared, +might have been his own son; and his +confidence in his capacity being ably +supported by his appetite, he undertook +a contract to which he was unequal in +the matter of expansion. He couldn't +disgorge, being in the predicament of +the boa-constrictor who swallows a hen +head first, and finds her go against the +grain when he would fain reconsider the +subject. The head of the inside fish +was partially digested, but that process +had imparted no gratification to either +party, and both were defunct, mutually +immolated upon the altar of gluttony. +It is not an uncommon thing to find them +dead in that condition, for their appetites +are ravenous, and lead them into indiscretions +more or less serious in their consequences.</p> + +<p>There can be no doubt of their having +regarded as a delicate attention the action +some few years since of the Maryland +Fish Commissioner in placing several +thousand young California salmon in the +river. Those salmon have never been +seen or heard of since; but, although +the bass for some time had a guilty look +about them, it is hardly fair to let them +remain under so grievous an imputation +<a name="Page_456" id="Page_456"><span class="pagenum">Page 456</span></a>as is implied in the whole responsibility +for the fate of the California emigrants. +The fact is, that at Georgetown the Potomac +River makes a very abrupt change +in its grade, and the Great Falls, as they +are called, are both picturesque and arduous +of passage. The salmon, being of +luxurious habit, betakes him each year +to the seaside, and at the end of the season +returns in a connubial frame of mind +to the spot endeared to him by his early +associations. It is quite possible that +these particular salmon when on their +way to the purlieus of marine fashion +were somewhat discouraged at the jar +and shock incident to their transit over +the Falls. They may have concluded +that the locality was unpropitious for the +return trip, and then, consulting with +salmon whose lines had been cast in +more pleasant places, they may have +ascended rivers of more conspicuous +natural attractions and more agreeable +to fish of cultivated habits.</p> + +<p>The habits of the black bass may be +described as generally bad. It is a fish +devoid of any of the cardinal virtues. It +is ever engaged in internecine war, and +will any day forego a square meal for +the sake of a fight. It gorges itself like +a python, and when hooked is as game +as a salmon, and quite as vigorous in +proportion to size. In the Potomac it +has been known to weigh as much as +six pounds, but bass of that weight are +very rare, from three to four pounds being +the average of what are known as good +fish. These afford excellent sport, and +are taken with a variety of bait. The +habitués of the river commonly employ +live minnow, chub, catfish, suckers, sunfish—in +fact, any fish under six inches +in length. The bass has also a well-marked +predilection for small frogs, or +indeed for frogs of any dimensions. It +sometimes rises well at a gaudy, substantial +fly or a deft simulation of a +healthy Kansas grasshopper; but fishermen +have noticed that the largest fish +despise flies, much as a person of a full +roast-beef habit may be supposed to turn +up his nose at a small mutton-chop. In +other rivers they take the fly quite freely, +but in the Potomac they have had that +branch of their education greatly neglected. +In the matter of vitality they +are simply extraordinary: they cling to +life with a tenacity that very few fish exhibit. +In the spring or fall, when the +water and the air are at a comparatively +low temperature, a bass will live for eight +or ten hours without water. The writer +has brought fifty fish, weighing on an +average two and three-quarter pounds, +from Point of Rocks to Baltimore, a distance +of seventy-two miles, and after +they had been in the air six hours has +placed them in a tub of water and found +two-thirds of the number immediately +"kick" and plunge with an amount of +energy and ability that threw the water +in all directions. These fish had been +caught at various times during the day, +and as each was taken from the hook +a stout leather strap was forced through +the floor of its mouth beneath its tongue, +and the bunch of fish so secured allowed +to trail overboard in the stream. They +were thus dragged all day against a powerful +current, but never showed any +symptoms of "drowning." In the evening +they were strung upon a stout piece +of clothes-line, and after lying for some +time on the railway platform were transferred +to the floor of the baggage-car, +and so transported to the city. It is +quite evident that we do not live in the +fear of Mr. Bergh. But what is one to do? +The fish is not to be discouraged except +by the exhibition of great and brutal +violence. In fact, bass will not be induced +to decently decease by any civilized +process short of a powerful shock +from a voltaic pile administered in the +region of their <i>medulla oblongata</i>. Of +course, one cannot be expected to carry +about a voltaic pile and go hunting for +the medullary recesses of a savage and +turbulent fish. On the other hand, one +may batter the protoplasm out of a refractory +subject by the aid of a small +rock, but it won't improve the fish's looks +or cooking qualities. It may seem like +high treason to mention, moreover, at a +safe distance from Mr. Bergh, that euthanasia +in animals designed for the +table does not always improve their +quality, and in fact that the linked misery +<a name="Page_457" id="Page_457"><span class="pagenum">Page 457</span></a>long drawn out of a protracted dissolution +imparts a certain tenderness and +flavor to the flesh that it would not otherwise +possess. Should that excellent and +most estimable gentleman regard this +statement with a sceptical eye, let it be +here stated that the bass should be recently +killed, split, crimped and broiled +to a delicate brown, with a little good +butter and a sprinkling of pepper, salt +and chopped parsley. Should he pursue +the subject upon this basis, he will not +be the first gentleman who has surrendered +his convictions and compounded a +culinary felony upon favorable terms.</p> + +<p>Below Harper's Ferry there is one of +the most picturesque reaches of the Potomac +River. From the rugged heights +that frown upon that historic and lovely +spot, where the Shenandoah strikes away +through the pass that leads to the broad +and beautiful Valley of Virginia, and +where John Brown's memory struggles +through battered ruins and the invading +smoke of the unhallowed locomotive, the +river chafes from side to side of the stern +defile that hems it in and curbs its restless +waters. Great walls of dark rocks, +crested by serried ranks of solemn pines, +stand guard above its fitful, surging flood, +and against the dark blue calm and misty +depth of its gorge the pale smoke rises +in a quiet column above the mills and +houses that nestle by the river's bed. +Huge boulders stem the current, and the +rocks stand out in shelves and rugged +ridges, around which the stream whirls +swiftly and sweeps off into broad dark +pools in whose green, mysterious depths +there should be noble fish. Below, the +river widens and has long placid reaches, +but for the most part its banks are precipitous, +and the deep water runs along +the trunks and bares the roots of great +trees whose branches stretch far out over +its surface. Occasionally, the mountains +recede and form a vast amphitheatre, clad +in primeval forest, and there are islands +on which vegetation runs riot in its unbridled +luxury, and weaves festoons of +gay creepers to conceal the gaunt skeletons +of the endless piles of dead drift-wood. +All is in the most glorious green—a +very extravagance of fresh and brilliant +color—relieved with the bright purples +and tender leafing of the flowering +shrubs and vines that intertwine among +its heavy jungle. Upon the broad, flat +rocks one may see dozens of stolid "sliders," +or mud-turtles, some of great size, +basking in the sun like so many boarders +at a country hotel. They crowd upon +the rocks as thickly as they can, and +blink there all day long unless disturbed +by the approach of a boat, when they dive +clumsily but quickly. Occasionally, one +sees an otter, with seal-like head above +the surface of the water, swimming swiftly +from haunt to haunt in pursuit of the +bass; and small coteries of summer ducks +fly swiftly from sedge to sedge.</p> + +<p>The acoustic properties of the river +would make an architect die with envy. +The light breeze bears one's conversation +audibly for half a mile; one hears +the splash of a fish that jumps a thousand +yards away; and the grim cliffs at +the foot of which the canal winds in and +out take up the profanity of the towpath +and hurl it back and forth across the +river as if it was great fun and all propriety. +The stalwart exhortations and +clean-cut phraseology of the mule-drivers +and the notes of the bugles go ringing +over to Virginia's shore, and fill the air +with cadences so sweet and musical that +they sound like the pleasant laughter of +good-humored Nature, instead of the +well-punctuated and diligent ribaldry of +the most profane class of humanity in +existence. It is perfectly startling and +frightful to hear an objurgation of the +most utterly purposeless and ingeniously +vile description transmitted half a mile +with painful distinctness, and then seized +by a virtuous and reproachful echo and +indignantly repelled in disjointed fragments.</p> + +<p>"Y'ill take care, sorr, an' sit fair in the +middle of the shkiff," said Mr. McGrath +as I got into his frail craft at five o'clock +in the morning on the bank of the Chesapeake +and Ohio Canal near Point of +Rocks. "It's onconvanient to be outside +of the boat whin we're going through +them locks. There were a gintleman +done that last year, an' he come near +lavin' a lot of orphans behind him."</p> +<p><a name="Page_458" id="Page_458"><span class="pagenum">Page 458</span></a></p> +<p>"How was that, McGrath?" said I.</p> + +<p>"Begorra! the divil a child had he," +he replied.</p> + +<p>"But do you mean that he was drowned?" +I asked.</p> + +<p>"Faith, an' he was that, sorr—complately."</p> + +<p>I promised Mr. McGrath that I would +observe his instructions carefully, and +that gentleman, after placing the rods, +live-bait bucket, luncheon-basket and +other articles on board, took his seat in +the bow, and we proceeded. We had +two boats for my companion and myself, +and an experienced man in each. Mr. +McGrath had fallen to my lot, and my +companion had a darkey named Pete. +We were to go up the canal some four +miles, and then, launching the boats +into the river, were to fish slowly down +with the current. We had a horse and +tow-rope, and a small boy, mounted on +the animal, started off at a smart trot. +It was quite exhilarating, and the boats +dashed along merrily at a capital rate. +A gray mist hung low on the river, and +thin wraiths of it rose off the water of the +canal and crept up the mountain-side, +shrouding the black pines and hiding +the summit from view. Beyond, the +tops of the hills on the Virginia shore +were beginning to blush as they caught +the first rays of sunrise, and the fish-hawk's +puny scream echoed from the +islands in the stream. It was a lovely +morning, and promised a day, as Mr. +McGrath observed, on which some elegant +fish should die. After a few delays +at locks, in which canal-boats took precedence +of us, we reached our point of +transshipment, hauled the boats out on +the bank, and our horse drew them +sleigh-fashion across field and down to +and out into the water.</p> + +<p>I had a light split bamboo rod, a good +silk line and a fair assortment of flies. +Mr. McGrath had a common bamboo +cane, a battered old reel, and the value +of his outfit might be generously estimated +at half a dollar. In his live-bait +bucket were about a hundred fish, varying +in length from two to six inches. He +did not prepare to fish himself, but was +watching me with the deepest attention. +He held the boat across the stream toward +the opposite shore, and by the time +we dropped down on a large flat rock I +was ready. I got out, and there being +a pleasant air stirring, I made my casts +with a great deal of ease and comfort. +There was a deep hole below the rocks, +bordered on both sides by a swift ripple—as +pretty a spot as ever a fly was thrown +over. I sped them over it in all directions, +casting fifty and sixty feet of line, +and admiring the soft flutter with which +they dropped on the edge of the ripple +or the open water. Mr. McGrath was +surveying the operation critically, nodding +his head in approval from side to +side, and uttering short ejaculations of +the most flattering nature. I kept whipping +the stream assiduously, so satisfied +with my work and the style of it as to +feel confident that no well-regulated fish +could resist it. But there was no appearance +of a rise: not a sign appeared on +the water to show even the approach +of a speculative fish. I was about to +note the fact to Mr. McGrath when that +gentleman remarked, "Begorra! but it's +illigant sport it'd be if the bass 'ud only +bite at them things!"</p> + +<p>"Bite at them?" said I, turning round: +"of course they'll bite at them."</p> + +<p>"Sorra bit will they, sorr. It's just +wondherin' they are if them things up +above is good to ate, but they're too lazy +to step up an' inquire. Augh, be me +sowl! but it's the thruth I tell you. Now, +if it was a dacent throut that were there, +he'd be afther acceptin' yer invite in a +minit; but them bass—begorra! they're +not amaynable to the fly at all."</p> + +<p>Now, if there is anything that I have +been brought up to despise, it is fishing +with "bait." Fly-fishing I have learned +to regard as the only legitimate method +of taking any fish that any sportsman +ought to fish for, and fishing with a worm +and a cork I always looked upon as equal +to shooting a partridge on the ground in +May. I did not believe Mr. McGrath, +and I told him, as I resumed my graceful +occupation, that I didn't think there +were any fish there to catch. The idea +of their rejecting flies served up as mine +were was too preposterous.</p> +<p><a name="Page_459" id="Page_459"><span class="pagenum">Page 459</span></a></p> +<p>"Well," said he, "ye may be right, +sorr: there may be none there at all; +but I'll thry them wid a bait, anyhow."</p> + +<p>In another minute Mr. McGrath was +slashing about right and left a bait which +to my disordered vision looked as big as +a Yarmouth bloater. He threw it in every +direction with great vigor and precision, +and, as I could not help noticing, +with very little splashing. I turned away +with emotion, and continued my fly-fishing. +Presently I heard an exclamation +from Mr. McGrath, quickly succeeded +by an ominous whirring of his reel.</p> + +<p>"Luk at the vagabone, sorr! luk at +him now! Run, ye divil ye! run!" he +cried as he facilitated the departure of +the line, which was going out at a famous +rate. "Bedad! he's a fine mikroptheros! +Whisht! he's stopped.—Take that, ye +spalpeen ye!"</p> + +<p>As he said this he gave his rod a strong +jerk, that brought the line up with a "zip" +out of the water in a long ridge, and the +old bamboo cane bent until it cracked. +At the same moment, about a hundred +and fifty feet away, a splendid fish leaped +high and clear out of the water with +the line dangling from his mouth. Mr. +McGrath had struck him fairly, and away +he went across stream as hard as he could +tear.</p> + +<p>"Take the rod, sorr, while I get the +landing-net. Kape a tight line on him, +sorr: niver let him deludher ye. It's an +illigant mikroptheros he is, sure!"</p> + +<p>He returned from the boat in a moment +with the landing-net, but absolutely +refused to take back his rod: "Sorra +bit, sorr: bring him in. It's great fun +ye'll have wid the vagabone in that current! +No, sorr: bring him in yerself, +sorr: ye'll niver lay it at my door that +the first fish hooked wasn't brought in."</p> + +<p>I didn't need any instructions, and as +the fish ran for a rock some distance off, +I brought him up sharply, and he jumped +again as wickedly as he could full three +feet out of the water, and came straight +toward us with a rush. It was no use +trying, I couldn't reel up quick enough, +and he was under the eddy at our feet +before I had one-third of the line in. +Fortunately, he was securely hooked, +and there was no drop out from the slacking +of the line. He was in about twelve +feet of water, and as I brought the line +taut on him again he went off down +stream as fast as ever. I had the current +full against him this time, and I +brought him steadily up through it, and +held him well in hand. I swept him +around in front of Mr. McGrath's landing-net, +but he shied off so quickly that +I thought he would break the line. Away +down he went as stiffly and stubbornly +as possible, and there he lodged, rubbing +his nose against a rock and trying to get +rid of the hook. Half a dozen times I +dislodged him and brought him up, but +he was so wild and strong I did not dare +to force him in. At last he made a dash +for the ripple, and I gave him a quick +turn, and as he struck out of it Mr. McGrath +had his landing-net under him in +a twinkling, and he was out kicking on +the rock. He weighed four pounds six +ounces, and furnished conclusive evidence +that a bass of that weight can give +a great deal of very agreeable trouble +before he will consent to leave his element.</p> + +<p>"What was it," said I, "that you called +him when you struck him just now?"</p> + +<p>"What did I call him, sorr? A mikroptheros, +sorr."</p> + +<p>"And for Goodness' sake, McGrath, +what is a mikroptheros?"</p> + +<p>"Begorra! that's what it is," said Mr. +McGrath, throwing the bass overboard +to swim at the end of its leathern thong.</p> + +<p>"Well!" said I in amazement. "I never +heard such a name as that for a fish +in all my life!—a mikroptheros!"</p> + +<p>"Divil a more or less!" said Mr. McGrath +decidedly. "The Fish Commissioner +wor up here last week, an' sez he +to me, sez he, 'It's a mikroptheros, so it +is.'—'What's that?' sez I.—'That!' sez +he; and he slaps him into an illigant glass +bottle of sperrits, as I thought he was +goin' to say to me, 'McGrath, have ye a +mouth on ye?' an' I as dhry as if I'd et +red herrin's for a week. 'Yis,' sez he to +me, 'that's the right name of him;' and +wid that he writes it on a tag, and he +sends it off, this side up wid care, to the +musayum. Sure I copied it: be me +<a name="Page_460" id="Page_460"><span class="pagenum">Page 460</span></a>sowl, an' if ye doubt me word, here it +is."</p> + +<p>Mr. McGrath handed me a piece of +paper torn off the margin of a newspaper, +on which he had written legibly +enough, "<i>Micropteros Floridanus</i>" I +read it as gravely as I could, smiled +feebly at my own ignorance, and returned +it to him, saying, "Upon my word, +McGrath, you are perfectly right. What +a blessing it is to have had a classical +education!"</p> + +<p>"Sorra lie in it," said he proudly as he +replaced the slip in the crown of his hat; +"an' it's meself that's glad of it."</p> + +<p>I can but throw myself upon the mercy +of every respectable disciple of the art +before whom this confession may come +when I say that during this conversation +I was employed in taking off my flies and +in substituting therefor a strong bass-hook +and a cork, after the effective fashion +of Mr. McGrath. When this never-to-be-sufficiently-despised +device was ready I took from the bucket a small +and unhappy sunfish, immolated him +upon my hook by passing it through his +upper and lower lips, and cast him out +upon the stream. The red top of the +cork spun merrily down the current and +out among the oily ripples of the deep +water below, but Mr. McGrath could +beat me completely in handling his. I +noticed that I threw my fish so that it +struck hard upon the water, "knocking +the sowl out of it," as he said, while he +threw his hither and thither with the +greatest ease, always taking care to do +it with the least possible amount of violence, +and keeping it alive as long as +possible. However, it was not long before +my cork disappeared with a peculiar +style of departure abundantly indicative +of the cause, to which I replied by a +vigorous "strike." My cork came up +promptly, and with it my hook, bare. +The sunfish had found a grave within +the natural enemy of his species, and I +had missed my fish.</p> + +<p>"Divvle a wondher!" said Mr. McGrath +in reply to a remark to that effect—"being, +sorr, that ye're not familiar wid their +ways. Ye see, sorr, he comes up an' he +nips that fish be the tail, an' away wid +him to a convanient spot for to turn him +an' swallow him head first, by rason of +his sthickles an' fins all p'intin' the other +way. Whin he takes it, sorr, jist let him +run away wid it as far as he likes, but +the minit he turns to swallow it, an' says +to himself, 'What an illigant breakfast +this is, to be sure!' that minit slap the +hook into his jaw, an' hould on to him +for dear life."</p> + +<p>These excellent instructions I obeyed +with no little difficulty. My cork came +up in the back water under the rock on +which I stood, and there, almost at my +very feet, it disappeared. I could not +believe that a bass had taken it, but all +doubt on the subject was dispelled by the +shrill whir of my reel as the fine silk line +spun out at a tremendous rate. The fish +had darted across the current, and only +stopped after he had taken out over two +hundred feet of line.</p> + +<p>"Now, sorr, jist make a remark to him," +whispered Mr. McGrath; and I struck as +hard as I could. "Illigant, begorra!" said +he as the fish, maddened and frightened, +leaped out of the water. "Look at him +looking for a dentist, bedad!"</p> + +<p>It was peculiarly delightful to feel that +fish pull—to get a firm hand on him, and +have him charge off with an impetuosity +that involved more line or broken tackle—to +feel that vigorous, oscillating pull of +his, and to note the ease and strength +with which he swam against the powerful +current or dashed across the boiling +eddy below.</p> + +<p>It did not last long, however: he soon +spent himself, and Mr. McGrath received +him with a graceful swoop of his landing-net +and secured him. Four more +soon followed, all large fish—two to the +credit of Mr. McGrath and two to myself. +When caught they are of a dark +olive-green on the back and sides, the +fins quite black at the ends, and the +under side white. They change color +rapidly, and as their vitality decreases +become paler and paler, turning when +dead to a very light olive-green. The +mouth in general form resembles that +of the salmon family, but the size is +much larger in proportion to the weight +of the fish, and the arrangement of the +<a name="Page_461" id="Page_461"><span class="pagenum">Page 461</span></a>teeth is different. With its great strength +and its "game" qualities it is not surprising +that it should afford a good deal +of what is known as "sport."</p> + +<p>An attribute of man which is equivalent +to a strong natural instinct is his +disposition to "do murder." This may +account for his love of "sport," or it may +only be an hereditary trait derived from +the period when he had not yet concerned +himself with agriculture, but slew wild +beasts and used his implements of stone +to crack their bones and get the marrow +out. The instinct to slay birds, beasts +and fishes is certainly strong within us, +whatever be its remote origin, and it +is very little affected by what we are +pleased to call our civilization. Indeed, +it is hardly to be believed that one of the +primitive lords of creation, stalking about +in the condition of gorgeous irresponsibility +incident to the Stone Period, would +have lowered himself to the level of the +kid-gloved example of the present stage +of evolution who fishes in Maine. It +cannot be supposed that the pre-historic +gentleman would have disgraced himself +by catching fish he could not use. +He never caught ten times as many of +the <i>Salmo fontinalis</i> as he and all his +friends could eat, and then threw the +rest away to rot. This kind of thing has +prevailed to a great extent, but natural +causes have nearly brought it to an end. +The wholesale slaughter of the fish has +reduced their numbers, and a surfeit of +indecent sport can no longer be indulged +in. Such fishermen should be confined +by law to a large aquarium, in which the +fish they most affected could be taught to +undergo catching and re-catching until +the gentlemen had had enough. The +fish might grow to like it eventually, and +submit as a purely business matter to being +caught regularly for a daily consideration +in chopped liver and real flies. +But how our ancestor, just alluded to, +would despise the sport of this progressive +age! With his primitive but natural +acceptation of Nature's law of supply and +demand, what would he think of the gentlemen +who killed fish to rot in the sun +or drove a few thousand buffaloes over a +precipice—all for sport? It is probably +the propensity to "do murder" which accounts +for these things, for "sport," within +decent and proper limits, is a good +thing, and has been favored by the best +of men in all ages—fishing particularly, +because it predisposes to pleasant contemplation, +to equity of criticism in the +consideration of most matters of life, and +to no little self-benignancy. No one +knew this better (although Shakespeare +himself was a poacher) than Christopher +North, and where more fitly could the +brightest pages of the <i>Noctes Ambrosianæ</i> +have been conceived or inspired +than when their author was, rod in hand, +on the banks of a brawling Highland +trout-stream?</p> + +<p>The fish had ceased to bite where we +were, and at Mr. McGrath's suggestion +we dropped down the stream to where +my friend and his darkey were. His experience +with the flies had been similar +to mine, but he had too much regard for +his fine fly-rod, he said, to use it for +"slinging round a bait as big as a herring." +He had taken it to pieces and +put it away. He was sitting with his +elbows on his knees and a brier-root +pipe in his mouth, content in every feature, +a perfect picture of Placidity on a +Boulder.</p> + +<p>"Given up fishing?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Not much," he replied: "I've caught +nine beauties. Pete does all the work, +and I catch the fish."</p> + +<p>Sure enough, he had Pete, who was +one of the best fishermen on the river, +fishing away as hard as he could. Whenever +Pete hooked a fish my friend would +lay down his pipe and play the fish into +the landing-net. "It's beastly sport," he +said: "if I wasn't so confoundedly lazy +I couldn't stand it at all.—Hello, Pete! +got him?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sah—got him shuah;" and Pete +handed him the rod as the line spun out. +We watched the short struggle, and started +down stream, leaving him to his laziness +just as he was settling back in the +boat for a nap and telling Pete not to +wake him up unless the next was a big +one.</p> + +<p>By noon we had thirty-two fish—a +very fair and satisfactory experience. We +<a name="Page_462" id="Page_462"><span class="pagenum">Page 462</span></a>were about to change our position when +we were detained by a tremendous shouting +from the other boat, about half a +mile above us.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with them, McGrath?" +said I.</p> + +<p>"Bedad, sorr! I think it must be that +bucket there in the bow," he replied, +pointing to the article, which contained +our luncheon.</p> + +<p>I was quite satisfied that it was, and +there being a cool spring about forty feet +above us on the bank on the Virginia +side, we disembarked. In the excitement +of fishing I had not thought of +luncheon, but now I found I had a startling +appetite. So had my friend and his +assiduous darkey when they came in and +reported twenty fish.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he said, "I know we ought to +have a good many more, but Pete is so +lazy. It was all I could possibly do to +catch those myself."</p> + +<p>With a flat rock for a table, the grass +to sit upon, and the bubbling music of +the little stream that flowed from the +spring as an accompaniment, the ham +and bread and butter, the pickles and +the hard-boiled eggs, and even the pie +with its mysterious leather crust and its +doubtful inside of dried peaches, tasted +wonderfully well. We did not venture +out upon the river again until three +o'clock, our worthy guides agreeing that +the fish do not bite well between noon and +that hour, and both of us being disposed +to rest a little. My friend stretched himself +on the thick grass, and when his +pipe was exhausted went fast asleep, and +snored with great precision and power +to a mild sternutatory accompaniment +by Mr. McGrath and Pete. I employed +myself in bringing up my largest bass +from the boat to sit for his picture in a +little basin in the rock under the spring. +After he had floundered himself into a +comparatively rational and quiet condition, +much after the fashion of a gentleman +reluctant to have his portrait taken under +the auspices of the police, I succeeded +in committing him to paper. He was a +handsome fish, and eminently deserving +of the distinction thus conferred upon +him.</p> + +<p>Sleeping in the grass on a summer +afternoon is a bucolic luxury I never +fully appreciated. When I stirred up +my friend he was red, perspirational and +full of lively entomological suspicions. +He slapped the legs of his pantaloons +vigorously in spots, moved his arms uneasily, +took off his shirt-collar and implored +me to look down his back.</p> + +<p>"There's nothing there," I reported. +"I know how it is myself: a fellow always +feels that way when he goes to +sleep in the grass."</p> + +<p>"Any woodticks here?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Begorra! plenty," said Mr. McGrath, +sitting up. "They et a child," he added +with perfect seriousness of manner, "down +here below last summer." McGrath's eyes +twinkled when my friend began to talk +of peeling off and jumping into the river +after a general search. He was finally +reassured, and we started out. We had +even better sport than in the morning, +and accumulated a splendid string of fish +each. On the way down we passed two +boats in which were some gentlemen, +evidently foreigners, engaged in throwing +flies with apparently the same results +that we had attained in the morning.</p> + +<p>"Do you know who those people are?" +I asked McGrath.</p> + +<p>"I dunno, sorr," said he, "but I think +they are from one of the legations at +Washington. They come up for a day's +fishin' all along of the illigant fishin' a +party from the same place had one day +last week I suppose;" and he smiled.</p> + +<p>"How was that, McGrath?"</p> + +<p>"It wor last week, sorr; and I wor up +the river be meself, an' I had thirty illigant +fish thrailin' undher the boat comin' +down. It wor just where they are I +seen two boats full of gintlemen, an' I +dhropped alongside. They wor swells, +sure. They had patint rods, an' patint +reels, an' patint flies, an' patint boots, +an' patint coats, an' patint hats, an' the +divil knows what. Bedad! they wor so +fine that sez I to meself, sez I, 'Bedad! +if I wor a bass I'd say, "Gintlemen, don't +go to no throuble on my account: I'll +git into the boat this minit."'—'Been fishin', +me man?' sez one of them to me. +'Sorra much, yer honor,' sez I.—'It's +<a name="Page_463" id="Page_463"><span class="pagenum">Page 463</span></a>very strange, you know,' sez he, 'that +they don't bite at all to-day. You haven't +caught any, have you?'—'Well, sorr,' sez +I, 'I did dhrop on a few little ones as I +come down.'—'Oh, did you, really?' sez +another one, puttin' a glass in his eye +and standin' up excited like. 'Why, my +good man,' sez he, 'be good enough to +'old them up, you know. We'd like so +much to see them!'—Wid that, sorr, I +up wid the sthring as high as I could +lift it, an' it weighin' nigh onto a hundred +pound. Well, they were that wild +they didn't know what to make of it. +One of them sez, sez he, 'The beggar's +been a hauling of a net, he has.'—'Divvle +a bit more than yerself,' sez I. 'There's +me impliments, an', what's more, if ye +wor to stay here till next week the sorra +fish can ye ketch, because, bedad! ye +dunno how.' Wid that they put their +heads together, and swore it ud disgrace +them to go home to Washington without +a fish, you know; an' how much would +I take for the lot? Sez I, 'I have twenty-five +more down here in a creel in the +river: that's fifty-five,' sez I. 'Ye can +have the lot for twinty dollars.'—'It's a +go,' sez he; an' ever since that there's +letters comin' up from Washington askin' +if the wather is in good ordher, and +what is the accommodations? Bedad! +I'm wondherin' if them as we passed +wouldn't be likin' a dozen or two on +the same terms?"</p> + +<p>Nothing finishes up a day's bass-fishing +better than a good hot supper of broiled +bass, country sausage, fried ham and +eggs, and coffee. The cooking can generally +be managed, and the appetite is +guaranteed. <i>Experto crede</i>.</p> + +<p class="author">W. Mackay Laffan.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="The_Chrysalis_Of_A_Bookworm" id="The_Chrysalis_Of_A_Bookworm"></a>The Chrysalis Of A Bookworm.</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I read, O friend, no pages of old lore,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Which I loved well, and yet the wingèd days,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">That softly passed as wind through green spring ways<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And left a perfume, swift fly as of yore,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though in clear Plato's stream I look no more,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Neither with Moschus sing Sicilian lays.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Nor with bold Dante wander in amaze,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor see our Will the Golden Age restore.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I read a book to which old books are new,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And new books old. A living book is mine—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In age, two years: in it I read no lies—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In it to myriad truths I find the clew—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A tender, little child; but I divine<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Thoughts high as Dante's in its clear blue eyes.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="author">Maurice F. Egan.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_464" id="Page_464"><span class="pagenum">Page 464</span></a></p> +<h2><a name="A_Law_Unto_Herself" id="A_Law_Unto_Herself"></a>A Law Unto Herself.</h2> + +<h3>Chapter X.</h3> + + +<p>Miss Fleming arrived that evening +while Jane was on the water. +She was in the habit of coming out to the +Hemlock Farm for a day's holiday, and +went directly to her own room as though +she were at home. When she stepped +presently out on the porch, where the +gentlemen had gone to smoke, a soft +black silk showing every line of her supple +figure, glimpses of the rounded arms +revealed with every movement of the +loose sleeves, one or two thick green +leaves in her light hair—ugly, quiet, +friendly—they all felt more at home than +they had done before. There was a +pitcher of punch by the captain's elbow: +she tasted it, threw in a dash of liquor, +poured him out a glass and sat down +beside him, and he felt that a gap was +comfortably filled.</p> + +<p>"You have turned your back on Philadelphia, +they tell me, Miss Fleming," +complained Judge Rhodes. "New York +sucks in all the young blood of the country—the +talent and energy."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I came simply to sell my wares. +New York is my market, but Philadelphia +will always be home to me," in her +peculiar pathetic voice. "I left good +friends there," with one of her bewildering +glances straight into the judge's +beady eyes, at which his flabby face was +suffused with heat.</p> + +<p>"You do not forget your friends, that's +certain," he said, lowering his voice. +"That was a delicate compliment, sending +my portrait back to the Exhibition. +I felt it very much, I assure you."</p> + +<p>Cornelia bowed silently. Neither she +nor the judge said anything about the +round-numbered cheque which he had +sent her for it. In the moonlight they +preferred to let the affair stand on a +sentimental basis.</p> + +<p>Mr. Van Ness meanwhile eyed Miss +Fleming's pose and rounded figure with +a watery gleam of complacency.</p> + +<p>"An exceptional woman," was his verdict. +He turned the conversation to art, +and asked innumerable questions with +a profound humility. Cornelia replied +eagerly, until the fact crept out from the +judge that there was not an æsthetic +dogma nor a gallery in the world with +which he was not familiar. Then to +pottery, in which field his modesty was +as profound, until the judge pushed him, +as it were, to a corner, when he acknowledged +himself the possessor of a few +"nice bits."</p> + +<p>"I have some old Etruscan pieces +which I should like you to see, Miss +Fleming," with his mild, deprecating +cough, "and a bit of Capo di Monte, +and the only real specimen of Henri +Deux in the country."</p> + +<p>"I must see them," emphatically. +"Where are your cabinets?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, nowhere," with a shrug. "My +poor little specimens have never been +unpacked since I returned to this country. +They are boxed up in a friend's cellar."</p> + +<p>"God bless me, Cornelia!" cried the +captain in a muffled tone, "how could +Mr. Van Ness spend his time koo-tooing +to cracked pots? He has, as I may say, +the future of Pennsylvania in his hand. +When I think what he is doing for the +friendless children—thousands of'em—" +The punch had heated the captain's zeal +to the point where words failed him.</p> + +<p>After that the friendless children swept +lighter subjects out of sight. Mr. Van +Ness, whose humility in this light rose to +saintly heights, had all the statistics of +the Bureaux of Charity at his tongue's +end. He had studied the Dangerous +Classes in every obscure corner of the +world. He could give you the <i>status +quo</i> of any given tribe in India just as +easily as the time-table on the new railway +in Egypt. No wonder that he could +tell you in a breath the percentage of +orphans, deserted minors, children of +vicious parents, in his own State, and +the amount <i>per capita</i> required to civilize +and Christianize them. As he talked +<a name="Page_465" id="Page_465"><span class="pagenum">Page 465</span></a>of this matter his eyes became suffused +with tears. The great Home for these +helpless wards of the State he described +at length, from its situation on a high +table-land of the Alleghanies and the +dimensions of the immense buildings +down to the employments of the children +and the capacity of the laundry—a perfect +Arcadia with all the modern +improvements, where Crime was to be +transformed wholesale into Virtue.</p> + +<p>"Where is this institution?" asked +Miss Fleming. "It is strange I never +heard of it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, it is not built as yet: we have +not raised the funds," Mr. Van Ness replied +with a smothered sigh.</p> + +<p>The judge patted one foot and looked +at him compassionately. It was a devilishly +queer ambition to be the savior +of those dirty little wretches in the back +alleys. But if a man had given himself +up, body and soul, to such a pursuit, it +was hard measure that he must be +thwarted in it.</p> + +<p>Miss Fleming also bent soft sympathetic +eyes on her new friend. The +Home was not built, eh? Not a brick +laid? She wondered whether that box +with the priceless treasures existed in his +friend's cellar or in his brain: she wondered +whether he had not seen those pictures +of the old masters in photographs, +or whether he had travelled in Japan and +the obscure corners of the earth in the flesh +or in books. There was more than the +wonted necessity upon her to establish +sympathetic relations with this new man: +she had never seen a finer presence: the +beard and brow quite lifted his masculinity +into æsthetic regions; she caught +glimpses, too, of an unfamiliar mongrel +species of intellect with which she would +relish Platonic relations. Yet with this +glow upon her she regarded the reformer's +noble face and benignant blond beard +doubtfully, thinking how she used to stick +pins in brilliant bubbles when she was +a child, and nothing would be left but a +patch of dirty water.</p> + +<p>"Jane is out on the river, as usual?" +she asked presently.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said her father: "Mr. Neckart +is with her. Neither of them will ever +stay under a roof if they can help it. +They ought to have a dash of Indian +blood in their veins to account for such +vagabondizing."</p> + +<p>"Is Bruce Neckart here?" with a +change in her tone which made the captain +look up at her involuntarily.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"I thought he was in Washington: I +did not expect to meet him."</p> + +<p>The judge puffed uneasily at his cigar. +He was a family man, with a stout wife +and married son. He did not meet Miss +Fleming once a year, but he felt a vague +jealousy of Neckart.</p> + +<p>"By the way, you must be old acquaintances?" +he said abruptly. "Both +from Delaware? Kent county?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes," with a shrill womanish laugh, +very different from her usual sweet boyish +ha! ha! "Many's the day we rowed +on the bay or dredged for oysters together, +dirty and ragged and happy. +There is not very much difference in +our ages," seeing his look of surprise. +"I look younger than I am, and Bruce +has grown old fast. At least, so I hear. +I have not seen him for years."</p> + +<p>She was silent after that, and preoccupied +as her admirers had never seen her, +and presently, hearing Jane's and Neckart's +steps on the path, she rose hastily +and bade them good-night. They each +shook hands with her, that being one of +the sacred rites in the Platonic friendships +so much in vogue now-a-days among clever +men and women. Mr. Van Ness offered +his hand last, and Cornelia smiled cordially +as she took it. But it was clammy +and soft. She rubbed her fingers with +a shudder of disgust as she hurried up +to her own room. There she walked +straight to her glass and turned up the +lamp beside it, looking long and fixedly +at her face. She knew with exactness +the extent of its ugliness and its power.</p> + +<p>"It is too late now even if it ever could +have been," she said quietly, and put out +the light. Then she went to the window. +Mr. Neckart had left Jane inside, and, +not joining the other men, turned back +to the garden. She saw the bulky dark +figure as it passed under her window.</p> + +<p>She stretched out her hands as if for +<a name="Page_466" id="Page_466"><span class="pagenum">Page 466</span></a>a caress, with the palms pressed close. +"Oh, Bruce!" she said under her breath. +"Bruce!"</p> + +<p>After he had passed out of sight she +stood thinking over all the men who had +made a comrade of her since she saw +him last—how they had handled her +fingers and looked into her eyes; how +her every thought and fancy had grown +common and unclean through much +usage; how she had dragged out whatever +maidenly feeling she had in the old +times, and made capital of it to bring +these companions to her who were neither +lovers nor friends.</p> + +<p>"When I could not have the food +which I wanted. I took the husks which +the swine did eat," she said, leaving the +window, with a short laugh. "Well, I +could not die of starvation."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>Chapter XI.</h3> + + +<p>When Jane woke the next morning a +bluebird was singing outside of the window: +she tried to mimic him before she +was out of bed, and sang scraps of songs +to herself as she dressed. The captain +heard her in his room below, but pretended +to be asleep when she came down as +usual to lay out his clothes, for, although +she insisted that her father should have +Dave as a valet, she left him but little to +do.</p> + +<p>Watching her from under the covers, +the captain saw that she had left off the +black snood and tied her hair with a +band of rose-colored ribbon. Her lips +were ruddy and her eyes alight: once or +twice she laughed to herself.</p> + +<p>"What high day or holiday is it, Jane?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, every day is a high day now!" +running to kiss him. "I was just thinking +how comfortable money is, and how +glad I am that we have it," glancing +about delighted at his luxurious toilet +appointments before the low wood-fire. +Then she spread out his dressing-gown +and velvet smoking-cap, and eyed with +her head on one side the fine shirt and +its costly studs.</p> + +<p>"Do you remember the rag-carpet in +your room which we thought such a triumph? +and the old tin shaving-cup? +Now, my lord, look out upon your estate!" +opening the window. "Your musicians +have come to waken you, and your servitors +stand without," as Buff tapped at +the door with hot water.</p> + +<p>"He is as comfortable as a baby wrapped +in lamb's wool," she thought as she +ran down the stairs. "And this air is so +pure and the sun so bright! Oh, he +must grow strong here! Anybody would +be cured here—anybody!"</p> + +<p>The captain followed her to the barnyard. +It was one of her inexorable prescriptions +for him that he should drink a +glass of warm milk-punch before breakfast, +and smell the cow's breath during +the operation. She was milking the white +cow herself, while the pseudo sempstress, +Nichols, waited with the goblet, and the +bandy-legged shoemaker, Twiss, stood +on guard, eyeing Brindle's horns suspiciously.</p> + +<p>"Now the glass! These are the strippings. +Oh you'll soon learn, Betty! +You'll make butter as well as you used +to make dresses badly."</p> + +<p>The little widow and Twiss laughed, +as they always did at Jane's weak jokes, +and took the punch to the captain. She +was the finest wit of her day in their +eyes. The hostler's boy ran down from +the stable to speak to her. She thought +he had as innocent a face as she had ever +seen. No doubt he would have gone to +perdition if Neckart had not rescued him. +She stopped to talk to him with beaming +eyes, and meeting Betty's toddling baby +took it up and tossed it in the air, and +then walked on, carrying the soft little +thing in her arms. The farm was like +the Happy Valley this morning! God +was so good to her! She could warm +and comfort all these people. Then she +turned into the woods and sat down on +a fallen log. It was the place where they +had stopped to rest yesterday, Neckart +lying at her feet. There was the imprint +still in the dead moss where his arm had +lain. She looked guiltily about, and then +laid her hand in the broken moss with a +quick passionate touch. The baby caught +her chin in its fingers. She hugged it to +her breast, and kissed it again and again. +<a name="Page_467" id="Page_467"><span class="pagenum">Page 467</span></a>From the hemlock overhead a tanager +suddenly flashed up into the air with a +shrill peal of song. Jane looked up, her +face and throat dyed crimson. Did he +know? She glanced down at the grass, +at the friendly trees all alive with rustling +and chirping. The sky overhead was so +deep and warm a blue to-day. It seemed +as if they all knew that he loved her.</p> + +<p>The captain found Mr. Neckart standing +on the stoop listening to some sound +that came up from the woods.</p> + +<p>"It is Jane singing," he said. "You +would not hear her once in a year. Hereditary +gift! In the old Swedish annals +we read of the remarkable voices of the +Svens."</p> + +<p>"I never heard her sing before." Yet +he had known at once that it was she. +It was the most joyous of songs, but +there was a foreboding pathos in the +voice which moved him as no other +sound had ever done.</p> + +<p>"You are not going before breakfast?" +cried the captain.</p> + +<p>"Yes, and I shall not be able to come +again for a long time. Say to Miss Swendon—But +no. I will go and bid her +good-bye."</p> + +<p>He met her as she was crossing the +plank thrown across the brook, and they +stopped by the little hand-rail, not looking +directly at each other: "I came to +bid you good-morning."</p> + +<p>"Do you take the early train, then?"</p> + +<p>"Yes." He did not mean to tell her +that he would not come again. The +more ordinary their parting the sooner +she would forget it and him. He had +thought the matter out during the night, +and being a man who was apt to under-rate +himself, was convinced that the feeling +which she had betrayed was but that +transient flush of preference which any +very young and innocent girl is apt to +give to the first man of whom she makes +a companion.</p> + +<p>"There is nothing in me likely to win +enduring love from her. A more intellectual +woman, indeed—" He had gone +over the argument again and again. +When he was out of sight her fancy +would soon turn to this new lover, so +much better suited to her in every respect. +For himself—But he had no +right, to think of himself. He struck that +thought down fiercely again as they stood +together on the bridge. No more right +than he would have, were he dead, to +drag down this young creature into his +grave.</p> + +<p>He patted the child on the head as it +clung to her dress, and talked of the +chance of more rain with perfect correctness +and civility; and when Jane managed +to raise her eyes to his face she +found it grave and preoccupied, as it +usually was over the morning papers. +He saw Van Ness coming smiling to +meet her.</p> + +<p>"It is time for me to go," he said, his +eyes passing slowly over her: then with +a hasty bow, not touching her hand, +he struck through the woods to the station, +thinking as he went how she was +standing then on the bridge in the sunshine, +with the man whom she would +marry beside her. She looked after him, +her eyes full of still, deep content. He +loved her. She had forgotten everything +else.</p> + +<p>"A perfect morning, Miss Swendon," +said Mr. Van Ness, stroking his magnificent +golden beard. "You see just this +deep azure sky above the Sandwich Islands. +Now, I remember watching such a +dawn on Mauna Loa. Ah-h, <i>you</i> would +have appreciated that. Our friend has +gone, eh? Most active, energetic man! +I heard him tell your father he should +not return soon again."</p> + +<p>"Not return?" stopping in her slow +walk.</p> + +<p>"No. It really must be impossible for +an editor to spare time often for visits to +even such an Arcadia as this. No stock market +or political news in Arcadia, +eh?" with a benevolent gurgle of a +laugh. "Business! business! Miss Swendon. +Ah, how it engrosses the majority +of men!" shaking his head ponderously.</p> + +<p>She said nothing. It was as if she +had been suddenly wakened out of a +dream in the crowd of a dusty market-place. +He had gone back to the world, +to his real business and his real trouble. +She, with her love and her intended cure +<a name="Page_468" id="Page_468"><span class="pagenum">Page 468</span></a>for him, was a silly fool wandering in a +fantastic Arcadia.</p> + +<p>Miss Fleming was walking up and +down on the porch as they came up, +more carefully dressed than usual. The +captain had just told her that Neckart +had gone.</p> + +<p>"Ah? I'm very sorry," carelessly. +"I should have been glad to see him +again. Though no doubt he has forgotten +me."</p> + +<p>She went forward to meet Jane with a +smile, but a withered gray look under +her eyes. "I have been making a tour +of your principality," she said as they +went in to breakfast. "I see you have +brought out a colony of Philadelphia +paupers. Twiss, and Betty, and the +rest."</p> + +<p>"They were not paupers," said Jane, +taking her place behind the urn. "Did +you see into what a great boy Top has +grown? And Peter?" It gave her a +warm glow at heart to remember these +people just now. At least, there her +care had not been fantastic or thrown +away.</p> + +<p>"I hardly expected you to take up the +rôle of guardian angel. It requires study, +after all, to play it successfully," pursued +Cornelia with an amiable smile, cutting +her butter viciously.—"Very young girls +are apt to be impetuous in their charities, +and damage more than they help," turning +to the judge. "These poor people, +for instance. Betty had her kinsfolk +about her in Philadelphia, her church +and her gossips. She complained bitterly +to me this morning that she 'had no +company here but the cows: Miss Swendon +might as well have whisked her off +into a haythen desart.'"</p> + +<p>"She complained to you!" cried the +captain. "Why, the trouble and money +which Jane has given to that woman and +her family! They were starving, I assure +you!"</p> + +<p>Jane listened at first with her usual +quiet good-humor. Miss Fleming's waspish +temper generally amused her, as it +would have done a man (if he was not +her husband). But she began to grow +anxious.</p> + +<p>"You really think Betty is not contented +here?" her hand a little unsteady +as she poured the cream into the cups.</p> + +<p>"Contented? She seems miserable +enough. Home is home, you know, if +it is only a cellar and starvation. But +perhaps"—with a shrug—"that class +of Irish are never happy without a grievance. +Now, Twiss, it appears to me, +has just ground for complaint.—A shoemaker," +turning to the judge a face +beaming with fun, "whom this young +lady has transported and set down in +charge of gardens and hot-houses. He +does not know a hoe from a mower, and +he is too old to learn. He had a good +trade: now he has nothing."</p> + +<p>"But he could not live by his trade," +cried Jane.</p> + +<p>"Well, cobbling is looking up now. +In any case, you have pauperized him."</p> + +<p>"That's bad—bad! Now, in Virginia +we used to feed everybody who came +along!" said the judge, shaking his +head. "But I've learned wisdom in the +cities. Every bit of bread given to a +beggar degrades human nature and rots +society to the core."</p> + +<p>"But suppose he is starving?" urged +the captain. "The Good Samaritan +wasn't afraid of pauperizing that poor +devil on the road."</p> + +<p>"Let him starve. He will have preserved +his self-respect. The Good Samaritan +knew nothing of political economy, +sir."</p> + +<p>Jane left her breakfast untasted. She +understood nothing about political economy, +but she saw that she had done irreparable +injury to these people whom she +had tried to serve—God knew with what +anxiety and tenderness of heart. In one +case, at least, there had been no mistake.</p> + +<p>"Did you see Phil?" she said, turning +with brightening countenance to Miss +Fleming. "We intend to have Phil educated. +He is such a keen-witted little +fellow."</p> + +<p>Miss Fleming laughed outright now: +"Mr. Neckart's protégé? Yes, I saw +him. He has been stealing tobacco and +money from Dave, it appears, ever since +he came, and was found out this morning. +There was a horrible row in the +stable as I passed."</p> +<p><a name="Page_469" id="Page_469"><span class="pagenum">Page 469</span></a></p> +<p>"Of course he stole!" said the judge +triumphantly. "I tell you, the more efforts +you make to reform the dangerous +classes the more hardened you will grow. +It's hopeless—hopeless!"</p> + +<p>Her other listeners each promptly presented +their theory. Like all intelligent +Americans, they were provided with theories +on every social problem, and were +ready to hang it on an individual stable-boy +or any other nail of a fact which +might offer. Jane alone sat silent. She +did not hear when her father spoke to +her once or twice.</p> + +<p>"You are disappointed," Mr. Van +Ness's soft soothing voice murmured in +her ear. "I know how these baffled efforts +chill the heart. I will explain to +you the machinery which I propose to +bring to bear on these classes."</p> + +<p>"I don't know anything about machinery +or classes. Twiss and Betty +were friends of mine, and I tried to help +them, and have failed."</p> + +<p>Miss Fleming, who was watching her +furtively, saw her dull eyes raised presently +and rest on the captain, who with +a red face and bursts of laughter was +telling one of his interminable stories.</p> + +<p>"This girl," Cornelia said to herself, +"has everything which I have not—beauty, +wealth, Bruce Neckart's love. Yet +she looks at that weak old man as if he +were all that was left her in the world." +She had put Jane before on the general +basis of antipathy which she had to everything +in the world that was not masculine, +but the feeling had kindled since +last night into active dislike.</p> + +<p>When breakfast was over and their +guests had gone to their rooms to make +ready to meet the train, Jane decoyed the +captain away to Bruno's kennel, where +he was tied during Mr. Van Ness's stay. +Once out of sight she retied his cravat, +arranged his white hair to her liking, +stroked his sunken cheeks. Here was +something actual and real. She knew +now that she had never had anything +that was truly her own but the kind foolish +face looking down on her. She never +would have anything more. Only an +hour ago life had opened for her wide +and fair as the dawn: now it had narrowed +to this old hand in hers, to his +breath, that came and went—O God, +how feebly!</p> + +<p>"You are looking stronger to-day, father. +You are gaining every day. Oh +that is quite certain! Very soon we shall +have you as well and strong as you were +at forty."</p> + +<p>What if she had not had money this +last year? He never could have lived +through it. God had been kind to her—kind! +She pressed his hand to her +breast with a quick glance out to the +bright sky. The Captain saw her chin +quivering. His own thoughts ran partly +in the same line as hers.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm gaining, no doubt of it. +Though I never could have pulled +through this year if we had had to live +in the old way. God bless Will Laidley +for leaving the money as he did!"</p> + +<p>"It was not his to leave otherwise!" +she cried indignantly.</p> + +<p>"Tut, tut, Jane! Of course it was his. +By every law. He could have flung it +away where he chose; and he had a perfect +right to do it."</p> + +<p>It was not God who had been kind to +her, then: it was only that she had stolen +the money?</p> + +<p>"Come, Jenny: we must go back to +the house."</p> + +<p>"In a moment, father. Go on: I will +follow you."</p> + +<p>She walked up and down the tan-bark +path for a while. She was sure of nothing. +Wherever she had done what seemed +to her right and natural, she was barred +and checked by the world's laws +and experience. She had brought these +starving wretches out of a hell upon +earth into this paradise, and even they +laughed at her want of wisdom: the very +money which was her own in the sight +of God, and which had lengthened her +father's life, ought to be given back to-day +to the poor, its rightful owners. If +there was any other cause for her to fight +blindly against the narrow matter-of-fact +routine which ruled her life, she did not +name it even to herself.</p> + +<p>Looking toward the house, she saw her +father escorting their guests to the gate, +where the carriage waited, David resplendent +<a name="Page_470" id="Page_470"><span class="pagenum">Page 470</span></a>on the box. The captain +walked with a feeble kind of swagger: +his voice came back to her in weak gusts +of laughter. She laid her hand on a tree, +glancing about her with a firm sense of +possession. "The property is mine," she +said, "and I'll keep it as long as he lives, +if all the paupers in the United States +were starving at the gates!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>Chapter XII.</h3> + + +<p>Mr. Van Ness returned to the Hemlock +Farm at stated periods during the +summer. He had, to be plain, sat down +before Jane's heart to besiege it with the +same ponderous benign calm with which +he ate an egg or talked of death. There +was a bronze image of Buddha in the +hall at the Farm, the gaze of the god fixed +with ineffable content, as it had been +for ages, on his own stomach.</p> + +<p>Jane went up to it one day after an +hour's talk with Mr. Van Ness. "This +creature maddens me," she said. "I always +want to break it into pieces to see +it alter."</p> + +<p>Little Mr. Waring, who had come with +Van Ness, hurried up as a connoisseur in +bronzes, adjusting his eye-glasses. "Why, +it is faultless, Miss Swendon!" he cried.</p> + +<p>"That is precisely what makes it intolerable."</p> + +<p>Much of Jane's large, easy good-humor +was gone by this time. She had grown +thin, was eager, restless, uncertain of +what she ought or ought not to do, even +in trifles.</p> + +<p>Mr. Waring and Judge Rhodes were +both at the Farm now. They ran over +to New York every week or two. Phil +Waring was not a marrying man, but it +was part of his duty as a leader in society +to be intimate with every important heiress +or beauty in the two cities. Out of +sincere compassion to Jane's stupendous +ignorance he would sit for hours stroking +his moustache, his elbows on his knees, +his feet on a rung of the chair, dribbling +information as to the nice effects in the +Water-Color Exhibition, or miraculous +"finds" of Spode or Wedgwood in old +junk-shops, or the most authentic information +as to why the Palfreys had no +cards to Mrs. Livingstone's kettledrums, +while Jane listened with a quizzical gleam +in her eyes, as she did to the little bantam +hen outside cackling and strutting +over its new egg.</p> + +<p>"We must have you in society this +winter," he urged. "It is a duty you +owe in your position. You have no +choice about it."</p> + +<p>"You are right, Mr. Waring," called +the captain from the corner where he sat +with Judge Rhodes. "The child must +have friends in her own class." He +dropped his voice again: "The truth is, +Rhodes, she has no ties like other girls. +Her dog and two or three old women +and some children—that is all she knows +of life. It's enough while she has me. +But I shall not be here long, now. Not +many months."</p> + +<p>The eyes of the two men met.</p> + +<p>"Does she know?" asked the judge +after a while.</p> + +<p>"No." The captain's gaunt features +worked: he trotted his foot to some tune, +looking down from the window and whistling +under his breath. "It was for this +I sent for you," he added presently. "If +I could only see her settled, married, before +I go! She is no more fit to be left +alone in the world than Bruno."</p> + +<p>The judge shook his head in gloomy +assent. His own opinion was that Jane +would follow her own instincts in a dog-like +fashion if her father was out of the +way, and God only knew where they +would lead her! He had brought his +own girls, Rose and Netty, with him to +visit her, in order that she might have a +domestic feminine influence upon her. +They found, accidentally, that she did +not know a word of any catechism, and, +terrified, loaned her religious novels to +convert her: she took them graciously, +but never cut the leaves. There were to +them even more heathenish indications +in her hoopless straight skirts: the good +little creatures zealously cut and trimmed +a dress for her from the very last patterns. +She put it on, and straightway +went through bog and brake with Bruno +for mushrooms, coming back with it in +tatters. They chattered in their thin falsetto +<a name="Page_471" id="Page_471"><span class="pagenum">Page 471</span></a>voices the last Culpepper gossip into +her patient ear—the story of Rosey's +balls at Old Point, and Netty's lovers, +all of whom were "splendid matches +until impohverished by the war." She +listened to their chirping with amused +eyes, tapping them, when they were +through, approvingly on the head as +though they were clever canaries. The +girls told their father that they "feared +her principles leaned toward infidelity, +and that it was never safe to be intimate +with these original women," and had +gone home the next day, not waiting for +the judge. They washed their hands of +her, and gloved them again, but he still +felt responsible for her. After he left +the captain he went to her, fatherly interest +radiant in every feature: "Mr. +Waring is right, Jane. It is high time +that you were taking your part in society. +Your father wishes it."</p> + +<p>"I will do whatever he wishes," quietly.—"You +did not know us when we +lived in the old house in Southwark, Mr. +Waring. We invented our patents then. +Sometimes we could afford to go to the +gallery at the theatre when the play was +good. Father and the newsboys would +lead the clapping. And we went once a +year in our patched shoes a-fishing for a +holiday. Those were good times."</p> + +<p>"Perfect child of Nature!" telegraphed +Mr. Waring uneasily to the judge. +"How Mrs. Wilde will rejoice in you, +Miss Swendon! Nature is her specialty. +She is coming to call this morning.—Miss +Swendon," turning anxiously to +the judge, "can have no better sponsor +in society than Mrs. Wilde. She only +can give the accolade to all aspirants. +No amount of money will force an entrance +at her doors. There must be +blood—blood. 'Swendon?' she said +when I spoke to her about this call. +'The Swedish Svens? I remember. +Queen Christina's gallant lieutenant +was her great-grandfather. Good stock. +None better. The girl must belong to +our circle.' So, now it is all settled!" +rubbing his hands and smiling.</p> + +<p>"Jane is careless," said the captain +eagerly. "People of the best fashion +have called, and she has not even left +cards. Her dress too—Now a Paris +gown, fringes and—"</p> + +<p>The three men looked at her at that +with a sudden imbecile despair, at which +she laughed and went out.</p> + +<p>The captain found her presently down +by the boat in which she had heard +Neckart's story. She bailed it out and +cleaned it carefully every day, but she +had never gone on the river in it since +that night.</p> + +<p>"Father," stepping ashore, "what have +I done that I must be turned into another +woman?"</p> + +<p>"Now, Jenny, making models and +crabbing were well enough for you as +a child. But, as Waring justly observes, +the society to which you belong is inexorable +in its rules for a woman."</p> + +<p>She flung out her arms impatiently, +and then clasped them above her head. +It seemed as if a thousand fine clammy +webs were being spun about her.</p> + +<p>"If you had any especial talent, as +Waring says—if you were artistic or +musical, or concerned in some asylum-work—you +could take your own path, +independent of society. But—" looking +down at her anxiously.</p> + +<p>"I understand. I don't know what I +was made for."</p> + +<p>It was the first time in her life that she +had been driven in to consider herself. +She stood grave and intent, saying nothing +for some time. Every other woman +had some definite aim. The whole world +was marching by, keeping step to a neat, +orderly little tune. They made calls, +they gave alms, they dressed, all of the +same fashion.</p> + +<p>"Why not be like other people?" her +father was saying, making a burden to +her thought.</p> + +<p>"I don't know why," drearily.</p> + +<p>"What would you have, Jenny?" taking +her hand in his.</p> + +<p>"Father, I never loved but one or two +people in the world. You and Bruno +and—not many others. I can do nothing +outside of them."</p> + +<p>"Nonsense! You cannot be a law to +yourself, child. God knows I want to +see you happy!" his voice breaking. +"But," straightening his eye-glasses, +<a name="Page_472" id="Page_472"><span class="pagenum">Page 472</span></a>"Waring says, very justly, you are out +of the groove which all other girls are +in." He stopped inquiringly, but she +did not answer. She was a strongly-built +woman in mind and body, and just +then she felt her strength. The blood +rushed in a swift current through her +veins. Why should she be hampered +with these thousand meaningless, sham +duties? She was fit for but one purpose—to +serve two men whom she loved. +Her father was ill, and he pushed her +from him into Society; and Bruce Neckart +was alone, and with a worse fate than +death creeping on him, and he—</p> + +<p>"Why does not Mr. Neckart come to +us?" she asked abruptly. "It is months +since I have seen him."</p> + +<p>"His health is failing. There is some +trouble of the brain threatened. I hear +that he is going to give up the paper, +and is settling up his business to go to +Europe." Her question startled him: he +watched her with a new keen suspicion.</p> + +<p>"If this must come on him, why should +he not come here to bear it? I can nurse +you both. Surely, that is as good work +as returning calls or learning to dress in +Parisian style," with a short laugh.</p> + +<p>The captain's face gathered intelligence +as he listened. He knew her secret now. +For a moment he felt a wrench of pity +for her. But love, with the captain, had +been a sentimental fever ending in a cold +ague: he had experienced light heats and +chills of it many a time since. This wild +fancy of the girl's would speedily burn itself +out if judiciously damped. He would +at once take the matter in hand.</p> + +<p>"Neckart," he said deliberately, eying +her to gauge the effect of his words, "is a +man of sense and knowledge of the world. +He knows his condition, and in the little +time left to him he attends to his business +and important political affairs, instead of +nursing a romantic friendship which cannot +serve him, and would only compromise +you."</p> + +<p>"Compromise me? I don't understand +you, father."</p> + +<p>"A woman could not render such service +as you offer except to her betrothed +lover or husband."</p> + +<p>"Why, he would understand."</p> + +<p>"But Society, child—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Society!" with a laugh. "But +you do not remember!" clasping her +hands on his shoulder. "If this thing +comes upon him—he has looked forward +to it all his life—he has nobody. He is +quite alone."</p> + +<p>"At least," impatiently, "you will not +be involved. I did not understand before +why Bruce had deserted us lately. +I see now that he has acted very properly. +It was not his fault nor yours—this +flirtation—preference—or whatever you +may choose to call it. But Bruce knows +the world, and knows just how long-lived +such fancies are, and he intends that it +shall be no hinderance to your marriage—making +an excellent match."</p> + +<p>"I marry? Make an excellent match?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Certainly. What else should you +do? Don't look in that way, my darling. +It frightens me. I'm not strong. It is not +death that is coming to you, but a good +husband. You need not turn so white."</p> + +<p>"And Mr. Neckart planned this for +<i>me?</i>"</p> + +<p>"N-no. I can't say 'planned,' to be accurate. +But he agreed in our plan. Why, +Bruce has common sense. He knows it +is the way of the world that a woman +should marry, and he will be much happier +to know that you are the wife of a +good man—good and good-looking too. +Much more presentable than Bruce, poor +fellow!"</p> + +<p>The captain watched her closely as he +gave this home-thrust. How a woman +could turn from that magnificent, devout +reformer to any lean, irascible politician! +Her foot was on the edge of the little +skiff. She pushed it into the water. +While he sat in the boat there that night, +with the moonlight white about them, +while he told her that he loved her, he had +been planning this good match for her! +There was no such thing as love, then, +in the world? Or truth? But there was +Society and common sense and the inexorable +rules of propriety. Bruce Neckart +represented to her Strength itself, and +he submitted to these rules cheerfully. +He was happy to think of her as the +wife of a good, presentable man!</p> + +<p>When she had thought of him as going +<a name="Page_473" id="Page_473"><span class="pagenum">Page 473</span></a>alone with his terrible burden away from +her into the wilderness, true to her until +the last breath of reason was gone, there +had been a thrill of delight in the intolerable +pain. But planning, like finical +little Waring, that she should fall snugly +into a fashionable set, Parisian gowns, a +suitable marriage!</p> + +<p>Jane had not the womanish faculty of +thinning every fact or thought that came +to her into tears or talk. Neckart had +gone out of her life. She accepted the +fact at once, without argument. What +the loss imported to her would assuredly +be known only to her own narrow, +one-sided mind, and the God who had +given it to her.</p> + +<p>"Shall we go to the house, father? +Can't you laugh again, and look like yourself? +Why, I will give myself up, body +and soul, to Society or Philanthropy—anything +you choose—rather than see you +so shaken." She hung on his arm as +they went up the path, talking incessantly, +and laughing more, as even the captain +felt, than the jokes would warrant. +The moment was favorable for introducing +the subject he had at heart.</p> + +<p>"The last train brought out a dozen +men to consult Mr. Van Ness," he began—"deputations +from church and +charitable organizations. 'Pon my soul, +I don't know what Christianity in this +country would do without that man!"</p> + +<p>"It would wear a very different face," +absently.</p> + +<p>"I went with Rhodes to a great revival-meeting +in town one night lately, and +Van Ness, of course, was called up on +the platform. Rhodes thought he looked +like one of the apostles in modern +dress; and all the ladies near me said +that his face beamed with heavenly light. +It would have made anybody devout to +look at him. Are you listening?" glancing +at her abstracted face. "You certainly +think him remarkably handsome? +As to his nose, now?"</p> + +<p>"I don't suppose anybody could find +fault with his nose," smiling.</p> + +<p>"Nor with his manner?"</p> + +<p>"Nor with his manner."</p> + +<p>"And yet you are not friends, eh?" +holding his breath for her answer.</p> + +<p>"No," carelessly. "Mr. Van Ness +and I could not be friends."</p> + +<p>"Why? why?"</p> + +<p>"How could I tell?" with a shrug, +and looking at Bruno, who was fighting +a cat just then without cause.</p> + +<p>The captain looked and sighed. It +was of no use, he thought, to try to account +for the prejudices or likings of +any of the lower animals.</p> + +<p>Mr. Waring met them at the moment +in an anxious flutter: "Mrs. Wilde is +here. She is coming down the path."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wilde was a small, plump old +lady with a sober, tranquil face framed +in soft puffs of white hair; her dress +never rustled or brought itself into any +notice; her language never fell uneasily +out of its quiet gait; when she spoke to +you, you felt that something genuine and +happy dominated you for the moment.</p> + +<p>"I followed Mr. Waring here," holding +out her hand. "One makes acquaintance +so much more quickly out of doors. +I must begin ours by asking for your +arm, Miss Swendon. I am fat and scant +o' breath, and apt to forget it."</p> + +<p>Jane drew the puffy hand eagerly +through her arm. She would have liked +to say outright how welcome the motherly +presence and the honest voice were +to her just then.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wilde dismissed the captain and +Mr. Waring, and the two women sat +down in the arbor, and at once were at +ease and at home with each other. Bruno +came up, eyed and smelled the new-comer, +and snuggled down on her skirts +to go to sleep.</p> + +<p>"He vouches for me," she said nodding. +"You must take me at his valuation."</p> + +<p>"He makes no mistakes."</p> + +<p>"Nor do you, I suspect. That reminds +me, Miss Swendon. I brought a friend +with me, and now that I have seen you +I mean to bespeak your good-will for +her. She needs just such healthy influence +as yours would be."</p> + +<p>"Is she ill?"</p> + +<p>"Only in mind. One of those morbid +women who must make a drama out of +their lives, and prefer to make it a tragedy. +A Madame Trebizoff, an English-woman +<a name="Page_474" id="Page_474"><span class="pagenum">Page 474</span></a>who married a Russian prince. +She is a widow now, with large means—came +to New York a few months ago, +and has had much court paid to her. +But her nature makes her always a very +lonely woman." She spoke hastily as +the trailing of heavy skirts approached +on the grass. "Here she is, poor thing! +Be good to her," she whispered before +presenting her in form. Madame Trebizoff +was draped in black, with a good +deal of lace about her head and an artificial +yellow rose at her throat. Jane +went up to her with outstretched hand, +but when the sallow face turned full on +her she stopped short, looked at it a moment, +and then bowed without a word.</p> + +<p>"It is the materialized spirit!" But +she did not speak, for in a moment she +remembered that she had once taken the +bread from the wretched woman's mouth. +She would not do it again.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3>Chapter XIII.</h3> + + +<p>Mr. Van Ness came beaming down +through the lilacs to the arbor, and was +received with much reverence by Mrs. +Wilde. She was a devout woman, and +Pliny Van Ness's name was in all the +churches. They all sauntered back to +luncheon presently, Mrs. Wilde and Jane +going before, while Mr. Van Ness and the +Russian princess walked more slowly +through the woods, the foreigner talking +with animation and many gestures of +American trees, while the reformer listened +benignly, ineffable calm in his +smiling eyes.</p> + +<p>"You followed me here purposely, +Charlotte?" he said gently as she dilated +eloquently on our autumnal foliage.</p> + +<p>"No. I did not know that you were +in New York. But I meant to call upon +you soon. I have had no money from +you since last August."</p> + +<p>"Somebody, apparently, has filled my +place as your banker," his placid eye +sweeping over the costly dress and be-diamonded +fingers.</p> + +<p>"What is that to you?" with a sudden +shrill passion. "Once you would have +cared, Pliny. But that was years ago."</p> + +<p>"Yes. Many years ago," buttoning +his glove carefully. "A Russian princess, +eh?" after a short pause. "You are playing +higher than ordinary, Charlotte. You'll +find it dangerous. I should advise you to +keep to begging letters or the rôle of medium +or literary tramp."</p> + +<p>"One class is as ready to be humbugged +as the other. Who knows that better +than you?"</p> + +<p>"In the religious and charitable work +to which I have given up my life," deliberately +measuring his words, "there +are few impostors to be met. We usually +detect fraud, with God's help, and do +not suffer from it, therefore."</p> + +<p>She stopped short, looking at him with +blank amazement. Then walked on with +a shrug: "Absolutely! He expects me to +believe in him! He believes in himself! +Can imposture go further than that?"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wilde, in the distance, caught +sight of the two figures as they passed +through a belt of sunlight, and smiled +contentedly.</p> + +<p>"I am so glad to bring poor madame +under direct religious influence! Mr. +Van Ness is speaking to her with great +earnestness, I perceive."</p> + +<p>The Princess Trebizoff scanned the +great reformer as they walked, appraising +him, from the measured solemn step +to his calm humility of eye. She would +have relished a passionate scene with +him. After terrapin and champagne, +there was nothing she relished so much +as emotion and tears. But they had played +up to each other so often! The tragedy +in their relation had grown terribly +stale! You could not, she felt, make +Hamlet's inky cloak out of dyed cotton. +But he would serve as audience.</p> + +<p>"I'm growing very tired of good society," +talking rapidly as usual. "Now, +you always enjoyed a dead level, Pliny."</p> + +<p>"Yes. There's no Bohemian blood in +my veins. I was designed for respectability."</p> + +<p>"So? I mean Ted shall be respectable," +with sudden earnestness. "He is +in a Presbyterian college. I should be +glad if he'd go into the ministry. Yes, +I should. Provided he had a call from +God. I'll have no sham professions +<a name="Page_475" id="Page_475"><span class="pagenum">Page 475</span></a>from Ted," her black eyes sparkling. +"You did not ask for the boy. In your +weighty affairs doubtless you forgot there +was such a human being."</p> + +<p>"No, indeed. In what institution have +you placed Thaddeus?"</p> + +<p>"No matter. He's out of your influence, +thank God! He never heard your +name. But as for me, I think I'll drop +this princess business soon," meditatively. +"I began down town," with a fresh +burst of vivacity. "On the boarding-house +keepers. Last December."</p> + +<p>"You are Madame Varens! Is it possible?" +turning to look at her. "The +papers were filled with your exploits last +winter."</p> + +<p>"Precisely!" She had a joyous girlish +laugh, infectious enough to draw a smile +from Van Ness.</p> + +<p>"You are really very clever, Charlotte," +admiringly.</p> + +<p>"I made a tour in the West just before +that," excitedly, patting her hands together. +"Agent for Orphans' Homes in the +Gulf States. I wrote a letter of introduction +from one or two bishops to the +clergymen in their dioceses: that started +me, and the clergy and press passed me +through. What a mill of tea-drinkings +and church-gossip I went through! But +it was better fun than this."</p> + +<p>Looking up, she happened to catch the +cold, furtive glance with which he had +listened, and kept her eye fixed on him +curiously.</p> + +<p>"Do you hate me so much as <i>that?</i>" +she said with a long breath. "Well," +frankly, "it must be intolerable to carry +such a millstone about your neck as I +am to you. You know I could pull you +down any minute I chose," tossing her +head and laughing maliciously. "No +matter how high you had climbed. I +often wonder, Pliny, why you do not rid +yourself of me. It could be easily done."</p> + +<p>The usually suave tone was harsh and +hoarse as he began to speak. He coughed, +and carefully modulated his voice before +he said politely, "Yes. But it would +involve exposure unless carefully managed. +That is certain damnation. There +is a chance of safety for the present in +trusting to you. You were always good-natured, +Charlotte. And," turning his +watery eye full on her, "you loved me +once."</p> + +<p>"Possibly," coolly. "But last year's +loves are as tedious reading as last year's +newspapers. Better trust my good-nature. +You show your shrewdness in that. I +don't interfere with people. The world +uses me very well. It's a hogshead that +gives the best of wine—if you know how +to tap it."</p> + +<p>"You've tapped it with a will. You +go through life perpetually drunk," he +thought as she ran lightly before him up +the steps. He habitually made such +complacent moral reflections upon his +companions to himself, and took spiritual +comfort in them.</p> + +<p>The hall was wide and sunny, made +homelike by low seats and growing +plants: it was occupied by half a dozen +committee-men, who were waiting impatiently +to see Mr. Van Ness. The +princess seated herself, attentive, her +head on one side like some bright-eyed +tropical bird.</p> + +<p>Van Ness, without even a glance toward +her, took up his business of Christian +financier. "Do not go, I beg," as +the captain opened the inner door for +Rhodes and the ladies to retire. "Our +affairs are conducted in the eyes of the +public. Sound integrity has no secrets +to keep. That is our pride.—Ah, gentlemen?"</p> + +<p>The captain was glad to stay. Surely, +Jane would be impressed with the vast +influence of this good man. Van Ness did +not look at her once. But he saw nobody +but her, and spoke directly to her ear.</p> + +<p>Asylums, workingmen's homes, hospitals, +in all of which he was a director, +were brought up and dismissed with a +few hopeful, earnest words. The vast +system of organized charities through +which the kindly wealthy class touch the +poor beneath them was opened. Mrs. +Wilde, a manager in many of them, joined +in the discussion.</p> + +<p>"What a useless creature I am!" +thought Jane. "But the money," doggedly, +"is mine, and I choose to give it +to father if the whole world go hungry." +She turned, however, from one representative +<a name="Page_476" id="Page_476"><span class="pagenum">Page 476</span></a>of these asylums to the other +with a baited look. Was it this one or +that whom she had robbed?</p> + +<p>"Now, as to Temperance City—<i>our</i> +city?" demanded a puffy little man importantly. +"You are the fountain-head +of information there. We look to you, +Mr. Van Ness."</p> + +<p>"You shall have the annual report +next week.—Temperance City," turning +to Rhodes, his balmy gaze aimed straight +over her head, "is a scheme to protect +people of small means in the churches, +especially women, from wrecking their +little all in unwise investments. It is a +town on the line of the Pacific Railroad. +Lots are only sold to colonists who are tee-totallers +and members of some church. +The stock is owned largely by the same +class."</p> + +<p>"Oh, almost altogether!" cried the +little man enthusiastically. "Mr. Van +Ness's name, as you will understand, +gives it authority among all religious +people. We distribute prospectuses at +camp-meetings and at all sectarian seaside +resorts. Shares go off this summer +like hot cakes. There's nothing like religion, +sir, to back up business enterprise. +There's Stokes, for instance. His +shoes are sold from New Jersey to Oregon +on the strength of the hymns he has +written."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the judge solemnly. "We +used to keep religion too much in the +chimney-corner—spoke of it with bated +breath. But it's in trade now, sir. We +hear every day of our Christian shoe-makers +and railway kings and statesmen. +The world moves!"</p> + +<p>"Moves? Oh there's no lever like +religion!" gasped the little man. "No +advertisement to equal it. And a good +man ought to succeed! Are the swindlers +to take all the fat of the land? +Does not the good Book say, 'To the laborers +belong the spoils'?"</p> + +<p>"But this is so charming to me!" cried +the princess. "We foreigners have so +few opportunities of looking into the +workings of your politics and trade!"</p> + +<p>Van Ness bowed respectfully.</p> + +<p>"And the State Home for destitute children?" +asked a raw-boned Scotch-Irishman. +"We're interested in that here in +New York. We've subscribed largely, +as you're aware, Mr. Van Ness. May I +ask when you wull begin the buildin'?"</p> + +<p>"In the spring, I trust. If enough +funds are collected."</p> + +<p>"And hoo air the funds invested in the +mean while?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, in corner-lots in Temperance +City."</p> + +<p>The committee-men had hurried away +to catch the next train: lunch was over, +and Mr. Van Ness stood apart on the +lawn under the drooping branches of a +willow, when the princess tripped lightly +out to him.</p> + +<p>"You have an object in coming here? +You had an object in bringing those +men to-day and opening out your affairs. +What is it?"</p> + +<p>He regarded her composedly for a moment +without answering: "You always +erred, Charlotte, in ascribing your own +skill in intrigue to me. It was a flattering +mistake. What I am to others I am to +myself."</p> + +<p>She laughed, a merry, hearty laugh: +"Yes, Pliny, because you are not satisfied +with cheating the world and the God that +made you into the belief that you are a +Christian, but you parade in your godliness +before yourself. There is not a spot +within you sound enough for your real +soul to lodge in. It is all like that," setting +her foot viciously on a fallen apple. +"Rotten to the core!"</p> + +<p>A shadow of disgust passed over his +handsome face. Van Ness had a fastidious +taste. Her melodramatic poses +had been familiar to him for years: they +always had annoyed and bored him.</p> + +<p>"What is it that brings you here? A +woman?"</p> + +<p>He hesitated a moment: "Yes."</p> + +<p>"This yellow-haired girl? You mean +to marry her?"</p> + +<p>"I may marry her," cautiously.</p> + +<p>Their eyes met. "I did not think you +would push me so far," she said thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"It is to your interest not to interfere. +You are mad, Charlotte. But you never +lose sight of the dirty dollar in your madness."</p> +<p><a name="Page_477" id="Page_477"><span class="pagenum">Page 477</span></a></p> +<p>"That is for Ted's sake," quietly. "I +dislike that girl. She's so damnably +clean! She's of the sort that would +walk straight on and trample me under +foot like a slug if she knew what I was. +I owe her an old grudge, too. But that's +nothing," laughing good-humoredly. +"It was the most ridiculous scene! But +it lost me a year's income. She nearly +recognized me to-day. On the whole, I'll +not interfere. Marry her. She deserves +just such a punishment. By the way, +there is my card. You can send the back +payments that are due, to-morrow."</p> + +<p>Van Ness received the card and command +with a smile and bow, meant for +the bystanders: "Of course, Charlotte, +you understand that these payments +must soon stop. I shall rid myself of +any legal claims you have upon me +before marrying another woman."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I've no doubt you'll walk strictly +according to law! You will not run +the risk of a lawsuit, much less prosecution, +even for Miss Swendon. You will +have no trouble in gaining your freedom +from me," shrilly.</p> + +<p>"None whatever," stripping the leaves +from a willow wand. She left him without +a word, going to the house.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Wilde had just summoned her +carriage. "Where is the princess?" +looking lazily around.</p> + +<p>"Is Madame Trebizoff a guest in your +house?" asked Jane suddenly.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"I will call her. I have something to +say to her."</p> + +<p>She went to meet her with the grave +motherly firmness with which she would +have gone to give a scolding to black +Buff or a lazy chambermaid. The princess, +crossing the grass, slender, dark, +sparkling, had no doubt of her own +smouldering passionate hate against her. +It was the proper thing for Hagar to hate +Sarah. Life was thin and insipid without +great remorses, revenges, loves. The +poor little creature was always aiming at +them, and falling short. She was wondering +now why Jane wore no jewelry. +"Not an earring! Not a hoop on her +finger! If I had her money!" glancing +down at the blaze of rubies on her breast.</p> + +<p>They met under a clump of lilacs.</p> + +<p>"Stop one moment," said Jane, looking +down at her not unkindly. "You +must not let this go too far, you know."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" The princess +fixed her eye upon her, with a somewhat +snaky light in it. Indeed, when she assumed +that attitude toward Van Ness or +any other man she could frighten and +hold him at bay as if she had been a +cobra about to strike. But the lithe dark +body, the vivid color, the beady eye only +reminded Jane oddly of a darting little +lizard, and tempted her to laugh.</p> + +<p>"No. You really must keep within +bounds. Because I have my eye upon +you. I can't let you cheat that good +soul, who brought you here, to her damage."</p> + +<p>The princess gasped and whitened as +though a cold calm hand was laid on her +miserable sham of a body.</p> + +<p>"Do you know who I am?" stiffening +herself into her idea of regal bearing.</p> + +<p>"Not exactly. It does not matter in +the least, either. I took your means of +earning a living from you once, you told +me, and I don't wish to do it again. I +will not interfere as long as you hurt +nobody."</p> + +<p>The princess stared at her and burst +into an hysteric laugh: "I believe, in my +soul, you mean just what you say! You +are the shrewdest or stupidest woman I +ever saw! Do you sympathize with me? +Do you feel for me?" tragically, "or +are you trying to worm my secret from +me?"</p> + +<p>"Neither one nor the other," coolly. +"I know your secret. You are no spirit +and no princess. I shall pity you perhaps +when you go to some honest work. +Why," with sudden interest, "I can find +steady work for you at once. A staymaker +in the village told me the other +day—"</p> + +<p>"<i>I</i> make stays!"</p> + +<p>They both laughed. Jane's chief +thought probably was how bony and +sickly this poor woman was: her own +solid white limbs seemed selfish to her +for the instant. She took the twitching, +ringed fingers in her hand.</p> + +<p>"Play out your own play," she said +<a name="Page_478" id="Page_478"><span class="pagenum">Page 478</span></a>good-humoredly. "You will not hurt +anybody very seriously, I fancy."</p> + +<p>They walked in silence to the house.</p> + +<p>The princess bent forward in the carriage-window +as they drove away to look +back at her. "I wish my son knew such +women as that!" she cried.</p> + +<p>"Son?" said the startled Mrs. Wilde. +"You have not spoken before to me of +your son, madame."</p> + +<p>"I have always kept him under tutors—at +Leipsic."</p> + +<p>She leaned back as they drove through +the sunshine, her filmy handkerchief to +her painted eyes, seeing nothing but an +ugly, honest-faced boy hard at work in +a bare Presbyterian chapel. He would +never know nor guess the life of shame +which his mother led! Her tears were +real now.</p> + +<p>She even had wild, visionary thoughts +of a confession, of staymaking, of so +many dollars a week regularly. But +she remembered the time when some +fussy, good women had put her in +charge of a fashionable Kindergarten. +There was a fat salary! The house was +luxurious: the teachers did the work. +But one night she had broken the finical +apparatus to pieces, left a heap of +bonbons for the children, scrawled a +verse of good-bye with chalk on the +blackboard, and taken to the road again +without a penny.</p> + +<p class="author">Rebecca Harding Davis.</p> + +<p class="center">[TO BE CONTINUED.]</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Alfred_De_Musset" id="Alfred_De_Musset"></a>Alfred De Musset.</h2> + +<p>It is twenty years since the death of +Alfred de Musset, a poet whose popularity +and influence, both in his own country +and out of it, can be compared only +to Byron's. Not that the Frenchman is +known in England as the Englishman is +known in France, but the latter country +may be called the open side of the Channel, +and in establishing a comparison between +the relative fame and familiarity +of foreign names and ideas there and on +the isolated side, it is proportion rather +than quantity which must be kept in view. +While Byron is out of fashion in his own +country, the rage for Musset, which for a +long time made him appear not so much +the favorite modern poet of France as the +only one, has subsided into a steady admiration +and affection, a permanent preference. +New editions of his works, both +cheaper and more costly, are being constantly +issued, portraits of him are multiplied, +his pieces are regularly performed +at the Théâtre Français, his verses are +on every one's lips, his tomb is heaped +with flowers on All Souls' Day. Until +after his death it would have been easy +to count those who knew even his name +in this country and England: as usual +in such matters, we preceded the English +in our acquaintance with him. The freedom +with which Owen Meredith and Mr. +Swinburne helped themselves from his +poems proves how unfamiliar the general +public was with him ten years ago, but +his distinction is now so well recognized +in that island, so remote from external impressions, +that some knowledge of his life +and writings formed part of the French +course last year in the higher local examinations +of Cambridge University.</p> + +<p>Alfred de Musset belongs to the class +of poets whose inner history excites most +curiosity, because his readers feel that +there lies the spring of his power, the secret +of his charm, as well as the key to +the riddles and inconsistencies which his +writings present: they are so imbued with +the essence of a common humanity that +the heart that beats, the tears which start, +the blood which courses through them, +keep time with our own. The desire to +penetrate still further into the intimacy +to which they admit us is quite distinct +<a name="Page_479" id="Page_479"><span class="pagenum">Page 479</span></a>from the vulgar inquisitiveness which +pursues celebrity, or merely notoriety, +into privacy. His biography has lately +been published by one who recognizes +the true nature of this curiosity: Paul de +Musset has reserved the right of telling his +brother's story, regarding it, he says, "not +only as a duty I owe to the man I loved +best, and whose most intimate and confidential +friend I was, but as a necessary +complement to the perfect understanding +of his works, for his work was himself."</p> + +<p>The way in which this task has been +performed is not entirely satisfactory, and +many passionate admirers of the poet, +the order of readers to whom it is dedicated, +will feel disappointment and a regretful +sense of its failing to fulfil what it +undertook, increased by the conviction +that, having been undertaken by the +hand best fitted for it by natural propriety, +it cannot be done again. The book +bears the relation to what one desired +and expected that a bare diary does to +the journal, or memoranda to the lecture. +It is a collection of notes on the life of +Alfred de Musset, rather than a full memoir. +This inadequacy arises principally +from the biographer himself. Paul de +Musset, the poet's elder and only brother, +is a man of taste and cultivation, a +judge of art, literature, music and the +drama, a person of charming manners +and conversation, dignified, kindly, courteous, +easy: he was until middle age a +busy, working man, whose leisure moments +were occupied with writings that +have found little favor, except the <i>Femmes +de la Règence</i> and the pretty child's story +of <i>M. le Vent et Mme. la Pluie</i>, which latter +has been translated. He was the devoted, +unselfish friend and mentor of Alfred, +to whose juniority and genius he extended +an indulgence of which he needed +no share for himself: in fact, he was +the elder brother of the Prodigal in everything +but want of generosity. A more +amiable portrait cannot be imagined than +the one to be drawn of him from the history +of his intercourse with his brother +and from Alfred's own letters and verses +to him. This, however, was not the person +to give us such an account and analysis +of the life and character of Alfred +de Musset as the subject called for: he +has neither the necessary impartiality +nor ability. He is now seventy years +old, and although, like his brother, he +has the gift of appearing a decade less +than his age, he is forced to remember +that the time must come when he will +no longer be here to defend his brother's +memory, which has suffered more than +one cruel attack. Having once had to +silence calumny under cover of fiction, +he naturally wished to put his name beyond +the reach of being further traduced. +Whatever the shortcomings of the performance, +it could not fail to be interesting. +It is written in an easy, well-bred +style, like the author's way of talking—not +without a sense of humor, with touching +pride in his brother's endowments, +and tenderness toward faults which he +does not deny. In place of comprehensive +views and sound judgment of Alfred +de Musset's genius and career, we have +the knowledge of absolute intimacy and +sympathy, candor, a hoard of reminiscences +and details which could be gained +from no other source, and, more than +all, that certainty as to events and motives +which can exist only where there +has been a lifelong daily association without +disguise or distrust.</p> + +<p>The family of Musset is old and gentle, +and was adorned in early centuries by +soldiers of mark and statesmen of good +counsel—the sort of lineage which should +bequeath high and honorable ideas, an +inheritance of which neither Paul nor Alfred +de Musset nor their immediate forbears +were unworthy. A disposition to +letters and poetry appears among their +ancestry on both sides, beginning in the +twelfth century with Colin de Musset, a +sort of troubadour, a friend of Thibaut, +count of Champagne, while the poet's +paternal grandmother bore the name of +Du Bellay, so illustrious in the annals of +French literature. Alfred de Musset's +parents were remarkable for goodness of +heart and high principle: both possessed +an ideality which showed itself with them +in elevation of moral sentiments, and +which passed into the imaginative qualities +of their sons. From remoter relatives +on both sides came a legacy of wit, +<a name="Page_480" id="Page_480"><span class="pagenum">Page 480</span></a>promptness and point in retort, gayety +and good spirits. Alfred de Musset was +born on the 11th of December, 1810, in +the old quarter of Paris, on the left bank +of the Seine. The stories of his childhood—which +are pretty, like all true +stories about children—show a sensitive, +affectionate, vivacious, impetuous, perverse +nature, precocious observation and +intelligence. He was one of those beautiful, +captivating children whom nobody +can forbear to spoil, and who, with the +innocent cunning of their age, reckon on +the effect of their own charms. He was +not four years old when he first fell in +love, as such mere babies, both girls and +boys, occasionally do: these infantine +passions exhibit most of the phenomena +of maturer ones, and show how intense +and absorbing a passion may be which +belongs exclusively to the region of sentiment +and imagination. Alfred de Musset's +first love was his cousin, a young +girl nearly grown up when he first saw +her: he left his playthings to listen to +her account of a journey she had made +from Belgium, then the seat of war, and +from that day, whenever she came to the +house, insisted on her telling him stories, +which she did with the patience and invention +of Scheherazade. At last he asked +her to marry him, and, as she did not +refuse, considered her his betrothed wife. +After some time she returned to her home +in Liége: there were tears on both sides—on +his genuine and excessive grief. +"Do not forget me," said Clélia.—"Forget +you! Don't you know that your +name is cut upon my heart with a pen-knife?" +He set himself to learn to read +and write with incredible application, that +he might be able to correspond with his +beloved. His attachment did not abate +with absence, so that when Clélia really +married, the whole family thought it necessary +to keep it a secret from her little +lover, and he remained in ignorance of +it for years, although he betrayed extraordinary +suspicion and misgiving on the +subject. He was a schoolboy of eight +or nine before he learned the truth, and +was at first extremely agitated: he asked +tremblingly if Clélia had been making +fun of him, and being assured that +she had not, but that they had not allowed +her to wait for him, and that she loved +him like an elder sister, he grew calm +and said, "I will be satisfied with that." +The cousins seldom met in after-life, but +preserved a tender affection for each +other, which served to avert a lawsuit +and rupture that threatened to grow out +of a business disagreement between the +two branches of the family. In 1852, +Clélia came to Paris to be present at Alfred's +reception by the French Academy. +He had great confidence in her taste and +judgment, and the last time they met he +said to her, "If there should ever be a +handsome edition of my works, I will +have a copy bound for you in white vellum +with a gold band, as an emblem of +our friendship."</p> + +<p>His first literary passion was the <i>Arabian +Nights</i>, which filled the imagination +of both brothers with magical lamps, +wishing-carpets and secret caverns for +nearly a twelvemonth, during which they +were incessantly trying to carry out their +fancies by constructing enchanted towers +and palaces with the furniture of their +apartment. The Eastern stories were +superseded by tales of chivalry: Paul lit +upon the <i>Four Sons of Aymon</i> in his +grandfather's library, and a new world +opened before him in which he hastened +to lose himself, taking his younger brother +by the hand. The children devoured +<i>Jerusalem Delivered</i>, <i>Orlando Furioso</i>, +<i>Amadis de Gaule</i>, and all the poems, +tales and traditions of knighthood on +which they could lay hands. Their +games now were of nothing but tilts and +jousts, single combats, adventures and +deeds of arms: the paladins were their +imaginary playfellows. A little comrade, +who charged with an extraordinary rush +in the excitement of the tournament, +generally represented Roland: Alfred, +being the youngest and smallest of the +three, was allowed to bear the enchanted +lance, the first touch of which unseated +the boldest rider and bravest +champion—a pretty device of the elder +brother's, in which one hardly knows +whether to be most charmed with the +poetic fancy or the protecting affection +which it displayed. The delightful infatuation +<a name="Page_481" id="Page_481"><span class="pagenum">Page 481</span></a>lasted for several years, undergoing +some gradual modifications. Until +he was nine, Alfred had been chiefly +taught at home by a tutor, but at that +age he was sent to school, where the first +term dispelled his belief in the marvellous. +His brother was by this time at +boarding-school, and they met only on +Sunday, when they renewed their knightly +sports, but with diminished ardor. One +day Alfred asked Paul seriously what he +thought of magic, and Paul confessed +his scepticism. The loss of this dear +delusion was a painful shock to Alfred, +as it is to many children. Who cannot +remember the change which came over +the world when he first learned that +Krisskinkle <i>alias</i> Santa Claus did not +fill the Christmas stocking—that the +fairies had not made the greener ring +in the grass, where he had firmly believed +he might have seen them dancing +in the moonlight if he could only have +sat up late enough? The Musset children +fell back upon the mysterious machinery +of old romance—trap-doors, +secret staircases, etc.—and began tapping +and sounding the walls for private +passages and hidden doorways; but in +vain. It was at this stage of the fever that +<i>Don Quixote</i> was given to them; and it +is a singular illustration both of the genius +of the book and the intelligence of the +little readers that it put their giants, +dwarfs and knights to flight. During +the following summer they passed a few +weeks at the manor-house of Cogners +with an uncle, the marquis de Musset, +the head of the family: to their great +joy, the room assigned them had underneath +the great canopied bedstead a trap +leading into a small chamber built in the +thickness of the floor between the two +stories of the old feudal building. Alfred +could not sleep for excitement, and wakened +his brother at daybreak to help him +explore: they found the secret chamber +full of dust and cobwebs, and returned to +their own room with the sense that their +dreams had been realized a little too late. +On looking about them they saw that the +tapestry on their walls represented scenes +from <i>Don Quixote:</i> they burst out laughing, +and the days of chivalry were over.</p> + +<p>Alfred de Musset was nine years old, +as we have said, when he began to attend +the Collége Henri IV. (now Corneille), +on entering which he took his +place in the sixth form, among boys for +the most part of twelve or upward. He +was sent to school on the first day with +a deep scalloped collar and his long +light curls falling upon his shoulders, +and being greeted with jeers and yells +by his schoolmates, went home in tears, +and the curls were cut off forthwith. +He was an ambitious rather than an +assiduous scholar, and kept his place +on the bench of honor by his facility in +learning more than by his industry; but +it was a source of keen mortification to +him if he fell behindhand. His talents +soon attracted the attention of the masters +and the envy of the pupils, the latter +of whom were irritated and humiliated +by seeing the little curly-pate, the +youngest of them all, always at the head +of the class. The laziest and dullest +formed a league against him: every day, +when school broke up, he was assaulted +with a brutality equal to that of an English +public school, but which certainly +would not have been roused against him +there by the same cause. He had to +run amuck through the courtyard to the +gate, where a servant was waiting for +him, often reaching it with torn clothes +and a bloody face. This persecution was +stopped by his old playfellow, Orlando +Furioso, who was two years his senior: +he threw himself into the crowd one day +and dealt his redoubtable blows with so +much energy that he scattered the bullies +once for all. Among their schoolmates +was the promising duke of Orleans, who +was then duc de Chartres, his father, +afterward King Louis Philippe, bearing +at that time the former title. He took a +strong fancy to Alfred de Musset, which +he showed by writing him a profusion of +notes during recitation, most of them +invitations to dinner at Neuilly, where +he occasionally went with other school-fellows +of the young prince. For a time +after leaving school De Chartres—as he +was called by his young friends—kept up +a lively correspondence with Alfred, and +when their boyish intimacy naturally expired +<a name="Page_482" id="Page_482"><span class="pagenum">Page 482</span></a>the recollection of it remained fresh +and lively in the prince's mind, as was +afterward proved.</p> + +<p>De Musset left college at the age of sixteen, +having taken a prize in philosophy +for a Latin metaphysical essay. His +disposition to inquire and speculate had +already manifested itself by uneasy questions +in the classes of logic and moral +philosophy; and although few will agree +with his brother that his writings show +unusual aptitude and profound knowledge +in these sciences, or that, as he +says, "the thinker was always on a level +with the poet," nobody can deny the +constant questioning of the Sphinx, the +eager, restless pursuit of truth, which pervades +his pages. He pushed his search +through a long course of reading,—Descartes, +Spinoza, Cabanis, Maine de Biran—only +to fall back upon an innate +faith in God which never forsook him, +although it was strangely disconnected +with his mode of life.</p> + +<p>I have lingered over the early years of +Alfred de Musset because the childhood +of a poet is the mirror wherein the image +of his future is seen, and because there +is something peculiarly touching in this +season of innocence and unconsciousness +of self in the history of men whose after +lives have been torn to pieces by the +storms of vicissitude and passion. So +far, he had not begun to rhyme—an unusual +case, as boys who can make two +lines jingle, whether they be poets or +not, generally scribble plentifully before +leaving school. At the age of fourteen +he wrote some verses to his mother on +her birthday, but it is fair to suppose that +they gave no hint of talent, as they have +not been preserved: it was only from his +temperament that his destiny might be +guessed. The impressions of his infancy +were singularly vivid and deep, +and acted directly upon his imagination: +they are reflected in his works in +pictures and descriptions full of grace or +power. The ardent Bonapartism of his +family, particularly of his mother, whom +he loved and revered, took form from +his recollections in the magnificent opening +of the <i>Confession d'un Enfant du +Siècle,</i> which has the double character +of a prose poem and a kindling oration, +while by the volume and sonorous beauty +of the phrase it reminds one of a grand +musical composition. When he was between +seven and eight years old his family +passed the summer at an old country-place +to which belonged a farm, and +he and his brother found inexhaustible +amusement among the tenants and their +occupations. He never saw it again, but +it is reproduced with perfect fidelity in +the tale of <i>Margot</i>. The chivalric mania +left, as Paul de Musset observes, +a love of the romantic and fantastic, a +tendency to look upon life as a novel, an +enjoyment of what was unexpected and +unlikely, a disposition to trust to chance +and the course of events. The motto of +the Mussets was a condensed expression +of the gallant love-making, Launcelot +side of knightly existence—<i>Courtoisie, +Bonne Aventure aux Preux</i> ("Courtesy, +Good Luck to the Paladin;" or, to +translate the latter clause more freely, +yet more faithfully to the spirit of the +original, "None but the Brave Deserve +the Fair"). It came from two estates—<i>Courtoisie</i>, +which passed out of the family +in the last century, and <i>Bonne Aventure</i>, +a property on the Loire, which was +not part of Alfred's patrimony. The fairies +who endowed him at his christening +with so many gifts and graces must +have meant to complete his outfit when +they presented him with such a device, +which might have been invented for him +at nineteen. On leaving college he continued +his education by studying languages, +drawing, and music to please +himself, and attempting several professions +to satisfy the reasonable expectations +of his father. He found law dry, +medicine disgusting, and, discouraged by +these failures, he fell into low spirits, +to which he was always prone even at +the height of his youthful joyousness—declared +to his brother that he was and +ever should be good for nothing, that he +never should be able to practise a profession, +and never could resign himself +to being <i>any particular kind of man.</i> +His talent for drawing led him to work +in a painter's studio and in the galleries +of the Louvre with some success, and for +<a name="Page_483" id="Page_483"><span class="pagenum">Page 483</span></a>a time he was in high spirits at the idea +of having found his calling, and pursued +it while attending lectures and classes on +other subjects. This uncertainty lasted +a couple of years, during which he began +to venture a little into society, of +which, like most lively, versatile young +people, he was extravagantly fond. His +Muse was still dormant, but his love for +poetry was strongly developed; a volume +of André Chenier was always in his +pocket, and he delighted to read it under +the trees in the avenues of the Bois +on his daily walk out of Paris to the suburb +of Auteuil, where his family lived at +that time. Under this influence he wrote +a poem, which he afterward destroyed, +excepting a few good descriptive lines +which he introduced into one of later +date. Meanwhile, he had been presented +to the once famous Cénacle, the +nucleus of the romantic school, then in +the pride and flush of youth and rapidly +increasing popularity; its head-quarters +were at the house of Victor Hugo <i>facile +princeps ordinis</i> even among its chiefs. +There he met Alfred de Vigny, Mérimée, +Sainte-Beuve and others, whose talents +differed essentially in kind and degree, +but who were temporarily drawn together +by similarity of literary principles and +tastes. Their meetings were entirely taken +up with intellectual discussions, or the +reading of a new production, or in walks +which have been commemorated by Mérimée +and Sainte-Beuve, when they carried +their romanticism to the towers of +Notre Dame to see the sun set or the +moon rise over Paris.</p> + +<p>Stimulated by this companionship, Alfred +de Musset began to compose. His +first attempt at publication was anonymous, +a ballad called "A Dream," +which, through the good offices of a +friend, was accepted by <i>Le Provincial,</i> +a tri-weekly newspaper of Dijon: it did +not pass unnoticed, but excited a controversy +in print between the two editors, +to the extreme delight of the young +poet, who always fondly cherished the +number of the paper in which it appeared. +At length, one morning he +woke up Sainte-Beuve with the laughing +declaration that he too was a poet, and +in support of his assertion recited some +of his verses to that keenly attentive and +appreciative ear. Sainte-Beuve at once +announced that there was "a boy full +of genius among them," and as long +as he lived, whatever Paul de Musset's +fraternal sensitiveness may find to complain +of, he never retracted or qualified +that first judgment. The <i>Contes d'Italie +et d'Espagne</i> followed fast, and were +recited to an enthusiastic audience, who +were the more lenient to the exaggerations +and affectations of which, as in +most youthful poetry, there were plenty, +since these bore the stamp of their own +mint.</p> + +<p>Alfred de Musset's first steps in life +were made at the same time with his first +essays in poetry. He was so handsome, +high-spirited and gay that women did not +wait to hear that he was a genius to smile +upon him. His brother, who is tall, calls +him of medium height, five feet four +inches (about five feet nine, English +measure), slender, well-made and of +good carriage: his eyes were blue and +full of fire; his nose was aquiline, like +the portraits of Vandyke; his profile was +slightly equine in type: the chief beauty +of his face was his forehead, round which +clustered the many-shaded masses of his +fair hair, which never turned gray: the +countenance was mobile, animated and +sensitive; the predominating expression +was pride. Paul relates without reserve +how one married woman encouraged his +brother and trifled with him, using his +devotion to screen a real intrigue which +she was carrying on, and that another, +who was lying in wait for him, undertook +his consolation. One morning Alfred +made his appearance in spurs, with his +hat very much on one side and a huge +bunch of hair on the other, by which signs +his brother understood that his vanity was +satisfied. He was just eighteen. That +a man of respectable life and notions +like Paul de Musset should take these +adventures as a matter of course makes +it difficult for an American to find the +point of view whence to judge a society +so abominably corrupt. Thus at the age +of a college-boy in this country he was +started on the career which was destined +<a name="Page_484" id="Page_484"><span class="pagenum">Page 484</span></a>to lead to so much unhappiness, and +in the end to his destruction. Dissipation +of every sort followed, debts, from +which he was never free, and the habit +of drinking, which proved fatal at last. +To the advice and warnings of his brother +he only replied that he wished to know +everything by experience, not by hearsay—that +he felt within him two men, one +an actor, the other a spectator, and if +the former did a foolish thing the latter +profited by it. On this pernicious reasoning +he pursued for three years a dissolute +mode of life, which, thanks to the +remarkable strength and elasticity of his +constitution, did not prevent his carrying +on his studies and going with great zest +into society, where he became more and +more welcome, besides writing occasionally. +He translated De Quincey's <i>Confessions +of an English Opium-Eater</i>, introducing +some reveries of his own, but +the work attracted no attention. During +this period his father, naturally anxious +about his son's unprofitable courses, one +morning informed him that he had obtained +a clerkship for him in an office +connected with the military commissariat. +Alfred did not venture to demur, but the +confinement and routine of an office were +intolerable, and he resolved to conquer +his liberty by every effort of which he +was capable. He offered his manuscripts +for publication to M. Canel, the devoted +editor of the romantic party: they fell +short by five hundred lines of the number +of pages requisite for a volume of +the usual octavo bulk. He obtained a +holiday, which he spent with a favorite +uncle who lived in the provinces, and +came back in three weeks with the poem +of "Mardoche." He persuaded his father +to give a literary party, to which his +friends of the Cénacle were invited, and +repeated his latest compositions to them, +including "Mardoche." Here we have +another example of manners startling to +our notions: the keynote of these verses +was rank libertinism, yet in his mother's +drawing-room and apparently in the +presence of his father, a dignified, reputable +man, venerated by his children, +this young rake declaimed stanzas more +licentious than any in Byron's <i>Don Juan</i>. +But it caused no scandal: the friends +were rapturous, and predicted the infallible +success of the poems, in which they +were justified by the event. "Rarely," +says Paul de Musset, "has so small a +quantity of paper made so much noise." +There was an uproar among the newspapers, +some applauding with all their +might, others denouncing the exaggeration +of the romantic tendency: the romanticists +themselves were disconcerted +to find the "Ballade à la Lune," which +they had taken as a good joke, turned +into a joke against themselves. At all +events, the young man was launched, +and his vocation was thenceforth decided. +In reading these first productions of Alfred +de Musset's without the prejudice or +partiality of faction, it cannot be denied +that if not sufficient in themselves to ensure +his immortality, they contain lines +of finished beauty as perfect as the author +ever produced—ample guarantee of +what might be expected from the development +of his genius.</p> + +<p>He now began to be tired of sowing +wild oats, and became less irregular in his +mode of life. A lively, pretty little comedy +called <i>Une Nuit Vénitienne</i>, which +he wrote at the request of the director of +the Odéon, for some inexplicable cause +fell flat, which, besides turning him aside +from writing for the stage during a number +of years, discouraged him altogether +for some time. Before he entirely recovered +from the check he lost his father, +who died suddenly of cholera in 1832. +The shock left him sobered and calm, +anxious to fulfil his duties toward his +mother and young sister, whose means, +it was feared, would be greatly diminished +by the loss of M. de Musset's salary. +Alfred resolved to publish another volume +of poetry, and, if this did not succeed +to a degree to warrant his considering +literature a means of support, to get +a commission in the army. He set himself +industriously to work, and inspiration +soon rewarded the effort: in six months +his second volume appeared, comprising +"Le Saule," "Vœux Stériles," "La Coupe +et les Lèvres," "A quoi rèvent les jeunes +filles," "Namouna," and several shorter +pieces. Among those enumerated there +<a name="Page_485" id="Page_485"><span class="pagenum">Page 485</span></a>are splendid passages, second in beauty +and force to but a few of his later poems, +the sublime "Nuits," "Souvenir," and +the incomparable opening of "Rolla." +Again he convoked the friends who three +years before had greeted the <i>Contes d'Espagne</i> +with acclamation, but, to the unutterable +surprise and disappointment of +both brothers, there was not a word of +sympathy or applause: Mérimée alone +expressed his approbation, and assured +the young poet that he had made immense +progress. Perhaps the others took +in bad part their former disciple's recantation +of romanticism, which he makes +in the dedication of "La Coupe et les +Lèvres" after the following formula:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For my part, I hate those snivellers in boats,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Those lovers of waterfalls, moonshine and lakes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That breed without name, which with journals and notes,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tears and verses, floods every step that it takes:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nature no doubt but gives back what you lend her;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">After all, it may be that they do comprehend her,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But them I do certainly not comprehend.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The chill of this introduction was not +carried off by the public reception of the +<i>Spectacle dans un Fauteuil</i> (as the new +collection was entitled), which remained +almost unnoticed for some weeks, until +Sainte-Beuve in the <i>Revue des Deux +Mondes</i> of January 15, 1833, published +a review of this and the earlier poems, +indicating their beauty and originality, +the promise of the one and progress +of the other, with his infallible discernment +and discrimination. A few critics +followed his lead, others differed, and +discussions began again which could not +but spread the young man's fame. The +<i>Revue des Deux Mondes</i> was now open +to him, and henceforth, with a few exceptions, +whatever he wrote appeared in +that periodical. He made his entry with +the drama of <i>Andrea del Sarto</i>, which is +rife with tense and tragic situations and +deeply-moving scenes. The affairs of +the family turned out much better than +had been expected, but Alfred de Musset +continued to work with application and +ardor. His fine critical faculty kept his +vagaries within bounds: he knew better +than anybody "how much good sense it +requires to do without common sense"—a +dictum of his own. Like every true +artist, he took his subjects wherever he +found them: the dripping raindrops and +tolling of the convent-bell suggested one +of Chopin's most enchanting <i>Preludes;</i> +the accidental attitudes of women and +children in the street have given painters +and sculptors their finest groups; so a +bunch of fresh roses which De Musset's +mother put upon his table one morning +during his days of extravagant dissipation, +saying, "All this for fourpence," +gave him a happy idea for unravelling +the perplexity of Valentin in <i>Les Deux +Maîtresses;</i> and his unconscious exclamation, +"Si je vous le disais pourtant +que je vous aime," which caused a passer-by +in the street to laugh at him, furnished +the opening of the <i>Stances à Ninon</i>, +like Dante's</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Donne ch'avete intelletto d'amore.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>These fortunate dispositions were interrupted +by a meeting which affected +his character and genius more than any +other event in his life. It is curious that +Madame Sand and De Musset originally +avoided making each other's acquaintance. +She fancied that she should not +like him, and he, although greatly struck +by the genius of her first novel, <i>Indiana</i>, +disliked her overloaded style of writing, +and struck out in pencil a quantity of +superfluous adjectives and other parts of +speech in a copy which unluckily fell +into her hands. Their first encounter +was followed by a sudden, almost instantaneous, +mutual passion—on his part +the first and strongest if not the only +one, of his life. The first season of this +intimacy was like a long summer holiday. +"It seemed," writes the biographer, +"as if a partnership in which existence +was so gay, to which each brought such +contributions of talent, wit, grace, youth, +and good-humor, could never be dissolved. +It seemed as if such happy +people should find nothing better to do +than remain in a home which they had +made so attractive for themselves and +their friends.... I never saw such a +happy company, nor one which cared so +little about the rest of the world. Conversation +never flagged: they passed +their time in talking, drawing, and making +<a name="Page_486" id="Page_486"><span class="pagenum">Page 486</span></a>music. A childish glee reigned +supreme. They invented all sorts of +amusements, not because they were +bored, but because they were overflowing +with spirits." But Paris became too +narrow for them, and they fled—first to +Fontainebleau, then to Italy. Musset's +mother was deeply opposed to the latter +project, foreseeing misfortune with the +prescience of affection, and he promised +not to go without her consent, although +his heart was set upon it. The most incredible +story in the biography is that Madame +Sand actually surprised Madame +de Musset into an interview, and, by appeals, +eloquence, persuasion and vows, +obtained her sorrowful acquiescence.</p> + +<p>The lamentable story of that Italian +journey has been told too often and by +too many people to need repetition here. +No doubt Paul de Musset has told it as +fairly as could be expected from his brother's +side: probably the circumstances +occurred much as he sets them down. +But he could not make due allowance for +the effect which Alfred's dissolute habits +had produced upon his character: he +was but twenty-three, and had run the +round of vice; he had already depicted +the moral result of such courses in his +terrible allegory of "La Coupe et les +Lèvres:" the idea recurs throughout his +works, conspicuously in the <i>Confession +d'un Enfant du Siècle</i>, which is Madame +Sand's best apology. But if his excesses +had destroyed his ingenuousness, +she destroyed his faith in human nature, +and on her will ever rest the brand he +set in the burning words of the "Nuit +d'Octobre."</p> + +<p>He returned to Paris shattered in mind +and body, and shut himself up in his +room for months, unable to endure contact +with the outer world, or even that of +the loving home circle which environed +him with anxious tenderness. He could +not read or write: a favorite piece of +music from his young sister's piano, a +game of chess with his mother in the +evening, were his only recreations—his +only excitement the letters which still +came from Venice, for which he looked +with a sick longing, at which one cannot +wonder on reading them and remembering +what a companionship it was that he +had lost. Urged by his brother and his +friend M. Buloz, the director of the +<i>Revue des Deux Mondes</i>, to try the +efficacy of work, he completed his play +of <i>On ne badine pas avec l'Amour</i>, already +sketched, in which, of all his dramatic +writings, the cry of the heart is +most thrilling. Aided by this effort, he +made a journey to Baden in September, +five months after his miserable return +to Paris. The change of air and scene +restored him, and his votive offering +for the success of his pilgrimage was the +charming poem called "Une Bonne Fortune." +Although he had determined not +to see Madame Sand again, their connection +was renewed, in spite of himself, +when she came back from Italy: it lasted +for a short period, full of angry and melancholy +scenes, quarrels and reconciliations. +Then he broke loose for ever, and +went back to the world and his work.</p> + +<p>This episode, of which I have briefly +given the outline, was the principal event +of Alfred de Musset's life, the one which +marked and colored it most deeply, which +brought his genius to perfection by a +cruel and fiery torture, and left a lasting +imprint upon his writings. Although he +never produced anything finer than certain +passages of "Rolla," which was published +in 1833, yet previous to that—or +more accurately to 1835, when he began +to write again—he had composed no long +poem of equal merit throughout, none in +which the flight was sustained from first +to last. The magnificent series of the +"Nights" of May, December, August +and October, the "Letter to Lamartine," +"Stanzas on the Death of Malibran," +"Hope in God," and a number of others +of not less melody and vigor, but less +exalted and serious in tone; several +plays, among them <i>Lorenzaccio</i>, which +missed only by a very little being a fine +tragedy; the greater part of his prose +tales and criticisms, including <i>Le Fils +de Titien</i>, the most charming of his stories, +and the <i>Confession d'un Enfant +du Siècle</i>, which shows as much genius as +any of his poems,—belong to the period +from 1835 to 1840, his apogee. Of the +last work, notwithstanding its unmistakable +<a name="Page_487" id="Page_487"><span class="pagenum">Page 487</span></a>personal revelations—which, if they do +not tell the author's story, at least reflect +his state of mind—Paul de Musset says, +what everybody who has read his brother's +writings carefully will feel to be true, +that neither in the hero nor any other single +personage must we look for Alfred's +entire individuality. In the complexity +of his character and emotions, and the +contradictions which they united, are to +be found the eidolon of every young man +in his collection, even "the two heroes +of <i>Les Caprices de Marianne</i>, Octave and +Cœlio," says Paul, "although they are the +antipodes of one another." Neither is it +as easy as it would seem on the surface +to trace the thread of any one incident +of his life through his writings. Although +containing some irreconcilable passages, +the four "Nights" appeared to have been +born of the same impulse and to exact +the same dedication: it is undeniably a +shock to have their inconsistencies explained +by hearing that while the "Nuits +de Mai," "d'Août" and "d'Octobre" refer +to his passion for Madame Sand, the +"Nuit de Décembre" and "Lettre à Lamartine," +which naturally belong to this +series, were dictated by another attachment +and another disappointment. I will +not stop to moralize upon this: the story +of De Musset's life is really only the +story of his loves. His brother says that +he was always in love with somebody: it +was a necessity of his nature and his +genius. Before he was twenty-seven, +six different love-affairs are enumerated, +without taking into account numerous +affairs of gallantry; nor was the sixth +the last. The "Nuit d'Octobre" was +written two years and a half after his +return from Italy, and its terrible malediction +is the outbreak of the rankling +memory of his wrong and suffering. It +was psychologically in order that while +his love (which does not die in an hour, +like trust and respect) survived, it should +surround its object with lingering tenderness, +but that as it slowly expired indignation, +scorn and the sense of injury should +increase: this is their final utterance, followed +by pardon, a vow of forgetfulness +and farewell, but not a final farewell. +That was spoken years afterward, in 1841, +when, once again seeing by chance the +forest of Fontainebleau, and about the +same time casually encountering Madame +Sand, he poured forth his "Souvenir," +a poem of matchless sweetness +and beauty, vibrating with feeling and +most musical in expression—an exquisite +combination of lyric and elegy. In this +he calls her</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Ma seule amie à jamais la plus chère.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Ten years after this, in one of the last +strains of his unstrung harp, a fragment +called "Souvenir des Alpes," the sad +chord is touched once more: up to the +end it answered faintly to certain notes. +Long after their rupture and separation +he said that he would have given ten +years of his life to marry her had she +been free; and it is deplorable that the +most fervent and lasting affection of +which he was capable should have been +thrown back upon him in such sort.</p> + +<p>Of marriage there were several schemes +at different times: they fell through because +he was averse to them himself, +except one to which he much inclined, +the young lady being pretty, intelligent, +charming and the daughter of an old +friend; but on the first advances it turned +out that she was engaged to another +man. His biographer regrets this deeply, +convinced that such an alliance would +have been his brother's salvation; but +even if he could have been more constant +to his wife than to his mistresses, +the habit of intemperance was too confirmed +to admit much hope of domestic +happiness. The same may be opined in +regard to the vague hopes which were +destroyed by the death of the young duke +of Orleans. When Louis Philippe came +to the throne, De Musset made no attempt +to approach the royal family on +the pretext of the old school-friendship: +it was the duke himself who renewed it in +1836 on accidentally seeing some unpublished +verses of the poet's on the king's +escape from an attempt at assassination. +Louis Philippe himself did not like the +sonnet, considering the use of the poetic +<i>thou</i> too familiar a form of address: he +did not know who was the author; and +when Alfred was presented to him at a +<a name="Page_488" id="Page_488"><span class="pagenum">Page 488</span></a>court-ball took him for a cousin who was +inspector of the royal forests at Joinville, +and continued to greet him, under this +mistake, with a few gracious words two +or three times a year during the rest of +his reign, while the poet's name was on the +lips and in the heart of every one else. +The duke's favor and friendliness ended +only with his sad and sudden death.</p> + +<p>Paul de Musset tells us that the years +1837 and 1838 were the happiest in his +brother's life. The love-trouble which +had wrung from him the "Nuit de Décembre" +was a disappointment, but not +a deception, and the parting had caused +equal sorrow on both sides, but no bitterness. +After no long interval appeared +"a very young and very pretty person +whom he met frequently in society, +of an enthusiastic, passionate nature, +independent in her position, and who +bought the poet's books." An acquaintance, +a friendship, a correspondence, a +serious passion followed, and became a +relation which lasted two years "without +quarrel, storm, coolness or subject of +umbrage or jealousy—two years of love +without a cloud, of true happiness." Why +did it not last for ever? The biographer +does not give the answer. It is hinted in +a letter to Alfred's friend, the duchesse +de Castries, dated September, 1840, in +his <i>Œuvres posthumes</i>: "I have told +you how about a year ago an absurd passion, +totally useless and somewhat ridiculous, +made me break with all my habits. +I forsook all my surroundings, my friends +of both sexes, the current in which I was +living, and one of the prettiest women in +Paris. I did not succeed in my foolish +dream, you must understand; and now +I find myself cured, it is true, but high +and dry like a fish in a grain-field." This +is probably the clue, and the foolish dream +was for a woman to whom his brother +refers as having repelled Alfred's homage +with harshness, and having called +forth from him some short and extremely +bitter verses beginning "Oui, femme," +and another called "Adieu!" in which +there prevails a tone of quiet but deep +feeling. This is a sad story: he apparently +united the volatility and vagrancy +of fancy, the inconstancy of light shallow +natures, with the ardor and intensity +of passion and the capacity for suffering +which belong to strong and steadfast +ones. There was a childlike quality in +his disposition, which showed itself in a +sort of simplicity and spontaneousness +in the midst of a corrupt existence, and +still more in the uncontrollable, absorbing +violence of his emotions: they swept +over him, momentarily devastating his +present and blotting out the horizon, but +unlike the tempests of childhood their +ravages did not disappear when the +clouds dispersed and the torrents subsided. +The life of debauchery which +had preceded his journey to Italy was replaced, +for some years, by a less excessive +degree of dissipation, during which +he lived with a fast set, who, however, +were men of talent and accomplishments, +the foremost among them being Prince +Belgiojoso. The influence of the two fortunate +years, 1837-38, not only the happiest +but the most fertile of his short career, +seems to have weakened these associations +and led him into calmer paths. +He had formed several friendships with +women of a sort which both parties may +regard with pride, in particular with +the Princess Belgiojoso, one of the most +striking and original figures of our monotonous +time, and Madame Maxime +Jaubert, a clever, attractive young woman +with a delightful house, whom he +called his <i>Marraine</i> because she had +given him a nickname. These women, +and others—but these two above the rest—were +sincerely and loyally attached to +him with a disinterested regard which did +not spare advice, nor even rebuke, or relax +under his loss of health and brilliancy +or neglect of their kindness, which nevertheless +he felt and valued. His purest +source of pleasure was in the talent of +others, which gave him a generous and +sympathetic enjoyment. The appearance +of Pauline Garcia—now Madame +Viardot—and Rachel, who came out almost +simultaneously at the age of seventeen, +added delight to the two happy +years. He has left notices of the +first performances of these artistes, the +former in opera, the latter on the stage +(for he was musical himself and a <i>connoisseur</i>) +<a name="Page_489" id="Page_489"><span class="pagenum">Page 489</span></a>which are excellent criticisms, +and have even more interest than when +they appeared, now that the career of +one has long been closed and that of the +other long completed. His relations with +Rachel lasted for many years, interrupted +by the gusts and blasts which the +contact of two such natures inevitably +begets. She constantly urged him to +write a play for her, and in the year +after her <i>début</i> he wrote a fragment of a +drama on the story of Frédegonde, which +she learned by heart and occasionally +recited in private; but there were endless +delays and difficulties on both sides, +and the rest was not written. After various +episodes and passages between +them, De Musset was dining with her one +evening when she had become a great +lady and queen of the theatre, and her +other guests were all rich men of fashion. +One of them admired an extremely beautiful +and costly ring which she wore. It +was first passed round the table from +hand to hand, and then she said they +might bid for it. One immediately offered +five hundred francs, another fifteen, +and the ring went up at once to +three thousand: "And you, my poet, +why do not you bid? What will you +give?" "I will give you my heart," he +replied. "The ring is yours," cried +Rachel, taking it off and throwing it +into his plate. After dinner De Musset +tried to restore it to her, but she refused +to take it back: he urged and insisted, +when she, suddenly falling on her knee +with that sovereign charm of seduction +for which she was as renowned as for +her tragic power, entreated him to keep +it as a pledge for the piece he was to +write for her. The poet took the ring, +and went home excited and wrought up +to the resolve that nothing should interfere +with the completion of his task. +But it was the old story again—whims +and postponements on Rachel's part, +possibly temper and pique on his—until +six months afterward, at the end of an +angry conversation, he silently replaced +the ring on her hand, and she did not +resist. Four years later the compact was +renewed, and although by this time De +Musset had to all intents and purposes +ceased to write, he struck off the first act +of a play called <i>Faustina</i>, the scene of +which was laid in Venice in the fourteenth +century; but he put off finishing +it, and finally let it drop altogether.</p> + +<p>In December, 1840, Alfred de Musset +was thirty years old, and on his birthday +he had one of those reckonings with +himself, which the most deliberately +careless and volatile men cannot escape. +At twenty-one he had held a +similar settlement: he was then uncertain +of his genius, dissatisfied with his +way of life and with the use he made of +his time: the result was his adoption of +a more serious line of study and conduct, +which had led him, in spite of interruptions +and aberrations, to the brilliant display +of his beautiful and splendid talents, +the full exercise of his wonderful powers. +Now another review of his past and survey +of his future left him in a mood of +discontent and depression. He felt that +he could not always go on being a boy. +The year behind him had been almost +sterile, and marked by the loss of many +of what he called his illusions. He had +been implored and urged to write by his +friends and editors, had made and broken +promises without number to the latter, +and had become involved in money difficulties +to a degree which kept him in +constant anxiety and torment. Yet he +steadily rejected all his brother's affectionate +advice and importunities to shake +off the deepening lethargy. He would +not write poetry because the Muse did +not come of her free will, and he would +never do her violence. He had forsworn +prose, because he said everybody +wrote that, and many so ill that he would +not swell the number of magazine story-writers, +who, he foresaw, were to lower +the standard of fiction and style. In +short, he always had an excuse for doing +nothing, and although he hated above +all things to leave Paris, and seldom accepted +the invitations of his friends in +the country, he now repeatedly rushed +out of town to escape the visits of editors, +who had become no better than duns in +his eyes. When at home he shut himself +in his room for days together in so +gloomy a frame of mind that even his +<a name="Page_490" id="Page_490"><span class="pagenum">Page 490</span></a>brother did not venture to break in upon +him: he even made a furtive attempt at +suicide one night when his despondency +reached its lowest depth; it was foiled +by the accident of Paul's having unloaded +the pistols and locked up the powder +and balls some time before. He grew +morbidly irritable, and resented Paul's remonstrances, +which, we may be sure, were +made with all the tact and consideration +of natural delicacy and unselfish affection, +generally by laughing at the poor +poet, which was the most effectual way +of restoring his courage and good-humor. +One morning he emerged from his seclusion, +and with vindictive desperation +threw before his brother a quantity of +manuscripts, saying, "You <i>would</i> have +prose: there it is for you." It was the +introduction to a sort of romance called +<i>Le Poète déchu</i>, a wretched story of a +young man of many gifts who finds himself +under the necessity of writing for +the support of his orphan sisters, and it +described with harrowing eloquence the +vain efforts of his exhausted brain. The +extracts in the biography are painfully +affecting and powerful, but the work was +never finished or published. Such a state +of things could not go on indefinitely, +and De Musset fell dangerously ill of congestion +of the lungs, brought on by reckless +imprudence when already far from +well: the attack was accompanied by so +much fever and delirium that it was at +first mistaken for brain fever. This illness +redoubled the tenderness and devotion +of his family and friends: his Marraine +and Princess Belgiojoso took turns +by his bedside, magnetizing the unruly +patient into quiescence; but the person +who exercised the greatest influence over +him was a poor Sister of Charity, Sœur +Marcelline, who was engaged to assist +in nursing him. The untiring care, self-abnegation, +angelic sweetness and serenity +of this humble woman gained the attachment +of the whole family, and established +an ascendency over Alfred's impressionable +imagination. She did not +confine her office to her patient's physical +welfare, but strove earnestly to minister +to him spiritually. His long convalescence +"was like a second birth. He +did not seem more than seventeen: he +had the joyousness of a child, the fancies +of a page, like Cherubino in the <i>Marriage +of Figaro</i>. All the difficulties and subjects +of despair which preceded his malady +had vanished in a rose-colored distance. +He passed his days in reading +interminable books—<i>Clarissa Harlowe</i>, +which he already knew, the <i>Memorial of +St. Helena</i>, and all the memoirs relating +to the Empire. In the evening we all +gathered about his writing-table to draw +and chat, while Sœur Marcelline sat by +knitting in bright worsteds. Auguste +Barre, our neighbor, came to work at an +album of caricatures in the style of Töppfer's, +and we all amused ourselves with +the comic illustrations: Alfred and Barre +had the pencil, the rest of us composed +a text as absurd as the drawings. Who +will give us back those delicious evenings +of laughter, jest and chat, when without +stirring from home or depending on anything +from without our whole household +was so happy?" Alas! they were not +of long duration. By and by Sister Marcelline +went away, leaving her patient a +pen on which she had embroidered, "Remember +your promises." He was afflicted +by her departure, and wrote some +lines to her, who, as he said, did not +know what poetry meant, but he could +never be induced to show them, although +he repeated them to Paul and their friend +Alfred Tattet, who between them contrived +to note down the four following +verses:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Poor girl! thou art no longer fair.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By watching Death with patient care<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thou pale as he art grown:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By tending upon human pain<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy hand is worn as coarse in grain<br /></span> +<span class="i1">As horny Labor's own.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But weariness and courage meek<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Illuminate thy pallid cheek<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Beside the dying bed:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the poor suffering mortal's clutch<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy hard hand hath a gentle touch,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">With tears and warm blood fed.<br /></span> +</div> +<hr class="minor"/><br /> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Tread to the end thy lonely road,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All for thy task and toward thy God,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thy footsteps day by day.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That evil must exist, we prate,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And wisely leave it to its fate,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And pass another way;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But thy pure conscience owns it not,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Though ceaseless warfare is thy lot<br /></span> +<a name="Page_491" id="Page_491"><span class="pagenum">Page 491</span></a> +<span class="i1">Against disease and woe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No ills for thee have power to sting,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor to thy lip a murmur bring,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Save those that others know.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>De Musset held in peculiar sacredness +and reverence whatever was connected +with this good woman and his feeling for +her: seventeen years after this illness the +embroidered pen and a piece of her knitting +were buried with him by almost his +last request.</p> + +<p>Seventeen years! a large bit of any +one's life—more than a third of Alfred +de Musset's own term—yet there is hardly +anything to say about it. The "Souvenir," +which was written about six months +after his recovery, is the last poem in +which all his strength, beauty and pathos +find expression: he never wrote again in +this vein: it was the last echo of his youth. +He composed less and less frequently, +and though what he wrote was redolent +of sentiment, wit, grace and elegance, +and some of the short occasional verses +have a consummate charm of finish, the +soul seems gone out of his poetry. His +brother mentions a number of compositions +begun, but thrown aside; there +were projects of travel never carried out; +he gradually gave up the society of even +his oldest friends: everything indicated +a rapid decline of the active faculties. +Unhappily, that of suffering seemed only +to increase—no longer the sharp anguish +of unspent force which had wrung from +him the passionate cries and plaintive +murmurs of former years, but the dull +numbness of hopelessness. His existence +was monotonous, and the few occurrences +which varied it were of a sad +or unpleasant nature. His sister married +and left Paris, and his mother subsequently +went to live with her in the +country, thus breaking up their family +circle; Paul de Musset was absent from +France for considerable spaces of time, +so that for the first time Alfred de Musset +was compelled to live alone. Friends +scattered, some died: the Orleans family, +for whom he had a real affection, +was driven from France; he fancied that +his genius was unappreciated—a notion +which, strangely enough, his brother +shared—and although he was the last +man to rage or mope over misapprehension, +the idea certainly added to his +gloom. Through the good graces of the +duke of Orleans he had been appointed +librarian of the Home Office, a post of +which he was instantly deprived on the +change of government; but a few years +later he was unexpectedly given a similar +one in the Department of Public Education. +In 1852 he was elected to the +French Academy, that honor so limited +by the small number of members, so +ridiculed by unsuccessful aspirants, yet +without which no French author feels his +career to be complete. His plays were +being performed with great favor, his +poems and tales were becoming more +and more popular, his verses were set to +music, his stories were illustrated: but +all this brought no cheer or consolation +to the sick spirit. He lived more and +more alone: the Théâtre Français, a silent +game of chess at his café, the deadly +absinthe, were his only sources of excitement. +It is a comfort to learn that +the last ray of pleasure which penetrated +his moral dungeon, reviving for an instant +the generous glow of enthusiasm, +was the appearance of Ristori: inspired +by her, he began a poetical address which +he never finished, nor even wrote down, +but a fragment of it was preserved orally +by one or two who heard it:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">For Pauline and Rachel I sang of hope,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And over Malibran a tear I shed;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, thanks to thee, I see the mighty scope<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Of strength and genius wed.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah keep them long! The heart which breathes the prayer<br /></span> +<span class="i1">When genius calls has ever made reply,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bear smiling home to Italy the fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">A flower from our sky.<br /></span> +</div> +<hr class="minor"/><br /> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They tell me that in spite of grief and wrong,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And pride bent earthward by a tyrant's heel,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A noble race, though crushed and conquered long,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Has not yet learned to kneel.<br /></span> +</div> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Rome's godlike dwellers of a bygone age,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">The marble, porphyry, alabaster forms,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still live: at night, to speech upon the stage,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">An ancient statue warms.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>What was the cause of De Musset's unhappiness +and impotence? His brother +tries to account for them by an enumeration +of the distresses and annoyances +mentioned above, and others of +<a name="Page_492" id="Page_492"><span class="pagenum">Page 492</span></a>the same order; but when one remembers +how the poet's great sorrows, his +father's death and the betrayal of his +affection by the first woman he really +loved, had given him his finest conceptions +in verse and prose, it is impossible +to accept so insufficient an explanation. +Nor can we allow that De Musset sank +into a condition of puerile impatience and +senile querulousness. Judged by our +standard, all the Latin races lack manhood, +as we may possibly do by theirs: +De Musset was only as much more sensitive +than the rest of his countrymen as +those of the poetic temperament are usually +found to be in all countries. Nor had +he seen his talent slowly expire: the +spring did not run dry by degrees: it +suddenly sank into the ground. He had +made a fearful mistake at the outset, +which he discovered too late if at all. +Considering what life is sure to bring to +every one in the way of trial and sorrow, +it is not worth while to go in search of +emotions and experience which are certain +to find us out; nor is it in the slums +of life that its meaning is to be sought. +He had foretold his own end in the +prophetic warning of his Muse:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Quand les dieux irrités m'ôteront ton génie,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Si je tombe des cieux que me répondras-tu?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>His light was not lost in a storm-cloud +nor eclipse, but in the awful Radnorok, +the Götterdämmerung, when sun and +stars fall from a blank heaven. His +health and habits constantly grew worse—he +had organic disease of the heart—but +his existence dragged on until May +1st, 1857, when an acute attack carried +him off after a few days' illness. He +died in his brother's arms, and his last +words were, "Sleep! at last I shall sleep." +He had killed himself physically and intellectually +as surely as the wages of sin +are death.</p> + +<p>But let not this be the last word on +one so beloved as a poet and a man. +Mental qualities alone never endear their +possessor to every being that comes into +contact with him, and Alfred de Musset +was idolized by people who could not +even read. There was not a generous or +amiable quality in which he was wanting: +he had an inextinguishable ardor +for genius and greatness in every form; +he was tender-hearted to excess, could +not endure the sight of suffering, and delighted +in giving pleasure; his sympathy +was ready and entire, his loyalty of the +truest metal. "He never abused anybody," +says his brother, "nor sacrificed +an absent person for the sake of a good +story." He loved animals and children, +and they loved him in return.</p> + +<p>He can never cease to be the poet of +the many, for he has melody, sentiment, +passion, all that charms the popular ear +and heart—a personality which is the +expression of human nature in a language +which, as he himself says, few +speak, but all understand. He can +never cease to be the poet of the few, +because, while his poems are a very concentration +and elixir of the most intense +and profound feelings of which we are all +capable, they give words to the more exquisite +and intimate emotions peculiar to +those of a keener and more refined susceptibility, +of a more exalted and aërial +range. Sainte-Beuve says somewhere, +though not in his final verdict on De +Musset, that his chief merit is having restored +to French literature the wit which +had been driven out of it by the sentimentalists. +His wit is indeed delightful +and irresistible, but it is not his magic +key to souls. In other countries every +generation has its own poet: younger +ears are deaf to the music which so long +charmed ours; but De Musset will be the +poet of each new generation for a certain +season—the sweetest of all, because, as +has been well said, he is the poet of +youth. And if doubt breathes through +some of his grandest strophes, Faith +finds her first and last profession in +the lines—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">Une immense espérance a traversé la terre;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Malgré nous vers le ciel il faut lever les yeux.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="author">Sarah B. Wister.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_493" id="Page_493"><span class="pagenum">Page 493</span></a></p> +<h2><a name="The_Bee" id="The_Bee"></a>The Bee.</h2> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What time I paced, at pleasant morn,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A deep and dewy wood,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I heard a mellow hunting-horn<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Make dim report of Dian's lustihood<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far down a heavenly hollow.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mine ear, though fain, had pain to follow:<br /></span> +<span class="i1"><i>Tara!</i> it twang'd, <i>tara-tara!</i> it blew,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Yet wavered oft, and flew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Most ficklewise about, or here, or there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A music now from earth and now from air.<br /></span> +<span class="i1">But on a sudden, lo!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">I marked a blossom shiver to and fro<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With dainty inward storm; and there within<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A down-drawn trump of yellow jessamine<br /></span> +<span class="i6">A bee<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Thrust up its sad-gold body lustily,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All in a honey madness hotly bound<br /></span> +<span class="i6">On blissful burglary.<br /></span> +<span class="i12">A cunning sound<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In that wing-music held me: down I lay<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In amber shades of many a golden spray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where looping low with languid arms the Vine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In wreaths of ravishment did overtwine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her kneeling Live-Oak, thousand-fold to plight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Herself unto her own true stalwart knight.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">As some dim blur of distant music nears<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The long-desiring sense, and slowly clears<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To forms of time and apprehensive tune,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">So, as I lay, full soon<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Interpretation throve: the bee's fanfare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through sequent films of discourse vague as air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Passed to plain words, while, fanning faint perfume,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bee o'erhung a rich unrifled bloom:<br /></span> +<span class="i1">"O Earth, fair lordly Blossom, soft a-shine<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Upon the star-pranked universal vine,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Hast naught for me?<br /></span> +<span class="i12">To thee<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Come I, a poet, hereward haply blown,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">From out another worldflower lately flown.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wilt ask, <i>What profit e'er a poet brings?</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">He beareth starry stuff about his wings<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To pollen thee and sting thee fertile: nay,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If still thou narrow thy contracted way,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">—Worldflower, if thou refuse me—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">—Worldflower, if thou abuse me,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And hoist thy stamen's spear-point high<br /></span> +<span class="i1">To wound my wing and mar mine eye—<br /></span> +<a name="Page_494" id="Page_494"><span class="pagenum">Page 494</span></a> +<span class="i0">Natheless I'll drive me to thy deepest sweet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yea, richlier shall that pain the pollen beat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From me to thee, for oft these pollens be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fine dust from wars that poets wage for thee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, O beloved Earthbloom soft a-shine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon the universal jessamine,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Prithee abuse me not,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Prithee refuse me not;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yield, yield the heartsome honey love to me<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Hid in thy nectary!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And as I sank into a suaver dream<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The pleading bee-song's burthen sole did seem,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Hast ne'er a honey-drop of love for me<br /></span> +<span class="i4">In thy huge nectary?"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p class="author">Sidney Lanier.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Our_Jook" id="Our_Jook"></a>"Our Jook."</h2> + + +<p>"Königin," said I, as I poked the +fire, "what do you think of the +people in the house?"</p> + +<p>On second thoughts it was not "Königin" +that I said, for it was only that night +that she received the title. It is of no +consequence what I did call her, however, +for from that time she was never +anything but Königin to me.</p> + +<p>We began to "talk things over," as +we had a way of doing; and very good +fun it was and quite harmless, provided +the ventilator was not open. That had +happened once or twice, and got us into +quite serious scrapes. People have such +an utterly irrational objection to your +amusing yourself in the most innocent +way at what they consider their expense.</p> + +<p>Königin and I had come to the boarding-house +that very day. We were by +ourselves, for our male protectors were +off "a-hunting the wild deer and following +the roe"—or its Florida equivalent, +whatever that may be—and we did not +fancy staying at a hotel under the circumstances. +Now, we had taken our +observations, and were prepared to pronounce +our opinions on our fellow-boarders. +One after another was canvassed +and dismissed. Mr. A. had eccentric +table-manners; Miss B. wriggled and +squirmed when she talked; Mrs. C. was +much too lavish of inappropriate epithets; +Mr. X.'s conversation, on the contrary, +was quite bald and bare from the utter +lack of those parts of speech; Miss Y. +had a nice face, and Mrs. Z. a pretty +hand.</p> + +<p>Just here Königin suddenly burst out +laughing. "Really," she said, "we go +about the world criticising people as if +we were King Solomon and the queen +of Sheba."</p> + +<p>"'Die Königin von Seba,'" said I. +"That, I suppose, is you and our motto +should be, 'Wir sind das Volk und die +Weisheit stirbt mit uns.'"</p> + +<p>I was not at all sure of the accuracy +of my translation, but its appropriateness +was unquestionable.</p> + +<p>"What do you think of the Englishman, +Königin?" I asked, giving the fire +another poke, not from shamefacedness, +but because it really needed it, for the +evening was damp and chilly.</p> + +<p>"I like him," said Königin decidedly.</p> + +<p>Königin and I were always prepared +with decided opinions, whether we knew +anything about the subject in hand or +not.</p> + +<p>"He has a fine head," Königin went +on, "quite a ducal contour, according to +<a name="Page_495" id="Page_495"><span class="pagenum">Page 495</span></a>our republican ideas of what a duke +ought to be. I like the steady intense +light of his eyes under those straight +dark brows, and that little frown only +increases the effect. Then his laugh is +so frank and boyish. Yes, I like him +very much."</p> + +<p>"He has a nice gentlemanly voice," I +suggested—"rather on the 'gobble-gobble' +order, but that is the fault of his +English birth."</p> + +<p>This is enough of that conversation, +for, after all, neither of us is the heroine +of this tale. It is well that this should +be distinctly understood at the start. +Somehow, "the Jook" (as we generally +called him, in memory of Jeames Yellowplush) +and I became very intimate +after that, but it was never anything more +than a sort of <i>camaraderie</i>. Königin +knew all about it, and she pronounced +it the most remarkable instance of a +purely intellectual flirtation which she +had ever seen; which was all quite correct, +except for the term "flirtation," of +which it never had a spice.</p> + +<p>One of the Jook's most striking peculiarities, +though by no means an uncommon +one among his countrymen, was a +profound distrust of new acquaintances +and an utter incapacity of falling into +the free and easy ways which prevail +more strongly perhaps in Florida than +in any other part of America. There +really was some excuse for him, though, +for, not to put it too strongly, society +is a little mixed in Florida, and it is +hard for a foreigner to discriminate closely +enough to avoid being drawn into unpleasant +complications if he relaxes in +the slightest degree his rules of reserve. +Besides which, the Jook was a man of +the most morbid and ultra refinement. +"Refinement" was the word he preferred, +but I should have called it an absurd +squeamishness. He could make no allowance +for personal or local peculiarities, +and eccentricities in our neighbors +which delighted Königin and me and +sent us into fits of laughter excited in +his mind only the most profound disgust. +Therefore, partly in the fear of having +his sensibilities unpleasantly jarred upon, +partly from the fear of making objectionable +acquaintances whom he might afterward +be unable to shake off, and partly +from an inherent and ineradicable shyness, +he went about clad in a mantle of +gloomy reserve, speaking to no one, looking +at no one—"grand, gloomy and peculiar." +It was currently reported that +previous to our arrival he had never +spoken to a creature in the boarding-house, +though he had been an inmate +of it for six weeks. For the rest, he was +clever and intelligent, with frank, honest, +boyish ways, which I liked, even though +they were sometimes rather exasperating.</p> + +<p>It was not quite pleasant, for instance, +to hear him speak of Americans in the +frank and unconstrained manner which +he adopted when talking to us. We +could hardly wonder at it when we looked +at the promiscuous crowd which formed +his idea of American society. Refined +and well-bred people there certainly were, +but these were precisely the ones who +never forced themselves upon his notice, +leaving him to be struck and stunned by +fast and hoydenish young ladies, ungrammatical +and ill-bred old ones, and +men of all shades of boorishness and +swagger, such as make themselves conspicuous +in every crowd. Unluckily, +both Königin and I have English blood +in our veins, and the Jook could not be +convinced that we did not eagerly snatch +at the chance thus presented of claiming +the title of British subjects. It is quite +hopeless to attempt to convince Englishmen +that any American would not be +British if he could. Pride in American +citizenship is an idea utterly monstrous +and inconceivable to them, and they can +look on the profession of it in no other +light than that of a laudable attempt at +making the best of a bad case. Therefore, +the Jook persisted in ignoring our +protestations of patriotic ardor, and in +paying us the delicate compliment of +considering us English and expressing +his views on America with a beautiful +frankness which kept us in a frame of +mind verging on delirium.</p> + +<p>What was to be done with such a man? +Clearly, but one thing, and I sighed for +one of our American belles who should +come and see and conquer this impracticable +<a name="Page_496" id="Page_496"><span class="pagenum">Page 496</span></a>Englishman. At present, things +seemed quite hopeless. There was no one +within reach who would have the slightest +chance of success in such an undertaking. +Though outsiders gave me the +credit of his subjugation, I knew quite +well that there not only was not, but +never could be, the necessary tinge of +sentimentality in our intercourse. We +were much too free and easy for that, +and we laughed and talked, rambled and +boated together, "like two babes in the +woods," as Königin was fond of remarking.</p> + +<p>It was in Florida that all this took place—in +shabby, fascinating Jacksonville, +where one meets everybody and does +nothing in particular except lounge about +and be happy. So the Jook and I lounged +and were happy with a placid, unexciting +sort of happiness, until the day when +Kitty Grey descended upon us with the +suddenness of a meteor, and very like +one in her bewildering brightness.</p> + +<p>Kitty was by no means pretty, but, +though women recognized this fact, the +man who could be convinced of it remains +yet to be discovered. You might +force them to confess that Kitty's nose +was flat, her eyes not well shaped, her +teeth crooked, her mouth slightly awry, +but it always came back to the same +point: "Curious that with all these defects +she should still be so exquisitely +pretty!"</p> + +<p>Really, I did not so much wonder at it +myself sometimes when I saw Kitty's +pale cheeks flush with that delicious +pink, her wide hazel eyes deepen and +glow, her little face light up with elfish +mirth, and her round, childish figure +poise itself in some coquettish attitude. +Then she had such absurd little hands, +with short fingers and babyish dimples, +such tiny feet, and such a wealth of +crinkled dark-brown hair—such bewitching +little helpless ways, too, a fashion of +throwing herself appealingly on your compassion +which no man on earth could resist! +At bottom she was a self-reliant, +independent little soul, but no mortal +man ever found that out: Kitty was far +too wise.</p> + +<p>Of course, as soon as I saw Kitty I +thought of the Jook. Would he or wouldn't +he? On the whole, I was rather afraid +he wouldn't, for Kitty's laugh sometimes +rang out a little too loud, and Kitty's +spirits sometimes got the better of her +and set her frisking like a kitten, and I +was afraid the modest sense of propriety +which was one of the Jook's strong points +would not survive it. However, I concluded +to risk it, but just here a sudden +and unforeseen obstacle checked my triumphant +course.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Warriner," I said sweetly (I was +always horribly afraid I should call him +Mr. Jook, but I never did), "I want to +introduce you to my friend, Miss Grey."</p> + +<p>The Jook looked at me with his most +placid smile, and replied blandly, "Thank +you very much, but <i>I'd rather not</i>."</p> + +<p>Did any one ever hear of such a man? +I understood his reasons well enough, +though he did not take the trouble to +explain them: it was only exclusiveness +gone mad. And he prided himself upon +his race and breeding, and considered +our American men boors!</p> + +<p>After that I nearly gave up his case as +hopeless, and devoted myself to Kitty, +whom I really believe the Jook did not +know by sight after having been for +nearly a week in the same house with +her.</p> + +<p>Kitty once or twice mildly insinuated +her desire to know him. "He has such +a nice face," she said plaintively, "and +such lovely little curly brown whiskers! +He is the only man in the house worth +looking at, but if I happen to come up +when he is talking to you, he instantly +disappears. He must think me <i>very</i> +ugly."</p> + +<p>It was really very embarrassing to me, +for of course I could not tell her that the +Jook had declined the honor of an introduction. +I knew, as well as if she had +told me so, that Kitty in her secret heart +accused me of a mean and selfish desire +to keep him all to myself, but I was +obliged meekly to endure the obloquy, +undeserved as it was. Königin used to +go into fits of laughter at my dilemma, +and just at this period my admiration of +the Jook went down to the lowest ebb. +"He is a selfish, conceited creature!" I +<a name="Page_497" id="Page_497"><span class="pagenum">Page 497</span></a>exclaimed in my wrath. "I really believe +he thinks that bewitching little Kitty +would fall in love with him forthwith +if he submitted to an introduction. Oh, +I <i>do</i> wish he knew what we thought of +him! <i>Why</i> doesn't he listen outside of +ventilators?"</p> + +<p>"My dear," said Königin, still laughing, +though sympathetic, "it strikes me +that we began by making rather a demi-god +of the man, and are ending by stripping +him of even the good qualities which +he probably does possess."</p> + +<p>Well! things went on in this exasperating +way for a week or so longer. Of +course I washed my hands of the Jook, +for I was too much exasperated to be +even civil to him. Kitty was as bright +and good-natured as ever, ready to enjoy +all the little pleasures that came in her +way, though now and then I fancied that +I detected a stealthy, wistful look at the +Jook's impassive face.</p> + +<p>It was lovely that day, but fearfully +hot. The sun showered down its burning +rays upon the white Florida sands, +the sky was one arch of cloudless blue, +and the water-oaks swung their moss-wreaths +languidly over the deserted +streets. We had been dreaming and +drowsing away the morning, Königin, +Kitty and I, in the jelly-fish-like state +into which one naturally falls in Florida.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Kitty sprang to her feet. "I +can't stand this any longer," she said: +"I shall turn into an oyster if I vegetate +here. Please, do you see any shells +sprouting on my back yet?"</p> + +<p>"What do you want to do?" I asked +drowsily. "You can't walk in this heat, +and if you go on the river the sun will +take the skin off your face, and where +are you then, Miss Kitty?"</p> + +<p>"I can't help that," retorted Kitty in +a tone of desperation. "I don't exactly +know where I shall go, but I think in +pursuit of some yellow jessamine."</p> + +<p>I sat straight up and gazed at her: +"Are you mad, Kitty? Has the heat +addled your brain already? You would +have to walk at least a mile before you +could find any; and what's the good of +it, after all? It would all be withered +before you could get home."</p> + +<p>"Can't help that," repeated Kitty: "I +shall have had it, at all events. Any +way, I'm going, and you two can finish +your dreams in peace."</p> + +<p>It was useless to argue with Kitty when +she was in that mood, so I contented myself +with giving her directions for reaching +the nearest copse where she would +be likely to find the fragrant beauty.</p> + +<p>Two hours later Königin sat at the +window gazing down the long sandy +street. Suddenly her face changed, an +expression of interest and surprise came +into her dreamy eyes: she put up her +glass, and then broke into a laugh. +"Come and look at this," she exclaimed; +and I came.</p> + +<p>What I saw was only Kitty and the +Jook, but Kitty and the Jook walking +side by side in the most amicable manner—Kitty +sparkling, bewitching, helpless, +appealing by turns or altogether as +only she could be; the Jook watching +her with an expression of amusement +and delight on his handsome face. And +both were laden with great wreaths and +trails of yellow jessamine, golden chalices +of fragrance, drooping sprays of +green glistening leaves, until they looked +like walking bowers.</p> + +<p>"How on earth—" I exclaimed, and +could get no further: my feelings choked +me.</p> + +<p>Kitty came in radiant and smiling as +the morning, bearing her treasures. Of +course we both pounced upon her: "Kitty, +where did you meet the Jook? How +did it happen? What did you do?"</p> + +<p>"Cows!" said Kitty solemnly, with +grave lips and twinkling eyes.</p> + +<p>"Cows? Cows in Florida? Kitty, +<i>what</i> do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"A cow ran at me, and I was frightened +and ran at Mr. Warriner. He drove +the cow off. That's all. Then he walked +home with me. Any harm in that?"</p> + +<p>"Now, Kitty, the idea! A Florida +cow run at you? If you had said a pig, +there might be some sense in it, for the +pigs here do have some life about them; +but a cow! Why, the creatures have not +strength enough to stand up: they are +all starving by inches."</p> + +<p>"Can't help that," said Kitty. "Must +<a name="Page_498" id="Page_498"><span class="pagenum">Page 498</span></a>have thought I was good to eat, then, I +suppose. I thought she was going to +toss me, but I don't think it would be +much more agreeable to be eaten. Mr. +Warriner is my preserver, anyhow, and +I shall treat him <i>'as sich</i>.'"</p> + +<p>Kitty looked so mischievous and so +mutinous that there was evidently no use +in trying to get anything more out of her, +and after standing there a few minutes +fingering her blossoms and smiling to +herself, she danced off to dress for tea.</p> + +<p>"Selfish little thing, not to offer us one +of those lovely sprays!" I exclaimed, +but Königin laughed: "My dear, they +are hallowed. Our touch would profane +them."</p> + +<p>Königin always saw further than I +did, and I gasped: "Königin! you don't +think—"</p> + +<p>"Oh no, dear, not yet. Kitty is piqued, +and wants to fascinate the Jook a little—just +a little as yet, but she may burn her +fingers before she gets through. Looks +are contagious, and—did you see her +face?"</p> + +<p>Such a brilliant little figure as slipped +softly into the dining-room that evening, +all wreathed and twisted and garlanded +about with the shining green vines, gemmed +with their golden stars. Head and +throat and waist and round white arms +were all twined with them, and blossoming +sprays and knots of the delicately +carved blossoms drooped or clung here +and there amid her floating hair and +gauzy black drapery. How did the child +ever make them stick? How had she +managed to decorate herself so elaborately +in the short time that had elapsed +since her return? But Kitty had ways +of doing things unknown to duller mortals.</p> + +<p>Not a word had Kitty for me that +evening, but for her father such clinging, +coaxing, wheedling ways, and for +the Jook such coy, sparkling, artfully-accidental +glances, such shy turns of +the little head, such dainty capricious +airs, that it was delicious to watch her. +Königin and I sat in a dark corner for +the express purpose of admiring her delicate +little manœuvres. As for her father, +good stolid man! he was well used to +Kitty's freaks, and went on reading his +newspaper in such a matter-of-fact way +that she might as well have wheedled +the Pyramid of Cheops. The Jook, however, +was all that could be desired. The +shyest of men—shy and proud as only +an Englishman can be—he could not +make up his mind to walk directly up +to Kitty, as an American would do, as +all the young Americans in the room +would have done if Kitty had let them. +But Kitty, flighty little butterfly as she +seemed, had stores of tact and finesse +in that little brain of hers, and the power +of developing a fine reserve which had +already wilted more than one of the +young men of the house. For Kitty was +none of your arrant and promiscuous +flirts who count "all fish that come to +their net." She was choice and dainty +in her flirtations, but, possibly, none the +less dangerous for that.</p> + +<p>The Jook hovered about the room from +chair to sofa, from sofa to window-seat, +finding himself at each remove one degree +nearer to Kitty.</p> + +<p>"He is like a tame canary-bird," +whispered Königin. "Let it alone and +it will come up to you after a while, but +speak to it and you frighten it off at +once."</p> + +<p>And when at length he reached Kitty's +side, how beautiful was the look of +slight surprise, not <i>too</i> strongly marked, +and the half-shy pleasure in the eyes +which she raised to him; and then the +coy little gesture with which she swept +aside her draperies and made room for +him. Half the power of Kitty's witcheries +lay in her frank, childish manner, +just dashed with womanly reserve.</p> + +<p>Well! the Jook was thoroughly in the +vortex now: there was no doubt about +that. Kitty might laugh as loud as she +pleased, and he only looked charmed. +Kitty might frisk like a will-o'-the wisp, +and he only admired her innocent vivacity. +Even the bits of slang and the +Americanisms which occasionally slipped +from her only struck him as original +and piquant. How would it all end? +That neither Königin nor I could divine, +for Kitty was not one to wear her heart +upon her sleeve. It was very little that +<a name="Page_499" id="Page_499"><span class="pagenum">Page 499</span></a>we saw of Kitty in these days, for she +was always wandering off somewhere, +boating on the broad placid river or +lounging about "Greenleaf's" or driving—always +with the Jook for cavalier, +and, if the excursions were long, with +her father to play propriety. When she +did come into our room, she was not our +own Kitty, with her childish airs and +merry laughter. This was a brilliant and +volatile little woman of the world, who +rattled on in the most amusing manner +about everything—except the Jook. +About him her lips never opened, and +the most distant allusion to him on our +part was sufficient to send her fluttering +off on some pressing and suddenly remembered +errand. Yet this reserve +hardly seemed like the shyness of conscious +but unacknowledged love. On +the contrary, we both fancied—Königin +and I—that Kitty began to look worried, +and somehow, in watching her and the +Jook, we began to be conscious that a +sort of constraint had crept into her manner +toward him. It could be no doubt +of his feelings that caused it, for no woman +could desire a bolder or more ardent +lover than he had developed into, infected, +no doubt, by the American atmosphere. +Sometimes, too, we caught +shy, wistful glances at the Jook from Kitty's +eyes, hastily averted with an almost +guilty look if he turned toward her.</p> + +<p>"What can it mean, Königin?" I said. +"She looks as if she wanted to confess +some sin, and was afraid to."</p> + +<p>"Some childish peccadillo," said Königin. +"In spite of all her woman-of-the-world-ishness +the child has a morbidly +sensitive conscience, and is troubled +about some nonsense that nobody else +would think of twice."</p> + +<p>"Can it be that she has only been flirting, +and is frightened to find how desperately +in earnest he is?"</p> + +<p>"Possibly," replied Königin. "But I +fancy that she is too well used to that +phase of affairs to let it worry her. Wait +a while and we shall see."</p> + +<p>We couldn't make anything of it, but +even the Jook became worried at last by +Kitty's queer behavior, and I suppose he +thought he had better settle the matter. +For one evening, when I was keeping +my room with a headache, I was awakened +from a light sleep by a sound of voices +on the piazza outside of my window. It +was some time before I was sufficiently +wide awake to realize that the speakers +were Kitty and the Jook, and when I did +I was in a dilemma. To let them know +that I was there would be to overwhelm +them both with confusion and interrupt +their conversation at a most interesting +point, for the Jook had evidently just +made his declaration. It was impossible +for me to leave the room, for I was by +no means in a costume to make my appearance +in the public halls. On the +whole, I concluded that the best thing I +could do would be to keep still and never, +by word or look, to let either of them +know of my most involuntary eavesdropping.</p> + +<p>Kitty was speaking when I heard them +first, talking in a broken, hesitating voice, +which was very queer from our bright, +fluent little Kitty: "Mr. Warriner, you +don't know what a humbug you make +me feel when you talk of 'my innocence' +and 'unconsciousness' and 'lack of vanity,' +and all the rest of it. I have been +feeling more and more what a vain, deceitful, +hypocritical little wretch I am +ever since I knew you. I have been expecting +you to find me out every day, +and I almost hoped you would."</p> + +<p>"What <i>do</i> you mean, Miss Grey?" +asked the Jook in tones of utter amazement, +as well he might.</p> + +<p>"Oh dear! how shall I tell you?" +sighed poor Kitty; and I could <i>feel</i> her +blushes burning through her words. +Then, with a sudden rush: "Can't you +see? I feel as if I had <i>stolen</i> your love, +for it was all gained under false pretences. +You never would have cared +for me if you had known what a miserable +hypocrite I really was. Why, that +very first day I wasn't afraid of the cow—she +didn't even look at me—but I saw +you coming, and—and—Helen wouldn't +introduce you to me—and it just struck +me it would be a good chance, and so I +rushed up to you and—Oh! what will +you think of me?"</p> + +<p>"Think?" said the Jook: "why, I think +<a name="Page_500" id="Page_500"><span class="pagenum">Page 500</span></a>that while ninety-nine women out of a +hundred are hypocrites, not one in a +thousand has the courage to atone for +it by an avowal like yours. Not that it +was exactly hypocrisy, either."</p> + +<p>The poor blundering Jook! Always +saying the most maddening things under +the firm conviction that it was the +most delicate compliment.</p> + +<p>Kitty was too much in earnest to mind +it now, though. "Do you know," she +went on, "that from the very first day +I came into the house I was determined +to captivate you?—that every word and +every look was directed to that end? I +have been nothing but an actress all +through. I have done it before, hundreds +and hundreds of times, but I never +felt the shame of it until now—because—because—"</p> + +<p>"Because you never loved any one before? +Is that it, Kitty?" said the Jook +tenderly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I don't know," said Kitty desperately. +"How can I tell? But it's all +Helen's fault. If she had introduced +you to me in a rational way, I should +never have gone on so. But she wouldn't, +and I was piqued—"</p> + +<p>"I must exonerate Miss Helen," interrupted +the Jook. "She wanted to introduce +me, and I declined. I am sure +I don't know why—English reserve, I +suppose. I had not seen you then, you +know, and some of the people here are +such a queer lot that I rather dreaded +new acquaintances."</p> + +<p>"Not Helen's fault?" wailed Kitty. +"Oh, this is stolen—oh, poor Helen!"</p> + +<p>Naturally, the Jook was utterly bewildered, +but as for me I sprang up into a +sitting posture, for the meaning of Kitty's +behavior had just flashed upon me. +Absolutely, the poor little goose thought +that in accepting the Jook, as she was +evidently dying to do, she would be robbing +me of my lover. And she never +guessed at my own little romance, tucked +away safely in the most secret corner +of my heart, which put any man save +one quite out of the question for me. If +I had stopped to think, I suppose I should +not have done what I did, but in my surprise +the words came out before I thought: +"Good gracious, Kitty my dear! do take +the Jook if you want him! <i>I</i> don't."</p> + +<p>I could not help laughing when I realized +what I had done. A little shriek from +Kitty and a <i>very</i> British exclamation from +the Jook, a slight scuffle of chairs and a +sense, rather than sound, of confusion, +announced the effect of my words.</p> + +<p>I waited for their reply, but dead silence +prevailed, so I was obliged to +speak again. "You needn't be alarmed," +I said, peering cautiously through +the chinks in the blinds, for I had approached +the window by this time. "I +didn't mean to listen, but I couldn't get +out of the way, and I never intended to +let you or any one else know that I had +heard your conversation. I'm awfully +sorry that I have disturbed you, but, as +I am in for it now, I might as well go +on."</p> + +<p>There I stopped, for I didn't exactly +know what to say, and I hoped that one +of them would "give me a lead." I could +just catch a glimpse of their faces in the +moonlight. The Jook was staring straight +at the window-shutter behind which I +lurked, and the wrath and disgust expressed +in his handsome features set me +off into a silent chuckle. I was sorry for +Kitty, though. Her face drooped as if it +were weighed down by its own blushes, +and the long lashes quivered upon the +hot cheeks.</p> + +<p>"Ah, really, Miss Helen," spoke the +Jook at last, "this is a most unexpected +pleasure. Ah, really, you know, I +mean—"</p> + +<p>It was not very lucid, but it was all I +needed, and I replied suavely, "Oh yes, +I understand. You never asked me, and +never had the faintest idea of doing so. +Otherwise, we should not have been such +good friends. All I want is to enforce +the fact on Kitty's mind.—And now, +Kitty, my dear, if you are quite satisfied +on this point, I will dress and go down +stairs.—Don't disturb yourselves, pray!" +for both of them showed signs of moving. +"You can finish your conversation to +much better advantage where you are, +and this little excitement has quite cured +my headache."</p> + +<p>I wonder how in the world they ever +<a name="Page_501" id="Page_501"><span class="pagenum">Page 501</span></a>took up the dropped stitches in that conversation? +They did it somehow, though, +for when they reappeared Kitty was the +prettiest possible picture of shy, blushing, +shamefaced happiness, while the Jook +was fairly beaming with pride and delight. +It was a case of true love at last: +there was no doubt about that—such +love as few would have believed that a +flighty little creature like Kitty was capable +of feeling. It was wonderful to +see how quickly all her little wiles and +coquetries fell off under its influence, +just as the rosy, fluttering leaves of the +spring fall off when the fruit pushes its +way. I don't believe it had ever struck +her before that there was anything degrading +in this playing fast and loose +with men's hearts which had been her +favorite pastime, or in beguiling them by +feigning a passion of which she had never +felt one thrill. It was not until Love +the magician had touched her heart that +the honest and loyal little Kitty that +lay at the bottom of all her whims and +follies was developed. The very sense +of unworthiness which she felt in view +of the Jook's straightforward and manly +ardor was the surest guarantee for the +perfection of her cure.</p> + +<p>A truce to moralizing. Kitty does not +need it, nor the Jook either. If he is not +proud of the bright little American bride +he is to take back with him to the "tight +little isle" of our forefathers, why, appearances +are "deceitful above all things, +and desperately wicked."</p> + +<p class="author">Henrietta H. Holdich.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Communism_In_The_United_States" id="Communism_In_The_United_States"></a>Communism In The United States.</h2> + + +<p>Nowhere in the history of the +world have we any example of +successful communism. The ancient Cretan +and Lacedemonian experiments, the +efforts of the Essenes and early Christians, +the modified communities of St. +Anthony and several orders of monks, +the schemes of the Anabaptists of the +sixteenth century, together with all the +experiments of modern times, have proved +essential failures. Setting out with ideas +of perfection in the social state, and undertaking +nothing less than the entire +abolition of the miseries of the world, the +communists of all times have lived in a +condition the least ideal that can be imagined. +The usual course of socialistic +communities has been to start out with a +great flourish, to quarrel and divide after +a few months, and then to decrease and +degenerate until a final dispersion by general +consent ended the attempt. During +the short existence of nearly all such +communities the members have lived in +want of the ordinary comforts of life, in +dispute about their respective rights and +duties, at law with retiring members, and +battling with the wilds and malarias +of the countries in which alone anything +like practical communism has been +usually possible. The most successful +(so far as any of these attempts can be +called successful) have been those communities +which have been founded on a +religion and which have consisted entirely +of members of one faith. But all political +communism has utterly failed, and +the name is little more than a synonym +for the most egregious blunders, excesses +and crimes of which visionary and unpractical +people can be guilty.</p> + +<p>The United States seem ill suited for +the spread of communistic ideas, notwithstanding +they contain almost the +only socialistic communities to be found +anywhere. Though the people are free +to live in common if they desire, and although +land and every facility are offered +on easy terms for the realization of communism—which +is not the case in Europe +(and which is, therefore, the reason why +the New World is chosen for communistic +<a name="Page_502" id="Page_502"><span class="pagenum">Page 502</span></a>experiments)—yet there is felt no need of +communism here. There are neither the +political nor the social inducements for it +which exist in Europe, and all efforts to +excite an enthusiasm on the subject have +invariably failed. Almost the only agitators +are foreigners, and nearly all the +existing communities are composed of +foreigners. Of these, two only are political, +the Icarian and the Cedar Vale, +while the rest are religious.</p> + +<p>The Icarian Community in Adams +county, Iowa, about two miles from +Corning, a station on the Burlington +and Missouri River Railroad, is the result +of an effort to realize the communistic +theory of M. Cabet, a French writer +and politician of some note. It is perhaps +the most just and practical of all +communistic systems; for the reader will +remember that social systems are as numerous +in France as religious systems +are in this country, and take much the +same place in the passions and bigotries +of the people of France, where there is +but one religion, as our various sects do +here, where there are so many. The +system of M. Cabet differs from the +others in much the same manner as +our religious sects differ from one another; +which is not of much importance +to the outside world, as they all contain +the one principle of a community of +goods. M. Cabet first promulgated his +system in the shape of a romance entitled +<i>A Voyage to Icaria</i>, in which he +represented the community at work under +the most favorable circumstances +and in a high degree of prosperity. According +to his system, all goods are to be +held in common, and all the people are +to have an equal voice in the disposal of +them. Each is to contribute of labor and +capital all that he can for the common +good, and to get all that he needs from the +common fund. "From each according +to his ability—to each according to his +wants," is the formula of principles. The +practical working of the community will +further illustrate the system.</p> + +<p>In 1848, M. Cabet, with some three +thousand of his followers, sailed from +France for New Orleans, intending to +take up land in Texas or Arkansas on +which to establish a community, having +the promise that he would soon be followed +by ten thousand more of his disciples. +After spending several months +in reconnoitring, during which half of +his followers got discontented and left +him, he settled with about fifteen hundred +at Nauvoo, Illinois, where they +bought out the property of the Mormons, +who had recently been driven +from that place. There they commenced +operations, establishing a saw- and grist-mill, +and carrying on farming and several +branches of domestic manufacturing. +In a little while they sent out a branch +colony to Icaria, in Adams county, Iowa, +where they purchased, or entered under +the Homestead Act, four thousand acres +of land. In this place likewise they built +a mill and went to farming and carrying +on the more simple trades. In a little +while, however, a quarrel arose in the +principal community at Nauvoo in regard +to the use and abuse of power, +when, after a rage of passion not unlike +that which they had exhibited in the +Revolution of 1848 in France, M. Cabet, +with a large minority, seceded and went +to St. Louis, where they expected to form +another and more perfect community. +They never formed this community, +however, and were soon dispersed. The +community at Nauvoo, being now harassed +with debts and with lawsuits growing +out of the withdrawal of M. Cabet +and his party, repaired to their branch +colony at Icaria, where they have been +ever since. Here they had likewise frequent +disputes and withdrawals, often +giving rise to lawsuits and a loss of property, +until in 1866, when the writer first +visited them, they were reduced to thirty-five +members. Since that time they +have picked up a few members, mostly +old companions who had left them for +individual life, until now they have about +sixty in all. They own at present about +two thousand acres of land, of which +three hundred and fifty are under cultivation. +They have good stock, consisting +of about one hundred and twenty +head of cattle, five hundred sheep, two +hundred and fifty hogs and thirty horses. +They still have their saw- and grist-mill, +<a name="Page_503" id="Page_503"><span class="pagenum">Page 503</span></a>now run by steam, but give most of their +time to farming. They preserve the family +relation, and observe the strictest +rules of chastity. Each family lives in a +separate house, but they all eat at a common +table. By an economic division of +labor one man cooks for all these persons, +another bakes, another attends to +the dairy, another makes the shoes, another +the clothes; and in general one +man manages some special work for the +whole. No one has any money or need +of any. All purchases are made from +the common purse, and each gets what +he needs. The government is a pure +democracy. The officers are chosen once +a year by universal (male) suffrage, and +consist of a president, secretary (and +treasurer), director of agriculture and +director of industry. They have no religion, +but, like most of the European +communists, are free-thinkers. They +are highly moral, however, and much +esteemed by their neighbors. Some of +them are quite learned, and all of them +may be pronounced decidedly heroic for +the terrible privations they have undergone +in order to realize their political +principles, to which they are as strongly +and sincerely devoted as any Christian +to his religion.</p> + +<p>Such is a sketch of the most perfect +system and most successful experiment +of political communism in the United +States—not very encouraging, it will be +confessed. The other example of political +communism is the Cedar Vale Community +in Howard county, Kansas, which +needs only to be mentioned here, as it +has as yet no history. It was commenced +in 1871, and is composed of Russian +materialists and American spiritualists. +They have a community of goods like +the Icarians, and in general their principles +are the same. They had only +about a dozen members at last accounts. +Another and similar community was established +in 1874 in Chesterfield county, +Virginia, called the "Social Freedom +Community," its principles being enunciated +as a "unity of interest and political, +religious and social freedom;" but +we cannot discover whether it is yet in +existence, as at last accounts it had only +two full members and eight probationers. +It will be seen from these examples +that the prospects of political communism +are far from promising. Its principal +power has always been as a sentiment, +and it can be dreaded only as an +appeal to the destitute and lawless to rise +in acts of violence. It has been powerful +in France in revolutions, riots and mobs, +and in this country in aiding the late strikers +in their work of destruction.</p> + +<p>The other existing communities are +founded on some religious basis, being +efforts on the part of their founders to +secure their religious rights or to live +with those of the same faith in closer +relations. And although their measures +have been similar in many respects to +those of the political communists, they +have resorted to them not on account +of any political principles, but because +they believed them to be commanded +by Scripture or to grow out of some +peculiarity of religious faith or duty. +Most of them have been formed after +the model of the society of the apostles, +who had their goods in common, +and because of their example. None, +so far as we know, have ever proposed +to establish communities by force or to +have the whole people embraced in +them. Held together by their peculiar +religious principles, they have been far +more successful (especially when under +some shrewd leader whom they believed +to have a spiritual authority) than when +actuated purely by reason.</p> + +<p>Perhaps the most successful of these +religious communities is that of the +"True Inspirationists," known as the +Amana Community, in Iowa, seventy-eight +miles west of Iowa City, on the +Chicago, Rock Island and Pacific Railroad. +These are all Germans, who came +to this country in 1842, and settled at +first near Buffalo, New York, on a tract +of land called Ebenezer, from which they +are sometimes known as "Ebenezers." +This tract comprised five thousand acres +of land, including what is now a part of +the city of Buffalo. In 1855 they moved +to their present locality in Iowa. They +pretend to be under direct inspiration, +receiving from God the model and general +<a name="Page_504" id="Page_504"><span class="pagenum">Page 504</span></a>orders for the direction of their community. +The present head, both spiritual +and temporal, is a woman, a sort +of sibyl who negotiates the inspirations. +Their business affairs are managed by +thirteen trustees, chosen annually by the +male members, who also choose the president. +They are very religious, though +having but little outward form. There +are fourteen hundred and fifty members, +who live in seven different towns or villages, +which are all known by the name +of Amana—East Amana, West Amana, +etc. They have their property for the +most part in common. Each family has +a house, to which food is daily distributed. +The work is done by a prudent division +of labor, as in the Icarian community. +But instead of providing clothing +and incidentals, the community makes to +each person an allowance for this purpose—to +the men of from forty to one +hundred dollars a year, to the women +from twenty-five to thirty dollars, and +to the children from five to ten dollars. +There are public stores in the community +at which the members can get all +they need besides food, and at which +also strangers can deal. They dress very +plainly, use simple food, and are quite industrious. +They aim to keep the men and +women apart as much as possible. They +sit apart at the tables and in church, and +when divine service is dismissed the men +remain in their ranks until the women +get out of church and nearly home. In +their games and amusements they keep +apart, as well as in all combinations +whether for business or pleasure. The +boys play with boys and the girls with +girls. They marry at twenty-four. They +own at present twenty-five thousand +acres of land, a considerable part of +which is under cultivation. They have, +in round numbers, three thousand sheep, +fifteen hundred head of cattle, two hundred +horses and twenty-five hundred +hogs. Besides farming, they carry on +two woollen-mills, four saw-mills, two +grist-mills and a tannery. They are almost +entirely self-supporting in the arts, +working up their own products and living +off the result. In medicine they are +homœopathists.</p> + +<p>The "Rappists" or Harmony Society +at Economy, Pennsylvania, is composed +of about one hundred members, being +all that remain of a colony of six hundred +who came from Germany in 1803. +They were called Separatists or "Come-outers" +in their own country, and much +persecuted on account of their nonconformity +with the established Church. +They landed in Baltimore, and some of +them who never found their way into +the community, or who subsequently +withdrew, settled in Maryland and Pennsylvania, +where they are still known as +a religious sect. Those who remained +together purchased five thousand acres +of land north of Pittsburg, in the valley +of the Conoquenessing. In 1814 they +moved to Posey county, Indiana, in the +Wabash Valley, where they purchased +thirty thousand acres of land, and in +1824 they moved back again to their +present locality in Pennsylvania. In 1831 +a dissension arose among them, and a division +was effected by one Bernard Mueller—or +"Count Maximilian" as he called +himself—who went off with one-third of +the members and a large share of the +property, and founded a new community +at Phillips, ten miles off, on eight hundred +acres of land, which, however, soon +disbanded on account of internal quarrels.</p> + +<p>The peculiarity of this community is +that there is no intercourse between the +sexes of any kind. In 1807 they gave up +marriage. The husbands parted from +their wives, and have henceforth lived +with them only as sisters. They claim +to have authority for this in the words +of the apostle: "This I say, brethren, the +time is short; it remaineth that both they +that have wives be as though they had +none," etc. They teach that Adam in +his perfect state was bi-sexual and had +no need of a female, being in this respect +like God; that subsequently, when he +fell, the female part (rib, etc.) was separated +from him and made into another +person, and that when they become perfect +through their religion the bi-sexual +nature of the soul is restored. Christ, +they claim, was also of this dual nature, +and therefore never married. They believe +that the world will soon come to an +<a name="Page_505" id="Page_505"><span class="pagenum">Page 505</span></a>end, and that it is their duty to help it +along by having no children, and so +putting an end to the race as well as the planet.</p> + +<p>Their property is all held in common +and managed by a council of seven, from +whom the trustees are chosen. From +four to eight live in each house, men +and women together, who regard each +other as of the same sex, and are never +watched. Each household cooks for itself, +although there is a general bakery, +from which bread is taken around to the +houses as they have need. The members +are fond of music and flowers, but +they discard dancing. Though Germans, +they have ceased to use tobacco; which +loss, it is said, the men feel more heavily +than that of the wives. They make considerable +wine and beer, which they drink +in moderation. They are said to be worth +from two millions to three millions of dollars, +and speculate in mines, oil-wells, +saw-mills, etc., doing very little hard +work, and hiring laborers from without +to take their places in all drudgery. +They are engaged principally in farming +and the common trades, and supply +nearly everything for themselves. They +are nearly all aged, none of them being +under forty except some adopted children. +All are Germans and use the +German language.</p> + +<p>The Shakers are the oldest society of +communists in the United States. The +parent society at Mount Lebanon, New +York, was established in 1792, being the +outgrowth of a religious revival in which +there were violent hysterical manifestations +or "shakes," from which they took +their name. In this revival one Ann Lee, +known among them as "Mother Ann," +was prominent. This woman, of English +birth, emigrated to Niskayuna, New +York, about seven miles north-west of +Albany, where she pretended to speak +from inspiration and work miracles, so +that the people soon came to regard her +as being another revelation of Christ and +as having his authority. Being persecuted +by the outside world, her followers, +after her death, formed a community in +which to live and enjoy their religion +alone and: undisturbed. Their principles +may be summed up as special +revelation, spiritualism, celibacy, oral +confession, community, non-resistance, +peace, the gift of healing, miracles, physical +health and separation from the world. +Like the Rappists, they neither marry +nor have any substitute for marriage, receiving +all their children by adoption. +They live in large families or communes, +consisting of eighty or ninety members, +in one big house, men and women together. +Each brother is assigned to a +sister, who mends his clothes, looks after +his washing, tells him when he needs a +new garment, reproves him when not +orderly, and has a spiritual oversight +over him generally. Though living in +the same house, the sexes eat, labor and +work apart. They keep apart and in +separate ranks in their worship. They +do not shake hands with the opposite +sex, and there is rarely any scandal or +gossip among them, so far as the outside +world can learn. There are two orders, +known as the Novitiate and the Church +order, the latter having intercourse only +with their own members in a sort of +monkish seclusion, while the others treat +with the outside world. The head of a +Shaker society is a "ministry," consisting +of from three to four persons, male +and female. The society is divided into +families, as stated above, each family +having two elders, one male and one +female. In their worship they are drawn +up in ranks and go through various gyrations, +consisting of processions and +dances, during which they continually +hold out their hands as if to receive +something. The Shakers are industrious, +hard-working, economical and cleanly. +They dress uniformly. Their houses are +all alike. They say "yea" and "nay," +although not "thee" and "thou," and +call persons by their first names. They +confine themselves chiefly to the useful, +and use no ornaments. There are at +present eighteen societies of Shakers in +the United States, scattered throughout +seven States. They number in all two +thousand four hundred and fifteen persons, +and own one hundred thousand +acres of land. Their industries are similar +to those of the Rappists and True +<a name="Page_506" id="Page_506"><span class="pagenum">Page 506</span></a>Inspirationists, and are somewhat famed +for the excellence of their products. The +Shakers are nearly all Americans, like +the Oneidans, next mentioned, and unlike +all other communistic societies in +the United States.</p> + +<p>The Perfectionists of Oneida and Wallingford +are perhaps the most singular +of all communists. They were founded +by John Humphrey Noyes, who organized +a community at Putney, Vermont, +in 1846. In 1848 this was consolidated +with others at Oneida in Madison county, +New York. In 1849 a branch community +was started at Brooklyn, New +York, and in 1850 one at Wallingford, +Connecticut, all of which have since +broken up or been merged in the two +communities of Oneida and Wallingford. +Their principles are perfectionism, +communism and free love. By +"perfection" they mean freedom from +sin, which they all claim to have, or to +seek as practically attainable. They +claim, in explaining their sense of this +term, that as a man who does not drink +is free from intemperance, and one who +does not swear is free from profanity, so +one who does not sin at all is free from +sin, or morally perfect. Their communism +is like that of the Icarians, so far as +property is concerned, this being owned +equally by all for the benefit of all as +they severally have need; which state +they claim is the state of man after the +resurrection. But they have a community +not only of goods, but also of wives; +or, rather, they have no wives at all, but +all women belong to all men, and all +men to all women; which they assert to +be the state of Nature, and therefore the +most perfect state. They call it complex +marriage instead of simple, and it is both +polygamy and polyandry at the same +time. They are enemies of all exclusiveness +or selfishness, and hold that +there should be no exclusiveness in +money or in women or children. Their +idea is to be in the most literal sense no +respecters of persons. All women and +children are the same to all men, and +<i>vice versâ</i>. A man never knows his +own children, and the mothers, instead +of raising their children themselves, give +them over to a common nursery, somewhat +after the suggestion of Plato in his +<i>Republic</i>. If any two persons are suspected +of forming special attachments, +and so of violating the principle of equal +and universal love, or of using their sexual +freedom too liberally, they are put +under discipline. They are very religious, +their religion, however, consisting +only in keeping free from sin. They +have no sermons, ceremonies, sacraments +or religious manifestations whatever. +There are no public prayers, and +no loud prayers at all. Their method +of discipline is called "criticism," and +consists in bringing the offender into the +presence of a committee of men and +women, who each pass their criticisms +on him and allow him to confess or +criticise himself. The least sign of +worldliness or evidence of impropriety +is enough to subject one to this ordeal. +They are very careful about whom they +admit to their community, as there are +numerous rakes and idlers who make +application on the supposition that it is +a harem or Turkish paradise. None are +admitted who are not imbued with their +doctrine of perfection, and who do not +show evidences of it in their lives. In a +business point of view, they are comparatively +successful, the original members +having contributed over one hundred +thousand dollars' worth of property, +which has not depreciated. They engage +in farming, wine-raising and various +industries, and are known in the +general markets for their products.</p> + +<p>The Separatists at Zoar, Ohio, about +halfway between Cleveland and Pittsburg, +are a body of Germans who fled +from Würtemberg in 1817 to escape religious +persecution. They are mystics, +followers of Jacob Böhm, Gerhard, Terstegen, +Jung Stilling and others of that +class, and considerably above the average +of communists in intellect and culture. +They were aided to emigrate to this country +by some English Quakers, with whom +there is a resemblance in some of their +tenets. They purchased fifty-six hundred +acres of land in Ohio, but did not at first +intend to form a community, having +been driven to that resort subsequently +<a name="Page_507" id="Page_507"><span class="pagenum">Page 507</span></a>in order to the better realization of their +religious principles. They now own over +seven thousand acres of land in Ohio, +besides some in Iowa. They have a +woollen-factory, two flour-mills, a saw-mill, +a planing-mill, a machine-shop, a +tannery and a dye-house; also a hotel +and store for the accommodation of their +neighbors. They are industrious, simple +in their dress and food, and very economical. +They use neither tobacco nor pork, +and are homœopathists in medicine. In +religion they are orthodox, with the usual +latitude of mystics. They have no ceremonies, +say "thou" and "thee," take off +their hats and bow to nobody except God, +refuse to fight or go to law, and settle +their disputes by arbitration. At first +they prohibited marriage and had their +women in common, like the Perfectionists. +In 1828, however, they commenced +to break their rules and take wives. +Now they observe the marriage state. +Their officers are elected by the whole +society, the women voting as well as the men.</p> + +<p>The Bethel and Aurora communities—the +former in Shelby county, Missouri, +forty-eight miles from Hannibal, and the +latter in Oregon, twenty-nine miles south +of Portland, on the Oregon and California +Railroad—were founded in 1848 by +Dr. Kiel, a Prussian mystic, who practised +medicine a while in New York and +Pittsburg, and subsequently formed a religious +sect of which these communists +are members. He was subsequently +joined by some of "Count Maximilian's" +people, who had left Rapp's colony +at Economy, which this closely resembles +except as to celibacy. He +first founded the colony in Missouri, +where he took up two thousand five +hundred and sixty acres of land, and +established the usual trades needed by +farmers. In 1847 there were the inevitable +quarrel and division. In 1855 he set +out to establish a similar community on +the Pacific coast. The first settlement +was made at Shoalwater Bay, Washington +Territory, which was, however, subsequently +abandoned for the present one +at Aurora. There are now about four +hundred members at Aurora, who own +eighteen thousand acres of land, and +have the usual shops and occupations of +communists mentioned above, carrying +on a considerable trade with their neighbors. +The members of both communities +are all either Germans or Pennsylvania +Dutch, and thrive by the industry +and economy peculiar to those people. +Their government is parental, intended +to be like God's. Kiel is the temporal +and spiritual head. Their religion consists +in practical benevolence, the forms +of worship being Lutheran. They are +thought to be exceedingly wealthy, but +if their property were divided among +them there would be less than three +thousand dollars to each family, which, +though more than the property of most +other communities would average, is but +small savings for twenty years. They +preserve the usual family relations.</p> + +<p>The Bishop Hill Community, in Henry +county, Illinois, was formed by a party +of Swedes who came to this country in +1846 under Eric Janson, who had been +their religious leader in the Old World, +where they were greatly persecuted on +account of their peculiar religious views. +They suffered great hardships in effecting +a first settlement, some of them going +off, in the interest of the community, +to dig gold in California, and others taking +to stock-raising and speculating. In +this they were quite successful, so that +jobs and speculations became the peculiar +work of this community. They took +various public and private contracts; +among others, one to grade a large portion +of the Chicago, Burlington and +Quincy Railroad and to build some of its +bridges. In 1859 they owned ten thousand +acres of good land, and had the +finest cattle in the State. In 1859, however, +the young people became discontented +and wished to dissolve the community. +They divided the property in +1860, when one faction continued the +community with its share. In 1861 this +party also broke up, separating into three +divisions. In 1862 these again divided +the property after numerous lawsuits. +A small fraction, I believe, still continues +a community on the ruins. In this community +the families lived separately, but +<a name="Page_508" id="Page_508"><span class="pagenum">Page 508</span></a>ate all together. They had no president +or single head, the business being transacted +by a board of trustees. Their religion +was their principal concern.</p> + +<p>Such are the strictly communistic societies +in the United States. It will be +seen that they are each of such very +peculiar views that they are specially fitted +by their very oddity for a life in common, +and specially disqualified from the +same cause to extend or embrace others; +for while their community of oddity +makes them, by a necessarily strong +sympathy, fit associates to be together, +it separates them by an impassable gulf +from the appreciation and sympathy of +the rest of mankind, who are interested +only in the ordinary common-sense concerns +of life.</p> + +<p>Besides these, there are several other +colonies which, though not communistic, +have grown out of an attempt to solve +some of the questions raised by socialism. +They are for the most part co-operative. +The following are the principal: +The Anaheim colony in California, thirty-six +miles from Los Angelos, which was +formed by a large number of Germans +in 1857, who banded together and purchased +a large tract of land, on which +they successfully cultivate the vine in +large quantities. The property is held +and worked all together, but the interests +are separate, and will be divided in +due time. Vineland, New Jersey, on the +railroad between Philadelphia and Cape +May, is another. It was purchased and +laid out by Charles K. Landis in 1861 as +a private speculation, and to draw the +overcrowded population of Philadelphia +into the country, where the people could +all have comfortable homes and support +themselves by their own labor. Some +fifty thousand acres of land were purchased, +and sold at a low rate and on long +time to actual settlers and improvers. As +a result, some twelve thousand people +have been drawn thither, who cultivate +all this tract and work numerous industries +besides. No liquors are allowed to +be sold in the place, so that the population +is exceptionally moral as well as industrious, +and offers a model example of +low rates and good government. A successful +colony exists also at Prairie Home +in Franklin county, Kansas, which was +founded by a Frenchman, Monsieur E.V. +Boissière. It is designed to be an +association and co-operation based on +attractive industry; a large number of +persons contributing their capital and +labor under stringent laws, the proceeds +to be divided among them whenever a +majority shall so desire. I might mention +other associations of this kind, which +are, in fact, however, only a variety of +partnership or corporation.</p> + +<p>It strikes me, however, that this is the +only practical remedy for the evils which +are aimed at by the communists, as far +as they are remedial by social means. +If a number of working people, with the +capital which their small savings will +amount to (which is always large enough +for any ordinary business if there be any +considerable number of them), can be induced +to organize themselves under competent +leaders, and work for a few years +together as faithfully as they ordinarily do +for employers, they might realize considerable +results, and get the advantage of +their own work instead of enriching capitalists. +But the difficulty is, that this +class have not, as a rule, learned either +to manage great enterprises or to submit +to those who are wisest among them, +but break up in disorder and divisions +when their individual preferences are +crossed. The first lesson that a man +must learn who proposes to do anything +in common with others (and the more so +if there be many of them) is to submit +and forbear. With a little schooling our +people ought, to a greater extent than at +present, to be able to co-operate in large +numbers in firms and corporations where +the members and stockholders shall +themselves do all the work and receive +all the profits, and so avoid the two extremes +of making profits for capitalists +and paying their earnings to officers and +directors.</p> + +<p class="author">Austin Bierbower.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><a name="Page_509" id="Page_509"><span class="pagenum">Page 509</span></a></p> +<h2><a name="Our_Monthly_Gossip" id="Our_Monthly_Gossip"></a>Our Monthly Gossip.</h2> + + +<h3><a name="Notes_From_Moscow" id="Notes_From_Moscow"></a>Notes From Moscow.</h3> + +<p><span class="smcap">June</span> 1 (May 20, Russian style), 1877.</p> + +<p>This diversity in the matter of dates +is unpleasantly perplexing at times. +With every sensation of interest and pleasure +I set myself about the task of describing, +I must at once begin to reckon. +Twelve days' difference! Yes, I +have already grasped that fact, but then +in which direction must the deduction +begin?—backward or forward? Such +is the question that instantly arises, and +if we are at the fag end of one month and +the beginning of another, the amount of +reckoning involved seems somewhat inadequate +to the occasion. The Russian +clergy, it is said—those, at any rate, of +the lowest class, designated as "white +priests," many of them peasants by birth +and marvellously illiterate—have ever +been averse to any change being made +in the calendar, in order that their seasons +of fasting and feasting may not be +disturbed.</p> + +<p><i>Apropos</i> of priests and priesthood. +Whilst quietly at work yesterday morning +my attention was suddenly called +off, first by a hurried exclamation, and +then the inharmonious—ah, how utterly +discordant!—ding-donging of church-bells. +"Listen!" fell upon my ear: "one +of the secular priests belonging to St. +Gregory's church died two days ago, and +is to be buried this morning. They are +still saying masses over his body, the +church is packed, and it is a sight such +as you may possibly not have an opportunity +of again witnessing." In half an +hour we were within the church-walls. +The place was already thronged, and the +air close almost to suffocation. Never +can one forget that peculiar heat, the sort +of indescribable vapor, that arose, and +the perspiration that streamed down the +faces of all present, each of whom, from +the oldest to the youngest, carried a lighted +candle. After many vigorous efforts, +and occasional collisions with the flaring +tapers, the wax or tallow dropping at intervals +upon our cloaks, we found ourselves +at last in the centre of the edifice, +immediately behind a dozen or more officiating +priests clad in magnificent robes, +before whom lay their late confrère reposing +in his coffin, and dressed, according to +custom, in his ecclesiastical robes. Tall +lighted candles draped with crape surrounded +him, and the solemn chant had +been going on around him ever since life +had become extinct. The dead in Russia +are never left alone or in the dark. Relays +of singing priests take the places of +those who are weary, and friends keep +watch in an adjoining room. The Russian +temperament inclines to the strongest +manifestation of the inmost feelings, +and the method here of mourning for the +dead is exceptionally demonstrative. The +corpse of the old priest lay surrounded by +what was of bright colors or purest white, +the coffin being of the last-mentioned hue. +Black was utterly proscribed. The face +and hands were half buried in a lacy +texture, whilst on the brow was placed a +label, "fillet-fashion," on which was written +"The Thrice Holy," or <i>Trisagion</i>—"O +Holy God! O Holy Mighty! O Holy +Immortal! have mercy upon us!"</p> + +<p>Chant after chant ascended for the +repose of his soul. The deacon's deep +bass voice rose ever and anon in leading +fashion, the other voices following suit. +There was of course no instrumental +music. This Russian singing is curiously +unique—of a character wholly different +from any heard elsewhere. It is +weird in the extreme, and, if the expression +be permissible, gypsy-like. The +deacons' voices are of wonderful capability, +the popular belief being that they +are specially chosen on account of this +peculiar power. At last there came a +pause. Not only the priests' and deacons' +voices, but those of the chanting +men and boys—alike unsurpliced and +uncassocked, lacking, therefore, much +of the attraction offered by a service in +the Western Catholic Church—had all +<a name="Page_510" id="Page_510"><span class="pagenum">Page 510</span></a>at once ceased to be heard. All were +now pressing forward to kiss the dead +priest—his fellow-priests first, and then, +duly in order, all his relations and friends. +"The last kiss" it is termed—a practice, +it would seem, derived from the heathen +custom, of which we find such frequent +mention. None, if possible, omit the +performance of this duty, all seeking to +obtain the blessing or benefit, supposed +to be thereby conferred. Some, however, +are obliged to content themselves +with merely kissing the corners of the +coffin.</p> + +<p>Many of the numerous <i>stichera</i>, as +they are termed—poetically-worded +prose effusions—made use of in the +course of the service are curiously +quaint. I quote two or three, of which +I have since procured a translation: +"Come, my brethren, let us give our +last kiss, our last farewell, to our deceased +brother. He hath now forsaken +his kindred and approacheth the grave, +no longer mindful of vanity or the cares +of the world. Where are now his kindred +and friends? Behold, we are now +separated! Approach! embrace him +who lately was one of yourselves."—"Where +now is the graceful form? +Where is youth? Where is the brightness +of the eye? where the beauty of the +complexion? Closed are the eyes, the +feet bound, the hands at rest: extinct is +the sense of hearing, and the tongue locked +up in silence."</p> + +<p>The words succeeding these are supposed +to emanate from the lips of the +dead, lying mute before the eyes of all +present: "Brethren, friends, kinsmen and +acquaintance, view me here lying speechless, +breathless, and lament. But yesterday +we conversed together. Come near, +all who are bound to me by affection, and +with a last embrace pronounce the last +farewell. No longer shall I sojourn +among you, no longer bear part in your +discourse. Pray earnestly that I be received +into the Light of life."</p> + +<p>The absolution having been pronounced +by the priest, a paper is placed +in the dead man's hand—"The Prayer, +Hope and Confession of a faithful Christian +soul." This is accompanied by another +prayer containing the written words +of absolution. This custom has given +rise to the belief in the minds of many +foreigners that such missives are presented +in the light of passports to a better +world; but the idea seems to be as +erroneous as it is absurd. Moreover, I +believe that, strictly speaking, the custom +is one of national origin, and that +the Church has had nothing to do with +its adoption.</p> + +<p>All the lighted tapers having been +taken away by one of the attendants, +the coffin with its gilded ornaments was +removed slowly from its resting-place, +and placed upon an enormous open bier +or hearse, extensively mounted and heavily +ornamented with white watered silk, +purple and gilt draperies, a gilt crown surmounting +all. The base of the ponderous +vehicle was alone permitted to boast +a fringe of deep black cloth—as if, however, +for the sole purpose of hiding the +wheels. The six horses, three abreast, +were also enveloped in black cloth drapery +touching the ground on either side. +Right and left of the coffin itself, and +mounted therefore considerably aloft, +stood two yellow <i>stoicharioned</i> (or robed) +deacons, wearing the <i>epimanikia</i> and +<i>orarion</i>—the former being a portion of +the priestly dress used for covering the +arms, and signifying the thongs with +which the hands of Christ were bound; +the latter a stole worn over the left +shoulder. The head of each deacon +was adorned with long waving hair, and +each carried a censer in his hand. They +faced each other, keeping watch together +over the dead. A procession of priests, +duly robed, began to move, preceded +by censer-bearers and singing men and +boys.</p> + +<p>The point whence the procession started—Mala +Greuzin, situated at the extreme +east end of Moscow—lay several +miles away from the cemetery for which +they were all <i>en route;</i> and this veritably +ancient Asiatic city had to be traversed +at an angle in this solemn fashion, +seventy or eighty carriages following. +From the beginning to the end of the +prescribed route Muscovites lined the +road on either side, and it is fair to add +<a name="Page_511" id="Page_511"><span class="pagenum">Page 511</span></a>that I never beheld more respect shown +even to royalty itself. All was quietness, +the general expression of sympathy and +respect being permitted to find vent only +in excessive gesticulation and genuflection. +Not a head remained covered, not +a single person by whom the procession +passed permitted it to do so without crossing +himself several times from forehead +to chest and from shoulder to shoulder.</p> + +<p>At the first church which the procession +reached, the bells of which had begun +to toll—clash rather—long before it +came in sight, the entire party halted. A +bell was rung by one of those in advance, +and then all waited. The priests and their +various acolytes clustered reverently by +the hearse, the followers and spectators +standing at a respectful distance, but +nevertheless taking part in the service. +After first incensing the hearse, themselves +and all around, further prayers +were said and chanted: then a signal +was given and all moved on again, only, +however, to again pause on the route, +for at every church we passed—and we +must have encountered at least thirty or +forty, if not more, seeing that such sacred +edifices rise upon one's view in Moscow +at wellnigh every three or four minutes' +space—the ceremony was repeated. No +sooner had one set of bells ceased to +sound in our ears than another took its +place, and again all halted, and then +again all marched onward. Every window +as the cortége passed along was +thrown open, and figures bent forward +ever and anon, enacting their wonted +part in the pageant. And the pageant, +be it remembered, was, after all, only +one of frequent occurrence.</p> + +<p>Only the week before I had had the privilege +of watching this identical old priest +baptize the child of one of the most ancient +nobles here, the ceremony being +performed not in a church, but at the +nobleman's house. One godfather and +one godmother are all that are required, +the latter of whom holds the infant. On +the godmother also a large share of duty +devolves, there being certain gifts which +she is bound by national custom to offer +for acceptance on the occasion. Often, +therefore, the duty of selecting a female +sponsor becomes a somewhat invidious +one. A handsome dress to the mother, +no matter in what rank of life; a delicate +lace cap to the main object of the occasion; +a lace chemise for the same highly-honored +small individual; and an elaborate +silk pocket handkerchief to the +officiating priest,—these, when of the +best quality, and they are invariably +so, mount up somewhat as regards +price, seeing that everything is marvellously +dear here in the matter of dress. +The godfather, standing immediately in +front of the large font brought specially +for the purpose from the adjacent church, +and at the right hand of his fellow-sponsor, +simply presents a small golden cross, +to be worn, it is supposed, ever afterward. +Immediately behind the font, +and facing the entire audience—for a +large circle of friends had been invited +to witness the ceremony—was placed the +"holy picture" of the household, without +which in Russia no homestead, whether +belonging to rich or poor, is considered +complete, and before which a lighted oil +lamp ever stands burning—a "picture of +God," as the Russian children are taught +from their earliest years to call it. Before +this the priests bowed on entering.</p> + +<p>The mode of baptism was immersion, +after several exorcisms had been read +and the priest had thrice blown in the +infant's face, signing him, also thrice, +on the forehead and breast. Three tall +lighted candles were affixed to the font, +and others were held by the god-parents, +except when they marched round the +font in procession three times during +"the chrism," when the candles were laid +down. The chrism consists in anointing +the infant's forehead, breast, shoulders +and middle of the back with holy +oil, after which comes the service, when +the forehead, eyes, nostrils, mouth, ears, +breast, hands and feet are again anointed, +but this time with the holy unction prepared +once a year, on Monday in Holy +Week, within the walls of the Kremlin, +and consecrated by the metropolitan in +the cathedral of the Annunciation on Holy +Thursday. Then comes the concluding +act, when the priest cuts off a small portion +of the child's hair in four different places +<a name="Page_512" id="Page_512"><span class="pagenum">Page 512</span></a>on the crown of the head, encloses it in a +morsel of wax and throws it into the font, +as a sort of first-fruits of that which has +been consecrated.</p> + +<p>S.E.</p> + + +<h3><a name="A_Day_At_The_Paris_Conservatoire" id="A_Day_At_The_Paris_Conservatoire"></a>A Day At The Paris Conservatoire.</h3> + +<p>It was ten o'clock in the morning when +we drove up to the door of the world-famous +institution, but, early as it was, +an animated throng already filled the +wide marble-paved entrance-hall—former +pupils in elegant attire; girl aspirants +for future honors, accompanied by +the inevitable mamma with the invariable +little hand-bag; young men and old; +celebrated dramatists and well-known +actors, visitors, critics, etc.—all passing +to and fro or engaged in conversation +while awaiting the hour for taking their +seats. Passing through these, we ascend +a narrow staircase that gives one good +hopes of a martyr's death should the +theatre chance to catch fire, and we instal +ourselves in a narrow and by no +means comfortable box in the dress-circle. +The theatre of the Conservatoire, +though not very large, is very elegantly +and artistically decorated in the Pompeian +style, the stage being set with a +single "box scene," as it is technically +called, which is never changed, as plays +are never acted there. Here take place +the far-famed concerts du Conservatoire, +for which tickets are as hard to obtain +as are invitations to the entertainments +of a duchess, all the seats being owned +by private individuals. But what we are +now here to witness is the competition in +dramatic declamation, tragic and comic. +The jury occupy a box in the centre +of the dress-circle and opposite to the +stage. This terrifying tribunal is enough +to try the nerves of the stoutest aspirant +for dramatic honors, comprising as it +does among its members such powers +in the land as Legouvé, Camilla-Doucet, +Alexandre Dumas, the directors of +the Comédie Française and the Odéon, +and the great actors Got and Delaunay. +An elderly gentleman comes forward +on the stage and reads from a printed +paper the name of each competitor and +those of his or her assistants, and that +of the play from which the scene that +is to be represented is chosen. Each +pupil selects a scene, and the persons +who in French technical parlance are +to "give the reply" (<i>i.e.</i> to take the +other characters in the scene) are chosen +from among the ranks of the pupil's +fellow-competitors. Lots are drawn to +decide the place that each one is to occupy +on the programme, the first place +and the last being considered the least +desirable. Printed bills are distributed +among the audience giving a list of +the competitors, with the names of the +plays from which they have chosen +scenes, and (horrible innovation for the +lady pupils!) the age of each one as +well.</p> + +<p>The competition is opened by M. Levanz, +a young man of thirty, who took a +second prize last year, and who has chosen +the closet-scene from <i>Hamlet</i> (the +translation of the elder Dumas) as his +<i>cheval de bataille</i>. He has a marked +Germanic countenance, decidedly the +reverse of handsome, yet mobile and +expressive: his voice is good, his figure +tall and manly. He has evidently seen +Rossi in Hamlet, and models his conception +of the character on that grand +impersonation. Next comes M. Bregaint +in a scene from <i>Andromaque:</i> he is so +bad, so <i>very</i> bad, that the audience are +moved to sudden outbursts of hilarity by +his grand tragic points. He is succeeded +by a boy of sixteen, tall and graceful, +with a fine tragic face of the heroic Kemble +mould, and great blue-gray eyes that +dilate or contract beneath the impulses +of the moment—a born actor from head +to foot. He fairly thrills the audience in +the great scene of the duke de Nemours +from <i>Louis XI</i>. This youth, M. Guitry, +is undoubtedly, if his life be spared, the +coming tragedian of the French stage. +Then we have the first one of the lady +competitors, Mademoiselle Edet, a tall, +awkward girl of eighteen, with a flat face +and Chinese-like features, dressed up in +a gown of cream-yellow foulard trimmed +with wide fringe and made with a loose +jacket, whereon the fringes wave wildly +in the air as she flings her arms around +in the tragic love-making of Phèdre. +Two or three others of moderate merit +<a name="Page_513" id="Page_513"><span class="pagenum">Page 513</span></a>succeed, and then comes Mademoiselle +Jullien, who gives the great scene of +Roxane in <i>Bajazet</i> with so much intelligence +of intonation and grace of gesture +that the audience are moved to sudden +applause. She is rather too short +and of too delicate a physique for tragedy, +but her face is expressive, her eyes +fine, and there are intellect and talent in +every tone and movement. She is nearly +twenty-nine years of age, so has not +much time to waste if she is to make +her mark in her profession. Last on the +list of tragic aspirants comes a gentleman +of thirty-one, M. Aubert, who goes +through a scene from <i>Hamlet</i> in a very +tolerable manner. He was in the army, +was doing well and was rising in grade +when, seized by the theatrical mania, he +relinquished his profession and turned +his attention to the stage. Thus far, he +has proved, practically speaking, a failure: +he has won no prizes, and no manager +will engage him. This is his last +chance, as his age will prevent him, by +the rules of the Conservatoire, from taking +part in any future competition.</p> + +<p>The tragedy concours ended, a recess +of an hour is proclaimed, and there is a +rush to the refreshment-tables and a +great consumption of sandwiches and +cakes, of coffee and water (known as +"mazagran") and of <i>vin ordinaire</i>. Under +that vestibule pass and repass the +literary luminaries of modern France. +Here is Henri de Bornier, the author +of <i>La Fille de Roland</i>, a quiet, earnest-looking +gentleman, with clear luminous +eyes and the smallest hands imaginable. +Here comes Francisque Sarcey, the +greatest dramatic critic of France and +one of the most noted of her Republican +journalists, broad-shouldered, black-eyed +and stalwart-looking. Yonder +stand a group of Academicians—Legouvé, +Doucet, Dumas—in earnest conversation +with Édouard Thierry, the +librarian of the Arsénal. The handsome, +delicate, aristocratic-looking gentleman +who joins the group is M. Perrin, +the director of the Comédie Française, +the most accomplished and intelligent +theatrical manager in France. +There is an elderly, reserved-looking +gentleman beside him who looks like +a solemn <i>savant</i> out on a holiday. It +takes more than one glance for us to +recognize in him the most accomplished +light comedian of our day, that embodiment +of grace, vivacity, sparkling wit +and unfading youth, who is known to +the boards of the Comédie Française by +the name of Delaunay. There are other +minor luminaries, too numerous to mention.</p> + +<p>We go up stairs and resume our seats, +and the competition of comedy is begun. +Scene succeeds to scene and competitor +to competitor: the day wears on, and +flitting clouds from time to time obscure +the dome, bringing out the glare of the +footlights that have been burning all day +in a singularly effective manner. Of the +nineteen competitors, the deepest impression +is made by M. Barral, who +plays a scene from <i>L'Avare</i> magnificently; +by Mademoiselle Carrière, who +reveals herself as a sparkling and intelligent +soubrette; and by Mademoiselle +Sisos, a genuine <i>comédienne</i>, only sixteen +years of age and as pretty as a +peach. It is six o'clock when the last +competitor has said his say, and then +the jury retire to deliberate respecting +the awards. What a flutter there must +be among the young things whose future +destiny is now swaying in the balance, +for success means fortune, and failure a +disheartening postponement, and to the +elder ones downright and disastrous ruin +of all their hopes! Half an hour passes, +and then, after what seems a weary period +of suspense, the box-door is thrown +open and the jury resume their seats. +Ambroise Thomas, the president of the +Conservatoire, strikes his bell and a dead +silence ensues. In a full sonorous voice +he begins: "Concours of tragedy, men's +class. No prizes.—Usher, summon M. +Guitry." The gifted boy comes forward +to the footlights. "M. Guitry, the jury +have awarded to you a <i>premier accessit</i>." +He bows and retires amid the hearty +applause of the audience. "Women's +class.—Usher, call Mademoiselle Jullien." +She comes out pale and agitated, +the slight form quivering like a wind-swept +flower in her robes of creamy cashmere. +<a name="Page_514" id="Page_514"><span class="pagenum">Page 514</span></a>Is it the Odéon that awaits her—the +second prize? for in her modesty she +had only hoped for a <i>premier accessit.</i> +"Mademoiselle Jullien, the jury have +awarded to you the first prize." The +first prize! Those words mean to her +an assured career, a brilliant future, the +doors of the Comédie Française flung +wide open to receive her. She falters, +trembles, bows profoundly, and goes off +in a very passion of hysterical weeping. +Then come the comedy awards. M. +Barral gets a first prize, as is his just +due, as does also Mademoiselle Carrière. +"Usher, call Mademoiselle Sisos." She +comes forward, her great brown eyes dilated +with excitement, her cheeks burning +like two red roses, a mass of faded +white roses clinging amid the rumpled +gold of her hair—a very bewitching +picture of childish grace and beauty. +"Mademoiselle Sisos, the jury have +awarded to you a second prize." She +laughs and blushes, and brings her +hands together with a childlike gesture +of delight. "Oh, merci!" she cries, and +drops a courtesy, and then away she goes—happy +little creature, thus consecrated +artiste at sixteen! The other awards are +given, the jury leave their box, and the +audience disperse. The friends of the +competitors crowd around the stage-door, +and each of the successful ones is seized +by the hand and congratulated and embraced, +the youthful Guitry being especially +surrounded. Two or three more +years of study will land this gifted boy +on the boards of the Comédie Française. +The queen of the day, Mademoiselle +Jullien, has stolen away overcome by +excess of emotion, which, though joyful, +is still exhausting to her delicate frame. +Finally, everybody retires, the doors are +closed, and the long, exciting <i>séance</i> has +come to an end at last.</p> + +<p>L.H.H.</p> + + +<h3><a name="Brigham_Young_And_Mormonism" id="Brigham_Young_And_Mormonism"></a>Brigham Young And Mormonism.</h3> + +<p>Brigham Young's career is a valuable +commentary on that of Mohammed, +and will hereafter be a standard citation +with explorers of the natural history of +religions. It might be more proper to +go back of Young, and adhere to Joe +Smith as the figure-head of the Mormon +dispensation. How Smith would have +turned out had he lived, and whether he +would have made as much of Utah as +the man upon whose shoulders his mantle +fell, is not easy to say; but his was a +less robust character, the enthusiast in +him too far obscuring the organizer and +commander. The Church is the thing +to look at, rather than its leaders, when +we consider duration—the soil rather +than the plough. Why has Mohammed's +creation lasted longer and spread wider +than that of Charlemagne or Tamerlane? +And is Smith's to have the like fortune, +or to die out like those of Münster and +Joanna Southcote?</p> + +<p>The Mormon "revelation" has been +before the world more than forty years. +In twenty-two years from his first vision +Mohammed had reduced all Arabia +under his religious and political sway. +Young's dominions have not expanded +territorially. His faith cannot be said to +exist outside of Utah. His converts are +compelled to go thither for the exercise +of their religion. Salt Lake City is not a +Mecca, the goal of a passing pilgrimage, +but the one and only possible abiding-place +of those who profess its creed. A +system thus localized is in danger of being +stifled. Especially is this the case when its +seat is exposed to invasion by a swelling +current of non-sympathizers or open enemies. +These may be repelled or prevented +from improving their foothold by +the firmness, unity and numerical predominance +of the invaded. So it has +happened at Salt Lake. The Mormons +hold all the serviceable soil, and it is difficult +for the "Gentiles" to effect a lodgment. +Until they do, they must occupy, +even in their own eyes, somewhat the +position of adventurers. They cannot +hope to secure the respect of the industrious +sectaries who own and till the soil, +and who are taught to count them aliens +and persecutors. Irrigation is here the +only means of successful agriculture. It +involves great outlay of capital and labor, +and creates great fixedness of tenure. +Newcomers are thus additionally +discouraged.</p> + +<p>Thus entrenched in a well-provisioned +citadel, welcoming all the new levies it +<a name="Page_515" id="Page_515"><span class="pagenum">Page 515</span></a>can win, and amply able to provide for +them, Mormonism bids fair to make a +prolonged stand. To emerge from a defensive +position and strike for unlimited +sway is what it cannot, to judge by all +precedents, expect. It will be compelled, +in fact, to lighten itself of some dead +weights in order to maintain its actual +situation. Polygamy must go, and the +absolute power of the priesthood be modified. +With some such adaptations it may +continue a reality for generations to come. +And time is a great sanctifier. A creed +that lives for one or two centuries is by +so much the more likely to live longer. +Youth is the critical period with religions, +as with animals and plants and nations. +Through that period Mormonism is passing +with flattering success. That such a +lusty juvenile will, by favor of the mellowing +effect imposed on all creeds by +early years of toil, trouble and experience, +reach a middle age of presentable +decency, is not a more unlikely supposition +than the worthy Vermont clergyman +would have pronounced, half a +century ago, the idea that his <i>jeu d'esprit</i> +would become the Bible of sixty thousand +industrious, well-ordered English-speaking +people in the heart of the American +continent.</p> + +<p>E.C.B.</p> + + +<h3><a name="The_Education_Of_Women_In_India" id="The_Education_Of_Women_In_India"></a>The Education Of Women In India.</h3> + +<p>According to a report sent to our +Commissioner of Education at Washington +four years ago, there were then +in India one thousand girls' schools supported +by the government and some five +hundred missionary schools devoted to +female education. Besides these, there +has sprung up during the last few years +a new field for the women-educators in +that country. This is the teaching of women +in their homes. It is called <i>zenana-work.</i> +The <i>zenana</i> is the women's apartment +in the house—the <i>harem</i> of the +Turks. Women have been sent from +England and from America for this special +object, and their labors are meeting +with encouraging success. They are +constantly gaining admission to new families, +which from caste or other causes +are opposed to sending their young women +to the regular schools. Some of the +zenana-teachers are regularly-educated +physicians.</p> + +<p>For the government schools each province +has a director of public instruction, +with inspectors of divisions and subdivisions. +These directors are "gentlemen of +high qualification and well paid." It is +a notable fact that in one of the provinces +the office of director is filled by a +Christian woman—a foreigner no doubt, +though the report does not say.</p> + +<p>At Dehra, at the foot of the Himalaya +Mountains, there is a high school for girls +organized on the plan of the Mount Holyoke +Seminary. Here English is spoken, +and the pupils are carried through +a course of training that may justly be +termed <i>high</i>. One of the pupils of this +school has lately been appointed by the +government to go to England and qualify +herself as a physician, under a contract +to return and serve the government +by taking charge of a hospital and college +for training young women as midwives +and nurses.</p> + +<p>Of course, in a country containing a +population of over one hundred and fifty-one +millions, one thousand public schools +for girls, supplemented as these are by +missionary schools of many denominations, +are inadequate to meet the needs +of the people. There is an increasing +demand in all the provinces for schools +and colleges; and the native young men +especially are eagerly seeking the educational +advantages of the colleges and +universities, because they know that these +are a sure road to preferment. "The government +takes care to give employment +to those who wish it."</p> + +<p>The difficulties in the way of female +education in India are well expressed in +a late letter from one of the most distinguished +native reformers, Baboo Keshub +Chunder Sen of Calcutta. "No words +of mine," he says, "would convey to you +an adequate idea of the great obstacles +which the social and religious condition +of the Hindoo community presents in the +way of female education and advancement. +In a country where superstition +and caste prejudices prevail to an alarming +extent, where widows are cruelly persecuted +and prevented from remarrying, +<a name="Page_516" id="Page_516"><span class="pagenum">Page 516</span></a>where high-caste Hindoos are allowed to +marry as many wives as they like without +undertaking the responsibility of protecting +them, and where little girls marry at +a most tender age and sacrifice all prospects +of healthy physical and mental +development, it will take centuries before +any solid and extensive reform is +achieved."</p> + +<p>Until recently, scarcely one woman in +ten thousand learned to read or acquired +any of the accomplishments common to +women of Christian countries. Occasionally, +women of vicious lives in cities, having +leisure, became quite learned, and this +made learning a shame for women of irreproachable +reputation. Moreover, Hindoo +husbands declared, and believed, that +if you taught a woman to read she would +be sure in time to have illicit relations +with some one. Ignorance was innocence, +the safeguard of both rank and +chastity.</p> + +<p>The missionaries, who were the first +to attempt the amelioration of the people, +had to commence with the lowest +castes or classes, those having nothing +to lose; and even then the teachers had +to pay the girls a small copper coin daily +for attending school. Even the government +schools in some places pay the girls +for attending, but they are much more +popular than the missionary schools, because, +according to the Rev. Joseph Warren +in the report mentioned, the parents +are not afraid that their girls will become +Christians by attending them; and +he adds that the government teachers +and books are "all positively heathen or +quite destitute of all religion." In some +parts of the country the government +schools secure the attendance of high-caste +girls by allowing them to be placed +behind a curtain, and thus screened from +the eyes of the male teacher or inspector, +as all the women of such classes are +screened from male visitors. Even the +physician sees only a hand protruded +from under a curtain, and by the touch +of this, with a few unsatisfactory answers +to his questions, he is supposed to be able +to know what the malady is, and how to +prescribe for it.</p> + +<p>M.H.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Literature_Of_The_Day" id="Literature_Of_The_Day"></a>Literature Of The Day.</h2> + + +<h4>Birds and Poets: with other Papers. By +John Burroughs. New York: Hurd & +Houghton.</h4> + +<p>A duodecimo that discourses on equal terms +of Emerson and the chickadee, and unites +Carlyle and the author's cow with a cement +or filling-in indescribable in variety and in +the comminution of materials, need not be +held to strict account in the matter of neatness +or accuracy of title. The closing article, +headed "The Flight of the Eagle," is the +most remarkable of the collection. Who +would suspect, under such a heading, an +elaborate eulogy of Walt Whitman? The +writer is obviously more at home among the +song-birds than among the Raptores, unless he +be the discoverer of some new species of eagle +characterized by traits very unlike those of +other members of the genus. It were to be +wished that he had left out the disquisition +on Whitman, for it is a jarring chord in his +little orchestra of lyric and ornithologic song. +He might have kept it by him till the longer +growing of his critical beard, and then, if still +a devotee at that singular shrine, have expanded +it into a volume or two explanatory +of the imagination, animus and metre of his +favorite bard.</p> + +<p>The feathered warblers have always been +popular with the featherless, who are indebted +to them for no end of similes and suggestions. +What would poetry be without the skylark, +the nightingale, the dove and the eagle? It +is far yet from having exhausted them. It +cannot be said to have approached them in +the right way—on the most eloquent and +interesting side. It forgets that each species +of bird stands by itself, and has its special life +<a name="Page_517" id="Page_517"><span class="pagenum">Page 517</span></a>and history as truly as man. We counted +thirty-nine kinds in a grove the centre whereof +was our delightful abode for two-thirds of +the past summer, each endowed with its separate +outfit of language, ways and means of +living, tastes and political and social notions. +In each, moreover, individualism showed itself—if +not to our apprehension as articulately, +yet as indubitably, as among the race +which considers them to have been all created +for its amusement and advantage. It +does not take long, superficial as is our acquaintance +with their vernacular and the +workings of their little brains, to single out +particular specimens, and perceive that no +two "birds of a feather" are exactly alike. +A particular robin will rule the roost, and +assert successfully for his mate the choice of +resting-places above competing redbreasts. It +is a particular catbird, identified, it may be, +by a missing feather in his tail, that heads the +foray on our strawberries and cherries. We +recognize afar off either of the pair of "flickers," +or yellow-shafted woodpeckers, which +have set up their penates in the heart of +the left-hand garden gatepost. The wren +whose modest tabernacle occupies the top of +the porch pilaster we have little difficulty in +"spotting" when we meet her in a joint stroll +along the lawn-fence. Her ways are not as +the ways of other wrens. She has a somewhat +different style of diving into the ivy and +exploring the syringa. A new generation of +doves has grown up since the lilacs were in +bloom, and nothing is easier than to distinguish +the old and young of the two or +three separate families till all leave the grass +and the gravel together and hie to the stubble-fields +beyond our ken. Of the one mocking bird +who made night hideous by his masterly +imitations of the screaking of a wheel-barrow +(regreased at an early period in self-defence) +and the wheezy bark of Beppo, the +superannuated St. Bernard, there could of +course be no doubt. There was none of +his kind to compare him with—not even a +mate, for "sexual selection" could not possibly +operate in face of so inharmonious a +love-song. His isolation had its parallel in +the one white guinea-fowl that haunted the +shrubbery like a ghost, much more silent and +placid than it would have been in society, and +its antitype in the hennery, where individuality +of course ran riot among the Brahmas, +Dominicas and Hamburgs—hens that would +and would not lay, that would and would +not set, that would and would not scratch up +seeds, and presented generally as great a variety +of vagaries as of feathers. So, when we +turned our back at last on lovely Boscobel, +itself shut out, as the common phrase goes, +"from the world" by serried ramparts of +maple, elm, acacia and catalpa, we knew +well that that enceinte of leafage enclosed +many little worlds of its own—winged microcosms, +epicycles of the grand cycle of dateless +life which man in his humility assumes +to be merely a subsidiary appendage of his +own orbit.</p> + +<p>Birds should be studied seriously. The +naturalists will tell us more about them, and +interest us more, than the poets. Mr. Bryant +makes fun of the bobolink, and turns into +an aimless whistle the solemn oration on domestic +matters uttered by that small but energetic +American to his mate. The waterfowl +he treats more gravely and respectfully, but +he still makes it only a part of the landscape +and the theme, without ascribing any +intelligent purpose to its flight. The bird, +proceeding steadily and calmly to its business, +may well have confounded its versifier +with his fellow the fowler, and looked upon +him, too, as regretting only that it was out +of gunshot. Audubon or Wilson would have +noted more sensibly the floating figure, far +above "falling dew," and the earth-bound +mortal who was evidently afraid of rheumatics +and calculating whether he could walk home +before dark. The bird, they would have been +perfectly aware, was neither "wandering" +nor "lost," and no more in need of the special +interposition of a protecting Providence +than they or Mr. Bryant. They would infer +its motives, its point of departure and its destination, +the character of the friends it left behind +or sought— whether it was carrying out +a plan of the day or bound on an expedition +covering half the year. Its species would +have been plain to them at half a glance, and +its scientific name would have replaced the +vague designation of "waterfowl." Its life, +habits and habitat winter and summer, would +have unrolled before them, and the dogs-eared +and rain-stained note-book sprung open +for a new entry. The poet, on the other hand, +got happily home without injury to his health +(for he is still hale half a century after the +fact), lit the gas, nibbed the quill pen of the +day, and sent down to us what must be confessed +a pleasanter memorandum than we +should have had from the forest-students. +<a name="Page_518" id="Page_518"><span class="pagenum">Page 518</span></a>These, brave and ardent fellows! have long +been asleep beneath the birds.</p> + +<p>Mr. Burroughs is half poet, half naturalist +in his way of looking at Nature, and steers +clear of the poetic vagueness in regard to +species. A passing description of the brown +thrush as "skulking" among the bushes hits +that bird to the life. Some remarks on page +119 would seem to be applied by a slip of the +pen to the crow blackbird, instead of the cowbird, +which has always enjoyed the distinction +of being the only American species that disposes +of its offspring after the fashion of the +cuckoo and Jean Jacques Rousseau. The +chapter on Emerson contains some acute +remarks, but the warmest tribute to Emerson +is the book itself, in which that writer's influence +is everywhere patent both in style and +thought. Mr. Burroughs has a happy facility +of expression, and could well afford by this +time to discard the Emersonian props and +stand on his own merits.</p> + + +<h4>The Life of Edgar Allan Poe. By W.F. +Gill. Illustrated. New York: Dillingham.</h4> + +<p>Griswold's memoir of Poe has been actually +beneficial to the reputation of its subject, contrary +to its obvious design. It has caused a +thorough sifting of all accessible records of +the poet's short and dreary life, and elicited +many reminiscences from men of mark who +were in one way or another personally associated +with him. We know now, more certainly +than we might have done but for Griswold's +effort to prove the opposite, that Poe +was not expelled in disgrace from the University +of Virginia, but bore himself well +there as a student and a man; that he deliberately +went to work and procured his being +dropped from the rolls of West Point by building +up with venial faults the requisite sum of +"demerits," after having repeatedly and in +vain sought permission to withdraw from the +control of a system of discipline so unsuited +to his temperament; that, so far from being +intemperate, a single glass of wine sufficed +to bring on something like insanity; that, +instead of neglecting his family, he devoted +himself to them with a very rare exclusiveness, +and wore down his health by watching +at the bedside of his sick wife; that he was +as faithful to his business as to his domestic +obligations; and that, wholly disqualified for +battling with the world, he managed to keep +his necessarily troubled life at least unstained. +We know, moreover, that he did not appoint +Griswold his literary executor, and that the +document used by the latter as a means of deriving +from that assumed office an opportunity +of vindictive defamation was drawn up after +the poet's death by Griswold himself. To +the controversy thus excited we are indebted +for the illumination of one or two poems relinquished +by the critics as hopelessly, if not +intentionally, obscure. <i>Ulalume</i>, for example, +held by some to be a mere experiment on the +jingling capacity of words and the taste of +readers for grappling with insoluble puzzles, +is pronounced by one familiar with his most +intimate feelings at the time of its composition +a sublimated but distinct reflex of them +and of the circumstances which gave them +color.</p> + +<p>Could Poe's pen have cleared itself from +the morbid influences which fixed it in a +peculiar path, we might have missed some +of his finest and most subtle poems and some +prose efforts which we could better spare. +But his wonderful powers of analysis would +have been serviceable upon a broader and +more practical field. He had an insight into +the laws of language and of rhythm equalled +by no one else in our day. What is most mysterious +in the forms and relations of matter +had a special charm for him. None could +trace it more acutely; and his powers, matured +by more and healthier years and applied +in their favorite direction, were quite equal to +results like those attained by his predecessor +Goethe, the savant of poets. He died a few +years older than Burns and Byron, but more +of a boy than either. The man Poe we never +saw. The best of him was to come, and it +never came. Poe had, however, what he is +not always credited with—the sincerity and +earnestness of maturity. He was anything +but a mere propounder of riddles. Had he +lived to our day, his office would have been +to aid science, so wonderfully advanced in +the intervening third of a century, in solving +some of its own. And in addition to that +possible work we should have been none the +poorer in the treasures of poetry he actually +gave us.</p> + + +<h4>Olivia Raleigh. By W.W. Follett Synge. +Philadelphia: J.B. Lippincott & Co.</h4> + +<p>In the few choice words of introduction to +the American reprint Mrs. Annis Lee Wister +admirably characterizes this charming novel. +It is indeed like a "clear, pure breath of +English air:" from the first page to the last +<a name="Page_519" id="Page_519"><span class="pagenum">Page 519</span></a>it is redolent of the health of an "incense-breathing +morn." There are no dark scenes +here, leaving on the reader a feeling of degradation +that such things can be—no impossible +villain weaving a web of intricate or purposeless +villainy—but all is fresh and genuine, +and we close the volume with a sense of +gratitude that such a story is possible.</p> + +<p>Even if this be not in itself a recommendation +sufficient to enlist the interest of novel-readers, +<i>Olivia Raleigh</i> is something more: +it is a work of art: there is in it nothing crude +or hasty or ill-digested. Around the four or +five prominent characters all the interest centres, +and the attention is not distracted by any +wearisome episodes that have nothing to do +with the main story. The characters are admirably +thought out, and reveal themselves +more by their actions than by any microscopical +analysis of motives. They pass before us +like veritable human beings, and what they +are we learn from what they do. The transformation +of one of the characters from a gay, +debonnair bachelor past middle age into a +penurious miser of the Blueberry-Jones type +is bold, and in less skilful hands would be a +blemish, but Mr. Synge has amply justified it, +and admirably uses it to cement the structure +of his plot. There is no weakness in any +chapter, and as we read so secure do we feel +in the author's strength that, had he chosen +to end the story in sorrow and not in joy, we +should submit as though to an inflexible decree +of Fate.</p> + + +<h4>Les Koumiassine. Par Henry Gréville. Paris: +Plon.</h4> + +<p>It is always interesting to watch the course +of French fiction, because while the novel is +in all countries at the present time the favorite +form of expression of those writers who +eschew scientific work on the one side and +stand aloof from poetry on the other, in France, +which is noticeably the country where theories +are put into practice as well as invented, all +sorts of literary methods have their clever defenders, +who furnish examples of what they +preach. Since Balzac and George Sand died, +the post of leading novelist has been vacant, +although there has been no lack of writers +of the second or third, and especially of still +lower, rank. Octave Feuillet still produces +occasionally a clever piece of workmanship; +Cherbuliez at intervals writes a novel which +proves how lamentable a thing is the possession +of brilliancy alone apart from the seriousness +of character, or of some sides of character, +which must exist alongside of even +high intellectual qualities in order that the +man may make a lasting impression on his +time. Great gifts frittered away on meaningless +trifles are as disappointing as possible, +and are the more disappointing in proportion +to the greatness of the gifts; so that the decadence +of Cherbuliez—or, if this is too severe, +his lack of improvement after his brilliant +beginning—is a very melancholy thing. Zola +is among the younger men, the head of a +number of enthusiasts who revel in the exact +study of social ordure, and who threaten to +destroy fiction by ridding it of what makes +its life—imagination, that is—and substituting +for it scientific fact. Theuriet is an amiable +but by no means a powerful writer, who so +far has contented himself with following different +models without striking out any special +path of his own.</p> + +<p>Henry Gréville is a new author, who has +reached by no means the highest, yet a very +respectable, place—such as would be a source +of gratification to most people. The name +signed to her novels is the <i>nom-de-plume</i> of a +lady who, as is also apparent from her work, +has lived long enough in Russia to become +familiar with the people and their ways. <i>Les +Koumiassine</i> is a story of Russian life, +treating of a rich family whose name gives +the title to the novel. The family is one +of great wealth, and consists of the Count +Koumiassine and his wife, their two children—one +a boy of nine or ten, the other +a girl half a dozen years older—and a niece +of about seventeen. The plot concerns itself +with the efforts of the countess to give her +niece, whom she values much less than her +daughter, a suitable husband. The poor girl +is bullied and badgered after the most approved +methods of domestic tyranny, and +her high-spirited struggle against adverse +circumstances makes the book as readable +as one could wish. After all, the family is +a microcosm, and furnishes frequent opportunity +for the practice of good or bad qualities; +and the cleverest novel-writers have +chosen just this subject which seems so bald +to the romantic writer. The contest in this +case is a long one, and is hotly contested, +and the imperiousness of the countess and +the graceful courage of the girl are excellently +well described. The other characters +too are clearly put before the reader, so that +those who exercise care in their choice of +<a name="Page_520" id="Page_520"><span class="pagenum">Page 520</span></a>French novels may take up this one with the +certainty that they will be entertained, and, +what is rarer, innocently entertained. For +in a large pile of French novels it would be +hard to find so pretty a story so well told as +is the intimacy between the two young girls, +the cousins, who in their different ways circumvent +Fate in the person of the countess. +Their amiability and jollity and loyalty to +each other give the book an air of attractive +truthfulness and refinement which well replaces +the priggishness generally to be found +in innocuous French fiction. More than this, +the plot is intelligently handled, and no person +is introduced who is not carefully studied. +In this respect of careful execution the author +resembles Tourgueneff, whose friend and disciple +she is. Like him, and like those who +have been affected by his influence, she gives +attention to the minor characters and comparatively +insignificant incidents, so that the +book makes a really lifelike impression. This +is not a story of great passion, but it deals +very cleverly with the less open waters of +domestic strife. While what it shows of +human nature in general is the most important +thing, what is shown of Russian life is +of great interest. The position of the countess, +and the habit of her mind with its over-bearing +self-will and ingenious self-approval, +are studies possible, of course, anywhere, but +pretty sure to be found especially in a land +like Russia, where the habit of command was +until recently so strongly fostered by the existence +of serfdom. The condition of those +who are exposed to this aggressive imperiousness +is clearly illustrated in the numerous dependants +who make their appearance in this +story. But it is the countess who is the best +drawn and most impressive personage. She +is really lifelike, and yet not a commonplace +figure.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="Books_Received" id="Books_Received"></a><i>Books Received</i>.</h2> + +<p>Disease of the Mind: Notes on the Early +Management, European and American +Progress, Modern Methods, etc., in the +Treatment of Insanity, with especial reference +to the needs of Massachusetts and +the United States. By Charles F. Folsom, +M.D. Boston: A. Williams & Co.</p> + +<p>Cicero's Tusculan Disputations; also Treatises +on The Nature of the Gods, and on +The Commonwealth. Literally translated +by C.D. Yonge. New York: Harper & +Brothers.</p> + +<p>Shakespeare: The Man and the Book. Being +a collection of Occasional Papers on the +Bard and his Writings. Part I. By C.M. +Ingleby, M.A. London: Trübner & Co.</p> + +<p>Shakespeare's Comedy of a Midsummer +Night's Dream. Edited with Notes by +William J. Rolfe, A.M. New York: +Harper & Brothers.</p> + +<p>Four Irrepressibles; or, The Tribe of Benjamin: +Their Summer with Aunt Agnes, +what they Did, and what they Undid. +Boston: Loring.</p> + +<p>The Magnetism of Iron Vessels, with a Short +Treatise on Terrestrial Magnetism. By +Fairman Rogers. New York: D. Van +Nostrand.</p> + +<p>Virgin Soil. By Ivan Tourgueneff. From +the French by T.S. Perry. (Leisure-Hour +Series.) New York: Henry Holt & Co.</p> + +<p>Personal Appearance and the Culture of +Beauty. By T.S. Sozinsky, M.D., Ph.D. +Philadelphia: Allen, Lane & Scott.</p> + +<p>An English Commentary on the Tragedies +of Euripides. By Charles Anthon, LL.D. +New York: Harper & Brothers.</p> + +<p>Strength of Men and Stability of Nations. By +P.A. Chadbourne, D.D., LL.D. New +York: G.P. Putnam's Sons.</p> + +<p>Eighth Annual Report of the State Board of +Health of Massachusetts. Boston: Albert +J. Wright. State Printer.</p> + +<p>The Antelope and Deer of America. By +John Dean Caton, LL.D. New York: +Hurd & Houghton.</p> + +<p>G.T.T.; or, The Wonderful Adventures of a +Pullman. By Edward E. Hale. Boston: +Roberts Brothers.</p> + +<p>Until the Day Break. By Mrs. J.M.D. +Bartlett ("Birch Arnold"). Philadelphia: +Porter & Coates.</p> + +<p>Other People's Children. By the author of +"Helen's Babies." New York: G.P. +Putnam's Sons.</p> + +<p>Poet and Merchant. By B. Auerbach. (Leisure-Hour +Series.) New York: Henry +Holt & Co.</p> + +<p>Mental Education. By J. Edward Cranage, +M.A., Ph.D. London: Bemrose & +Sons.</p> + +<p>Beautiful Edith, the Child-Woman. (Loring's +Tales of the Day.) Boston: Loring.</p> + +<p>Aliunde; or, Love Ventures of Tom, Dick and +Harry. New York: Charles P. Somerby.</p> + +<p>Ideals made Real: A Romance. By George L. +Raymond. New York: Hurd & Houghton.</p> + +<p>Lola. By A. Griffiths. (Leisure-Hour Series.) +New York: Henry Holt & Co.</p> + +<p>Kilmeny: A Novel. By William Black. +New York: Harper & Brothers.</p> + +<p>Winstowe: A Novel. By Mrs. Leith-Adams. +New York: Harper & Brothers.</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Lippincott's Magazine of Popular +Literature and Science, October, 1877, Vol. XX. No. 118, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIPPINCOTT'S MAGAZINE *** + +***** This file should be named 16361-h.htm or 16361-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/3/6/16361/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Christine D and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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100644 index 0000000..de71da9 --- /dev/null +++ b/16361.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8409 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Lippincott's Magazine of Popular +Literature and Science, October, 1877, Vol. XX. No. 118, by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Lippincott's Magazine of Popular Literature and Science, October, 1877, Vol. XX. No. 118 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: July 27, 2005 [EBook #16361] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIPPINCOTT'S MAGAZINE *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Christine D and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +Transcriber's note: Punctuation normalized, original spelling retained. + + +[Illustration: "He stepped forward with a smile." For Percival. Page 420.] + + + +LIPPINCOTT'S MAGAZINE +OF +_POPULAR LITERATURE AND SCIENCE_. + +OCTOBER, 1877. +Vol XX--No. 118 + +Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1877, by J.B. LIPPINCOTT +& CO., in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. + + + + + + +CHESTER AND THE DEE. + +TWO PAPERS.--I. + + +[Illustration: THE DEE ABOVE BALA.] + +The history of Chester is that of a key. It was the last city that gave up +Harold's unlucky cause and surrendered to William the Conqueror, and the +last that fell in the no less unlucky cause of the Stuart king against the +Parliamentarians. In much earlier times it was held by the famous Twentieth +Legion, the _Valens Victrix_, as the key of the Roman dominion in the +north-west of Britain, and at present it has peculiarities of position, as +well as of architecture, which make it unique in England and a lodestone to +Americans. Curiously planted on the border of the newest and most bustling +manufacturing district in England, close to the coalfields of North Wales, +the mines of Lancashire, the quays of its sea-rival Liverpool and the mills +of grimy, wealthy Manchester, it still exercises, besides its artistic and +historic supremacy, a _bona fide_ ecclesiastical sway over most of these +new places. It is the first ancient city accessible to American travellers, +many of whom have given practical tokens of their affectionate remembrance +of it by largely subscribing to the fund for the restoration of the +cathedral, a work that has already cost some eighty thousand pounds. + +[Illustration: CAER-GAI.] + +The neighborhood of Chester is as suggestive of antiquity and foreigners as +the city itself. Volumes might be written about the quaint, Dutch-like +scenery of the low rich land reclaimed from the sea; the broad, sandy +estuary of the Dee, with the square-headed peninsula, the Wirrall, which +divides this quiet river from the noisy Mersey; the Hoylake, Parkgate and +Neston fisher-folk on the sandy shores, with their queer lives, monotonous +scratching-up of mussels and cockles, a never-failing trade, their terms of +praise--"the biggest scrat," for instance, "in all the island," being the +form of commendation for the woman who can with her rake at the end of a +long pole scratch up most shellfish in a given time; the low, fertile green +pastures, the creamy cheese and the eight yearly cheese-fairs. The city +itself is the most foreign-looking in all England, and the inhabitants have +the good taste to be proud of this. The river Dee--Milton's "wizard +stream"--celebrated both by English and Welsh bards, is not seen to as much +advantage under the walls of the Roman "camp" (_castra_=Chester) as +elsewhere, but its bridges serve to supply the want of fine scenery, +especially the Old Bridge, which crosses the river just at its bend, and +whose massive pointed arches took the place, when they were first built, of +a ferry by which the city was entered at the "Ship Gate," whence now you +look over "the Cop" or high bank on the right side of the stream, and view, +as from a dike in Holland, the reclaimed land stretching eight miles beyond +Chester, though the resemblance ceases at Saltney, where behind the +iron-works tower the Welsh hills--Moel-Famman conspicuous above the +rest--that bound the Vale of Clwyd. + +The Dee is more a Welsh than an English river. It rises in the bleak +mountain-region of Merionethshire, the most intensely Welsh of all +counties, above Bala Lake, which is commonly but incorrectly called its +source. Thence it flows through the Vale of Llangollen, famous in poetry, +and waters the meadows of Wynnestay, the splendid home of one of Wales's +most national representatives, Sir Watkin Williams Wynn, and only beyond +that does it become English by flowing round and into Cheshire. On a very +tiny scale the Dee follows something of the course of the Rhine: three +streamlets combine to form it; these unite at the village of Llanwchllyn, +and the river flows on, a mere mountain-torrent, past an old farmhouse, +Caer-gai, lying on a desolate moor at the head of Bala Lake, and through +the lake itself, after which its scenery alternates, like the Rhine's below +Constance, between rocky gorges and flat moist meadows dotted with hamlets, +churches and towns. Bala--otherwise Lin-Jegid and Pimblemere ("Lake of the +Five Parishes")--has some traditional connection with the great British +epic, or rather with its accessories--the _Morte d'Arthur_--of which +Tennyson has availed himself in _Enid_, mentioning that Enid's gentle +ministrations soothed the wounded Geraint + + As the south-west that blowing Bala Lake, + Fills all the sacred Dee. + +Arthur's own home, according to Spenser, was at the source of the Dee: +Vortigern's castle was near by on the head-waters of the Conway; and "under +the foot of Rauran's mossy base" was the dwelling of old Timon, where +Merlin came and gave to his care the wonderful infant who was to become the +Christian Hercules of Britain. "Rauran" is the mountain which in Welsh is +Arran-Pon-Llin, and which with its rocky shelves overlooks the yews of +Bala's churches and the unaccustomed shade trees which the little town +boasts in its principal streets. The lake, quiet and hardly visited as it +is now, has great resources which are likely to be called upon in the +future, and a survey was made ten years ago with a view of supplying +Liverpool, Manchester, Blackburn, Birkenhead, etc. with water whenever a +fresh demand for it should arise. This would imply the building of a +breakwater at the narrow outlet of the lake, the damming up of a few +mountain passes, and the "impounding" of a tributary of the Dee below the +lake--the Tryweryn, which has an extensive drainage-area; but these works +are still only projected. + +[Illustration: BALA.] + +There is scarcely an English brook that has not some historical +associations, some poetical reminiscences, some attractions beyond those of +scenery. Wherever water, forest and meadow were combined, an abbey was +generally planted. Bala Lake, with its fishing-rights, once belonged to the +Cistercian abbey of Basingwerk, while the Dee just above Llangollen was the +property of the abbey of Valle Crucis, whose beautiful ruins still stand on +its banks. Before we reach them we pass by the country of the Welsh hero, +Owen Glendower, from whom are descended many of the families of this +neighborhood and others--the Vaughans, for instance; by Glendower's prison +at Corwen, and the Parliament House at Dolgelly, where he signed a treaty +with France, and where the beautiful oak carving of the roof would alone +repay a visitor for his trouble in getting there. The Dee is for the most +part wanting in striking natural features, but here and there steep rocks +enclose its foaming waters; deep banks covered with trees break the rugged +shore-line; a village, such as Llanderfel with a tumbledown bridge, lies +nestled in the valley; and coracles shoot here and there over the stream. +These primitive boats, basketwork covered with hides, or, as used now, +canvas coated with tar, are propelled by a paddle, and are much used for +netting salmon. Near Bangor the fishermen are so skilful that they +generally win in the coracle-races got up periodically by enthusiastic +revivalists of old national sports. + +[Illustration: REMAINS OF VALLE CRUCIS ABBEY.] + +Llangollen Vale has a beauty of its own, the family likeness of which to +that of all valleys in the hearts of mountains makes it none the less +welcome. The picturesqueness of thatched houses and a dilapidation of +masonry which only age makes beautiful marks the difference between this +valley and the Alpine ones with their trim, clean toy houses, or the +Transatlantic ones with their square, solid, black log huts and huge +well-sweeps; otherwise the fresh greenery, the purple mountain-shadows, the +subdued sounds, no one knows whence, the sense of peace and solitude, are +akin to every other beautiful valley-scene of mingled wildness and +cultivation. A traveller can hardly help making comparisons, yet much +escapes him of the peculiar charm that hangs round every place, and is too +subtle to disclose itself to the eye of a mere passer. You must live at +least six months in one place before its true character unfolds: the broad +beauties you see at once, but it needs the microscope of habit to find out +the rarest charms. Therefore it is much easier to descant on the tangible, +striking beauty of Valle Crucis Abbey than on the aggregate loveliness of +Llangollen Vale; and perhaps it is this lack of familiarity that leads +novelists, poets and others to dwell so much more and with such detail on +buildings than on natural scenery. It may not be given them to understand +upon how much higher a plane of beauty stands a bed of ferns on a rocky +ledge, a clump of trees even on a flat meadow, and especially a tangled +forest-scene or a view of distant mountains in a sunset glow, or the +surface of water undotted by a sail, than the highest effect of man-made +beauty, be it even York Minster or the Parthenon. What man does has value +by reason of the meaning in it, and of course man cannot but fall short of +the perfection of his own meaning; whereas Nature is of herself perfection, +and perfection in which there is no effort. Valle Crucis is hardly a rival +of Fountains or Rivaulx. The Cistercians in the beginning of their +foundation were reformers, ascetic, and essentially agriculturists. Their +great leader, Bernard of Clairvaux, the advocate of silence and work, once +said, "Believe me, I have learnt more from trees than ever I learnt from +men." But decay came even into this community of farmer-monks, and the +praise and panegyric of the abbey, as handed down to us by a Welsh poet, +betray unconsciously things hardly to the credit of a monastic house, for +the abbot, "the pope of the glen," he tells us, gave entertainments "like +the leaves in summer," with "vocal and instrumental music," wine, ale and +curious dishes of fish and fowl, "like a carnival feast," and "a thousand +apples for dessert." + +[Illustration: OWEN GLENDOWER'S PRISON.] + +[Illustration: THE PARLIAMENT HOUSE, DOLGELLY.] + +The river-scenery changes below Llangollen, and gives us first a glimpse of +a wooded, narrow valley, then of the unsightly accessories of the great +North Wales coalfield, after which it enters upon a typically English +phase--low undulating hills and moist, rich meadows divided by luxuriant +hedges and dotted with single spreading trees. The hedgerow timber of +Cheshire is beautiful, and to a great extent makes up for the want of +tracts of wooded land. This country is not, like the Midland counties and +the great Fen district, violently or exclusively agricultural, and these +hedges and trees, which are gratefully kept up for the sake of the shade +they afford to the cattle, show a very different temper among the farmers +from that utilitarianism which marks the men of Leicester shire, Lincoln, +Nottingham, Norfolk, or Rutland. There even great land-owners are often +obliged to humor their tenants, and keep the unwelcome hedges trimmed so as +not to interpose two feet of shade between them and the wheat-crop; and as +often as possible hedges are replaced by ugly stone walls or wooden fences. +It is only in their own grounds that landlords can afford to court +picturesqueness, and in this part of the country the American who is said +to have objected to hedges because they were unfit for seats whence to +admire the landscape, might safely sit down anywhere; only, as matters are +seldom perfectly arranged, there is very little to admire but a flat +expanse of wheat, barley and grass. This part of Cheshire has hardly more +diversity in its river-scenery, but the mere presence of trees and green +arbors makes it a pleasant picture, while here and there, as at Overton +(this is Welsh, however, and belongs to Flintshire), a church-tower comes +in to complete the scene. Here the Dee winds about a good deal, and +receives its beautiful, dashing tributary, the Alyn, which runs through the +Vale of Gresford and waters the park of Trevallyn Old Hall, one of the +loveliest of old English homes. Its pointed gables and great clustering +stacks of chimneys, its mullioned and diamond-paned windows, its +finely-wooded park, all realize the stranger's ideal of the antique +manor-house. This neighborhood is studded with country-houses in all styles +of architecture, from the characteristic national to the uncomfortable and +cold foreign type. Houses that were meant to stand in ilex-groves under a +purple sky and a sun of bronze look forlorn and uninviting under the gray +sky of England and amid its trees leafless for so many months in the year: +home associations seem impossible in a porticoed house suggestive of +outdoor living and the relegation of chambers to the use of a mere refuge +from the weather. For many of these places are no more than villas +enlarged, and might be set down with advantage to themselves in the +Regent's Park in London, the very acme of the commonplace. On the other +hand, all the traditional associations that go with an English hall +presuppose a national style of architecture. Even florid Tudor, even sturdy +"Queen Anne," can stand juxtaposition with groups of horses, dogs and +huntsmen; Christmas cheer and Christmas weather set them off all the +better; leafless trees are no drawback; the house looks warmer, coseyer, +more home-like, the worse the blast and rush without. A roaring fire is +natural to the huge hall fireplace, while in a mosaic-paved "ante-room" or +a frescoed "saloon" it looks foreign and out of place. Many an odd Welsh +and English house has unfortunately disappeared to make room for a cold, +unsuccessful monstrosity that reminds one of a mammoth railway-station or a +new hotel; and when Welsh names are tacked on to these absurd dwellings the +contrast is as painful as it is forcible. Such, for instance, is +Bryn-y-Pys, on the Dee--a house you might guess to belong to a Liverpool +merchant who had trusted to a common builder for a comfortable home. +Overton Cottage, on the other side, fills in with its walks and plantations +an abrupt bend of the river, and the view from the up-going road at its +back is very lovely, though the scene is purely pastoral. Overton +Churchyard is one of the "seven wonders" of North Wales: it has a very trim +and stately appearance, not that ragged, free if melancholy, +outspreadedness which distinguishes many country cemeteries, that +unpremeditated luxuriance of creepers and flowers, blossoming bushes and +grasses, that make up at least half of one's pleasant reminiscences of such +places. How much more interesting to find an old tomb or quaint "brass" +under the temple of a wild rosebush or in the firm clasp of an ivy-root +than to walk up to it and read the inscription newly scraped and cleaned by +the voluble attendant who volunteers to show you the place! The great elms +by Overton Church and the half-timbered and thatched houses crowding up to +its gates somewhat make up for the splendor of the coped wall and new +monuments in the churchyard. A scene wholly old is the Erbistock Ferry, +which one might mistake for a rope-ferry on the Mosel. The cottage looks +like the dilapidated lodge of an old monastery, and here, at least, is no +trimness. Two walls with a flight of steps in each enclose a grass terrace +between them, and trees and bushes straggle to the edge of the river, +hardly keeping clear of the swinging rope. Coracles are sometimes used for +ferrying--also punts. Bangor is a familiar name to students of church +history, and to those who are not, the startling tale of the massacre of +twelve hundred British monks by the Saxon and heathen king of Northumbria, +who conquered Chester and invaded Wales in the seventh century, is repeated +by the local guides. At present, Bangor is interesting to anglers and to +lovers of curiosities--to the former as a good salmon-ground, and to the +latter for the quaint verses, which, though trivial in themselves, borrow a +value from the date of their inscription and the "laws" to which they +refer. They are on the wall of the lower story of the bell-tower: + +[Illustration: IN THE VALE OF LLANGOLLEN.] + + If that to ring you would come here, + You must ring well with hand and ear; + But if you ring in spur or hat, + Fourpence always is due for that; + But if a bell you overthrow, + Sixpence is due before you go; + But if you either swear or curse, + Twelvepence is due; pull out your purse. + Our laws are old, they are not new; + Therefore the clerk must have his due. + If to our laws you do consent, + Then take a bell: we are content. + +[Illustration: LLANGOLLEN.] + +Farndon Bridge and Wrexham Church (the latter looks like a small cathedral +to the unpractised eye) are the last Welsh points of attraction before the +Dee becomes quite an English river. Malpas (_mauvais pas_ = "bad step"), on +the English bank, is significantly so-called from its situation as a border +town: the rector, too, might consider it not ill named, as regards the odd +partition of the church tithes, which has been in force from time +immemorial, and has given rise to an explanatory legend concerning a +travelling king whom the resident curate wisely entertained in the absence +of the rector, receiving for his guerdon a promise of an equal share in the +income, not only for himself, but for all future curates. In the upper +rectory (the lower is the curate's house) was born Bishop Heber in 1783, +and in the early years of this century, before missionary meetings were as +common as they are now, the young clergyman wrote on the spur of the +moment, with only one word corrected, the well-known hymn, "From +Greenland's Icy Mountains." A missionary sermon was announced for Sunday at +Wrexham, the vicarage of Heber's father-in-law, Shirley, and the want of a +suitable hymn was felt. He was asked on Saturday to write one, and did so, +seated at a window of the old vicarage-house. It was printed that evening, +and sung the next day in Wrexham Church. The original manuscript is in a +collection at Liverpool, and the printer who set up the type when a boy was +still living at Wrexham within the last twenty years. + +[Illustration: CHESTER, FROM THE ALDFORD ROAD.] + +The river now makes a turn, sweeping along into English ground and making +almost a natural moat round Chester, the great Roman camp whose form and +intersecting streets still bear the stamp of Roman regularity, and whose +history long bore traces of the influence of Roman inflexibility mingled +with British dash. The view of the city is fine from the Aldford road (or +Old Ford, where a Roman pavement is sometimes visible in the bed of the +stream), with the cathedral and St. John's towering over the peaks and +gables that shoot up above the walls. The mention of the ford brings to +mind a famous crossing of the river during the civil wars. It was just +before the battle of Rowton Moor, which Charles I. watched from the tower +that now bears his name; and Sir Marmaduke Langdale, one of his leal +soldiers, wishing to send the king notice of his having crossed the Dee at +Farndon Bridge and pressing on the Parliamentarians, bade Colonel Shakerley +convey the message as speedily as possible. The latter, to avoid the long +circuit by the bridge, galloped to the Dee, took a wooden tub used for +slaughtering swine, employed "a batting-staff, used for batting of coarse +linen," as an oar, put his servant in the tub, his horse swimming by him, +and once across left the tub in charge of the man while he rode to the +king, delivered his message and returned to cross over the same way. + +[Illustration: CORACLES.] + +Eaton and Wynnestay are the grandest of the Dee country-seats, though not +the most interesting as to architecture. The former, like many Italian +houses, has its park open to the public, and is an exception to the +jealously-guarded places in most parts of England, but its avenues, rather +formal though very magnificent, are approached by lodges. The Wrexham +avenue leads to a farmhouse called Belgrave, and here is the +christening-point of the new, fashionable London of society, of novelists +and of contractors. Another like avenue leads to Pulford, where there is +another lodge: a third leads from Grosvenor Bridge to the deer-park, and a +fourth to the village of Aldford. The hall is an immense pile, strikingly +like, at first glance, the Houses of Parliament, with the Victoria Tower +(this in the hall is one hundred and seventy feet high, and built above the +chapel), and the style is sixteenth-century French, florid and costly. The +plan is perhaps unique in England, and comfort has been attained, though +one would hardly believe it, such size seeming to swamp everything except +show. The description of the house, as given by a visitor there, reads like +that of a palace: "The hall is an octagonal room in the centre of the house +about seventy-five feet in length and from thirty to forty broad: on each +side, at the end farthest from the entrance, are two doors leading into +anterooms--one the ante-drawing-room, and the other the ante-dining-room; +each is lighted by three large windows, and is thirty-three feet in length: +they are fine rooms in themselves, and well-proportioned. From these lead +the drawing-room and the dining-room respectively, both exceedingly grand +rooms, ingenious in design and shape, each with two oriel windows and +lighted by three others and a large bay window: this suite completes the +east side. The south is occupied by the end of the drawing-room and a vast +library--all _en suite_. The library is lighted by four bay windows, three +flat ones and a fine alcove, and the rest of the main building to the west +is made up of billiard- and smoking-rooms, waiting-hall, groom-of-chambers' +sitting- and bed-rooms, and a carpet-room, besides the necessary +staircases. This completes the main building, and a corridor leads to the +kitchen and cook's offices: this corridor, which passes over the upper +part of the kitchen, branches off into two parts--one leading to an +excellently-planned mansion for the family and the private secretary, and +another leading to the stables, which are arranged with great skill. The +pony stable, the carriage-horse stable, the riding horses, occupy different +sides, and through these are arranged, just in the right places, the rooms +for livery and saddle grooms and coachmen. The laundry, wash-house, +gun-room and game-larder occupy another building, which, however, is easily +approached, and the whole building, though it extends seven hundred feet in +length, is a perfect model of compactness. Great facilities are given to +any one who desires to see it." The mention of a "mansion for the family" +shows how the associations of a home are lost in this wilderness of +magnificence: indeed, I remember a remark of a person whose husband had +three or four country-houses in England and Scotland and a house in London, +that "she never felt at home anywhere." + +[Illustration: CHESTER CATHEDRAL AND CITY WALL.] + +The farms in this neighborhood are mostly small, the average being seventy +acres, and some are still smaller, though when one gets down to ten, one is +tempted to call them gardens. Grazing and dairy-work are the chief +industries. Farther inland, beyond the manufacturing town of Stockport, is +a house of the Leghs, an immense building, more imposing than lovely in its +exterior, but one of the most individual and pleasant houses in its +interior as well as in its human associations. It has been altered at +various times, and bears traces, like a corrected map, of each new phase of +architecture for several hundred years. The four sides form a huge +quadrangle, entered by foreign-looking gateways, and the rooms all open +into a wide passage that runs round three sides of the building, and is a +museum in itself. Old and new are just enough blended to produce comfort, +and the stately, old-English look of the drawing-room, with its dark +panelling and tapestry, is a reproach to the pink-and-white, +plaster-of-Paris style of too many remodelled houses. Outside there is a +garden distinguished by a heavy old wall overrun with creepers, dividing +two levels and making a striking object in the landscape; and beyond that, +where the country grows bleak and begins to remind one of moors, there are +the last survivors of a unique breed of wild cattle, which, like the +mastiffs at the house, bear the name of the place. The name of another +Cheshire house, formerly belonging to the Stanleys, and now to Mr. +Gladstone, is probably familiar to American readers--Hawarden Castle. The +present house must trust entirely to associations for its interest, having +been built in 1809, before much taste was applied to restore old places, +but the old castle in the park dates from the middle of the thirteenth +century. The park is not unlike that of Arundel, but the views from the +ruin are finer and more varied. The counties of Caernarvon, Denbigh, Flint, +Cheshire and Lancashire are spread out around it, and the ruin itself is +beautiful and extensive. + +The road from Hawarden to Boughton is exceedingly grand: we come upon one +of the widest panoramas of the Dee and one of the most typical of English +country scenes. A vast sweep of country unsurpassed in richness spreads +along the river on the Cheshire side: sixty square miles of fields and +pastures are in sight, with elms, sycamores and formal rows of Lombardy +poplars. Wherever the trees cluster in a grove they usually mark the site +of a country-house or a cherished ruin, like this one of old Hawarden, +where one enormous oak tree sweeps its branches on the ground on every +side, and forms a canopy whence you can peer out, as through the delicate +tracery of a Gothic window, at the landscape beyond. The mouth of the Dee +is visible from this road, whence at low water it seems reduced to a huge +sandbank, through which the tired river trickles like a brook. The dun sky +and yellow sands and gray sea, with the island of Hilbree, a counterpart of +Lindisfarne both in its legend of a recluse and its continual alternation +twice a day between the state of an island and a peninsula, make a picture +pleasant to look back upon. Hence too come the shoals of cockles and +mussels that go to delight Londoners. Then the open-sea fishing, the lithe +boats that seem all sail, the wide waste of waters, with the point of Air +and the Great Orme's Head walling it in on the receding Welsh coasts, the +remembrance of the shipwreck a little beyond the mouth of the Dee which led +to Milton's poem of _Lycidas_ (containing the phrase "wizard stream" which +has become peculiar to the Dee),--all claim our notice, and it seems +impossible that we are so few miles from Manchester and so far from the +historic, romantic times of old. + +LADY BLANCHE MURPHY. + +[Illustration: OVERTON CHURCH.] + + + + +FOR ANOTHER. + + Sweet--sweet? My child, some sweeter word than sweet, + Some lovelier word than love, I want for you. + Who says the world is bitter, while your feet + Are left among the lilies and the dew? + + Ah? So some other has, this night, to fold + Such hands as his, and drop some precious head + From off her breast as full of baby-gold? + I, for her grief, will not be comforted. + +S.M.B. PIATT. + + + + +AMONG THE KABYLES. + +CONCLUDING PAPER. + +[Illustration: ROMAN SEPULCHRE AT TAKSEBT.] + + +Few countries twenty-five leagues long by ten wide have such an assortment +of climates as Grand Kabylia. From the Mediterranean on the north to the +Djurjura range on the south, a distance of two hours' ride by rail if there +were a railway, the ascent is equal to that from New York Bay to the summit +of Mount Washington. The palm is at home on the shore, while snow is +preserved through the summer in the hollows of the peaks. This epitome of +the zones is more condensed than that so often remarked upon on the eastern +slope of Mexico, although it does not embrace such extremes of temperature +as those presented by Vera Cruz and the uppermost third of Orizaba. The +country being more broken, the lower and higher levels are brought at many +points more closely together than on the Mexican ascent. It happens thus +that semi-tropical and semi-arctic plants come not simply into one and the +same landscape, but into actual contact. Each hill is a miniature Orizaba, +so far as it rises, and hundreds of abrupt hills collected in a space +comparatively so limited so dovetail the floras of different levels as in a +degree to cause them to coalesce and effect a certain mutual adaptation of +habits. Good neighborhood has established itself rather more completely +among the vegetable than with the human part of the inhabitants. + +What more amiable example of give-and-take than the intertwining of birch +and orange, the thin ghostly sprays of the hyperborean caressing the +fragrant leaf and golden globes of the sub-tropical? This, and other +conjunctions less eloquent of contrast, may be seen on the headland of +Zeffoun or Cape Corbelin. They stand out from a prevailing background of +the familiar forest trees of temperate Europe and America--the ash, elm, +beech, oak, fir and walnut. The orchards, above those of oranges and +lemons, are of figs and olives. The cork-oak covers considerable tracts, +but is less attended to than in Spain. A non-European aspect is imparted by +the tufts of cactus and aloes which abound in the most arid localities. + +[Illustration: THE DJURJURA RANGE.] + +Wherever intelligent farming is met with in Northern Africa it is a safe +assertion that the Kabyles are either on the spot or not far off. Like +other farmers, they are conservative and adhere to old rules or fancies, +which in some cases verge upon superstition. The practice of fertilizing +fig trees by hanging them with fruits of the wild fig is one of those which +it is difficult to class--whether with the visionary or the practical. Be +that as it may, people who know nothing about figs except to eat them have +no right to a say in the matter. Tradition and experience are in favor of +the Kabyle. He does what has been done since Aristotle, Theophrastus and +Pliny, all of whom insist on "caprification" as essential to a large crop +of figs adapted to drying. He will go or send many miles to procure the +wild fruit if it does not grow in his neighborhood, and the traffic in it +reaches a value of some thousands of dollars annually, trains of thirty, +fifty and sixty mule-loads passing from one tribe to another. As with other +valuable things, this inedible fruit is food for quarrelling. The tribe +which is rich in the _dokhar_, or wild fig, is fortunate, and especially so +if its neighbors have none or if their crop of it fails. It is then able to +"bull the market," and proceeds to do so with a promptness and vim that +would turn a Wall street operator blue with envy. But it is compelled to +take account of troubles in its path unknown at the Board. The party who is +"short" on dokhar may be "long" on matchlocks. If so, the speculation is +apt to come to an unhappy end. A sudden raid will capture the stock and at +once equalize the market. To many communities figs are at once meat and +pocket-money. To lose the harvest is not to be thought of. The aspect of +the means of preventing such a disaster is altogether a secondary +consideration. Dokhar at all hazards is the cry of men, women and children. +The comparative cessation of fig-wars is one of the blessings due to French +rule. + +[Illustration: ROAD ACROSS THE DJURJURA AT MOUNT TIROURDA.] + +What we deem the fruit of the fig is, it will be remembered, only the husk, +the apparent seeds being the true fruit and--before ripening--the blossom. +A small fly establishes itself in the interior of the wild fig, escaping in +great numbers when the fruit is ripe. This happens before the ripening of +the improved fig, and the fly is supposed to carry the wild pollen to the +flowers of the latter. A single insect, say the Kabyles, will perfect +ninety-nine figs, the hundredth becoming its tomb. Some varieties of figs +do not need caprification, but they are said to be unsuitable for drying or +shipment. + +The Italian practice of touching the eye of each fig, while yet on the +tree, with a drop of olive oil seems opposed to the African plan; since the +oil would certainly exclude the insect. And there are no better figs in the +world than those of the Southern States of the Union, which are not +treated in either way, and receive the least possible cultivation of any +kind. Those States, if it be true that the difference in the yield of a +"caprified" and non-caprified tree is that between two hundred and eighty +and twenty-five pounds, cannot do better than borrow a leaf from the Kabyle +book, should it only be a fig-leaf to aid in clothing the nakedness of bare +sands and galled hillsides. The United States Department of Agriculture +should by all means introduce the dokhar. Some of our agricultural +machinery would be an exchange in the highest degree beneficial to the +other side. + +[Illustration: THE PEAK OF TIROURDA.] + +Long before the French occupation the Kabyles had maintained a regulation +which is, we believe, peculiar in Europe to France--the _ban_, or +legally-established day for the beginning of the vintage and the harvest of +other fruits. The cultivator may repose under his own vine and fig tree, +but he shall not until the word is given by the proper authority put forth +his hand to pluck its luscious boon, though perfectly mature or past +maturity. Exceptions are made in case of invalids and distinguished guests, +and doubtless the hale schoolboy decrees an occasional dispensation in his +own favor. The birds share his defiance of the law, and both are abetted by +a third group of transgressors, the monkeys. + +Africans of this last-named race are in some localities extremely numerous, +and they do not restrict their foraging parties to succulent food. Grain +is very acceptable to them, and has the advantage of keeping better than +fruit, the art of drying which they have not yet mastered any more than the +Bushmen or the Pi-Utes. They establish granaries in the crevices of the +rocks; and these reserves of provision are sometimes of such magnitude as +to make exploring expeditions on the part of the plundered Kabyles quite +remunerative. + +[Illustration: DJEMA-SAHRIDJ.] + +These most ancient of all the devastators which have successively descended +upon Barbary are baboons of small size. They have no tails, that ancestral +organ having dwindled to a wart the size of a pea. This approach to the +form of man is aided by another point of personal resemblance--long +whiskers. That the tail should have been worn off against the rocks, or in +climbing the fences to get at orchards and melon-patches, is easily +conceivable. How the evolutionists account for the retention of the beard +does not yet appear. The females carry their young as adroitly and +carefully as do the Kabyle women, and ascend the rocks with them with much +greater activity. A young monkey has a less neglected look than a young +Kabyle. His ablutions cannot be less frequent. Tourists complain that all +Kabylia does not boast a single bath-house--a privation the more striking +to one who has to pick his way often for miles among the ruins of Roman +aqueducts, tanks and baths, the great basin in cut stone at Djema-Sahridj, +which gives name to the place, being a noted example of these works. + +[Illustration: A DISH-FACTORY.] + +As the vultures, dogs, negroes, Jews and jackals keep exact memoranda of +the market-days, so the baboons are always on hand at harvest. Ranged in +long ranks on an amphitheatre of cliffs, stroking gravely their long white +beards like so many reverend _episcopi_ or "on-lookers" confident of their +tithes, they calmly contemplate the toilers in the vale below. Swift was +not more certain of his "tithe-pig and mortuary guinea." Sunset comes +sooner below than above. The reapers are early home, and the peaks are +still purple when the marauders pour down upon the fields, and their share +of the work is done with a neatness unsurpassable by reiver, ritter or +kateran. The monkey-tax thus collected is quite a calculable percentage of +the crop, and few taxes are more regularly paid. As it goes to +non-producers, its reduction is an object constantly kept in view. The +wretched guns of the natives are, however, but a feeble instrument of +reform. The chassepot may succeed after having finished the rest of its +task, and dispose of the baboons after the settlement of the men. The +former, though not incomparably smaller than the French conscript after a +protracted war, will never be made to bear arms. He is therefore useless to +modern statesmen, and needs to be got rid of. + +While the barn is defrauded by these little vegetarians, the barnyard is +laid under tribute by a family of equally unauthorized flesh-eaters--the +panthers. If this large spotted cat, known in other parts of the world as +ounce, jaguar, leopard and chetah, has any choice of diet, it is for veal. +But his appreciation of kid is none the less lively. Lamb, in season, comes +well to him also. As there are many panthers, each of them of "unbounded +stomach," and they can find little to eat in the way of wild quadrupeds, +the destruction they must cause among domestic animals is seen to be +serious. In the Mokuea neighborhood each village has its panther-killer, an +enterprising man set apart for a profession which sometimes becomes +hereditary. One of these boasts of having killed thirty-six panthers. His +father before him had bagged seventy-five, and he hoped before pulling his +final trigger to have done as well. This expectation was a just one, as at +twenty-eight he had already nearly halved the paternal count. The method of +hunting is very simple. The sportsman fixes a bleating little victim from +the herd at the foot of a tree, and climbs with his flint gun into the +branches. Had the North African beast the arboreal habits of the South +African tree-leopard or the American jaguar, this proceeding would be less +effectual with him. But he can neither climb nor reflect like his +countryman the monkey, and is picked off like a beef. One finds it +difficult to get up sympathy for an animal so little able to take care of +himself, or to suppose that panthers could have furnished a particularly +high-spiced ingredient to the enjoyments of the Roman arena. An English +bull-dog, if less picturesque, would have been far more fruitful of +fighting. + +Products edible neither to the wild beast nor the tooth of time are the +Kabyle vases in clay. The amphorae in common use by the women for carrying +water are generally of graceful forms, comparing well in design with many +of the archaic vases of Greece and the Levant. The patterns vary somewhat +with the locality, but there is a resemblance which speaks of a common +origin and taste. Those of the Beni-Raten all come to a blunt point at the +bottom, and will not stand unsupported. The jar is made to rest upon the +girdle of the bearer, while she supports it upon her back by one or both of +the handles. Among the tribes nearer the Djurjura the jar has a broader and +hollowed bottom, fitted to rest upon the head of the woman. It must +therefore be less elongated and more rotund to admit of her reaching the +handles for the purpose of balancing it. These jars weigh, filled with +water, sixty pounds. In carrying one of them a Kabyle woman, it may easily +be supposed, is not in a condition to study lightness of step or grace of +carriage. Yet this heavy task, to which she begins to accustom herself at +the age of twelve, does not appear to injure her figure or health. Such a +result is more often due to violent and exceptional strains than to +habitual exertion even greater in extent. The muscles are not less +susceptible of education than the mind. Whatever brings out the full power +of either without suddenly overtasking is healthy and beneficial. + +It has been remarked that the most usual size of the Kabyle water-jar is as +nearly as possible identical with the amphora kept for a standard measure +in the Capitol at Rome. This coincidence may well be due rather to a +correspondence in the average strength of the carriers than to a common +system of authorized measures. In decoration the Kabyle vases approach the +Arabic more than the Roman style. But the feeling, both in form and +coloring, is decidedly more artistic than in the similar ware of Northern +Europe. + +Very ancient influences are manifest, too, in the work of the Kabyle +silversmiths. Their diadems, ear-drops, bracelets and anklets remind one +of the forms unearthed at Hissarlik and in Cyprus. In outline and chasing +the rectangular, mathematical and monumental rules at the expense of the +flowing and floriated. A certain pre-Phidian stiffness of handling seems to +hamper the workman, as though twenty-three hundred years had been lost for +him. + +[Illustration: THE BOUDOIR AND KITCHEN.] + +That there should be so much of hopeful force left in the Kabyle, artisan, +agriculturist or adventurer, is creditable to him, and suggests "an +original glory not yet lost." He obstinately refuses to accept the sheer +professional vagabondism of the Arab, confident, as it were, that the world +has in reserve better use for him than that. "Day-dawn in Africa" will +probably gild his hills sooner than the tufted swamps of Guinea or the +slimy huts of the Nile. A class of missionaries quite different from the +Livingstones and the Moffatts have devoted themselves to his improvement. +They approach him in a different way, and begin on his commercial and +industrial side, not on the spiritual. The latter does not appear to be by +any means so accessible. Unlike the Ashantees, the Kafirs and the M'pongwe, +he was a Christian once, and may become one again. But he is not going to +be evangelized on the hurrah system; and that fact his new rulers, with all +their alleged defects as reformers and colonizers, have sense enough to +recognize. The new faith must push its way in the rear of works. Peace, +good government, good roads, better implements and methods of labor will +promote the enlightenment necessary to its success. + +Bougie, the port of Eastern Kabylia, lying under Cape Carbon, has one +Catholic church, standing in the midst of new streets, squares and public +constructions indicative of prosperity wrought by the French regime. It is +still in need of easy communication with the interior, having but one +road--one more than in the time of the Turks. Wax is the chief commodity +traversing that line of traffic. That circumstance has, however, nothing to +do with the name of the town. The name was there when the French came, as +was the wax, and very little else but ruins. If the present state of +improvement has been effected with so little aid from good roads, what +would not a number of them accomplish? A railway running to the other end +of the province longitudinally through its centre would have but one ridge +to overcome, and would find a very fair business ready for it. The railway +and vandalism, in the proverbial sense of the word, could not coexist. +When the Vandals buy railway-tickets and ship fat oxen on fast stock-trains +the African world will move. Nobody ever heard of chronic war between two +adjacent railroad-stations, or of a gang of raiders dressed only in shirts +and armed with spears and matchlocks going out on the morning mail for a +day's shooting among their fellow-countrymen in the next county. + +Let us quote a sketch of the region lying a few leagues west and north-west +of Bougie: + +"Near Tarourt we found thermal springs. An open park-like country, +beautiful with trees and turf, is defaced only by charred spots where the +cork-woods have been burned by the natives to effect clearings much less in +extent than the space thus denuded. Ten acres of cork trees will be +thoughtlessly burned to make one of fig-orchard. And this evil rather +increases than lessens, prevention being difficult by reason of the want of +good roads for reaching the delinquents.... In six hours' march we reached +Toudja, at the foot of Mount Arbalon, in the most delicious oasis +imaginable. The soil, threaded by clear and cool rivulets which spring in +abundance from the rocks forming the base of the mountain, is wonderfully +fertile. We are surrounded by more than a square league of tufted verdure, +composed in great part of orange and lemon groves, mingled with some palms +and immense carob trees. The houses are well built, and even show fancy in +their designs. Vines bending with enormous clusters of grapes festoon +themselves from tree to tree, tasselling the topmost branches with fruit +and tendrils. It is not uncommon to see four or five large trees taken +possession of by a single vine, its trunk as large as the body of a man. +The grapes are mostly of a light-red color, large and sweet." + +[Illustration: REPOSE.] + +All this indicates that France did not deceive herself as to the +capabilities of Algeria, and that her conquest of it was inspired by +considerations more solid than the glory she has been accused of +recognizing as an all-sufficient motive. She has made the country much +more valuable to the commerce of the world than any other part of Barbary. +Had she done nothing more with it than hold it prostrate and put an end to +its existence as a den of pirates, she would by that alone have earned the +gratitude of the nations. She has done a great deal more. European +civilization has discovered a penetrable spot in the dense armor of +African barbarism. It has effected a lodgment in the darkest and most +hopeless of the continents. Should the movement fail, like so many before +it, to extend itself, and become localized after a period of promise, the +cause must be sought mainly in natural obstacles almost impossible to be +overcome. + +To have lifted the dead, brutal weight of Ottoman tyranny from any corner +of the broad territory it blasts is to deserve well of humanity. Still +stronger is the case when the rescued territory is fertile, beautiful, and +inhabited by a race worthy of a better fate than the bondage against which +it had never ceased to struggle. + +France has not been guiltless of acts of severity, always attendant, in a +greater or less degree, on violent political changes. It is not doubtful, +nevertheless, that by repressing the endless turbulence of the tribes and +driving out a foreign rule that knew no law but force, she has saved many +more lives than she has taken. A genius for organization was never denied +her. Organization was the first thing wanted in Algeria. + +EDWARD C. BRUCE. + + + + +"FOR PERCIVAL." + +CHAPTER I. + +THORNS AND ROSES. + + +It was a long, narrow and rather low room, with four windows looking out on +a terrace. Jasmine and roses clustered round them, and flowers lifted their +heads to the broad sills. Within, the lighted candles showed furniture that +was perhaps a little faded and dim, though it had a slender, old-fashioned +grace which more than made amends for any beauty it had lost. There was +much old china, and on the walls were a few family portraits, of which +their owner was justly proud; and in the air there lingered a faint +fragrance of dried rose-leaves, delicate yet unconquerable. Even the full +tide of midsummer sweetness which flowed through the open windows could not +altogether overcome that subtle memory of summers long gone by. + +The master of the house, with a face like a wrinkled waxen mask, sat in his +easy-chair reading the _Saturday Review_, and a lady very like him, only +with a little more color and fulness, was knitting close by. The light +shone on the old man's pale face and white hair, on the old lady's +silver-gray dress and flashing rings: the knitting-pins clicked, working up +the crimson wool, and the pages of the paper rustled with a pleasant +crispness as they were turned. By the window, where the candlelight faded +into the soft shadows, stood a young man apparently lost in thought. His +face, which was turned a little toward the garden, was a noteworthy one +with its straight forehead and clearly marked, level brows. His features +were good, and his clear olive complexion gave him something of a foreign +air. He had no beard, and his moustache was only a dark shadow on his upper +lip, so that his mouth stood revealed as one which indicated reserve, +though it was neither stern nor thin-lipped. Altogether, it was a pleasant +face. + +A light step sauntering along the terrace, a low voice softly singing +"Drink to Me only with Thine Eyes," roused him from his reverie. He did not +move, but his mouth and eyes relaxed into a smile as a white figure came +out of the dusk exactly opposite his window, and singer and song stopped +together. "Oh, Percival! I didn't know you had come out of the +dining-room." + +"Twenty minutes ago. What have you been doing?" + +"Wandering about the garden. What could I do on such a perfect night but +what I have been doing all this perfect day?" + +She stood looking up at him as she spoke. She had an arch, beautiful +face--the sort of face which would look well with patches and powder. Only +it would have been a sin to powder the hair, which, though deep brown, had +rich touches of gold, as if a happy sunbeam were imprisoned in its waves. +Her eyes were dark, her lips were softly red: everything about Sissy +Langton's face was delicate and fine. She lifted her hand to reach a spray +of jasmine just above her head, and the lace sleeve above fell back from +her pretty, slender wrist: "Give it to me. Percival! do you hear? Oh, what +a tease you are!" For he drew it back when she would have gathered it. Mrs. +Middleton was heard making a remark inside. + +"You don't deserve it," said Percival. "Here is my aunt saying that the hot +weather makes you scandalously idle." + +"Scandalously idle! Aunt Harriet!" Sissy repeated it in incredulous +amusement, and the old lady's indignant disclaimer was heard: "Percival! +Most unusually idle, I said." + +"Oh! most unusually idle? I beg your pardon. But doesn't that imply a +considerable amount of idleness to be got through by one person?" + +"Yes, but you helped me," said Sissy.--"Aunt Harriet, listen. He stood on +my thimble ever so long while he was talking this afternoon. How can I work +without a thimble?" + +"Impossible!" said Percival. "And I don't think I can get you another +to-morrow: I am going out. On Thursday I shall come back and bring you one +that won't fit. Friday you must go with me to change it. Yes, we shall +manage three days' holiday very nicely." + +"Nonsense! But it _is_ your fault if I am idle." + +"Why, yes. Having no thimble, you are naturally unable to finish your book, +for instance." + +"Oh, I sha'n't finish that: I don't like it. The heroine is so dreadfully +strong-minded I don't believe in her. She never does anything wrong; and +though she suffers tortures--absolute agony, you know--she always rises to +the occasion--nasty thing!" + +"A wonderful woman," said Percival, idly picking sprays of jasmine as he +spoke. + +Sissy's voice sank lower: "Do you think there are really any women like +that?" + +"Oh yes, I suppose so." + +She took the flowers which he held out, and looked doubtfully into his +face: "But--do you _like_ them, Percival?" + +"Make the question a little clearer," he said. "I don't like your ranting, +pushing, unwomanly women who can talk of nothing but their rights. They are +very terrible. But heroic women--" He stopped short. The pause was more +eloquent than speech. + +"Ah!" said Sissy, "Well--a woman like Jael? or Judith?" + +He repeated the name "Judith." "Or Charlotte Corday?" he suggested after a +moment. + +It was Sissy's turn to hesitate, and she compressed her pretty lips +doubtfully. Being in the Old Testament, Jael must of course come out all +right, even if one finds it difficult to like her. Judith's position, is +less clear. Still, it is a great thing to be in the Apocrypha, and then +living so long ago and so far away makes a difference. But Charlotte +Corday--a young Frenchwoman, not a century dead, who murdered a man, and +was guillotined in those horrible revolutionary times,--would Percival say +_that_ was the type of woman he liked? + +"Well--Charlotte Corday, then?" + +"Yes, I admire her," he said slowly. "Though I would rather the heroism did +not show itself in bloodshed. Still, she was noble: I honor her. I dare say +the others were too, but I don't know so much about them." + +"What a poor little thing you must think me!" said Sissy. "I could never do +anything heroic." + +"Why not?" + +"I should be frightened. I can't bear people to be angry with me. I should +run away, or do something silly." + +"Then I hope you won't be tried," said Percival. + +She shook her pretty head: "People always talk about casting gold into the +furnace, and it's coming out only the brighter and better. Things are not +good for much if you would rather they were not tried." + +Her hand was on the window-frame as she spoke, and the young man touched a +ring she wore: "Gold is tried in the furnace--yes, but not your pearls. +Besides, I'm not so sure that you would fail if you were put to the test." + +She smiled, well pleased, yet unconvinced. + +"You think," he went on, "that people who did great deeds did them without +an effort--were always ready, like a bow always strung? No, no, Sissy: they +felt very weak sometimes. Isn't there anything in the world you think you +could die for? Even if you say 'No' now, there may be something one of +these days." + +The twilight hid the soft glow which overspread her face. "Anything in the +world you could die for?" Anything? Anybody? Her blood flowed in a strong, +courageous current as her heart made answer, "Yes--for one." + +But she did not speak, and after a moment her companion changed the +subject. "That's a pretty ring," he said. + +Sissy started from her reverie: "Horace gave it me. Adieu, Mr. Percival +Thorne: I'm going to look at my roses." + +"Thank you. Yes, I shall be delighted to come." And Percival jumped out. +"Don't look at me as if I'd said something foolish. Isn't that the right +way to answer your kind invitation?" + +"Invitation! What next?" demanded Sissy with pretty scorn. And the pair +went off together along the terrace and into the fragrant dusk. + +A minute later it occurred to Mrs. Middleton to fear that Sissy might take +cold, and she went to the window to look after her. But, as no one was to +be seen, she turned away and encountered her brother, who had been watching +them too. "Do they care for each other?" he asked abruptly. + +"How can I tell?" Mrs. Middleton replied. "Of course she is fond of him in +a way, but I can't help fancying sometimes that Horace--" + +"Horace!" Mr. Thorne's smile was singularly bland. "Oh, indeed! Horace--a +charming arrangement! Pray how many more times is Mr. Horace to supplant +that poor boy?" His soft voice changed suddenly, as one might draw a sword +from its sheath. "Horace had better not cross Percival's path, or he will +have to deal with me. Is he not content? What next must he have?" + +Mrs. Middleton paused. She could have answered him. There was an obvious +reply, but it was too crushing to be used, and Mr. Thorne braved it +accordingly. + +"Better leave your grandsons alone, Godfrey," she said at last, "if you'll +take my advice; which I don't think you ever did yet. You'll only make +mischief. And there is Sissy to be considered. Let the child choose for +herself." + +"And you think she can choose--_Horace?_" + +"Why not?" + +"Choose Horace rather than Percival?" + +"I should," said the old lady with smiling audacity. "And I would rather +she did. Horace's position is better." + +Mr. Thorne uttered something akin to a grunt, which might by courtesy be +taken for a groan: "Oh, how mercenary you women are! Well, if you marry a +man for his money, Horace has the best of it--if he behaves himself. Yes, I +admit that--_if he behaves himself_"' + +"And Horace is handsomer," said Mrs. Middleton with a smile. + +"Pink-and-white prettiness!" scoffed Mr. Thorne. + +"Nonsense!" The color mounted to the old lady's forehead, and she spoke +sharply: "We didn't hear anything about that when he was a lad, and we were +afraid of something amiss with his lungs: it would have been high treason +to say a syllable against him then. And now, though I suppose he will +always be a little delicate (you'd be sorry if you lost him, Godfrey), it's +a shame to talk as if the boys were not to be compared. They are just of a +height, not half an inch difference, and the one as brave and manly as the +other. Horace is fair, and Percival is dark; and you know, as well as I do, +that Horace is the handsomer." + +Mr. Thorne shifted his ground: "If I were Sissy I would choose my husband +for qualities that are rather more than skin-deep." + +"By all means. And still I would choose Horace." + +"What is amiss with Percival?" + +"He is not so frank and open. I don't want to say anything against him--I +like Percival--but I wish he were not quite so reserved." + +"What next?" said Mr. Thorne with a short laugh. "Why, only this morning +you said he talked more than Horace." + +"Talked? Oh yes, Percival can talk, and about himself too," said Mrs. +Middleton with a smile. "But he can keep his secrets all the time. I don't +want to say anything against him: I like him very much--" + +"No doubt," said Mr. Thorne. + +"But I don't feel quite sure that I know him. He isn't like Horace. You +know Horace's friends--" + +"Trust me for that." + +"But what do you know of Percival's? I heard him tell Sissy he would be out +to-morrow. Will you ever know where he went?" + +"I sha'n't ask him." + +"No," she retorted, "you dare not! Isn't it a rule that no one is ever to +question Percival?" + +"And while I'm master here it shall be obeyed. It's the least I can do. The +boy shall come and go, speak or hold his tongue, as he pleases. No one +shall cross him--Horace least of all--while I'm master here, Harriet; but +that won't be very long." + +"I don't want you to think any harm of Percival's silence," she answered +gently. "I don't for one moment suppose he has any secrets to be ashamed +of. I myself like people to be open, that is all." + +"If I wanted to know anything Percival would tell me," said Mr. Thorne. + +Mrs. Middleton's charity was great. She hid the smile she could not +repress. "Well," she said, "perhaps I am not fair to Percival, but, +Godfrey, you are not quite just to Horace." + +He turned upon her: "Unjust to Horace? _I?_" + +She knew what he meant. He had shown Horace signal favor, far above his +cousin, yet what she had said was true. Perhaps some of the injustice had +been in this very favor. "Here are our truants!" she exclaimed. She and her +brother had not talked so confidentially for years, but the moment her eyes +fell on Sissy her thoughts went back to the point at which Mr. Thorne had +disturbed them: "My dearest Sissy, I am so afraid you will catch cold." + +"It can't be done to-night," said Percival. "Won't you come and try?" But +the old lady shook her head. + +"All right, auntie! we won't stop out," said Sissy; and a moment later she +made her appearance in the drawing-room with her hands full of roses, which +she tossed carelessly on the table. Mr. Thorne had picked up his paper, and +stood turning the pages and pretending to read, but she pushed it aside to +put a rosebud in his coat. + +"Roses are more fit for you young people than for an old fellow like me," +he said, "Why don't you give one to Percival?" + +She looked over her shoulder at young Thorne. "Do you want one?" she said. + +He smiled, with a slight movement of his head and his dark eyes fixed on +hers. + +"Then, why didn't you pick one when we were out? Now, weren't you foolish? +Well, never mind. What color?" + +"Choose for him," said Mr. Thorne. + +Sissy hesitated, looking from Percival's face to a bud of deepest crimson. +Then, throwing it down, "No, you shall have yellow," she exclaimed: "Laura +Falconer's complexion is something like yours, and she always wears yellow. +As soon as one yellow dress is worn out she gets another." + +"She is a most remarkable young woman if she waits till the first one is +worn out," said Percival. + +"Am I to put your rose in or not?" Sissy demanded. + +He stepped forward with a smile, and looked darkly handsome as he stood +there with Sissy putting the yellow rose in his coat and glancing archly up +at him. + +Mr. Thorne from behind his _Saturday Review_ watched the girl who might, +perhaps, hold his favorite's future in her hands. "Does he care for her?" +he wondered. If he did, the old man felt that he would gladly have knelt to +entreat her, "Be good to my poor Percival." But did Percival want her to be +good to him? Godfrey Thorne was altogether in the dark about his grandson's +wishes in the matter. He tried hard not to think that he was in the dark +about every wish or hope of Percival's, and he looked up eagerly when the +latter said something about going out the next day. He remembered which +horse Percival liked, he assented to everything, but he watched him all the +time with a wistful curiosity. He did not really care where Percival went, +but he would have given much for such a word about his plans as would have +proved to Harriet, and to himself too, that his boy _did_ confide in him +sometimes. It was not to be, however. Young Thorne had taken up the local +paper and the subject dropped. Mr. Thorne may have guessed later, but he +never knew where his roan horse went the next day. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +"THOSE EYES OF YOURS." + + +Not five miles away that same evening a conversation was going on which +would have interested Mrs. Middleton. + +The scene was an up-stairs room in a pleasant house near the county town. +Mrs. Blake, a woman of seven or eight and forty, handsome and well +preserved, but of a high-colored type, leant back in an easy-chair lazily +unfastening her bracelets, by way of signifying that she had begun to +prepare for the night. Her two daughters were with her. Addie, the elder, +was at the looking-glass brushing her hair and half enveloped in its silky +blackness. She was a tall, graceful girl, a refined likeness of her mother. +On the rug lay Lottie, three years younger, hardly more than a growing +girl, long-limbed, slight, a little abrupt and angular by her sister's +side, her features not quite so regular, her face paler in its cloud of +dark hair. Yet there was a look of determination and power which was +wanting in Addie; and at times, when Lottie was roused, her eyes had a dark +splendor which made her sister's beauty seem comparatively commonplace and +tame. + +Stretched at full length, she propped her chin on her hands and looked up +at her mother. "I don't suppose you care," she said, in a clear, almost +boyish voice. + +"Not much," Mrs. Blake replied with, a smile. "Especially as I rather doubt +it." + +Addie paused, brush in hand: "I really think you've made a mistake, +Lottie." + +"Do you really? I haven't, though," said that young lady decidedly. + +"It can't be--surely," Addie hesitated, with a little shadow on her face. + +"Of course no. Is it likely?" said Mrs. Blake, as if the discussion were +closed. + +"I tell you," said Lottie stubbornly, "Godfrey Hammond told me that +Percival's father was the eldest son." + +"But it is Horace who has always lived at Brackenhill. Percival only goes +on a visit now and then. Every one knows," said Addie, in almost an injured +tone, "that Horace is the heir." + +Lottie raised her head a little and eyed her sister intently, with +amusement, wonder, and a little scorn in her glance. Addie, blissfully +unconscious, went on brushing her hair, still with that look of anxious +perplexity. + +"This is how it was," Lottie exclaimed suddenly. "Percival was just gone, +and you were talking to Horace. Up comes Godfrey Hammond, sits down by me, +and says some rubbish about consoling me. I think I laughed. Then he looked +at me out of his little, light eyes, and said that you and I seemed to get +on well with his young friends. So I said, 'Oh yes--middling.'" + +"Upon my word," smiled Mrs. Blake, "you appear to have distinguished +yourself in the conversation." + +"Didn't I?" said Lottie, untroubled and unabashed: "I know it struck me so +at the time. Then he said something--I forget how he put it--about our +being just the right number and pairing off charmingly. So I said, 'Oh, of +course the elder ones went together: that was only right.'" + +"And what did he say?" + +"Oh, he pinched his lips together and smiled, and said, 'Don't you know +that Percival is the elder?'" + +"But, Lottie, that proves nothing as to his father." + +"Who supposed it did? I said 'Fiddlededee! I didn't mean that: I supposed +they were much about the same age, or if Percy were a month or two older it +made no difference. I meant that Horace was the eldest son's son, so of +course he was A 1.'" + +"Well?" said Addie. + +"Well, then he looked twice as pleased with himself as he did before, and +said, 'I don't think Horace told you that. It so happens that Percival is +not only the elder by a month or two, as you say, but he is the son of the +eldest son.' Then I said 'Oh!' and mamma called me for something, and I +went." + +Mrs. Blake and Addie exchanged glances. + +"Now, could I have made a mistake?" demanded Lottie. + +"It seems plain enough, certainly," her mother allowed. + +"Then, could Godfrey Hammond have made a mistake? Hasn't he known the +Thornes all their lives? and didn't he say once that he was named Godfrey +after their old grandfather?" + +Mrs. Blake assented. + +"Then," said the girl, relapsing into her recumbent position, "perhaps +you'll believe me another time." + +"Perhaps," said Mrs. Blake: "we'll see when the other time comes. If it is +as you say, it is curious." She rose as she spoke and went to the farther +end of the room. As she stood by an open drawer putting away the ornaments +which she had taken off, the candlelight revealed a shadow of perplexity +on her face which increased the likeness between herself and Addie. +Apparently, Lottie was right as to her facts. The estate was not entailed, +then, and despotic power seemed to be rather capriciously exercised by the +head of the house. If Horace should displease his grandfather--if, for +instance, he chose a wife of whom old Mr. Thorne did not approve--would his +position be very secure? Mrs. Blake was uneasy, and felt that it was very +wrong of people to play tricks with the succession to an estate like +Brackenhill. + +Meanwhile, Lottie watched her sister, who was thoughtfully drawing her +fingers through her long hair. "Addie," she said, after a pause, "what will +you do if Horace isn't the heir after all?" + +"What a silly question! I shan't do anything: there's nothing for me to +do." + +"But shall you mind very much? You are very fond of Horace, aren't you?" + +"Fond of him!" Addie repeated. "He is very pleasant to talk to, if you mean +that." + +"Oh, you can't deceive me so! I believe that you are in love with him," +said Lottie solemnly. + +The color rushed to Addie's face when her vaguely tender sentiments, +indefinite as Horace's attentions, were described in this startling +fashion. "Indeed, I'm nothing of the kind," she said hurriedly. "Pray don't +talk such utter nonsense, Lottie. If you have nothing more sensible to say, +you had better hold your tongue." + +"But why are you ashamed of it?" Lottie persisted: "I wouldn't be." She had +an unsuspected secret herself, but she would have owned it proudly enough +had she been challenged. + +"I'm not ashamed," said Addie; "and you know nothing about being in love, +so you had better not talk about it." + +"Oh yes, I do!" was the reply, uttered with Lottie's calm simplicity of +manner: "I know how to tell whether you are in love or not, Addie. What +would you do if a girl were to win Horace Thorne away from you?" + +Pride and a sense of propriety dictated Addie's answer and gave sharpness +to her voice: "I should say she was perfectly welcome to him." + +Lottie considered for a moment: "Yes, I suppose one might _say_ so to her, +but what would you do? Wouldn't you want to kill her? And wouldn't you die +of a broken heart?" + +Addie was horrified: "I don't want to kill anybody, and I'm not going to +die for Mr. Horace Thorne. Please don't say such things, Lottie: people +never do. You forget he is only an acquaintance." + +"No; I don't think you are in love with him, certainly." Lottie pronounced +this decision with the air of one who has solved a difficult problem. + +"What are you talking about?" Mrs. Blake inquired, coming back, and +glancing from Addie's flushed and troubled face to Lottie's thoughtful +eyes. + +"I was asking Addie if she didn't want Horace to be the heir. I know you +do, mamma--oh, just for his own sake, because you think he's the nicest, +don't you? I heard you tell him one day "--here Lottie looked up with a +candid gaze and audaciously imitated Mrs. Blake's manner--"that though we +knew his cousin _first_, he--Horace, you know--seemed to drop _so_ +naturally into _all_ our ways that it was quite _delightful_ to feel that +we needn't stand on _any_ ceremony with him." + +"Good gracious, Lottie! what do you mean by listening to every word I say?" + +"I didn't listen--I heard," said Lottie. "I always do hear when you say +your words as if they had little dashes under them." + +"Well, Horace Thorne _is_ easier to get on with than his cousin," said Mrs. +Blake, taking no notice of Lottie's mimicry. + +"There, I said so: mamma would like it to be Horace. Nobody asks what I +should like--nobody thinks about me and Percival." + +"Oh, indeed! I wasn't aware," said Mrs. Blake. "When is that to come off? I +dare say you will look very well in orange-blossoms and a pinafore!" + +"Oh, you think I'm too young, do you? But a little while ago you were +always saying that I was grown up, and oughtn't to want any more childish +games. What was I to do?" + +"Upon my word!" exclaimed Mrs. Blake. "I'll buy you a doll for a birthday +present, to keep you out of mischief." + +"Too late," said Lottie from the rug. She burst into sudden laughter, loud +but not unmelodious. "What rubbish we are talking! Seventeen to-morrow, and +Addie is nearly twenty; and sometimes I think I must be a hundred!" + +"Well, you are talking nonsense now," Mrs. Blake exclaimed. "Why, you baby! +only last November you would go into that wet meadow by the rectory to play +trap-and-ball with Robin and Jack. And such a fuss as there was if one +wanted to make you the least tidy and respectable!" + +"Was that last November?" Lottie stared thoughtfully into space. "Queer +that last November should be so many years ago, isn't it? Poor little Cock +Robin! I met him in the lane the day before he went away. They will keep +him in jackets, and he hates them so! I laughed at him, and told him to be +a good little boy and mind his book. He didn't seem to like it, somehow." + +"I dare say he didn't," said Addie, who had been silently recovering +herself: "there's no mistake about it when you laugh at any one." + +"There shall be no mistake about anything I do," Lottie asserted. "I'm +going to bed now." She sprang to her feet and stood looking at her sister: +"What jolly hair you've got, Addie!" + +"Yours is just as thick, or thicker," said Addie. + +"Each individual hair is a good deal thicker, if you mean that. +'Blue-black, lustrous, thick like horse-hairs!' That's what Percy quoted to +me one day when I was grumbling, and I said I wasn't sure he wasn't rude. +Addie, are Horace and Percival fond of each other?" + +"How can I tell? I suppose so." + +"I have my doubts," said Lottie sagely. "Why should they be? There must be +something queer, you know, or why doesn't that stupid old man at +Brackenhill treat Percival as the eldest? Well, good-night." And Lottie +went off, half saying, half singing, "Who killed Cock Robin? I, said the +Sparrow--with my bow and arrow." And with a triumphant outburst of "_I_ +killed Cock Robin!" she banged the door after her. + +There was a pause. Then Addie said, "Seventeen to-morrow! Mamma, Lottie +really is grown-up now." + +"Is she?" Mrs. Blake replied doubtfully. "Time she should be, I'm sure." + +Lottie had been a sore trial to her mother. Addie was pretty as a child, +tolerably presentable even at her most awkward age, glided gradually into +girlhood and beauty, and finally "came out" completely to Mrs. Blake's +satisfaction. But Lottie at fifteen or sixteen was her despair--"Exactly +like a great unruly boy," she lamented. She dashed through her lessons +fairly well, but the moment she was released she was unendurable. She +whistled, she sang at the top of her voice, and plunged about the house in +her thick boots, till she could be off to join the two boys at the rectory, +her dear friends and comrades. Robin Wingfield, the elder, was her junior +by rather more than a year; and this advantage, especially as she was tall +and strong for her age, enabled her fully to hold her own with them. Nor +could Mrs. Blake hinder this friendship, as she would gladly have done, for +her husband was on Lottie's side. + +"Let the girl alone," he said. "Too big for this sort of thing? Rubbish! +The milliner's bills will come in quite soon enough. And what's amiss with +Robin and Jack? Good boys as boys go, and she's another; and if they like +to scramble over hedges and ditches together, let them. For Heaven's sake, +Caroline, don't attempt to keep her at home: she'll certainly drive me +crazy if you do. No one ever banged doors as Lottie does: she ought to +patent the process. Slams them with a crash which jars the whole house, and +yet manages not to latch them, and the moment she is gone they are swinging +backward and forward till I'm almost out of my senses. Here she comes down +stairs, like a thunderbolt.--Lottie, my dear girl, I'm sure it's going to +be fine: better run out and look up those Wingfield boys, I think." + +So the trio spent long half-holidays rambling in the fields; and on these +occasions Lottie might be met, an immense distance from home, in the +shabbiest clothes and wearing a red cap of Robin's tossed carelessly on her +dark hair. Percival once encountered them on one of these expeditions. +Lottie's beauty was still pale and unripe, like those sheathed buds which +will come suddenly to their glory of blossom, not like rosebuds which have +a loveliness of their own; but the young man was struck by the boyish +mixture of shyness and bluntness with which she greeted him, and attracted +by the great eyes which gazed at him from under Robin's shabby cap. When he +and Horace went to the Blakes' he amused himself idly enough with the +school-girl, while his cousin flirted with Addie. He laughed one day when +Mrs. Blake was unusually troubled about Lottie's apparel, and said +something about "a sweet neglect." But the soul of Lottie's mamma was not +to be comforted with scraps of poetry. How could it be, when she had just +arraigned her daughter on the charge of having her pockets bulging +hideously, and had discovered that those receptacles overflowed with a +miscellaneous assortment of odds and ends, the accumulations of weeks, +tending to show that Lottie and Cock Robin, as she called him, had all +things in common? How could it be, when Lottie was always outgrowing her +garments in the most ungainly manner, so that her sleeves seemed to retreat +in horror from her wrists and from her long hands, tanned by sun and wind, +seamed with bramble-scratches and smeared with school-room ink? Once Lottie +came home with an unmistakable black eye, for which Robin's cricket-ball +was accountable. Then, indeed, Mrs. Blake felt that her cup of bitterness +was full to overflowing, though Lottie did assure her, "You should have +seen Jack's eye last April: his was much more swollen, and all sorts of +colors, than mine." It was impossible to avoid the conclusion that Jack +must have been, to say the least of it, unpleasant to look at. Percival +happened to come to the house just then, and was tranquilly amused at the +good lady's despair. It was before the Blakes knew much of Horace, and she +had not yet discovered that Percival's cousin was so much more friendly +than Percival himself; so she made the latter her confidant. He recommended +a raw beefsteak with a gravity worthy of a Spanish grandee. He was not +allowed to see Lottie, who was kept in seclusion as being half culprit, +half invalid, and wholly unpresentable; but as he was going away the +servant gave him a little note in Lottie's boyish scrawl: + + "DEAR PERCIVAL: Mamma was cross with Robin and sent him away + do tell him I'm all right, and he is not to mind he will be + sure to be about somewhere It is very stupid being shut up + here Addie says she can't go running about giving messages + to boys and Papa said if he saw him he should certainly + punch his head so please tell him he is not to bother + himself about me I shall soon be all right." + +Percival went away, smiling a little at his letter and at Lottie herself. +Just as he reached the first of the fields which were the short cut from +the house, he spied Robin lurking on the other side of the hedge, with Jack +at his heels. He halted, and called "Robin! Robin Wingfield! I want to +speak to you." + +The boy hesitated: "There's a gate farther on." + +Coming to the gate, Percival rested his arms on it and looked at Robin. The +boy was not big for his age, but there was a good deal of cleverness in his +upturned freckled face. "I've a message for you," said the young man. + +"From her?" Robin indicated the Blakes' house with a jerk of his head. + +"Yes. She asked me to tell you that she is all right, though, of course, +she can't come out at present. She made sure I should find you somewhere +about." + +Robin nodded: "I did try to hear how she was, but that old dragon--" + +"Meaning my friend Mrs. Blake?" said young Thorne. "Ah! Hardly civil +perhaps, but forcible." + +"Well--Mrs. Blake, then--caught me in the shrubbery and pitched into me. +Said I ought to be ashamed of myself. Supposed I should be satisfied when +I'd broken Lottie's neck. Told me I'd better not show my face there again." + +"Well," said Percival, "you couldn't expect Mrs. Blake to be particularly +delighted with your afternoon's work. And, Wingfield, though I was +especially to tell you that you were not to vex yourself about it, you +really ought to be more careful. Knocking a young lady's eye half out--" + +"Young lady!" in a tone of intense scorn. "Lottie isn't a _young lady_." + +"Oh! isn't she?" said Percival. + +"I should think not, indeed!" And Robin eyed the big young man who was +laughing at him as if he meditated wiping out the insult to Lottie then and +there. But even with Jack, his sturdy satellite, to help, it was not to be +thought of. "She's a brick!" said Cock Robin, half to himself. + +"No doubt," said Percival. "But, as I was saying, it isn't exactly the way +to treat her.--At least--I don't know: upon my word, I don't know," he +soliloquized. "Judging by most women's novels, from _Jane Eyre_ downward, +the taste for muscular bullies prevails. Robin may be the coming hero--who +knows?--and courtship commencing with a black eye the future +fashion.--Well, Robin, any answer?" + +"Tell her I hope she'll soon be all right. Shall you see her?" + +"I can see that she gets any message you want to send." + +Robin groped among his treasures: "Look here: I brought away her knife that +afternoon. She lent it me. She'd better have it--it's got four blades--she +may want it, perhaps." + +Percival dropped the formidable instrument carelessly into his pocket: "She +shall have it. And, Robin, you'd better not be hanging about here: Lottie +says so. You'll only vex Mrs. Blake." + +"All right!" said the boy, and went off, with Jack after him. + +Percival, who was staying in the neighborhood, went straight home, tied up +a parcel of books he thought might amuse Lottie in her imprisonment, and +wrote a note to go with them. He was whistling softly to himself as he +wrote, and, if the truth be told, had a fair vision floating before his +eyes--a girl of whom Lottie had reminded him by sheer force of contrast. +Still, he liked Lottie in her way. He was young enough to enjoy the easy +sense of patronage and superiority which made the words flow so pleasantly +from his pen. Never had Lottie seemed to him so utterly a child as +immediately after his talk with her boy-friend. + +"Here are some books," said the hurrying pen, "which I think you will like +if your eye is not so bad as to prevent your reading. Robin was keeping his +disconsolate watch close by, as you foretold, and asked anxiously after +you, so I gave him your message and dismissed him. He especially charged me +to send you the enclosed--knife I believe he called it: it looks to me like +a whole armory of deadly weapons--which he seemed to think would be a +comfort to you in your affliction. I sincerely hope it may prove so. I was +very civil to him, remembering that I was your ambassador; but if he isn't +a little less rough with you in future, I shall be tempted to adopt Mr. +Blake's plan if I happen to meet your friend again. You really mustn't let +him damage those eyes of yours in this reckless fashion. Mrs. Blake was +nearly heartbroken this morning." + +He sent his parcel off, and speedily ceased to think of it. And Lottie +herself might have done the same, not caring much for his books, but for +four little words--"those eyes of yours." Had Percival written "your eyes," +it would have meant nothing, but "those eyes of yours" implied notice--nay, +admiration. Again and again she looked at the thick paper, with the crest +at the top and the vigorous lines of writing below; and again and again the +four words, "those eyes of yours," seemed to spring into ever-clearer +prominence. She hid the letter away with a sudden comprehension of the +roughness of her pencil scrawl which it answered, and began to take pride +in her looks when they least deserved it. Only a day or two before she had +envied Robin the possession of sight a little keener than her own, but now +she smiled to think that Percival Thorne would never have regretted injury +to "those eyes of yours" had she owned Robin's light-gray orbs. + +Her transformation had begun. The knife was still a treasure, but she was +ashamed of her delight in it. She breathed on the shining blades and rubbed +them to brightness again, but she did it stealthily, with a glance over her +shoulder first. She went rambling with Robin and Jack, but not when she +knew that Percival Thorne was in the neighborhood. She was very sure of his +absence on the November day to which her mother had alluded, when she had +insisted on playing trap-and-ball in the rectory meadows. Mrs. Blake did +not realize it, but it was almost the last day of Lottie's old life. At +Christmas-time they were asked to stay for a few days at a friend's house. +There was to be a dance, and the hostess, being Lottie's godmother, +pointedly included her in the invitation; so Mrs. Blake and Addie did what +they could to improve their black sheep's appearance. + +Lottie, dressed for the eventful evening, was left alone for a moment +before the three went down. She felt shy, dispirited and sullen. Her +ball-dress encumbered and constrained her. "I hate it all," she said to +herself, beating impatiently with her foot upon the ground. Something +moving caught her eye: it was her reflection in a mirror. She paused and +gazed in wonder. Was this slender girl, arrayed in a cloud of +semi-transparent white, really herself--the Lottie who only a few days +before had raced Robin Wingfield home across the fields, had been the first +over the gap and through the ditch into the rectory meadow, and had rushed +away with the November rain-drops driving in her face? She gazed on: the +transformation had its charms, after all. But the shadow came back: "It's +no use. Addie's prettier than I ever shall be: I must be second all my +life. Second! If I can't be A 1, I'd as soon be Z 1000! I won't go about +to be a foil to her. I'd ten times rather race with Robin; and I will too! +They sha'n't coop me up and make a young lady of me!" + +She caught the flash of her indignant glance in the glass and paused. + +"_Those eyes of yours!_" + +_Must_ she be second all her life? Had she not a power and witchery of her +own? Might she not even distance Addie in the race? "I've more brains than +she has," mused Lottie. + +Her heart was beating fast as they came down stairs. They had only arrived +by a late train, which gave them just time to dress; and Mrs. Blake had +rather exceeded the allowance, so that most of the guests had arrived and +the first quadrille was nearly ended as they came in. Lottie followed her +mother and Addie as they glided through the crowd, and when they paused she +stood shy and fierce, casting lowering glances around. + +She heard their hostess say to some one, "Do let me find you a partner." + +A well-known voice replied, "Not this time, thank you: I'm going to try to +find one for myself;" and Percival stood before her, looking, to her +girlish fancy, more of a hero than ever in the evening-dress which became +him well. The perfectly-fitting gloves, the flower in his coat, a dozen +little things which she could not define, made her feel uncouth and +anxious, fascinated and frightened, all at once. Had he greeted her in the +patronizing way in which he had talked to her of old, she would have been +deeply wounded, but he asked her for the next dance more ceremoniously, she +knew, than Horace would have asked Addie. Still, she trembled as they moved +off. They had scarcely met since her note to him. Suppose he alluded to it, +asked after her black eye, and inquired whether she had derived any benefit +from the beefsteak? Nothing more natural, and yet if he did Lottie felt +that she should _hate_ him. "I know I should do something dreadful," she +thought--"scratch his face, and then burst out crying, most likely. Oh, +what would become of me? I should be ruined for life! I should have to +shut myself up, never see any one again, and emigrate with Robin directly +he was old enough." + +Percival did not know his danger, but he escaped it. The fatal thoughts +were in his mind while Lottie was planning her disgrace and exile, but he +merely remarked that he liked the first waltz, and should they start at +once or wait a moment till a couple or two dropped out? + +"I don't know whether I _can_ waltz," said Lottie doubtfully. + +"Weren't you over tortured with dancing-lessons?" + +"Oh yes. But I've never tried at a party. Suppose we go bumping up against +everybody, like that fat man and the little lady in pink--the two who are +just stopping?" + +"I assure you," said Percival gravely, "that I do not dance at all like +that fat man. And if you dance like the lady in pink, I shall be more +surprised than I have words to say. Now?" + +They were off. Percival knew that he waltzed well, and had an idea that +Lottie would prove a good partner. Nor was he mistaken. She had been fairly +taught, much against her will, had a good ear for time, and, thanks to many +a race with Robin Wingfield, her energy was almost terrible. They spun +swiftly and silently round, unwearied while other couples dropped out of +the ranks to rest and talk. Percival was well pleased. It is true that he +had memories of waltzes with Sissy Langton of more utter harmony, of +sweeter grace, of delight more perfect, though far more fleeting. But +Lottie, with her steady swiftness and her strong young life, had a charm of +her own which he was not slow to recognize. She would hardly have thanked +him for accurately classifying it, for as she danced she felt that she had +discovered a new joy. Her old life slipped from her like a husk. Friendship +with Cock Robin was an evident absurdity. It is true she was angry with +herself that, after fighting so passionately for freedom, she should +voluntarily bend her proud neck beneath the yoke. She foresaw that her +mother and Addie would triumph; she felt that her bondage to Mrs. Grundy +would often be irksome; but here was the first instalment of her wages in +this long waltz with Percival. She fancied that the secret of her pleasure +lay in the two words--"with Percival." In her ignorance she thought that +she was tasting the honeyed fire of love, when in truth it was the +sweetness of conscious success. Before the last notes of that enchanted +music died away she had cast her girlish devotion, "half in a rapture and +half in a rage," at her partner's feet, while he stood beside her calm and +self-possessed. He would have been astounded, and perhaps almost disgusted, +had he known what was passing through her mind. + +Love at sixteen is generally only a desire to be in love, and seeks not so +much a fit as a possible object. Probably Lottie's passion offered as many +assurances of domestic bliss as could be desired at her age. + +Percival was dark, foreign-looking and handsome: he had an interesting air +of reserve, and no apparent need to practise small economies. His clothes +fitted him extremely well, and at times he had a way of standing proudly +aloof which was worthy of any hero of romance. No settled occupation would +interfere with picnics and balls; and, to crown all, had he not said to +her, "Those eyes of yours"? Were not these ample foundations for the +happiness of thirty or forty years of marriage? + +Percival, meanwhile, wanted to be kind to the childish, half-tamed Lottie, +who had attracted his notice in the fields and trusted him with her +generous message to Robin Wingfield. The girl fancied herself immensely +improved by her white dress, but had Thorne been a painter he would have +sketched her as a pale vision of Liberty, with loosely-knotted hair and +dark eyes glowing under Robin's red cap. He was able coolly to determine +the precise nature of his pleasure in her society, but he knew that it was +a pleasure. And Lottie, when she fell asleep that night, clasped a card +which was rendered priceless by the frequent recurrence of his initials. + +Her passion transformed her. Her vehement spirit remained, but everything +else was changed. Her old dreams and longings were cast out by the new. She +laughed with Mrs. Blake and Addie, but under the laughter she hid her love, +and cherished it in fierce and solitary silence. Yet even to herself the +transformation seemed so wonderful that she could hardly believe in it, and +acted the rough girl now and then with the idea that otherwise they _must_ +think her a consummate actress morning, noon and night. For some months no +great event marked the record of her unsuspected passion. It might, +perhaps, have run its course, and died out harmlessly in due time, but for +an unlucky afternoon, about a week before her birthday, when Percival +uttered some thoughtless words which woke a tempest of doubt and fear in +Lottie's heart. She did not question his love, but she caught a glimpse of +his pride, and felt as if a gulf had opened between her and her dream of +happiness. + +Percival was calling at the house on the eventful day which was destined to +influence Lottie's fate and his own. He was in a happy mood, well pleased +with things in general, and, after his own fashion, inclined to be +talkative. When visitors arrived and Addie exclaimed, "Mrs. Pickering and +that boy of hers--oh bother!" she spoke the feelings of the whole party; +and Percival from his place by the window looked across at Lottie and +shrugged his shoulders expressively. Had there been time he would have +tried to escape into the garden with his girl friend; but as that was +impossible, he resigned himself to his fate and listened while Mrs. +Pickering poured forth her rapture concerning her son's prospects to Mrs. +Blake. An uncle who was the head of a great London firm had offered the +young man a situation, with an implied promise of a share in the business +later. "Such a subject for congratulation!" the good lady exclaimed, +beaming on her son, who sat silently turning his hat in his hands and +looking very pink. "Such an opening for William! Better than having a +fortune left him, I call it, for it is such a thing to have an occupation. +Every young man should be brought up to something, in my opinion." + +Mrs. Blake, with a half glance at Addie and a thought of Horace, suggested +that heirs to landed estates-- + +"Well, yes." Mrs. Pickering agreed with her. Country gentlemen often found +so much to do in looking after their tenants and making improvements that +she would not say anything about them. But young men with small incomes and +no profession--she should be sorry if a son of hers-- + +"Like me, for instance," said Percival, looking up. "I've a small income +and no profession." + +Mrs. Pickering, somewhat confused, hastened to explain that she meant +nothing personal. + +"Of course not," he said: "I know that. I only mentioned it because I think +an illustration stamps a thing on people's memories." + +"But, Percival," Mrs. Blake interposed, "I must say that in this I agree +with Mrs. Pickering. I do think it would be better if you had something to +do--I do indeed." She looked at him with an air of affectionate severity. +"I speak as your friend, you know." (Percival bowed his gratitude.) "I +really think young people are happier when they have a settled occupation." + +"I dare say that is true, as a rule," he said. + +"But you don't think you would be?" questioned Lottie. + +He turned to her with a smile: "Well, I doubt it. Of course I don't know +how happy I might be if I had been brought up to a profession." He glanced +through the open window at the warm loveliness of June. "At this moment, +for instance, I might have been writing a sermon or cutting off a man's +leg. But, somehow, I am very well satisfied as I am." + +"Oh, if you mean to make fun of it--" Mrs. Blake began. + +"But I don't," Percival said quickly. "I may laugh, but I'm in earnest too. +I have plenty to eat and drink; I can pay my tailor and still have a little +money in my pocket; I am my own master. Sometimes I ride--another man's +horse: if not I walk, and am just as well content. I don't smoke--I don't +bet--I have no expensive tastes. What could money do for me that I should +spend the best years of my life in slaving for it?" + +"That may be all very well for the present," said Mrs. Blake. + +"Why not for the future too? Oh, I have my dream for the future too." + +"And, pray, may one ask what it is?" said Mrs. Pickering, looking down on +him from the height of William's prosperity. + +"Certainly," he said. "Some day I shall leave England and travel leisurely +about the Continent. I shall have a sky over my head compared with which +this blue is misty and pale. I shall gain new ideas. I shall get grapes and +figs and melons very cheap. There will be a little too much garlic in my +daily life--even such a destiny as mine must have its drawbacks--but think +of the wonderful scenery I shall see and the queer, beautiful +out-of-the-way holes and corners I shall discover! And in years to come I +shall rejoice, without envy, to hear that Mr. Blake has bought a large +estate and gains prizes for fat cattle, while my friend here has been +knighted on the occasion of some city demonstration." + +Young Pickering, who had been listening open-mouthed to the other's fluent +and tranquil speech, reddened at the allusion to himself and dropped his +hat. + +"At that rate you must never marry," said Mrs. Blake. + +Percival thoughtfully stroked his lip: "You think I should not find a wife +to share my enjoyment of a small income?" + +"Marry a girl with lots of money, Mr. Thorne," said the future Sir William, +feeling it incumbent on him to take part in the conversation. + +"Not I." Percival's glance made the lad's hot face yet hotter. "That's the +last thing I will do. If a man means to work, he may marry whom he will. +But if he has made up his mind to be idle, he is a contemptible cur if he +will let his wife keep him in his idleness." He spoke very quietly in his +soft voice, and leaned back in his chair. + +"Well, then, you must never fall in love with an heiress," said Mrs. +Blake. + +"Or you must work and win her," Lottie suggested almost in a whisper. + +He smiled, but slightly shook his head with a look which she fancied meant +"Too late." Mrs. Pickering began to tell the latest Fordborough scandal, +and the talk drifted into another channel. + +Lottie had listened as she always listened when Percival spoke, but she had +not attached any peculiar meaning to his words. But an hour or so later, +when he was gone and she was loitering in the garden just outside the +window, Addie, who was within, made some remark in a laughing tone. Lottie +did not catch the words, but Mrs. Blake's reply was distinct and not to be +mistaken: "William Pickering, indeed! No: with your looks and your +expectations you girls ought to marry really well." Lottie stood aghast. +They would have money, then? She had never thought about money. She would +be an heiress? And Percival would never marry an heiress--he could not: had +he not said so? How gladly would she have given him every farthing she +possessed! And was her fortune to be a barrier between them for ever? Every +syllable that he had spoken was made clear by this revelation, and rose up +before her eyes as a terrible word of doom. But she was not one to be +easily dismayed, and her first cry was, "What shall I do?" Lottie's +thoughts turned always to action, not to endurance, and she was resolved to +break down the barrier, let the cost be what it might. Her talk with +Godfrey Hammond gave a new interest to her romance and new strength to her +determination. Since her hero was disinherited and poor, and she, though +rich, would be poor in all she cared to have if she were parted from him, +might she not tell him so when she saw him on her birthday? She thought it +would be easier to speak on the one day when in girlish fashion she would +be queen. She would not think of her own pride, because his pride was dear +to her. She could not tell what she would say or do: she only knew that her +birthday should decide her fate. And her heart was beating fast in hope +and fear the night before when she banged the door after her and went off +to bed, sublimely ready to renounce the world for Percival. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +DEAD MEN TELL NO TALES--ALFRED THORNE'S IS TOLD BY THE WRITER. + + +Mr. Thorne of Brackenhill was a miserable man, who went through the world +with a morbidly sensitive spot in his nature. A touch on it was torture, +and unfortunately the circumstances of his daily life continually chafed +it. + +It was only a common form of selfishness carried to excess. "I don't want +much," he would have said--truly enough, for Godfrey Thorne had never been +grasping--"but let it be my own." He could not enjoy anything unless he +knew that he might waste it if he liked. The highest good, fettered by any +condition, was in his eyes no good at all. Brackenhill was dear to him +because he could leave it to whom he would. He was seventy-six, and had +spent his life in improving his estate, but he prized nothing about it so +much as his right to give the result of his life's work to the first beggar +he might chance to meet. It would have made him still happier if he could +have had the power of destroying Brackenhill utterly, of wiping it off the +face of the earth, in case he could not find an heir who pleased him, for +it troubled him to think that some man _must_ have the land after him, +whether he wished it or not. + +Godfrey Hammond had declared that no one could conceive the exquisite +torments Mr. Thorne would endure if he owned an estate with a magnificent +ruin on it, some unique and priceless relic of bygone days. "He should be +able to see it from his window," said Hammond, "and it should be his, as +far as law could make it, while he should be continually conscious that in +the eyes of all cultivated men he was merely its guardian. People should +write to the newspapers asserting boldly that the public had a right of +free access to it, and old gentlemen with antiquarian tastes should find a +little gap in a fence, and pen indignant appeals to the editor demanding to +be immediately informed whether a monument of national, nay, of world-wide +interest, ought not, for the sake of the public, to be more carefully +protected from injury. Local archaeological societies should come and read +papers in it. Clergymen, wishing to combine a little instruction with the +pleasures of a school-feast, should arrive with van-loads of cheering boys +and girls, a troop of ardent teachers, many calico flags and a brass band. +Artists, keen-eyed and picturesque, each with his good-humored air of +possessing the place so much more truly than any mere country gentleman +ever could, should come to gaze and sketch. Meanwhile, Thorne should remark +about twice a week that of course he could pull the whole thing down if he +liked; to which every one should smile assent, recognizing an evident but +utterly unimportant fact. And then," said Hammond solemnly, "when all the +archaeologists were eating and drinking, enjoying their own theories and +picking holes in their neighbors' discoveries, the bolt should fall in the +shape of an announcement that Mr. Thorne had sold the stones as building +materials, and that the workmen had already removed the most ancient and +interesting part. After which he would go slowly to his grave, dying of his +triumph and a broken heart." + +It was all quite true, though Godfrey Hammond might have added that all the +execrations of the antiquarians would hardly have added to the burden of +shame and remorse of which Mr. Thorne would have felt the weight before the +last cart carried away its load from the trampled sward; that he would have +regretted his decision every hour of his life; and if by a miracle he could +have found himself once more with the fatal deed undone, he would have +rejoiced for a moment, suffered his old torment for a little while, and +then proceeded to do it again. + +For a great part of Mr. Thorne's life the boast of his power over +Brackenhill had been on his lips more frequently than the twice a week of +which Hammond talked. Of late years it had not been so. He had used his +power to assure himself that he possessed it, and gradually awoke to the +consciousness that he had lost it by thus using it. + +He had had three sons--Maurice, a fine, high-spirited young fellow; Alfred, +good-looking and good-tempered, but indolent; James, a slim, sickly lad, +who inherited from his mother a fatal tendency to decline. She died while +he was a baby, and he was petted from that time forward. Godfrey Thorne was +well satisfied with Maurice, but was always at war with his second son, who +would not take orders and hold the family living. They argued the matter +till it was too late for Alfred to go into the army, the only career for +which he had expressed any desire; and then Mr. Thorne found himself face +to face with a gentle and lazy resistance which threatened to be a match +for his own hard obstinacy. Alfred didn't mind being a farmer. But his +father was troubled about the necessary capital, and doubted his son's +success: "You will go on after a fashion for a few years, and then all the +money will have slipped through your fingers. You know nothing of +farming."--"That's true," said Alfred.--"And you are much too lazy to +learn."--"That's very likely," said the young man. So Mr. Thorne looked +about him for some more eligible opening for his troublesome son; and +Alfred meanwhile, with his handsome face and honest smile, was busy making +love to Sarah Percival, the rector's daughter. + +The little idyl was the talk of the villagers before it came to the +squire's ears. When he questioned Alfred the young man confessed it readily +enough. He loved Miss Percival, and she didn't mind waiting. Mr. Thorne was +not altogether displeased, for, though his intercourse with the rector was +rather stormy and uncertain, they happened to be on tolerable terms just +then. Sarah was an only child, and would have a little money at Mr. +Percival's death, and Alfred was much more submissive and anxious to please +his father under these altered circumstances. The young people were not to +consider themselves engaged, Miss Percival being only eighteen and Alfred +one-and-twenty. But if they were of the same mind later, when the latter +should be in a position to marry, it was understood that neither his father +nor Mr. Percival would oppose it. + +Unluckily, a parochial question arose near Christmas-time, and the squire +and the clergyman took different views of it. Mr. Thorne went about the +house with brows like a thunder-cloud, and never opened his lips to Alfred +except to abuse the rector. "You'll have to choose between old Percival and +me one of these days," he said more than once. "You'd better be making up +your mind: it will save time." Alfred was silent. When the strife was at +its height Maurice was drowned while skating. + +The poor fellow was hardly in his grave before the storm burst on Alfred's +head. If Mr. Thorne had barely tolerated the idea of his son's marriage +before, he found it utterly intolerable now; and the decree went forth that +this boyish folly about Miss Percival must be forgotten. "I can do as I +like with Brackenhill," said Mr. Thorne: "remember that." Alfred did +remember it. He had heard it often enough, and his father's angry eyes gave +it an added emphasis. "I can make an eldest son of James if I like, and I +will if you defy me." But nothing could shake Alfred. He had given his word +to Miss Percival, and they loved each other, and he meant to keep to it. +"You don't believe me," his father thundered: "you think I may talk, but +that I sha'n't do it. Take care!" There was no trace of any conflict on +Alfred's face: he looked a little dull and heavy under the bitter storm, +but that was all. "I can't help it, sir," he said, tracing the pattern of +the carpet with the toe of his boot as he stood: "you will do as you +please, I suppose."--"I suppose I shall," said Mr. Thorne. + +So Alfred was disinherited. "As well for this as anything else," he said: +"we couldn't have got on long." He had an allowance from his father, who +declined to take any further interest in his plans. He went abroad for a +couple of years--a test which Mr. Percival imposed upon him that nothing +might be done in haste--and came back, faithful as he went, to ask for the +consent which could no longer be denied. Mr. Percival had been presented to +a living at some distance from Brackenhill, and, as there was a good deal +of glebe-land attached to it, Alfred was able to try his hand at farming. +He did so, with a little loss if no gain, and they made one household at +the rectory. + +He never seemed to regret Brackenhill. Sarah--dark, ardent, intense, a +strange contrast to his own fair, handsome face and placid +indolence--absorbed all his love. Her eager nature could not rouse him to +battle with the world, but it woke a passionate devotion in his heart: they +were everything to each other, and were content. When their boy was born +the rector would have named him Godfrey: at any rate, he urged them to call +him by one of the old family names which had been borne by bygone +generations of Thornes. But the young husband was resolved that the child +should be Percival, and Percival only. "Why prejudice his grandfather +against him for a mere name?" the rector persisted. But Alfred shook his +head. "Percival means all the happiness of my life," he said. So the child +received his name, and the fact was announced to Mr. Thorne in a letter +brief and to the point like a challenge. + +Communications with Brackenhill were few and far between. From the local +papers Alfred heard of the rejoicings when James came of age, quickly +followed by the announcement that he had gone abroad for the winter. Then +he was at home again, and going to marry Miss Harriet Benham; whereat +Alfred smiled a little. "The governor must have put his pride in his +pocket: old Benham made his money out of composite candles, then retired, +and has gas all over the house for fear they should be mentioned. Harry, as +we used to call her, is the youngest of them--she must be eight or nine and +twenty; fine girl, hunts--tried it on with poor Maurice ages ago. I should +think she was about half as big again as Jim. Well, yes, perhaps I am +exaggerating a little. How charmed my father must be!--only, of course, +anything to please Jim, and it's a fine thing to have him married and +settled." + +Alfred read his father's feelings correctly enough, but Mr. Thorne was +almost repaid for all he had endured when, in his turn, he was able to +write and announce the birth of a boy for whom the bells had been set +ringing as the heir of Brackenhill. Jim, with his sick fancies and +querulous conceit, Mrs. James Thorne, with her coarsely-colored splendor +and imperious ways, faded into the background now that Horace's little star +had risen. + +The rest may be briefly told. Horace had a little sister who died, and he +himself could hardly remember his father. His time was divided between his +mother's house at Brighton and Brackenhill. He grew slim and tall and +handsome--a Thorne, and not a Benham, as his grandfather did not fail to +note. He was delicate. "But he will outgrow that," said Mrs. Middleton, and +loved him the better for the care she had to take of him. It was +principally for his sake that she was there. She was a widow and had no +children of her own, but when, at her brother's request, she came to +Brackenhill to make more of a home for the school-boy, she brought with her +a tiny girl, little Sissy Langton, a great-niece of her husband's. + +Meanwhile, the other boy grew up in his quiet home, but death came there as +well as to Brackenhill, and seemed to take the mainspring of the household +in taking Sarah Thorne. Her father pined for her, and had no pleasure in +life except in her child. Even when the old man was growing feeble, and it +was manifest to all but the boy that he would not long be parted from his +daughter, it was a sombre but not an unhappy home for the child. Something +in the shadow which overhung it, in his grandfather's weakness and his +father's silence, made him grave and reserved, but he always felt that he +was loved. No playful home-name was ever bestowed on the little lad, but +it did not matter, for when spoken by Alfred Thorne no name could be so +tender as Percival. + +The rector's death when the boy was fifteen broke up the only real home he +was destined to know, for Alfred was unable to settle down in any place for +any length of time. While his wife and her father were alive their +influence over him was supreme: he was like the needle drawn aside by a +powerful attraction. But now that they were gone his thoughts oscillated a +while, and then reverted to Brackenhill. For himself he was content--he had +made his choice long ago--but little by little the idea grew up in his mind +that Percival was wronged, for he, at least, was guiltless. He secretly +regretted the defiant fashion in which his boy had been christened, and +made a feeble attempt to prove that, after all, Percy was an old family +name. He succeeded in establishing that a "P. Thorne" had once existed, who +of course might have been Percy, as he might have been Peter or Paul; and +he tried to call his son Percy in memory of this doubtful namesake. But the +three syllables were as dear to the boy as the white flag to a Bourbon. +They identified him with the mother he dimly remembered, and proclaimed to +all the world (that is, to his grandfather) that for her sake he counted +Brackenhill well lost. He triumphed, and his father was proud to be +defeated. To this day he invariably writes himself "Percival Thorne." + +Alfred, however, had his way on a more important point, and educated his +son for no profession, because the head of the house needed none. Percival +acquiesced willingly enough, without a thought of the implied protest. He +was indolent, and had little or no ambition. Since daily bread--and, +luckily, rather more than daily bread, for he was no ascetic--was secured +to him, since books were many and the world was wide, he asked nothing +better than to study them. He grew up grave, dreamy and somewhat solitary +in his ways. He seemed to have inherited something of the rector's +self-possessed and rather formal courtesy, and at twenty he looked older +than his age, though his face was as smooth as a girl's. + +He was not twenty-one, when his father died suddenly of fever. When the +news reached Brackenhill the old squire was singularly affected by it. He +had been accustomed to contrast Alfred's vigorous prime with his own +advanced age, Percival's unbroken health with Horace's ailing boyhood, and +to think mournfully of the probability that the old manor-house must go to +a stranger unless he could humble himself to the son who had defied him. +But, old as he was, he had outlived his son, and he was dismayed at his +isolation. A whole generation was dead and gone, and the two lads, who were +all that remained of the Thornes of Brackenhill, stood far away, as though +he stretched his trembling hands to them across their fathers' graves. He +expressly requested that Percival should come and see him, and the young +man presented himself in his deep mourning. Sissy, just sixteen, looked +upon him as a sombre hero of romance, and within two days of his coming +Mrs. Middleton announced that her brother was "perfectly infatuated about +that boy." + +The evening of his arrival he stood with his grandfather on the terrace +looking at the wide prospect which lay at their feet--ample fields and +meadows, and the silvery flash of water through the willows. Then he +turned, folded his arms and coolly surveyed Brackenhill itself from end to +end. Mr. Thorne watched him, expecting some word, but when none came, and +Percival's eyes wandered upward to the soft evening sky, where a glimmering +star hung like a lamp above the old gray manor-house, he said, with some +amusement, "Well, and what is your opinion?" + +Percival came down to earth with the greatest promptitude: "It's a +beautiful place. I'm glad to see it. I like looking over old houses." + +"Like looking over old houses? As if it were merely a show! Isn't +Brackenhill more to you than any other old house?" demanded Mr. Thorne. + +"Oh, well, perhaps," Percival allowed: "I have heard my father talk of it +of course." + +"Come, come! You are not such an outsider as all that," said his +grandfather. + +The young man smiled a little, but did not speak. + +"You don't forget you are a Thorne, I hope?" the other went on. "There are +none too many of us." + +"No," said Percival. "I like the old house, and I can assure you, sir, that +I am proud of both my names." + +"Well, well! very good names. But shouldn't you call a man a lucky fellow +if he owned a place like this?" + +"My opinion wouldn't be half as well worth having as yours," was the reply. +"What do you call yourself, sir?" + +"Do you think I own this place?" Mr. Thorne inquired. + +"Why, yes--I always supposed so. Don't you?" + +"No, I don't!" The answer was almost a snarl. "I'm bailiff, overlooker, +anything you like to call it. My master is at Oxford, at Christ Church. He +won't read, and he can't row, so he is devoting his time to learning how to +get rid of the money I am to save up for him. _I_ own Brackenhill?" He +faced abruptly round. "All that timber is mine, they say; and if I cut down +a stick your aunt Middleton is at me: 'Think of Horace.' The place was +mortgaged when I came into it. I pinched and saved--I freed it--for Horace. +Why shouldn't I mortgage it again if I please--raise money and live royally +till my time comes, eh? They'd all be at me, dinning 'Horace! Horace!' and +my duty to those who come after me, into my ears. Look at the drawing-room +furniture!" + +"The prettiest old room I ever saw," said Percival. + +"Ah! you're right there. But my sister doesn't think so. It's shabby, she +would tell you. But does she ask me to furnish it for her? No, no, it isn't +worth while: mine is such a short lease. When Horace marries and comes into +his inheritance, of course it must be done up. It would be a pity to waste +money about it now, especially as there's a bit of land lies between two +farms of mine, and if I don't go spending a lot in follies, I can buy it. +Think of that! I can buy it--_for Horace!_" + +Percival was guarded in his replies to this and similar outbursts; and Mrs. +Middleton, seeing that he showed no disposition to toady his grandfather or +to depreciate Horace, told Godfrey Hammond that, though her brother was so +absurd about him, she thought he seemed a good sort of young man, after +all. "Time will show," was the answer. Now, this was depressing, for +Godfrey had established a reputation for great sagacity. + +[TO BE CONTINUED.] + + + + +ABBEYS AND CASTLES. + + +It is a frequent reflection with the stranger in England that the beauty +and interest of the country are private property, and that to get access to +them a key is always needed. The key may be large or it may be small, but +it must be something that will turn a lock. Of the things that charm an +American observer in the land of parks and castles, I can think of very few +that do not come under this definition of private property. When I have +mentioned the hedgerows and the churches I have almost exhausted the list. +You can enjoy a hedgerow from the public road, and I suppose that even if +you are a Dissenter you may enjoy a Norman abbey from the street. If, +therefore, one talks of anything beautiful in England, the presumption will +be that it is private; and indeed such is my admiration of this delightful +country that I feel inclined to say that if one talks of anything private, +the presumption will be that it is beautiful. Here is something of a +dilemma. If the observer permits himself to commemorate charming +impressions, he is in danger of giving to the world the fruits of +friendship and hospitality. If, on the other hand, he withholds his +impression, he lets something admirable slip away without having marked its +passage, without having done it proper honor. He ends by mingling +discretion with enthusiasm, and he says to himself that it is not treating +a country ill to talk of its treasures when the mention of each connotes, +as the metaphysicians say, an act of private courtesy. + +The impressions I have in mind in writing these lines were gathered in a +part of England of which I had not before had even a traveller's glimpse; +but as to which, after a day or two, I found myself quite ready to agree +with a friend who lived there, and who knew and loved it well, when he said +very frankly, "I _do_ believe it is the loveliest corner of the world!" +This was not a dictum to quarrel about, and while I was in the neighborhood +I was quite of his mind. I felt that it would not take a great deal to make +me care for it very much as he cared for it: I had a glimpse of the +peculiar tenderness with which such a country may be loved. It is a capital +example of the great characteristic of English scenery--of what I should +call density of feature. There are no waste details; everything in the +landscape is something particular--has a history, has played a part, has a +value to the imagination. It is a country of hills and blue undulations, +and, though none of the hills are high, all of them are +interesting--interesting as such things are interesting in an old, small +country, by a kind of exquisite modulation, something suggesting that +outline and coloring have been retouched and refined, as it were, by the +hand of Time. Independently of its castles and abbeys, the definite relics +of the ages, such a landscape seems historic. It has human relations, and +it is intimately conscious of them. That little speech about the +loveliness of his county, or of his own part of his county, was made to me +by my companion as we walked up the grassy slope of a hill, or "edge," as +it is called there, from the crests of which we seemed in an instant to +look away over half of England. Certainly I should have grown fond of such +a view as that. The "edge" plunged down suddenly, as if the corresponding +slope on the other side had been excavated, and one might follow the long +ridge for the space of an afternoon's walk with this vast, charming +prospect before one's eyes. Looking across an English county into the next +but one is a very pretty entertainment, the county seeming by no means so +small as might be supposed. How can a county seem small in which, from such +a vantage-point as the one I speak of, you see, as a darker patch across +the lighter green, the twelve thousand acres of Lord So-and-So's woods? +Beyond these are blue undulations of varying tone, and then another +bosky-looking spot, which you learn to be about the same amount of manorial +umbrage belonging to Lord Some-One-Else. And to right and left of these, in +shaded stretches, lie other estates of equal consequence. It was therefore +not the smallness but the vastness of the country that struck me, and I was +not at all in the mood of a certain American who once, in my hearing, burst +out laughing at an English answer to my inquiry as to whether my +interlocutor often saw Mr. B----. "Oh no," the answer had been, "we never +see him: he lives away off in the West." It was the western part of his +county our friend meant, and my American humorist found matter for infinite +jest in his meaning. "I should as soon think," he declared, "of saying my +western hand and my eastern." + +I do not think, even, that my disposition to form a sentimental attachment +for this delightful region--for its hillside prospect of old red farmhouses +lighting up the dark-green bottoms, of gables and chimney-tops of great +houses peeping above miles of woodland, and, in the vague places of the +horizon, of far-away towns and sites that one had always heard of--was +conditioned upon having "property" in the neighborhood, so that the little +girls in the town should suddenly drop courtesies to me in the street; +though that too would certainly have been pleasant. At the same time, +having a little property would without doubt have made the sentiment +stronger. People who wander about the world without money have their +dreams--dreams of what they would buy if their pockets were lined. These +dreams are very apt to have relation to a good estate in any neighborhood +in which the wanderer happens to find himself. For myself, I have never +been in a country so unattractive that it did not seem a peculiar felicity +to be able to purchase the most considerable house it contained. In New +England and other portions of the United States I have coveted the large +mansion with Greek columns and a pediment of white-painted timber: in Italy +I should have made proposals for the yellow-walled villa with statues on +the roof. In England I have rarely gone so far as to fancy myself in treaty +for the best house, but, short of this, I have never failed to feel that +ideal comfort for the time would be to call one's self owner of what is +denominated here a "good" place. Is it that English country life seems to +possess such irresistible charms? I have not always thought so: I have +sometimes suspected that it is dull; I have remembered that there is a +whole literature devoted to exposing it (that of the English novel "of +manners"), and that its recorded occupations and conversations occasionally +strike one as lacking a certain desirable salt. But, for all that, when, in +the region to which I allude, my companion spoke of this and that place +being likely sooner or later to come to the hammer, it seemed as if nothing +could be more delightful than to see the hammer fall upon an offer made by +one's self. And this in spite of the fact that the owners of the places in +question would part with them because they could no longer afford to keep +them up. I found it interesting to learn, in so far as was possible, what +sort of income was implied by the possession of country-seats such as are +not in America a concomitant of even the largest fortunes; and if in these +interrogations I sometimes heard of a very long rent-roll, on the other +hand I was frequently surprised at the slenderness of the resources +attributed to people living in the depths of an oak-studded park. Then, +certainly, English country life seemed to me the most advantageous thing in +the world: on these terms one would gladly put up with a little dulness. +When I reflected that there were thousands of people dwelling in brownstone +houses in numbered streets in New York who were at as great a cost to make +a reputable appearance in those harsh conditions as some of the occupants +of the grassy estates of which I had a glimpse, the privileges of the +latter class appeared delightfully cheap. + +There was one place in particular of which I said to myself that if I had +the money to buy it, I would simply walk up to the owner and pour the sum +in sovereigns into his hat. I saw this place, unfortunately, to small +advantage: I saw it in the rain. But I am rather glad that fine weather did +not meddle with the affair, for I think that in this case the irritation of +envy would have been really too acute. It was a rainy Sunday, and the rain +was serious. I had been in the house all day, for the weather can best be +described by my saying that it had been deemed an exoneration from +church-going. But in the afternoon, the prospective interval between lunch +and tea assuming formidable proportions, my host took me out to walk, and +in the course of our walk he led me into a park which he described as "the +paradise of a small English country gentleman." Well it might be: I have +never seen such a collection of oaks. They were of high antiquity and +magnificent girth and stature: they were strewn over the grassy levels in +extraordinary profusion, and scattered upon and down the slopes in a +fashion than which I have seen nothing more charming since I last looked at +the chestnut trees on the banks of the Lake of Como. It appears that the +place was not very vast, but I was unable to perceive its limits. Shortly +before we turned into the park the rain had renewed itself, so that we were +awkwardly wet and muddy; but, being near the house, my companion proposed +to leave his card in a neighborly way. The house was most agreeable: it +stood on a kind of terrace in the midst of a lawn and garden, and the +terrace looked down on one of the handsomest rivers in England, and across +to those blue undulations of which I have already spoken. On the terrace +also was a piece of ornamental water, and there was a small iron paling to +divide the lawn from the park. All this I beheld in the rain. My companion +gave his card to the butler, with the observation that we were too much +bespattered to come in; and we turned away to complete our circuit. As we +turned away I became acutely conscious of what I should have been tempted +to call the cruelty of this proceeding. My imagination gauged the whole +position. It was a Sunday afternoon, and it was raining. The house was +charming, the terrace delightful, the oaks magnificent, the view most +interesting. But the whole thing was--not to repeat the epithet "dull," of +which just now I made too gross a use--the whole thing was quiet. In the +house was a drawing-room, and in the drawing-room was--by which I meant +_must be_--a lady, a charming English lady. There was, it seemed to me, no +fatuity in believing that on this rainy Sunday afternoon it would not +please her to be told that two gentlemen had walked across the country to +her door only to go through the ceremony of leaving a card. Therefore, +when, before we had gone many yards, I heard the butler hurrying after us, +I felt how just my sentiment of the situation had been. Of course we went +back, and I carried my muddy shoes into the drawing-room--just the +drawing-room I had imagined--where I found--I will not say just the lady I +had imagined, but--a lady even more charming. Indeed, there were two +ladies, one of whom was staying in the house. In whatever company you find +yourself in England, you may always be sure that some one present is +"staying." I seldom hear this participle now-a-days without remembering an +observation made to me in France by a lady who had seen much of English +manners: "Ah, that dreadful word _staying!_ I think we are so happy in +France not to be able to translate it--not to have any word that answers to +it." The large windows of the drawing-room I speak of looked away over the +river to the blurred and blotted hills, where the rain was drizzling and +drifting. It was very quiet: there was an air of leisure. If one wanted to +do something here, there was evidently plenty of time--and indeed of every +other appliance--to do it. The two ladies talked about "town:" that is what +people talk about in the country. If I were disposed I might represent them +as talking about it with a certain air of yearning. At all events, I asked +myself how it was possible that one should live in this charming place and +trouble one's head about what was going on in London in July. Then we had +excellent tea. + +I have narrated this trifling incident because there seemed to be some +connection between it and what I was going to say about the stranger's +sense of country life being the normal, natural, typical life of the +English. In America, however comfortably people may live in the country, +there is always, relatively speaking, an air of picnicking about their +establishments. Their habitations, their arrangements, their appointments, +are more or less provisional. They dine at different hours from their city +hours; they wear different clothing; they spend all their time out of +doors. The English, on the other hand, live according to the same system in +Devonshire and in Mayfair--with the difference, perhaps, that in +Devonshire, where they have people "staying" with them, the system is +rather more rigidly applied. The picnicking, if picnicking there is to be, +is done in town. They keep their best things in the country--their best +books, their best furniture, their best pictures--and their footing in +London is as provisional as ours is at our "summer retreats." The English +smile a good deal--or rather would smile a good deal if they had more +observation of it--at the fashion in which we American burghers stow +ourselves away for July and August in white wooden boarding-houses beside +dusty, ill-made roads. But it is fair to say that these improvised homes +are not immeasurably more barbaric than the human _entassement_ that takes +place in London "apartments" during the months of May and June. Whoever has +had unhappy occasion to look for lodgings at this period, and to explore +the mysteries of the little black houses in the West End which have a +neatly-printed card suspended in the door-light, will admit that from the +obligation to rough it our more luxurious kinsmen are not altogether +exempt. We rough it, certainly, more than they do, but we rough it in the +country, where Nature herself is rough, and they rough it in the heart of +the largest and most splendid of cities. In England, in the country, Nature +as well as civilization is smooth, and it seems perfectly consistent, even +at midsummer, to dress for dinner; albeit that when so costumed you cannot +conveniently lie on the grass. But in England you do not particularly +expect to lie on the grass, especially in the evening. The aspect of the +usual English country-houses sufficiently indicates the absence of that +informal culture of the open air into which the American _villeggiatura_ +generally resolves itself; and one reason why I mentioned just now the +excellent dwelling which I visited in the rain was that, as I approached +it, it struck me as so good an example of all that, for American rural +purposes, a house should not be. It was indeed built of stone, or of brick +stuccoed over; which, as they say in England, is a "great pull." But except +that it was detached and gabled, it belonged quite to the class of city +houses. Its walls were straight and bare, and its windows, though wide, +were short. It might have been deposited in Belgravia without in the least +seeming out of place: it conformed to the rigid London model. It had no +external galleries, no breezy piazzas, no long windows opening upon them, +no doors disposed for propagating draughts. But, indeed, I have never seen +an English house furnished with what we call a piazza; and I must add that +I have rarely known an English summer day on which it would have been +convenient to sit in a propagated draught. + +It seems, however, grossly unthankful to say that English country-houses +lack anything when one has received delightful impressions of what they +possess. What is a draughty doorway to an old Norman portal, massively +arched and quaintly sculptured, across whose hollow threshold the eye of +fancy may see the ghosts of monks and the shadows of abbots pass +noiselessly to and fro? What is a paltry piazza to a beautiful ambulatory +of the thirteenth century--a long stone gallery or cloister repeated in two +stories, with the interstices of its carven lattice now glazed, but with +its long, low, narrow, charming vista still perfect and picturesque--with +its flags worn away by monkish sandals, and with huge round-arched doorways +opening from its inner side into great rooms roofed like cathedrals? What +are the longest French windows, with the most patented latches, to narrow +casements of almost defensive aspect set in embrasures three feet deep and +ornamented with little grotesque mediaeval faces? To see one of these small +monkish masks grinning at you while you dress and undress, or while you +look up in the intervals of inspiration from your letter-writing, is a +simple detail in the entertainment of living in an ancient priory. This +entertainment is inexhaustible, for every step you take in such a house +confronts you in one way or another with the remote past. You feast upon +picturesqueness, you inhale history. Adjoining the house is a beautiful +ruin, part of the walls and windows and bases of the piers of the +magnificent church administered by your predecessor the abbot. These relics +are very desultory, but they are still abundant, and they testify to the +great scale and the stately beauty of the abbey. You may lie upon the grass +at the base of an ivied fragment, measure the girth of the great stumps of +the central columns, half smothered in soft creepers, and think how strange +it is that in this quiet hollow, in the midst of lonely hills, so exquisite +and elaborate a work of art should have arisen. It is but an hour's walk to +another great ruin, which has held together more completely. There the +central tower stands erect to half its altitude, and the round arches and +massive pillars of the nave make a perfect vista on the unencumbered turf. +You get an impression that when Catholic England was in her prime great +abbeys were as thick as milestones. By native amateurs, even now, the +region is called "wild," though to American eyes it seems thoroughly +suburban in its smoothness and finish. There is a noiseless little railway +running through the valley, and there is an ancient little town at the +abbey gates--a town, indeed, with no great din of vehicles, but with goodly +brick houses, with a dozen "publics," with tidy, whitewashed cottages, and +with little girls, as I have said, bobbing courtesies in the street. But +even now, if one had wound one's way into the valley by the railroad, it +would be rather a surprise to find a small ornamental cathedral in a spot +on the whole so natural and pastoral. How impressive then must the +beautiful church have been in the days of its prosperity, when the pilgrim +came down to it from the grassy hillside and its bells made the stillness +sensible! The abbey was in those days a great affair: as my companion said, +it sprawled all over the place. As you walk away from it you think you have +got to the end of its traces, but you encounter them still in the shape of +a rugged outhouse grand with an Early-English arch, or an ancient well +hidden in a kind of sculptured cavern. It is noticeable that even if you +are a traveller from a land where there are no Early-English--and indeed +few Late-English--arches, and where the well-covers are, at their hoariest, +of fresh-looking shingles, you grow used with little delay to all this +antiquity. Anything very old seems extremely natural: there is nothing we +accept so implicitly as the past. It is not too much to say that after +spending twenty-four hours in a house that is six hundred years old, you +seem yourself to have lived in it for six hundred years. You seem yourself +to have hollowed the flags with your tread and to have polished the oak +with your touch. You walk along the little stone gallery where the monks +used to pace, looking out of the Gothic window-places at their beautiful +church, and you pause at the big round, rugged doorway that admits you to +what is now the drawing-room. The massive step by which you ascend to the +threshold is a trifle crooked, as it should be: the lintels are cracked and +worn by the myriad-fingered years. This strikes your casual glance. You +look up and down the miniature cloister before you pass in: it seems +wonderfully old and queer. Then you turn into the drawing-room, where you +find modern conversation and late publications and the prospect of dinner. +The new life and the old have melted together: there is no dividing-line. +In the drawing-room wall is a queer funnel-shaped hole, with the broad end +inward, like a small casemate. You ask a lady what it is, but she doesn't +know. It is something of the monks: it is a mere detail. After dinner you +are told that there is of course a ghost--a gray friar who is seen in the +dusky hours at the end of passages. Sometimes the servants see him, and +afterward go surreptitiously to sleep in the town. Then, when you take your +chamber-candle and go wandering bedward by a short cut through empty rooms, +you are conscious of a peculiar sensation which you hardly know whether to +interpret as a desire to see the gray friar or as an apprehension that you +will see him. + +A friend of mine, an American, who knew this country, had told me not to +fail, while I was in the neighborhood, to go to S----. "Edward I. and +Elizabeth," he said, "are still hanging about there." Thus admonished, I +made a point of going to S----, and I saw quite what my friend meant. +Edward I. and Elizabeth, indeed, are still to be met almost anywhere in the +county: as regards domestic architecture, few parts of England are still +more vividly Old English. I have rarely had, for a couple of hours, the +sensation of dropping back personally into the past in a higher degree than +while I lay on the grass beside the well in the little sunny court of this +small castle, and idly appreciated the still definite details of mediaeval +life. The place is a capital example of what the French call a small +_gentilhommiere_ of the thirteenth century. It has a good deep moat, now +filled with wild verdure, and a curious gatehouse of a much later +period--the period when the defensive attitude had been wellnigh abandoned. +This gatehouse, which is not in the least in the style of the habitation, +but gabled and heavily timbered, with quaint cross-beams protruding from +surfaces of coarse white stucco, is a very picturesque anomaly in regard to +the little gray fortress on the other side of the court. I call this a +fortress, but it is a fortress which might easily have been taken, and it +must have assumed its present shape at a time when people had ceased to +peer through narrow slits at possible besiegers. There are slits in the +outer walls for such peering, but they are noticeably broad and not +particularly oblique, and might easily have been applied to the uses of a +peaceful parley. This is part of the charm of the place: human life there +must have lost an earlier grimness: it was lived in by people who were +beginning to feel comfortable. They must have lived very much together: +that is one of the most obvious reflections in the court of a mediaeval +dwelling. The court was not always grassy and empty, as it is now, with +only a couple of gentlemen in search of impressions lying at their length, +one of whom has taken a wine-flask out of his pocket and has colored the +clear water drawn for them out of the well in a couple of tumblers by a +decent, rosy, smiling, talking old woman, who has come bustling out of the +gatehouse, and who has a large, dropsical, innocent husband standing about +on crutches in the sun and making no sign when you ask after his health. +This poor man has reached that ultimate depth of human simplicity at which +even a chance to talk about one's ailments is not appreciated. But the +civil old woman talks for every one, even for an artist who has come out of +one of the rooms, where I see him afterward reproducing its mouldering +quaintness. The rooms are all unoccupied and in a state of extreme decay, +though the castle is, as yet, far from being a ruin. From one of the +windows I see a young lady sitting under a tree across a meadow, with her +knees up, dipping something into her mouth. It is a camel's hair +paint-brush: the young lady is sketching. These are the only besiegers to +which the place is exposed now, and they can do no great harm, as I doubt +whether the young lady's aim is very good. We wandered about the empty +interior, thinking it a pity things should be falling so to pieces. There +is a beautiful great hall--great, that is, for a small castle (it would be +extremely handsome in a modern house)--with tall, ecclesiastical-looking +windows, and a long staircase at one end climbing against the wall into a +spacious bedroom. You may still apprehend very well the main lines of that +simpler life; and it must be said that, simpler though it was, it was +apparently by no means destitute of many of our own conveniences. The +chamber at the top of the staircase ascending from the hall is charming +still, with its irregular shape, its low-browed ceiling, its cupboards in +the walls, and its deep bay window formed of a series of small lattices. +You can fancy people stepping out from it upon the platform of the +staircase, whose rugged wooden logs, by way of steps, and solid, +deeply-guttered hand-rail, still remain. They looked down into the hall, +where, I take it, there was always a certain congregation of retainers, +much lounging and waiting and passing to and fro, with a door open into the +court. The court, as I said just now, was not the grassy, aesthetic spot +which you may find it at present of a summer's day: there were beasts +tethered in it, and hustling men-at-arms, and the earth was trampled into +puddles. But my lord or my lady, looking down from the chamber-door, could +pick out the man wanted and bawl down an order, with a threat to fling +something at his head if it were not instantly performed. The sight of the +groups on the floor beneath, the calling up and down, the oaken tables +spread, and the brazier in the middle,--all this seemed present again; and +it was not difficult to pursue the historic vision through the rest of the +building--through the portion which connected the great hall with the tower +(here the confederate of the sketching young lady without had set up the +peaceful three-legged engine of his craft); through the dusky, roughly +circular rooms of the tower itself, and up the corkscrew staircase of the +same to that most charming part of every old castle, where visions must +leap away off the battlements to elude you--the sunny, breezy platform at +the tower-top, the place where the castle-standard hung and the vigilant +inmates surveyed the approaches. Here, always, you really overtake the +impression of the place--here, in the sunny stillness, it seems to pause, +panting a little, and give itself up. + +It was not only at Stokesay--I have written the name at last, and I will +not efface it--that I lingered a while on the quiet platform of the keep to +enjoy the complete impression so overtaken. I spent such another half hour +at Ludlow, which is a much grander and more famous monument. Ludlow, +however, is a ruin--the most impressive and magnificent of ruins. The +charming old town and the admirable castle form a capital object of +pilgrimage. Ludlow is an excellent example of a small English provincial +town that has not been soiled and disfigured by industry: I remember there +no tall chimneys and smoke-streamers, with their attendant purlieus and +slums. The little city is perched upon a hill near which the goodly Severn +wanders, and it has a noticeable air of civic dignity. Its streets are wide +and clean, empty and a little grass-grown, and bordered with spacious, +soberly-ornamental brick houses, which look as if there had been more going +on in them in the first decade of the century than there is in the present, +but which can still, nevertheless, hold up their heads and keep their +window-panes clear, their knockers brilliant and their doorsteps whitened. +The place looks as if seventy years ago it had been the centre of a large +provincial society, and as if that society had been very "good of its +kind." It must have transported itself to Ludlow for the season--in +rumbling coaches and heavyish curricles--and there entertained itself in +decent emulation of that metropolis which a choice of railway-lines had not +as yet placed within its immediate reach. It had balls at the +assembly-rooms; it had Mrs. Siddons to play; it had Catalani to sing. Miss +Austin's and Miss Edgeworth's heroines might perfectly well have had their +first love-affair there: a journey to Ludlow would certainly have been a +great event to Fanny Price or Anne Eliot, to Helen or Belinda. It is a +place on which a provincial "gentry" has left a sensible stamp. I have +seldom seen so good a collection of houses of the period between the elder +picturesqueness and the modern baldness. Such places, such houses, such +relics and intimations, always carry me back to the near antiquity of that +pre-Victorian England which it is still easy for a stranger to picture with +a certain vividness, thanks to the partial survival of many of its +characteristics. It is still easy for a stranger who has stayed a while in +England to form an idea of the tone, the habits, the aspect of English +social life before its classic insularity had begun to wane, as all +observers agree that it did, about thirty years ago. It is true that the +mental operation in this matter reduces itself to fancying some of the +things which form what Mr. Matthew Arnold would call the peculiar "notes" +of England infinitely exaggerated--the rigidly aristocratic constitution of +society, for instance; the unaesthetic temper of the people; the private +character of most kinds of comfort and entertainment. Let an old gentleman +of conservative tastes, who can remember the century's youth, talk to you +at a club _temporis acti_--tell you wherein it is that from his own point +of view London, as a residence for a gentleman, has done nothing but fall +off for the last forty years. You will listen, of course, with an air of +decent sympathy, but privately you will be saying to yourself how +difficult a place of sojourn London must have been in those days for a +stranger--how little cosmopolitan, how bound, in a thousand ways, with +narrowness of custom. What is true of the metropolis at that time is of +course doubly true of the provinces; and a genteel little city like the one +I am speaking of must have been a kind of focus of insular propriety. Even +then, however, the irritated alien would have had the magnificent ruins of +the castle to dream himself back into good-humor in. They would effectually +have transported him beyond all waning or waxing Philistinisms. + +Ludlow Castle is an example of a great feudal fortress, as the little +castellated manor I spoke of a while since is an example of a small one. +The great courtyard at Ludlow is as large as the central square of a city, +but now it is all vacant and grassy, and the day I was there a lonely old +horse was tethered and browsing in the middle of it. The place is in +extreme dilapidation, but here and there some of its more striking features +have held well together, and you may get a very sufficient notion of the +immense scale upon which things were ordered in the day of its strength. It +must have been garrisoned with a small army, and the vast _enceinte_ must +have enclosed a stalwart little world. Such an impression of thickness and +duskiness as one still gets from fragments of partition and chamber--such a +sense of being well behind something, well out of the daylight and its +dangers--of the comfort of the time having been security, and security +incarceration! There are prisons within the prison--horrible unlighted +caverns of dismal depth, with holes in the roof through which Heaven knows +what odious refreshment was tossed down to the poor groping _detenu_. There +is nothing, surely, that paints one side of the Middle Ages more vividly +than this fact that fine people lived in the same house with their +prisoners, and kept the key in their pocket. Fancy the young ladies of the +family working tapestry in their "bower" with the knowledge that at the +bottom of the corkscrew staircase one of their papa's enemies was sitting +month after month in mouldy midnight! But Ludlow Castle has brighter +associations than these, the chief of which I should have mentioned at the +outset. It was for a long period the official residence of the +governors--the "lords presidents" they were called--of the Marches of +Wales, and it was in the days of its presidential splendor that Milton's +_Comus_ was acted in the great hall. Wandering about in shady corners of +the ruin, it is the echo of that enchanting verse that we should try to +catch, and not the faint groans of some encaverned malefactor. Other verse +was also produced at Ludlow--verse, however, of a less sonorous quality. A +portion of Samuel Butler's _Hudibras_ was composed there. Let me add that +the traveller who spends a morning at Ludlow will naturally have come +thither from Shrewsbury, of which place I have left myself no space to +speak, though it is worth, and well worth, an allusion. Shrewsbury is a +museum of beautiful old gabled, cross-timbered house-fronts. + +H. JAMES, JR. + + + + +LITTLE LIZAY. + + +Alston was a Virginia slave--a tall, well-built half-breed, in whom the +white blood dominated the black. When about thirty-seven years of age he +was sold to a Mississippi plantation, in the north-western part of the +State and on the river. The farm was managed by an overseer, the +master--Horton by name--being a practising physician in Memphis, Tenn. +Alston had been on the plantation a few weeks when, toward the last of +September, the cotton-picking season opened. The year had been, for the +river-plantations, exceptionally favorable for cotton-growing. On the +Horton place especially "the stand" had been pronounced perfect, there +being scarcely a gap, scarcely a stalk missing from the mile-long rows of +the broad fields. Then, the rainfall had not been so profuse as to develop +foliage at the bolls' expense, as was too frequently the case on the river. +Yet it had been plenteous enough to keep off the "rust," from which the +dryer upland plantations were now suffering. Neither the "boll-worm" nor +the dreaded "army-worm" had molested the river-fields; so the tall +pyramidal plants were thickly set with "squares" and green egg-shaped +bolls, smooth and shining as with varnish. On a single stalk might be seen +all stages of development--from the ripe, brown boll, parted starlike, with +the long white fleece depending, to the bean-sized embryo from which the +crimson flower had but just fallen. Indeed, among the wide-open bolls there +was an occasional flower, cream-hued or crimson according to its age, for +the cotton-bloom at opening resembles in color the magnolia-blossom, but +this changes quickly to a deep crimson. + +There was, then, the promise, almost the certainty, of a heavy crop on the +Horton place. It was in view of this that the owner completed an +arrangement, for months under consideration, in which he increased his +working plantation-force by thirteen hands, of whom one was Alston. It was, +too, in view of this promised heavy crop that the overseer, Mr. Buck, +harangued the slaves at the opening of the picking-season. The burden of +his harangue was, that no flagging would be tolerated in cotton-gathering +during the season. The figures of the past year were on record, showing +what each hand did each day. There was to be no falling behind these +figures: indeed, they must be beaten, for the heavier bolling made the +picking easier. Any one falling behind was to be cowhided. As for the new +hands, they ought to lead the field, for they were all young, stout +fellows. + +As has been said, Alston was tall, strong, well-made. Working in tobacco, +to whose culture he had been used, he could hold his hand with the best: +how would it be in this new business of cotton-picking? He had a strong +element of cheerful fidelity in his nature. The first day he worked +steadily and as rapidly as he was able at the unfamiliar employment. When +night came he reckoned he had done well. With a complacent feeling he stood +waiting his turn as the great baskets, one after another, were swung on the +steelyard and the weights announced. He found himself pitying some of the +pickers as light weights were called, wondering if they had fallen behind +last year's figures. When his basket was brought forward, it was by Big +Sam, who with one hand swung it lightly to the scales; yet Alston's thought +was, "How strong Big Sam is!" and never, "How light the basket!" + +The weight was announced: Alston was almost stunned. He had strained every +nerve, yet here he was behind the children-pickers, behind the gray old +women stiff with rheumatism and broken with childbearing and with doing +men's work. + +"Sixty-three pounds!" the overseer said with a threatening tone. "Min' yer +git a heap higher'n that ter-morrer, yer yaller raskel! Ef yer can't pick +cotton, yer'll be sol' down in Louzany to a sugar-plantation, whar' niggers +don't git nothin' ter eat 'cept cotton-seeds an' a few dreggy lasses." + +Next to being sent to "the bad place" itself, the most terrible fate, to +the negro's imagination, was to be sold to a sugar-planter. + +"Here's Big Sam," the overseer continued, "nigh unto three hunderd; an' +Little Lizay two hunderd an' fawty-seven.--That's the bigges' figger yer's +ever struck yit, Lizay: shows what yer kin do. Min' yer come up ter it +ter-morrer an' ev'ry other day." + +"Days gits shawter 'bout Chrismus-time," Little Lizay ventured to suggest, +"an' it gits col', an' my fingers ain't limber." + +"Don't give me none yer jaw. Reckon I knows 'nuff ter make 'lowances fer +col' an' shawt days an' scatterin' bolls an' sich like." + +The next day, Alston, humiliated by his failure and by the brutal reprimand +he had received, went to the cotton-field before any of the other +hands--indeed, before it was fairly light. There he worked if ever a man +did work. When the other negroes came on the field there were laughing, +talking, singing, nodding and occasional napping in the shade of the +cotton-stalks. But Alston took no part in any of these. He had no interest +for anything apart from his work. At this all his faculties were engaged. +His lithe body was seen swaying from side to side about the widespreading +branches; he stood on tiptoe to reach the topmost bolls; he got on his +knees to work the base-limbs, pressing down and away the long grass with +his broad feet, tearing and holding back even with his teeth hindering +tendrils of the passion-flower and morning-glory and other creepers which +had escaped the devastating hoe when the crop was "laid by," and had made +good their hold on occasional stalks. Persistently he worked in this intent +way all through the hot day, every muscle in action. He lingered at the +work till after the last of the other pickers had with great baskets poised +on head joined the long, weird procession, showing white in the dusk, that +went winding through field and lane to the ginhouse. On he worked till the +crescent moon came up and he could hardly discern fleece from leaf. At +last, fearing that the basket-weighing might be ended before he could reach +the ginhouse, a half mile distant, he emptied his pick-sack, belted at his +waist, into the tall barrel-like basket, tramped the cotton with a few +movements of his bare feet, and then kneeling got the basket to his +shoulder: he was not used to the balancing on head which seemed natural as +breathing to the old hands. With long strides he hurried to the ginhouse. +He was not a minute too early. Almost the last basket had been weighed, +emptied and stacked when he climbed the ladder-like steps to the scaffold +where the cotton was sunned preparatory to its ginning. When he had pushed +his way through the crowd of negroes hanging about the door of the +ginhouse-loft he heard the overseer call, "Whar's that yaller whelp, +Als'on?" + +"Here, sah," Alston answered, hurrying forward to put his basket on the +steelyard. + +"Give me any mo' yer jaw an' I'll lay yer out with the butt-en' er this +whip," said Mr. Buck. Alston was wondering what he had said that was +disrespectful, when the man added, "Won't have none yer sahrin' uv me. I's +yer moster, an' that's what yer's got ter call me, I let yer know." + +Alston's blood was up, but the slaves were used to self-repression. All +that was endurable in their lives depended on patience and submission. + +"Beg poddon, moster," Alston said with well-assumed meekness. "In Ol' +Virginny we use ter say moster to jist our sho'-'nuff owners; but," he +added quickly, by way of mollifying the overseer, who could not fail to be +stung by the covert jeer, "it's a heap better ter say moster ter all the +white folks, white trash an' all: then yer's sho' ter be right." + +At this speech there was in Mr. Buck's rear much grinning and eye-rolling. + +But Mr. Buck was engaged with Alston's basket, which was now on the scales. +"Sixty-seven poun's," the overseer called. + +The slave's heart sank: only four pounds' gain after all his toil early and +late! He was bitterly disappointed. He believed the overseer lied. Then his +heart burned. Couldn't he leave his basket unemptied, and weigh it himself +when the others were gone? No: the order of routine was peremptory. The +baskets must be emptied and stacked on the scaffold outside the +cotton-loft, so that there would be no chance the next morning for the +negroes to take away cotton in their baskets to the fields. And what if he +could reweigh his cotton, and prove Mr. Buck a liar? He would not dare +breathe the discovery. + +So Alston emptied out the cotton he had worked so hard to gather, listening +moodily to the overseer's harsh threats: "Yer reckon I's goin' to stan' +sich figgers? Sixty-seven poun's! fou' poun's 'head uv yistiddy. Yer ought +ter be fawty ahead. I won't look at nothin' under a hunderd. Ef yer don't +get it ter-morrer I'll tie yer up, sho's yer bawn, yer great merlatto dog! +Yer's 'hin' the poo'es' gal in the fiel'." + +"I never pick no cotton 'fo' yistiddy, an' its tolerbul unhandy. Rickon I +kin do better when I gits my han' in. I use ter could wuck fus'-rate in +tobaccy." + +"Tobaccy won't save yer. We hain't got no use for niggers ef they can't +come up ter the scratch on cotton. I's made a big crop, an' I ain't goin' +ter let it rot in the fiel'. Yer ought ter pick three hunderd ev'ry day. I +know'd a nigger onct, a heap littler than Little Lizay, that picked five +hunderd ev'ry lick; an' I hearn tell uv a feller that went up ter seven +hunderd. I ain't goin' ter take no mo' sixties from yer: a good hunderd or +the cowhide. That's the talk!" + +"I'll pick all I kin," said Alston: "I wuckt haud's I could ter-day." + +"Ef yer don't hush yer lyin' mouth I'll cut yer heart out." + +Alston went from the gin-loft, his blood tingling. On the sunning-scaffold +he encountered Little Lizay. She had been listening--had heard all that had +passed between the two men. She went down the scaffold-steps, and Alston +came soon after. She waited for him, and they walked to the "quarter" +together. "It's mighty haud, ain't it?" she said. + +"I believe he tol' a lie 'bout my baskit. Anyhow, I wuckt haud's I could +ter-day. I can't pick no hunderd poun's uv the flimpsy stuff. He'll have +ter cowhide me: I don't kere." + +But Alston did care keenly--not so much for the pain; he could bear worse +misery than the brutal arm could inflict, though the rawhide cut like a +dull knife; but it was the shame, the disgrace, of the thing. He was a +stranger on the place--only a few weeks there--and to be tied up and +flogged in the midst of strange, unsympathizing negroes! it was such +degradation to his manhood. Since he was a child he had not been struck. He +had been rather a favorite with his master in Virginia, but this master had +died in debt, leaving numerous heirs, and in the changes incident to a +partition of the estate Alston was sold. + +Perceiving that he had Little Lizay's sympathy, Alston went on talking, +telling her that he could stand a lashing coming from his own master, but +that an overseer was only white trash, who never did "own a nigger," and +never would be able to. If he had to be flogged, he wanted it to be by a +gentleman. + +"Never min'," said Little Lizay. "Maybe yer'll git mo' ter-morrer. When +yer's pickin' yer mus' quit stoppin' ter pick out the leaves an' trash. I +lets ev'rything go in that happens, green bolls an' all: they weighs +heavy." + +The following day, Alston, as before, went to the cotton-field early, but +he found that Little Lizay had the start of him. She had already emptied +her sack into her pick-basket. "The cotton we get now'll weigh heavy," she +said: "it's got dew on it." + +"That's so," Alston assented, "but yer mus'n't talk ter me, Lizay. I's got +ter put all my min' ter my wuck: I can't foad ter talk." + +"I can't nuther," said Lizay. "Wish I didn't pick so much cotton the fus' +day: I's got ter keep on trottin' ter two hunderd an' fawty-seven." + +She selected two rows beside Alston's. She wore a coarse dress of uncolored +homespun cotton, of the plainest and scantiest make, low in the neck, short +in the sleeves and skirt. Her feet and head were bare. A sack of like +material with her dress was tied about the waist, apron-like. This was to +receive immediately the pickings from the hand. When filled it was emptied +in a pick-basket, holding with a little packing fifty or sixty pounds. This +small basket was kept in the picker's vicinity, being moved forward +whenever the sack was taken back for emptying. Besides this go-between +pick-basket, there was at that end of the row nearest the ginhouse an +immense basket, nearly as tall as a barrel, and of greater circumference, +with a capacity for three hundred pounds. + +Alston's pick-basket stood beside Little Lizay's, and between his row and +hers. She was carrying two rows to his one, and he perceived, without +looking and with a vague envy, that Lizay emptied three sacks at least to +his one. Yet she did not seem to be working half as hard as he was. With +light, graceful movements, now right, now left, she plucked the white tufts +and the candelabra-like pendants stretched by the wind and the expanding +lint till the dark seed could be discerned in clusters. + +It was near nine o'clock when Alston emptied his first sack, some fifteen +pounds, in the pick-basket, which Little Lizay had brought forward with her +own. Soon after she went back to empty her sack. The baskets stood +hazardously near Alston for Lizay's game, but with her back turned to him +and the luxuriant cotton-stalks between she reckoned she might venture. +One-third of her sack she threw into Alston's basket--about five pounds. +And thus the poor soul did during the day, giving a third of her gatherings +to Alston. She would have given him more--the half, the whole, everything +she owned--for she regarded him with a feeling that would have been called +love in a fairer woman. + +Alston had been in Virginia something of a house-servant, doing occasional +duty as coachman when the regular official was ill or was wanted elsewhere. +He was also a good table-waiter, and had served in the dining-room when +there were guests. So it came that though properly a field-hand, yet in +manner and speech he showed to advantage beside the slaves who were +exclusively field-hands. Little Lizay too occupied a halfway place between +these and the better-spoken, gentler-mannered house-servants. In the +winters, after Christmas, which usually terminated the picking-season, +Lizay was called to the place of head assistant of the plantation +seamstress. Indeed, she did little field-service except in times of special +pressure and during the quarter of cotton-picking. She was so +nimble-fingered and swift that she could not be spared from the field in +picking-season, especially if, as was the case this year, there was a heavy +crop. And occasionally in the winter, when there was unusual company at the +Hortons' in the city, Little Lizay was sent for and had the advantage of a +season in town. She felt her superiority to the average plantation-negro, +and had not married, though not unsolicited. When, therefore, Alston came +she at once recognized in him a companion, and she was not long in making +over her favor to the distinguished-looking stranger. He was, as she, a +half-breed, and Lizay liked her own color. Had Alston courted her favor, +she might have yielded it less readily, but he did not take easily to his +new companions. Some called him proud: others reckoned he had left a +sweetheart, a wife perhaps, in Virginia. Little Lizay's evident preference +laid her open to the rude jokes and sneers of the other negroes--in +particular Big Sam, who was her suitor, and Edny Ann, who was fond of +Alston. But Edny Ann did not care for Alston as Little Lizay did--could +not, indeed. She was incapable of the devotion that Lizay felt. She would +not have left her sleep and gone to the dew-wet field before daybreak for +the sake of helping Alston: she would not have taken the risk of falling +behind in her picking, and thus incurring a flogging, by dividing her +gatherings with him. And if she had helped him at all, it would not have +been delicately, as Lizay's help had been given. Edny Ann would have wanted +Alston to know that she had helped him: Little Lizay wished to hide it from +him, both because she feared he would decline her help, and because she +wanted to spare him the humiliation. + +When night came not only Alston lingered, picking by moonlight, but Little +Lizay; and this gave rise to much laughing among the other pickers, and to +many coarse jokes. But to one who knew her secret it would have seemed +piteous--the girl's anxious face as the weighing proceeded, drawing on and +on to Alston's basket and hers at the very end of the line. Would he have +a hundred? would she fall behind? Would he be saved the flogging? would she +have to suffer in his stead? She dreaded a flogging at the hands of that +brutal overseer, and all her womanliness shrunk from the degradation of +being stripped and flogged in Alston's presence, or even of having him know +that she was to be cowhided. She bethought her of making an appeal to the +overseer. She knew she had some power with him, for he had been enamored, +in his brutish way, of her physical charms--her neat figure, her glossy, +waving hair, and the small, shapely hand and foot. + +Just before the weighing had reached Alston's basket and hers she stepped +beside the overseer. "Please, Mos' Buck," she said in a low tone, "ef I +falls 'hin' myse'f, an' don't git up to them fus' figgers, an' has to git +cowhided--please, sah, don't let the black folks an' Als'on know 'bout it." + +Mr. Buck took a hint from this request. He perceived that Lizay was +interested in Alston, as he had already guessed from the jokes of the +negroes, and that she was specially desirous to conceal her shame from the +man to whom she had given her favor. Mr. Buck resented it that Lizay should +rebuff him and encourage Alston; so he hoped that for this once, at any +rate, she would fall behind: he had thought of a capital plan of revenging +himself on her. + +The next moment after her whispered appeal Lizay saw with intense interest +Alston's basket brought forward for weighing. She glanced at him. His eyes +were wide open, staring with eagerness, his head advanced, his whole +attitude one of absorbed anxiety. By the position of the weight or pea on +the steelyard she knew that it was put somewhere near the sixty notch. Up +flew the end of the yard, and up flew Lizay's heart with it: out went the +pea some ten teeth, yet up again went the impatient steel. Click! click! +click! rattled the weight. Out and out another ten notches, then another +and another--one hundred, one hundred and one, one hundred and two, one +hundred and three--yet the yard still protested, still called for more. +Out one tooth farther, and the steel lay along the horizon. Everybody +listened. + +"One hunderd an' fou'," Mr. Buck announced. "Thar' now, yer lazy dog! I +know'd yer wasn't half wuckin'. Now see ter it yer come ter taw arter this: +hunderd an' fou's yer notch." + +It was a moment of supreme relief to Alston. He drew a long breath, and +returned some smiles of congratulation from the negroes. Then he sighed: he +felt hopeless of repeating the weight day after day. He had hardly stopped +to breathe from day-dawn till moon-rise: he would not always have the +friendly moonlight to help him. But now Little Lizay's basket was swinging. +He listened to hear its weight with interest, but how unlike this was to +the absorbed anxiety which she had felt for him! + +"Two hunderd an' 'leven--thutty-six poun's behin'!" said Mr. Buck, smacking +his lips as over some good thing. Now he should have vent for his spite +against the girl. "Thutty-six lashes on yer bar' back by yer sweet'art." +Mr. Buck said this with a dreadful snicker in Little Lizay's face. + +The word ran like wildfire from mouth to mouth that Little Lizay, the +famous picker, had fallen behind, and was to be flogged--by the overseer, +some said--by Big Sam, others declared. But Edny Ann reckoned the cowhiding +was to be done by Alston. + +"An' her dersarves it, kase her's a big fool," said Edny Ann, "hangin' +roun' him, an' patchin' his cloze like her wus morred ter 'im--an' washin' +his shut an' britches ev'ry Saddy night." + +All the hands were required to stop after the weighing and witness the +floggings, as a warning to themselves and an enhancement of punishment to +the convicts. There was but little shrinking from the sight. Human nature +is everywhere much the same: cruel spectacles brutalize, whether in Spain +or on a negro-plantation. But to-night there was a new sensation: the +slaves were on the _qui vive_ to see Little Lizay flogged, and to find out +whose hand was to wield the whip. + +"Now hurry up yere, yer lazy raskels! an' git yer floggin'," Mr. Buck said +when the weighing was over. + +From right and left and front and rear negroes came forward and stood, a +motley group, before the one white man. It was a weird spectacle that did +not seem to belong to our earth. Black faces, heads above heads, crowded at +the doorway--some solemn and sympathetic, others grinning in anticipation +of the show. Negroes were perched on the gin and in the corners of the loft +where the cotton was heaped. Others lay at full length close to the field +of action. In every direction the dusky figures dotted the cotton lying on +every hand about the little cleared space where the flogging and weighing +were done. In a close bunch stood the shrinking, cowering convicts, some +with heads white as the cotton all about them. Mr. Buck, the most +picturesque figure of the whole, was laying off his coat and baring his +arm, standing under the solitary lamp depending from the rafters, whose +faint light served to give to all the scene an indefinite supernatural +aspect. + +"Now, come out yere," said Mr. Buck, moving from under the grease-lamp and +calling for volunteers. + +One by one the negroes came forward and bared themselves to the +waist--children, strong men and old women. And then there was shrieking and +wailing, begging and praying: it was like a leaf out of hell. + +Little Lizay was among the first of the condemned to present herself, for +she felt an intolerable suspense as to what awaited her. The vague terror +in her face was discerned by the dim light. + +As she stepped forward Mr. Buck called out, "Als'on!" + +"Yes, moster," Alston answered. + +"What yer sneakin' in that thar' corner fer? Come up yere, you--" but his +vile sentence shall not be finished here. + +Alston came forward with a statuesque face. + +"Take this rawhide," was the order he received. + +He put out his hand, and then, suddenly realizing the requisition that was +to be made on him, realizing that he was to flog Little Lizay, his +confidante and sympathizing friend, his hand dropped cold and limp. + +"Yerdar' ter dis'bey me?" Mr. Buck bellowed. "I'll brain yer: I'll--" + +"I didn't go ter do it, moster," Alston said, reaching for the whip. "I'll +whip her tell yer tells me ter stop." + +"He didn't go ter do it, Mos' Buck," pleaded Little Lizay, frightened for +Alston. "He'll whip me ef yer'll give 'im the whip.--I's ready, Als'on." + +She crossed her arms over her bare bosom and shook her long hair forward: +then dropped her face low and stood with her back partly turned to Alston, +who now had the whip. + +"Fire away!" said the overseer. + +Alston was not a refined gentleman, whose youth had been hedged from the +coarse and degrading, whose good instincts had been cherished, whose +faculties had been harmoniously trained. He was not a hero: he was not +prepared to espouse to the death Little Lizay's cause--to risk everything +for the shrinking, helpless woman and for his own manhood--to die rather +than strike her. He was only a slave, used from his cradle to the low and +cruel and brutalizing. But he had the making of a man in him: his nature +was one that could never become utterly base. But there was no help, no +hope, for either of them in anything he could do. He might knock Mr. Buck +senseless, sure of the sympathy of every slave on the plantation. There +would be a brief triumph, but he and Little Lizay would have to pay for it: +bloodhounds, scourgings, chains, cruelty that never slept and could never +be placated, were sure as fate. Resistance was inevitable disaster. + +Alston did not need to stand there undetermined while he went over this: it +was familiar ground. Over and over again he had settled it: it was madness +for the slave to oppose himself to the dominant white man. + +So, after his first unreasoning recoil, his mind was decided to adminster +the flogging. Would it not be a mercy to Little Lizay for him to do this +rather than that other hand, energized by hate, revenge and cruelty? + +He raised his arm, with his heart beating hot and his manhood shrinking: he +struck Little Lizay's bare shoulders. She had nerved herself, but the blow, +after all, surprised her and made her start; and she had not quite +recovered herself when the second blow fell, so that she winced again; but +after that she stood like a statue. + +"Harder!" cried Mr. Buck after the first few lashes. "None yer tomfool'ry +'bout me. She ain't no baby. Harder! I tell yer. Yer ain't draw'd no blood +nary time. Ef yer don't min' me I'll knock yer down. Yer whips like yer wus +'feard yer'd hurt 'er. Yer ac' like yer never whipped no nigger sence yer +wus bawn. Yer's got ter tiptoe ter it, an' fling yer arm back at a better +lick 'an that. Look yere: ef yer don't lick her harder I'll make Big Sam +lick yer till yer see sights." + +At length the wretched work was ended, and the negroes made their way along +the moonlighted lanes to their cabins. These were single rooms, built of +unhewn logs, chinked and daubed with yellow mud. They had puncheon floors +and chimneys built of sticks and clay. Of clay also were the all-important +jambs, which served as depositories of perhaps every household article +pertaining to the cabin except the bedding and the stools. There might have +been found the household knife and spoon, the two or three family tin cups, +the skillet, the pothooks, sundry gourd vessels, the wooden tray in which +the "cawn" bread was mixed--pipe, tobacco and banjo. + +On the Horton place the negroes cooked their own suppers after the day's +work was over. So for an hour every evening "the quarter" had an animated +aspect, for the cabins, standing five yards apart, faced each other in two +long lines. In each was a glowing fire, on which logs and pine-knots and +cypress-splints were laid with unsparing hand, for there was no limit to +the fuel. These fires furnished the lights: candles and lamps were unknown +at "the quarter." + +Of course the windowless cabins, with these roaring fires, were stifling +in September; so the negroes sat in the doorways chatting and singing while +the bacon was frying and the corn dough roasting in the ashes or the +hoecake baking on the griddle. An occasional woman patched or washed some +garment by the firelight, while others brought water in piggins from the +spring at the foot of the hill on whose brow "the quarter" was located. + +As Alston sat outside his door on a block, eating his supper by the light +of the high-mounting flames of his cabin-fire, Little Lizay came out and +sat on her doorsill. Her cabin stood opposite his. He recognized her, and +when he had finished his supper he went over to her. + +"I didn't want ter strike yer, Lizay," he said. "Do you feel haud agin me +fer it?" + +"No," Lizay answered: "he made yer do it. Yer couldn't he'p it. I reckon +yer'll have ter whip me agin ter-morrer night. I mos' knows my baskit won't +weigh no two hunderd an' fawty-seven poun's. 'Tain't fa'r ter 'spec' that +much from me: it's a heap more'n tother gals gits, an' mos' all uv um is +heap bigger'n me. I's small pertatoes." She laughed a little at her jest. + +"Yer's some punkins," said Alston, returning the joke. "I'd give a heap ef +I could pick cotton like yer." + +"Yer's improved a heap," said Little Lizay. "Ef yer keeps on improvin', +mayby yer'll git so yer kin he'p me arter 'while." + +"Mayby so," Alston answered. + +"But yer wouldn't he'p me, I reckon. Reckon yer'd he'p Edny Ann: yer likes +her better'n me." + +"No, I don't." + +"Reckon yer likes somebody in Virginny more'n yer likes anybody on this +plantation." + +"I's better 'quainted back thar'," said Alston apologetically. + +"But thar' ain't no use hankerin' arter them yer's lef 'hin' yer: reckon +yer won't never see um no mo'. Heap better git sati'fied yere. It's a long +way back thar', ain't it?" + +"A mighty long way," said Alston; and then he was silent, his thoughts +going back and back over the long way. + +Lizay recalled him: "Was yer sorry yer had ter whip me?" + +"I was mighty sorry, Little Lizay," he replied with a strong tone of +tenderness that made her heart beat faster. "I would er knocked that white +nigger down, but it wouldn't er he'ped nothin'. Things would er jus' been +wusser." + +"Yes," Lizay assented, "nothin' won't he'p us: ain't no use in nothin'." + +"Reckon I'll go in an' go ter sleep," said Alston: "got ter git up early in +the mawnin'." + +He _was_ up early the next morning, he and Little Lizay being again in the +cotton-field before dawn. All through the day there was, as before, +persistent devotion to the picking; then the holding on after dusk for one +more pound; the same result at night--the man up to the required figure, +the woman behind, this time forty-one pounds behind. Again she received a +cowhiding at Alston's hands. + +"What yer mean by this yere foolin'?" Mr. Buck demanded in a rage of Little +Lizay. "Yer reckon I's gwine ter stan' this yere? Two hunderd an' +fawty-seven 'gin two hunderd an' six! It's all laziness an' mulishness. +I'll git yer outen that thar' notch, else I'll kill yer. Look yere: +ter-morrer, ef yer don't come ter taw, I'll give yer twict es many licks es +the poun's yer falls behin'." + +Did this threat frighten Little Lizay out of her devotion? + +"Two hunderd is 'nuff fer a little gal like yer," Alston said the next +morning. "Save my life, I can't pick no more'n a hunderd an' a few poun's +mo'. I wouldn't stan' ter be flogged ef I'd done my shar'." + +"Got ter stan' it--can't he'p myse'f." + +"I'd go ter town an' tell Mos' Hawton. I's tolerbul sho' he wouldn't 'low +yer ter git twict es many licks, nohow. Mos' Hawton's tolerbul good ter his +black folks, ain't he?" + +"Yes, tolerbul--to the house-sarvants he's got in town; but he jist goes +'long mindin' his business thar', an' don't pay no 'tention sca'cely ter +his plantation. He don't want us ter come 'plainin' ter him. He's mighty +busy--gits a heap er practice, makes a heap er money. He went down the +river onct, more'n a hunderd miles, ter cut somethin' off a man--I fawgits +what 'twas--an' the man paid him hunderds an' hunderds an' hunderds--I +fawgits how much 'twas." + +Here Little Lizay found that Alston was no longer listening, but was +absorbed with the cotton-picking. + +That day, to save the pickers' time, their bacon and corn pones were +brought out to the field by wagon in wooden trays and buckets. There were +three cotton-baskets filled with corn dodgers. Alston and Little Lizay sat +not far apart while eating their dinners. + +"I reckon I's gittin' 'long tolerbul well ter-day," he said. "Dun know for +sar-tin, but looks like the pickin' wus heap handier than at fus'. Look +yere, Lizay: ef I know'd I'd git more'n a hunderd I'd he'p yer 'long: I'd +give yer the balance. Couldn't stave off all the floggin', but I might save +yer some licks." + +"Take kere yer ownse'f, Als'on. I don't min' the las' few licks: they don't +never hut bad es the fus' ones." This was Little Lizay's answer, given with +glowing cheek and eyes looking down. To her own heart she said, "I likes +him better'n he likes me. Reckon he can't git over mou'nin' fer somebody in +Virginny." She wondered if he had left a wife back there: she would test +him. "Reckon yer'll hear from yer wife any mo', Als'on?" she said. + +"Yes, reckon I will. She said she'd write me a letter. She didn't b'long +ter my ol' moster: she b'longed ter Squire Minor. I tuck a wife off'en our +plantation. She's goin' ter ax her moster ter sell her an' the childun to +Mos' Hawton, and I's waitin' ter fin' out ef he'll sell 'um. I ain't goin' +ter cou't no other gal tell I fin's out." + +"Yer hopes he'll sell her, don't yer?" Little Lizay asked with an anxious +heart. + +"She wus a mighty good wife," said Alston, without committing himself by a +categorical answer. "Would seem like Ol' Virginny ter have her an' the +childun, but they's better off thar'. They couldn't pick cotton, I reckon. +Her moster an' mistiss thinks a heap uv her: she's one the cooks. I don't +reckon they kin spaw her." + +"Don't yer, sho' 'nuff?" + +"No, I don't reckon they kin, 'cause one Mis' Minor's cooks is gittin' ol' +an' can't see good--Aunt Juno. She wucks up flies an' sich into the cawn +bread. They wants ter put my wife into her place, but they can't git shet +with Aunt Juno: she's jis' boun' she'll do the white folks' cookin'. She +says thar' ain't no use in bein' free ef she can't do what she pleases: +they set her free Chrismus 'fo' las'. But law, Lizay! we mus' hurry up an' +get ter pickin'." + +That night Lizay had gained on her basket of the preceding day by five and +a half pounds, and Alston had fallen behind his by four. But as he was +still over a hundred he escaped a flogging. Mr. Buck, being unable to +reckon exactly the number of lashes to which Little Lizay was entitled, +gave the rawhide the benefit of any doubt and ordered Alston to administer +seventy-five lashes. + +The next day nothing noticeable occurred in the lives of these two slaves, +except that Alston's basket fell yet behind: Mr. Buck acknowledged it was a +"hunderd, but a mighty tight squeeze," while Little Lizay's had gained +three pounds on the last weight. + +"Yer saved six lashes ter-day, Little Lizay," Alston said. He was evidently +glad for her, and her hungry heart was glad that he cared. + +"An' yer didn't haudly git clear," she replied, adding to herself that +to-morrow she must be more generous with her help to Alston. + +But on the morrow something occurred which dismayed the girl. She had +shaken her sack over Alston's basket, designing to empty a third of its +contents there, and then the remainder in her "pick." But the cotton was +closely packed in the sack, and almost the whole of it tumbled in a compact +mass into Alston's basket. He would not need so much help as this to ensure +him, so she proceeded to transfer a portion of the heap to her basket. +Suddenly she started as though shot. Some one was calling to her and making +a terrible accusation. The some one was Edny Ann: "Yer's stealin' thar': I +see'd yer do it--see'd yer takin' cotton outen Als'on's baskit. Ain't yer +shame, yer yaller good-fer-nuffin'? I's gwine ter tell." This was the +terrible accusation. + +"Yer dun know nothin' 'tall 'bout it," said Little Lizay. "It's my cotton. +I emptied it in Als'on's baskit when I didn't go ter do it. I ain't tuck a +sol'tary lock er Als'on's cotton; an' I wouldn't, nuther, ter save my +life." + +"Reckon yer kin fool me?" demanded the triumphant Edny Ann. Then she called +Alston with the _O_ which Southerners inevitably prefix: "O Als'on! O +Als'on! come yere! quick!" + +"Don't, please don't, tell him," Little Lizay pleaded. "I'll give yer my +new cal'ker dress ef yer won't tell nobody." + +But Edny Ann went on calling: "O Als'on! O Als'on! come yere!" + +Little Lizay pleaded in a frantic way for silence as she saw Alston coming +with long strides up between the cotton-rows toward them. + +"I wants yer ter ten' ter Lizay," said Edny Ann. "Her's been stealin' yer +cotton: see'd 'er do it--see'd 'er take a heap er cotton outen yer baskit +an' ram it into hern. Did so!" + +Then you should have seen the man's face. Had it been white you could not +have discerned any plainer the surprise, the disappointment, the grief. +Lizay saw with an indefinable thrill the sadness in his eyes, heard the +grief in his voice. + +"I didn't reckon yer'd do sich a thing, Lizay," he said. "I know it's +mighty haud on yer, gittin' cowhided ev'ry night, but stealin' ain't goin' +ter he'p it, Lizay." + +"I never stole yer cotton, Als'on," Little Lizay said with a certain +dignity, but with an unsteady voice. + +"I see'd yer do it," Edny Ann interrupted. + +"I emptied my sack in yer baskit when I didn't go ter do it," Little Lizay +continued. "It wus my own cotton I wus takin' out yer baskit." + +"Ef yer deny it, Lizay, yer'll make it wusser." Then Alston went up close +to her, so that Edny Ann might not hear, and said something in a low tone. + +Lizay gave him a swift look of surprise: then her lip began to quiver; the +quick tears came to her eyes; she put both hands to her face and cried +hard, so that she could not have found voice if she had wished to tell +Alston her story. He went back to his row, and left her there crying beside +the pick-baskets. He returned almost immediately, shouldered his basket, +and went away from her to another part of the field, leaving his row +unfinished. He wondered how much cotton Lizay had taken from his basket--if +its weight would be brought down below a hundred; and meditated what he +should do in case he was called up to be flogged by the brutal overseer. +Should he stand and take the lashing, trusting to Heaven to make it up to +him some day? or should he knock the overseer senseless and make a strike +for freedom? Where was freedom? Which was the way to the free North? In +Virginia he would have known in what direction to set his face for Ohio, +but here everything was new and strange. + +However, he had no occasion for a desperate movement that night. His basket +weighed one hundred and seven, while Little Lizay's had fallen lower than +ever before. Alston thought it was because she had missed her chance of +transferring the usual quantity of cotton from his basket. + +The striking of Lizay had never seemed so abhorrent to him as on this +night, now that there was estrangement between them. She was already +humiliated in his sight, and to raise his hand against her was like +striking a fallen foe. She would think that he was no longer sorry--that he +was glad to repay the wrong she had done him. + +In the mean time, Edny Ann had told the story of the theft to one and +another, and Lizay found at night the "quarter" humming with it. Taunts and +jeers met her on every hand. Stealing from white folks the negroes regarded +as a very trifling matter, since they, the slaves, had earned everything +there was: but to steal from "a po' nigger" was the meanest thing in their +decalogue. + +"Stealin' from her beau!" sneered one negro, commenting on Little Lizay's +offence. + +"An' her sweet'art!" said another. + +"An' her 'tendin' like her lubbed 'im!" + +"An' Als'on can't pick cotton fas', nohow, kase he ain't use ter +cotton--neber see'd none till he come yere--an' her know'd he'd git a +cowhidin'. It's meaner'n boneset tea," said Edny Ann. + +"A heap meaner," assented Cat. "Sich puffawmance's wusser'n stealin' acawns +frum a blin' hog." + +Over and over Little Lizay said, "I never stole Als'on's cotton;" and then +she would make her explanation, as she had made it to Edny Ann and Alston. +Often she was tempted to tell the whole story of how she had been all along +helping Alston at her own cost, but many motives restrained her. She +dreaded the jeers and jests to which the story would subject her, and +everything was to be feared from Mr. Buck's retaliation should he learn +that he had been tricked. Besides, she wished, if possible, to go on +helping Alston. She doubted, too, if he would receive it well that she had +been helping him. Might he not gravely resent it that through her action +such a pitiable part in the drama had been forced on him? Then there was +something sweet to Little Lizay in suffering all alone for Alston--in +having this secret unshared: she respected herself more that she did not +risk everything to vindicate herself, for this she could do: the steelyard +to-morrow would demonstrate the truth of her story. + +But the morrow came, and she went out to the field, her story untold, a +marked woman. Yet she was not comfortless. The something that Alston had +told her the previous day was making her heart sing. This is what he told +her: "While yer wus stealin' from me, Lizay, I wus he'pin' yer. I put a +ha'f er sack in yer baskit ter-day, an' a ha'f er sack yistiddy--kase I +liked yer, Lizay." + +She took her rows beside Alston's as usual, determined to watch for a +chance to help him. But when he moved away from her and took another row, +Lizay knew that the time had come. She couldn't stand it to have him strain +and tug and bend to his work as no other hand in the field did, only to be +disappointed at night. She could never bear it that he should be flogged +after all she had done to save him from the shame. She could never live +through it--the cowhiding of her hero by the detested overseer. Yes, the +time had come: she must tell Alston. + +She went over to where he had begun a new row. "Yer don't b'lieve the tale +I tole yistiddy, Als'on: yer's feared I'll steal yer cotton ter-day," she +said. + +"I don't wish no talk 'bout it, Lizay," Alston said. His tone was half sad, +half peremptory. + +"Yer mustn't feel haud agin me ef I tells you somethin', Als'on. Yer's been +puttin' cotton in my baskit unbeknownst ter save me some lashes, an' yer +throw'd it up ter me yistiddy. Now, look yere, Als'on: I's been he'pin' yer +all this week, ever since Mr. Buck said yer got ter git a hunderd. Ev'ry +day I's he'ped yer git up ter a hunderd." + +Alston had stopped picking, both his hands full of cotton, and stood +staring in a bewildered way at the girl. "Lizay, is this a fac'?" he said +at length. + +"'Tis so, Als'on; an' ef yer don't lemme he'p yer now yer'll fall 'hin' an' +have ter git flogged." + +"An' ef yer he'p me, yer'll fall shawt an' have ter git flogged. Oh, Lizay, +thar' never was nobody afo' would er done this yer fer me," Alston said, +feeling that he would like to kiss the poor shoulders that had been +scourged for him. Great tears gathered in his eyes, and he thought without +speaking the thought, "My wife in Virginny wouldn't er done it." + +"So yer mus' lemme he'p yer ter-day," said Little Lizay. + +"I'll die fus'," he said in a savage tone. + +"Oh, yer'll git a whippin', Als'on, sho's yer bawn." + +"No: I won't take a floggin' from that brute." + +"Oh, Als'on, yer jis' got ter: yer can't he'p the miserbulness. No use +runnin' 'way: they'd ketch yer an' bring yer back. Thar's nigger-hunters +an' blood-houn's all roun' this yer naberhood. Yer couldn't git 'way ter +save yer life." + +"Look yere, Lizay," Alston said with sudden inspiration: "le's go tell +Mos' Hawton all 'bout it. Ef he's a genulman he'll 'ten' ter us. They won't +miss us till night, an' 'fo' that time we'll be in Memphis. Yer knows the +way, don't yer?" + +"Yes," Lizay said; "an' I reckon that's the bes' thing we kin do--go tell +moster an' mistis. But, law! I ought er go pull off this yere ole homespun +dress an' put on my new cal'ker." + +"I reckon we ain't got no time ter dress up," said Alston. "We mus' start +quick: come 'long. Le's hide our baskits fus' whar' the cotton-stalks is +thick." + +This they did, and then started off at a brisk pace, their flight concealed +by the tall cotton-plants. They reached Memphis about eleven o'clock, and +found Dr. Horton at home, having just finished his lunch. They were +admitted at once to the dining-room, where the doctor sat picking his +teeth. He had never seen Alston, as the new negroes had been bought by an +agent. + +"Sarvant, moster!" Alston said humbly, but with dignity. + +"Howdy, moster?" was Little Lizay's more familiar salutation. + +"I's Als'on, one yer new boys from Ol' Virginny." + +"You're a likely-lookin' fellow," said the doctor, who was given to +dropping final consonants in his speech. "I reckon I'll hear a good report +of you from Mr. Buck. You look like you could stan' up to work like a +soldier. But what's brought you and Little Lizay to the city? Anything gone +wrong?" + +"Yes, moster," said Alston--"mighty wrong. Look yere, Mos' Hawton: when I +come on yer plantation I made up my min' ter sarve yer faithful--ter wuck +fer yer haud's I could--ter strike ev'ry lick I could fer yer. When I hoed +cawn an' pulled fodder I went 'head er all the han's on yer plantation. But +when I went ter pick cotton I wusn't use ter it. I wuckt haud's I could, +'fo' day an' arter dark. Mos' Hawton, I couldn't pick a poun' more'n I pick +ter save my life. But I wus 'hin' all t'other han's. Then Mos' Buck wus +goin' ter flog me ef I didn't git a hunderd: then Little Lizay, her he'ped +me unbeknownst: ev'ry day she puts cotton in my baskit ter fetch it ter a +hunderd, an' that made her fall 'hin' las' year's pickin'; then ev'ry night +she was stripped an' cowhided; but she kep' on he'pin' me, an' kep' on +gettin' whipped. I dun know what she dun it fer: 'min's me uv the Laud on +the cross." + +Dr. Horton knew what she did it for. His knightliness was touched to the +quick. The story made him wish as never before to be a better master than +he had ever been to his poor people. He asked many questions, and drew +forth all the facts, Lizay telling how Alston was helping her while she was +helping him. Dr. Horton saw that here was a romance in slave-life--that the +man and woman were in love with each other. + +"Well, if you can't pick cotton," he said to Alston, "what can you do?" + +"Mos' anything else, moster. I kin do ev'rything 'bout cawn; I kin split +rails; I kin plough; I kin drive carriage." + +"Could you run a cotton-gin?" + +"Reckon so, moster: the black folks says it's tolerbul easy." + +"Well, now, look here: you and Lizay get some dinner, an' then do you take +a back-trot for the plantation. I'll sen' Buck a note: no, he can't more'n +half read writin'. Well, do you tell him, Alston, to put you to ginnin' +cotton: Little Sam mus' work with you a few days till you get the hang of +the thing; an' then I want you to show that plantation what 'tis to serve +master faithfully. You see, I believe in you, my man." + +"Thanky, moster. I'll wuck fer yer haud's I kin. Please God, I'll sarve yer +faithful." + +"Of cou'se, Lizay, you'll go back to pickin' cotton, an' don't let me hear +any mo' of you' nonsense--helpin' a strappin' fellow twice you' size. An' +tell Buck I won't have him whippin' any my negroes ev'ry night in the week. +Confound it! a mule couldn't stan' it. If I've got a negro that needs +floggin' ev'ry night, I'll sell him or give 'im away, or turn 'im out to +grass to shif' for himself. I'll be out there soon, an' 'ten' to things. If +anybody needs a floggin', tell Buck to send 'im to me. Tell the folks to +work like clever Christians, an' they shall have a fus'-rate Christmas--a +heap of Christmas-gifts." + +"Yes, moster." + +"Do you an' Lizay want to get married right away, or wait till Christmas?" + +Alston and Little Lizay looked at each other, smiling in an embarrassed +way. + +"But, moster," said Alston, "I's got a wife an' fou' childun in Ol' +Virginny, an' I promused I'd wait an' wouldn't git morred ag'in tell she'd +write ter me ef her moster'd sell her; an' I was goin' ter ax yer ter buy +'er." + +"You needn't pester yourself about that. I got a letter for you the other +day from her," the doctor said, fumbling in his pockets. + +"Yer did, sah?" Alston said with interest. + +"Yes: here it is. Can you read? or shall I read it to you?" + +"Ef yer please, moster." + +Then Dr. Horton read: + +"MY DEAR B'LOVED HUSBUN': Miss Marthy Jane takes my pen in han' ter let yer +know I's well, an' our childun's well, an' all the black folks is tolerbul +well 'cept Juno: her's got the polsy tolerbul bad. All the white folks +'bout yere is will 'cept mistis: her's got the dumps. All the childun say, +Howdy? the black folks all says, Howdy? an' Pete says, Howdy? an' Andy +says, Howdy? an' Viny says, Howdy? an' Cinthy says, Howdy? an' Tony Tucker +says, Howdy? and Brudder Thomas Jeff'son Hollan' says, Howdy? Last time I +see'd Benj'man Franklins Bedfud, he says, ''Member, an' don't fawgit, the +fus' time yer writes, ter tell Als'on, Howdy?' + +"Yer 'fectionate wife, CHLOE." + +"P.S. Mistis says her can't spaw me, so 'tain't no use waitin' no longer +fer me. 'Sides, I got 'gaged ter git morred: I wus morred Sundy 'fo' las' +at quat'ly meetin'. Brudder Mad'son Mason puffawmed the solemn cer'mony, +an' preached a beautiful discou'se. Me an' my secon' husbun' gits 'long +fus'-rate. I fawgot ter tell yer who I got morred to. I got morred to +Thomas Jeff'son Hollan'." + +"So you're a free man," said Dr. Horton, folding the letter and handing it +to Alston. "You an' Little Lizay can get married to-day, right now, if you +wish to. Uncle Moses can marry you: he's a member of the Church in good an' +regular standin': I don't know but he's an exhorter, or class-leader, or +somethin'. What do you say? Shall I call him in an' have him tie you +together?" + +"Thanky, moster, ef Little Lizay's willin'.--Is yer, Lizay?" + +"I reckon so," said Lizay, her heart beating in gladness. But she +nevertheless glanced down at her coarse field-dress and thought with +longing of the new calico in her cabin. + +So Uncle Moses was called in, and Mrs. Horton and all the children and +servants. + +"Uncle Moses," said Dr. Horton, "did you ever marry anybody?" + +"To be sho', Mos' Hawton. I's morred--Lemme see how many wives has I morred +sence I fus' commenced?" + +"Oh, I don't mean that;" and Dr. Horton proceeded to explain what he did +mean. + +"No," said Moses. "I never done any that business, but reckon I could: I's +done things a heap hauder." + +"Well, let me see you try your han' on this couple." + +"Well," said Uncle Moses, "git me a book: got ter have a Bible, or +hymn-book, or cat'chism, or somethin'." + +The doctor gravely handed over a pocket edition of _Don Quixote_, which +happened to lie in his reach. + +Uncle Moses took it for a copy of the _Methodist Discipline_, and made +pretence of seeking for the marriage ceremony. At length he appeared +satisfied that he had the right page, and stood up facing the couple. + +"Jine boff yer right han's," he solemnly commanded. Then, with his eyes on +the book, he repeated the marriage service, with some remarkable +emendations. "An' ef yer solemnly promus," he said in conclusion, "ter lub +an' 'bey one 'nuther tell death pawts yer, please de Laud yer lib so long, +I pernounces boff yer all man an' wife." + +Then the mistress looked about and got together a basket of household +articles for the new couple. Bearing this between them, Alston and Little +Lizay went back to the plantation and to their unfinished rows of cotton, +happy, poor souls! pathetic as it seems. + +SARAH WINTER KELLOGG. + + + + +THE BASS OF THE POTOMAC. + + +Some twenty-five years ago Mr. William Shriver, a primitive pisciculturist, +took from the Youghiogheny River eleven black bass, and conveyed them in +the tank of the tender of a locomotive to Cumberland, in the coal-region of +Western Maryland. There he deposited them in the Potomac, with the +injunction which forms the heraldic motto of the State of +Maryland--_Crescite et multiplicamini_. The first part of this excellent +precept they obeyed by proceeding to devour all the aboriginal fish in the +river, and waxing extremely hearty upon the liberal diet. The second they +performed with a diligence so commendable that the name of them in the +river became as legion, and the original possessors of the waters were +steadily extirpated or took despairingly to small rivulets, and led ever +after a life of undeserved ignominy and obscurity. There were bass in the +river from the Falls of the Potomac, near Georgetown, to a point as near +its source as any self-respecting fish could approach without detriment to +the buttons on his vest by reason of the shallowness of the water. They +were in all its tributaries, and in fact monopolized its waters completely. +Had the supply of small fish for food held out, it is impossible to say to +what extent they would have increased. They might in their numerical +enormity have rivalled the condition of that famous river, the Wabash, +which in a certain season of excessive dryness became so low that a local +journal of established veracity described the fish as having to stand upon +their heads to breathe, and while in that constrained attitude being pulled +by the inhabitants like radishes in a garden. + +It has been contended by some ichthyologists that the black bass does not +eat its own kind, but the spectacle which I recently beheld of a +four-pounder, defunct and floating on the water, with the tail and half the +body of a ten-ounce bass sticking out of his distended mouth, affords but +inadequate confirmation of their views. I sat upon the bass in question, +and rendered a verdict of "choked to death, and served him right." He had +swallowed the younger fish, who, for aught he knew to the contrary, or +cared, might have been his own son; and his confidence in his capacity +being ably supported by his appetite, he undertook a contract to which he +was unequal in the matter of expansion. He couldn't disgorge, being in the +predicament of the boa-constrictor who swallows a hen head first, and finds +her go against the grain when he would fain reconsider the subject. The +head of the inside fish was partially digested, but that process had +imparted no gratification to either party, and both were defunct, mutually +immolated upon the altar of gluttony. It is not an uncommon thing to find +them dead in that condition, for their appetites are ravenous, and lead +them into indiscretions more or less serious in their consequences. + +There can be no doubt of their having regarded as a delicate attention the +action some few years since of the Maryland Fish Commissioner in placing +several thousand young California salmon in the river. Those salmon have +never been seen or heard of since; but, although the bass for some time had +a guilty look about them, it is hardly fair to let them remain under so +grievous an imputation as is implied in the whole responsibility for the +fate of the California emigrants. The fact is, that at Georgetown the +Potomac River makes a very abrupt change in its grade, and the Great Falls, +as they are called, are both picturesque and arduous of passage. The +salmon, being of luxurious habit, betakes him each year to the seaside, and +at the end of the season returns in a connubial frame of mind to the spot +endeared to him by his early associations. It is quite possible that these +particular salmon when on their way to the purlieus of marine fashion were +somewhat discouraged at the jar and shock incident to their transit over +the Falls. They may have concluded that the locality was unpropitious for +the return trip, and then, consulting with salmon whose lines had been cast +in more pleasant places, they may have ascended rivers of more conspicuous +natural attractions and more agreeable to fish of cultivated habits. + +The habits of the black bass may be described as generally bad. It is a +fish devoid of any of the cardinal virtues. It is ever engaged in +internecine war, and will any day forego a square meal for the sake of a +fight. It gorges itself like a python, and when hooked is as game as a +salmon, and quite as vigorous in proportion to size. In the Potomac it has +been known to weigh as much as six pounds, but bass of that weight are very +rare, from three to four pounds being the average of what are known as good +fish. These afford excellent sport, and are taken with a variety of bait. +The habitues of the river commonly employ live minnow, chub, catfish, +suckers, sunfish--in fact, any fish under six inches in length. The bass +has also a well-marked predilection for small frogs, or indeed for frogs of +any dimensions. It sometimes rises well at a gaudy, substantial fly or a +deft simulation of a healthy Kansas grasshopper; but fishermen have noticed +that the largest fish despise flies, much as a person of a full roast-beef +habit may be supposed to turn up his nose at a small mutton-chop. In other +rivers they take the fly quite freely, but in the Potomac they have had +that branch of their education greatly neglected. In the matter of +vitality they are simply extraordinary: they cling to life with a tenacity +that very few fish exhibit. In the spring or fall, when the water and the +air are at a comparatively low temperature, a bass will live for eight or +ten hours without water. The writer has brought fifty fish, weighing on an +average two and three-quarter pounds, from Point of Rocks to Baltimore, a +distance of seventy-two miles, and after they had been in the air six hours +has placed them in a tub of water and found two-thirds of the number +immediately "kick" and plunge with an amount of energy and ability that +threw the water in all directions. These fish had been caught at various +times during the day, and as each was taken from the hook a stout leather +strap was forced through the floor of its mouth beneath its tongue, and the +bunch of fish so secured allowed to trail overboard in the stream. They +were thus dragged all day against a powerful current, but never showed any +symptoms of "drowning." In the evening they were strung upon a stout piece +of clothes-line, and after lying for some time on the railway platform were +transferred to the floor of the baggage-car, and so transported to the +city. It is quite evident that we do not live in the fear of Mr. Bergh. But +what is one to do? The fish is not to be discouraged except by the +exhibition of great and brutal violence. In fact, bass will not be induced +to decently decease by any civilized process short of a powerful shock from +a voltaic pile administered in the region of their _medulla oblongata_. Of +course, one cannot be expected to carry about a voltaic pile and go hunting +for the medullary recesses of a savage and turbulent fish. On the other +hand, one may batter the protoplasm out of a refractory subject by the aid +of a small rock, but it won't improve the fish's looks or cooking +qualities. It may seem like high treason to mention, moreover, at a safe +distance from Mr. Bergh, that euthanasia in animals designed for the table +does not always improve their quality, and in fact that the linked misery +long drawn out of a protracted dissolution imparts a certain tenderness and +flavor to the flesh that it would not otherwise possess. Should that +excellent and most estimable gentleman regard this statement with a +sceptical eye, let it be here stated that the bass should be recently +killed, split, crimped and broiled to a delicate brown, with a little good +butter and a sprinkling of pepper, salt and chopped parsley. Should he +pursue the subject upon this basis, he will not be the first gentleman who +has surrendered his convictions and compounded a culinary felony upon +favorable terms. + +Below Harper's Ferry there is one of the most picturesque reaches of the +Potomac River. From the rugged heights that frown upon that historic and +lovely spot, where the Shenandoah strikes away through the pass that leads +to the broad and beautiful Valley of Virginia, and where John Brown's +memory struggles through battered ruins and the invading smoke of the +unhallowed locomotive, the river chafes from side to side of the stern +defile that hems it in and curbs its restless waters. Great walls of dark +rocks, crested by serried ranks of solemn pines, stand guard above its +fitful, surging flood, and against the dark blue calm and misty depth of +its gorge the pale smoke rises in a quiet column above the mills and houses +that nestle by the river's bed. Huge boulders stem the current, and the +rocks stand out in shelves and rugged ridges, around which the stream +whirls swiftly and sweeps off into broad dark pools in whose green, +mysterious depths there should be noble fish. Below, the river widens and +has long placid reaches, but for the most part its banks are precipitous, +and the deep water runs along the trunks and bares the roots of great trees +whose branches stretch far out over its surface. Occasionally, the +mountains recede and form a vast amphitheatre, clad in primeval forest, and +there are islands on which vegetation runs riot in its unbridled luxury, +and weaves festoons of gay creepers to conceal the gaunt skeletons of the +endless piles of dead drift-wood. All is in the most glorious green--a very +extravagance of fresh and brilliant color--relieved with the bright +purples and tender leafing of the flowering shrubs and vines that +intertwine among its heavy jungle. Upon the broad, flat rocks one may see +dozens of stolid "sliders," or mud-turtles, some of great size, basking in +the sun like so many boarders at a country hotel. They crowd upon the rocks +as thickly as they can, and blink there all day long unless disturbed by +the approach of a boat, when they dive clumsily but quickly. Occasionally, +one sees an otter, with seal-like head above the surface of the water, +swimming swiftly from haunt to haunt in pursuit of the bass; and small +coteries of summer ducks fly swiftly from sedge to sedge. + +The acoustic properties of the river would make an architect die with envy. +The light breeze bears one's conversation audibly for half a mile; one +hears the splash of a fish that jumps a thousand yards away; and the grim +cliffs at the foot of which the canal winds in and out take up the +profanity of the towpath and hurl it back and forth across the river as if +it was great fun and all propriety. The stalwart exhortations and clean-cut +phraseology of the mule-drivers and the notes of the bugles go ringing over +to Virginia's shore, and fill the air with cadences so sweet and musical +that they sound like the pleasant laughter of good-humored Nature, instead +of the well-punctuated and diligent ribaldry of the most profane class of +humanity in existence. It is perfectly startling and frightful to hear an +objurgation of the most utterly purposeless and ingeniously vile +description transmitted half a mile with painful distinctness, and then +seized by a virtuous and reproachful echo and indignantly repelled in +disjointed fragments. + +"Y'ill take care, sorr, an' sit fair in the middle of the shkiff," said Mr. +McGrath as I got into his frail craft at five o'clock in the morning on the +bank of the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal near Point of Rocks. "It's +onconvanient to be outside of the boat whin we're going through them locks. +There were a gintleman done that last year, an' he come near lavin' a lot +of orphans behind him." + +"How was that, McGrath?" said I. + +"Begorra! the divil a child had he," he replied. + +"But do you mean that he was drowned?" I asked. + +"Faith, an' he was that, sorr--complately." + +I promised Mr. McGrath that I would observe his instructions carefully, and +that gentleman, after placing the rods, live-bait bucket, luncheon-basket +and other articles on board, took his seat in the bow, and we proceeded. We +had two boats for my companion and myself, and an experienced man in each. +Mr. McGrath had fallen to my lot, and my companion had a darkey named Pete. +We were to go up the canal some four miles, and then, launching the boats +into the river, were to fish slowly down with the current. We had a horse +and tow-rope, and a small boy, mounted on the animal, started off at a +smart trot. It was quite exhilarating, and the boats dashed along merrily +at a capital rate. A gray mist hung low on the river, and thin wraiths of +it rose off the water of the canal and crept up the mountain-side, +shrouding the black pines and hiding the summit from view. Beyond, the tops +of the hills on the Virginia shore were beginning to blush as they caught +the first rays of sunrise, and the fish-hawk's puny scream echoed from the +islands in the stream. It was a lovely morning, and promised a day, as Mr. +McGrath observed, on which some elegant fish should die. After a few delays +at locks, in which canal-boats took precedence of us, we reached our point +of transshipment, hauled the boats out on the bank, and our horse drew them +sleigh-fashion across field and down to and out into the water. + +I had a light split bamboo rod, a good silk line and a fair assortment of +flies. Mr. McGrath had a common bamboo cane, a battered old reel, and the +value of his outfit might be generously estimated at half a dollar. In his +live-bait bucket were about a hundred fish, varying in length from two to +six inches. He did not prepare to fish himself, but was watching me with +the deepest attention. He held the boat across the stream toward the +opposite shore, and by the time we dropped down on a large flat rock I was +ready. I got out, and there being a pleasant air stirring, I made my casts +with a great deal of ease and comfort. There was a deep hole below the +rocks, bordered on both sides by a swift ripple--as pretty a spot as ever a +fly was thrown over. I sped them over it in all directions, casting fifty +and sixty feet of line, and admiring the soft flutter with which they +dropped on the edge of the ripple or the open water. Mr. McGrath was +surveying the operation critically, nodding his head in approval from side +to side, and uttering short ejaculations of the most flattering nature. I +kept whipping the stream assiduously, so satisfied with my work and the +style of it as to feel confident that no well-regulated fish could resist +it. But there was no appearance of a rise: not a sign appeared on the water +to show even the approach of a speculative fish. I was about to note the +fact to Mr. McGrath when that gentleman remarked, "Begorra! but it's +illigant sport it'd be if the bass 'ud only bite at them things!" + +"Bite at them?" said I, turning round: "of course they'll bite at them." + +"Sorra bit will they, sorr. It's just wondherin' they are if them things up +above is good to ate, but they're too lazy to step up an' inquire. Augh, be +me sowl! but it's the thruth I tell you. Now, if it was a dacent throut +that were there, he'd be afther acceptin' yer invite in a minit; but them +bass--begorra! they're not amaynable to the fly at all." + +Now, if there is anything that I have been brought up to despise, it is +fishing with "bait." Fly-fishing I have learned to regard as the only +legitimate method of taking any fish that any sportsman ought to fish for, +and fishing with a worm and a cork I always looked upon as equal to +shooting a partridge on the ground in May. I did not believe Mr. McGrath, +and I told him, as I resumed my graceful occupation, that I didn't think +there were any fish there to catch. The idea of their rejecting flies +served up as mine were was too preposterous. + +"Well," said he, "ye may be right, sorr: there may be none there at all; +but I'll thry them wid a bait, anyhow." + +In another minute Mr. McGrath was slashing about right and left a bait +which to my disordered vision looked as big as a Yarmouth bloater. He threw +it in every direction with great vigor and precision, and, as I could not +help noticing, with very little splashing. I turned away with emotion, and +continued my fly-fishing. Presently I heard an exclamation from Mr. +McGrath, quickly succeeded by an ominous whirring of his reel. + +"Luk at the vagabone, sorr! luk at him now! Run, ye divil ye! run!" he +cried as he facilitated the departure of the line, which was going out at a +famous rate. "Bedad! he's a fine mikroptheros! Whisht! he's stopped.--Take +that, ye spalpeen ye!" + +As he said this he gave his rod a strong jerk, that brought the line up +with a "zip" out of the water in a long ridge, and the old bamboo cane bent +until it cracked. At the same moment, about a hundred and fifty feet away, +a splendid fish leaped high and clear out of the water with the line +dangling from his mouth. Mr. McGrath had struck him fairly, and away he +went across stream as hard as he could tear. + +"Take the rod, sorr, while I get the landing-net. Kape a tight line on him, +sorr: niver let him deludher ye. It's an illigant mikroptheros he is, +sure!" + +He returned from the boat in a moment with the landing-net, but absolutely +refused to take back his rod: "Sorra bit, sorr: bring him in. It's great +fun ye'll have wid the vagabone in that current! No, sorr: bring him in +yerself, sorr: ye'll niver lay it at my door that the first fish hooked +wasn't brought in." + +I didn't need any instructions, and as the fish ran for a rock some +distance off, I brought him up sharply, and he jumped again as wickedly as +he could full three feet out of the water, and came straight toward us with +a rush. It was no use trying, I couldn't reel up quick enough, and he was +under the eddy at our feet before I had one-third of the line in. +Fortunately, he was securely hooked, and there was no drop out from the +slacking of the line. He was in about twelve feet of water, and as I +brought the line taut on him again he went off down stream as fast as ever. +I had the current full against him this time, and I brought him steadily up +through it, and held him well in hand. I swept him around in front of Mr. +McGrath's landing-net, but he shied off so quickly that I thought he would +break the line. Away down he went as stiffly and stubbornly as possible, +and there he lodged, rubbing his nose against a rock and trying to get rid +of the hook. Half a dozen times I dislodged him and brought him up, but he +was so wild and strong I did not dare to force him in. At last he made a +dash for the ripple, and I gave him a quick turn, and as he struck out of +it Mr. McGrath had his landing-net under him in a twinkling, and he was out +kicking on the rock. He weighed four pounds six ounces, and furnished +conclusive evidence that a bass of that weight can give a great deal of +very agreeable trouble before he will consent to leave his element. + +"What was it," said I, "that you called him when you struck him just now?" + +"What did I call him, sorr? A mikroptheros, sorr." + +"And for Goodness' sake, McGrath, what is a mikroptheros?" + +"Begorra! that's what it is," said Mr. McGrath, throwing the bass overboard +to swim at the end of its leathern thong. + +"Well!" said I in amazement. "I never heard such a name as that for a fish +in all my life!--a mikroptheros!" + +"Divil a more or less!" said Mr. McGrath decidedly. "The Fish Commissioner +wor up here last week, an' sez he to me, sez he, 'It's a mikroptheros, so +it is.'--'What's that?' sez I.--'That!' sez he; and he slaps him into an +illigant glass bottle of sperrits, as I thought he was goin' to say to me, +'McGrath, have ye a mouth on ye?' an' I as dhry as if I'd et red herrin's +for a week. 'Yis,' sez he to me, 'that's the right name of him;' and wid +that he writes it on a tag, and he sends it off, this side up wid care, to +the musayum. Sure I copied it: be me sowl, an' if ye doubt me word, here +it is." + +Mr. McGrath handed me a piece of paper torn off the margin of a newspaper, +on which he had written legibly enough, "_Micropteros Floridanus_" I read +it as gravely as I could, smiled feebly at my own ignorance, and returned +it to him, saying, "Upon my word, McGrath, you are perfectly right. What a +blessing it is to have had a classical education!" + +"Sorra lie in it," said he proudly as he replaced the slip in the crown of +his hat; "an' it's meself that's glad of it." + +I can but throw myself upon the mercy of every respectable disciple of the +art before whom this confession may come when I say that during this +conversation I was employed in taking off my flies and in substituting +therefor a strong bass-hook and a cork, after the effective fashion of Mr. +McGrath. When this never-to-be-sufficiently-despised device was ready I +took from the bucket a small and unhappy sunfish, immolated him upon my +hook by passing it through his upper and lower lips, and cast him out upon +the stream. The red top of the cork spun merrily down the current and out +among the oily ripples of the deep water below, but Mr. McGrath could beat +me completely in handling his. I noticed that I threw my fish so that it +struck hard upon the water, "knocking the sowl out of it," as he said, +while he threw his hither and thither with the greatest ease, always taking +care to do it with the least possible amount of violence, and keeping it +alive as long as possible. However, it was not long before my cork +disappeared with a peculiar style of departure abundantly indicative of the +cause, to which I replied by a vigorous "strike." My cork came up promptly, +and with it my hook, bare. The sunfish had found a grave within the natural +enemy of his species, and I had missed my fish. + +"Divvle a wondher!" said Mr. McGrath in reply to a remark to that +effect--"being, sorr, that ye're not familiar wid their ways. Ye see, sorr, +he comes up an' he nips that fish be the tail, an' away wid him to a +convanient spot for to turn him an' swallow him head first, by rason of his +sthickles an' fins all p'intin' the other way. Whin he takes it, sorr, jist +let him run away wid it as far as he likes, but the minit he turns to +swallow it, an' says to himself, 'What an illigant breakfast this is, to be +sure!' that minit slap the hook into his jaw, an' hould on to him for dear +life." + +These excellent instructions I obeyed with no little difficulty. My cork +came up in the back water under the rock on which I stood, and there, +almost at my very feet, it disappeared. I could not believe that a bass had +taken it, but all doubt on the subject was dispelled by the shrill whir of +my reel as the fine silk line spun out at a tremendous rate. The fish had +darted across the current, and only stopped after he had taken out over two +hundred feet of line. + +"Now, sorr, jist make a remark to him," whispered Mr. McGrath; and I struck +as hard as I could. "Illigant, begorra!" said he as the fish, maddened and +frightened, leaped out of the water. "Look at him looking for a dentist, +bedad!" + +It was peculiarly delightful to feel that fish pull--to get a firm hand on +him, and have him charge off with an impetuosity that involved more line or +broken tackle--to feel that vigorous, oscillating pull of his, and to note +the ease and strength with which he swam against the powerful current or +dashed across the boiling eddy below. + +It did not last long, however: he soon spent himself, and Mr. McGrath +received him with a graceful swoop of his landing-net and secured him. Four +more soon followed, all large fish--two to the credit of Mr. McGrath and +two to myself. When caught they are of a dark olive-green on the back and +sides, the fins quite black at the ends, and the under side white. They +change color rapidly, and as their vitality decreases become paler and +paler, turning when dead to a very light olive-green. The mouth in general +form resembles that of the salmon family, but the size is much larger in +proportion to the weight of the fish, and the arrangement of the teeth is +different. With its great strength and its "game" qualities it is not +surprising that it should afford a good deal of what is known as "sport." + +An attribute of man which is equivalent to a strong natural instinct is his +disposition to "do murder." This may account for his love of "sport," or it +may only be an hereditary trait derived from the period when he had not yet +concerned himself with agriculture, but slew wild beasts and used his +implements of stone to crack their bones and get the marrow out. The +instinct to slay birds, beasts and fishes is certainly strong within us, +whatever be its remote origin, and it is very little affected by what we +are pleased to call our civilization. Indeed, it is hardly to be believed +that one of the primitive lords of creation, stalking about in the +condition of gorgeous irresponsibility incident to the Stone Period, would +have lowered himself to the level of the kid-gloved example of the present +stage of evolution who fishes in Maine. It cannot be supposed that the +pre-historic gentleman would have disgraced himself by catching fish he +could not use. He never caught ten times as many of the _Salmo fontinalis_ +as he and all his friends could eat, and then threw the rest away to rot. +This kind of thing has prevailed to a great extent, but natural causes have +nearly brought it to an end. The wholesale slaughter of the fish has +reduced their numbers, and a surfeit of indecent sport can no longer be +indulged in. Such fishermen should be confined by law to a large aquarium, +in which the fish they most affected could be taught to undergo catching +and re-catching until the gentlemen had had enough. The fish might grow to +like it eventually, and submit as a purely business matter to being caught +regularly for a daily consideration in chopped liver and real flies. But +how our ancestor, just alluded to, would despise the sport of this +progressive age! With his primitive but natural acceptation of Nature's law +of supply and demand, what would he think of the gentlemen who killed fish +to rot in the sun or drove a few thousand buffaloes over a precipice--all +for sport? It is probably the propensity to "do murder" which accounts for +these things, for "sport," within decent and proper limits, is a good +thing, and has been favored by the best of men in all ages--fishing +particularly, because it predisposes to pleasant contemplation, to equity +of criticism in the consideration of most matters of life, and to no little +self-benignancy. No one knew this better (although Shakespeare himself was +a poacher) than Christopher North, and where more fitly could the brightest +pages of the _Noctes Ambrosianae_ have been conceived or inspired than when +their author was, rod in hand, on the banks of a brawling Highland +trout-stream? + +The fish had ceased to bite where we were, and at Mr. McGrath's suggestion +we dropped down the stream to where my friend and his darkey were. His +experience with the flies had been similar to mine, but he had too much +regard for his fine fly-rod, he said, to use it for "slinging round a bait +as big as a herring." He had taken it to pieces and put it away. He was +sitting with his elbows on his knees and a brier-root pipe in his mouth, +content in every feature, a perfect picture of Placidity on a Boulder. + +"Given up fishing?" I asked. + +"Not much," he replied: "I've caught nine beauties. Pete does all the work, +and I catch the fish." + +Sure enough, he had Pete, who was one of the best fishermen on the river, +fishing away as hard as he could. Whenever Pete hooked a fish my friend +would lay down his pipe and play the fish into the landing-net. "It's +beastly sport," he said: "if I wasn't so confoundedly lazy I couldn't stand +it at all.--Hello, Pete! got him?" + +"Yes, sah--got him shuah;" and Pete handed him the rod as the line spun +out. We watched the short struggle, and started down stream, leaving him to +his laziness just as he was settling back in the boat for a nap and telling +Pete not to wake him up unless the next was a big one. + +By noon we had thirty-two fish--a very fair and satisfactory experience. We +were about to change our position when we were detained by a tremendous +shouting from the other boat, about half a mile above us. + +"What's the matter with them, McGrath?" said I. + +"Bedad, sorr! I think it must be that bucket there in the bow," he replied, +pointing to the article, which contained our luncheon. + +I was quite satisfied that it was, and there being a cool spring about +forty feet above us on the bank on the Virginia side, we disembarked. In +the excitement of fishing I had not thought of luncheon, but now I found I +had a startling appetite. So had my friend and his assiduous darkey when +they came in and reported twenty fish. + +"Yes," he said, "I know we ought to have a good many more, but Pete is so +lazy. It was all I could possibly do to catch those myself." + +With a flat rock for a table, the grass to sit upon, and the bubbling music +of the little stream that flowed from the spring as an accompaniment, the +ham and bread and butter, the pickles and the hard-boiled eggs, and even +the pie with its mysterious leather crust and its doubtful inside of dried +peaches, tasted wonderfully well. We did not venture out upon the river +again until three o'clock, our worthy guides agreeing that the fish do not +bite well between noon and that hour, and both of us being disposed to rest +a little. My friend stretched himself on the thick grass, and when his pipe +was exhausted went fast asleep, and snored with great precision and power +to a mild sternutatory accompaniment by Mr. McGrath and Pete. I employed +myself in bringing up my largest bass from the boat to sit for his picture +in a little basin in the rock under the spring. After he had floundered +himself into a comparatively rational and quiet condition, much after the +fashion of a gentleman reluctant to have his portrait taken under the +auspices of the police, I succeeded in committing him to paper. He was a +handsome fish, and eminently deserving of the distinction thus conferred +upon him. + +Sleeping in the grass on a summer afternoon is a bucolic luxury I never +fully appreciated. When I stirred up my friend he was red, perspirational +and full of lively entomological suspicions. He slapped the legs of his +pantaloons vigorously in spots, moved his arms uneasily, took off his +shirt-collar and implored me to look down his back. + +"There's nothing there," I reported. "I know how it is myself: a fellow +always feels that way when he goes to sleep in the grass." + +"Any woodticks here?" he asked. + +"Begorra! plenty," said Mr. McGrath, sitting up. "They et a child," he +added with perfect seriousness of manner, "down here below last summer." +McGrath's eyes twinkled when my friend began to talk of peeling off and +jumping into the river after a general search. He was finally reassured, +and we started out. We had even better sport than in the morning, and +accumulated a splendid string of fish each. On the way down we passed two +boats in which were some gentlemen, evidently foreigners, engaged in +throwing flies with apparently the same results that we had attained in the +morning. + +"Do you know who those people are?" I asked McGrath. + +"I dunno, sorr," said he, "but I think they are from one of the legations +at Washington. They come up for a day's fishin' all along of the illigant +fishin' a party from the same place had one day last week I suppose;" and +he smiled. + +"How was that, McGrath?" + +"It wor last week, sorr; and I wor up the river be meself, an' I had thirty +illigant fish thrailin' undher the boat comin' down. It wor just where they +are I seen two boats full of gintlemen, an' I dhropped alongside. They wor +swells, sure. They had patint rods, an' patint reels, an' patint flies, an' +patint boots, an' patint coats, an' patint hats, an' the divil knows what. +Bedad! they wor so fine that sez I to meself, sez I, 'Bedad! if I wor a +bass I'd say, "Gintlemen, don't go to no throuble on my account: I'll git +into the boat this minit."'--'Been fishin', me man?' sez one of them to me. +'Sorra much, yer honor,' sez I.--'It's very strange, you know,' sez he, +'that they don't bite at all to-day. You haven't caught any, have +you?'--'Well, sorr,' sez I, 'I did dhrop on a few little ones as I come +down.'--'Oh, did you, really?' sez another one, puttin' a glass in his eye +and standin' up excited like. 'Why, my good man,' sez he, 'be good enough +to 'old them up, you know. We'd like so much to see them!'--Wid that, sorr, +I up wid the sthring as high as I could lift it, an' it weighin' nigh onto +a hundred pound. Well, they were that wild they didn't know what to make of +it. One of them sez, sez he, 'The beggar's been a hauling of a net, he +has.'--'Divvle a bit more than yerself,' sez I. 'There's me impliments, +an', what's more, if ye wor to stay here till next week the sorra fish can +ye ketch, because, bedad! ye dunno how.' Wid that they put their heads +together, and swore it ud disgrace them to go home to Washington without a +fish, you know; an' how much would I take for the lot? Sez I, 'I have +twenty-five more down here in a creel in the river: that's fifty-five,' sez +I. 'Ye can have the lot for twinty dollars.'--'It's a go,' sez he; an' ever +since that there's letters comin' up from Washington askin' if the wather +is in good ordher, and what is the accommodations? Bedad! I'm wondherin' if +them as we passed wouldn't be likin' a dozen or two on the same terms?" + +Nothing finishes up a day's bass-fishing better than a good hot supper of +broiled bass, country sausage, fried ham and eggs, and coffee. The cooking +can generally be managed, and the appetite is guaranteed. _Experto crede_. + +W. MACKAY LAFFAN. + + + + +THE CHRYSALIS OF A BOOKWORM. + + I read, O friend, no pages of old lore, + Which I loved well, and yet the winged days, + That softly passed as wind through green spring ways + And left a perfume, swift fly as of yore, + Though in clear Plato's stream I look no more, + Neither with Moschus sing Sicilian lays. + Nor with bold Dante wander in amaze, + Nor see our Will the Golden Age restore. + I read a book to which old books are new, + And new books old. A living book is mine-- + In age, two years: in it I read no lies-- + In it to myriad truths I find the clew-- + A tender, little child; but I divine + Thoughts high as Dante's in its clear blue eyes. + +MAURICE F. EGAN. + + + + +A LAW UNTO HERSELF. + +CHAPTER X. + + +Miss Fleming arrived that evening while Jane was on the water. She was in +the habit of coming out to the Hemlock Farm for a day's holiday, and went +directly to her own room as though she were at home. When she stepped +presently out on the porch, where the gentlemen had gone to smoke, a soft +black silk showing every line of her supple figure, glimpses of the rounded +arms revealed with every movement of the loose sleeves, one or two thick +green leaves in her light hair--ugly, quiet, friendly--they all felt more +at home than they had done before. There was a pitcher of punch by the +captain's elbow: she tasted it, threw in a dash of liquor, poured him out a +glass and sat down beside him, and he felt that a gap was comfortably +filled. + +"You have turned your back on Philadelphia, they tell me, Miss Fleming," +complained Judge Rhodes. "New York sucks in all the young blood of the +country--the talent and energy." + +"Oh, I came simply to sell my wares. New York is my market, but +Philadelphia will always be home to me," in her peculiar pathetic voice. "I +left good friends there," with one of her bewildering glances straight into +the judge's beady eyes, at which his flabby face was suffused with heat. + +"You do not forget your friends, that's certain," he said, lowering his +voice. "That was a delicate compliment, sending my portrait back to the +Exhibition. I felt it very much, I assure you." + +Cornelia bowed silently. Neither she nor the judge said anything about the +round-numbered cheque which he had sent her for it. In the moonlight they +preferred to let the affair stand on a sentimental basis. + +Mr. Van Ness meanwhile eyed Miss Fleming's pose and rounded figure with a +watery gleam of complacency. + +"An exceptional woman," was his verdict. He turned the conversation to art, +and asked innumerable questions with a profound humility. Cornelia replied +eagerly, until the fact crept out from the judge that there was not an +aesthetic dogma nor a gallery in the world with which he was not familiar. +Then to pottery, in which field his modesty was as profound, until the +judge pushed him, as it were, to a corner, when he acknowledged himself the +possessor of a few "nice bits." + +"I have some old Etruscan pieces which I should like you to see, Miss +Fleming," with his mild, deprecating cough, "and a bit of Capo di Monte, +and the only real specimen of Henri Deux in the country." + +"I must see them," emphatically. "Where are your cabinets?" + +"Oh, nowhere," with a shrug. "My poor little specimens have never been +unpacked since I returned to this country. They are boxed up in a friend's +cellar." + +"God bless me, Cornelia!" cried the captain in a muffled tone, "how could +Mr. Van Ness spend his time koo-tooing to cracked pots? He has, as I may +say, the future of Pennsylvania in his hand. When I think what he is doing +for the friendless children--thousands of'em--" The punch had heated the +captain's zeal to the point where words failed him. + +After that the friendless children swept lighter subjects out of sight. Mr. +Van Ness, whose humility in this light rose to saintly heights, had all the +statistics of the Bureaux of Charity at his tongue's end. He had studied +the Dangerous Classes in every obscure corner of the world. He could give +you the _status quo_ of any given tribe in India just as easily as the +time-table on the new railway in Egypt. No wonder that he could tell you in +a breath the percentage of orphans, deserted minors, children of vicious +parents, in his own State, and the amount _per capita_ required to civilize +and Christianize them. As he talked of this matter his eyes became +suffused with tears. The great Home for these helpless wards of the State +he described at length, from its situation on a high table-land of the +Alleghanies and the dimensions of the immense buildings down to the +employments of the children and the capacity of the laundry--a perfect +Arcadia with all the modern improvements, where Crime was to be transformed +wholesale into Virtue. + +"Where is this institution?" asked Miss Fleming. "It is strange I never +heard of it." + +"Oh, it is not built as yet: we have not raised the funds," Mr. Van Ness +replied with a smothered sigh. + +The judge patted one foot and looked at him compassionately. It was a +devilishly queer ambition to be the savior of those dirty little wretches +in the back alleys. But if a man had given himself up, body and soul, to +such a pursuit, it was hard measure that he must be thwarted in it. + +Miss Fleming also bent soft sympathetic eyes on her new friend. The Home +was not built, eh? Not a brick laid? She wondered whether that box with the +priceless treasures existed in his friend's cellar or in his brain: she +wondered whether he had not seen those pictures of the old masters in +photographs, or whether he had travelled in Japan and the obscure corners +of the earth in the flesh or in books. There was more than the wonted +necessity upon her to establish sympathetic relations with this new man: +she had never seen a finer presence: the beard and brow quite lifted his +masculinity into aesthetic regions; she caught glimpses, too, of an +unfamiliar mongrel species of intellect with which she would relish +Platonic relations. Yet with this glow upon her she regarded the reformer's +noble face and benignant blond beard doubtfully, thinking how she used to +stick pins in brilliant bubbles when she was a child, and nothing would be +left but a patch of dirty water. + +"Jane is out on the river, as usual?" she asked presently. + +"Yes," said her father: "Mr. Neckart is with her. Neither of them will ever +stay under a roof if they can help it. They ought to have a dash of Indian +blood in their veins to account for such vagabondizing." + +"Is Bruce Neckart here?" with a change in her tone which made the captain +look up at her involuntarily. + +"Yes." + +"I thought he was in Washington: I did not expect to meet him." + +The judge puffed uneasily at his cigar. He was a family man, with a stout +wife and married son. He did not meet Miss Fleming once a year, but he felt +a vague jealousy of Neckart. + +"By the way, you must be old acquaintances?" he said abruptly. "Both from +Delaware? Kent county?" + +"Oh yes," with a shrill womanish laugh, very different from her usual sweet +boyish ha! ha! "Many's the day we rowed on the bay or dredged for oysters +together, dirty and ragged and happy. There is not very much difference in +our ages," seeing his look of surprise. "I look younger than I am, and +Bruce has grown old fast. At least, so I hear. I have not seen him for +years." + +She was silent after that, and preoccupied as her admirers had never seen +her, and presently, hearing Jane's and Neckart's steps on the path, she +rose hastily and bade them good-night. They each shook hands with her, that +being one of the sacred rites in the Platonic friendships so much in vogue +now-a-days among clever men and women. Mr. Van Ness offered his hand last, +and Cornelia smiled cordially as she took it. But it was clammy and soft. +She rubbed her fingers with a shudder of disgust as she hurried up to her +own room. There she walked straight to her glass and turned up the lamp +beside it, looking long and fixedly at her face. She knew with exactness +the extent of its ugliness and its power. + +"It is too late now even if it ever could have been," she said quietly, and +put out the light. Then she went to the window. Mr. Neckart had left Jane +inside, and, not joining the other men, turned back to the garden. She saw +the bulky dark figure as it passed under her window. + +She stretched out her hands as if for a caress, with the palms pressed +close. "Oh, Bruce!" she said under her breath. "Bruce!" + +After he had passed out of sight she stood thinking over all the men who +had made a comrade of her since she saw him last--how they had handled her +fingers and looked into her eyes; how her every thought and fancy had grown +common and unclean through much usage; how she had dragged out whatever +maidenly feeling she had in the old times, and made capital of it to bring +these companions to her who were neither lovers nor friends. + +"When I could not have the food which I wanted. I took the husks which the +swine did eat," she said, leaving the window, with a short laugh. "Well, I +could not die of starvation." + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + + +When Jane woke the next morning a bluebird was singing outside of the +window: she tried to mimic him before she was out of bed, and sang scraps +of songs to herself as she dressed. The captain heard her in his room +below, but pretended to be asleep when she came down as usual to lay out +his clothes, for, although she insisted that her father should have Dave as +a valet, she left him but little to do. + +Watching her from under the covers, the captain saw that she had left off +the black snood and tied her hair with a band of rose-colored ribbon. Her +lips were ruddy and her eyes alight: once or twice she laughed to herself. + +"What high day or holiday is it, Jane?" + +"Oh, every day is a high day now!" running to kiss him. "I was just +thinking how comfortable money is, and how glad I am that we have it," +glancing about delighted at his luxurious toilet appointments before the +low wood-fire. Then she spread out his dressing-gown and velvet +smoking-cap, and eyed with her head on one side the fine shirt and its +costly studs. + +"Do you remember the rag-carpet in your room which we thought such a +triumph? and the old tin shaving-cup? Now, my lord, look out upon your +estate!" opening the window. "Your musicians have come to waken you, and +your servitors stand without," as Buff tapped at the door with hot water. + +"He is as comfortable as a baby wrapped in lamb's wool," she thought as she +ran down the stairs. "And this air is so pure and the sun so bright! Oh, he +must grow strong here! Anybody would be cured here--anybody!" + +The captain followed her to the barnyard. It was one of her inexorable +prescriptions for him that he should drink a glass of warm milk-punch +before breakfast, and smell the cow's breath during the operation. She was +milking the white cow herself, while the pseudo sempstress, Nichols, waited +with the goblet, and the bandy-legged shoemaker, Twiss, stood on guard, +eyeing Brindle's horns suspiciously. + +"Now the glass! These are the strippings. Oh you'll soon learn, Betty! +You'll make butter as well as you used to make dresses badly." + +The little widow and Twiss laughed, as they always did at Jane's weak +jokes, and took the punch to the captain. She was the finest wit of her day +in their eyes. The hostler's boy ran down from the stable to speak to her. +She thought he had as innocent a face as she had ever seen. No doubt he +would have gone to perdition if Neckart had not rescued him. She stopped to +talk to him with beaming eyes, and meeting Betty's toddling baby took it up +and tossed it in the air, and then walked on, carrying the soft little +thing in her arms. The farm was like the Happy Valley this morning! God was +so good to her! She could warm and comfort all these people. Then she +turned into the woods and sat down on a fallen log. It was the place where +they had stopped to rest yesterday, Neckart lying at her feet. There was +the imprint still in the dead moss where his arm had lain. She looked +guiltily about, and then laid her hand in the broken moss with a quick +passionate touch. The baby caught her chin in its fingers. She hugged it to +her breast, and kissed it again and again. From the hemlock overhead a +tanager suddenly flashed up into the air with a shrill peal of song. Jane +looked up, her face and throat dyed crimson. Did he know? She glanced down +at the grass, at the friendly trees all alive with rustling and chirping. +The sky overhead was so deep and warm a blue to-day. It seemed as if they +all knew that he loved her. + +The captain found Mr. Neckart standing on the stoop listening to some sound +that came up from the woods. + +"It is Jane singing," he said. "You would not hear her once in a year. +Hereditary gift! In the old Swedish annals we read of the remarkable voices +of the Svens." + +"I never heard her sing before." Yet he had known at once that it was she. +It was the most joyous of songs, but there was a foreboding pathos in the +voice which moved him as no other sound had ever done. + +"You are not going before breakfast?" cried the captain. + +"Yes, and I shall not be able to come again for a long time. Say to Miss +Swendon--But no. I will go and bid her good-bye." + +He met her as she was crossing the plank thrown across the brook, and they +stopped by the little hand-rail, not looking directly at each other: "I +came to bid you good-morning." + +"Do you take the early train, then?" + +"Yes." He did not mean to tell her that he would not come again. The more +ordinary their parting the sooner she would forget it and him. He had +thought the matter out during the night, and being a man who was apt to +under-rate himself, was convinced that the feeling which she had betrayed +was but that transient flush of preference which any very young and +innocent girl is apt to give to the first man of whom she makes a +companion. + +"There is nothing in me likely to win enduring love from her. A more +intellectual woman, indeed--" He had gone over the argument again and +again. When he was out of sight her fancy would soon turn to this new +lover, so much better suited to her in every respect. For himself--But he +had no right, to think of himself. He struck that thought down fiercely +again as they stood together on the bridge. No more right than he would +have, were he dead, to drag down this young creature into his grave. + +He patted the child on the head as it clung to her dress, and talked of the +chance of more rain with perfect correctness and civility; and when Jane +managed to raise her eyes to his face she found it grave and preoccupied, +as it usually was over the morning papers. He saw Van Ness coming smiling +to meet her. + +"It is time for me to go," he said, his eyes passing slowly over her: then +with a hasty bow, not touching her hand, he struck through the woods to the +station, thinking as he went how she was standing then on the bridge in the +sunshine, with the man whom she would marry beside her. She looked after +him, her eyes full of still, deep content. He loved her. She had forgotten +everything else. + +"A perfect morning, Miss Swendon," said Mr. Van Ness, stroking his +magnificent golden beard. "You see just this deep azure sky above the +Sandwich Islands. Now, I remember watching such a dawn on Mauna Loa. Ah-h, +_you_ would have appreciated that. Our friend has gone, eh? Most active, +energetic man! I heard him tell your father he should not return soon +again." + +"Not return?" stopping in her slow walk. + +"No. It really must be impossible for an editor to spare time often for +visits to even such an Arcadia as this. No stock market or political news +in Arcadia, eh?" with a benevolent gurgle of a laugh. "Business! business! +Miss Swendon. Ah, how it engrosses the majority of men!" shaking his head +ponderously. + +She said nothing. It was as if she had been suddenly wakened out of a dream +in the crowd of a dusty market-place. He had gone back to the world, to his +real business and his real trouble. She, with her love and her intended +cure for him, was a silly fool wandering in a fantastic Arcadia. + +Miss Fleming was walking up and down on the porch as they came up, more +carefully dressed than usual. The captain had just told her that Neckart +had gone. + +"Ah? I'm very sorry," carelessly. "I should have been glad to see him +again. Though no doubt he has forgotten me." + +She went forward to meet Jane with a smile, but a withered gray look under +her eyes. "I have been making a tour of your principality," she said as +they went in to breakfast. "I see you have brought out a colony of +Philadelphia paupers. Twiss, and Betty, and the rest." + +"They were not paupers," said Jane, taking her place behind the urn. "Did +you see into what a great boy Top has grown? And Peter?" It gave her a warm +glow at heart to remember these people just now. At least, there her care +had not been fantastic or thrown away. + +"I hardly expected you to take up the role of guardian angel. It requires +study, after all, to play it successfully," pursued Cornelia with an +amiable smile, cutting her butter viciously.--"Very young girls are apt to +be impetuous in their charities, and damage more than they help," turning +to the judge. "These poor people, for instance. Betty had her kinsfolk +about her in Philadelphia, her church and her gossips. She complained +bitterly to me this morning that she 'had no company here but the cows: +Miss Swendon might as well have whisked her off into a haythen desart.'" + +"She complained to you!" cried the captain. "Why, the trouble and money +which Jane has given to that woman and her family! They were starving, I +assure you!" + +Jane listened at first with her usual quiet good-humor. Miss Fleming's +waspish temper generally amused her, as it would have done a man (if he was +not her husband). But she began to grow anxious. + +"You really think Betty is not contented here?" her hand a little unsteady +as she poured the cream into the cups. + +"Contented? She seems miserable enough. Home is home, you know, if it is +only a cellar and starvation. But perhaps"--with a shrug--"that class of +Irish are never happy without a grievance. Now, Twiss, it appears to me, +has just ground for complaint.--A shoemaker," turning to the judge a face +beaming with fun, "whom this young lady has transported and set down in +charge of gardens and hot-houses. He does not know a hoe from a mower, and +he is too old to learn. He had a good trade: now he has nothing." + +"But he could not live by his trade," cried Jane. + +"Well, cobbling is looking up now. In any case, you have pauperized him." + +"That's bad--bad! Now, in Virginia we used to feed everybody who came +along!" said the judge, shaking his head. "But I've learned wisdom in the +cities. Every bit of bread given to a beggar degrades human nature and rots +society to the core." + +"But suppose he is starving?" urged the captain. "The Good Samaritan wasn't +afraid of pauperizing that poor devil on the road." + +"Let him starve. He will have preserved his self-respect. The Good +Samaritan knew nothing of political economy, sir." + +Jane left her breakfast untasted. She understood nothing about political +economy, but she saw that she had done irreparable injury to these people +whom she had tried to serve--God knew with what anxiety and tenderness of +heart. In one case, at least, there had been no mistake. + +"Did you see Phil?" she said, turning with brightening countenance to Miss +Fleming. "We intend to have Phil educated. He is such a keen-witted little +fellow." + +Miss Fleming laughed outright now: "Mr. Neckart's protege? Yes, I saw him. +He has been stealing tobacco and money from Dave, it appears, ever since he +came, and was found out this morning. There was a horrible row in the +stable as I passed." + +"Of course he stole!" said the judge triumphantly. "I tell you, the more +efforts you make to reform the dangerous classes the more hardened you will +grow. It's hopeless--hopeless!" + +Her other listeners each promptly presented their theory. Like all +intelligent Americans, they were provided with theories on every social +problem, and were ready to hang it on an individual stable-boy or any other +nail of a fact which might offer. Jane alone sat silent. She did not hear +when her father spoke to her once or twice. + +"You are disappointed," Mr. Van Ness's soft soothing voice murmured in her +ear. "I know how these baffled efforts chill the heart. I will explain to +you the machinery which I propose to bring to bear on these classes." + +"I don't know anything about machinery or classes. Twiss and Betty were +friends of mine, and I tried to help them, and have failed." + +Miss Fleming, who was watching her furtively, saw her dull eyes raised +presently and rest on the captain, who with a red face and bursts of +laughter was telling one of his interminable stories. + +"This girl," Cornelia said to herself, "has everything which I have +not--beauty, wealth, Bruce Neckart's love. Yet she looks at that weak old +man as if he were all that was left her in the world." She had put Jane +before on the general basis of antipathy which she had to everything in the +world that was not masculine, but the feeling had kindled since last night +into active dislike. + +When breakfast was over and their guests had gone to their rooms to make +ready to meet the train, Jane decoyed the captain away to Bruno's kennel, +where he was tied during Mr. Van Ness's stay. Once out of sight she retied +his cravat, arranged his white hair to her liking, stroked his sunken +cheeks. Here was something actual and real. She knew now that she had never +had anything that was truly her own but the kind foolish face looking down +on her. She never would have anything more. Only an hour ago life had +opened for her wide and fair as the dawn: now it had narrowed to this old +hand in hers, to his breath, that came and went--O God, how feebly! + +"You are looking stronger to-day, father. You are gaining every day. Oh +that is quite certain! Very soon we shall have you as well and strong as +you were at forty." + +What if she had not had money this last year? He never could have lived +through it. God had been kind to her--kind! She pressed his hand to her +breast with a quick glance out to the bright sky. The Captain saw her chin +quivering. His own thoughts ran partly in the same line as hers. + +"Oh, I'm gaining, no doubt of it. Though I never could have pulled through +this year if we had had to live in the old way. God bless Will Laidley for +leaving the money as he did!" + +"It was not his to leave otherwise!" she cried indignantly. + +"Tut, tut, Jane! Of course it was his. By every law. He could have flung it +away where he chose; and he had a perfect right to do it." + +It was not God who had been kind to her, then: it was only that she had +stolen the money? + +"Come, Jenny: we must go back to the house." + +"In a moment, father. Go on: I will follow you." + +She walked up and down the tan-bark path for a while. She was sure of +nothing. Wherever she had done what seemed to her right and natural, she +was barred and checked by the world's laws and experience. She had brought +these starving wretches out of a hell upon earth into this paradise, and +even they laughed at her want of wisdom: the very money which was her own +in the sight of God, and which had lengthened her father's life, ought to +be given back to-day to the poor, its rightful owners. If there was any +other cause for her to fight blindly against the narrow matter-of-fact +routine which ruled her life, she did not name it even to herself. + +Looking toward the house, she saw her father escorting their guests to the +gate, where the carriage waited, David resplendent on the box. The captain +walked with a feeble kind of swagger: his voice came back to her in weak +gusts of laughter. She laid her hand on a tree, glancing about her with a +firm sense of possession. "The property is mine," she said, "and I'll keep +it as long as he lives, if all the paupers in the United States were +starving at the gates!" + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + +Mr. Van Ness returned to the Hemlock Farm at stated periods during the +summer. He had, to be plain, sat down before Jane's heart to besiege it +with the same ponderous benign calm with which he ate an egg or talked of +death. There was a bronze image of Buddha in the hall at the Farm, the gaze +of the god fixed with ineffable content, as it had been for ages, on his +own stomach. + +Jane went up to it one day after an hour's talk with Mr. Van Ness. "This +creature maddens me," she said. "I always want to break it into pieces to +see it alter." + +Little Mr. Waring, who had come with Van Ness, hurried up as a connoisseur +in bronzes, adjusting his eye-glasses. "Why, it is faultless, Miss +Swendon!" he cried. + +"That is precisely what makes it intolerable." + +Much of Jane's large, easy good-humor was gone by this time. She had grown +thin, was eager, restless, uncertain of what she ought or ought not to do, +even in trifles. + +Mr. Waring and Judge Rhodes were both at the Farm now. They ran over to New +York every week or two. Phil Waring was not a marrying man, but it was part +of his duty as a leader in society to be intimate with every important +heiress or beauty in the two cities. Out of sincere compassion to Jane's +stupendous ignorance he would sit for hours stroking his moustache, his +elbows on his knees, his feet on a rung of the chair, dribbling information +as to the nice effects in the Water-Color Exhibition, or miraculous "finds" +of Spode or Wedgwood in old junk-shops, or the most authentic information +as to why the Palfreys had no cards to Mrs. Livingstone's kettledrums, +while Jane listened with a quizzical gleam in her eyes, as she did to the +little bantam hen outside cackling and strutting over its new egg. + +"We must have you in society this winter," he urged. "It is a duty you owe +in your position. You have no choice about it." + +"You are right, Mr. Waring," called the captain from the corner where he +sat with Judge Rhodes. "The child must have friends in her own class." He +dropped his voice again: "The truth is, Rhodes, she has no ties like other +girls. Her dog and two or three old women and some children--that is all +she knows of life. It's enough while she has me. But I shall not be here +long, now. Not many months." + +The eyes of the two men met. + +"Does she know?" asked the judge after a while. + +"No." The captain's gaunt features worked: he trotted his foot to some +tune, looking down from the window and whistling under his breath. "It was +for this I sent for you," he added presently. "If I could only see her +settled, married, before I go! She is no more fit to be left alone in the +world than Bruno." + +The judge shook his head in gloomy assent. His own opinion was that Jane +would follow her own instincts in a dog-like fashion if her father was out +of the way, and God only knew where they would lead her! He had brought his +own girls, Rose and Netty, with him to visit her, in order that she might +have a domestic feminine influence upon her. They found, accidentally, that +she did not know a word of any catechism, and, terrified, loaned her +religious novels to convert her: she took them graciously, but never cut +the leaves. There were to them even more heathenish indications in her +hoopless straight skirts: the good little creatures zealously cut and +trimmed a dress for her from the very last patterns. She put it on, and +straightway went through bog and brake with Bruno for mushrooms, coming +back with it in tatters. They chattered in their thin falsetto voices the +last Culpepper gossip into her patient ear--the story of Rosey's balls at +Old Point, and Netty's lovers, all of whom were "splendid matches until +impohverished by the war." She listened to their chirping with amused eyes, +tapping them, when they were through, approvingly on the head as though +they were clever canaries. The girls told their father that they "feared +her principles leaned toward infidelity, and that it was never safe to be +intimate with these original women," and had gone home the next day, not +waiting for the judge. They washed their hands of her, and gloved them +again, but he still felt responsible for her. After he left the captain he +went to her, fatherly interest radiant in every feature: "Mr. Waring is +right, Jane. It is high time that you were taking your part in society. +Your father wishes it." + +"I will do whatever he wishes," quietly.--"You did not know us when we +lived in the old house in Southwark, Mr. Waring. We invented our patents +then. Sometimes we could afford to go to the gallery at the theatre when +the play was good. Father and the newsboys would lead the clapping. And we +went once a year in our patched shoes a-fishing for a holiday. Those were +good times." + +"Perfect child of Nature!" telegraphed Mr. Waring uneasily to the judge. +"How Mrs. Wilde will rejoice in you, Miss Swendon! Nature is her specialty. +She is coming to call this morning.--Miss Swendon," turning anxiously to +the judge, "can have no better sponsor in society than Mrs. Wilde. She only +can give the accolade to all aspirants. No amount of money will force an +entrance at her doors. There must be blood--blood. 'Swendon?' she said when +I spoke to her about this call. 'The Swedish Svens? I remember. Queen +Christina's gallant lieutenant was her great-grandfather. Good stock. None +better. The girl must belong to our circle.' So, now it is all settled!" +rubbing his hands and smiling. + +"Jane is careless," said the captain eagerly. "People of the best fashion +have called, and she has not even left cards. Her dress too--Now a Paris +gown, fringes and--" + +The three men looked at her at that with a sudden imbecile despair, at +which she laughed and went out. + +The captain found her presently down by the boat in which she had heard +Neckart's story. She bailed it out and cleaned it carefully every day, but +she had never gone on the river in it since that night. + +"Father," stepping ashore, "what have I done that I must be turned into +another woman?" + +"Now, Jenny, making models and crabbing were well enough for you as a +child. But, as Waring justly observes, the society to which you belong is +inexorable in its rules for a woman." + +She flung out her arms impatiently, and then clasped them above her head. +It seemed as if a thousand fine clammy webs were being spun about her. + +"If you had any especial talent, as Waring says--if you were artistic or +musical, or concerned in some asylum-work--you could take your own path, +independent of society. But--" looking down at her anxiously. + +"I understand. I don't know what I was made for." + +It was the first time in her life that she had been driven in to consider +herself. She stood grave and intent, saying nothing for some time. Every +other woman had some definite aim. The whole world was marching by, keeping +step to a neat, orderly little tune. They made calls, they gave alms, they +dressed, all of the same fashion. + +"Why not be like other people?" her father was saying, making a burden to +her thought. + +"I don't know why," drearily. + +"What would you have, Jenny?" taking her hand in his. + +"Father, I never loved but one or two people in the world. You and Bruno +and--not many others. I can do nothing outside of them." + +"Nonsense! You cannot be a law to yourself, child. God knows I want to see +you happy!" his voice breaking. "But," straightening his eye-glasses, +"Waring says, very justly, you are out of the groove which all other girls +are in." He stopped inquiringly, but she did not answer. She was a +strongly-built woman in mind and body, and just then she felt her strength. +The blood rushed in a swift current through her veins. Why should she be +hampered with these thousand meaningless, sham duties? She was fit for but +one purpose--to serve two men whom she loved. Her father was ill, and he +pushed her from him into Society; and Bruce Neckart was alone, and with a +worse fate than death creeping on him, and he-- + +"Why does not Mr. Neckart come to us?" she asked abruptly. "It is months +since I have seen him." + +"His health is failing. There is some trouble of the brain threatened. I +hear that he is going to give up the paper, and is settling up his business +to go to Europe." Her question startled him: he watched her with a new keen +suspicion. + +"If this must come on him, why should he not come here to bear it? I can +nurse you both. Surely, that is as good work as returning calls or learning +to dress in Parisian style," with a short laugh. + +The captain's face gathered intelligence as he listened. He knew her secret +now. For a moment he felt a wrench of pity for her. But love, with the +captain, had been a sentimental fever ending in a cold ague: he had +experienced light heats and chills of it many a time since. This wild fancy +of the girl's would speedily burn itself out if judiciously damped. He +would at once take the matter in hand. + +"Neckart," he said deliberately, eying her to gauge the effect of his +words, "is a man of sense and knowledge of the world. He knows his +condition, and in the little time left to him he attends to his business +and important political affairs, instead of nursing a romantic friendship +which cannot serve him, and would only compromise you." + +"Compromise me? I don't understand you, father." + +"A woman could not render such service as you offer except to her betrothed +lover or husband." + +"Why, he would understand." + +"But Society, child--" + +"Oh, Society!" with a laugh. "But you do not remember!" clasping her hands +on his shoulder. "If this thing comes upon him--he has looked forward to it +all his life--he has nobody. He is quite alone." + +"At least," impatiently, "you will not be involved. I did not understand +before why Bruce had deserted us lately. I see now that he has acted very +properly. It was not his fault nor yours--this flirtation--preference--or +whatever you may choose to call it. But Bruce knows the world, and knows +just how long-lived such fancies are, and he intends that it shall be no +hinderance to your marriage--making an excellent match." + +"I marry? Make an excellent match?" + +"Yes. Certainly. What else should you do? Don't look in that way, my +darling. It frightens me. I'm not strong. It is not death that is coming to +you, but a good husband. You need not turn so white." + +"And Mr. Neckart planned this for _me?_" + +"N-no. I can't say 'planned,' to be accurate. But he agreed in our plan. +Why, Bruce has common sense. He knows it is the way of the world that a +woman should marry, and he will be much happier to know that you are the +wife of a good man--good and good-looking too. Much more presentable than +Bruce, poor fellow!" + +The captain watched her closely as he gave this home-thrust. How a woman +could turn from that magnificent, devout reformer to any lean, irascible +politician! Her foot was on the edge of the little skiff. She pushed it +into the water. While he sat in the boat there that night, with the +moonlight white about them, while he told her that he loved her, he had +been planning this good match for her! There was no such thing as love, +then, in the world? Or truth? But there was Society and common sense and +the inexorable rules of propriety. Bruce Neckart represented to her +Strength itself, and he submitted to these rules cheerfully. He was happy +to think of her as the wife of a good, presentable man! + +When she had thought of him as going alone with his terrible burden away +from her into the wilderness, true to her until the last breath of reason +was gone, there had been a thrill of delight in the intolerable pain. But +planning, like finical little Waring, that she should fall snugly into a +fashionable set, Parisian gowns, a suitable marriage! + +Jane had not the womanish faculty of thinning every fact or thought that +came to her into tears or talk. Neckart had gone out of her life. She +accepted the fact at once, without argument. What the loss imported to her +would assuredly be known only to her own narrow, one-sided mind, and the +God who had given it to her. + +"Shall we go to the house, father? Can't you laugh again, and look like +yourself? Why, I will give myself up, body and soul, to Society or +Philanthropy--anything you choose--rather than see you so shaken." She hung +on his arm as they went up the path, talking incessantly, and laughing +more, as even the captain felt, than the jokes would warrant. The moment +was favorable for introducing the subject he had at heart. + +"The last train brought out a dozen men to consult Mr. Van Ness," he +began--"deputations from church and charitable organizations. 'Pon my soul, +I don't know what Christianity in this country would do without that man!" + +"It would wear a very different face," absently. + +"I went with Rhodes to a great revival-meeting in town one night lately, +and Van Ness, of course, was called up on the platform. Rhodes thought he +looked like one of the apostles in modern dress; and all the ladies near me +said that his face beamed with heavenly light. It would have made anybody +devout to look at him. Are you listening?" glancing at her abstracted face. +"You certainly think him remarkably handsome? As to his nose, now?" + +"I don't suppose anybody could find fault with his nose," smiling. + +"Nor with his manner?" + +"Nor with his manner." + +"And yet you are not friends, eh?" holding his breath for her answer. + +"No," carelessly. "Mr. Van Ness and I could not be friends." + +"Why? why?" + +"How could I tell?" with a shrug, and looking at Bruno, who was fighting a +cat just then without cause. + +The captain looked and sighed. It was of no use, he thought, to try to +account for the prejudices or likings of any of the lower animals. + +Mr. Waring met them at the moment in an anxious flutter: "Mrs. Wilde is +here. She is coming down the path." + +Mrs. Wilde was a small, plump old lady with a sober, tranquil face framed +in soft puffs of white hair; her dress never rustled or brought itself into +any notice; her language never fell uneasily out of its quiet gait; when +she spoke to you, you felt that something genuine and happy dominated you +for the moment. + +"I followed Mr. Waring here," holding out her hand. "One makes acquaintance +so much more quickly out of doors. I must begin ours by asking for your +arm, Miss Swendon. I am fat and scant o' breath, and apt to forget it." + +Jane drew the puffy hand eagerly through her arm. She would have liked to +say outright how welcome the motherly presence and the honest voice were to +her just then. + +Mrs. Wilde dismissed the captain and Mr. Waring, and the two women sat down +in the arbor, and at once were at ease and at home with each other. Bruno +came up, eyed and smelled the new-comer, and snuggled down on her skirts to +go to sleep. + +"He vouches for me," she said nodding. "You must take me at his valuation." + +"He makes no mistakes." + +"Nor do you, I suspect. That reminds me, Miss Swendon. I brought a friend +with me, and now that I have seen you I mean to bespeak your good-will for +her. She needs just such healthy influence as yours would be." + +"Is she ill?" + +"Only in mind. One of those morbid women who must make a drama out of their +lives, and prefer to make it a tragedy. A Madame Trebizoff, an +English-woman who married a Russian prince. She is a widow now, with large +means--came to New York a few months ago, and has had much court paid to +her. But her nature makes her always a very lonely woman." She spoke +hastily as the trailing of heavy skirts approached on the grass. "Here she +is, poor thing! Be good to her," she whispered before presenting her in +form. Madame Trebizoff was draped in black, with a good deal of lace about +her head and an artificial yellow rose at her throat. Jane went up to her +with outstretched hand, but when the sallow face turned full on her she +stopped short, looked at it a moment, and then bowed without a word. + +"It is the materialized spirit!" But she did not speak, for in a moment she +remembered that she had once taken the bread from the wretched woman's +mouth. She would not do it again. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + + +Mr. Van Ness came beaming down through the lilacs to the arbor, and was +received with much reverence by Mrs. Wilde. She was a devout woman, and +Pliny Van Ness's name was in all the churches. They all sauntered back to +luncheon presently, Mrs. Wilde and Jane going before, while Mr. Van Ness +and the Russian princess walked more slowly through the woods, the +foreigner talking with animation and many gestures of American trees, while +the reformer listened benignly, ineffable calm in his smiling eyes. + +"You followed me here purposely, Charlotte?" he said gently as she dilated +eloquently on our autumnal foliage. + +"No. I did not know that you were in New York. But I meant to call upon you +soon. I have had no money from you since last August." + +"Somebody, apparently, has filled my place as your banker," his placid eye +sweeping over the costly dress and be-diamonded fingers. + +"What is that to you?" with a sudden shrill passion. "Once you would have +cared, Pliny. But that was years ago." + +"Yes. Many years ago," buttoning his glove carefully. "A Russian princess, +eh?" after a short pause. "You are playing higher than ordinary, Charlotte. +You'll find it dangerous. I should advise you to keep to begging letters or +the role of medium or literary tramp." + +"One class is as ready to be humbugged as the other. Who knows that better +than you?" + +"In the religious and charitable work to which I have given up my life," +deliberately measuring his words, "there are few impostors to be met. We +usually detect fraud, with God's help, and do not suffer from it, +therefore." + +She stopped short, looking at him with blank amazement. Then walked on with +a shrug: "Absolutely! He expects me to believe in him! He believes in +himself! Can imposture go further than that?" + +Mrs. Wilde, in the distance, caught sight of the two figures as they passed +through a belt of sunlight, and smiled contentedly. + +"I am so glad to bring poor madame under direct religious influence! Mr. +Van Ness is speaking to her with great earnestness, I perceive." + +The Princess Trebizoff scanned the great reformer as they walked, +appraising him, from the measured solemn step to his calm humility of eye. +She would have relished a passionate scene with him. After terrapin and +champagne, there was nothing she relished so much as emotion and tears. But +they had played up to each other so often! The tragedy in their relation +had grown terribly stale! You could not, she felt, make Hamlet's inky cloak +out of dyed cotton. But he would serve as audience. + +"I'm growing very tired of good society," talking rapidly as usual. "Now, +you always enjoyed a dead level, Pliny." + +"Yes. There's no Bohemian blood in my veins. I was designed for +respectability." + +"So? I mean Ted shall be respectable," with sudden earnestness. "He is in a +Presbyterian college. I should be glad if he'd go into the ministry. Yes, I +should. Provided he had a call from God. I'll have no sham professions +from Ted," her black eyes sparkling. "You did not ask for the boy. In your +weighty affairs doubtless you forgot there was such a human being." + +"No, indeed. In what institution have you placed Thaddeus?" + +"No matter. He's out of your influence, thank God! He never heard your +name. But as for me, I think I'll drop this princess business soon," +meditatively. "I began down town," with a fresh burst of vivacity. "On the +boarding-house keepers. Last December." + +"You are Madame Varens! Is it possible?" turning to look at her. "The +papers were filled with your exploits last winter." + +"Precisely!" She had a joyous girlish laugh, infectious enough to draw a +smile from Van Ness. + +"You are really very clever, Charlotte," admiringly. + +"I made a tour in the West just before that," excitedly, patting her hands +together. "Agent for Orphans' Homes in the Gulf States. I wrote a letter of +introduction from one or two bishops to the clergymen in their dioceses: +that started me, and the clergy and press passed me through. What a mill of +tea-drinkings and church-gossip I went through! But it was better fun than +this." + +Looking up, she happened to catch the cold, furtive glance with which he +had listened, and kept her eye fixed on him curiously. + +"Do you hate me so much as _that?_" she said with a long breath. "Well," +frankly, "it must be intolerable to carry such a millstone about your neck +as I am to you. You know I could pull you down any minute I chose," tossing +her head and laughing maliciously. "No matter how high you had climbed. I +often wonder, Pliny, why you do not rid yourself of me. It could be easily +done." + +The usually suave tone was harsh and hoarse as he began to speak. He +coughed, and carefully modulated his voice before he said politely, "Yes. +But it would involve exposure unless carefully managed. That is certain +damnation. There is a chance of safety for the present in trusting to you. +You were always good-natured, Charlotte. And," turning his watery eye full +on her, "you loved me once." + +"Possibly," coolly. "But last year's loves are as tedious reading as last +year's newspapers. Better trust my good-nature. You show your shrewdness in +that. I don't interfere with people. The world uses me very well. It's a +hogshead that gives the best of wine--if you know how to tap it." + +"You've tapped it with a will. You go through life perpetually drunk," he +thought as she ran lightly before him up the steps. He habitually made such +complacent moral reflections upon his companions to himself, and took +spiritual comfort in them. + +The hall was wide and sunny, made homelike by low seats and growing plants: +it was occupied by half a dozen committee-men, who were waiting impatiently +to see Mr. Van Ness. The princess seated herself, attentive, her head on +one side like some bright-eyed tropical bird. + +Van Ness, without even a glance toward her, took up his business of +Christian financier. "Do not go, I beg," as the captain opened the inner +door for Rhodes and the ladies to retire. "Our affairs are conducted in the +eyes of the public. Sound integrity has no secrets to keep. That is our +pride.--Ah, gentlemen?" + +The captain was glad to stay. Surely, Jane would be impressed with the vast +influence of this good man. Van Ness did not look at her once. But he saw +nobody but her, and spoke directly to her ear. + +Asylums, workingmen's homes, hospitals, in all of which he was a director, +were brought up and dismissed with a few hopeful, earnest words. The vast +system of organized charities through which the kindly wealthy class touch +the poor beneath them was opened. Mrs. Wilde, a manager in many of them, +joined in the discussion. + +"What a useless creature I am!" thought Jane. "But the money," doggedly, +"is mine, and I choose to give it to father if the whole world go hungry." +She turned, however, from one representative of these asylums to the other +with a baited look. Was it this one or that whom she had robbed? + +"Now, as to Temperance City--_our_ city?" demanded a puffy little man +importantly. "You are the fountain-head of information there. We look to +you, Mr. Van Ness." + +"You shall have the annual report next week.--Temperance City," turning to +Rhodes, his balmy gaze aimed straight over her head, "is a scheme to +protect people of small means in the churches, especially women, from +wrecking their little all in unwise investments. It is a town on the line +of the Pacific Railroad. Lots are only sold to colonists who are +tee-totallers and members of some church. The stock is owned largely by the +same class." + +"Oh, almost altogether!" cried the little man enthusiastically. "Mr. Van +Ness's name, as you will understand, gives it authority among all religious +people. We distribute prospectuses at camp-meetings and at all sectarian +seaside resorts. Shares go off this summer like hot cakes. There's nothing +like religion, sir, to back up business enterprise. There's Stokes, for +instance. His shoes are sold from New Jersey to Oregon on the strength of +the hymns he has written." + +"Yes," said the judge solemnly. "We used to keep religion too much in the +chimney-corner--spoke of it with bated breath. But it's in trade now, sir. +We hear every day of our Christian shoe-makers and railway kings and +statesmen. The world moves!" + +"Moves? Oh there's no lever like religion!" gasped the little man. "No +advertisement to equal it. And a good man ought to succeed! Are the +swindlers to take all the fat of the land? Does not the good Book say, 'To +the laborers belong the spoils'?" + +"But this is so charming to me!" cried the princess. "We foreigners have so +few opportunities of looking into the workings of your politics and trade!" + +Van Ness bowed respectfully. + +"And the State Home for destitute children?" asked a raw-boned +Scotch-Irishman. "We're interested in that here in New York. We've +subscribed largely, as you're aware, Mr. Van Ness. May I ask when you wull +begin the buildin'?" + +"In the spring, I trust. If enough funds are collected." + +"And hoo air the funds invested in the mean while?" + +"Oh, in corner-lots in Temperance City." + +The committee-men had hurried away to catch the next train: lunch was over, +and Mr. Van Ness stood apart on the lawn under the drooping branches of a +willow, when the princess tripped lightly out to him. + +"You have an object in coming here? You had an object in bringing those men +to-day and opening out your affairs. What is it?" + +He regarded her composedly for a moment without answering: "You always +erred, Charlotte, in ascribing your own skill in intrigue to me. It was a +flattering mistake. What I am to others I am to myself." + +She laughed, a merry, hearty laugh: "Yes, Pliny, because you are not +satisfied with cheating the world and the God that made you into the belief +that you are a Christian, but you parade in your godliness before yourself. +There is not a spot within you sound enough for your real soul to lodge in. +It is all like that," setting her foot viciously on a fallen apple. "Rotten +to the core!" + +A shadow of disgust passed over his handsome face. Van Ness had a +fastidious taste. Her melodramatic poses had been familiar to him for +years: they always had annoyed and bored him. + +"What is it that brings you here? A woman?" + +He hesitated a moment: "Yes." + +"This yellow-haired girl? You mean to marry her?" + +"I may marry her," cautiously. + +Their eyes met. "I did not think you would push me so far," she said +thoughtfully. + +"It is to your interest not to interfere. You are mad, Charlotte. But you +never lose sight of the dirty dollar in your madness." + +"That is for Ted's sake," quietly. "I dislike that girl. She's so damnably +clean! She's of the sort that would walk straight on and trample me under +foot like a slug if she knew what I was. I owe her an old grudge, too. But +that's nothing," laughing good-humoredly. "It was the most ridiculous +scene! But it lost me a year's income. She nearly recognized me to-day. On +the whole, I'll not interfere. Marry her. She deserves just such a +punishment. By the way, there is my card. You can send the back payments +that are due, to-morrow." + +Van Ness received the card and command with a smile and bow, meant for the +bystanders: "Of course, Charlotte, you understand that these payments must +soon stop. I shall rid myself of any legal claims you have upon me before +marrying another woman." + +"Oh, I've no doubt you'll walk strictly according to law! You will not run +the risk of a lawsuit, much less prosecution, even for Miss Swendon. You +will have no trouble in gaining your freedom from me," shrilly. + +"None whatever," stripping the leaves from a willow wand. She left him +without a word, going to the house. + +Mrs. Wilde had just summoned her carriage. "Where is the princess?" looking +lazily around. + +"Is Madame Trebizoff a guest in your house?" asked Jane suddenly. + +"Yes." + +"I will call her. I have something to say to her." + +She went to meet her with the grave motherly firmness with which she would +have gone to give a scolding to black Buff or a lazy chambermaid. The +princess, crossing the grass, slender, dark, sparkling, had no doubt of her +own smouldering passionate hate against her. It was the proper thing for +Hagar to hate Sarah. Life was thin and insipid without great remorses, +revenges, loves. The poor little creature was always aiming at them, and +falling short. She was wondering now why Jane wore no jewelry. "Not an +earring! Not a hoop on her finger! If I had her money!" glancing down at +the blaze of rubies on her breast. + +They met under a clump of lilacs. + +"Stop one moment," said Jane, looking down at her not unkindly. "You must +not let this go too far, you know." + +"What do you mean?" The princess fixed her eye upon her, with a somewhat +snaky light in it. Indeed, when she assumed that attitude toward Van Ness +or any other man she could frighten and hold him at bay as if she had been +a cobra about to strike. But the lithe dark body, the vivid color, the +beady eye only reminded Jane oddly of a darting little lizard, and tempted +her to laugh. + +"No. You really must keep within bounds. Because I have my eye upon you. I +can't let you cheat that good soul, who brought you here, to her damage." + +The princess gasped and whitened as though a cold calm hand was laid on her +miserable sham of a body. + +"Do you know who I am?" stiffening herself into her idea of regal bearing. + +"Not exactly. It does not matter in the least, either. I took your means of +earning a living from you once, you told me, and I don't wish to do it +again. I will not interfere as long as you hurt nobody." + +The princess stared at her and burst into an hysteric laugh: "I believe, in +my soul, you mean just what you say! You are the shrewdest or stupidest +woman I ever saw! Do you sympathize with me? Do you feel for me?" +tragically, "or are you trying to worm my secret from me?" + +"Neither one nor the other," coolly. "I know your secret. You are no spirit +and no princess. I shall pity you perhaps when you go to some honest work. +Why," with sudden interest, "I can find steady work for you at once. A +staymaker in the village told me the other day--" + +"_I_ make stays!" + +They both laughed. Jane's chief thought probably was how bony and sickly +this poor woman was: her own solid white limbs seemed selfish to her for +the instant. She took the twitching, ringed fingers in her hand. + +"Play out your own play," she said good-humoredly. "You will not hurt +anybody very seriously, I fancy." + +They walked in silence to the house. + +The princess bent forward in the carriage-window as they drove away to look +back at her. "I wish my son knew such women as that!" she cried. + +"Son?" said the startled Mrs. Wilde. "You have not spoken before to me of +your son, madame." + +"I have always kept him under tutors--at Leipsic." + +She leaned back as they drove through the sunshine, her filmy handkerchief +to her painted eyes, seeing nothing but an ugly, honest-faced boy hard at +work in a bare Presbyterian chapel. He would never know nor guess the life +of shame which his mother led! Her tears were real now. + +She even had wild, visionary thoughts of a confession, of staymaking, of so +many dollars a week regularly. But she remembered the time when some fussy, +good women had put her in charge of a fashionable Kindergarten. There was a +fat salary! The house was luxurious: the teachers did the work. But one +night she had broken the finical apparatus to pieces, left a heap of +bonbons for the children, scrawled a verse of good-bye with chalk on the +blackboard, and taken to the road again without a penny. + +REBECCA HARDING DAVIS. + +[TO BE CONTINUED.] + + + + +ALFRED DE MUSSET. + + +It is twenty years since the death of Alfred de Musset, a poet whose +popularity and influence, both in his own country and out of it, can be +compared only to Byron's. Not that the Frenchman is known in England as the +Englishman is known in France, but the latter country may be called the +open side of the Channel, and in establishing a comparison between the +relative fame and familiarity of foreign names and ideas there and on the +isolated side, it is proportion rather than quantity which must be kept in +view. While Byron is out of fashion in his own country, the rage for +Musset, which for a long time made him appear not so much the favorite +modern poet of France as the only one, has subsided into a steady +admiration and affection, a permanent preference. New editions of his +works, both cheaper and more costly, are being constantly issued, portraits +of him are multiplied, his pieces are regularly performed at the Theatre +Francais, his verses are on every one's lips, his tomb is heaped with +flowers on All Souls' Day. Until after his death it would have been easy to +count those who knew even his name in this country and England: as usual in +such matters, we preceded the English in our acquaintance with him. The +freedom with which Owen Meredith and Mr. Swinburne helped themselves from +his poems proves how unfamiliar the general public was with him ten years +ago, but his distinction is now so well recognized in that island, so +remote from external impressions, that some knowledge of his life and +writings formed part of the French course last year in the higher local +examinations of Cambridge University. + +Alfred de Musset belongs to the class of poets whose inner history excites +most curiosity, because his readers feel that there lies the spring of his +power, the secret of his charm, as well as the key to the riddles and +inconsistencies which his writings present: they are so imbued with the +essence of a common humanity that the heart that beats, the tears which +start, the blood which courses through them, keep time with our own. The +desire to penetrate still further into the intimacy to which they admit us +is quite distinct from the vulgar inquisitiveness which pursues celebrity, +or merely notoriety, into privacy. His biography has lately been published +by one who recognizes the true nature of this curiosity: Paul de Musset has +reserved the right of telling his brother's story, regarding it, he says, +"not only as a duty I owe to the man I loved best, and whose most intimate +and confidential friend I was, but as a necessary complement to the perfect +understanding of his works, for his work was himself." + +The way in which this task has been performed is not entirely satisfactory, +and many passionate admirers of the poet, the order of readers to whom it +is dedicated, will feel disappointment and a regretful sense of its failing +to fulfil what it undertook, increased by the conviction that, having been +undertaken by the hand best fitted for it by natural propriety, it cannot +be done again. The book bears the relation to what one desired and expected +that a bare diary does to the journal, or memoranda to the lecture. It is a +collection of notes on the life of Alfred de Musset, rather than a full +memoir. This inadequacy arises principally from the biographer himself. +Paul de Musset, the poet's elder and only brother, is a man of taste and +cultivation, a judge of art, literature, music and the drama, a person of +charming manners and conversation, dignified, kindly, courteous, easy: he +was until middle age a busy, working man, whose leisure moments were +occupied with writings that have found little favor, except the _Femmes de +la Regence_ and the pretty child's story of _M. le Vent et Mme. la Pluie_, +which latter has been translated. He was the devoted, unselfish friend and +mentor of Alfred, to whose juniority and genius he extended an indulgence +of which he needed no share for himself: in fact, he was the elder brother +of the Prodigal in everything but want of generosity. A more amiable +portrait cannot be imagined than the one to be drawn of him from the +history of his intercourse with his brother and from Alfred's own letters +and verses to him. This, however, was not the person to give us such an +account and analysis of the life and character of Alfred de Musset as the +subject called for: he has neither the necessary impartiality nor ability. +He is now seventy years old, and although, like his brother, he has the +gift of appearing a decade less than his age, he is forced to remember that +the time must come when he will no longer be here to defend his brother's +memory, which has suffered more than one cruel attack. Having once had to +silence calumny under cover of fiction, he naturally wished to put his name +beyond the reach of being further traduced. Whatever the shortcomings of +the performance, it could not fail to be interesting. It is written in an +easy, well-bred style, like the author's way of talking--not without a +sense of humor, with touching pride in his brother's endowments, and +tenderness toward faults which he does not deny. In place of comprehensive +views and sound judgment of Alfred de Musset's genius and career, we have +the knowledge of absolute intimacy and sympathy, candor, a hoard of +reminiscences and details which could be gained from no other source, and, +more than all, that certainty as to events and motives which can exist only +where there has been a lifelong daily association without disguise or +distrust. + +The family of Musset is old and gentle, and was adorned in early centuries +by soldiers of mark and statesmen of good counsel--the sort of lineage +which should bequeath high and honorable ideas, an inheritance of which +neither Paul nor Alfred de Musset nor their immediate forbears were +unworthy. A disposition to letters and poetry appears among their ancestry +on both sides, beginning in the twelfth century with Colin de Musset, a +sort of troubadour, a friend of Thibaut, count of Champagne, while the +poet's paternal grandmother bore the name of Du Bellay, so illustrious in +the annals of French literature. Alfred de Musset's parents were remarkable +for goodness of heart and high principle: both possessed an ideality which +showed itself with them in elevation of moral sentiments, and which passed +into the imaginative qualities of their sons. From remoter relatives on +both sides came a legacy of wit, promptness and point in retort, gayety +and good spirits. Alfred de Musset was born on the 11th of December, 1810, +in the old quarter of Paris, on the left bank of the Seine. The stories of +his childhood--which are pretty, like all true stories about children--show +a sensitive, affectionate, vivacious, impetuous, perverse nature, +precocious observation and intelligence. He was one of those beautiful, +captivating children whom nobody can forbear to spoil, and who, with the +innocent cunning of their age, reckon on the effect of their own charms. He +was not four years old when he first fell in love, as such mere babies, +both girls and boys, occasionally do: these infantine passions exhibit most +of the phenomena of maturer ones, and show how intense and absorbing a +passion may be which belongs exclusively to the region of sentiment and +imagination. Alfred de Musset's first love was his cousin, a young girl +nearly grown up when he first saw her: he left his playthings to listen to +her account of a journey she had made from Belgium, then the seat of war, +and from that day, whenever she came to the house, insisted on her telling +him stories, which she did with the patience and invention of Scheherazade. +At last he asked her to marry him, and, as she did not refuse, considered +her his betrothed wife. After some time she returned to her home in Liege: +there were tears on both sides--on his genuine and excessive grief. "Do not +forget me," said Clelia.--"Forget you! Don't you know that your name is cut +upon my heart with a pen-knife?" He set himself to learn to read and write +with incredible application, that he might be able to correspond with his +beloved. His attachment did not abate with absence, so that when Clelia +really married, the whole family thought it necessary to keep it a secret +from her little lover, and he remained in ignorance of it for years, +although he betrayed extraordinary suspicion and misgiving on the subject. +He was a schoolboy of eight or nine before he learned the truth, and was at +first extremely agitated: he asked tremblingly if Clelia had been making +fun of him, and being assured that she had not, but that they had not +allowed her to wait for him, and that she loved him like an elder sister, +he grew calm and said, "I will be satisfied with that." The cousins seldom +met in after-life, but preserved a tender affection for each other, which +served to avert a lawsuit and rupture that threatened to grow out of a +business disagreement between the two branches of the family. In 1852, +Clelia came to Paris to be present at Alfred's reception by the French +Academy. He had great confidence in her taste and judgment, and the last +time they met he said to her, "If there should ever be a handsome edition +of my works, I will have a copy bound for you in white vellum with a gold +band, as an emblem of our friendship." + +His first literary passion was the _Arabian Nights_, which filled the +imagination of both brothers with magical lamps, wishing-carpets and secret +caverns for nearly a twelvemonth, during which they were incessantly trying +to carry out their fancies by constructing enchanted towers and palaces +with the furniture of their apartment. The Eastern stories were superseded +by tales of chivalry: Paul lit upon the _Four Sons of Aymon_ in his +grandfather's library, and a new world opened before him in which he +hastened to lose himself, taking his younger brother by the hand. The +children devoured _Jerusalem Delivered_, _Orlando Furioso_, _Amadis de +Gaule_, and all the poems, tales and traditions of knighthood on which they +could lay hands. Their games now were of nothing but tilts and jousts, +single combats, adventures and deeds of arms: the paladins were their +imaginary playfellows. A little comrade, who charged with an extraordinary +rush in the excitement of the tournament, generally represented Roland: +Alfred, being the youngest and smallest of the three, was allowed to bear +the enchanted lance, the first touch of which unseated the boldest rider +and bravest champion--a pretty device of the elder brother's, in which one +hardly knows whether to be most charmed with the poetic fancy or the +protecting affection which it displayed. The delightful infatuation lasted +for several years, undergoing some gradual modifications. Until he was +nine, Alfred had been chiefly taught at home by a tutor, but at that age he +was sent to school, where the first term dispelled his belief in the +marvellous. His brother was by this time at boarding-school, and they met +only on Sunday, when they renewed their knightly sports, but with +diminished ardor. One day Alfred asked Paul seriously what he thought of +magic, and Paul confessed his scepticism. The loss of this dear delusion +was a painful shock to Alfred, as it is to many children. Who cannot +remember the change which came over the world when he first learned that +Krisskinkle _alias_ Santa Claus did not fill the Christmas stocking--that +the fairies had not made the greener ring in the grass, where he had firmly +believed he might have seen them dancing in the moonlight if he could only +have sat up late enough? The Musset children fell back upon the mysterious +machinery of old romance--trap-doors, secret staircases, etc.--and began +tapping and sounding the walls for private passages and hidden doorways; +but in vain. It was at this stage of the fever that _Don Quixote_ was given +to them; and it is a singular illustration both of the genius of the book +and the intelligence of the little readers that it put their giants, dwarfs +and knights to flight. During the following summer they passed a few weeks +at the manor-house of Cogners with an uncle, the marquis de Musset, the +head of the family: to their great joy, the room assigned them had +underneath the great canopied bedstead a trap leading into a small chamber +built in the thickness of the floor between the two stories of the old +feudal building. Alfred could not sleep for excitement, and wakened his +brother at daybreak to help him explore: they found the secret chamber full +of dust and cobwebs, and returned to their own room with the sense that +their dreams had been realized a little too late. On looking about them +they saw that the tapestry on their walls represented scenes from _Don +Quixote:_ they burst out laughing, and the days of chivalry were over. + +Alfred de Musset was nine years old, as we have said, when he began to +attend the College Henri IV. (now Corneille), on entering which he took his +place in the sixth form, among boys for the most part of twelve or upward. +He was sent to school on the first day with a deep scalloped collar and his +long light curls falling upon his shoulders, and being greeted with jeers +and yells by his schoolmates, went home in tears, and the curls were cut +off forthwith. He was an ambitious rather than an assiduous scholar, and +kept his place on the bench of honor by his facility in learning more than +by his industry; but it was a source of keen mortification to him if he +fell behindhand. His talents soon attracted the attention of the masters +and the envy of the pupils, the latter of whom were irritated and +humiliated by seeing the little curly-pate, the youngest of them all, +always at the head of the class. The laziest and dullest formed a league +against him: every day, when school broke up, he was assaulted with a +brutality equal to that of an English public school, but which certainly +would not have been roused against him there by the same cause. He had to +run amuck through the courtyard to the gate, where a servant was waiting +for him, often reaching it with torn clothes and a bloody face. This +persecution was stopped by his old playfellow, Orlando Furioso, who was two +years his senior: he threw himself into the crowd one day and dealt his +redoubtable blows with so much energy that he scattered the bullies once +for all. Among their schoolmates was the promising duke of Orleans, who was +then duc de Chartres, his father, afterward King Louis Philippe, bearing at +that time the former title. He took a strong fancy to Alfred de Musset, +which he showed by writing him a profusion of notes during recitation, most +of them invitations to dinner at Neuilly, where he occasionally went with +other school-fellows of the young prince. For a time after leaving school +De Chartres--as he was called by his young friends--kept up a lively +correspondence with Alfred, and when their boyish intimacy naturally +expired the recollection of it remained fresh and lively in the prince's +mind, as was afterward proved. + +De Musset left college at the age of sixteen, having taken a prize in +philosophy for a Latin metaphysical essay. His disposition to inquire and +speculate had already manifested itself by uneasy questions in the classes +of logic and moral philosophy; and although few will agree with his brother +that his writings show unusual aptitude and profound knowledge in these +sciences, or that, as he says, "the thinker was always on a level with the +poet," nobody can deny the constant questioning of the Sphinx, the eager, +restless pursuit of truth, which pervades his pages. He pushed his search +through a long course of reading,--Descartes, Spinoza, Cabanis, Maine de +Biran--only to fall back upon an innate faith in God which never forsook +him, although it was strangely disconnected with his mode of life. + +I have lingered over the early years of Alfred de Musset because the +childhood of a poet is the mirror wherein the image of his future is seen, +and because there is something peculiarly touching in this season of +innocence and unconsciousness of self in the history of men whose after +lives have been torn to pieces by the storms of vicissitude and passion. So +far, he had not begun to rhyme--an unusual case, as boys who can make two +lines jingle, whether they be poets or not, generally scribble plentifully +before leaving school. At the age of fourteen he wrote some verses to his +mother on her birthday, but it is fair to suppose that they gave no hint of +talent, as they have not been preserved: it was only from his temperament +that his destiny might be guessed. The impressions of his infancy were +singularly vivid and deep, and acted directly upon his imagination: they +are reflected in his works in pictures and descriptions full of grace or +power. The ardent Bonapartism of his family, particularly of his mother, +whom he loved and revered, took form from his recollections in the +magnificent opening of the _Confession d'un Enfant du Siecle,_ which has +the double character of a prose poem and a kindling oration, while by the +volume and sonorous beauty of the phrase it reminds one of a grand musical +composition. When he was between seven and eight years old his family +passed the summer at an old country-place to which belonged a farm, and he +and his brother found inexhaustible amusement among the tenants and their +occupations. He never saw it again, but it is reproduced with perfect +fidelity in the tale of _Margot_. The chivalric mania left, as Paul de +Musset observes, a love of the romantic and fantastic, a tendency to look +upon life as a novel, an enjoyment of what was unexpected and unlikely, a +disposition to trust to chance and the course of events. The motto of the +Mussets was a condensed expression of the gallant love-making, Launcelot +side of knightly existence--_Courtoisie, Bonne Aventure aux Preux_ +("Courtesy, Good Luck to the Paladin;" or, to translate the latter clause +more freely, yet more faithfully to the spirit of the original, "None but +the Brave Deserve the Fair"). It came from two estates--_Courtoisie_, which +passed out of the family in the last century, and _Bonne Aventure_, a +property on the Loire, which was not part of Alfred's patrimony. The +fairies who endowed him at his christening with so many gifts and graces +must have meant to complete his outfit when they presented him with such a +device, which might have been invented for him at nineteen. On leaving +college he continued his education by studying languages, drawing, and +music to please himself, and attempting several professions to satisfy the +reasonable expectations of his father. He found law dry, medicine +disgusting, and, discouraged by these failures, he fell into low spirits, +to which he was always prone even at the height of his youthful +joyousness--declared to his brother that he was and ever should be good for +nothing, that he never should be able to practise a profession, and never +could resign himself to being _any particular kind of man._ His talent for +drawing led him to work in a painter's studio and in the galleries of the +Louvre with some success, and for a time he was in high spirits at the +idea of having found his calling, and pursued it while attending lectures +and classes on other subjects. This uncertainty lasted a couple of years, +during which he began to venture a little into society, of which, like most +lively, versatile young people, he was extravagantly fond. His Muse was +still dormant, but his love for poetry was strongly developed; a volume of +Andre Chenier was always in his pocket, and he delighted to read it under +the trees in the avenues of the Bois on his daily walk out of Paris to the +suburb of Auteuil, where his family lived at that time. Under this +influence he wrote a poem, which he afterward destroyed, excepting a few +good descriptive lines which he introduced into one of later date. +Meanwhile, he had been presented to the once famous Cenacle, the nucleus of +the romantic school, then in the pride and flush of youth and rapidly +increasing popularity; its head-quarters were at the house of Victor Hugo +_facile princeps ordinis_ even among its chiefs. There he met Alfred de +Vigny, Merimee, Sainte-Beuve and others, whose talents differed essentially +in kind and degree, but who were temporarily drawn together by similarity +of literary principles and tastes. Their meetings were entirely taken up +with intellectual discussions, or the reading of a new production, or in +walks which have been commemorated by Merimee and Sainte-Beuve, when they +carried their romanticism to the towers of Notre Dame to see the sun set or +the moon rise over Paris. + +Stimulated by this companionship, Alfred de Musset began to compose. His +first attempt at publication was anonymous, a ballad called "A Dream," +which, through the good offices of a friend, was accepted by _Le +Provincial,_ a tri-weekly newspaper of Dijon: it did not pass unnoticed, +but excited a controversy in print between the two editors, to the extreme +delight of the young poet, who always fondly cherished the number of the +paper in which it appeared. At length, one morning he woke up Sainte-Beuve +with the laughing declaration that he too was a poet, and in support of +his assertion recited some of his verses to that keenly attentive and +appreciative ear. Sainte-Beuve at once announced that there was "a boy full +of genius among them," and as long as he lived, whatever Paul de Musset's +fraternal sensitiveness may find to complain of, he never retracted or +qualified that first judgment. The _Contes d'Italie et d'Espagne_ followed +fast, and were recited to an enthusiastic audience, who were the more +lenient to the exaggerations and affectations of which, as in most youthful +poetry, there were plenty, since these bore the stamp of their own mint. + +Alfred de Musset's first steps in life were made at the same time with his +first essays in poetry. He was so handsome, high-spirited and gay that +women did not wait to hear that he was a genius to smile upon him. His +brother, who is tall, calls him of medium height, five feet four inches +(about five feet nine, English measure), slender, well-made and of good +carriage: his eyes were blue and full of fire; his nose was aquiline, like +the portraits of Vandyke; his profile was slightly equine in type: the +chief beauty of his face was his forehead, round which clustered the +many-shaded masses of his fair hair, which never turned gray: the +countenance was mobile, animated and sensitive; the predominating +expression was pride. Paul relates without reserve how one married woman +encouraged his brother and trifled with him, using his devotion to screen a +real intrigue which she was carrying on, and that another, who was lying in +wait for him, undertook his consolation. One morning Alfred made his +appearance in spurs, with his hat very much on one side and a huge bunch of +hair on the other, by which signs his brother understood that his vanity +was satisfied. He was just eighteen. That a man of respectable life and +notions like Paul de Musset should take these adventures as a matter of +course makes it difficult for an American to find the point of view whence +to judge a society so abominably corrupt. Thus at the age of a college-boy +in this country he was started on the career which was destined to lead to +so much unhappiness, and in the end to his destruction. Dissipation of +every sort followed, debts, from which he was never free, and the habit of +drinking, which proved fatal at last. To the advice and warnings of his +brother he only replied that he wished to know everything by experience, +not by hearsay--that he felt within him two men, one an actor, the other a +spectator, and if the former did a foolish thing the latter profited by it. +On this pernicious reasoning he pursued for three years a dissolute mode of +life, which, thanks to the remarkable strength and elasticity of his +constitution, did not prevent his carrying on his studies and going with +great zest into society, where he became more and more welcome, besides +writing occasionally. He translated De Quincey's _Confessions of an English +Opium-Eater_, introducing some reveries of his own, but the work attracted +no attention. During this period his father, naturally anxious about his +son's unprofitable courses, one morning informed him that he had obtained a +clerkship for him in an office connected with the military commissariat. +Alfred did not venture to demur, but the confinement and routine of an +office were intolerable, and he resolved to conquer his liberty by every +effort of which he was capable. He offered his manuscripts for publication +to M. Canel, the devoted editor of the romantic party: they fell short by +five hundred lines of the number of pages requisite for a volume of the +usual octavo bulk. He obtained a holiday, which he spent with a favorite +uncle who lived in the provinces, and came back in three weeks with the +poem of "Mardoche." He persuaded his father to give a literary party, to +which his friends of the Cenacle were invited, and repeated his latest +compositions to them, including "Mardoche." Here we have another example of +manners startling to our notions: the keynote of these verses was rank +libertinism, yet in his mother's drawing-room and apparently in the +presence of his father, a dignified, reputable man, venerated by his +children, this young rake declaimed stanzas more licentious than any in +Byron's _Don Juan_. But it caused no scandal: the friends were rapturous, +and predicted the infallible success of the poems, in which they were +justified by the event. "Rarely," says Paul de Musset, "has so small a +quantity of paper made so much noise." There was an uproar among the +newspapers, some applauding with all their might, others denouncing the +exaggeration of the romantic tendency: the romanticists themselves were +disconcerted to find the "Ballade a la Lune," which they had taken as a +good joke, turned into a joke against themselves. At all events, the young +man was launched, and his vocation was thenceforth decided. In reading +these first productions of Alfred de Musset's without the prejudice or +partiality of faction, it cannot be denied that if not sufficient in +themselves to ensure his immortality, they contain lines of finished beauty +as perfect as the author ever produced--ample guarantee of what might be +expected from the development of his genius. + +He now began to be tired of sowing wild oats, and became less irregular in +his mode of life. A lively, pretty little comedy called _Une Nuit +Venitienne_, which he wrote at the request of the director of the Odeon, +for some inexplicable cause fell flat, which, besides turning him aside +from writing for the stage during a number of years, discouraged him +altogether for some time. Before he entirely recovered from the check he +lost his father, who died suddenly of cholera in 1832. The shock left him +sobered and calm, anxious to fulfil his duties toward his mother and young +sister, whose means, it was feared, would be greatly diminished by the loss +of M. de Musset's salary. Alfred resolved to publish another volume of +poetry, and, if this did not succeed to a degree to warrant his considering +literature a means of support, to get a commission in the army. He set +himself industriously to work, and inspiration soon rewarded the effort: in +six months his second volume appeared, comprising "Le Saule," "Voeux +Steriles," "La Coupe et les Levres," "A quoi revent les jeunes filles," +"Namouna," and several shorter pieces. Among those enumerated there are +splendid passages, second in beauty and force to but a few of his later +poems, the sublime "Nuits," "Souvenir," and the incomparable opening of +"Rolla." Again he convoked the friends who three years before had greeted +the _Contes d'Espagne_ with acclamation, but, to the unutterable surprise +and disappointment of both brothers, there was not a word of sympathy or +applause: Merimee alone expressed his approbation, and assured the young +poet that he had made immense progress. Perhaps the others took in bad part +their former disciple's recantation of romanticism, which he makes in the +dedication of "La Coupe et les Levres" after the following formula: + + For my part, I hate those snivellers in boats, + Those lovers of waterfalls, moonshine and lakes, + That breed without name, which with journals and notes, + Tears and verses, floods every step that it takes: + Nature no doubt but gives back what you lend her; + After all, it may be that they do comprehend her, + But them I do certainly not comprehend. + +The chill of this introduction was not carried off by the public reception +of the _Spectacle dans un Fauteuil_ (as the new collection was entitled), +which remained almost unnoticed for some weeks, until Sainte-Beuve in the +_Revue des Deux Mondes_ of January 15, 1833, published a review of this and +the earlier poems, indicating their beauty and originality, the promise of +the one and progress of the other, with his infallible discernment and +discrimination. A few critics followed his lead, others differed, and +discussions began again which could not but spread the young man's fame. +The _Revue des Deux Mondes_ was now open to him, and henceforth, with a few +exceptions, whatever he wrote appeared in that periodical. He made his +entry with the drama of _Andrea del Sarto_, which is rife with tense and +tragic situations and deeply-moving scenes. The affairs of the family +turned out much better than had been expected, but Alfred de Musset +continued to work with application and ardor. His fine critical faculty +kept his vagaries within bounds: he knew better than anybody "how much good +sense it requires to do without common sense"--a dictum of his own. Like +every true artist, he took his subjects wherever he found them: the +dripping raindrops and tolling of the convent-bell suggested one of +Chopin's most enchanting _Preludes;_ the accidental attitudes of women and +children in the street have given painters and sculptors their finest +groups; so a bunch of fresh roses which De Musset's mother put upon his +table one morning during his days of extravagant dissipation, saying, "All +this for fourpence," gave him a happy idea for unravelling the perplexity +of Valentin in _Les Deux Maitresses;_ and his unconscious exclamation, "Si +je vous le disais pourtant que je vous aime," which caused a passer-by in +the street to laugh at him, furnished the opening of the _Stances a Ninon_, +like Dante's + + Donne ch'avete intelletto d'amore. + +These fortunate dispositions were interrupted by a meeting which affected +his character and genius more than any other event in his life. It is +curious that Madame Sand and De Musset originally avoided making each +other's acquaintance. She fancied that she should not like him, and he, +although greatly struck by the genius of her first novel, _Indiana_, +disliked her overloaded style of writing, and struck out in pencil a +quantity of superfluous adjectives and other parts of speech in a copy +which unluckily fell into her hands. Their first encounter was followed by +a sudden, almost instantaneous, mutual passion--on his part the first and +strongest if not the only one, of his life. The first season of this +intimacy was like a long summer holiday. "It seemed," writes the +biographer, "as if a partnership in which existence was so gay, to which +each brought such contributions of talent, wit, grace, youth, and +good-humor, could never be dissolved. It seemed as if such happy people +should find nothing better to do than remain in a home which they had made +so attractive for themselves and their friends.... I never saw such a happy +company, nor one which cared so little about the rest of the world. +Conversation never flagged: they passed their time in talking, drawing, and +making music. A childish glee reigned supreme. They invented all sorts of +amusements, not because they were bored, but because they were overflowing +with spirits." But Paris became too narrow for them, and they fled--first +to Fontainebleau, then to Italy. Musset's mother was deeply opposed to the +latter project, foreseeing misfortune with the prescience of affection, and +he promised not to go without her consent, although his heart was set upon +it. The most incredible story in the biography is that Madame Sand actually +surprised Madame de Musset into an interview, and, by appeals, eloquence, +persuasion and vows, obtained her sorrowful acquiescence. + +The lamentable story of that Italian journey has been told too often and by +too many people to need repetition here. No doubt Paul de Musset has told +it as fairly as could be expected from his brother's side: probably the +circumstances occurred much as he sets them down. But he could not make due +allowance for the effect which Alfred's dissolute habits had produced upon +his character: he was but twenty-three, and had run the round of vice; he +had already depicted the moral result of such courses in his terrible +allegory of "La Coupe et les Levres:" the idea recurs throughout his works, +conspicuously in the _Confession d'un Enfant du Siecle_, which is Madame +Sand's best apology. But if his excesses had destroyed his ingenuousness, +she destroyed his faith in human nature, and on her will ever rest the +brand he set in the burning words of the "Nuit d'Octobre." + +He returned to Paris shattered in mind and body, and shut himself up in his +room for months, unable to endure contact with the outer world, or even +that of the loving home circle which environed him with anxious tenderness. +He could not read or write: a favorite piece of music from his young +sister's piano, a game of chess with his mother in the evening, were his +only recreations--his only excitement the letters which still came from +Venice, for which he looked with a sick longing, at which one cannot wonder +on reading them and remembering what a companionship it was that he had +lost. Urged by his brother and his friend M. Buloz, the director of the +_Revue des Deux Mondes_, to try the efficacy of work, he completed his play +of _On ne badine pas avec l'Amour_, already sketched, in which, of all his +dramatic writings, the cry of the heart is most thrilling. Aided by this +effort, he made a journey to Baden in September, five months after his +miserable return to Paris. The change of air and scene restored him, and +his votive offering for the success of his pilgrimage was the charming poem +called "Une Bonne Fortune." Although he had determined not to see Madame +Sand again, their connection was renewed, in spite of himself, when she +came back from Italy: it lasted for a short period, full of angry and +melancholy scenes, quarrels and reconciliations. Then he broke loose for +ever, and went back to the world and his work. + +This episode, of which I have briefly given the outline, was the principal +event of Alfred de Musset's life, the one which marked and colored it most +deeply, which brought his genius to perfection by a cruel and fiery +torture, and left a lasting imprint upon his writings. Although he never +produced anything finer than certain passages of "Rolla," which was +published in 1833, yet previous to that--or more accurately to 1835, when +he began to write again--he had composed no long poem of equal merit +throughout, none in which the flight was sustained from first to last. The +magnificent series of the "Nights" of May, December, August and October, +the "Letter to Lamartine," "Stanzas on the Death of Malibran," "Hope in +God," and a number of others of not less melody and vigor, but less exalted +and serious in tone; several plays, among them _Lorenzaccio_, which missed +only by a very little being a fine tragedy; the greater part of his prose +tales and criticisms, including _Le Fils de Titien_, the most charming of +his stories, and the _Confession d'un Enfant du Siecle_, which shows as +much genius as any of his poems,--belong to the period from 1835 to 1840, +his apogee. Of the last work, notwithstanding its unmistakable personal +revelations--which, if they do not tell the author's story, at least +reflect his state of mind--Paul de Musset says, what everybody who has read +his brother's writings carefully will feel to be true, that neither in the +hero nor any other single personage must we look for Alfred's entire +individuality. In the complexity of his character and emotions, and the +contradictions which they united, are to be found the eidolon of every +young man in his collection, even "the two heroes of _Les Caprices de +Marianne_, Octave and Coelio," says Paul, "although they are the antipodes +of one another." Neither is it as easy as it would seem on the surface to +trace the thread of any one incident of his life through his writings. +Although containing some irreconcilable passages, the four "Nights" +appeared to have been born of the same impulse and to exact the same +dedication: it is undeniably a shock to have their inconsistencies +explained by hearing that while the "Nuits de Mai," "d'Aout" and +"d'Octobre" refer to his passion for Madame Sand, the "Nuit de Decembre" +and "Lettre a Lamartine," which naturally belong to this series, were +dictated by another attachment and another disappointment. I will not stop +to moralize upon this: the story of De Musset's life is really only the +story of his loves. His brother says that he was always in love with +somebody: it was a necessity of his nature and his genius. Before he was +twenty-seven, six different love-affairs are enumerated, without taking +into account numerous affairs of gallantry; nor was the sixth the last. The +"Nuit d'Octobre" was written two years and a half after his return from +Italy, and its terrible malediction is the outbreak of the rankling memory +of his wrong and suffering. It was psychologically in order that while his +love (which does not die in an hour, like trust and respect) survived, it +should surround its object with lingering tenderness, but that as it slowly +expired indignation, scorn and the sense of injury should increase: this is +their final utterance, followed by pardon, a vow of forgetfulness and +farewell, but not a final farewell. That was spoken years afterward, in +1841, when, once again seeing by chance the forest of Fontainebleau, and +about the same time casually encountering Madame Sand, he poured forth his +"Souvenir," a poem of matchless sweetness and beauty, vibrating with +feeling and most musical in expression--an exquisite combination of lyric +and elegy. In this he calls her + + Ma seule amie a jamais la plus chere. + +Ten years after this, in one of the last strains of his unstrung harp, a +fragment called "Souvenir des Alpes," the sad chord is touched once more: +up to the end it answered faintly to certain notes. Long after their +rupture and separation he said that he would have given ten years of his +life to marry her had she been free; and it is deplorable that the most +fervent and lasting affection of which he was capable should have been +thrown back upon him in such sort. + +Of marriage there were several schemes at different times: they fell +through because he was averse to them himself, except one to which he much +inclined, the young lady being pretty, intelligent, charming and the +daughter of an old friend; but on the first advances it turned out that she +was engaged to another man. His biographer regrets this deeply, convinced +that such an alliance would have been his brother's salvation; but even if +he could have been more constant to his wife than to his mistresses, the +habit of intemperance was too confirmed to admit much hope of domestic +happiness. The same may be opined in regard to the vague hopes which were +destroyed by the death of the young duke of Orleans. When Louis Philippe +came to the throne, De Musset made no attempt to approach the royal family +on the pretext of the old school-friendship: it was the duke himself who +renewed it in 1836 on accidentally seeing some unpublished verses of the +poet's on the king's escape from an attempt at assassination. Louis +Philippe himself did not like the sonnet, considering the use of the poetic +_thou_ too familiar a form of address: he did not know who was the author; +and when Alfred was presented to him at a court-ball took him for a cousin +who was inspector of the royal forests at Joinville, and continued to greet +him, under this mistake, with a few gracious words two or three times a +year during the rest of his reign, while the poet's name was on the lips +and in the heart of every one else. The duke's favor and friendliness ended +only with his sad and sudden death. + +Paul de Musset tells us that the years 1837 and 1838 were the happiest in +his brother's life. The love-trouble which had wrung from him the "Nuit de +Decembre" was a disappointment, but not a deception, and the parting had +caused equal sorrow on both sides, but no bitterness. After no long +interval appeared "a very young and very pretty person whom he met +frequently in society, of an enthusiastic, passionate nature, independent +in her position, and who bought the poet's books." An acquaintance, a +friendship, a correspondence, a serious passion followed, and became a +relation which lasted two years "without quarrel, storm, coolness or +subject of umbrage or jealousy--two years of love without a cloud, of true +happiness." Why did it not last for ever? The biographer does not give the +answer. It is hinted in a letter to Alfred's friend, the duchesse de +Castries, dated September, 1840, in his _OEuvres posthumes_: "I have told +you how about a year ago an absurd passion, totally useless and somewhat +ridiculous, made me break with all my habits. I forsook all my +surroundings, my friends of both sexes, the current in which I was living, +and one of the prettiest women in Paris. I did not succeed in my foolish +dream, you must understand; and now I find myself cured, it is true, but +high and dry like a fish in a grain-field." This is probably the clue, and +the foolish dream was for a woman to whom his brother refers as having +repelled Alfred's homage with harshness, and having called forth from him +some short and extremely bitter verses beginning "Oui, femme," and another +called "Adieu!" in which there prevails a tone of quiet but deep feeling. +This is a sad story: he apparently united the volatility and vagrancy of +fancy, the inconstancy of light shallow natures, with the ardor and +intensity of passion and the capacity for suffering which belong to strong +and steadfast ones. There was a childlike quality in his disposition, which +showed itself in a sort of simplicity and spontaneousness in the midst of a +corrupt existence, and still more in the uncontrollable, absorbing violence +of his emotions: they swept over him, momentarily devastating his present +and blotting out the horizon, but unlike the tempests of childhood their +ravages did not disappear when the clouds dispersed and the torrents +subsided. The life of debauchery which had preceded his journey to Italy +was replaced, for some years, by a less excessive degree of dissipation, +during which he lived with a fast set, who, however, were men of talent and +accomplishments, the foremost among them being Prince Belgiojoso. The +influence of the two fortunate years, 1837-38, not only the happiest but +the most fertile of his short career, seems to have weakened these +associations and led him into calmer paths. He had formed several +friendships with women of a sort which both parties may regard with pride, +in particular with the Princess Belgiojoso, one of the most striking and +original figures of our monotonous time, and Madame Maxime Jaubert, a +clever, attractive young woman with a delightful house, whom he called his +_Marraine_ because she had given him a nickname. These women, and +others--but these two above the rest--were sincerely and loyally attached +to him with a disinterested regard which did not spare advice, nor even +rebuke, or relax under his loss of health and brilliancy or neglect of +their kindness, which nevertheless he felt and valued. His purest source of +pleasure was in the talent of others, which gave him a generous and +sympathetic enjoyment. The appearance of Pauline Garcia--now Madame +Viardot--and Rachel, who came out almost simultaneously at the age of +seventeen, added delight to the two happy years. He has left notices of the +first performances of these artistes, the former in opera, the latter on +the stage (for he was musical himself and a _connoisseur_) which are +excellent criticisms, and have even more interest than when they appeared, +now that the career of one has long been closed and that of the other long +completed. His relations with Rachel lasted for many years, interrupted by +the gusts and blasts which the contact of two such natures inevitably +begets. She constantly urged him to write a play for her, and in the year +after her _debut_ he wrote a fragment of a drama on the story of +Fredegonde, which she learned by heart and occasionally recited in private; +but there were endless delays and difficulties on both sides, and the rest +was not written. After various episodes and passages between them, De +Musset was dining with her one evening when she had become a great lady and +queen of the theatre, and her other guests were all rich men of fashion. +One of them admired an extremely beautiful and costly ring which she wore. +It was first passed round the table from hand to hand, and then she said +they might bid for it. One immediately offered five hundred francs, another +fifteen, and the ring went up at once to three thousand: "And you, my poet, +why do not you bid? What will you give?" "I will give you my heart," he +replied. "The ring is yours," cried Rachel, taking it off and throwing it +into his plate. After dinner De Musset tried to restore it to her, but she +refused to take it back: he urged and insisted, when she, suddenly falling +on her knee with that sovereign charm of seduction for which she was as +renowned as for her tragic power, entreated him to keep it as a pledge for +the piece he was to write for her. The poet took the ring, and went home +excited and wrought up to the resolve that nothing should interfere with +the completion of his task. But it was the old story again--whims and +postponements on Rachel's part, possibly temper and pique on his--until six +months afterward, at the end of an angry conversation, he silently replaced +the ring on her hand, and she did not resist. Four years later the compact +was renewed, and although by this time De Musset had to all intents and +purposes ceased to write, he struck off the first act of a play called +_Faustina_, the scene of which was laid in Venice in the fourteenth +century; but he put off finishing it, and finally let it drop altogether. + +In December, 1840, Alfred de Musset was thirty years old, and on his +birthday he had one of those reckonings with himself, which the most +deliberately careless and volatile men cannot escape. At twenty-one he had +held a similar settlement: he was then uncertain of his genius, +dissatisfied with his way of life and with the use he made of his time: the +result was his adoption of a more serious line of study and conduct, which +had led him, in spite of interruptions and aberrations, to the brilliant +display of his beautiful and splendid talents, the full exercise of his +wonderful powers. Now another review of his past and survey of his future +left him in a mood of discontent and depression. He felt that he could not +always go on being a boy. The year behind him had been almost sterile, and +marked by the loss of many of what he called his illusions. He had been +implored and urged to write by his friends and editors, had made and broken +promises without number to the latter, and had become involved in money +difficulties to a degree which kept him in constant anxiety and torment. +Yet he steadily rejected all his brother's affectionate advice and +importunities to shake off the deepening lethargy. He would not write +poetry because the Muse did not come of her free will, and he would never +do her violence. He had forsworn prose, because he said everybody wrote +that, and many so ill that he would not swell the number of magazine +story-writers, who, he foresaw, were to lower the standard of fiction and +style. In short, he always had an excuse for doing nothing, and although he +hated above all things to leave Paris, and seldom accepted the invitations +of his friends in the country, he now repeatedly rushed out of town to +escape the visits of editors, who had become no better than duns in his +eyes. When at home he shut himself in his room for days together in so +gloomy a frame of mind that even his brother did not venture to break in +upon him: he even made a furtive attempt at suicide one night when his +despondency reached its lowest depth; it was foiled by the accident of +Paul's having unloaded the pistols and locked up the powder and balls some +time before. He grew morbidly irritable, and resented Paul's remonstrances, +which, we may be sure, were made with all the tact and consideration of +natural delicacy and unselfish affection, generally by laughing at the poor +poet, which was the most effectual way of restoring his courage and +good-humor. One morning he emerged from his seclusion, and with vindictive +desperation threw before his brother a quantity of manuscripts, saying, +"You _would_ have prose: there it is for you." It was the introduction to a +sort of romance called _Le Poete dechu_, a wretched story of a young man of +many gifts who finds himself under the necessity of writing for the support +of his orphan sisters, and it described with harrowing eloquence the vain +efforts of his exhausted brain. The extracts in the biography are painfully +affecting and powerful, but the work was never finished or published. Such +a state of things could not go on indefinitely, and De Musset fell +dangerously ill of congestion of the lungs, brought on by reckless +imprudence when already far from well: the attack was accompanied by so +much fever and delirium that it was at first mistaken for brain fever. This +illness redoubled the tenderness and devotion of his family and friends: +his Marraine and Princess Belgiojoso took turns by his bedside, magnetizing +the unruly patient into quiescence; but the person who exercised the +greatest influence over him was a poor Sister of Charity, Soeur Marcelline, +who was engaged to assist in nursing him. The untiring care, +self-abnegation, angelic sweetness and serenity of this humble woman gained +the attachment of the whole family, and established an ascendency over +Alfred's impressionable imagination. She did not confine her office to her +patient's physical welfare, but strove earnestly to minister to him +spiritually. His long convalescence "was like a second birth. He did not +seem more than seventeen: he had the joyousness of a child, the fancies of +a page, like Cherubino in the _Marriage of Figaro_. All the difficulties +and subjects of despair which preceded his malady had vanished in a +rose-colored distance. He passed his days in reading interminable +books--_Clarissa Harlowe_, which he already knew, the _Memorial of St. +Helena_, and all the memoirs relating to the Empire. In the evening we all +gathered about his writing-table to draw and chat, while Soeur Marcelline +sat by knitting in bright worsteds. Auguste Barre, our neighbor, came to +work at an album of caricatures in the style of Toeppfer's, and we all +amused ourselves with the comic illustrations: Alfred and Barre had the +pencil, the rest of us composed a text as absurd as the drawings. Who will +give us back those delicious evenings of laughter, jest and chat, when +without stirring from home or depending on anything from without our whole +household was so happy?" Alas! they were not of long duration. By and by +Sister Marcelline went away, leaving her patient a pen on which she had +embroidered, "Remember your promises." He was afflicted by her departure, +and wrote some lines to her, who, as he said, did not know what poetry +meant, but he could never be induced to show them, although he repeated +them to Paul and their friend Alfred Tattet, who between them contrived to +note down the four following verses: + + Poor girl! thou art no longer fair. + By watching Death with patient care + Thou pale as he art grown: + By tending upon human pain + Thy hand is worn as coarse in grain + As horny Labor's own. + + But weariness and courage meek + Illuminate thy pallid cheek + Beside the dying bed: + To the poor suffering mortal's clutch + Thy hard hand hath a gentle touch, + With tears and warm blood fed. + + * * * * * + + Tread to the end thy lonely road, + All for thy task and toward thy God, + Thy footsteps day by day. + That evil must exist, we prate, + And wisely leave it to its fate, + And pass another way; + + But thy pure conscience owns it not, + Though ceaseless warfare is thy lot + Against disease and woe; + No ills for thee have power to sting, + Nor to thy lip a murmur bring, + Save those that others know. + +De Musset held in peculiar sacredness and reverence whatever was connected +with this good woman and his feeling for her: seventeen years after this +illness the embroidered pen and a piece of her knitting were buried with +him by almost his last request. + +Seventeen years! a large bit of any one's life--more than a third of Alfred +de Musset's own term--yet there is hardly anything to say about it. The +"Souvenir," which was written about six months after his recovery, is the +last poem in which all his strength, beauty and pathos find expression: he +never wrote again in this vein: it was the last echo of his youth. He +composed less and less frequently, and though what he wrote was redolent of +sentiment, wit, grace and elegance, and some of the short occasional verses +have a consummate charm of finish, the soul seems gone out of his poetry. +His brother mentions a number of compositions begun, but thrown aside; +there were projects of travel never carried out; he gradually gave up the +society of even his oldest friends: everything indicated a rapid decline of +the active faculties. Unhappily, that of suffering seemed only to +increase--no longer the sharp anguish of unspent force which had wrung from +him the passionate cries and plaintive murmurs of former years, but the +dull numbness of hopelessness. His existence was monotonous, and the few +occurrences which varied it were of a sad or unpleasant nature. His sister +married and left Paris, and his mother subsequently went to live with her +in the country, thus breaking up their family circle; Paul de Musset was +absent from France for considerable spaces of time, so that for the first +time Alfred de Musset was compelled to live alone. Friends scattered, some +died: the Orleans family, for whom he had a real affection, was driven from +France; he fancied that his genius was unappreciated--a notion which, +strangely enough, his brother shared--and although he was the last man to +rage or mope over misapprehension, the idea certainly added to his gloom. +Through the good graces of the duke of Orleans he had been appointed +librarian of the Home Office, a post of which he was instantly deprived on +the change of government; but a few years later he was unexpectedly given a +similar one in the Department of Public Education. In 1852 he was elected +to the French Academy, that honor so limited by the small number of +members, so ridiculed by unsuccessful aspirants, yet without which no +French author feels his career to be complete. His plays were being +performed with great favor, his poems and tales were becoming more and more +popular, his verses were set to music, his stories were illustrated: but +all this brought no cheer or consolation to the sick spirit. He lived more +and more alone: the Theatre Francais, a silent game of chess at his cafe, +the deadly absinthe, were his only sources of excitement. It is a comfort +to learn that the last ray of pleasure which penetrated his moral dungeon, +reviving for an instant the generous glow of enthusiasm, was the appearance +of Ristori: inspired by her, he began a poetical address which he never +finished, nor even wrote down, but a fragment of it was preserved orally by +one or two who heard it: + + For Pauline and Rachel I sang of hope, + And over Malibran a tear I shed; + But, thanks to thee, I see the mighty scope + Of strength and genius wed. + + Ah keep them long! The heart which breathes the prayer + When genius calls has ever made reply, + Bear smiling home to Italy the fair, + A flower from our sky. + + * * * * * + + They tell me that in spite of grief and wrong, + And pride bent earthward by a tyrant's heel, + A noble race, though crushed and conquered long, + Has not yet learned to kneel. + + Rome's godlike dwellers of a bygone age, + The marble, porphyry, alabaster forms, + Still live: at night, to speech upon the stage, + An ancient statue warms. + + + * * * * * + +What was the cause of De Musset's unhappiness and impotence? His brother +tries to account for them by an enumeration of the distresses and +annoyances mentioned above, and others of the same order; but when one +remembers how the poet's great sorrows, his father's death and the betrayal +of his affection by the first woman he really loved, had given him his +finest conceptions in verse and prose, it is impossible to accept so +insufficient an explanation. Nor can we allow that De Musset sank into a +condition of puerile impatience and senile querulousness. Judged by our +standard, all the Latin races lack manhood, as we may possibly do by +theirs: De Musset was only as much more sensitive than the rest of his +countrymen as those of the poetic temperament are usually found to be in +all countries. Nor had he seen his talent slowly expire: the spring did not +run dry by degrees: it suddenly sank into the ground. He had made a fearful +mistake at the outset, which he discovered too late if at all. Considering +what life is sure to bring to every one in the way of trial and sorrow, it +is not worth while to go in search of emotions and experience which are +certain to find us out; nor is it in the slums of life that its meaning is +to be sought. He had foretold his own end in the prophetic warning of his +Muse: + + Quand les dieux irrites m'oteront ton genie, + Si je tombe des cieux que me repondras-tu? + +His light was not lost in a storm-cloud nor eclipse, but in the awful +Radnorok, the Goetterdaemmerung, when sun and stars fall from a blank heaven. +His health and habits constantly grew worse--he had organic disease of the +heart--but his existence dragged on until May 1st, 1857, when an acute +attack carried him off after a few days' illness. He died in his brother's +arms, and his last words were, "Sleep! at last I shall sleep." He had +killed himself physically and intellectually as surely as the wages of sin +are death. + +But let not this be the last word on one so beloved as a poet and a man. +Mental qualities alone never endear their possessor to every being that +comes into contact with him, and Alfred de Musset was idolized by people +who could not even read. There was not a generous or amiable quality in +which he was wanting: he had an inextinguishable ardor for genius and +greatness in every form; he was tender-hearted to excess, could not endure +the sight of suffering, and delighted in giving pleasure; his sympathy was +ready and entire, his loyalty of the truest metal. "He never abused +anybody," says his brother, "nor sacrificed an absent person for the sake +of a good story." He loved animals and children, and they loved him in +return. + +He can never cease to be the poet of the many, for he has melody, +sentiment, passion, all that charms the popular ear and heart--a +personality which is the expression of human nature in a language which, as +he himself says, few speak, but all understand. He can never cease to be +the poet of the few, because, while his poems are a very concentration and +elixir of the most intense and profound feelings of which we are all +capable, they give words to the more exquisite and intimate emotions +peculiar to those of a keener and more refined susceptibility, of a more +exalted and aerial range. Sainte-Beuve says somewhere, though not in his +final verdict on De Musset, that his chief merit is having restored to +French literature the wit which had been driven out of it by the +sentimentalists. His wit is indeed delightful and irresistible, but it is +not his magic key to souls. In other countries every generation has its own +poet: younger ears are deaf to the music which so long charmed ours; but De +Musset will be the poet of each new generation for a certain season--the +sweetest of all, because, as has been well said, he is the poet of youth. +And if doubt breathes through some of his grandest strophes, Faith finds +her first and last profession in the lines-- + + Une immense esperance a traverse la terre; + Malgre nous vers le ciel il faut lever les yeux. + +SARAH B. WISTER. + + + + +THE BEE. + + + What time I paced, at pleasant morn, + A deep and dewy wood, + I heard a mellow hunting-horn + Make dim report of Dian's lustihood + Far down a heavenly hollow. + Mine ear, though fain, had pain to follow: + _Tara!_ it twang'd, _tara-tara!_ it blew, + Yet wavered oft, and flew + Most ficklewise about, or here, or there, + A music now from earth and now from air. + But on a sudden, lo! + I marked a blossom shiver to and fro + With dainty inward storm; and there within + A down-drawn trump of yellow jessamine + A bee + Thrust up its sad-gold body lustily, + All in a honey madness hotly bound + On blissful burglary. + A cunning sound + In that wing-music held me: down I lay + In amber shades of many a golden spray, + Where looping low with languid arms the Vine + In wreaths of ravishment did overtwine + Her kneeling Live-Oak, thousand-fold to plight + Herself unto her own true stalwart knight. + + As some dim blur of distant music nears + The long-desiring sense, and slowly clears + To forms of time and apprehensive tune, + So, as I lay, full soon + Interpretation throve: the bee's fanfare, + Through sequent films of discourse vague as air, + Passed to plain words, while, fanning faint perfume, + The bee o'erhung a rich unrifled bloom: + "O Earth, fair lordly Blossom, soft a-shine + Upon the star-pranked universal vine, + Hast naught for me? + To thee + Come I, a poet, hereward haply blown, + From out another worldflower lately flown. + Wilt ask, _What profit e'er a poet brings?_ + He beareth starry stuff about his wings + To pollen thee and sting thee fertile: nay, + If still thou narrow thy contracted way, + --Worldflower, if thou refuse me-- + --Worldflower, if thou abuse me, + And hoist thy stamen's spear-point high + To wound my wing and mar mine eye-- + Natheless I'll drive me to thy deepest sweet, + Yea, richlier shall that pain the pollen beat + From me to thee, for oft these pollens be + Fine dust from wars that poets wage for thee. + But, O beloved Earthbloom soft a-shine + Upon the universal jessamine, + Prithee abuse me not, + Prithee refuse me not; + Yield, yield the heartsome honey love to me + Hid in thy nectary!" + And as I sank into a suaver dream + The pleading bee-song's burthen sole did seem, + "Hast ne'er a honey-drop of love for me + In thy huge nectary?" + +SIDNEY LANIER. + + + + +"OUR JOOK." + + +"Koenigin," said I, as I poked the fire, "what do you think of the people in +the house?" + +On second thoughts it was not "Koenigin" that I said, for it was only that +night that she received the title. It is of no consequence what I did call +her, however, for from that time she was never anything but Koenigin to me. + +We began to "talk things over," as we had a way of doing; and very good fun +it was and quite harmless, provided the ventilator was not open. That had +happened once or twice, and got us into quite serious scrapes. People have +such an utterly irrational objection to your amusing yourself in the most +innocent way at what they consider their expense. + +Koenigin and I had come to the boarding-house that very day. We were by +ourselves, for our male protectors were off "a-hunting the wild deer and +following the roe"--or its Florida equivalent, whatever that may be--and we +did not fancy staying at a hotel under the circumstances. Now, we had taken +our observations, and were prepared to pronounce our opinions on our +fellow-boarders. One after another was canvassed and dismissed. Mr. A. had +eccentric table-manners; Miss B. wriggled and squirmed when she talked; +Mrs. C. was much too lavish of inappropriate epithets; Mr. X.'s +conversation, on the contrary, was quite bald and bare from the utter lack +of those parts of speech; Miss Y. had a nice face, and Mrs. Z. a pretty +hand. + +Just here Koenigin suddenly burst out laughing. "Really," she said, "we go +about the world criticising people as if we were King Solomon and the queen +of Sheba." + +"'Die Koenigin von Seba,'" said I. "That, I suppose, is you and our motto +should be, 'Wir sind das Volk und die Weisheit stirbt mit uns.'" + +I was not at all sure of the accuracy of my translation, but its +appropriateness was unquestionable. + +"What do you think of the Englishman, Koenigin?" I asked, giving the fire +another poke, not from shamefacedness, but because it really needed it, for +the evening was damp and chilly. + +"I like him," said Koenigin decidedly. + +Koenigin and I were always prepared with decided opinions, whether we knew +anything about the subject in hand or not. + +"He has a fine head," Koenigin went on, "quite a ducal contour, according to +our republican ideas of what a duke ought to be. I like the steady intense +light of his eyes under those straight dark brows, and that little frown +only increases the effect. Then his laugh is so frank and boyish. Yes, I +like him very much." + +"He has a nice gentlemanly voice," I suggested--"rather on the +'gobble-gobble' order, but that is the fault of his English birth." + +This is enough of that conversation, for, after all, neither of us is the +heroine of this tale. It is well that this should be distinctly understood +at the start. Somehow, "the Jook" (as we generally called him, in memory of +Jeames Yellowplush) and I became very intimate after that, but it was never +anything more than a sort of _camaraderie_. Koenigin knew all about it, and +she pronounced it the most remarkable instance of a purely intellectual +flirtation which she had ever seen; which was all quite correct, except for +the term "flirtation," of which it never had a spice. + +One of the Jook's most striking peculiarities, though by no means an +uncommon one among his countrymen, was a profound distrust of new +acquaintances and an utter incapacity of falling into the free and easy +ways which prevail more strongly perhaps in Florida than in any other part +of America. There really was some excuse for him, though, for, not to put +it too strongly, society is a little mixed in Florida, and it is hard for a +foreigner to discriminate closely enough to avoid being drawn into +unpleasant complications if he relaxes in the slightest degree his rules of +reserve. Besides which, the Jook was a man of the most morbid and ultra +refinement. "Refinement" was the word he preferred, but I should have +called it an absurd squeamishness. He could make no allowance for personal +or local peculiarities, and eccentricities in our neighbors which delighted +Koenigin and me and sent us into fits of laughter excited in his mind only +the most profound disgust. Therefore, partly in the fear of having his +sensibilities unpleasantly jarred upon, partly from the fear of making +objectionable acquaintances whom he might afterward be unable to shake +off, and partly from an inherent and ineradicable shyness, he went about +clad in a mantle of gloomy reserve, speaking to no one, looking at no +one--"grand, gloomy and peculiar." It was currently reported that previous +to our arrival he had never spoken to a creature in the boarding-house, +though he had been an inmate of it for six weeks. For the rest, he was +clever and intelligent, with frank, honest, boyish ways, which I liked, +even though they were sometimes rather exasperating. + +It was not quite pleasant, for instance, to hear him speak of Americans in +the frank and unconstrained manner which he adopted when talking to us. We +could hardly wonder at it when we looked at the promiscuous crowd which +formed his idea of American society. Refined and well-bred people there +certainly were, but these were precisely the ones who never forced +themselves upon his notice, leaving him to be struck and stunned by fast +and hoydenish young ladies, ungrammatical and ill-bred old ones, and men of +all shades of boorishness and swagger, such as make themselves conspicuous +in every crowd. Unluckily, both Koenigin and I have English blood in our +veins, and the Jook could not be convinced that we did not eagerly snatch +at the chance thus presented of claiming the title of British subjects. It +is quite hopeless to attempt to convince Englishmen that any American would +not be British if he could. Pride in American citizenship is an idea +utterly monstrous and inconceivable to them, and they can look on the +profession of it in no other light than that of a laudable attempt at +making the best of a bad case. Therefore, the Jook persisted in ignoring +our protestations of patriotic ardor, and in paying us the delicate +compliment of considering us English and expressing his views on America +with a beautiful frankness which kept us in a frame of mind verging on +delirium. + +What was to be done with such a man? Clearly, but one thing, and I sighed +for one of our American belles who should come and see and conquer this +impracticable Englishman. At present, things seemed quite hopeless. There +was no one within reach who would have the slightest chance of success in +such an undertaking. Though outsiders gave me the credit of his +subjugation, I knew quite well that there not only was not, but never could +be, the necessary tinge of sentimentality in our intercourse. We were much +too free and easy for that, and we laughed and talked, rambled and boated +together, "like two babes in the woods," as Koenigin was fond of remarking. + +It was in Florida that all this took place--in shabby, fascinating +Jacksonville, where one meets everybody and does nothing in particular +except lounge about and be happy. So the Jook and I lounged and were happy +with a placid, unexciting sort of happiness, until the day when Kitty Grey +descended upon us with the suddenness of a meteor, and very like one in her +bewildering brightness. + +Kitty was by no means pretty, but, though women recognized this fact, the +man who could be convinced of it remains yet to be discovered. You might +force them to confess that Kitty's nose was flat, her eyes not well shaped, +her teeth crooked, her mouth slightly awry, but it always came back to the +same point: "Curious that with all these defects she should still be so +exquisitely pretty!" + +Really, I did not so much wonder at it myself sometimes when I saw Kitty's +pale cheeks flush with that delicious pink, her wide hazel eyes deepen and +glow, her little face light up with elfish mirth, and her round, childish +figure poise itself in some coquettish attitude. Then she had such absurd +little hands, with short fingers and babyish dimples, such tiny feet, and +such a wealth of crinkled dark-brown hair--such bewitching little helpless +ways, too, a fashion of throwing herself appealingly on your compassion +which no man on earth could resist! At bottom she was a self-reliant, +independent little soul, but no mortal man ever found that out: Kitty was +far too wise. + +Of course, as soon as I saw Kitty I thought of the Jook. Would he or +wouldn't he? On the whole, I was rather afraid he wouldn't, for Kitty's +laugh sometimes rang out a little too loud, and Kitty's spirits sometimes +got the better of her and set her frisking like a kitten, and I was afraid +the modest sense of propriety which was one of the Jook's strong points +would not survive it. However, I concluded to risk it, but just here a +sudden and unforeseen obstacle checked my triumphant course. + +"Mr. Warriner," I said sweetly (I was always horribly afraid I should call +him Mr. Jook, but I never did), "I want to introduce you to my friend, Miss +Grey." + +The Jook looked at me with his most placid smile, and replied blandly, +"Thank you very much, but _I'd rather not_." + +Did any one ever hear of such a man? I understood his reasons well enough, +though he did not take the trouble to explain them: it was only +exclusiveness gone mad. And he prided himself upon his race and breeding, +and considered our American men boors! + +After that I nearly gave up his case as hopeless, and devoted myself to +Kitty, whom I really believe the Jook did not know by sight after having +been for nearly a week in the same house with her. + +Kitty once or twice mildly insinuated her desire to know him. "He has such +a nice face," she said plaintively, "and such lovely little curly brown +whiskers! He is the only man in the house worth looking at, but if I happen +to come up when he is talking to you, he instantly disappears. He must +think me _very_ ugly." + +It was really very embarrassing to me, for of course I could not tell her +that the Jook had declined the honor of an introduction. I knew, as well as +if she had told me so, that Kitty in her secret heart accused me of a mean +and selfish desire to keep him all to myself, but I was obliged meekly to +endure the obloquy, undeserved as it was. Koenigin used to go into fits of +laughter at my dilemma, and just at this period my admiration of the Jook +went down to the lowest ebb. "He is a selfish, conceited creature!" I +exclaimed in my wrath. "I really believe he thinks that bewitching little +Kitty would fall in love with him forthwith if he submitted to an +introduction. Oh, I _do_ wish he knew what we thought of him! _Why_ doesn't +he listen outside of ventilators?" + +"My dear," said Koenigin, still laughing, though sympathetic, "it strikes me +that we began by making rather a demi-god of the man, and are ending by +stripping him of even the good qualities which he probably does possess." + +Well! things went on in this exasperating way for a week or so longer. Of +course I washed my hands of the Jook, for I was too much exasperated to be +even civil to him. Kitty was as bright and good-natured as ever, ready to +enjoy all the little pleasures that came in her way, though now and then I +fancied that I detected a stealthy, wistful look at the Jook's impassive +face. + +It was lovely that day, but fearfully hot. The sun showered down its +burning rays upon the white Florida sands, the sky was one arch of +cloudless blue, and the water-oaks swung their moss-wreaths languidly over +the deserted streets. We had been dreaming and drowsing away the morning, +Koenigin, Kitty and I, in the jelly-fish-like state into which one naturally +falls in Florida. + +Suddenly Kitty sprang to her feet. "I can't stand this any longer," she +said: "I shall turn into an oyster if I vegetate here. Please, do you see +any shells sprouting on my back yet?" + +"What do you want to do?" I asked drowsily. "You can't walk in this heat, +and if you go on the river the sun will take the skin off your face, and +where are you then, Miss Kitty?" + +"I can't help that," retorted Kitty in a tone of desperation. "I don't +exactly know where I shall go, but I think in pursuit of some yellow +jessamine." + +I sat straight up and gazed at her: "Are you mad, Kitty? Has the heat +addled your brain already? You would have to walk at least a mile before +you could find any; and what's the good of it, after all? It would all be +withered before you could get home." + +"Can't help that," repeated Kitty: "I shall have had it, at all events. +Any way, I'm going, and you two can finish your dreams in peace." + +It was useless to argue with Kitty when she was in that mood, so I +contented myself with giving her directions for reaching the nearest copse +where she would be likely to find the fragrant beauty. + +Two hours later Koenigin sat at the window gazing down the long sandy +street. Suddenly her face changed, an expression of interest and surprise +came into her dreamy eyes: she put up her glass, and then broke into a +laugh. "Come and look at this," she exclaimed; and I came. + +What I saw was only Kitty and the Jook, but Kitty and the Jook walking side +by side in the most amicable manner--Kitty sparkling, bewitching, helpless, +appealing by turns or altogether as only she could be; the Jook watching +her with an expression of amusement and delight on his handsome face. And +both were laden with great wreaths and trails of yellow jessamine, golden +chalices of fragrance, drooping sprays of green glistening leaves, until +they looked like walking bowers. + +"How on earth--" I exclaimed, and could get no further: my feelings choked +me. + +Kitty came in radiant and smiling as the morning, bearing her treasures. Of +course we both pounced upon her: "Kitty, where did you meet the Jook? How +did it happen? What did you do?" + +"Cows!" said Kitty solemnly, with grave lips and twinkling eyes. + +"Cows? Cows in Florida? Kitty, _what_ do you mean?" + +"A cow ran at me, and I was frightened and ran at Mr. Warriner. He drove +the cow off. That's all. Then he walked home with me. Any harm in that?" + +"Now, Kitty, the idea! A Florida cow run at you? If you had said a pig, +there might be some sense in it, for the pigs here do have some life about +them; but a cow! Why, the creatures have not strength enough to stand up: +they are all starving by inches." + +"Can't help that," said Kitty. "Must have thought I was good to eat, then, +I suppose. I thought she was going to toss me, but I don't think it would +be much more agreeable to be eaten. Mr. Warriner is my preserver, anyhow, +and I shall treat him _'as sich_.'" + +Kitty looked so mischievous and so mutinous that there was evidently no use +in trying to get anything more out of her, and after standing there a few +minutes fingering her blossoms and smiling to herself, she danced off to +dress for tea. + +"Selfish little thing, not to offer us one of those lovely sprays!" I +exclaimed, but Koenigin laughed: "My dear, they are hallowed. Our touch +would profane them." + +Koenigin always saw further than I did, and I gasped: "Koenigin! you don't +think--" + +"Oh no, dear, not yet. Kitty is piqued, and wants to fascinate the Jook a +little--just a little as yet, but she may burn her fingers before she gets +through. Looks are contagious, and--did you see her face?" + +Such a brilliant little figure as slipped softly into the dining-room that +evening, all wreathed and twisted and garlanded about with the shining +green vines, gemmed with their golden stars. Head and throat and waist and +round white arms were all twined with them, and blossoming sprays and knots +of the delicately carved blossoms drooped or clung here and there amid her +floating hair and gauzy black drapery. How did the child ever make them +stick? How had she managed to decorate herself so elaborately in the short +time that had elapsed since her return? But Kitty had ways of doing things +unknown to duller mortals. + +Not a word had Kitty for me that evening, but for her father such clinging, +coaxing, wheedling ways, and for the Jook such coy, sparkling, +artfully-accidental glances, such shy turns of the little head, such dainty +capricious airs, that it was delicious to watch her. Koenigin and I sat in a +dark corner for the express purpose of admiring her delicate little +manoeuvres. As for her father, good stolid man! he was well used to Kitty's +freaks, and went on reading his newspaper in such a matter-of-fact way that +she might as well have wheedled the Pyramid of Cheops. The Jook, however, +was all that could be desired. The shyest of men--shy and proud as only an +Englishman can be--he could not make up his mind to walk directly up to +Kitty, as an American would do, as all the young Americans in the room +would have done if Kitty had let them. But Kitty, flighty little butterfly +as she seemed, had stores of tact and finesse in that little brain of hers, +and the power of developing a fine reserve which had already wilted more +than one of the young men of the house. For Kitty was none of your arrant +and promiscuous flirts who count "all fish that come to their net." She was +choice and dainty in her flirtations, but, possibly, none the less +dangerous for that. + +The Jook hovered about the room from chair to sofa, from sofa to +window-seat, finding himself at each remove one degree nearer to Kitty. + +"He is like a tame canary-bird," whispered Koenigin. "Let it alone and it +will come up to you after a while, but speak to it and you frighten it off +at once." + +And when at length he reached Kitty's side, how beautiful was the look of +slight surprise, not _too_ strongly marked, and the half-shy pleasure in +the eyes which she raised to him; and then the coy little gesture with +which she swept aside her draperies and made room for him. Half the power +of Kitty's witcheries lay in her frank, childish manner, just dashed with +womanly reserve. + +Well! the Jook was thoroughly in the vortex now: there was no doubt about +that. Kitty might laugh as loud as she pleased, and he only looked charmed. +Kitty might frisk like a will-o'-the wisp, and he only admired her innocent +vivacity. Even the bits of slang and the Americanisms which occasionally +slipped from her only struck him as original and piquant. How would it all +end? That neither Koenigin nor I could divine, for Kitty was not one to wear +her heart upon her sleeve. It was very little that we saw of Kitty in +these days, for she was always wandering off somewhere, boating on the +broad placid river or lounging about "Greenleaf's" or driving--always with +the Jook for cavalier, and, if the excursions were long, with her father to +play propriety. When she did come into our room, she was not our own Kitty, +with her childish airs and merry laughter. This was a brilliant and +volatile little woman of the world, who rattled on in the most amusing +manner about everything--except the Jook. About him her lips never opened, +and the most distant allusion to him on our part was sufficient to send her +fluttering off on some pressing and suddenly remembered errand. Yet this +reserve hardly seemed like the shyness of conscious but unacknowledged +love. On the contrary, we both fancied--Koenigin and I--that Kitty began to +look worried, and somehow, in watching her and the Jook, we began to be +conscious that a sort of constraint had crept into her manner toward him. +It could be no doubt of his feelings that caused it, for no woman could +desire a bolder or more ardent lover than he had developed into, infected, +no doubt, by the American atmosphere. Sometimes, too, we caught shy, +wistful glances at the Jook from Kitty's eyes, hastily averted with an +almost guilty look if he turned toward her. + +"What can it mean, Koenigin?" I said. "She looks as if she wanted to confess +some sin, and was afraid to." + +"Some childish peccadillo," said Koenigin. "In spite of all her +woman-of-the-world-ishness the child has a morbidly sensitive conscience, +and is troubled about some nonsense that nobody else would think of twice." + +"Can it be that she has only been flirting, and is frightened to find how +desperately in earnest he is?" + +"Possibly," replied Koenigin. "But I fancy that she is too well used to that +phase of affairs to let it worry her. Wait a while and we shall see." + +We couldn't make anything of it, but even the Jook became worried at last +by Kitty's queer behavior, and I suppose he thought he had better settle +the matter. For one evening, when I was keeping my room with a headache, I +was awakened from a light sleep by a sound of voices on the piazza outside +of my window. It was some time before I was sufficiently wide awake to +realize that the speakers were Kitty and the Jook, and when I did I was in +a dilemma. To let them know that I was there would be to overwhelm them +both with confusion and interrupt their conversation at a most interesting +point, for the Jook had evidently just made his declaration. It was +impossible for me to leave the room, for I was by no means in a costume to +make my appearance in the public halls. On the whole, I concluded that the +best thing I could do would be to keep still and never, by word or look, to +let either of them know of my most involuntary eavesdropping. + +Kitty was speaking when I heard them first, talking in a broken, hesitating +voice, which was very queer from our bright, fluent little Kitty: "Mr. +Warriner, you don't know what a humbug you make me feel when you talk of +'my innocence' and 'unconsciousness' and 'lack of vanity,' and all the rest +of it. I have been feeling more and more what a vain, deceitful, +hypocritical little wretch I am ever since I knew you. I have been +expecting you to find me out every day, and I almost hoped you would." + +"What _do_ you mean, Miss Grey?" asked the Jook in tones of utter +amazement, as well he might. + +"Oh dear! how shall I tell you?" sighed poor Kitty; and I could _feel_ her +blushes burning through her words. Then, with a sudden rush: "Can't you +see? I feel as if I had _stolen_ your love, for it was all gained under +false pretences. You never would have cared for me if you had known what a +miserable hypocrite I really was. Why, that very first day I wasn't afraid +of the cow--she didn't even look at me--but I saw you coming, +and--and--Helen wouldn't introduce you to me--and it just struck me it +would be a good chance, and so I rushed up to you and--Oh! what will you +think of me?" + +"Think?" said the Jook: "why, I think that while ninety-nine women out of +a hundred are hypocrites, not one in a thousand has the courage to atone +for it by an avowal like yours. Not that it was exactly hypocrisy, either." + +The poor blundering Jook! Always saying the most maddening things under the +firm conviction that it was the most delicate compliment. + +Kitty was too much in earnest to mind it now, though. "Do you know," she +went on, "that from the very first day I came into the house I was +determined to captivate you?--that every word and every look was directed +to that end? I have been nothing but an actress all through. I have done it +before, hundreds and hundreds of times, but I never felt the shame of it +until now--because--because--" + +"Because you never loved any one before? Is that it, Kitty?" said the Jook +tenderly. + +"Oh, I don't know," said Kitty desperately. "How can I tell? But it's all +Helen's fault. If she had introduced you to me in a rational way, I should +never have gone on so. But she wouldn't, and I was piqued--" + +"I must exonerate Miss Helen," interrupted the Jook. "She wanted to +introduce me, and I declined. I am sure I don't know why--English reserve, +I suppose. I had not seen you then, you know, and some of the people here +are such a queer lot that I rather dreaded new acquaintances." + +"Not Helen's fault?" wailed Kitty. "Oh, this is stolen--oh, poor Helen!" + +Naturally, the Jook was utterly bewildered, but as for me I sprang up into +a sitting posture, for the meaning of Kitty's behavior had just flashed +upon me. Absolutely, the poor little goose thought that in accepting the +Jook, as she was evidently dying to do, she would be robbing me of my +lover. And she never guessed at my own little romance, tucked away safely +in the most secret corner of my heart, which put any man save one quite out +of the question for me. If I had stopped to think, I suppose I should not +have done what I did, but in my surprise the words came out before I +thought: "Good gracious, Kitty my dear! do take the Jook if you want him! +_I_ don't." + +I could not help laughing when I realized what I had done. A little shriek +from Kitty and a _very_ British exclamation from the Jook, a slight scuffle +of chairs and a sense, rather than sound, of confusion, announced the +effect of my words. + +I waited for their reply, but dead silence prevailed, so I was obliged to +speak again. "You needn't be alarmed," I said, peering cautiously through +the chinks in the blinds, for I had approached the window by this time. "I +didn't mean to listen, but I couldn't get out of the way, and I never +intended to let you or any one else know that I had heard your +conversation. I'm awfully sorry that I have disturbed you, but, as I am in +for it now, I might as well go on." + +There I stopped, for I didn't exactly know what to say, and I hoped that +one of them would "give me a lead." I could just catch a glimpse of their +faces in the moonlight. The Jook was staring straight at the window-shutter +behind which I lurked, and the wrath and disgust expressed in his handsome +features set me off into a silent chuckle. I was sorry for Kitty, though. +Her face drooped as if it were weighed down by its own blushes, and the +long lashes quivered upon the hot cheeks. + +"Ah, really, Miss Helen," spoke the Jook at last, "this is a most +unexpected pleasure. Ah, really, you know, I mean--" + +It was not very lucid, but it was all I needed, and I replied suavely, "Oh +yes, I understand. You never asked me, and never had the faintest idea of +doing so. Otherwise, we should not have been such good friends. All I want +is to enforce the fact on Kitty's mind.--And now, Kitty, my dear, if you +are quite satisfied on this point, I will dress and go down stairs.--Don't +disturb yourselves, pray!" for both of them showed signs of moving. "You +can finish your conversation to much better advantage where you are, and +this little excitement has quite cured my headache." + +I wonder how in the world they ever took up the dropped stitches in that +conversation? They did it somehow, though, for when they reappeared Kitty +was the prettiest possible picture of shy, blushing, shamefaced happiness, +while the Jook was fairly beaming with pride and delight. It was a case of +true love at last: there was no doubt about that--such love as few would +have believed that a flighty little creature like Kitty was capable of +feeling. It was wonderful to see how quickly all her little wiles and +coquetries fell off under its influence, just as the rosy, fluttering +leaves of the spring fall off when the fruit pushes its way. I don't +believe it had ever struck her before that there was anything degrading in +this playing fast and loose with men's hearts which had been her favorite +pastime, or in beguiling them by feigning a passion of which she had never +felt one thrill. It was not until Love the magician had touched her heart +that the honest and loyal little Kitty that lay at the bottom of all her +whims and follies was developed. The very sense of unworthiness which she +felt in view of the Jook's straightforward and manly ardor was the surest +guarantee for the perfection of her cure. + +A truce to moralizing. Kitty does not need it, nor the Jook either. If he +is not proud of the bright little American bride he is to take back with +him to the "tight little isle" of our forefathers, why, appearances are +"deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked." + +HENRIETTA H. HOLDICH. + + + + +COMMUNISM IN THE UNITED STATES. + + +Nowhere in the history of the world have we any example of successful +communism. The ancient Cretan and Lacedemonian experiments, the efforts of +the Essenes and early Christians, the modified communities of St. Anthony +and several orders of monks, the schemes of the Anabaptists of the +sixteenth century, together with all the experiments of modern times, have +proved essential failures. Setting out with ideas of perfection in the +social state, and undertaking nothing less than the entire abolition of the +miseries of the world, the communists of all times have lived in a +condition the least ideal that can be imagined. The usual course of +socialistic communities has been to start out with a great flourish, to +quarrel and divide after a few months, and then to decrease and degenerate +until a final dispersion by general consent ended the attempt. During the +short existence of nearly all such communities the members have lived in +want of the ordinary comforts of life, in dispute about their respective +rights and duties, at law with retiring members, and battling with the +wilds and malarias of the countries in which alone anything like practical +communism has been usually possible. The most successful (so far as any of +these attempts can be called successful) have been those communities which +have been founded on a religion and which have consisted entirely of +members of one faith. But all political communism has utterly failed, and +the name is little more than a synonym for the most egregious blunders, +excesses and crimes of which visionary and unpractical people can be +guilty. + +The United States seem ill suited for the spread of communistic ideas, +notwithstanding they contain almost the only socialistic communities to be +found anywhere. Though the people are free to live in common if they +desire, and although land and every facility are offered on easy terms for +the realization of communism--which is not the case in Europe (and which +is, therefore, the reason why the New World is chosen for communistic +experiments)--yet there is felt no need of communism here. There are +neither the political nor the social inducements for it which exist in +Europe, and all efforts to excite an enthusiasm on the subject have +invariably failed. Almost the only agitators are foreigners, and nearly all +the existing communities are composed of foreigners. Of these, two only are +political, the Icarian and the Cedar Vale, while the rest are religious. + +The Icarian Community in Adams county, Iowa, about two miles from Corning, +a station on the Burlington and Missouri River Railroad, is the result of +an effort to realize the communistic theory of M. Cabet, a French writer +and politician of some note. It is perhaps the most just and practical of +all communistic systems; for the reader will remember that social systems +are as numerous in France as religious systems are in this country, and +take much the same place in the passions and bigotries of the people of +France, where there is but one religion, as our various sects do here, +where there are so many. The system of M. Cabet differs from the others in +much the same manner as our religious sects differ from one another; which +is not of much importance to the outside world, as they all contain the one +principle of a community of goods. M. Cabet first promulgated his system in +the shape of a romance entitled _A Voyage to Icaria_, in which he +represented the community at work under the most favorable circumstances +and in a high degree of prosperity. According to his system, all goods are +to be held in common, and all the people are to have an equal voice in the +disposal of them. Each is to contribute of labor and capital all that he +can for the common good, and to get all that he needs from the common fund. +"From each according to his ability--to each according to his wants," is +the formula of principles. The practical working of the community will +further illustrate the system. + +In 1848, M. Cabet, with some three thousand of his followers, sailed from +France for New Orleans, intending to take up land in Texas or Arkansas on +which to establish a community, having the promise that he would soon be +followed by ten thousand more of his disciples. After spending several +months in reconnoitring, during which half of his followers got +discontented and left him, he settled with about fifteen hundred at Nauvoo, +Illinois, where they bought out the property of the Mormons, who had +recently been driven from that place. There they commenced operations, +establishing a saw- and grist-mill, and carrying on farming and several +branches of domestic manufacturing. In a little while they sent out a +branch colony to Icaria, in Adams county, Iowa, where they purchased, or +entered under the Homestead Act, four thousand acres of land. In this place +likewise they built a mill and went to farming and carrying on the more +simple trades. In a little while, however, a quarrel arose in the principal +community at Nauvoo in regard to the use and abuse of power, when, after a +rage of passion not unlike that which they had exhibited in the Revolution +of 1848 in France, M. Cabet, with a large minority, seceded and went to St. +Louis, where they expected to form another and more perfect community. They +never formed this community, however, and were soon dispersed. The +community at Nauvoo, being now harassed with debts and with lawsuits +growing out of the withdrawal of M. Cabet and his party, repaired to their +branch colony at Icaria, where they have been ever since. Here they had +likewise frequent disputes and withdrawals, often giving rise to lawsuits +and a loss of property, until in 1866, when the writer first visited them, +they were reduced to thirty-five members. Since that time they have picked +up a few members, mostly old companions who had left them for individual +life, until now they have about sixty in all. They own at present about two +thousand acres of land, of which three hundred and fifty are under +cultivation. They have good stock, consisting of about one hundred and +twenty head of cattle, five hundred sheep, two hundred and fifty hogs and +thirty horses. They still have their saw- and grist-mill, now run by steam, +but give most of their time to farming. They preserve the family relation, +and observe the strictest rules of chastity. Each family lives in a +separate house, but they all eat at a common table. By an economic division +of labor one man cooks for all these persons, another bakes, another +attends to the dairy, another makes the shoes, another the clothes; and in +general one man manages some special work for the whole. No one has any +money or need of any. All purchases are made from the common purse, and +each gets what he needs. The government is a pure democracy. The officers +are chosen once a year by universal (male) suffrage, and consist of a +president, secretary (and treasurer), director of agriculture and director +of industry. They have no religion, but, like most of the European +communists, are free-thinkers. They are highly moral, however, and much +esteemed by their neighbors. Some of them are quite learned, and all of +them may be pronounced decidedly heroic for the terrible privations they +have undergone in order to realize their political principles, to which +they are as strongly and sincerely devoted as any Christian to his +religion. + +Such is a sketch of the most perfect system and most successful experiment +of political communism in the United States--not very encouraging, it will +be confessed. The other example of political communism is the Cedar Vale +Community in Howard county, Kansas, which needs only to be mentioned here, +as it has as yet no history. It was commenced in 1871, and is composed of +Russian materialists and American spiritualists. They have a community of +goods like the Icarians, and in general their principles are the same. They +had only about a dozen members at last accounts. Another and similar +community was established in 1874 in Chesterfield county, Virginia, called +the "Social Freedom Community," its principles being enunciated as a "unity +of interest and political, religious and social freedom;" but we cannot +discover whether it is yet in existence, as at last accounts it had only +two full members and eight probationers. It will be seen from these +examples that the prospects of political communism are far from promising. +Its principal power has always been as a sentiment, and it can be dreaded +only as an appeal to the destitute and lawless to rise in acts of violence. +It has been powerful in France in revolutions, riots and mobs, and in this +country in aiding the late strikers in their work of destruction. + +The other existing communities are founded on some religious basis, being +efforts on the part of their founders to secure their religious rights or +to live with those of the same faith in closer relations. And although +their measures have been similar in many respects to those of the political +communists, they have resorted to them not on account of any political +principles, but because they believed them to be commanded by Scripture or +to grow out of some peculiarity of religious faith or duty. Most of them +have been formed after the model of the society of the apostles, who had +their goods in common, and because of their example. None, so far as we +know, have ever proposed to establish communities by force or to have the +whole people embraced in them. Held together by their peculiar religious +principles, they have been far more successful (especially when under some +shrewd leader whom they believed to have a spiritual authority) than when +actuated purely by reason. + +Perhaps the most successful of these religious communities is that of the +"True Inspirationists," known as the Amana Community, in Iowa, +seventy-eight miles west of Iowa City, on the Chicago, Rock Island and +Pacific Railroad. These are all Germans, who came to this country in 1842, +and settled at first near Buffalo, New York, on a tract of land called +Ebenezer, from which they are sometimes known as "Ebenezers." This tract +comprised five thousand acres of land, including what is now a part of the +city of Buffalo. In 1855 they moved to their present locality in Iowa. They +pretend to be under direct inspiration, receiving from God the model and +general orders for the direction of their community. The present head, +both spiritual and temporal, is a woman, a sort of sibyl who negotiates the +inspirations. Their business affairs are managed by thirteen trustees, +chosen annually by the male members, who also choose the president. They +are very religious, though having but little outward form. There are +fourteen hundred and fifty members, who live in seven different towns or +villages, which are all known by the name of Amana--East Amana, West Amana, +etc. They have their property for the most part in common. Each family has +a house, to which food is daily distributed. The work is done by a prudent +division of labor, as in the Icarian community. But instead of providing +clothing and incidentals, the community makes to each person an allowance +for this purpose--to the men of from forty to one hundred dollars a year, +to the women from twenty-five to thirty dollars, and to the children from +five to ten dollars. There are public stores in the community at which the +members can get all they need besides food, and at which also strangers can +deal. They dress very plainly, use simple food, and are quite industrious. +They aim to keep the men and women apart as much as possible. They sit +apart at the tables and in church, and when divine service is dismissed the +men remain in their ranks until the women get out of church and nearly +home. In their games and amusements they keep apart, as well as in all +combinations whether for business or pleasure. The boys play with boys and +the girls with girls. They marry at twenty-four. They own at present +twenty-five thousand acres of land, a considerable part of which is under +cultivation. They have, in round numbers, three thousand sheep, fifteen +hundred head of cattle, two hundred horses and twenty-five hundred hogs. +Besides farming, they carry on two woollen-mills, four saw-mills, two +grist-mills and a tannery. They are almost entirely self-supporting in the +arts, working up their own products and living off the result. In medicine +they are homoeopathists. + +The "Rappists" or Harmony Society at Economy, Pennsylvania, is composed of +about one hundred members, being all that remain of a colony of six hundred +who came from Germany in 1803. They were called Separatists or +"Come-outers" in their own country, and much persecuted on account of their +nonconformity with the established Church. They landed in Baltimore, and +some of them who never found their way into the community, or who +subsequently withdrew, settled in Maryland and Pennsylvania, where they are +still known as a religious sect. Those who remained together purchased five +thousand acres of land north of Pittsburg, in the valley of the +Conoquenessing. In 1814 they moved to Posey county, Indiana, in the Wabash +Valley, where they purchased thirty thousand acres of land, and in 1824 +they moved back again to their present locality in Pennsylvania. In 1831 a +dissension arose among them, and a division was effected by one Bernard +Mueller--or "Count Maximilian" as he called himself--who went off with +one-third of the members and a large share of the property, and founded a +new community at Phillips, ten miles off, on eight hundred acres of land, +which, however, soon disbanded on account of internal quarrels. + +The peculiarity of this community is that there is no intercourse between +the sexes of any kind. In 1807 they gave up marriage. The husbands parted +from their wives, and have henceforth lived with them only as sisters. They +claim to have authority for this in the words of the apostle: "This I say, +brethren, the time is short; it remaineth that both they that have wives be +as though they had none," etc. They teach that Adam in his perfect state +was bi-sexual and had no need of a female, being in this respect like God; +that subsequently, when he fell, the female part (rib, etc.) was separated +from him and made into another person, and that when they become perfect +through their religion the bi-sexual nature of the soul is restored. +Christ, they claim, was also of this dual nature, and therefore never +married. They believe that the world will soon come to an end, and that it +is their duty to help it along by having no children, and so putting an end +to the race as well as the planet. + +Their property is all held in common and managed by a council of seven, +from whom the trustees are chosen. From four to eight live in each house, +men and women together, who regard each other as of the same sex, and are +never watched. Each household cooks for itself, although there is a general +bakery, from which bread is taken around to the houses as they have need. +The members are fond of music and flowers, but they discard dancing. Though +Germans, they have ceased to use tobacco; which loss, it is said, the men +feel more heavily than that of the wives. They make considerable wine and +beer, which they drink in moderation. They are said to be worth from two +millions to three millions of dollars, and speculate in mines, oil-wells, +saw-mills, etc., doing very little hard work, and hiring laborers from +without to take their places in all drudgery. They are engaged principally +in farming and the common trades, and supply nearly everything for +themselves. They are nearly all aged, none of them being under forty except +some adopted children. All are Germans and use the German language. + +The Shakers are the oldest society of communists in the United States. The +parent society at Mount Lebanon, New York, was established in 1792, being +the outgrowth of a religious revival in which there were violent hysterical +manifestations or "shakes," from which they took their name. In this +revival one Ann Lee, known among them as "Mother Ann," was prominent. This +woman, of English birth, emigrated to Niskayuna, New York, about seven +miles north-west of Albany, where she pretended to speak from inspiration +and work miracles, so that the people soon came to regard her as being +another revelation of Christ and as having his authority. Being persecuted +by the outside world, her followers, after her death, formed a community in +which to live and enjoy their religion alone and: undisturbed. Their +principles may be summed up as special revelation, spiritualism, celibacy, +oral confession, community, non-resistance, peace, the gift of healing, +miracles, physical health and separation from the world. Like the Rappists, +they neither marry nor have any substitute for marriage, receiving all +their children by adoption. They live in large families or communes, +consisting of eighty or ninety members, in one big house, men and women +together. Each brother is assigned to a sister, who mends his clothes, +looks after his washing, tells him when he needs a new garment, reproves +him when not orderly, and has a spiritual oversight over him generally. +Though living in the same house, the sexes eat, labor and work apart. They +keep apart and in separate ranks in their worship. They do not shake hands +with the opposite sex, and there is rarely any scandal or gossip among +them, so far as the outside world can learn. There are two orders, known as +the Novitiate and the Church order, the latter having intercourse only with +their own members in a sort of monkish seclusion, while the others treat +with the outside world. The head of a Shaker society is a "ministry," +consisting of from three to four persons, male and female. The society is +divided into families, as stated above, each family having two elders, one +male and one female. In their worship they are drawn up in ranks and go +through various gyrations, consisting of processions and dances, during +which they continually hold out their hands as if to receive something. The +Shakers are industrious, hard-working, economical and cleanly. They dress +uniformly. Their houses are all alike. They say "yea" and "nay," although +not "thee" and "thou," and call persons by their first names. They confine +themselves chiefly to the useful, and use no ornaments. There are at +present eighteen societies of Shakers in the United States, scattered +throughout seven States. They number in all two thousand four hundred and +fifteen persons, and own one hundred thousand acres of land. Their +industries are similar to those of the Rappists and True Inspirationists, +and are somewhat famed for the excellence of their products. The Shakers +are nearly all Americans, like the Oneidans, next mentioned, and unlike all +other communistic societies in the United States. + +The Perfectionists of Oneida and Wallingford are perhaps the most singular +of all communists. They were founded by John Humphrey Noyes, who organized +a community at Putney, Vermont, in 1846. In 1848 this was consolidated with +others at Oneida in Madison county, New York. In 1849 a branch community +was started at Brooklyn, New York, and in 1850 one at Wallingford, +Connecticut, all of which have since broken up or been merged in the two +communities of Oneida and Wallingford. Their principles are perfectionism, +communism and free love. By "perfection" they mean freedom from sin, which +they all claim to have, or to seek as practically attainable. They claim, +in explaining their sense of this term, that as a man who does not drink is +free from intemperance, and one who does not swear is free from profanity, +so one who does not sin at all is free from sin, or morally perfect. Their +communism is like that of the Icarians, so far as property is concerned, +this being owned equally by all for the benefit of all as they severally +have need; which state they claim is the state of man after the +resurrection. But they have a community not only of goods, but also of +wives; or, rather, they have no wives at all, but all women belong to all +men, and all men to all women; which they assert to be the state of Nature, +and therefore the most perfect state. They call it complex marriage instead +of simple, and it is both polygamy and polyandry at the same time. They are +enemies of all exclusiveness or selfishness, and hold that there should be +no exclusiveness in money or in women or children. Their idea is to be in +the most literal sense no respecters of persons. All women and children are +the same to all men, and _vice versa_. A man never knows his own children, +and the mothers, instead of raising their children themselves, give them +over to a common nursery, somewhat after the suggestion of Plato in his +_Republic_. If any two persons are suspected of forming special +attachments, and so of violating the principle of equal and universal love, +or of using their sexual freedom too liberally, they are put under +discipline. They are very religious, their religion, however, consisting +only in keeping free from sin. They have no sermons, ceremonies, sacraments +or religious manifestations whatever. There are no public prayers, and no +loud prayers at all. Their method of discipline is called "criticism," and +consists in bringing the offender into the presence of a committee of men +and women, who each pass their criticisms on him and allow him to confess +or criticise himself. The least sign of worldliness or evidence of +impropriety is enough to subject one to this ordeal. They are very careful +about whom they admit to their community, as there are numerous rakes and +idlers who make application on the supposition that it is a harem or +Turkish paradise. None are admitted who are not imbued with their doctrine +of perfection, and who do not show evidences of it in their lives. In a +business point of view, they are comparatively successful, the original +members having contributed over one hundred thousand dollars' worth of +property, which has not depreciated. They engage in farming, wine-raising +and various industries, and are known in the general markets for their +products. + +The Separatists at Zoar, Ohio, about halfway between Cleveland and +Pittsburg, are a body of Germans who fled from Wuertemberg in 1817 to escape +religious persecution. They are mystics, followers of Jacob Boehm, Gerhard, +Terstegen, Jung Stilling and others of that class, and considerably above +the average of communists in intellect and culture. They were aided to +emigrate to this country by some English Quakers, with whom there is a +resemblance in some of their tenets. They purchased fifty-six hundred acres +of land in Ohio, but did not at first intend to form a community, having +been driven to that resort subsequently in order to the better realization +of their religious principles. They now own over seven thousand acres of +land in Ohio, besides some in Iowa. They have a woollen-factory, two +flour-mills, a saw-mill, a planing-mill, a machine-shop, a tannery and a +dye-house; also a hotel and store for the accommodation of their neighbors. +They are industrious, simple in their dress and food, and very economical. +They use neither tobacco nor pork, and are homoeopathists in medicine. In +religion they are orthodox, with the usual latitude of mystics. They have +no ceremonies, say "thou" and "thee," take off their hats and bow to nobody +except God, refuse to fight or go to law, and settle their disputes by +arbitration. At first they prohibited marriage and had their women in +common, like the Perfectionists. In 1828, however, they commenced to break +their rules and take wives. Now they observe the marriage state. Their +officers are elected by the whole society, the women voting as well as the +men. + +The Bethel and Aurora communities--the former in Shelby county, Missouri, +forty-eight miles from Hannibal, and the latter in Oregon, twenty-nine +miles south of Portland, on the Oregon and California Railroad--were +founded in 1848 by Dr. Kiel, a Prussian mystic, who practised medicine a +while in New York and Pittsburg, and subsequently formed a religious sect +of which these communists are members. He was subsequently joined by some +of "Count Maximilian's" people, who had left Rapp's colony at Economy, +which this closely resembles except as to celibacy. He first founded the +colony in Missouri, where he took up two thousand five hundred and sixty +acres of land, and established the usual trades needed by farmers. In 1847 +there were the inevitable quarrel and division. In 1855 he set out to +establish a similar community on the Pacific coast. The first settlement +was made at Shoalwater Bay, Washington Territory, which was, however, +subsequently abandoned for the present one at Aurora. There are now about +four hundred members at Aurora, who own eighteen thousand acres of land, +and have the usual shops and occupations of communists mentioned above, +carrying on a considerable trade with their neighbors. The members of both +communities are all either Germans or Pennsylvania Dutch, and thrive by the +industry and economy peculiar to those people. Their government is +parental, intended to be like God's. Kiel is the temporal and spiritual +head. Their religion consists in practical benevolence, the forms of +worship being Lutheran. They are thought to be exceedingly wealthy, but if +their property were divided among them there would be less than three +thousand dollars to each family, which, though more than the property of +most other communities would average, is but small savings for twenty +years. They preserve the usual family relations. + +The Bishop Hill Community, in Henry county, Illinois, was formed by a party +of Swedes who came to this country in 1846 under Eric Janson, who had been +their religious leader in the Old World, where they were greatly persecuted +on account of their peculiar religious views. They suffered great hardships +in effecting a first settlement, some of them going off, in the interest of +the community, to dig gold in California, and others taking to +stock-raising and speculating. In this they were quite successful, so that +jobs and speculations became the peculiar work of this community. They took +various public and private contracts; among others, one to grade a large +portion of the Chicago, Burlington and Quincy Railroad and to build some of +its bridges. In 1859 they owned ten thousand acres of good land, and had +the finest cattle in the State. In 1859, however, the young people became +discontented and wished to dissolve the community. They divided the +property in 1860, when one faction continued the community with its share. +In 1861 this party also broke up, separating into three divisions. In 1862 +these again divided the property after numerous lawsuits. A small fraction, +I believe, still continues a community on the ruins. In this community the +families lived separately, but ate all together. They had no president or +single head, the business being transacted by a board of trustees. Their +religion was their principal concern. + +Such are the strictly communistic societies in the United States. It will +be seen that they are each of such very peculiar views that they are +specially fitted by their very oddity for a life in common, and specially +disqualified from the same cause to extend or embrace others; for while +their community of oddity makes them, by a necessarily strong sympathy, fit +associates to be together, it separates them by an impassable gulf from the +appreciation and sympathy of the rest of mankind, who are interested only +in the ordinary common-sense concerns of life. + +Besides these, there are several other colonies which, though not +communistic, have grown out of an attempt to solve some of the questions +raised by socialism. They are for the most part co-operative. The following +are the principal: The Anaheim colony in California, thirty-six miles from +Los Angelos, which was formed by a large number of Germans in 1857, who +banded together and purchased a large tract of land, on which they +successfully cultivate the vine in large quantities. The property is held +and worked all together, but the interests are separate, and will be +divided in due time. Vineland, New Jersey, on the railroad between +Philadelphia and Cape May, is another. It was purchased and laid out by +Charles K. Landis in 1861 as a private speculation, and to draw the +overcrowded population of Philadelphia into the country, where the people +could all have comfortable homes and support themselves by their own labor. +Some fifty thousand acres of land were purchased, and sold at a low rate +and on long time to actual settlers and improvers. As a result, some twelve +thousand people have been drawn thither, who cultivate all this tract and +work numerous industries besides. No liquors are allowed to be sold in the +place, so that the population is exceptionally moral as well as +industrious, and offers a model example of low rates and good government. A +successful colony exists also at Prairie Home in Franklin county, Kansas, +which was founded by a Frenchman, Monsieur E.V. Boissiere. It is designed +to be an association and co-operation based on attractive industry; a large +number of persons contributing their capital and labor under stringent +laws, the proceeds to be divided among them whenever a majority shall so +desire. I might mention other associations of this kind, which are, in +fact, however, only a variety of partnership or corporation. + +It strikes me, however, that this is the only practical remedy for the +evils which are aimed at by the communists, as far as they are remedial by +social means. If a number of working people, with the capital which their +small savings will amount to (which is always large enough for any ordinary +business if there be any considerable number of them), can be induced to +organize themselves under competent leaders, and work for a few years +together as faithfully as they ordinarily do for employers, they might +realize considerable results, and get the advantage of their own work +instead of enriching capitalists. But the difficulty is, that this class +have not, as a rule, learned either to manage great enterprises or to +submit to those who are wisest among them, but break up in disorder and +divisions when their individual preferences are crossed. The first lesson +that a man must learn who proposes to do anything in common with others +(and the more so if there be many of them) is to submit and forbear. With a +little schooling our people ought, to a greater extent than at present, to +be able to co-operate in large numbers in firms and corporations where the +members and stockholders shall themselves do all the work and receive all +the profits, and so avoid the two extremes of making profits for +capitalists and paying their earnings to officers and directors. + +AUSTIN BIERBOWER. + + + + +OUR MONTHLY GOSSIP. + + +NOTES FROM MOSCOW. + +JUNE 1 (May 20, Russian style), 1877. + +This diversity in the matter of dates is unpleasantly perplexing at times. +With every sensation of interest and pleasure I set myself about the task +of describing, I must at once begin to reckon. Twelve days' difference! +Yes, I have already grasped that fact, but then in which direction must the +deduction begin?--backward or forward? Such is the question that instantly +arises, and if we are at the fag end of one month and the beginning of +another, the amount of reckoning involved seems somewhat inadequate to the +occasion. The Russian clergy, it is said--those, at any rate, of the lowest +class, designated as "white priests," many of them peasants by birth and +marvellously illiterate--have ever been averse to any change being made in +the calendar, in order that their seasons of fasting and feasting may not +be disturbed. + +_Apropos_ of priests and priesthood. Whilst quietly at work yesterday +morning my attention was suddenly called off, first by a hurried +exclamation, and then the inharmonious--ah, how utterly +discordant!--ding-donging of church-bells. "Listen!" fell upon my ear: "one +of the secular priests belonging to St. Gregory's church died two days ago, +and is to be buried this morning. They are still saying masses over his +body, the church is packed, and it is a sight such as you may possibly not +have an opportunity of again witnessing." In half an hour we were within +the church-walls. The place was already thronged, and the air close almost +to suffocation. Never can one forget that peculiar heat, the sort of +indescribable vapor, that arose, and the perspiration that streamed down +the faces of all present, each of whom, from the oldest to the youngest, +carried a lighted candle. After many vigorous efforts, and occasional +collisions with the flaring tapers, the wax or tallow dropping at intervals +upon our cloaks, we found ourselves at last in the centre of the edifice, +immediately behind a dozen or more officiating priests clad in magnificent +robes, before whom lay their late confrere reposing in his coffin, and +dressed, according to custom, in his ecclesiastical robes. Tall lighted +candles draped with crape surrounded him, and the solemn chant had been +going on around him ever since life had become extinct. The dead in Russia +are never left alone or in the dark. Relays of singing priests take the +places of those who are weary, and friends keep watch in an adjoining room. +The Russian temperament inclines to the strongest manifestation of the +inmost feelings, and the method here of mourning for the dead is +exceptionally demonstrative. The corpse of the old priest lay surrounded by +what was of bright colors or purest white, the coffin being of the +last-mentioned hue. Black was utterly proscribed. The face and hands were +half buried in a lacy texture, whilst on the brow was placed a label, +"fillet-fashion," on which was written "The Thrice Holy," or +_Trisagion_--"O Holy God! O Holy Mighty! O Holy Immortal! have mercy upon +us!" + +Chant after chant ascended for the repose of his soul. The deacon's deep +bass voice rose ever and anon in leading fashion, the other voices +following suit. There was of course no instrumental music. This Russian +singing is curiously unique--of a character wholly different from any heard +elsewhere. It is weird in the extreme, and, if the expression be +permissible, gypsy-like. The deacons' voices are of wonderful capability, +the popular belief being that they are specially chosen on account of this +peculiar power. At last there came a pause. Not only the priests' and +deacons' voices, but those of the chanting men and boys--alike unsurpliced +and uncassocked, lacking, therefore, much of the attraction offered by a +service in the Western Catholic Church--had all at once ceased to be +heard. All were now pressing forward to kiss the dead priest--his +fellow-priests first, and then, duly in order, all his relations and +friends. "The last kiss" it is termed--a practice, it would seem, derived +from the heathen custom, of which we find such frequent mention. None, if +possible, omit the performance of this duty, all seeking to obtain the +blessing or benefit, supposed to be thereby conferred. Some, however, are +obliged to content themselves with merely kissing the corners of the +coffin. + +Many of the numerous _stichera_, as they are termed--poetically-worded +prose effusions--made use of in the course of the service are curiously +quaint. I quote two or three, of which I have since procured a translation: +"Come, my brethren, let us give our last kiss, our last farewell, to our +deceased brother. He hath now forsaken his kindred and approacheth the +grave, no longer mindful of vanity or the cares of the world. Where are now +his kindred and friends? Behold, we are now separated! Approach! embrace +him who lately was one of yourselves."--"Where now is the graceful form? +Where is youth? Where is the brightness of the eye? where the beauty of the +complexion? Closed are the eyes, the feet bound, the hands at rest: extinct +is the sense of hearing, and the tongue locked up in silence." + +The words succeeding these are supposed to emanate from the lips of the +dead, lying mute before the eyes of all present: "Brethren, friends, +kinsmen and acquaintance, view me here lying speechless, breathless, and +lament. But yesterday we conversed together. Come near, all who are bound +to me by affection, and with a last embrace pronounce the last farewell. No +longer shall I sojourn among you, no longer bear part in your discourse. +Pray earnestly that I be received into the Light of life." + +The absolution having been pronounced by the priest, a paper is placed in +the dead man's hand--"The Prayer, Hope and Confession of a faithful +Christian soul." This is accompanied by another prayer containing the +written words of absolution. This custom has given rise to the belief in +the minds of many foreigners that such missives are presented in the light +of passports to a better world; but the idea seems to be as erroneous as it +is absurd. Moreover, I believe that, strictly speaking, the custom is one +of national origin, and that the Church has had nothing to do with its +adoption. + +All the lighted tapers having been taken away by one of the attendants, the +coffin with its gilded ornaments was removed slowly from its resting-place, +and placed upon an enormous open bier or hearse, extensively mounted and +heavily ornamented with white watered silk, purple and gilt draperies, a +gilt crown surmounting all. The base of the ponderous vehicle was alone +permitted to boast a fringe of deep black cloth--as if, however, for the +sole purpose of hiding the wheels. The six horses, three abreast, were also +enveloped in black cloth drapery touching the ground on either side. Right +and left of the coffin itself, and mounted therefore considerably aloft, +stood two yellow _stoicharioned_ (or robed) deacons, wearing the +_epimanikia_ and _orarion_--the former being a portion of the priestly +dress used for covering the arms, and signifying the thongs with which the +hands of Christ were bound; the latter a stole worn over the left shoulder. +The head of each deacon was adorned with long waving hair, and each carried +a censer in his hand. They faced each other, keeping watch together over +the dead. A procession of priests, duly robed, began to move, preceded by +censer-bearers and singing men and boys. + +The point whence the procession started--Mala Greuzin, situated at the +extreme east end of Moscow--lay several miles away from the cemetery for +which they were all _en route;_ and this veritably ancient Asiatic city had +to be traversed at an angle in this solemn fashion, seventy or eighty +carriages following. From the beginning to the end of the prescribed route +Muscovites lined the road on either side, and it is fair to add that I +never beheld more respect shown even to royalty itself. All was quietness, +the general expression of sympathy and respect being permitted to find vent +only in excessive gesticulation and genuflection. Not a head remained +covered, not a single person by whom the procession passed permitted it to +do so without crossing himself several times from forehead to chest and +from shoulder to shoulder. + +At the first church which the procession reached, the bells of which had +begun to toll--clash rather--long before it came in sight, the entire party +halted. A bell was rung by one of those in advance, and then all waited. +The priests and their various acolytes clustered reverently by the hearse, +the followers and spectators standing at a respectful distance, but +nevertheless taking part in the service. After first incensing the hearse, +themselves and all around, further prayers were said and chanted: then a +signal was given and all moved on again, only, however, to again pause on +the route, for at every church we passed--and we must have encountered at +least thirty or forty, if not more, seeing that such sacred edifices rise +upon one's view in Moscow at wellnigh every three or four minutes' +space--the ceremony was repeated. No sooner had one set of bells ceased to +sound in our ears than another took its place, and again all halted, and +then again all marched onward. Every window as the cortege passed along was +thrown open, and figures bent forward ever and anon, enacting their wonted +part in the pageant. And the pageant, be it remembered, was, after all, +only one of frequent occurrence. + +Only the week before I had had the privilege of watching this identical old +priest baptize the child of one of the most ancient nobles here, the +ceremony being performed not in a church, but at the nobleman's house. One +godfather and one godmother are all that are required, the latter of whom +holds the infant. On the godmother also a large share of duty devolves, +there being certain gifts which she is bound by national custom to offer +for acceptance on the occasion. Often, therefore, the duty of selecting a +female sponsor becomes a somewhat invidious one. A handsome dress to the +mother, no matter in what rank of life; a delicate lace cap to the main +object of the occasion; a lace chemise for the same highly-honored small +individual; and an elaborate silk pocket handkerchief to the officiating +priest,--these, when of the best quality, and they are invariably so, mount +up somewhat as regards price, seeing that everything is marvellously dear +here in the matter of dress. The godfather, standing immediately in front +of the large font brought specially for the purpose from the adjacent +church, and at the right hand of his fellow-sponsor, simply presents a +small golden cross, to be worn, it is supposed, ever afterward. Immediately +behind the font, and facing the entire audience--for a large circle of +friends had been invited to witness the ceremony--was placed the "holy +picture" of the household, without which in Russia no homestead, whether +belonging to rich or poor, is considered complete, and before which a +lighted oil lamp ever stands burning--a "picture of God," as the Russian +children are taught from their earliest years to call it. Before this the +priests bowed on entering. + +The mode of baptism was immersion, after several exorcisms had been read +and the priest had thrice blown in the infant's face, signing him, also +thrice, on the forehead and breast. Three tall lighted candles were affixed +to the font, and others were held by the god-parents, except when they +marched round the font in procession three times during "the chrism," when +the candles were laid down. The chrism consists in anointing the infant's +forehead, breast, shoulders and middle of the back with holy oil, after +which comes the service, when the forehead, eyes, nostrils, mouth, ears, +breast, hands and feet are again anointed, but this time with the holy +unction prepared once a year, on Monday in Holy Week, within the walls of +the Kremlin, and consecrated by the metropolitan in the cathedral of the +Annunciation on Holy Thursday. Then comes the concluding act, when the +priest cuts off a small portion of the child's hair in four different +places on the crown of the head, encloses it in a morsel of wax and throws +it into the font, as a sort of first-fruits of that which has been +consecrated. + +S.E. + + +A DAY AT THE PARIS CONSERVATOIRE. + +It was ten o'clock in the morning when we drove up to the door of the +world-famous institution, but, early as it was, an animated throng already +filled the wide marble-paved entrance-hall--former pupils in elegant +attire; girl aspirants for future honors, accompanied by the inevitable +mamma with the invariable little hand-bag; young men and old; celebrated +dramatists and well-known actors, visitors, critics, etc.--all passing to +and fro or engaged in conversation while awaiting the hour for taking their +seats. Passing through these, we ascend a narrow staircase that gives one +good hopes of a martyr's death should the theatre chance to catch fire, and +we instal ourselves in a narrow and by no means comfortable box in the +dress-circle. The theatre of the Conservatoire, though not very large, is +very elegantly and artistically decorated in the Pompeian style, the stage +being set with a single "box scene," as it is technically called, which is +never changed, as plays are never acted there. Here take place the +far-famed concerts du Conservatoire, for which tickets are as hard to +obtain as are invitations to the entertainments of a duchess, all the seats +being owned by private individuals. But what we are now here to witness is +the competition in dramatic declamation, tragic and comic. The jury occupy +a box in the centre of the dress-circle and opposite to the stage. This +terrifying tribunal is enough to try the nerves of the stoutest aspirant +for dramatic honors, comprising as it does among its members such powers in +the land as Legouve, Camilla-Doucet, Alexandre Dumas, the directors of the +Comedie Francaise and the Odeon, and the great actors Got and Delaunay. An +elderly gentleman comes forward on the stage and reads from a printed paper +the name of each competitor and those of his or her assistants, and that of +the play from which the scene that is to be represented is chosen. Each +pupil selects a scene, and the persons who in French technical parlance are +to "give the reply" (_i.e._ to take the other characters in the scene) are +chosen from among the ranks of the pupil's fellow-competitors. Lots are +drawn to decide the place that each one is to occupy on the programme, the +first place and the last being considered the least desirable. Printed +bills are distributed among the audience giving a list of the competitors, +with the names of the plays from which they have chosen scenes, and +(horrible innovation for the lady pupils!) the age of each one as well. + +The competition is opened by M. Levanz, a young man of thirty, who took a +second prize last year, and who has chosen the closet-scene from _Hamlet_ +(the translation of the elder Dumas) as his _cheval de bataille_. He has a +marked Germanic countenance, decidedly the reverse of handsome, yet mobile +and expressive: his voice is good, his figure tall and manly. He has +evidently seen Rossi in Hamlet, and models his conception of the character +on that grand impersonation. Next comes M. Bregaint in a scene from +_Andromaque:_ he is so bad, so _very_ bad, that the audience are moved to +sudden outbursts of hilarity by his grand tragic points. He is succeeded by +a boy of sixteen, tall and graceful, with a fine tragic face of the heroic +Kemble mould, and great blue-gray eyes that dilate or contract beneath the +impulses of the moment--a born actor from head to foot. He fairly thrills +the audience in the great scene of the duke de Nemours from _Louis XI_. +This youth, M. Guitry, is undoubtedly, if his life be spared, the coming +tragedian of the French stage. Then we have the first one of the lady +competitors, Mademoiselle Edet, a tall, awkward girl of eighteen, with a +flat face and Chinese-like features, dressed up in a gown of cream-yellow +foulard trimmed with wide fringe and made with a loose jacket, whereon the +fringes wave wildly in the air as she flings her arms around in the tragic +love-making of Phedre. Two or three others of moderate merit succeed, and +then comes Mademoiselle Jullien, who gives the great scene of Roxane in +_Bajazet_ with so much intelligence of intonation and grace of gesture that +the audience are moved to sudden applause. She is rather too short and of +too delicate a physique for tragedy, but her face is expressive, her eyes +fine, and there are intellect and talent in every tone and movement. She is +nearly twenty-nine years of age, so has not much time to waste if she is to +make her mark in her profession. Last on the list of tragic aspirants comes +a gentleman of thirty-one, M. Aubert, who goes through a scene from +_Hamlet_ in a very tolerable manner. He was in the army, was doing well and +was rising in grade when, seized by the theatrical mania, he relinquished +his profession and turned his attention to the stage. Thus far, he has +proved, practically speaking, a failure: he has won no prizes, and no +manager will engage him. This is his last chance, as his age will prevent +him, by the rules of the Conservatoire, from taking part in any future +competition. + +The tragedy concours ended, a recess of an hour is proclaimed, and there is +a rush to the refreshment-tables and a great consumption of sandwiches and +cakes, of coffee and water (known as "mazagran") and of _vin ordinaire_. +Under that vestibule pass and repass the literary luminaries of modern +France. Here is Henri de Bornier, the author of _La Fille de Roland_, a +quiet, earnest-looking gentleman, with clear luminous eyes and the smallest +hands imaginable. Here comes Francisque Sarcey, the greatest dramatic +critic of France and one of the most noted of her Republican journalists, +broad-shouldered, black-eyed and stalwart-looking. Yonder stand a group of +Academicians--Legouve, Doucet, Dumas--in earnest conversation with Edouard +Thierry, the librarian of the Arsenal. The handsome, delicate, +aristocratic-looking gentleman who joins the group is M. Perrin, the +director of the Comedie Francaise, the most accomplished and intelligent +theatrical manager in France. There is an elderly, reserved-looking +gentleman beside him who looks like a solemn _savant_ out on a holiday. It +takes more than one glance for us to recognize in him the most accomplished +light comedian of our day, that embodiment of grace, vivacity, sparkling +wit and unfading youth, who is known to the boards of the Comedie Francaise +by the name of Delaunay. There are other minor luminaries, too numerous to +mention. + +We go up stairs and resume our seats, and the competition of comedy is +begun. Scene succeeds to scene and competitor to competitor: the day wears +on, and flitting clouds from time to time obscure the dome, bringing out +the glare of the footlights that have been burning all day in a singularly +effective manner. Of the nineteen competitors, the deepest impression is +made by M. Barral, who plays a scene from _L'Avare_ magnificently; by +Mademoiselle Carriere, who reveals herself as a sparkling and intelligent +soubrette; and by Mademoiselle Sisos, a genuine _comedienne_, only sixteen +years of age and as pretty as a peach. It is six o'clock when the last +competitor has said his say, and then the jury retire to deliberate +respecting the awards. What a flutter there must be among the young things +whose future destiny is now swaying in the balance, for success means +fortune, and failure a disheartening postponement, and to the elder ones +downright and disastrous ruin of all their hopes! Half an hour passes, and +then, after what seems a weary period of suspense, the box-door is thrown +open and the jury resume their seats. Ambroise Thomas, the president of the +Conservatoire, strikes his bell and a dead silence ensues. In a full +sonorous voice he begins: "Concours of tragedy, men's class. No +prizes.--Usher, summon M. Guitry." The gifted boy comes forward to the +footlights. "M. Guitry, the jury have awarded to you a _premier accessit_." +He bows and retires amid the hearty applause of the audience. "Women's +class.--Usher, call Mademoiselle Jullien." She comes out pale and agitated, +the slight form quivering like a wind-swept flower in her robes of creamy +cashmere. Is it the Odeon that awaits her--the second prize? for in her +modesty she had only hoped for a _premier accessit._ "Mademoiselle Jullien, +the jury have awarded to you the first prize." The first prize! Those words +mean to her an assured career, a brilliant future, the doors of the Comedie +Francaise flung wide open to receive her. She falters, trembles, bows +profoundly, and goes off in a very passion of hysterical weeping. Then come +the comedy awards. M. Barral gets a first prize, as is his just due, as +does also Mademoiselle Carriere. "Usher, call Mademoiselle Sisos." She +comes forward, her great brown eyes dilated with excitement, her cheeks +burning like two red roses, a mass of faded white roses clinging amid the +rumpled gold of her hair--a very bewitching picture of childish grace and +beauty. "Mademoiselle Sisos, the jury have awarded to you a second prize." +She laughs and blushes, and brings her hands together with a childlike +gesture of delight. "Oh, merci!" she cries, and drops a courtesy, and then +away she goes--happy little creature, thus consecrated artiste at sixteen! +The other awards are given, the jury leave their box, and the audience +disperse. The friends of the competitors crowd around the stage-door, and +each of the successful ones is seized by the hand and congratulated and +embraced, the youthful Guitry being especially surrounded. Two or three +more years of study will land this gifted boy on the boards of the Comedie +Francaise. The queen of the day, Mademoiselle Jullien, has stolen away +overcome by excess of emotion, which, though joyful, is still exhausting to +her delicate frame. Finally, everybody retires, the doors are closed, and +the long, exciting _seance_ has come to an end at last. + +L.H.H. + + +BRIGHAM YOUNG AND MORMONISM. + +Brigham Young's career is a valuable commentary on that of Mohammed, and +will hereafter be a standard citation with explorers of the natural history +of religions. It might be more proper to go back of Young, and adhere to +Joe Smith as the figure-head of the Mormon dispensation. How Smith would +have turned out had he lived, and whether he would have made as much of +Utah as the man upon whose shoulders his mantle fell, is not easy to say; +but his was a less robust character, the enthusiast in him too far +obscuring the organizer and commander. The Church is the thing to look at, +rather than its leaders, when we consider duration--the soil rather than +the plough. Why has Mohammed's creation lasted longer and spread wider than +that of Charlemagne or Tamerlane? And is Smith's to have the like fortune, +or to die out like those of Muenster and Joanna Southcote? + +The Mormon "revelation" has been before the world more than forty years. In +twenty-two years from his first vision Mohammed had reduced all Arabia +under his religious and political sway. Young's dominions have not expanded +territorially. His faith cannot be said to exist outside of Utah. His +converts are compelled to go thither for the exercise of their religion. +Salt Lake City is not a Mecca, the goal of a passing pilgrimage, but the +one and only possible abiding-place of those who profess its creed. A +system thus localized is in danger of being stifled. Especially is this the +case when its seat is exposed to invasion by a swelling current of +non-sympathizers or open enemies. These may be repelled or prevented from +improving their foothold by the firmness, unity and numerical predominance +of the invaded. So it has happened at Salt Lake. The Mormons hold all the +serviceable soil, and it is difficult for the "Gentiles" to effect a +lodgment. Until they do, they must occupy, even in their own eyes, somewhat +the position of adventurers. They cannot hope to secure the respect of the +industrious sectaries who own and till the soil, and who are taught to +count them aliens and persecutors. Irrigation is here the only means of +successful agriculture. It involves great outlay of capital and labor, and +creates great fixedness of tenure. Newcomers are thus additionally +discouraged. + +Thus entrenched in a well-provisioned citadel, welcoming all the new levies +it can win, and amply able to provide for them, Mormonism bids fair to +make a prolonged stand. To emerge from a defensive position and strike for +unlimited sway is what it cannot, to judge by all precedents, expect. It +will be compelled, in fact, to lighten itself of some dead weights in order +to maintain its actual situation. Polygamy must go, and the absolute power +of the priesthood be modified. With some such adaptations it may continue a +reality for generations to come. And time is a great sanctifier. A creed +that lives for one or two centuries is by so much the more likely to live +longer. Youth is the critical period with religions, as with animals and +plants and nations. Through that period Mormonism is passing with +flattering success. That such a lusty juvenile will, by favor of the +mellowing effect imposed on all creeds by early years of toil, trouble and +experience, reach a middle age of presentable decency, is not a more +unlikely supposition than the worthy Vermont clergyman would have +pronounced, half a century ago, the idea that his _jeu d'esprit_ would +become the Bible of sixty thousand industrious, well-ordered +English-speaking people in the heart of the American continent. + +E.C.B. + + +THE EDUCATION OF WOMEN IN INDIA. + +According to a report sent to our Commissioner of Education at Washington +four years ago, there were then in India one thousand girls' schools +supported by the government and some five hundred missionary schools +devoted to female education. Besides these, there has sprung up during the +last few years a new field for the women-educators in that country. This is +the teaching of women in their homes. It is called _zenana-work._ The +_zenana_ is the women's apartment in the house--the _harem_ of the Turks. +Women have been sent from England and from America for this special object, +and their labors are meeting with encouraging success. They are constantly +gaining admission to new families, which from caste or other causes are +opposed to sending their young women to the regular schools. Some of the +zenana-teachers are regularly-educated physicians. + +For the government schools each province has a director of public +instruction, with inspectors of divisions and subdivisions. These directors +are "gentlemen of high qualification and well paid." It is a notable fact +that in one of the provinces the office of director is filled by a +Christian woman--a foreigner no doubt, though the report does not say. + +At Dehra, at the foot of the Himalaya Mountains, there is a high school for +girls organized on the plan of the Mount Holyoke Seminary. Here English is +spoken, and the pupils are carried through a course of training that may +justly be termed _high_. One of the pupils of this school has lately been +appointed by the government to go to England and qualify herself as a +physician, under a contract to return and serve the government by taking +charge of a hospital and college for training young women as midwives and +nurses. + +Of course, in a country containing a population of over one hundred and +fifty-one millions, one thousand public schools for girls, supplemented as +these are by missionary schools of many denominations, are inadequate to +meet the needs of the people. There is an increasing demand in all the +provinces for schools and colleges; and the native young men especially are +eagerly seeking the educational advantages of the colleges and +universities, because they know that these are a sure road to preferment. +"The government takes care to give employment to those who wish it." + +The difficulties in the way of female education in India are well expressed +in a late letter from one of the most distinguished native reformers, Baboo +Keshub Chunder Sen of Calcutta. "No words of mine," he says, "would convey +to you an adequate idea of the great obstacles which the social and +religious condition of the Hindoo community presents in the way of female +education and advancement. In a country where superstition and caste +prejudices prevail to an alarming extent, where widows are cruelly +persecuted and prevented from remarrying, where high-caste Hindoos are +allowed to marry as many wives as they like without undertaking the +responsibility of protecting them, and where little girls marry at a most +tender age and sacrifice all prospects of healthy physical and mental +development, it will take centuries before any solid and extensive reform +is achieved." + +Until recently, scarcely one woman in ten thousand learned to read or +acquired any of the accomplishments common to women of Christian countries. +Occasionally, women of vicious lives in cities, having leisure, became +quite learned, and this made learning a shame for women of irreproachable +reputation. Moreover, Hindoo husbands declared, and believed, that if you +taught a woman to read she would be sure in time to have illicit relations +with some one. Ignorance was innocence, the safeguard of both rank and +chastity. + +The missionaries, who were the first to attempt the amelioration of the +people, had to commence with the lowest castes or classes, those having +nothing to lose; and even then the teachers had to pay the girls a small +copper coin daily for attending school. Even the government schools in some +places pay the girls for attending, but they are much more popular than the +missionary schools, because, according to the Rev. Joseph Warren in the +report mentioned, the parents are not afraid that their girls will become +Christians by attending them; and he adds that the government teachers and +books are "all positively heathen or quite destitute of all religion." In +some parts of the country the government schools secure the attendance of +high-caste girls by allowing them to be placed behind a curtain, and thus +screened from the eyes of the male teacher or inspector, as all the women +of such classes are screened from male visitors. Even the physician sees +only a hand protruded from under a curtain, and by the touch of this, with +a few unsatisfactory answers to his questions, he is supposed to be able to +know what the malady is, and how to prescribe for it. + +M.H. + + + + +LITERATURE OF THE DAY. + + +Birds and Poets: with other Papers. By John Burroughs. New York: Hurd & +Houghton. + +A duodecimo that discourses on equal terms of Emerson and the chickadee, +and unites Carlyle and the author's cow with a cement or filling-in +indescribable in variety and in the comminution of materials, need not be +held to strict account in the matter of neatness or accuracy of title. The +closing article, headed "The Flight of the Eagle," is the most remarkable +of the collection. Who would suspect, under such a heading, an elaborate +eulogy of Walt Whitman? The writer is obviously more at home among the +song-birds than among the Raptores, unless he be the discoverer of some new +species of eagle characterized by traits very unlike those of other members +of the genus. It were to be wished that he had left out the disquisition on +Whitman, for it is a jarring chord in his little orchestra of lyric and +ornithologic song. He might have kept it by him till the longer growing of +his critical beard, and then, if still a devotee at that singular shrine, +have expanded it into a volume or two explanatory of the imagination, +animus and metre of his favorite bard. + +The feathered warblers have always been popular with the featherless, who +are indebted to them for no end of similes and suggestions. What would +poetry be without the skylark, the nightingale, the dove and the eagle? It +is far yet from having exhausted them. It cannot be said to have approached +them in the right way--on the most eloquent and interesting side. It +forgets that each species of bird stands by itself, and has its special +life and history as truly as man. We counted thirty-nine kinds in a grove +the centre whereof was our delightful abode for two-thirds of the past +summer, each endowed with its separate outfit of language, ways and means +of living, tastes and political and social notions. In each, moreover, +individualism showed itself--if not to our apprehension as articulately, +yet as indubitably, as among the race which considers them to have been all +created for its amusement and advantage. It does not take long, superficial +as is our acquaintance with their vernacular and the workings of their +little brains, to single out particular specimens, and perceive that no two +"birds of a feather" are exactly alike. A particular robin will rule the +roost, and assert successfully for his mate the choice of resting-places +above competing redbreasts. It is a particular catbird, identified, it may +be, by a missing feather in his tail, that heads the foray on our +strawberries and cherries. We recognize afar off either of the pair of +"flickers," or yellow-shafted woodpeckers, which have set up their penates +in the heart of the left-hand garden gatepost. The wren whose modest +tabernacle occupies the top of the porch pilaster we have little difficulty +in "spotting" when we meet her in a joint stroll along the lawn-fence. Her +ways are not as the ways of other wrens. She has a somewhat different style +of diving into the ivy and exploring the syringa. A new generation of doves +has grown up since the lilacs were in bloom, and nothing is easier than to +distinguish the old and young of the two or three separate families till +all leave the grass and the gravel together and hie to the stubble-fields +beyond our ken. Of the one mocking bird who made night hideous by his +masterly imitations of the screaking of a wheel-barrow (regreased at an +early period in self-defence) and the wheezy bark of Beppo, the +superannuated St. Bernard, there could of course be no doubt. There was +none of his kind to compare him with--not even a mate, for "sexual +selection" could not possibly operate in face of so inharmonious a +love-song. His isolation had its parallel in the one white guinea-fowl that +haunted the shrubbery like a ghost, much more silent and placid than it +would have been in society, and its antitype in the hennery, where +individuality of course ran riot among the Brahmas, Dominicas and +Hamburgs--hens that would and would not lay, that would and would not set, +that would and would not scratch up seeds, and presented generally as great +a variety of vagaries as of feathers. So, when we turned our back at last +on lovely Boscobel, itself shut out, as the common phrase goes, "from the +world" by serried ramparts of maple, elm, acacia and catalpa, we knew well +that that enceinte of leafage enclosed many little worlds of its +own--winged microcosms, epicycles of the grand cycle of dateless life which +man in his humility assumes to be merely a subsidiary appendage of his own +orbit. + +Birds should be studied seriously. The naturalists will tell us more about +them, and interest us more, than the poets. Mr. Bryant makes fun of the +bobolink, and turns into an aimless whistle the solemn oration on domestic +matters uttered by that small but energetic American to his mate. The +waterfowl he treats more gravely and respectfully, but he still makes it +only a part of the landscape and the theme, without ascribing any +intelligent purpose to its flight. The bird, proceeding steadily and calmly +to its business, may well have confounded its versifier with his fellow the +fowler, and looked upon him, too, as regretting only that it was out of +gunshot. Audubon or Wilson would have noted more sensibly the floating +figure, far above "falling dew," and the earth-bound mortal who was +evidently afraid of rheumatics and calculating whether he could walk home +before dark. The bird, they would have been perfectly aware, was neither +"wandering" nor "lost," and no more in need of the special interposition of +a protecting Providence than they or Mr. Bryant. They would infer its +motives, its point of departure and its destination, the character of the +friends it left behind or sought--whether it was carrying out a plan of +the day or bound on an expedition covering half the year. Its species would +have been plain to them at half a glance, and its scientific name would +have replaced the vague designation of "waterfowl." Its life, habits and +habitat winter and summer, would have unrolled before them, and the +dogs-eared and rain-stained note-book sprung open for a new entry. The +poet, on the other hand, got happily home without injury to his health (for +he is still hale half a century after the fact), lit the gas, nibbed the +quill pen of the day, and sent down to us what must be confessed a +pleasanter memorandum than we should have had from the forest-students. +These, brave and ardent fellows! have long been asleep beneath the birds. + +Mr. Burroughs is half poet, half naturalist in his way of looking at +Nature, and steers clear of the poetic vagueness in regard to species. A +passing description of the brown thrush as "skulking" among the bushes hits +that bird to the life. Some remarks on page 119 would seem to be applied by +a slip of the pen to the crow blackbird, instead of the cowbird, which has +always enjoyed the distinction of being the only American species that +disposes of its offspring after the fashion of the cuckoo and Jean Jacques +Rousseau. The chapter on Emerson contains some acute remarks, but the +warmest tribute to Emerson is the book itself, in which that writer's +influence is everywhere patent both in style and thought. Mr. Burroughs has +a happy facility of expression, and could well afford by this time to +discard the Emersonian props and stand on his own merits. + + +The Life of Edgar Allan Poe. By W.F. Gill. Illustrated. New York: +Dillingham. + +Griswold's memoir of Poe has been actually beneficial to the reputation of +its subject, contrary to its obvious design. It has caused a thorough +sifting of all accessible records of the poet's short and dreary life, and +elicited many reminiscences from men of mark who were in one way or another +personally associated with him. We know now, more certainly than we might +have done but for Griswold's effort to prove the opposite, that Poe was not +expelled in disgrace from the University of Virginia, but bore himself well +there as a student and a man; that he deliberately went to work and +procured his being dropped from the rolls of West Point by building up with +venial faults the requisite sum of "demerits," after having repeatedly and +in vain sought permission to withdraw from the control of a system of +discipline so unsuited to his temperament; that, so far from being +intemperate, a single glass of wine sufficed to bring on something like +insanity; that, instead of neglecting his family, he devoted himself to +them with a very rare exclusiveness, and wore down his health by watching +at the bedside of his sick wife; that he was as faithful to his business as +to his domestic obligations; and that, wholly disqualified for battling +with the world, he managed to keep his necessarily troubled life at least +unstained. We know, moreover, that he did not appoint Griswold his +literary executor, and that the document used by the latter as a means of +deriving from that assumed office an opportunity of vindictive defamation +was drawn up after the poet's death by Griswold himself. To the controversy +thus excited we are indebted for the illumination of one or two poems +relinquished by the critics as hopelessly, if not intentionally, obscure. +_Ulalume_, for example, held by some to be a mere experiment on the +jingling capacity of words and the taste of readers for grappling with +insoluble puzzles, is pronounced by one familiar with his most intimate +feelings at the time of its composition a sublimated but distinct reflex of +them and of the circumstances which gave them color. + +Could Poe's pen have cleared itself from the morbid influences which fixed +it in a peculiar path, we might have missed some of his finest and most +subtle poems and some prose efforts which we could better spare. But his +wonderful powers of analysis would have been serviceable upon a broader and +more practical field. He had an insight into the laws of language and of +rhythm equalled by no one else in our day. What is most mysterious in the +forms and relations of matter had a special charm for him. None could trace +it more acutely; and his powers, matured by more and healthier years and +applied in their favorite direction, were quite equal to results like those +attained by his predecessor Goethe, the savant of poets. He died a few +years older than Burns and Byron, but more of a boy than either. The man +Poe we never saw. The best of him was to come, and it never came. Poe had, +however, what he is not always credited with--the sincerity and earnestness +of maturity. He was anything but a mere propounder of riddles. Had he lived +to our day, his office would have been to aid science, so wonderfully +advanced in the intervening third of a century, in solving some of its own. +And in addition to that possible work we should have been none the poorer +in the treasures of poetry he actually gave us. + + +Olivia Raleigh. By W.W. Follett Synge. Philadelphia: J.B. Lippincott & Co. + +In the few choice words of introduction to the American reprint Mrs. Annis +Lee Wister admirably characterizes this charming novel. It is indeed like a +"clear, pure breath of English air:" from the first page to the last it is +redolent of the health of an "incense-breathing morn." There are no dark +scenes here, leaving on the reader a feeling of degradation that such +things can be--no impossible villain weaving a web of intricate or +purposeless villainy--but all is fresh and genuine, and we close the volume +with a sense of gratitude that such a story is possible. + +Even if this be not in itself a recommendation sufficient to enlist the +interest of novel-readers, _Olivia Raleigh_ is something more: it is a work +of art: there is in it nothing crude or hasty or ill-digested. Around the +four or five prominent characters all the interest centres, and the +attention is not distracted by any wearisome episodes that have nothing to +do with the main story. The characters are admirably thought out, and +reveal themselves more by their actions than by any microscopical analysis +of motives. They pass before us like veritable human beings, and what they +are we learn from what they do. The transformation of one of the characters +from a gay, debonnair bachelor past middle age into a penurious miser of +the Blueberry-Jones type is bold, and in less skilful hands would be a +blemish, but Mr. Synge has amply justified it, and admirably uses it to +cement the structure of his plot. There is no weakness in any chapter, and +as we read so secure do we feel in the author's strength that, had he +chosen to end the story in sorrow and not in joy, we should submit as +though to an inflexible decree of Fate. + + +Les Koumiassine. Par Henry Greville. Paris: Plon. + +It is always interesting to watch the course of French fiction, because +while the novel is in all countries at the present time the favorite form +of expression of those writers who eschew scientific work on the one side +and stand aloof from poetry on the other, in France, which is noticeably +the country where theories are put into practice as well as invented, all +sorts of literary methods have their clever defenders, who furnish examples +of what they preach. Since Balzac and George Sand died, the post of leading +novelist has been vacant, although there has been no lack of writers of the +second or third, and especially of still lower, rank. Octave Feuillet still +produces occasionally a clever piece of workmanship; Cherbuliez at +intervals writes a novel which proves how lamentable a thing is the +possession of brilliancy alone apart from the seriousness of character, or +of some sides of character, which must exist alongside of even high +intellectual qualities in order that the man may make a lasting impression +on his time. Great gifts frittered away on meaningless trifles are as +disappointing as possible, and are the more disappointing in proportion to +the greatness of the gifts; so that the decadence of Cherbuliez--or, if +this is too severe, his lack of improvement after his brilliant +beginning--is a very melancholy thing. Zola is among the younger men, the +head of a number of enthusiasts who revel in the exact study of social +ordure, and who threaten to destroy fiction by ridding it of what makes its +life--imagination, that is--and substituting for it scientific fact. +Theuriet is an amiable but by no means a powerful writer, who so far has +contented himself with following different models without striking out any +special path of his own. + +Henry Greville is a new author, who has reached by no means the highest, +yet a very respectable, place--such as would be a source of gratification +to most people. The name signed to her novels is the _nom-de-plume_ of a +lady who, as is also apparent from her work, has lived long enough in +Russia to become familiar with the people and their ways. _Les Koumiassine_ +is a story of Russian life, treating of a rich family whose name gives the +title to the novel. The family is one of great wealth, and consists of the +Count Koumiassine and his wife, their two children--one a boy of nine or +ten, the other a girl half a dozen years older--and a niece of about +seventeen. The plot concerns itself with the efforts of the countess to +give her niece, whom she values much less than her daughter, a suitable +husband. The poor girl is bullied and badgered after the most approved +methods of domestic tyranny, and her high-spirited struggle against adverse +circumstances makes the book as readable as one could wish. After all, the +family is a microcosm, and furnishes frequent opportunity for the practice +of good or bad qualities; and the cleverest novel-writers have chosen just +this subject which seems so bald to the romantic writer. The contest in +this case is a long one, and is hotly contested, and the imperiousness of +the countess and the graceful courage of the girl are excellently well +described. The other characters too are clearly put before the reader, so +that those who exercise care in their choice of French novels may take up +this one with the certainty that they will be entertained, and, what is +rarer, innocently entertained. For in a large pile of French novels it +would be hard to find so pretty a story so well told as is the intimacy +between the two young girls, the cousins, who in their different ways +circumvent Fate in the person of the countess. Their amiability and jollity +and loyalty to each other give the book an air of attractive truthfulness +and refinement which well replaces the priggishness generally to be found +in innocuous French fiction. More than this, the plot is intelligently +handled, and no person is introduced who is not carefully studied. In this +respect of careful execution the author resembles Tourgueneff, whose friend +and disciple she is. Like him, and like those who have been affected by his +influence, she gives attention to the minor characters and comparatively +insignificant incidents, so that the book makes a really lifelike +impression. This is not a story of great passion, but it deals very +cleverly with the less open waters of domestic strife. While what it shows +of human nature in general is the most important thing, what is shown of +Russian life is of great interest. The position of the countess, and the +habit of her mind with its over-bearing self-will and ingenious +self-approval, are studies possible, of course, anywhere, but pretty sure +to be found especially in a land like Russia, where the habit of command +was until recently so strongly fostered by the existence of serfdom. The +condition of those who are exposed to this aggressive imperiousness is +clearly illustrated in the numerous dependants who make their appearance in +this story. But it is the countess who is the best drawn and most +impressive personage. She is really lifelike, and yet not a commonplace +figure. + + + + +_Books Received_. + +Disease of the Mind: Notes on the Early Management, European and American +Progress, Modern Methods, etc., in the Treatment of Insanity, with especial +reference to the needs of Massachusetts and the United States. By Charles +F. Folsom, M.D. Boston: A. Williams & Co. + +Cicero's Tusculan Disputations; also Treatises on The Nature of the Gods, +and on The Commonwealth. Literally translated by C.D. Yonge. New York: +Harper & Brothers. + +Shakespeare: The Man and the Book. Being a collection of Occasional Papers +on the Bard and his Writings. Part I. By C.M. Ingleby, M.A. London: Truebner +& Co. + +Shakespeare's Comedy of a Midsummer Night's Dream. Edited with Notes by +William J. Rolfe, A.M. New York: Harper & Brothers. + +Four Irrepressibles; or, The Tribe of Benjamin: Their Summer with Aunt +Agnes, what they Did, and what they Undid. Boston: Loring. + +The Magnetism of Iron Vessels, with a Short Treatise on Terrestrial +Magnetism. By Fairman Rogers. New York: D. Van Nostrand. + +Virgin Soil. By Ivan Tourgueneff. From the French by T.S. Perry. +(Leisure-Hour Series.) New York: Henry Holt & Co. + +Personal Appearance and the Culture of Beauty. By T.S. Sozinsky, M.D., +Ph.D. Philadelphia: Allen, Lane & Scott. + +An English Commentary on the Tragedies of Euripides. By Charles Anthon, +LL.D. New York: Harper & Brothers. + +Strength of Men and Stability of Nations. By P.A. Chadbourne, D.D., LL.D. +New York: G.P. Putnam's Sons. + +Eighth Annual Report of the State Board of Health of Massachusetts. Boston: +Albert J. Wright. State Printer. + +The Antelope and Deer of America. By John Dean Caton, LL.D. New York: Hurd +& Houghton. + +G.T.T.; or, The Wonderful Adventures of a Pullman. By Edward E. Hale. +Boston: Roberts Brothers. + +Until the Day Break. By Mrs. J.M.D. Bartlett ("Birch Arnold"). +Philadelphia: Porter & Coates. + +Other People's Children. By the author of "Helen's Babies." New York: G.P. +Putnam's Sons. + +Poet and Merchant. By B. Auerbach. (Leisure-Hour Series.) New York: Henry +Holt & Co. + +Mental Education. By J. Edward Cranage, M.A., Ph.D. London: Bemrose & Sons. + +Beautiful Edith, the Child-Woman. (Loring's Tales of the Day.) Boston: +Loring. + +Aliunde; or, Love Ventures of Tom, Dick and Harry. New York: Charles P. +Somerby. + +Ideals made Real: A Romance. By George L. Raymond. New York: Hurd & +Houghton. + +Lola. By A. Griffiths. (Leisure-Hour Series.) New York: Henry Holt & Co. + +Kilmeny: A Novel. By William Black. New York: Harper & Brothers. + +Winstowe: A Novel. By Mrs. Leith-Adams. New York: Harper & Brothers. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Lippincott's Magazine of Popular +Literature and Science, October, 1877, Vol. XX. No. 118, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIPPINCOTT'S MAGAZINE *** + +***** This file should be named 16361.txt or 16361.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/3/6/16361/ + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Christine D and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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