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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Strand Magazine, Volume V, Issue 30,
+June 1893, 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: The Strand Magazine, Volume V, Issue 30, June 1893
+       An Illustrated Monthly
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: George Newnes
+
+Release Date: January 7, 2008 [EBook #24188]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STRAND MAGAZINE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Victorian/Edwardian Pictorial Magazines,
+Jonathan Ingram, Josephine Paolucci and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE STRAND
+
+AN ILLUSTRATED MONTHLY
+
+
+Vol. 5, Issue. 30.
+
+June 1893
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: "THE HEAD BOOK-KEEPER STEPPED OUT OF THE SAFE."
+
+(_Pierre and Baptiste._)]
+
+
+
+
+Pierre and Baptiste
+
+BY BECKLES WILLSON.
+
+
+I once knew two industrious mechanics named Pierre and Baptiste. They
+dwelt in a ramshackle tenement at Sault aux Beloeuil, where each had
+half-a-dozen children to support, besides their wives; who, it is
+grievous to relate, were drones. They were only nominally acquainted
+with that godly art commonly associated with charwomen.
+
+Pierre and Baptiste were hard workers. They worked far into the night
+and, occasionally, the thin mists of dawn had begun to break on the
+narrow city pavements before their labours would cease. No one could
+truthfully say that theirs was not a hard-earned pillow. Sometimes they
+did not toil in vain. It depended largely upon the police.
+
+It was early one November that this horny-handed pair planned the
+burglary of a certain safe located in a wholesale establishment in St.
+Mark Street. On the particular evening that Pierre and Baptiste hit upon
+for the deed, the head book-keeper had been having a wrangle with his
+accounts.
+
+"I can't make head or tail of this!" he declared to his employer, the
+senior member of the firm, "yet I am convinced everything must be right.
+An error of several hundred dollars has been carried over from each
+daily footing, but where the error begins or ends, I'm blessed if I can
+find out."
+
+[Illustration: "THE HEAD BOOK-KEEPER HAD BEEN HAVING A WRANGLE WITH HIS
+ACCOUNTS."]
+
+The fact was that the monthly sales had been unusually heavy, and a page
+of the balance had been mislaid. The head book-keeper spent upwards of
+an hour in casting up both the entries of himself and his subordinates
+after the establishment had closed its doors for the day.
+
+Then he went home to supper, determined to return and locate the
+deficit, if he didn't get a wink of sleep until morning.
+
+Book-keepers, it must be borne in mind, have highly sensitive organisms,
+which are susceptible to the smallest atom reflecting upon their probity
+or skill. At half-past eight the book-keeper returned and commenced anew
+his critical calculations. He worked precisely three hours and a half;
+at the end of which period he suddenly clapped his hand to his forehead
+and exclaimed:--
+
+"Idiot! Why haven't you looked in the safe for a missing sheet? Ten
+chances to one they have been improperly numbered!"
+
+He turned over the pages of the balance on his desk, and, sure enough,
+the usual numerical mark or designation in the upper left-hand corner
+which should follow eleven was missing. Page twelve, in all likelihood,
+had slipped into some remote corner of the safe.
+
+The safe was a large one, partially receding into the wall and
+containing all the papers, documents, and several day receipts in cash
+and drafts of the firm.
+
+The head book-keeper, in his efforts at unearthing the lost page of the
+cash balance, was obliged to intrude his entire person into the safe.
+Fearful lest the candle he held should attract attention from the
+street, showing out as it did against the black recesses of the safe,
+upon entering he drew the door slightly ajar.
+
+As he stepped in the tail of his coat caught on an angle of the huge
+riveted lock; the massive gate swung to as if it weighed no more than a
+pound, and the book-keeper was a prisoner.
+
+He heard a resonant click--that was all. His candle went out.
+
+The book-keeper at the outset lost his presence of mind. He fought like
+a caged animal. He first exerted almost superhuman strength against the
+four sides of the iron tomb. Then his body collapsed and, not for an
+instant losing consciousness, he found himself sitting in a partially
+upright posture, unable to so much as stir a muscle.
+
+It was almost at the same moment, although hours seemed to have passed,
+that the drum of his ear, now abnormally sensitive, was almost split
+into fragments. A frightful monotonous clangour rent the interior of the
+safe.
+
+[Illustration: "HE STEPPED IN."]
+
+The book-keeper used to observe afterwards that a single second's
+deviation of characteristic thought and he would have gone mad. Stronger
+minds in a parallel situation would have indeed collapsed. But a weaker
+man can never confront the inevitable, but clings more stubbornly to
+hope. They are only weak individualities who, in the act of drowning,
+catch at straws.
+
+As the book-keeper felt himself gradually growing faint for want of air
+to breathe, his revivified hope led him to deliberately crash his fist
+into the woodwork with which the interior of the safe was fitted, in
+secretaire fashion, one drawer being built above another. This gave him
+a few additional cubic feet of air.
+
+As may have been conjectured, the noise which smote the book-keeper's
+ear was that of a drill. Although acutely discerned within, the sound
+was practically smothered on the outside of the vault.
+
+At one end of the drill was a cavity, rapidly growing larger, in one of
+the steel panels. At its other end was a heavy, warty fist, part of the
+anatomy of Baptiste, the industrious mechanic. Baptiste held the drill
+while his comrade, Pierre, pounded it in.
+
+Soon the two burglars became aware that some sort of animal commotion
+was going on within the safe. It nearly drove them into convulsions of
+astonishment. Baptiste was so startled that he dropped the drill.
+
+"It is a ghost," he said.
+
+Baptiste was for throwing up the job uncompromisingly on the spot, but
+this proposal met with obstacles. His fellow workman, who was of stiffer
+courage, rejected it with scorn, as savouring too much of the
+superstitious. Pierre had a large family to support, he argued. He spoke
+frankly. They could not afford to throw away the opportunities of
+Providence. To his friend and co-labourer, the burden of his remarks
+was:--
+
+"_L�che!_ Go hon! You make me tired wiz yer ghosts an' tings. Let's not
+have no beast foolin'--see? De job is commence: _Allons!_"
+
+The upshot of this was that Pierre and Baptiste went back to work. At
+the third crack of the drill, Pierre crossed himself, and said:--
+
+"Baptiste, dere's a man in dat safe!"
+
+Both men grew pale as death at the very suggestion. Baptiste, for
+instance, was so frightened he couldn't utter a syllable. His tongue
+clove to the roof of his mouth. However, Pierre, as usual, was the first
+to recover. He applied his ear, first to the lock and then to the
+drill-hole.
+
+"Hey, in dere!" he cried, yet not so loud as to be heard on the
+side-walk. To this there came a faint response--a very faint shout
+indeed; it sounded as if it were a mile away:--
+
+"For God's sake, give me air! I am locked in here. Try and burst open
+the safe!"
+
+The two burglars did not stop to talk, but went at once to work as if
+their own lives depended on the result, instead of the life of the
+mysterious occupant of the vault. In less than four minutes they had a
+hole, somewhat smaller than the business end of a collar-button, knocked
+into the panel of the vault.
+
+Then Pierre and Baptiste paused to wipe the sweat from their brows. The
+man inside breathed.
+
+It was now that the pair began to muse on the d�nouement. Could this be
+a member of the firm or an employ�? This hypothesis jeopardized the
+success of the night's adventure, unless, when they had permitted the
+prisoner to emerge, they bound and gagged him into silence.
+
+On the other hand, this course would have an ugly look. If he resisted
+it might mean murder in the end; whereas, if they did not let him out at
+all, they would stand no chance of profiting by the pecuniary contents
+of the safe. Besides, as the man could scarcely live thus until morning,
+they would be responsible for his taking off. Thus reasoned Pierre and
+Baptiste.
+
+[Illustration: "BOTH MEN GREW PALE AS DEATH."]
+
+These were not highly comforting reflections, but there was still
+another and a better in reserve. What if, after all, the man were
+himself a felon? Might he not be a companion crib-cracker? In that case
+they would merely have to divide the spoils.
+
+"Hey, in dere," cried Pierre, suddenly struck with an idea. "What is de
+combination hof de safe?"
+
+"Fifteen--three--seventy-three!" came back in sepulchral tones.
+
+It was evidently growing harder and harder to draw breath through the
+tiny aperture.
+
+Thus it transpired that at the expiration of fifteen seconds the lock of
+the vault gave back the same resonant click it had rendered eight
+minutes previously. Thanks to the timely advent of Pierre and Baptiste
+it opened as lightly, as airily, and as decisively as it had closed 480
+seconds before on the unhappy accountant.
+
+The head book-keeper gasped once or twice, but without any assistance
+stepped out into the free air. He was very pale and his dress was much
+rent and disordered when his feet touched the floor. But this pallor
+quickly made way for a red flush at perceiving the two burglars, with
+the implements of their profession strewn around them.
+
+Meanwhile Pierre and Baptiste themselves stood transfixed by the sheer
+novelty of the situation.
+
+Without any kind of speech or warning, or without making any attempt at
+bravado, the book-keeper walked deliberately to his desk and rang an
+electric call for the police. Simultaneously it seemed, for so rapid and
+quiet was the action, he opened a drawer, took out a small revolver, and
+covered both burglars with a fatal precision. As he did so he uttered
+these remarkable words:--
+
+"Gentlemen, I would, indeed, be the basest of men if I did not feel
+profoundly grateful for the service you have just rendered me. I shall
+always regard you as any right-minded man should regard those who have
+saved his life with imminent peril to themselves or, which is just the
+same, to their liberty. Any demand in reason you make of me I shall make
+an effort to perform--but my duty to my employers I regard as
+_paramount_. I have accumulated a little money, and with it I propose to
+engage the best counsel in your defence, which is certainly marked by
+mitigating circumstances. If, on the other hand, you are convicted----"
+
+Here the officers of justice entered, having broken open the door with a
+crash.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+Future Dictates of Fashion
+
+BY W. CADE GALL.
+
+
+An elderly gentleman of our acquaintance, whose reading has been rather
+desultory than profound, and tending rather to the quaint and
+speculative, was astonished recently at coming across a volume in his
+library of whose very existence he had been completely unaware. This
+volume was oblong in shape, was bound in mauve morocco, and was called
+"Past Dictates of Fashion; by Cromwell Q. Snyder, Vestamentorum Doctor."
+
+Glancing his eye downwards past a somewhat flippant sub-title, the
+elderly gentleman came, with intense amazement, to understand that the
+date of this singular performance was 1993. Other persons at a similar
+juncture would have pinched themselves to see if they were awake, or
+have tossed the book into the street as an uncanny thing. But our
+elderly gentleman being of an inquisitive and acquisitive turn of mind,
+despite his quaintness, recognised the fact that if he was not of the
+twentieth century the volume obviously was; seized pen and paper, and
+began to make notes with the speed of lightning. Being also something of
+a draughtsman he was able to embellish his notes with sketches from the
+engravings with which "Past Dictates of Fashion" was copiously
+furnished. These sketches appear with the present article.
+
+Fashion in dress, according to the twentieth century author,
+notwithstanding its apparent caprice, has always been governed by
+immutable laws. But these laws were not recognised in the benighted
+epoch in which we happen to live at present. On the contrary, Fashion is
+thought a whim, a sort of shuttlecock for the weak-minded of both sexes
+to make rise and fall, bound and rebound with the battledore
+called--social influence. But it will interest a great many people to
+learn that Fashion assumed the dignity of a science in 1940. Ten years
+later it was taken up by the University of Dublin. By the science as
+taught by the various Universities later on were explained those points
+in the history, manners, and literature of our own ancestors which were
+formerly obscure and, in fact, unknown. They were also, by certain
+strict rules, enabled to foretell the attire of posterity. Here is a
+curious passage from the introductory chapter to the book:--
+
+"Cigars went out of fashion twenty years ago. Men and women consumed so
+much tobacco that their healths were endangered. The laws of Nature were
+powerless to cope with the evil. Not so the laws of Fashion, which at
+once abated it. It will, however, return in thirty-one years. In 1790
+Nature commanded men to bathe. They laughed at Nature. In 1810 Fashion
+did the same thing. Men complied, and daily cold baths became
+established. In 1900 it was pushed to extremes. The ultra-sect cut holes
+in the ice and plunged into the water. The fashion changed. For forty
+years only cads bathed."
+
+The following table is also interesting, and should be borne in mind in
+considering the accompanying cuts. It professes to exhibit the
+sartorial characteristics of an epoch:--
+
+           TABLE OF WAVES.
+
+                    Type.        Tendency.
+1790 to 1815     Angustorial    Wobbling
+1815 "  1840     Severe         Recuperative
+1840 "  1875     Latorial       Decided
+1875 "  1890     Tailor-made    Opaque
+1890 "  1915     Ebullient      Bizarre
+1915 "  1940     Hysterical     Angustorial
+
+[Illustration: 1893]
+
+[Illustration: 1905]
+
+The first plate in the book is dated 1893, and serves as a frontispiece.
+The costumes of the lady and gentleman are familiar enough, although we
+note with surprise that the gentleman's coat-talks seem to have a
+crinoline cast, and if the turned-up bottoms of his trousers are a
+little mortifying, it is atoned for by a triumphant attitude which
+disarms hypercriticism. Also the lady's posture makes it difficult for
+us to tell whether it is a stick or an umbrella she is carrying.
+
+[Illustration: 1908]
+
+There is a pictorial hiatus of some years, but the text notes that
+crinoline for women enjoyed a sway of some years' duration. For, taking
+the tracings from the plates in the order in which they are given in the
+book, we find a subdued form of the article in the female costume for
+1905. The ladies may well regard this plate as astounding. There is even
+a suggestion of "bloomer" about its nether portion, and if the hat is
+not without precedent in history, the waist is little short of
+revolutionary.
+
+[Illustration: 1910]
+
+The next plate displays a gentleman's habit for the year 1908. The
+tailors, fifteen years hence, seemed to have borrowed, in the
+construction of the coat, very liberally from the lady's mantle of 1893.
+Apropos of this and the ensuing three plates, it is pleasing to be told,
+as we are by the author of this book, that the long reign of black is
+doomed. Towards the close of April, 1898, Lord Arthur Lawtrey appeared
+in the Park attired literally in purple and fine linen, _i.e._, in a
+violet coat, with pale heliotrope trousers.
+
+[Illustration: 1902, 1911-12]
+
+Yet, in spite of the opposition to Lord Arthur, the wave was due, and
+the affection for colour spread. The new century, at its birth, saw
+black relegated to the past--also to the future. This was midway in the
+Ebullient Age. Pent up for decades, mankind naturally began to slop over
+with sartorial enthusiasm. In 1920 its _bizarrerie_ became offensive,
+and an opposition crusade was directed against it. Something had to be
+conceded. Trousers, which had been wavering between nautical buttons and
+gallooned knees--or, in the vernacular of the period, a sail three
+sheets in the wind and a flag at half-mast--were the items sacrificed.
+Knee-breeches enjoyed vogue for a time, but only for a time; for they
+vanished suddenly in 1930 and were replaced by tights or shapes. Boots
+made way for Elizabethan slippers. Hats had long since gone the way of
+the superannuated. Taught by the Darwinian theory, society discovered
+whence its tendency to baldness originated. They had recourse by degrees
+to flexible tiles of extraordinary cut.
+
+[Illustration: 1912]
+
+[Illustration: 1912]
+
+A further glance at the costume for the swells between 1902 and 1912
+reveals the existence of an entirely novel adjunct to male attire. Silk
+bows have been worn about the neck for nearly, if not quite, a century,
+but never in the body of the attire. It is true the gentleman as early
+as 1910 adorns his nether garments with a plain silk band, but in the
+elderly party of 1911 he has assumed gay ribbons for his shoes as well
+as at his knees and throat. In this plate we greet the presence of an
+unmistakable umbrella as a good omen. But it is only a short-lived
+rapture, for the spruce young party in the next sketch is balancing
+lightly between thumb and forefinger what we take to be nothing more or
+less than a shepherd's crook. This is hardly an edifying prospect. Yet
+if we do not altogether mistake the two wing-shaped objects projecting
+from his person, it is not the only feature of gentlemen's fashions
+twenty years hence which will occasion a shock. Nor must we overlook the
+frivolity of the lady of the same period who is doing her utmost to look
+pleasant under the most trying conditions. Yet it must be confessed that
+in spite of its intricate novelty and perplexity, the costume must still
+be called plain. One might be forgiven for surmising that the
+kerchief-shaped article covering a portion of the lady's bust is formed
+of riveted steel, for surely nothing else could support the intolerable
+load she is so blandly carrying off.
+
+Female costume seems to have always been regulated by the same waves and
+rules which governed male costume, but in a different degree. In the
+Ebullient period it is chiefly distinguished by head-dress and the total
+abolition of stays. Crinoline, in spite of certain opposition, enjoyed a
+slight revival in the present day, and in 1897 the divided skirt
+threatened to spread universally. But it passed off, and nothing of a
+radical order was attempted in this direction until the revolution which
+brought in trousers for women in 1942.
+
+Meantime, in the next plate of a lady's costume, which is dated 1922, we
+have presented a very rational and beautiful style of dress. The skirt,
+it is true, is short enough to alarm prim contemporary dames, and it is
+scarcely less assuring to find in the whole of the remaining plates only
+three periods when it seems to have got longer. But doubtless the very
+ample cloak, which is so long that it even trails upon the ground,
+extenuated and in some degree justified its shortness.
+
+[Illustration: 1922]
+
+[Illustration: 1920]
+
+[Illustration: 1926]
+
+The plate dated 1920 exhibits a very gorgeous and yet altogether simple
+set of garments for the male of that period. We are told that the upper
+portion was of crimson plush, and the lower part of a delicate pink,
+with white stockings and orange boots. It were well had the leaders of
+fashion stopped at this, but it would appear that either their thirst
+for novelty was insatiable or the Hysterical Wave too strong for them,
+for in the incredibly short space of six years fashion had reached the
+stage depicted in the following plate. Yet, even then, the depth of
+folly and ugliness does not appear to have been sounded, for three years
+later, in 1929, we are favoured with a plate of what is presumably a
+husband and wife on their way to church or perchance upon a shopping
+excursion. The lady is evidently looking archly back to see if anybody
+is observing what a consummate guy her spouse is making of himself, for
+with all her sartorial short-comings she has certainly the best of the
+bargain. The prudes, too, seemed to have gained their point, for the
+skirt is considerably less scanty in the region of the ankles.
+
+[Illustration: 1929]
+
+This skirt seems to have been rather a weak point with our posterity of
+the female persuasion, for in the next three or four plates we find it
+rising and falling with the habitual incorrigibility of a shilling
+barometer. The Oriental influence is easily traced in the fashions from
+1938 to 1945, but it cannot but make the judicious grieve to note that
+trousers seem to have been adopted by the women at the same time that
+they were discarded by the men.
+
+[Illustration: 1935]
+
+[Illustration: 1938]
+
+A further detail which might interest the student concerns the revival
+of lace, which transpired so early as 1905. Curiously enough, this
+dainty adjunct to the attire had fallen into desuetude among women. More
+curiously still, it remained for the sterner sex to revive it. For it
+was in that year that the backbone of stiff white collars and cuffs was
+broken. A material being sought which would weather the existing
+atmospheric conditions, it was yielded in lace, which continued in vogue
+for at least two generations.
+
+[Illustration: 1940]
+
+[Illustration: 1945]
+
+If we look for the greatest donkey in the entire collection, it is
+obvious that we shall find him in the middle-aged party of 1936, who is
+gadding about in inflated trunks and with a fan in his hand. If it were
+not for the gloves and polka-dot neck-wear we should assume that this
+costume was a particularly fantastic bathing-suit. The youth of the
+ensuing year, in the next plate, is probably a son of the foregoing
+personage, for it is not difficult to detect a strong family likeness.
+As to the costume itself for 1937, barring the shaved head and
+Caledonian cap, there is nothing particular to be urged against it. It
+seems clearly a revival of the dress of the Middle Ages.
+
+[Illustration: 1936]
+
+[Illustration: 1937]
+
+[Illustration: 1945]
+
+It is at least consoling to feel that only a very small minority of
+those who read this is destined to enliven our thoroughfares with such
+grotesque images as is furnished by the plate for 1945. The confidently
+asinine demeanour of this youth is hardly relieved by the absurdity of a
+watch suspended by a chain from the crown of his hat. That society
+protested against this aspect of idiocy is evinced by the harmonious
+costume for 1950, in which a complete revolution is to be noted. We
+hasten to observe that the latter plate--the one for 1948--is that of a
+clergyman.
+
+[Illustration: 1950]
+
+[Illustration: 1946]
+
+[Illustration: 1948]
+
+There is very little beauty about the lady's costume for 1946, or in
+that of the child in the plate. That for 1950 is a great improvement.
+The exaggerated chignon has disappeared, and two seasons later we find
+the costume fascinating to a degree, although certainly partaking more
+of the male than of the female order of dress. Without the cape it is
+not so captivating, as shown by the plate dated 1955-6, where both a
+lady and gentleman are shown, although to accord praise to either's
+hideous style of head-dress would be to abandon permanently all
+reputation for taste.
+
+[Illustration: 1950]
+
+[Illustration: 1952]
+
+[Illustration: 1955-6]
+
+The policeman shown in the drawing for 1960 seems to have a very easy
+time of it, for no man's person can be considered in danger from the mob
+who habitually offers so many _points � saisir_ as this policeman's head
+displays. We may likewise suspect the military gentleman depicted in the
+plate for 1965. It is not customary in the present day for army officers
+to affect umbrellas, but seventy years hence it may be found necessary
+to protect one's head-dress.
+
+[Illustration: 1960]
+
+[Illustration: 1965]
+
+[Illustration: 1965]
+
+Mawkish describes the attire of the civilian of the same year, but in
+1970 we notice a distinct change for the better, although personally
+many of us would doubtless strenuously object to wearing neckties of the
+magnitude here portrayed. In 1975 costume seems to have taken a step
+backward, and the literary young gentleman, who is the hero of the
+engraving, may well be carrying about his MSS. inside his umbrella.
+Whatever may be the merits of the spring fashions for 1978, it would
+appear to have been universal (to speak of the future in the past
+tense), for both these young gallants are dressed precisely alike. Of
+the three remaining designs, that of 1984 appears to us to exhibit the
+contour of the lady's figure most generously, and to have certain
+agreeable and distinctive traits of its own which are not only lacking
+in the gentleman's apparel, but are absent from the inane conception
+which appears to have obtained vogue five years later.
+
+[Illustration: 1970]
+
+[Illustration: 1975]
+
+[Illustration: 1978]
+
+[Illustration: 1984]
+
+As to the last plate in the series, we can only remark that if the
+character of our male posterity after four or five generations is to be
+as effeminate as its attire, the domination by the fair sex cannot be
+many centuries distant. The gentleman appears to be lost in
+contemplation of a lighted cigar. If he possessed the gift of seeing
+himself as others now see him, he would probably transfer his attentions
+to another and not less contiguous quarter.
+
+[Illustration: Spring and Summer Fashions, 1932.]
+
+In a general review of the costumes of the forthcoming century the
+Doctor observes:--
+
+"The seventeenth is famous as the brown; the eighteenth is with us the
+yellow; and the nineteenth we term the black century. I am asked my
+opinion of the twentieth. It is motley. It has seen the apotheosis of
+colour. Yet in worshipping colour we do not confound the order of
+things. As is the twentieth, so was the fifteenth."
+
+The author furthermore observes that "the single article of apparel
+which stands out most silhouetted against the background of the 19th
+century's dress is its hard, shiny, black head-gear. It is without a
+parallel. It is impossible for us to conceive of a similar article
+surviving for so long a period; and I venture to say, versed as I am in
+the science, nothing more absurd and irredeemably inappropriate, or more
+openly violating in texture and contour every rational idea on the
+subject, was ever launched. In 1962 the neck was left bare, in the
+n�glig� fashion, in imitation of Butts, the �sthete who the year
+previously had discovered the North Pole. In 1970, however, ruffs were
+resumed and are still worn, and I regret to say are growing in
+magnitude, until they threaten to eclipse precedent."
+
+At this juncture the notes and nap together terminated, for our elderly
+gentleman woke up.
+
+[Illustration: 1989]
+
+[Illustration: 1993]
+
+
+
+
+_Shafts from an Eastern Quiver._
+
+XII.--THE DAUGHTER OF LOVETSKI THE LOST.
+
+BY CHARLES J. MANSFORD, B.A.
+
+
+I.
+
+"Our journey seems to have no end, Harold," remarked Denviers, as he
+lashed the horses which drew our sledge over the dreary plain; "for a
+week we have been pressing on, night and day almost, in the hope of
+coming across the hut near the road over which the exiles pass. If that
+mujik told us the truth, we certainly ought to have seen it by this
+time."
+
+"We have had a long, desolate ride since we parted with him," I
+assented; "yet the snow lies in such drifts at times that we can hardly
+be surprised to find ourselves still driving onwards."
+
+"See, sahibs!" exclaimed Hassan, as he pointed to where the snow-clad
+plain was at last broken by a distant forest of stunted pines. "There is
+surely the landmark of which the mujik spoke, and the peasant woman's
+dwelling cannot be far off."
+
+After wandering through the outlying provinces of China, we determined
+to visit the vast plains beyond, being anxious to see a Russian mine. To
+all our requests for such permission we met with refusals, until
+Denviers pressed a number of roubles into the hand of an official, who
+eventually helped us to effect our purpose, after evincing some
+reluctance. Staying a few days after this at a peasant's hut, we had
+been fortunate enough to win his goodwill, and it was in consequence of
+what he told us that we promised to undertake our present expedition.
+
+[Illustration: "A DESOLATE RIDE."]
+
+No sooner did the keen eyes of Hassan discover the forest far ahead than
+we dashed onwards quicker than ever, as our exhaled breath froze in icy
+particles and the biting wind struck right through the heavy sheepskin
+wraps which we had purchased on entering Russia. Away across the snow
+our foam-flecked horses sped, until we saw the blue smoke curling upward
+in the frosty air from a low log hut, situated so that the pine forest
+sheltered it somewhat from the icy winds.
+
+"Someone evidently lives here," said Denviers, as he beat with the
+handle of his whip against the low door. We heard a footstep cross the
+floor, then the noise of a bar being removed as a woman opened the door
+cautiously and peered into our faces. Bent as she was with age, with
+hair that hung in white masses about her shoulders, there was an
+unsubdued look which rested upon us from her dark eyes that contrasted
+forcibly with the dull, patient glance of the average Russian peasant.
+
+"Who is it crossing the plains? Are you servants of the Czar?" she
+asked, in a tone of hesitation at our unexpected appearance, and
+glancing strangely at Hassan, who had secured our steeds and joined us.
+
+"We are travellers crossing the Siberian wastes with our guide, and
+come to you for shelter," I answered, although we had a deeper purpose
+in visiting her.
+
+"It is yours," the woman replied, and having shaken our sheepskin wraps,
+we entered the hut and accepted the invitation to gather about the
+pine-wood fire which burnt in one corner of the rude dwelling.
+
+"You are not a Russian peasant?" remarked Denviers, in a tone of
+inquiry, for the woman spoke English with some fluency.
+
+"I am not, for my people are the Lost Ones, of whom you may have heard,"
+she answered, with a dreary smile.
+
+"We do not understand you," Denviers responded, as we waited for her
+explanation.
+
+"If you were men of this country my words would be lucid enough. Among
+all those who were overcome in the many Polish struggles for liberty,
+none have ever returned who once trod the road by which the exiles
+passed to join those whom we call Our Lost."
+
+"You have a motive for living here?" I remarked quietly, watching
+attentively to see what effect my words would have upon her.
+
+"I am friendless and alone, choosing rather to dwell here within sight
+of the way to Tomsk, than in the great city from which I came. The Czar
+is merciful, and permits this."
+
+"Then the mujik who directed us here was mistaken," I persisted. "He
+related strange stories to us of fugitives, whom the peasants
+whisper----"
+
+"Hush!" she cried, looking nervously round. "What was the mujik's name?"
+For reply I placed in her hand a scrap of paper, upon which the man had
+scrawled a message. She glanced keenly at us after reading the missive,
+then answered:--
+
+"He may be mistaken in you, for you are Englishmen, and do not
+understand these things. A piece of black bread--what is it that it
+should be denied to an enemy, even of the Czar, who has escaped from the
+mines and wanders for refuge over these frozen wastes?"
+
+"You may trust us fully in this matter," said Denviers. "We have given
+our word to the mujik to render all the help we can."
+
+"It is a terrible day to traverse the plain," the woman replied, as she
+rose and threw open the rough door to the icy blast, which was only
+imperfectly kept out before. We followed to where she stood, then
+watched as she raised her hand and pointed at a distant object.
+
+"See!" the woman cried, bitterly; "yonder pine cross marks the spot
+where a brave man fell, he who was the lover of the daughter of
+Lovetski, one of our Lost Ones. By it, before the day is ended, will
+pass the long train of exiles guarded by the soldiery and headed by the
+one who hates to see that monument of his own misdeeds, but fears to
+remove it, for, persecuting the living, he dreads the dead." She closed
+and barred the door again; then, after some hesitation, spoke of the one
+to help whom we had gone so far.
+
+"It was the night of a masquerade at the Winter Palace, long to be
+remembered by many, for on the following day another rising of the Poles
+had been planned to take place. A number of the leading citizens of St.
+Petersburg were involved in it, but so well apparently was their secret
+kept, that they ventured to accept the invitations issued to them. Amid
+the mad revel the plotters moved, making occasionally a furtive sign of
+recognition to each other, or venturing at times to whisper as they
+passed the single word which told of all their hopes and
+fears--'To-morrow!' Chief among them was Count Lovetski, who murmured
+the watch-word more hopefully than any of those concerned whenever his
+keen eyes searched out those sworn to take part in the revolt so near at
+hand.
+
+"For three hours the gay crowd moved through the salons, then Lovetski,
+as he leant against a carved pillar, saw one of the revellers who was
+clad in strange attire approach several of the masqueraders and
+smilingly whisper something in their ears. At last the Count saw the
+stranger move close to himself, and a moment after he heard a mocking
+laugh from behind the black mask, as the unknown one stooped and uttered
+the preconcerted word. Lovetski looked doubtfully at the man's sombre
+garb, for the glance from his eyes was by no means reassuring.
+
+"'To-morrow!' repeated the masker. 'Count Lovetski, you do not respond.
+Have you forgotten?'
+
+"'Lower your voice, or we shall be heard by others,' said the Count,
+with a warning gesture. 'Who are you?'
+
+"'One of the three hundred citizens who are sworn to revolt to-morrow.
+The appointed day is fast drawing near, for in ten minutes the
+great clock will chime the midnight hour, and then, Count
+Lovetski--_Siberia!_'
+
+"His listener stared in blank amazement, then, regaining his composure,
+he replied:--
+
+"'So the plot is discovered? I am no coward. When is it settled for me
+to set out?'
+
+"'At the last stroke of the hour a drosky will await you at the main
+entrance. The palace is guarded by the soldiery. The others do not start
+immediately; you are the leader, and will be ready, doubtless.'
+
+"'Quite,' answered Lovetski, for he knew resistance would be useless. He
+quietly passed his sword to the masker, who took it, smiled again, and
+disappeared in the crowd. One by one the followers of the Count were
+singled out by the strange messenger of the Czar, and when the
+masquerade was over three hundred exiles followed the track of the
+sledge in which their leader had been hurried away a couple of hours
+before them on the long, dreary journey to Tomsk.
+
+[Illustration: "SIBERIA!"]
+
+"Lovetski was refused the privilege of communicating his whereabouts to
+his wife, who shortly after this event died, leaving their daughter to
+the care of strangers. Before long a rumour reached the capital that the
+Count had been shot while attempting to escape in disguise, and this was
+eventually found to be true.
+
+"Scarcely had Marie Lovetski reached womanhood when she joined a
+political movement, fired with a mad resolve to avenge her father's
+death, and within a year her name appeared among those on the list of
+suspects, whose every action was closely observed. A Russian officer of
+high rank, Paul Somaloff, who had more than once made her an offer of
+marriage, begged her to remember the fate which overtook Count Lovetski,
+but the bare mention of it only made the woman more inexorable. The end
+which everyone foretold soon came, for, seated one day in the midst of
+treasonable correspondence, Marie Lovetski was surprised by three
+gendarmes, who burst into her apartment. She tore the letter into
+fragments before they could stop her, then scattered the pieces over the
+floor. One of the gendarmes, motioning to his companions to pick them
+up, moved towards her and attempted her arrest. For one moment the woman
+stood at bay, then thrust the cold barrel of a pistol into the
+gendarme's ear.
+
+"'Raise but a hand or move an inch nearer and I will shoot you!' she
+cried, warningly. Her would-be captor shrunk back, and before he had
+recovered from his surprise Marie Lovetski darted past him towards the
+door. She seized the handle to wrench it open, then saw that all was
+lost. The door was locked and the gendarme had removed the key. There
+was a fierce struggle, in which one of the officers was dangerously
+wounded, but eventually they secured her, and within two months Marie
+Lovetski set out to traverse the same dreary road over which the Count
+had gone long before when she was a mere child.
+
+"Ivan Rachieff, the masquerader who had whispered into Count Lovetski's
+ear the fate to which he was consigned, was at that time a young attach�
+at the Court of the Czar. The zeal which he displayed in hunting down
+the autocrat's enemies rapidly brought promotion, so that when Marie
+Lovetski was exiled he had risen to be a general of the Russ army, and
+specially chosen for the duty of heading the Cossacks who conducted the
+exiles over the Siberian wastes, while among his subordinates was Paul
+Somaloff, who held a position scarcely inferior to his own.
+
+"Convicted of a double offence, Marie Lovetski was condemned to walk the
+whole of that wearisome distance among criminals bound for the mines,
+while the political exiles were somewhat less harshly treated. General
+Rachieff had been warned that a band of discontents had threatened to
+attempt the rescue of the prisoners, and special powers of life and
+death were granted to him. By long forced marches he hurried the exiles
+on, scarcely giving them a few hours' rest each night when they arrived
+at their halting-places on the route.
+
+[Illustration: "SHE THRUST THE COLD BARREL OF A PISTOL INTO THE
+GENDARME'S EAR."]
+
+"It was with a deep feeling of sorrow at his inability to lessen her
+sufferings that Paul Somaloff glanced many times on the way at Marie
+Lovetski. In spite of the strange position in which he found himself,
+his love for the woman was by no means lessened, but increased each day
+as he saw to his dismay how plainly her strength was failing as he
+looked upon the woman's haggard countenance, who was wearily dragging
+her limbs forward over the frozen wastes. One day Marie Lovetski's
+condition became so serious that Somaloff begged General Rachieff to
+order the fetters which bound her wrists to be removed, receiving in
+reply a refusal as contemptuous as it was decisive. All that day the
+exile's secret lover walked moodily on, racking his brains for some
+method by which to save the woman from dying before even the terrible
+journey was ended.
+
+"Not far from the hut in which you are now resting, the weary exiles
+were halted that night, and soon sank down in the log building into an
+exhausted sleep. After a severe conflict between his love and his
+allegiance to the Czar, Paul Somaloff rose, and, stealing carefully
+among the unconscious ones, he bent at last over the form of Marie
+Lovetski, stretched upon a straw pallet.
+
+"'Marie,' he whispered softly, as he cautiously awakened her. ''Tis I,
+Paul Somaloff--I come to save you.'
+
+"He remained by the woman's side till he had deftly removed the manacles
+from her wrists, then stole to the entrance as she silently followed
+him. Once he was outside the log building, Somaloff made for where his
+general's horse was stabled, and quickly untethering it led it forth.
+For one brief moment he clasped the exile to his breast, then lifted her
+into the saddle and placed the reins in her hand with a few hurried
+words as to the best course to pursue to avoid pursuit.
+
+"Suddenly Paul Somaloff felt a heavy hand grip him by the shoulder, and
+turning round he found himself face to face with Ivan Rachieff, his
+general! At the same time the woman was dragged from the horse and held
+by three of the Cossacks.
+
+"'Your traitorous plan was well thought out,' said Rachieff, as he
+smiled in derision at its failure. 'Paul Somaloff, you have broken your
+oath to the Czar, and I swear you shall die for this.'
+
+"'You may do your worst,' replied the young officer. 'You would not
+listen to my repeated appeals for a slight act of clemency for Marie
+Lovetski, and so have turned a loyal subject of the Czar into a
+traitor.'
+
+"'Insolent!' cried General Rachieff. 'At sunrise you shall be knouted to
+death.'
+
+"'Coward that you are,' retorted Somaloff, 'that is a punishment you
+dare not inflict upon one who wears a decoration given to him by the
+august Czar. I am a soldier, General, and, at the hands of my comrades,
+will die a soldier's death.'
+
+"'So be it,' answered Rachieff, calmly; 'you shall be shot at sunrise,'
+and he motioned to the soldiers who had gathered about him to take
+Somaloff into their charge, then turned on his heel and strode away,
+humming an idle air.
+
+"The grey morning had scarcely dawned when brave young Somaloff was
+blindfolded and led forth to be shot in sight of the exiles, while the
+woman whom he had failed to save looked helplessly on.
+
+"A few minutes afterwards, Paul Somaloff knelt on the snow-covered
+plain, the report of a dozen rifles rang out on the morning air, and the
+exiles saw his arms raised as he clutched convulsively at his breast,
+then he fell forward, dead!
+
+[Illustration: "HE FELL FORWARD, DEAD."]
+
+"The wild, despairing cries of the exiles were quelled with threats of
+the knout, and then the prisoners were hurried on, as they had been for
+so many days and weeks past. Ten days later a large number of Polish
+insurrectionists, ill-armed, and accompanied by a throng of even worse
+accoutred peasants carrying a red banner, flung themselves upon the line
+of march, and made a futile effort to break through the soldiers who
+guarded the exiles. The trained troopers of the Czar thrust them back
+and, as they broke and fled into the forest, chased and cut them down
+like sheep, till the snow turned to a crimson hue with their hearts'
+blood.
+
+"The exiles made desperate efforts to avail themselves of the
+opportunity to escape which the confusion presented. Those who were
+unbound fought with branches, which they tore from the stunted trees,
+while the others madly thrust the shackles upon their wrists into the
+faces of the brutal soldiery, who knouted or cut down men and women
+indiscriminately. Long will that massacre be remembered, and the
+dreadful sufferings which the survivors endured at the command of Ivan
+Rachieff. When at last Tomsk was reached, only a handful of decrepit
+exiles passed into the city out of all those who started on the long
+journey."
+
+"And Marie Lovetski?" I interrupted, "did she live to complete the
+distance, or what was her fate?"
+
+"It was reported that she was cut down during the massacre," the woman
+replied, slowly; "for nothing has been heard of her since by General
+Rachieff, although her body could not be found among the slain."
+
+I glanced at the woman thoughtfully as she concluded her story, and
+Denviers, who had listened in silence throughout, asked:--
+
+"Where is Marie Lovetski? You are aware that she is alive--nay, more,
+you know her place of concealment."
+
+Surprised at the directness of the question, the woman involuntarily
+rose, and then, seeing that we suspected the fugitive was hidden in the
+log hut, she answered:--
+
+"Marie Lovetski is not here, yet if the mujik has rightly judged your
+courage, within a week he will see your sledge return with one more
+occupant than when it started. Once she is carried there her escape is
+assured, for----" She stopped suddenly and pointed to the door. We
+listened attentively as the sound of footsteps drew near, then a heavy
+blow smote the barred entrance and a voice exclaimed:--
+
+"Open, in the Czar's name!" The woman's face turned ashy pale as she
+muttered faintly:--
+
+"That is the voice of Ivan Rachieff, who is again in command of the
+exiles," and she drew away the heavy bar to admit him. We rose to our
+feet in an instant as the door was flung open and General Rachieff
+entered and stood before us.
+
+
+II.
+
+For a moment the Russian officer stared at us without speaking, then
+throwing back his heavy sealskin cloak and revealing the military garb
+which he wore beneath, he asked the woman sternly:--
+
+"What does the presence of these men in your hut mean?"
+
+"We are travellers, who have asked for shelter. Our guide is an Arab; we
+are Englishmen," responded Denviers, quietly but decisively.
+
+"Spies, I do not doubt," said Rachieff, as he bit his heavy moustache.
+
+"My word is accustomed to be believed," replied my companion, sharply.
+"If you doubt what I have said, read that," and he flung a package
+containing our passports upon the table as he spoke.
+
+The officer took out our passports, which we had been careful to obtain.
+He glanced through them, then tossed the papers on to the table again as
+he remarked, in a morose tone:--
+
+"You would not be the first Englishmen who have made their way into the
+Czar's territory only to discredit it."
+
+"You have chosen a curious method of displaying your pleasantry,"
+retorted Denviers, glancing sternly at the heavy-bearded Russian who had
+so wantonly insulted us. Rachieff drew a chair to the table, and,
+sitting down, leant his head upon his hands, narrowly scrutinizing our
+features.
+
+[Illustration: "NARROWLY SCRUTINIZING OUR FEATURES."]
+
+"I saw some horses and a sledge in the shed without," he continued; "are
+they yours?"
+
+"They are," answered my companion, laconically.
+
+"Where was your last stopping-place before you reached here?" Rachieff
+asked, as if he were examining some prisoners.
+
+"We are neither Russian subjects nor refugees," Denviers replied. "You
+may save your inquiries for others, since we have no intention of
+satisfying your ill-timed curiosity." My companion turned his back to
+Rachieff, and raising a blazing piece of pine-wood which had fallen,
+tossed it again among the glowing embers, taking no more notice of the
+discomfited officer. Rachieff was nonplussed; he frowned heavily, then
+rising, moved to the door. He turned as he held it partly open,
+saying:--
+
+"If you were a Russian gentleman instead of an English spy, I would call
+you out for your insolence to an officer in the Czar's service."
+
+I saw the blood mount to Denviers's forehead as he snatched the driving
+whip which Hassan held and, striding forward, struck the Russian a blow
+across his face with it.
+
+"If I were an exile, no doubt you would knout me for that," he said,
+quietly. "You can do nothing as it is, since our papers are in order,
+except fight me."
+
+"I am in command of the exiles," answered Rachieff. "They are now
+passing yonder; when the halting-place is reached to-night I will leave
+my subordinate in charge of them and return here with an officer as my
+second. If you are not a coward you will be here awaiting me at
+mid-day."
+
+"I shall be here," replied Denviers. "Choose your own weapons; you have
+brought this meeting about entirely unprovoked, and to-morrow you or I
+will fall."
+
+"Adieu till then!" cried Rachieff, with a bitter smile of hatred, then
+he turned his face away, upon which was a long livid mark where the whip
+had fallen, and we saw him stride towards the exiles passing over the
+plain before us.
+
+"Ivan Rachieff is one of the most skilful duellists with sword or pistol
+in the Czar's army," said the woman, who had been an attentive observer
+of all that passed between the two men. "He will kill you with as little
+remorse as he ordered Paul Somaloff to be shot by the soldiers."
+
+"Paul Somaloff!" exclaimed Denviers. "Ah! I had forgotten his fate for a
+moment; but to-morrow, when Rachieff and I stand face to face, I will
+surely remember it."
+
+"Allah and Mahomet help the sahib," cried Hassan. "If the bearded Russ
+should chance to win, he shall fight the Arab afterwards."
+
+"Never mind Rachieff, Hassan," said Denviers; "we must at once make our
+plans for the purpose of helping Marie Lovetski to escape from Siberia.
+Whatever happens to me, she must be saved at all hazards."
+
+"Where is the woman concealed?" I asked the one who was our hostess.
+
+She rose and questioned us:--
+
+"Will you swear by the memorial which I have raised over Paul Somaloff's
+resting-place never to speak of what you may see in the strange
+hiding-place to which I may conduct you?"
+
+"We will," I answered briefly, as Denviers joined in assenting.
+
+We lost little time after Rachieff's departure, but drew together and
+discussed the probabilities of various plans succeeding, and at last
+decided on that which seemed to promise success. The dusk rapidly closed
+in upon us as we sat in thoughtful conversation, after which the woman
+rose, and, having scanned the plain near the hut as well as she could in
+the gloom, motioned to us to follow her.
+
+Hassan remained in the hut while we set out, and making our way through
+a part of the pines and firs close to the dwelling in which we had
+sought shelter, we found ourselves groping blindly along, following each
+other like phantoms in the darkness which enveloped us. So far there was
+little need for the woman to have sworn us to secrecy, for neither going
+nor returning did we get a glimpse of anything likely to indicate the
+spot to us again at any future time. At last we felt what appeared to be
+a rough flight of stone steps beneath our feet, then our guide lit a
+pine-wood torch which she carried.
+
+Holding up the flickering light before us, the woman led us into what we
+conjectured to be one of the catacombs of an ancient city. On both sides
+of us as we moved along the red flare of the pine-wood revealed many
+bodies of the dead, each stretched in a niche cut for it in the red
+rock, while at intervals between these we saw the resting-places of
+others distinguished by various strange emblems. One of these niches was
+silently guarded by two carved figures of horsemen with their white
+steeds caparisoned, and each of the riders held in his uplifted hand a
+sword such as the Damascenes use.
+
+"A strange resting-place that," I remarked to Denviers, as it stood out
+weird and ghastly in the light of the torch. "No Russian soldiery ever
+wear such accoutrements as are depicted there, I am certain."
+
+"They wear the garb of boyars of the time of Ivan the Terrible," our
+guide said, as she pointed to the mounted horsemen. "Where the pine
+forest about us is now there stood more than four hundred years ago one
+of the many cities built by that extraordinary monarch, but it has long
+been blotted out, and the Russ have forgotten its very existence. None
+now know of its catacombs save those of us who form a secret band, and
+whose object is to help the exiles who may escape and seek shelter and a
+safe hiding-place. Even now it would be impossible for you to find the
+one you seek, and if you wish to go farther it must be done blindfolded,
+or I will not lead you."
+
+We stood by the strangely carved horsemen, and having consented to the
+woman's request, allowed her to fasten our sashes securely over our
+eyes; then, led by her, we slowly advanced through what appeared to be a
+labyrinth of ways until we were stopped by someone who spoke to the
+woman in a calm, grave tone. There was a whispered conversation between
+the two, directly following which our eyes were uncovered, and we found
+ourselves facing a strangely-robed hermit. His long white beard fell
+almost to his waist, contrasting forcibly with the black garment which
+covered him, while his high forehead and the steadfast look directed
+towards us seemed to be in keeping with the hermit's strange
+surroundings. A heap of blazing pine-wood lit up his retreat and served
+to lessen the intense coldness of the air.
+
+[Illustration: "WE FOUND OURSELVES FACING A STRANGELY-ROBED HERMIT."]
+
+"You are Englishmen, and have promised to help Marie Lovetski to escape
+from here to our next station of refuge," he said. "Since the day when
+she fled she has been hidden in various of our secret places. Six months
+ago she was brought here, yet so dangerous is the risk that we have
+waited for the mujik's messengers, telling us that all is safe for her
+to be conveyed there. He says in his message that you can be trusted,
+and doubtless your passports will help you to accomplish the task more
+easily than Russ or Pole could do. We trust, then, in your honour, that
+once Marie Lovetski is in your keeping, you will die in her defence
+rather than surrender her to the horrors of a mine."
+
+We explained to the hermit the difficulty which the approaching duel
+between Denviers and Rachieff might cause, and discussed with him the
+possibility of overcoming it. Denviers was emphatic in his determination
+to meet the Russian on the morrow, and so it was arranged that at a
+certain hour Marie Lovetski should leave the catacombs and secretly
+watch the result of the duel. If Denviers escaped uninjured we were to
+mount our sledge and make for the spot where she would be stationed, and
+hiding her beneath the wraps, to start on our long journey back to the
+mujik who had intrusted us with the task of saving her.
+
+"You will, of course, allow us to see this exile?" Denviers remarked, as
+soon as everything was arranged. "It was for that purpose that we were
+brought here to-night."
+
+"Then your visit has been made in vain," was the unexpected reply. "It
+will be time enough for you to do so if your duel with Rachieff is
+successful."
+
+We endeavoured to overcome the hermit's objection, but, although the
+woman who had guided us there spoke strenuously on our behalf, the
+strange guardian of Marie Lovetski was not to be persuaded from
+following his own cautious plan. Finding our protests useless, we
+consented to be blindfolded once more, and were led back through the
+catacombs into the forest, and before long we had entered the log hut
+again. There we threw ourselves on our sheepskin wraps in front of the
+pine-wood fire, and laid down upon them to sleep; then, when daylight
+came, the woman awoke us and we passed the morning vaguely wondering
+what the result of the duel would be.
+
+Denviers urged upon our guide, Hassan, and myself the necessity of
+attempting to save the woman so long shut up in the dismal catacombs,
+and at last I gave a reluctant consent to do so if he fell, instead of
+making an attempt to avenge him. The Arab stolidly refused to do this,
+and justified his position by numerous quotations from the Koran, while
+declaring that Mahomet would certainly come to my companion's
+assistance, which, in spite of the gravity of his position, provoked a
+smiling retort from Denviers. Little did we know what the termination of
+the fight would be, or the strange part in it which Marie Lovetski was
+to have.
+
+
+III.
+
+"Hark, sahibs!" exclaimed Hassan. "Although noon has not yet come, the
+Russian is approaching to keep his promise to fight."
+
+We threw open the door of the hut and distinguished the ringing sound of
+the bells of a distant sledge. A few minutes after this the cracking of
+a whip and the neighing of horses were heard, and finally we saw the
+sledge appear before us. There were three occupants, and as it drew near
+we distinguished among them General Rachieff as the one who was urging
+on the horses. The conveyance dashed up to the hut; then one of the
+officers sprang out and restrained the animals, while a second, who
+carried a couple of swords, followed close behind Rachieff, with whom
+Denviers was soon to try conclusions.
+
+"The weapons are here," said General Rachieff, frigidly, as Denviers
+approached and bowed slightly. "There is no time to lose: we fight with
+swords as you see. Choose!" and he motioned to his second, who held them
+out. Following out the plan which we had determined to adopt, Hassan
+quickly placed our horses in our own sledge and drew them a little
+ahead, so that the conveyance should be ready for us to enter when the
+duel was ended, if my companion did not fall in the encounter.
+
+"We fight there," said Denviers calmly, as he motioned to the part of
+the plain to the right of where Hassan had already stationed our sledge.
+
+"As you will," responded Rachieff indifferently, and, accompanied by his
+second, he moved to the spot Denviers pointed out. There the usual
+formalities were settled by the other officer and myself, whereupon the
+two duellists made ready and waited for the signal to begin, which fell
+to my lot to give.
+
+I fluttered a handkerchief in the biting air for a moment, dropped it,
+and the swords were rapidly crossed. The reputation which Rachieff had
+won as a duellist was certainly well deserved, since his feints and
+thrusts were admirable, while Denviers, whose coolness in critical
+circumstances never deserted him, acted mainly on the defensive,
+parrying his enemy's lunges with remarkable skill.
+
+More than once the duellists stopped as if by mutual consent, to regain
+breath, then quickly facing each other again, fought more determinedly
+than ever. Rachieff saw that for once he had apparently met his match
+with the sword, and grew by degrees more cautious than he had been when
+the fight began; yet repeatedly he failed to completely ward off the
+quick lunges from my companion's weapon, and I saw the crimson stains of
+blood which marked where the sword point had touched him. Then he rained
+in his blows with lightning speed, pressing hard upon Denviers several
+times, and glaring furiously at him, while his distorted features showed
+plainly enough the mark of the blow he had received from the whip the
+day previous.
+
+"Rachieff wins!" cried the Russian's second, and I saw, to my dismay,
+Denviers's weapon suddenly twisted from his hand and flung into the air,
+while an exultant exclamation burst from Rachieff's lips as he rushed
+upon his defenceless opponent! Before he could make use of the advantage
+which he had unexpectedly gained, Marie Lovetski uttered a wild,
+mournful cry, and started forward from the pine forest, standing pale
+with momentary fear before him!
+
+The superstitious Russian stared incredulously, his sword-arm dropped to
+his side, while he gasped out:--
+
+"Lovetski's daughter, and yet she is surely dead!"
+
+Taking full advantage of the Russian's dismay, Denviers instantly flung
+himself upon his foe, dashing him backwards to the ground. Kneeling upon
+his enemy's chest and gripping him by the throat, as he held the sword
+he had seized before the startled Russian, my companion hissed in his
+ear:--
+
+"Yield, or you are a dead man!"
+
+The Russian's face turned to a purple hue as he almost choked for
+breath, then he muttered brokenly the exiled woman's name.
+
+"She is living!" cried Denviers, as he lowered the point of the sword
+till it touched the Russian's breast. "Swear that you will not attempt
+to hinder her flight, and I will release your throat."
+
+General Rachieff raised his hand in sign of assent, for his voice had
+failed him. Denviers rose, whereupon the Russian staggered to his feet,
+then, mad at his defeat, moved over to where his sledge was.
+
+[Illustration: "HE RUSHED UPON HIS DEFENCELESS OPPONENT."]
+
+"Get the woman into our sledge," cried Denviers to me. I started forward
+to where Hassan was; we snatched up the exile and immediately drove off.
+
+"After them, men!" cried Rachieff, caring nothing for his promise. "We
+will take Marie Lovetski, or shoot her down!"
+
+"Never trust a Russ, sahibs!" exclaimed Hassan, as he lashed our horses
+on, while our enemies followed furiously behind. "The only way to secure
+his silence would have been a sword thrust through the false one's
+heart."
+
+Away our sledge was whirled across the plain, faster and faster still,
+yet Rachieff, whose horses were more numerous than our own, drew
+gradually nearer. Marie Lovetski, who had forgotten her alarm now that
+Denviers was safe, turned her pale-set countenance towards our pursuers,
+and, as she did so, the report of a pistol rang out, while a bullet
+whizzed past her head! I saw Rachieff holding the smoking weapon in his
+hand as Denviers cried to me:--
+
+"If he fires again, I will shoot him like the dog that he is!"
+
+"No," cried Marie Lovetski, snatching a pistol from my sash before I
+could prevent her. "Rachieff slew Somaloff, my lover, and I will avenge
+him." She pointed the weapon full at the Russian, and I barely had time
+to brush her arm aside before the frenzied exile fired. Fortunately, the
+shot was deflected, and Rachieff was saved from the fate that he
+certainly deserved.
+
+"Shoot their horses!" exclaimed Denviers, and as our own dashed along he
+leant over towards the pursuing sledge and fired at the foremost of
+them. The animal reared for a moment, then fell dead, throwing the rest
+into confusion. Out the Russians sprang, and cut the traces through, and
+having in this way speedily managed to disencumber their steeds of the
+dead one, they immediately began the pursuit again. We waited for them
+to get near again, then fired in quick succession and brought down their
+other horses, in spite of the bullets which the Russians rained upon us,
+and which, fortunately, struck none who were in the sledge. Baffled in
+their pursuit, we saw our enemies standing knee-deep in the snow
+watching us as we dashed along.
+
+"Well," remarked Denviers, as we slackened our speed at last, "we have
+had a strange running fight, such as I least of all expected."
+
+"The sahibs have saved the woman," said our guide. "Their slave the Arab
+believes that even the Great Prophet would approve of what they have
+done. The promise to convey Marie Lovetski to the mujik's hut will now
+surely be kept"; and so it came about, for the daughter of Lovetski the
+Lost lived to find freedom hers on another soil and under another flag.
+
+
+
+
+_Illustrated Interviews._
+
+
+No. XXIII.--MR. HARRY FURNISS.
+
+[Illustration: "INTERVIEWED!"]
+
+It is the proud boast of every married man, and more particularly so
+when his quiver is fairly full, that he presides over the happiest home
+in the land. But there is a corner of Regent's Park where stands a house
+whose four walls contain an amount of fun and unadulterated merriment,
+happiness, and downright pleasure that would want a lot of beating. The
+fact is that Mr. Harry Furniss is not only a merry man with his pencil.
+Humour with him may mean a very profitable thing--it unquestionably
+does; fun and frolic as depicted on paper by "Lika Joko" brings in, as
+Digby Grant would put it, many "a little cheque." But I venture to think
+that the clever caricaturist would not have half as many merry ideas
+running from the mind to the pencil if he sold all his humour outside
+and forgot to scatter a goodly proportion of it amongst his quartette of
+children.
+
+[Illustration: "MY LITTLE MODEL."]
+
+[Illustration: "LITTLE GUY--OR, A FIDGETY MODEL."]
+
+I had not been in the house five minutes before they made their presence
+known. I had not been there a quarter of an hour before the discovery
+was made that they were small but impressive editions of their father.
+Have you heard of Harry Furniss's little model--"My Little Model"? She
+is Dorothy, who sits for all the little girls in her father's pictures.
+A clever, bright young woman of thirteen, with glorious auburn tresses.
+For two or three years past she has not forgotten to write her father a
+story, illustrated it herself, and duly presented it on his birthday.
+"Buzzy," for that is her pet name, is retained as a model at a modest
+honorarium per sitting. Should she be indisposed, she must find a
+substitute! Then there is Frank, the eldest, home for his holidays just
+now from Cheltenham; young Lawrence, who also draws capitally; and
+little Guy, the youngest, who creeps into the pictures occasionally. Guy
+is a very fidgety model. "I have drawn him in twenty different moves,
+when trying to bribe him with a penny to sit!" said Mr. Furniss. And it
+seemed to me--and one had an excellent opportunity of judging during a
+too-quickly-passed day spent at Regent's Park--that not a small amount
+of Mr. Furniss's humour was caught from the children. He has brought
+them up to live a laughing life, he ignores the standing-in-the-corner
+theory, and believes that a penny discreetly bestowed on a youngster
+during a troubled moment will teach him a better lesson than a
+shilling's-worth of stick. It is also evident that the brightness and
+jollity of the children are inherited, not only from father, but mother
+as well; and it was easy to discern, from the remarks that fell from the
+subject of my interview, that the touches of artistic taste to be seen
+about the place were due to the "best of wives and mothers"--immaculate
+housewife and capital hostess--Mrs. Furniss. And, as Mr. Furniss himself
+acknowledges, half the battle of life is overcome for a hard-worked
+professional man by the possession of a sympathetic and careful wife.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Just run through this budget of letters from father to children. When I
+arrived at Regent's Park--ten minutes before my time, by-the-bye--Mr.
+Furniss was out riding, a very favourite exercise with him. "Buzzy" and
+Frank and Lawrence and Guy brought out their treasured missives. When
+"Lika Joko" gets a pen or pencil in his hand he can't help caricaturing.
+These juvenile missives were decorated with sketches in every corner.
+Here is a particularly merry one. Frank writes from Cheltenham for some
+fret-work patterns. Patterns are sent by return of post--the whole
+family is sent in fret-work. Mr. Furniss goes away to Hastings,
+suffering from overwork. He has to diet himself. Then comes a letter
+illustrated at the top with a certain gentleman greatly reduced in face
+and figure through following Dr. Robson Roose's admirable advice. There
+are scores of them--all neatly and carefully kept with their envelopes
+in scrap-books.
+
+Some few days afterwards I discovered that Mr. Furniss delights in
+"illustrating" his letters to others besides his children. My photo was
+needed by Mr. Furniss for the purpose of making a sketch. I sent him a
+recent one. He wanted a "profile" too. The "profile" was taken when I
+was sadly in need of the application of the scissors of the tonsorial
+artist. I posted the "profile" with a request that perhaps Mr. Furniss
+would kindly apply his artistic shears and cut off a little of the
+surplus hair. By return comes an illustrated missive. I am sitting in a
+barber's chair, cloth round neck; the artist is behind me with the
+customary weapon, and laying low the locks. The whole thing probably
+only took a minute or two to do, but it is a capital little bit of
+drawing. It is reproduced at the end of this article.
+
+This quarter of an hour spent with the youngsters over their paternal
+letters was not lost. It prepared me for the man himself, it gave me the
+true clue to his character, and when he rushed into the house--riding
+boots and whip included--it was just the one the children had
+unanimously realized for me. A jolly, hearty, "give us your hand" sort
+of individual, somewhat below the medium height, with a face as merry as
+one of his own pages in _Punch_. He is restless--he must be always at
+it. He thinks and talks rapidly: there is no hesitation about him. He
+gets a happy thought. Out it comes--unique and original in its
+unvarnished state. He is as good and thorough a specimen of an
+Englishman as one would meet--frank and straight-spoken, says what he
+thinks and thinks what he means. An Englishman, notwithstanding the fact
+that he was born in Ireland, his mother was a Scotchwoman, and he
+married a lady of Welsh descent! But, then, his father was a
+Yorkshireman! So much for the man--and much more. Of his talents we will
+speak later.
+
+We all sat down to lunch, and the children simply did for me what I
+could not have done for myself. Frank ran his father on funny stories.
+Then it all came out. Mr. Furniss is an excellent actor--had he not been
+a caricaturist he must have been a comedian. His powers of imitation are
+unlimited. He will give you an Irish jarvey one moment and Henry Irving
+the next, and the children led him on. But it all at once dawned upon
+Mr. Furniss that it was interfering with the proper play of knife and
+fork, so we dispensed with the mimicry and went on with the mutton.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"Lika Joko" is suggested at once on entering the hall. Here are a
+quartette of quaint Japanese heads, which their owner calls his "Fore
+Fathers!" His Fellowship of the Zoo is typified by pictures of various
+animals. A fine etching of St. Mark's, at Venice, is also noticeable,
+the only two portraits being a Rembrandt and Maroni's "Tailor."
+
+"I always hold that up as the best portrait ever painted," said Mr.
+Furniss, as he glances at Maroni's masterpiece.
+
+[Illustration: THE DINING-ROOM.
+
+_From a Photo. by Elliott & Fry._]
+
+In the dining-room Landseer, Herkomer, Alma Tadema, and Burton Barber
+are represented--little Lawrence was the original study for the child in
+the latter artist's "Bethgelert." Fred Barnard's work is here, and some
+quaint old original designs on wood by Boyd Haughton are pointed out as
+curios. _Punch_ is to the front, notably in Du Maurier, by himself,
+which cost its possessor thirty guineas; a portrait group of the staff
+up the river, some delicate water-colours by C. H. Bennett, and a fine
+bit of work by Mr. Furniss of the jubilee dinner of the threepenny comic
+at the Ship Hotel, Greenwich. Upstairs the children's portraits, and
+pictures likely to please the youngsters, reappear. The nursery is full
+of them, though perhaps the most interesting apartment in this part of
+the house is the principal bedroom. It is full of the original
+caricatures of M.P.'s and other notabilities, and the occupant of the
+bed has Bradlaugh and the Baron de Worms on either side of him, whilst
+from a corner the piercing eye of Mr. George Lewis is constantly on the
+watch.
+
+A striking portrait of Mr. F. C. Burnand recalls to Mr. Furniss the
+first time he sketched him.
+
+"I was making a chalk drawing of him," said the caricaturist. "He sat
+with his back to me for half-an-hour writing, and suddenly turned round
+and wanted to know if I had finished! Perceiving a piece of bread for
+rubbing-out purposes in my hand, he objected to my having lunch there!
+And finally, when I induced him to turn his head my way and I finished
+the sketch, he looked at it critically and cried out, 'Splendid
+likeness, remarkable features, fine head, striking forehead,
+characteristic eyebrow, splendid likeness; somebody I know, but I can't
+remember who!' Encouraging, wasn't it?
+
+"But I remembered it. Some years after I gave a dinner at the Garrick
+Club to the _Punch_ staff and some friends. Burnand sat at the head of a
+long table. It was understood that there was to be no speaking. Suddenly
+I saw the editorial eyebrows wriggling. I knew what it meant--Burnand
+was going to make a speech. I hurriedly got about a dozen sheets of
+note-paper, and tore them in bits. I jumped up very nervous, produced
+'notes'; terrible anxiety on part of diners--suppressed groans. I spoke,
+got fearfully muddled, constantly losing notes, etc. 'Art amongst the
+Greeks,' I said--notes; 'yes, your sculptors of Athens were,
+unquestionably'--notes again. 'And what of it? _Punch_ is a--_Punch_ is
+a--well, you all know _what Punch_ is!' Then it began to dawn upon them
+that this was a little lark. So I hurriedly threw notes under the table
+and suggested that on an occasion like the present it was our duty to
+first propose the health of the Queen! We did. Then the Prince of Wales,
+the Army and Navy, the Reserve Forces, the Bishops and Magistrates. All
+these were replied to, and Burnand didn't get a chance!"
+
+[Illustration: THE DRAWING-ROOM.
+
+_From a Photo. by Elliott & Fry._]
+
+There are many delightful water-colours in the drawing-room, bronzes and
+quaint Japanese ivories. The first meet of the "Two Pins Club" at
+Richmond, June 8th, 1890, gives excellent back views of Sir Charles
+Russell, F. C. Burnand, Frank Lockwood, Q.C., Linley Sambourne, Chas.
+Matthews, Q.C., and the caricaturist himself. The "Two Pins" is a riding
+club named after Dick Turpin and Johnny Gilpin. Works by Goodall and
+Rowlandson are here, a fine Albert D�rer, and a most ingenious bit of
+painting by a man who never had a chance to get to the front--he has
+used his brush with excellent effect on the back of an old band-box.
+Mary Anderson has written on the back of a photo, "Better late than
+never," for the picture was a long time coming; another excellent
+example of photographic work being a large head of Mr. Irving as
+"Becket," bearing his autograph. In a corner is a queer-looking wax
+model of Daniel O'Connell addressing the crowd, and amongst a hundred
+little odds and ends spring flowers are peeping out. Mr. Furniss finds
+little time now to use his paint-box. The example--an early one,
+by-the-bye--he has contributed to this apartment is by no means
+prophetic. It is a trifle in water-colours--a graveyard of a church with
+countless tombstones! Now, who would associate the caricaturist with
+tombstones?
+
+[Illustration: THE STUDIO.
+
+_From a Photo. by Elliott & Fry._]
+
+Passing down a glass corridor--from the roof of which the grapes hang in
+great and luscious clusters in the autumn--you reach the studio. It is
+a big, square room. Run your eyes round the walls, try to take in its
+thousand and one quaint treasures. You can see humour in every one of
+them--merriment oozes out of every single item. Stand before this almost
+colossal statue of Venus. She of the almost faultless waist and
+fashion-plate divine rests on a coal-box. Sit down on the sofa. It is
+the stuffed lid of another receptacle for fuel. Golf is one of the
+artist's hobbies, and he invariably plays with clergymen--excellent
+thing for the character. We light our cigars from a capital little
+match-stand modelled out of a golf-ball, and the next instant "Lika
+Joko" is juggling with three or four balls. A clever juggler, forsooth.
+And the battledore and shuttlecock? Excellent exercise. After a long
+spell of work, the battledore is seized and the shuttlecock bounces up
+to the glass roof. It went through the other day, hence play has been
+postponed owing to the numerous engagements of the local glazier.
+Fencing foils are in a corner; a quaint arrangement of helmets, masks,
+and huge weapons _� la_ Waterloo suggests "scalping trophies." The china
+is curious--there is even an empty ginger jar--picked up in country
+places, of a rare and valuable old-fashioned type. He has the finest
+collection of old tinsel pictures of the Richard III. and Dick Turpin
+order in the kingdom, and values an old book full of tinsel patterns of
+the most exquisite design and workmanship. Old glass pictures are
+scattered about, "Lord Nelson's Funeral Car," and Joey Grimaldi grins at
+you from the far corner of the room.
+
+[Illustration: SCALPING TROPHIES.
+
+_From a Photo. by Elliott & Fry._]
+
+All this and much more is characteristic of the humour of the famous
+caricaturist. We look at "Lika Joko's" skits and laugh; we take a
+delight in picking out from his ingenious pictorial mazes our own
+particular politician or favourite actor; we roar at "Lika Joko's"
+comicality, and only know him as a caricaturist. But there is another
+side to this studio picture--Mr. Harry Furniss's pencil is such that it
+can make you weep; so realistic, indeed, that when in his early days he
+was sent to sketch scenes of distress and misery, they were so terribly
+real and dramatic that the paper in question dared not publish them. No
+artist appreciates a "situation" better than he. I looked through
+portfolio after portfolio, drawer after drawer--full of character
+studies and work of a serious character done in all parts of the world.
+These have never been given to the public. Should they ever be
+published, Mr. Harry Furniss will at once be voted as serious and
+dramatic an artist as he is an eminently refined yet outrageously
+humorous caricaturist. He is a great reader--he once collected first
+editions. We begin to talk seriously, when he suddenly closes the
+portfolio with a bang, shuts up once more his hidden and unknown
+talents, and hastens to inform you that he is a member of the Thirteen
+Club--Irving and he were elected together--and believes in helping other
+people to salt, dining thirteen on the thirteenth, with thirteen
+courses, etc. Always passes under ladders, and swears by peacocks'
+feathers.
+
+We stand before the great easel in the middle of the room--though not
+much work is done there. He prefers to work standing at a desk. He draws
+all his pictures very large; they are studies from life. It prevents the
+work from getting cramped. The same model has stood for all his
+principal people for the last ten years, and he has a wardrobe of
+artistic "props" big enough to fit out every member of the House of
+Commons. He is a perfect business man. His ledger is a model book. Every
+one of his pictures is numbered. In this book spaces are ruled off
+for--Subject, Publisher, When delivered, Published, Price, When paid,
+When drawing returned, Price of original, and What came of it. Humour by
+no means knocks system out of a man. Look at the score of pigeon-holes
+round the studio. As we are talking together now his secretary is
+"typing off" his illustrated weekly letter which finds a place in the
+_St. James's Budget_, _New York World_, _Weekly Scotsman_, _Yorkshire
+Weekly Post_, _Liverpool Weekly Post_, _Nottinghamshire Guardian_,
+_South Wales Daily News_, _East Anglian Times_, and in Australia, India,
+the Cape, etc. He writes children's books and illustrates them. His
+impressions of America are in course of preparation. There is his weekly
+_Punch_ work; he is dodging about all over the country giving his unique
+"Humours of Parliament" entertainment, and he found time to make some
+special sketches for this little article.
+
+[Illustration: _From a Drawing by Mr. Furniss._]
+
+We sat down. Tea was brought in--he believes in two big breakfast cups
+every afternoon--and with "Bogie," the Irish deerhound--so called owing
+to his very solemn-looking countenance--close by, Mr. Furniss went back
+as far as he could possibly remember, to March 26th, 1854. That is the
+date of his birthday.
+
+"I am always taken for an Irishman," said Mr. Furniss. "Nothing of the
+kind. My father was a Yorkshireman. He was in Ireland with my mother,
+and I believe I arrived at an unexpected moment. Possibly my artistic
+inclinations came through my mother. Her father was �neas Mackenzie, a
+well-known literary man of Newcastle-on-Tyne, and proprietor of several
+newspapers. He founded the Newcastle School of Politics, and Mr. Joseph
+Cowen--as a boy--got his first tuition in politics from sitting at the
+knee of my grandfather. A bust of him is in the Mechanics'
+Institute--which he founded."
+
+[Illustration: "AT WORK."
+
+_From a Photo. by Elliott & Fry._]
+
+Little Harry was brought up in Wexford. He remembers being held up in
+his nurse's arms to see the _Great Eastern_ pass on its first voyage,
+whilst an incident associated with the marriage of the Prince of Wales
+is vividly impressed upon his mind. He was struck on the top of his hat
+by a "fizzing devil" made out of moist powder, which burnt a hole
+through it. He says that he would rather have this recollection on his
+mind now, than the "fizzer" on his head at the time. The young artist in
+embryo was a rare young pugilist at school. He was forced to use his
+fists, as friction was strong between the Irish and English lads at the
+school he went to. But he did well in athletic sports, and was never
+beaten in a hundred yards race. He firmly believes that this early
+athletic training is responsible for the rapid way in which he does
+everything to-day--be it walking or talking, eating or working, all is
+done on the hundred yards principle--to get there first.
+
+He was a spoilt boy--first of all because he was sent to a girls'
+school, but mainly from a very significant incident which happened at
+the Wesleyan College School in Dublin--a collegiate establishment from
+which pupils (not necessarily Wesleyans, for Mr. Furniss is not of that
+sect) passed to Trinity College--where he obtained all his education. He
+was not a studious lad. He found the editing, writing, illustrating,
+publishing, and entire bringing-out of a small journal he founded far
+more agreeable to his taste than Latin verbs and algebraical problems.
+
+[Illustration: STUDY OF AN IRISHMAN.]
+
+"I was in knickerbockers at the time," he said, "and introduced to the
+schoolboy public--_The Schoolboy's Punch_. It sounds strangely prophetic
+as I think of it now. The entire make-up of it was _� la Punch_, and it
+had its cartoon every week. At that time the Davenport Cabinet Trick was
+all the rage, and the very first cartoon I drew was founded on that.
+Here is the picture: myself--as a schoolboy--being tied up with ropes
+depictive of Greek, Latin, Euclid, and other cutting and disagreeable
+items. I am placed in the cabinet--the school. The head-master, whom I
+flattered very much in the drawing, opens another cabinet and out steps
+the young student covered with glory and scholastic honours thick upon
+him! From that moment my school-master spoiled me. I left school and
+started work. I got a pound for my first drawing. A. M. Sullivan started
+a paper in Ireland on very similar lines to _Punch_. There was a wave in
+Ireland of better class journalism at this time which had never existed
+before or since. I slipped in. For some years I drew on wood and
+engraved my own work. I was given to understand that all black and white
+men engraved their own efforts, so I offered myself as an apprentice to
+an engraver.
+
+"He said: 'Don't come as an apprentice. If you will undertake to look
+after my office, I'll teach you the art of engraving.'"
+
+It meant a hard struggle for young Furniss. He was loaded down with
+clerical work, but in his own little room, when the day's labours were
+done, he would sit up till two and three in the morning. There was no
+quenching his earnestness. Work then with him was a real desire. It is
+so to-day. To rest is obnoxious to him.
+
+He worked away. The feeling in Ireland against Englishmen at that time
+was very strong. Tom Taylor, then the editor of _Punch_, saw some of his
+sketches in Dublin, and advised him to go to the West of Ireland to make
+studies of character. He was in Galway, and he had persuaded a number of
+Irishmen who were breaking stones to pause in their work and let him
+sketch them. They consented. The overseer came up.
+
+"What d'yer mane," he cried, "allowing this hathen Saxon to draw yer?"
+
+"I've never been out of Ireland in my life," said the artist; but the
+overseer had seized him, and but for the intervention of the men, whom
+he had paid liberally for the "sitting," he would have thrown him into
+the river.
+
+Then a great trouble came. His father was stricken with blindness. The
+young man came to London, and with something more than the proverbial
+half-crown in his pocket. He was nineteen years of age when he hurried
+out of Euston Station one morning and stood for a moment thinking--for
+he did not know a soul in the Metropolis. But he soon found an
+opportunity.
+
+"My first work was on _London Society_, for Florence Marryat," he said;
+"then for the _Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News_. The _Illustrated
+London News_ employed me. I did such things as the Boat Race, Eton and
+Harrow cricket match, and similar subjects--all from a humorous point of
+view. I have had as many as three full pages in one number. Then came
+that terrible distress in the mining districts. I was married that year.
+I was sent away to "do" the Black Country, and well remember eating the
+first Christmas dinner of my married life alone in a Sheffield hotel.
+
+[Illustration: MR. FURNISS ON "RHODA."
+
+_From a Photo. by Elliott & Fry._]
+
+"Those sketches were never published. They were too terribly real. The
+people dying in rooms with scarcely a stick of furniture, the children
+opening the cupboards and showing them bare, appealed to me, and my
+pencil refused to depict anything else. It was the same kind of thing
+that was afterwards made notorious by Sims and Barnard in "How the Poor
+Live." I came back and was selected to do some electioneering work for
+the same paper. This necessitated the putting off of a little dinner
+party to some friends, and I wired one of the invited to that effect.
+When I was starting, imagine my surprise to meet a _Graphic_ artist on
+the platform, and to hear that my friend had unwisely given away the
+contents of my telegram! However, we chummed up. He stayed with
+friends--I at an hotel. I sat up all that night working after attending
+the meetings. At four o'clock I heard a knock at the door. A journalist.
+I was just about to put into my picture the large figures. I made him
+very much at home, and told him I would give him any information I knew
+as to the previous night's proceedings if he would act as my model. He
+did. We worked on till breakfast time, and we sat down together. I sent
+off my page--it was in a week before the _Graphic_! It was a good
+return. I had started on the Tuesday, got home on the Thursday, and
+never had my boots off the whole time! I'd rather keep my boots on for a
+week than disappoint an editor."
+
+_Punch!_
+
+I asked Mr. Furniss if Tom Taylor helped him to any considerable extent.
+Oh! dear, no. Tom Taylor wrote a terrible fist, spattered the page all
+over with ink, and invariably replied on the back of the letter sent
+him. At least, it was so in Mr. Furniss's case. He would send sketches
+to _Punch_; they were acknowledged as "unsuitable." They invariably
+turned up a week or so later--the idea re-drawn by a member of the
+staff! He began to despair. But that first cartoon in the schoolboy's
+periodical was always before him.
+
+"When Mr. Burnand became editor," continued Mr. Furniss, "I was working
+on the _Illustrated London News_. He saw one of the sketches and asked
+me to call--the result was that I have worked for them ever since. I
+started at very small things; my first was a small drawing of Temple
+Bar. Then, when Parliament opened, Mr. H. W. Lucy commenced
+_Toby_--by-the-bye, Lucy and I both joined the _Punch_ table, the weekly
+dinner, together--and I worked with him. I have special permission at
+the House; as a matter of fact, I have the sanction of the Lord Great
+Chamberlain to sketch anywhere in the precincts of Westminster. My right
+there is an individual one."
+
+"But supposing, Mr. Furniss," I said, "they put a stop to you and your
+pencil entering?"
+
+"I'd go into Parliament!" came the ready reply. And, indeed, he has been
+approached on this subject by constituencies two or three times.
+
+We spoke of some of the eminent statesmen and others Mr. Furniss has
+caricatured. Mr. John Morley is the most difficult. He is not what an
+artist would call a black and white man. You must suggest the familiar
+red tie in your picture and then you have "caught" him.
+
+[Illustration: THE FURNISS FAMILY. _From a Photo. by Elliott & Fry._]
+
+"I have seen Mr. Morley look a boy, a young man, and an old man--and all
+in an hour," said Mr. Furniss. "Mr. Asquith is difficult, too. But I
+don't think I have ever missed him, as there's a Penley look about his
+face and a decided low comedian's mouth that help you immensely. Sir
+Richard Temple is the easiest. Many members have some characteristic
+action which assists you materially. For instance, Mr. Joseph Arch
+always wipes his hands down his coat before shaking hands with you,
+whilst Mr. Goschen delights to play with his eye-glass when speaking.
+Lord Randolph Churchill likes to indulge in a little acrobatic exercise
+and balance himself on one foot, whilst Mr. Balfour hangs on
+persistently to the lapel of his coat when talking. All these little
+things help to 'mark' the man for the caricaturist. I invented
+Gladstone's collar and made Churchill small. Not because he is small,
+but because I think it is the caricaturist's art not so much to give an
+absolutely correct likeness, but rather to convey the character and
+value of the man through the lines you draw. Gladstone! A wonderful man
+for the caricaturist, and one of the finest. I have sat and watched the
+rose in his coat droop and fade, his hair become dishevelled with
+excitement, and his tie get round to the back of his neck."
+
+"And what do the wives of our estimable M.P.'s think of all this?" I
+hinted.
+
+"Oh! I get most abusive letters from both sides. Wives of members write
+and ask me not to caricature their husbands. One lady wrote to me the
+other day, and said if I would persist in caricaturing her husband,
+would I put him in a more fashionable coat? Now, this particular member
+is noted for the old-fashioned cut of the coats he wears. Another asked
+me to make the sharer of her joys and sorrows better looking; whilst
+only last week a lady--the wife of a particularly well-known
+M.P.--addressed a most plaintive letter to me, saying that since some of
+the younger members of her family had contrived to see my pictures they
+had become quite rude to their papa!
+
+"Why, members often _ask_ me to caricature them. One member was very
+kindly disposed to me, and suggested that I should keep my eye on him. I
+did. Yet he cut me dead when he saw his picture! It's so discouraging,
+don't you know, when you are so anxious to oblige."
+
+I asked Mr. Furniss if he thought there was anything suggestive of
+cruelty in caricature.
+
+"Not in this country," he replied; "in Spain, Italy, and France--yes.
+Caricaturists there score off their cruelty. Listen to this. One night I
+was in the House. Mr. Gladstone rose to speak. He held his left hand up
+and referred to it as 'This old Parliamentary hand.' I noticed a
+fact--which men who had sat in that House for years had never seen. On
+that left hand Mr. Gladstone has only three fingers! Think of it--think
+of what your caricaturist with an inclination towards cruelty might have
+made of that fact, coupled with those significant words! I ask you
+again--think of it!"
+
+He spoke in thorough earnestness. He told me that he looked forward to
+the time when he should consign to the rag-basket the famous Gladstone
+collar and cease to play with Goschen's eye-glass. He is striving to
+accomplish something more--he would do it now, but it isn't marketable.
+Mr. Furniss is a sensible man. He caricatures to live; and, if the
+laughs follow, well, so much the better.
+
+The afternoon passed rapidly, and the studio became darker and darker.
+Venus on the coal-box looked quite ghostly, and a lay figure in the far
+corner was not calculated to comfort the nervously-inclined when amongst
+the "props" of an artist's studio. "Buzzy" merrily rushed in and
+announced dinner, and "Bogie" jumped up and barked his raptures at the
+word. "Bogie" knew it meant scraps. Mrs. Furniss and the children met us
+at the dining-room door. The youngsters' faces were as solemn as the
+Court of Queen's Bench. Little Lawrence looked up at me very demurely,
+the others waiting anxiously.
+
+"Please could you tell us what a spiral staircase is?" he asked.
+
+A dead silence.
+
+"Oh!" I answered, anxious to show a superior knowledge of these
+peculiarly constructed "ups and downs," "It's--it's--it's one of those
+twirley-whirley"--here I illustrated my meaning by twirling my finger
+round and round.
+
+A shout of laughter went up.
+
+If the reader will try this little joke on a score of people, by the
+time the twentieth is arrived at he will then discover why the happiest
+quartette of youngsters in the immediate vicinity of Primrose Hill
+laughed so gaily.
+
+Then we all went in to dinner. How well the shirt-cuff story went down
+with the soup.
+
+"Pellegrini," said the artist, "used to remark somewhat sarcastically to
+his brother artists: 'Ah, you fellows are always making sketches. I
+carry all mine here--here in my brain!' Pellegrini wore very big cuffs.
+He made his sketches on them. Until this came out we thought his linen
+always dirty!"
+
+[Illustration: BALLYHOOLY, M.P., GETS EXCITED.]
+
+Then Burnand came on with the beef. The two fellow-workers on
+_Punch_--Mr. Burnand and Mr. Furniss--run pretty level in their ideas. A
+happy thought is often suggested to both of them through reading the
+same paragraph in a newspaper, and they cross in the post. We spoke of
+_Punch's_ Grand Old Man--John Tenniel--of clever E. J. Milliken, whose
+really wonderful work is yet but little known. Mr. Milliken wrote
+"Childe Chappie"--and is "'Arry." Of Linley Sambourne, whom Mr. Furniss
+once saw walking down Bond Street, and had the strange intuition that he
+was the artist, connecting his work, and walk, and bearing together. He
+had never seen or spoken to him before. Charles Keene's name was
+mentioned. It was always the hardest matter to get Keene to make a
+speech. He far preferred the famous stump of a pipe to spouting. Mr.
+Furniss hurt Keene's feelings once with the happiest and kindest of
+compliments. It was at a little dinner party, and Mr. Furniss linked
+Keene's name with that of Robert Hunter--who did so much to provide open
+spaces for the people. He referred to Keene as "the greatest provider of
+open spaces!" Keene said he was never so grossly insulted--he never
+forgave Mr. Furniss. He failed to see the truly charming inference to be
+drawn from this remark.
+
+[Illustration: "THE ASSASSINATED SCARECROW, SOR!"]
+
+We went into the drawing-room, and together ran through the pages of a
+huge volume. It contained the facsimiles of the pictures which comprised
+one of Mr. Furniss's biggest hits--what was in reality an attack on the
+Royal Academy. His "Artistic Joke"--a sub-title given to this exhibition
+by the _Times_ in a long preliminary notice--created a sensation six
+years ago. He attacked the Royal Academy in a good-natured way, because
+he was not himself a member of that influential body. But there was a
+more solid and serious reason. "I saw how cruel they were to younger
+men," he said; "the long odds against a painter getting his work
+exhibited, the indiscriminate selection of canvases."
+
+This really great effort on the part of Mr. Furniss--this idea to
+caricature the style of the eminent artists of the day--kept him at work
+for more than two years. There were eighty-seven canvases in all. His
+friends came and went, but they saw nothing of the huge canvases hidden
+away in his studio. He worked at such a rate that he became nervous of
+himself. He would go to bed at night. He would wake to find himself
+cutting the style of an R.A. to pieces in his studio at early morn--in a
+state of semi-somnambulism. He fired his "Artistic Joke" off, the shot
+went home, and the effect was a startler for many people and in many
+places. It advanced Mr. Furniss in the world of art in a way he never
+expected, and did not a little for those he sought to benefit. One of
+these "jokes"--and a very dramatic one--is reproduced in these pages.
+
+The hour or two passed in the little drawing-room after dinner was
+delightful. We had his unique platform entertainment. Mr. Furniss was
+induced by the Birmingham and Midland Institute to appear on the
+platform as a lecturer. This was followed by his lecturing for two
+seasons all over the country, but finding that the Institutes made huge
+profits out of his efforts, and that his anecdotes and mimicry were the
+parts most relished, he abandoned the role of lecturer for that of
+entertainer with "The Humours of Parliament." As soon as he had crushed
+the idea that it was a lecture, people flocked to hear his anecdotes and
+to watch his acting, the result of his first short tour resulting in a
+clear profit of over �2,000.
+
+[Illustration: DRAWING FROM "AN ARTISTIC JOKE."]
+
+So it came about that young Frank closed his foreign stamp book, and
+"Buzzy" settled down in a corner by her mother's side and looked the
+little model she is. "Bogie" lay on the hearth-rug. Suddenly--we were
+all in "The House." We heard the young member make his maiden speech; we
+watched the mournful procession of the Speaker. Mr. Gladstone appeared
+upon the scene--he walked the room, and in a merry sort of way played
+with "Buzzy's" long curls--and took an intense interest in Frank's
+collection of foreign stamps. "Bogie" was evidently inclined to break
+out in a loud bark of presumable applause when the Irish member rose to
+his legs--the member for Ballyhooly--who had a question to ask the Chief
+Secretary for Ireland regarding an assassinated scarecrow! The reply did
+not satisfy him, and the Ballyhooly M.P. poured forth such a torrent of
+abuse upon the Chief Secretary's head that "Bogie's" bark came forth in
+boisterous tones just as the Speaker called the Irish representative to
+order!
+
+"What a hissing there was at one of my entertainments at Leicester,"
+said the humorist-caricaturist looking across at me with twinkling eyes.
+"A terrible hissing! I showed Mr. Gladstone on the sheet. Immediately it
+burst forth like a suddenly alarmed steam-engine. The audience rose in
+indignation--they tried to outdo it with frantic applause, but in spite
+of their lusty efforts it continued for several minutes.
+
+"'Turn him out--turn him out!' they cried. But we couldn't find the
+party who was acting so rudely.
+
+"Imagine my feelings next morning when I saw in the papers leading
+articles speaking in strong terms of this occurrence, which, one of
+them stated in bold type--'was a disgrace to the people of Leicester.'"
+
+"Bogie" rose from the hearth-rug, wagged his tail, and made his exit.
+
+"Good night, Buz."
+
+"Good night, Frank."
+
+"And did they ever discover this very unseemly person?" I asked Mr.
+Furniss when we were alone.
+
+"Oh! I forgot to tell you," he said, "that it was the hissing of the
+lime in my magic lantern!"
+
+HARRY HOW.
+
+[Illustration: Telegraphic Address, Likajoko, London]
+
+
+
+
+_Portraits of Celebrities at Different Times of their Lives._
+
+
+[Illustration: AGE 10.
+
+_From a Photo. by W. Andrews, Dublin._]
+
+[Illustration: Age 20.
+
+_From a Photo. by W. & D. Downey._]
+
+
+HARRY FURNISS.
+
+BORN 1854.
+
+At ten years old Mr. Furniss was a pupil at the Wesleyan College School
+at Dublin, where he started and edited _The Schoolboy's Punch_, in the
+manner described in the extremely interesting interview which appears in
+the present number. At twenty he had just come up to London, and was
+working for the illustrated papers. At twenty-six he joined the staff of
+_Punch_, with which his name has ever since been intimately connected.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 26.
+
+_From a Photo. by C. Watkins, Camden Road, N.W._]
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photo by Debenham & Gould._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 17.
+
+_From a Photo, by A. Adams, Aberdeen._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 24.
+
+_From a Photo. by John Lamb, Aberdeen._]
+
+
+SIR GEORGE REID, P.R.S.A.
+
+BORN 1842.
+
+Sir George Reid, P.R.S.A., was born in Aberdeen, N.B., in the year 1842,
+and when nineteen years of age commenced his artistic studies at the
+"Trustees' Academy," in the City of Edinburgh, and shortly afterwards in
+Utrecht, under Mollinger. In 1870 he quitted the latter place for Paris,
+where he continued his studies; and for several months in 1871 completed
+his student life with Israels, at The Hague. He has proved himself a
+true artist, and proficient in all departments--both figure and
+landscape. Latterly he has applied himself to portrait painting, in
+which he finds few competitors. He has done much in the way of book
+illustrating. He was elected an Associate of the Royal Scottish Academy
+in 1870, and a full member seven years afterwards, receiving on the
+death of Sir W. Fettes Douglas the unanimous call of his brethren to
+occupy the chair as President.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 36.
+
+_From a Photo. by John Lamb, Aberdeen._]
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photo. by A. Inglis, Edinburgh._]
+
+
+COLIN HUNTER, A.R.A.
+
+BORN 1841.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 15.
+
+_From a Daguerreotype._]
+
+Colin Hunter, A.R.A., was born in Glasgow, July 16, 1841, and is the son
+of John Hunter, bookseller and postmaster, of Helensburgh. He was
+educated in that town, and began painting at twenty years of age, after
+four years' clerkship. His education as a painter was derived from
+Nature. Mr. Hunter was elected an Associate of the Royal Academy in
+January, 1884, and is also a Member of the Royal Scottish Water Colour
+Society.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 24.
+
+_From a Photo. by Ovinius-Davis, Glasgow._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 32.
+
+_From a Photo. by Fradelle & Marshall, London._]
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 20.
+
+_From a Drawing by Carl Hartmann._]
+
+
+SIR FREDERICK AUGUSTUS ABEL, BART., K.C.B., D.C.L., F.R.S.
+
+BORN 1827.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 28.
+
+_From a Photo. by Maull & Co., London._]
+
+Sir Fredk. A. Abel, Bart., who has lately been prominent before the
+public in connection with the recent opening of the Imperial Institute,
+of which he has been Organizing Secretary from 1887, was born in London
+in 1827, and is known principally in connection with chemistry and
+explosives. His published works are: "The Modern History of Gunpowder,"
+1866; "Gun Cotton," 1866; "On Explosive Agents," 1872, "Researches in
+Explosives," 1875; and "Electricity Applied to Explosive Purposes,"
+1884. He is also joint-author with Colonel Bloxam of a "Handbook of
+Chemistry." Sir Frederick Abel has been President of the Institute of
+Chemistry, the Society of Chemical Industry, and the Society of
+Telegraph Engineers and Electricians. He was appointed Associate Member
+of the Ordnance Committee in 1867; and is Chemist to the War Department
+and likewise Chemical Referee to the Government. In 1883 he was one of
+the Royal Commissioners on Accidents in Mines, and was President of the
+British Association at the Leeds meeting, 1890. He was created C.B. in
+1877, Hon. D.C.L., Oxford, in 1883, knighted in the same year, and
+raised to the rank of Baronet at the opening of the Imperial Institute.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 50.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 65.
+
+_From a Photo. by Barraud, London._]
+
+
+LORD KELVIN.
+
+BORN 1824.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 28.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+William Thomson, Lord Kelvin, was born at Belfast on the 26th of June,
+1824. His father was a distinguished mathematician, and was Professor of
+Mathematics, first in Belfast, and afterwards in Glasgow University. At
+a very early age, Lord Kelvin showed extraordinary mathematical ability;
+and he passed with great distinction, first through the University of
+Glasgow, and then through Cambridge, where he gained the Second
+Wranglership and the first Smith's Prize. He became Professor of Natural
+Philosophy in the University of Glasgow in 1846, at the age of
+twenty-two; and he still holds that office. He was one of the pioneer
+band who laid the first successful Atlantic cable, in 1858. In 1866 Her
+Majesty conferred the honour of knighthood on him for his distinguished
+services to the science and practice of submarine telegraphy. Lord
+Kelvin is the author of many inventions. His mariner's compass and
+sounding machine have done good service to seamen. His electrical
+instruments are the standards all over the world. He is President of the
+Royal Society and member of every important scientific society at home
+and abroad. In January, 1892, the Queen conferred upon him his peerage.
+He held the Colquhoun Sculls, at Cambridge, for two years. He is a
+sailor at heart and an enthusiastic yachtsman; and, among amateurs, a
+more keen lover of music it would be difficult to find.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 45.
+
+_From a Photo. by John Fergus, Largs._]
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photo. by W. & D. Downey._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 2.
+
+_From a Painting._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 8.
+
+_From a Photo. by R. Tudor Williams, Monmouth._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 40.
+
+_From a Photo. by M. Guttenberg, Manchester._]
+
+
+CARDINAL-ARCHBISHOP VAUGHAN.
+
+BORN 1832.
+
+His Eminence Herbert Vaughan, D.D., is the eldest son of the late
+Lieut.-Colonel Vaughan, of Courtfield, Herefordshire, born at
+Gloucester, April 15, 1832, and was educated at Stonyhurst College,
+Lancashire, on the Continent, and in Rome. On the death of Bishop
+Turner, he was elected Bishop of Salford, a post which he held until his
+recent elevation to the rank of Cardinal-Archbishop.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 25.
+
+_From a Photo. by Jules G�ruzet, Brussels._]
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photo. by G. Felici, Rome._]
+
+[Illustration: COLONEL VAUGHAN.
+
+_From a Photo. by G. Borelli._]
+
+[Illustration: JOHN S. VAUGHAN.
+
+_From a Photo. by A. Sauvy._]
+
+[Illustration: KENELM VAUGHAN.
+
+_From a Photo. by Southwell Bros._]
+
+[Illustration: REGINALD VAUGHAN.
+
+_From a Photo. by Bradley & Rulofson._]
+
+[Illustration: THE LATE COLONEL VAUGHAN.
+
+_Father of Cardinal Vaughan, Archbishop of Westminster._
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+[Illustration: JOSEPH JEROME VAUGHAN.
+
+_From a Photo. by Bara._]
+
+[Illustration: BERNARD VAUGHAN.
+
+_From a Photo. by G. Jerrard._]
+
+[Illustration: ROGER BEDE VAUGHAN.
+
+_From a Photo. by J. H. Newman._]
+
+THE FATHER AND BROTHERS OF CARDINAL-ARCHBISHOP VAUGHAN.
+
+
+
+
+ZIG-ZAGS AT THE ZOO
+
+XII.--ZIG-ZAG ACCIPITRAL.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The accipitral birds are the eagles, the vultures, the falcons, the
+owls--all those birds that bite and tear unhappy mammals as well as
+birds of more peaceful habits than themselves. They have all, it will be
+observed, Roman noses, which may be the reason why the Romans adopted
+the eagle as a standard; as also it may not. They have striking
+characteristics of their own, and have been found very useful by poets
+and other people who have to wander off the main subject to make plain
+what they mean. The owl is the wiseacre of Nature, the vulture is a vile
+harpy, and the eagle is the embodiment of everything great and mighty,
+and glorious and free, and swooping and catoptrical. There is very
+little to say against the eagle, except that he looks a deal the better
+a long way off, like an impressionist picture or a volcano. When the
+eagle is flying and swooping, or soaring and staring impudently at the
+sun, or reproaching an old feather of his own in the arrow that sticks
+in his chest, or mewing his mighty youth (a process I never quite
+understood)--when he is doing noble and poetical things of this class at
+an elevation of a great many thousand feet above the sea level he is
+sublime. When you meet him down below, on his feet, much of the
+sublimity is rubbed off.
+
+[Illustration: CHARLEY.]
+
+[Illustration: CORNS,--]
+
+[Illustration: BUNIONS,--]
+
+[Illustration: CHILBLAINS, OR--]
+
+[Illustration: IKINESS?]
+
+There is only one eagle in the world with whom I can claim anything like
+a confidential friendship, although I know many. His name is Charley.
+If, after a chat with Bob the Bactrian, you will turn your back to the
+camel-house and walk past the band-stand toward the eagles' aviaries,
+you will observe that the first corner cage is occupied by wedge-tailed
+eagles--a most disrespectful name, by-the-bye, I think. There are
+various perches, including a large tree-trunk, for these birds; but one
+bird, the oldest in the cage, doesn't use them. He keeps on the floor by
+the bars facing the place where Suffa Culli and Jung Perchad stand to
+take up passengers, and looks out keenly for cats. That is Charley. He
+is all right when you know him, is Charley, and I have it on the best
+authority that there are no flies on him. A rat on the straggle has been
+known to turn up in this aviary and run the gauntlet of all the
+cages--till he reached Charley; nothing alive and eatable ever got past
+_him_. I have all the esteem and friendship for Charley that any eagle
+has a right to expect; but I can't admit the least impressiveness in his
+walk. An eagle's feet are not meant to walk with, but to grab things. An
+eagle's walk betrays a lamentable bandy-leggedness, and his toe-nails
+click awkwardly against the ground. This makes him plant his feet
+gingerly and lift them quickly, so that worthy old ladies suppose him to
+be afflicted with lameness or bunions, an opinion which disgusts the
+bird, as you may observe for yourself; for you will never find an eagle
+in these Gardens submitting himself to be fondled by an old lady
+visitor. It is by way of repudiating any suggestion of bunions that the
+eagle adopts a raffish, off-hand, chickaleary sort of roll in the gait,
+so that altogether, especially as viewed from behind, a walking eagle
+has an appearance of perpetually knocking 'em in the Old Kent Road. On
+Charley's next birthday I shall present him, I think, with a proper
+pearly suit, with kicksies cut saucy over the trotters, and an artful
+fakement down the side, if the Society will allow me.
+
+[Illustration: A PASSING SNACK.]
+
+[Illustration: DINNER AHOY!]
+
+There is nothing in the world that pleases an eagle better at
+dinner-time than a prime piece of cat. Charley tells me that, upon the
+whole, he prefers a good, plump, mouse-fed tabby; he adds that he never
+yet heard of a tame eagle being kept at a sausage shop, though he would
+like a situation of that sort himself, very much. The stoop of a free
+eagle as it takes a living victim is, no doubt, a fine thing, except for
+the victim; but the grabbing of cut-up food here in captivity is merely
+comic. The eagle, with his Whitechapel lurch, makes for the morsel and
+takes it in his stride; then he stands on it in a manner somehow
+suggesting pattens, and pecks away at the hair--if, luckily, he has
+secured a furry piece. I am not intimate with any eagle but Charley, but
+I am very friendly with all of them--golden, tawny, white-tailed, and
+the rest, with their scowls and their odd winks--all but one other of
+the wedge-tailers, who stays for ever at the top of the tree trunk and
+looks out westward, trying to distinguish the cats in the gardens of St.
+John's Wood; he is reserved as well as uppish, and I don't know him to
+speak to.
+
+[Illustration: UNCIVIL BAWLINGS.]
+
+I am pretty intimate with many of the owls. The owl I know least is a
+little Scops owl, kept alone in the insect-house. He has for next-door
+neighbour a sad old reprobate--Cocky, the big Triton cockatoo--who
+abuses him horribly. The fact is, they both occupy a recess which once
+Cocky had all to himself, and now Cocky bullies the intruder up hill and
+down dale; although little Scops would gladly go somewhere else if he
+could, and takes no notice of Cocky's uncivil bawlings further than to
+lift his near wing apprehensively at each outburst. He and I have not
+been able to improve our acquaintance greatly, partly because he is out
+of reach, and partly because Cocky's conversation occupies most of his
+time.
+
+[Illustration: WHAT!]
+
+[Illustration: WELL--]
+
+[Illustration: DID YOU EVER!]
+
+[Illustration: OF ALL THE--!]
+
+The Zoo owls are a lamentably scattered family. Another Scops owl, with
+one eye, lives in the eastern aviary, in Church's care. He is a
+charming, furious little ruffian (I am speaking of the owl, and not of
+Church), and perfectly ready to peck any living thing, quite
+irrespective of size. Where he lost his eye is a story of his own, for
+he was first met with but one. He sits on his perch with a furious cock
+of the ears--which are not ears at all, but feathers--with the aspect of
+being permanently prepared to repel boarders; and the only thing that
+could possibly add to his fierceness of appearance would be a patch over
+the sight of the demolished eye; a little present I would gladly make
+myself, if he would let me.
+
+[Illustration: THE SCOWLING SCOPS.]
+
+He lives just underneath a much less savage little Naked-foot Owl, who
+doesn't resent your existence with his beak, but gazes at you with a
+most extreme air of shocked surprise. He doesn't attack you bodily for
+standing on this earth on your own feet--he is too much grieved and
+scandalized. He looks at you as a teetotal lady of the Anti-Gambling
+League would look at her nephew if he offered to toss her for whiskies.
+He follows you with his glare of outraged propriety till you shrink
+behind Church and sneak away, with an indescribable feeling of personal
+depravity previously unknown. Why should this pharisaical little bird
+make one feel a criminal? As a matter of fact, he is nothing but a
+raffish fly-by-night himself; and his pious horror is assumed, I
+believe, as much to keep his eyes wide open and him awake as to impose
+on one.
+
+The owls' cages proper are away behind the llamas' house, and here you
+may study owl nature in plenty; and you may observe the owls, like
+people sitting through a long sermon, affecting various concealments and
+excuses for going to sleep in the daytime. The milky eagle-owl pretends
+to be waiting for a friend who never keeps his appointment. You come
+upon him as he is dozing away quietly; he sees you just between his
+eyelids, and at once stares angrily down the path as if he were sick of
+waiting, and the other owl already half an hour overdue. Of course there
+is no owl coming, so he shakes his head testily and half shuts his eyes.
+If you go away then, he goes to sleep again. If you stay, he presently
+makes another pretence of pulling out his watch and wondering if that
+owl is ever coming. He has practised the transparent deception so long
+that he does it now mechanically, and sleeps, I believe, or nearly so,
+through the whole process. The oriental owl does it rather differently.
+He doesn't open his eyes when you first wake him--this in order to give
+greater verisimilitude to his pretence of profound meditation; he wishes
+you to understand that it is not your presence that causes him to open
+his eyes, but the natural course of his philosophical speculations. As a
+pundit, he disdains to appear to observe you; so he gazes solemnly at a
+vast space with nothing whatever for its centre. He sees you, but he
+knows you for a creature that never carries raw meat with it, like a
+keeper; a creature beneath the notice of _Bubo orientalis_.
+
+[Illustration: MILKY REPOSE.]
+
+[Illustration: IS HE COMING?]
+
+[Illustration: WHAT A NUISANCE!]
+
+As a song-bird, the owl is not a conspicuous success. Perhaps he has
+learned this in the Zoo, for he cannot be induced to perform during
+visiting hours. He is a reserved person, and exclusive. If you, as a
+stranger, attempt to scrape his acquaintance, he meets you with an
+indignant stare--confound your impudence! Nothing in this world can
+present such a picture of offended, astounded dignity as an owl. I often
+wonder what he said when Noah ordered him peremptorily into the Ark. As
+for myself, I should as soon think of ordering one of the beadles at the
+Bank.
+
+[Illustration: NOT YET?]
+
+[Illustration: OH, HANG IT!]
+
+Many worthy owls, long since passed away as living things, now exist in
+their astral forms as pepper-boxes and tobacco-jars. They probably
+belonged, in life, to the same species as a friend of mine here, who
+exhibits one of their chief physical features. He sits immovably still,
+so far as his body--his jar or pepper-reservoir--is concerned; indeed,
+if he is not disturbed, he sits immovably altogether, and sleeps. When
+he is disturbed he wakes in instalments, opening one eye at a time. He
+fixes you with his wild, fiery eye, his indignant stare. Start to walk
+round him; the head turns, and the stare follows you, with no movement
+whatever of the part containing the pepper. The head slowly turns and
+turns, without the smallest indication of stopping anywhere. I never
+tempted it farther than once round, but walked back the other way, for
+fear of strangling a valuable bird. Besides, I remembered an owl
+pepper-box once, which became loose in the screw through continual
+turning, so that the head fell off into your plate, and all the pepper
+after it.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The biggest owls are the eagle-owls. The eagle-owls here occupy a
+similar sort of situation to that of the hermit in an old tea-garden. In
+a secluded nook behind the camel-house a brick-built cave is kept in a
+wire cage, which not only hinders the owls from escaping, but prevents
+them taking the cave with them if they do. The cave is fitted up with
+the proper quantity of weird gloom and several convenient perches; the
+perches, however, are indistinct, because the gloom is obvious. In the
+midst of it you may see two fiery eyes, like the fire-balls from a Roman
+candle, and nothing else. This is the most one often has a chance of
+seeing here in bright day. Often the eagle-owls are asleep, and then you
+do not even see the fireworks. I know the big eagle-owl fairly well;
+that is to say, I am on snarling terms with him. But once he has settled
+in his cave he won't come out, even when I call him Zadkiel.
+
+[Illustration: THE EAGLE-OWLS' RETREAT.]
+
+There is nothing much more grotesque than a row of small barn owls, just
+awakened from sleep and curious about the disturber. There is something
+about the odd gaze and twist of the neck that irresistibly reminds me of
+an illustration in an Old Saxon or Early English manuscript.
+
+[Illustration: SLEEP.]
+
+[Illustration: WHO SAID RATS?]
+
+[Illustration: THE ANGOLA.]
+
+I am not particularly friendly with any of the vultures. Walk past their
+cages with the determination to ingratiate yourself with them. You will
+change your mind. There are very few birds that I should not like to
+keep as pets if I had the room, but the vulture is the first of them. I
+don't know any kind of vulture whose personal appearance wouldn't hang
+him at a court of Judge Lynch. The least unpleasant-looking of the lot
+is the little Angola vulture, who is put among the kites; and she is bad
+enough: a horrible eighteenth-century painted and powdered old woman; a
+Pompadour of ninety. The large bearded vulture is not only an
+uncompanionable fellow to look at, but he doesn't behave respectably. It
+is not respectable to hurl yourself bodily against anybody looking over
+a precipice and unaware of your presence, so as to break him up on the
+rocks below, and dine off his prime cuts. I have no doubt that
+Self--(Self, by-the-bye, keeps eagles and vultures as well as
+camels)--has any amount of sympathy for his charges, but who _could_
+make a pet of a turkey-vulture, with its nasty, raw-looking red head, or
+of a cinereous vulture, with its unwholesome eyes and its
+unclean-looking blue wattle? No, I am not over-fond of a vulture. He is
+always a dissipated-looking ruffian, of boiled eye and blotchy
+complexion, and you know as you look at him that he would prefer to see
+you dead rather than alive, so that he might safely take your eyes by
+way of an appetizer, and forthwith proceed to lift away your softer
+pieces preparatory to strolling under your ribs like a jackdaw in a cage
+much too small. He sits there placid, unwinsome, and patient; waiting
+for you to die. But he has his little vanities. He is tremendously
+proud of his wings--and they certainly are wings to astonish. On a warm
+day he likes to open them for coolness, but often he makes this a mere
+excuse for showing off. He waits till some easily-impressed visitor
+comes along--not a regular frequenter. Then he stands up and spreads his
+great pinions abroad, and perhaps turns about, and the visitor is duly
+impressed. So the vulture stands and receives the admiration, hoping the
+while that the visitor has heart disease, and will drop dead where he
+stands. And when the visitor walks off without dying the old harpy lets
+his wings fall open, ready for somebody else.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+_The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes._
+
+XIX.--THE ADVENTURE OF THE REIGATE SQUIRE.
+
+BY A. CONAN DOYLE.
+
+
+It was some time before the health of my friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes,
+recovered from the strain caused by his immense exertions in the spring
+of '87. The whole question of the Netherland-Sumatra Company and of the
+colossal schemes of Baron Maupertins are too recent in the minds of the
+public, and are too intimately concerned with politics and finance, to
+be fitting subjects for this series of sketches. They led, however, in
+an indirect fashion to a singular and complex problem, which gave my
+friend an opportunity of demonstrating the value of a fresh weapon among
+the many with which he waged his life-long battle against crime.
+
+On referring to my notes, I see that it was upon the 14th of April that
+I received a telegram from Lyons, which informed me that Holmes was
+lying ill in the Hotel Dulong. Within twenty-four hours I was in his
+sick room, and was relieved to find that there was nothing formidable in
+his symptoms. His iron constitution, however, had broken down under the
+strain of an investigation which had extended over two months, during
+which period he had never worked less than fifteen hours a day, and had
+more than once, as he assured me, kept to his task for five days at a
+stretch. The triumphant issue of his labours could not save him from
+reaction after so terrible an exertion, and at a time when Europe was
+ringing with his name, and when his room was literally ankle-deep with
+congratulatory telegrams, I found him a prey to the blackest depression.
+Even the knowledge that he had succeeded where the police of three
+countries had failed, and that he had out-manoeuvred at every point
+the most accomplished swindler in Europe, were insufficient to rouse him
+from his nervous prostration.
+
+Three days later we were back in Baker Street together, but it was
+evident that my friend would be much the better for a change, and the
+thought of a week of spring-time in the country was full of attractions
+to me also. My old friend Colonel Hayter, who had come under my
+professional care in Afghanistan, had now taken a house near Reigate, in
+Surrey, and had frequently asked me to come down to him upon a visit. On
+the last occasion he had remarked that if my friend would only come with
+me, he would be glad to extend his hospitality to him also. A little
+diplomacy was needed, but when Holmes understood that the establishment
+was a bachelor one, and that he would be allowed the fullest freedom, he
+fell in with my plans, and a week after our return from Lyons we were
+under the Colonel's roof. Hayter was a fine old soldier, who had seen
+much of the world, and he soon found, as I had expected, that Holmes and
+he had plenty in common.
+
+On the evening of our arrival we were sitting in the Colonel's gun-room
+after dinner, Holmes stretched upon the sofa, while Hayter and I looked
+over his little armoury of fire-arms.
+
+"By the way," said he, suddenly, "I think I'll take one of these pistols
+upstairs with me in case we have an alarm."
+
+"An alarm!" said I.
+
+"Yes, we've had a scare in this part lately. Old Acton, who is one of
+our county magnates, had his house broken into last Monday. No great
+damage done, but the fellows are still at large."
+
+"No clue?" asked Holmes, cocking his eye at the Colonel.
+
+"None as yet. But the affair is a petty one, one of our little country
+crimes, which must seem too small for your attention, Mr. Holmes, after
+this great international affair."
+
+Holmes waved away the compliment, though his smile showed that it had
+pleased him.
+
+"Was there any feature of interest?"
+
+"I fancy not. The thieves ransacked the library and got very little for
+their pains. The whole place was turned upside down, drawers burst open
+and presses ransacked, with the result that an odd volume of Pope's
+'Homer,' two plated candlesticks, an ivory letter-weight, a small oak
+barometer, and a ball of twine, are all that have vanished."
+
+"What an extraordinary assortment!" I exclaimed.
+
+"Oh, the fellows evidently grabbed hold of anything they could get."
+
+Holmes grunted from the sofa.
+
+"The county police ought to make something of that," said he. "Why, it
+is surely obvious that----"
+
+But I held up a warning finger.
+
+[Illustration: "I HELD UP A WARNING FINGER."]
+
+"You are here for a rest, my dear fellow. For Heaven's sake, don't get
+started on a new problem when your nerves are all in shreds."
+
+Holmes shrugged his shoulders with a glance of comic resignation towards
+the Colonel, and the talk drifted away into less dangerous channels.
+
+It was destined, however, that all my professional caution should be
+wasted, for next morning the problem obtruded itself upon us in such a
+way that it was impossible to ignore it, and our country visit took a
+turn which neither of us could have anticipated. We were at breakfast
+when the Colonel's butler rushed in with all his propriety shaken out of
+him.
+
+"Have you heard the news, sir?" he gasped. "At the Cunningham's, sir!"
+
+"Burglary!" cried the Colonel, with his coffee cup in mid air.
+
+"Murder!"
+
+The Colonel whistled. "By Jove!" said he, "who's killed, then? The J.P.
+or his son?"
+
+"Neither, sir. It was William, the coachman. Shot through the heart,
+sir, and never spoke again."
+
+"Who shot him, then?"
+
+"The burglar, sir. He was off like a shot and got clean away. He'd just
+broke in at the pantry window when William came on him and met his end
+in saving his master's property."
+
+"What time?"
+
+"It was last night, sir, somewhere about twelve."
+
+"Ah, then, we'll step over presently," said the Colonel, coolly settling
+down to his breakfast again. "It's a baddish business," he added, when
+the butler had gone. "He's our leading squire about here, is old
+Cunningham, and a very decent fellow too. He'll be cut up over this, for
+the man has been in his service for years, and was a good servant. It's
+evidently the same villains who broke into Acton's."
+
+"And stole that very singular collection?" said Holmes, thoughtfully.
+
+"Precisely."
+
+"Hum! It may prove the simplest matter in the world; but, all the same,
+at first glance this is just a little curious, is it not? A gang of
+burglars acting in the country might be expected to vary the scene of
+their operations, and not to crack two cribs in the same district within
+a few days. When you spoke last night of taking precautions, I remember
+that it passed through my mind that this was probably the last parish
+in England to which the thief or thieves would be likely to turn their
+attention; which shows that I have still much to learn."
+
+"I fancy it's some local practitioner," said the Colonel. "In that case,
+of course, Acton's and Cunningham's are just the places he would go for,
+since they are far the largest about here."
+
+"And richest?"
+
+"Well, they ought to be; but they've had a law-suit for some years which
+has sucked the blood out of both of them, I fancy. Old Acton has some
+claim on half Cunningham's estate, and the lawyers have been at it with
+both hands."
+
+"If it's a local villain, there should not be much difficulty in running
+him down," said Holmes, with a yawn. "All right, Watson, I don't intend
+to meddle."
+
+"Inspector Forrester, sir," said the butler, throwing open the door.
+
+The official, a smart, keen-faced young fellow, stepped into the room.
+"Good morning, Colonel," said he. "I hope I don't intrude, but we hear
+that Mr. Holmes, of Baker Street, is here."
+
+The Colonel waved his hand towards my friend, and the Inspector bowed.
+
+"We thought that perhaps you would care to step across, Mr. Holmes."
+
+"The Fates are against you, Watson," said he, laughing. "We were
+chatting about the matter when you came in, Inspector. Perhaps you can
+let us have a few details." As he leaned back in his chair in the
+familiar attitude, I knew that the case was hopeless.
+
+[Illustration: "INSPECTOR FORRESTER."]
+
+"We had no clue in the Acton affair. But here we have plenty to go on,
+and there's no doubt it is the same party in each case. The man was
+seen."
+
+"Ah!"
+
+"Yes, sir. But he was off like a deer after the shot that killed poor
+William Kirwan was fired. Mr. Cunningham saw him from the bedroom
+window, and Mr. Alec Cunningham saw him from the back passage. It was a
+quarter to twelve when the alarm broke out. Mr. Cunningham had just got
+into bed, and Mister Alec was smoking a pipe in his dressing-gown. They
+both heard William, the coachman, calling for help, and Mister Alec he
+ran down to see what was the matter. The back door was open, and as he
+came to the foot of the stairs he saw two men wrestling together
+outside. One of them fired a shot, the other dropped, and the murderer
+rushed across the garden and over the hedge. Mr. Cunningham, looking out
+of his bedroom window, saw the fellow as he gained the road, but lost
+sight of him at once. Mister Alec stopped to see if he could help the
+dying man, and so the villain got clean away. Beyond the fact that he
+was a middle-sized man, and dressed in some dark stuff, we have no
+personal clue, but we are making energetic inquiries, and if he is a
+stranger we shall soon find him out."
+
+"What was this William doing there? Did he say anything before he died?"
+
+"Not a word. He lives at the lodge with his mother, and as he was a very
+faithful fellow, we imagine that he walked up to the house with the
+intention of seeing that all was right there. Of course, this Acton
+business has put everyone on their guard. The robber must have just
+burst open the door--the lock has been forced--when William came upon
+him."
+
+"Did William say anything to his mother before going out?"
+
+"She is very old and deaf, and we can get no information from her. The
+shock has made her half-witted, but I understand that she was never very
+bright. There is one very important circumstance, however. Look at
+this!"
+
+He took a small piece of torn paper from a note-book and spread it out
+upon his knee.
+
+"This was found between the finger and thumb of the dead man. It appears
+to be a fragment torn from a larger sheet. You will observe that the
+hour mentioned upon it is the very time at which the poor fellow met his
+fate. You see that his murderer might have torn the rest of the sheet
+from him or he might have taken this fragment from the murderer. It
+reads almost as though it was an appointment."
+
+Holmes took up the scrap of paper, a facsimile of which is here
+reproduced:--
+
+[Illustration: at quarterto twelve learn what maybe]
+
+"Presuming that it is an appointment," continued the Inspector, "it is,
+of course, a conceivable theory that this William Kirwan, although he
+had the reputation of being an honest man, may have been in league with
+the thief. He may have met him there, may even have helped him to break
+in the door, and then they may have fallen out between themselves."
+
+"This writing is of extraordinary interest," said Holmes, who had been
+examining it with intense concentration. "These are much deeper waters
+than I had thought." He sank his head upon his hands, while the
+Inspector smiled at the effect which his case had had upon the famous
+London specialist.
+
+"Your last remark," said Holmes, presently, "as to the possibility of
+there being an understanding between the burglar and the servant, and
+this being a note of appointment from one to the other, is an ingenious
+and not entirely an impossible supposition. But this writing opens
+up----" he sank his head into his hands again and remained for some
+minutes in the deepest thought. When he raised his face again I was
+surprised to see that his cheek was tinged with colour and his eyes as
+bright as before his illness. He sprang to his feet with all his old
+energy.
+
+"I'll tell you what!" said he. "I should like to have a quiet little
+glance into the details of this case. There is something in it which
+fascinates me extremely. If you will permit me, Colonel, I will leave my
+friend, Watson, and you, and I will step round with the Inspector to
+test the truth of one or two little fancies of mine. I will be with you
+again in half an hour."
+
+An hour and a half had elapsed before the Inspector returned alone.
+
+"Mr. Holmes is walking up and down in the field outside," said he. "He
+wants us all four to go up to the house together."
+
+"To Mr. Cunningham's?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"What for?"
+
+The Inspector shrugged his shoulders. "I don't quite know, sir. Between
+ourselves, I think Mr. Holmes has not quite got over his illness yet.
+He's been behaving very queerly, and he is very much excited."
+
+"I don't think you need alarm yourself," said I. "I have usually found
+that there was method in his madness."
+
+"Some folk might say there was madness in his method," muttered the
+Inspector. "But he's all on fire to start, Colonel, so we had best go
+out, if you are ready."
+
+We found Holmes pacing up and down in the field, his chin sunk upon his
+breast, and his hands thrust into his trouser pockets.
+
+"The matter grows in interest," said he. "Watson, your country trip has
+been a distinct success. I have had a charming morning."
+
+"You have been up to the scene of the crime, I understand?" said the
+Colonel.
+
+"Yes; the Inspector and I have made quite a little reconnaissance
+together."
+
+"Any success?"
+
+"Well, we have seen some very interesting things. I'll tell you what we
+did as we walk. First of all we saw the body of this unfortunate man. He
+certainly died from a revolver wound, as reported."
+
+"Had you doubted it, then?"
+
+"Oh, it is as well to test everything. Our inspection was not wasted. We
+then had an interview with Mr. Cunningham and his son, who were able to
+point out the exact spot where the murderer had broken through the
+garden hedge in his flight. That was of great interest."
+
+"Naturally."
+
+"Then we had a look at this poor fellow's mother. We could get no
+information from her, however, as she is very old and feeble."
+
+"And what is the result of your investigations?"
+
+"The conviction that the crime is a very peculiar one. Perhaps our visit
+now may do something to make it less obscure. I think that we are both
+agreed, Inspector, that the fragment of paper in the dead man's hand,
+bearing, as it does, the very hour of his death written upon it, is of
+extreme importance."
+
+"It should give a clue, Mr. Holmes."
+
+"It _does_ give a clue. Whoever wrote that note was the man who brought
+William Kirwan out of his bed at that hour. But where is the rest of
+that sheet of paper?"
+
+"I examined the ground carefully in the hope of finding it," said the
+Inspector.
+
+"It was torn out of the dead man's hand. Why was someone so anxious to
+get possession of it? Because it incriminated him. And what would he do
+with it? Thrust it into his pocket most likely, never noticing that a
+corner of it had been left in the grip of the corpse. If we could get
+the rest of that sheet, it is obvious that we should have gone a long
+way towards solving the mystery."
+
+"Yes, but how can we get at the criminal's pocket before we catch the
+criminal?"
+
+"Well, well, it was worth thinking over. Then there is another obvious
+point. The note was sent to William. The man who wrote it could not have
+taken it, otherwise of course he might have delivered his own message by
+word of mouth. Who brought the note, then? Or did it come through the
+post?"
+
+"I have made inquiries," said the Inspector. "William received a letter
+by the afternoon post yesterday. The envelope was destroyed by him."
+
+"Excellent!" cried Holmes, clapping the Inspector on the back. "You've
+seen the postman. It is a pleasure to work with you. Well, here is the
+lodge, and if you will come up, Colonel, I will show you the scene of
+the crime."
+
+We passed the pretty cottage where the murdered man had lived, and
+walked up an oak-lined avenue to the fine old Queen Anne house, which
+bears the date of Malplaquet upon the lintel of the door. Holmes and the
+Inspector led us round it until we came to the side gate, which is
+separated by a stretch of garden from the hedge which lines the road. A
+constable was standing at the kitchen door.
+
+"Throw the door open, officer," said Holmes. "Now it was on those stairs
+that young Mr. Cunningham stood and saw the two men struggling just
+where we are. Old Mr. Cunningham was at that window--the second on the
+left--and he saw the fellow get away just to the left of that bush. So
+did the son. They are both sure of it, on account of the bush. Then
+Mister Alec ran out and knelt beside the wounded man. The ground is very
+hard, you see, and there are no marks to guide us."
+
+As he spoke two men came down the garden path, from round the angle of
+the house. The one was an elderly man, with a strong, deep-lined,
+heavy-eyed face; the other a dashing young fellow, whose bright, smiling
+expression and showy dress were in strange contrast with the business
+which had brought us there.
+
+"Still at it, then?" said he to Holmes. "I thought you Londoners were
+never at fault. You don't seem to be so very quick, after all."
+
+"Ah! you must give us a little time," said Holmes, good-humouredly.
+
+"You'll want it," said young Alec Cunningham. "Why, I don't see that we
+have any clue at all."
+
+"There's only one," answered the Inspector. "We thought that if we could
+only find----Good heavens! Mr. Holmes, what is the matter?"
+
+My poor friend's face had suddenly assumed the most dreadful expression.
+His eyes rolled upwards, his features writhed in agony, and with a
+suppressed groan he dropped on his face upon the ground. Horrified at
+the suddenness and severity of the attack, we carried him into the
+kitchen, where he lay back in a large chair and breathed heavily for
+some minutes. Finally, with a shame-faced apology for his weakness, he
+rose once more.
+
+"Watson would tell you that I have only just recovered from a severe
+illness," he explained. "I am liable to these sudden nervous attacks."
+
+"Shall I send you home in my trap?" asked old Cunningham.
+
+"Well, since I am here, there is one point on which I should like to
+feel sure. We can very easily verify it."
+
+"What is it?"
+
+"Well, it seems to me that it is just possible that the arrival of this
+poor fellow William was not before but after the entrance of the burglar
+into the house. You appear to take it for granted that although the door
+was forced the robber never got in."
+
+[Illustration: "GOOD HEAVENS! WHAT IS THE MATTER?"]
+
+"I fancy that is quite obvious," said Mr. Cunningham, gravely. "Why, my
+son Alec had not yet gone to bed, and he would certainly have heard
+anyone moving about."
+
+"Where was he sitting?"
+
+"I was sitting smoking in my dressing-room."
+
+"Which window is that?"
+
+"The last on the left, next my father's."
+
+"Both your lamps were lit, of course?"
+
+"Undoubtedly."
+
+"There are some very singular points here," said Holmes, smiling. "Is it
+not extraordinary that a burglar--and a burglar who had had some
+previous experience--should deliberately break into a house at a time
+when he could see from the lights that two of the family were still
+afoot?"
+
+"He must have been a cool hand."
+
+"Well, of course, if the case were not an odd one we should not have
+been driven to ask you for an explanation," said Mister Alec. "But as to
+your idea that the man had robbed the house before William tackled him,
+I think it a most absurd notion. Shouldn't we have found the place
+disarranged and missed the things which he had taken?"
+
+"It depends on what the things were," said Holmes. "You must remember
+that we are dealing with a burglar who is a very peculiar fellow, and
+who appears to work on lines of his own. Look, for example, at the queer
+lot of things which he took from Acton's--what was it?--a ball of
+string, a letter-weight, and I don't know what other odds and ends!"
+
+"Well, we are quite in your hands, Mr. Holmes," said old Cunningham.
+"Anything which you or the Inspector may suggest will most certainly be
+done."
+
+"In the first place," said Holmes, "I should like you to offer a
+reward--coming from yourself, for the officials may take a little time
+before they would agree upon the sum, and these things cannot be done
+too promptly. I have jotted down the form here, if you would not mind
+signing it. Fifty pounds was quite enough, I thought."
+
+"I would willingly give five hundred," said the J.P., taking the slip of
+paper and the pencil which Holmes handed to him. "This is not quite
+correct, however," he added, glancing over the document.
+
+"I wrote it rather hurriedly."
+
+"You see you begin: 'Whereas, at about a quarter to one on Tuesday
+morning, an attempt was made'--and so on. It was at a quarter to twelve,
+as a matter of fact."
+
+I was pained at the mistake, for I knew how keenly Holmes would feel any
+slip of the kind. It was his speciality to be accurate as to fact, but
+his recent illness had shaken him, and this one little incident was
+enough to show me that he was still far from being himself. He was
+obviously embarrassed for an instant, while the Inspector raised his
+eyebrows and Alec Cunningham burst into a laugh. The old gentleman
+corrected the mistake, however, and handed the paper back to Holmes.
+
+"Get it printed as soon as possible," he said. "I think your idea is an
+excellent one."
+
+Holmes put the slip of paper carefully away in his pocket-book.
+
+"And now," said he, "it would really be a good thing that we should all
+go over the house together and make certain that this rather erratic
+burglar did not, after all, carry anything away with him."
+
+Before entering. Holmes made an examination of the door which had been
+forced. It was evident that a chisel or strong knife had been thrust in,
+and the lock forced back with it. We could see the marks in the wood
+where it had been pushed in.
+
+"You don't use bars, then?" he asked.
+
+"We have never found it necessary."
+
+"You don't keep a dog?"
+
+"Yes; but he is chained on the other side of the house."
+
+"When do the servants go to bed?"
+
+"About ten."
+
+"I understand that William was usually in bed also at that hour?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"It is singular that on this particular night he should have been up.
+Now, I should be very glad if you would have the kindness to show us
+over the house, Mr. Cunningham."
+
+A stone-flagged passage, with the kitchens branching away from it, led
+by a wooden staircase directly to the first floor of the house. It came
+out upon the landing opposite to a second more ornamental stair which
+led up from the front hall. Out of this landing opened the drawing-room
+and several bedrooms, including those of Mr. Cunningham and his son.
+Holmes walked slowly, taking keen note of the architecture of the house.
+I could tell from his expression that he was on a hot scent, and yet I
+could not in the least imagine in what direction his inferences were
+leading him.
+
+"My good sir," said Mr. Cunningham, with some impatience, "this is
+surely very unnecessary. That is my room at the end of the stairs, and
+my son's is the one beyond it. I leave it to your judgment whether it
+was possible for the thief to have come up here without disturbing us."
+
+"You must try round and get on a fresh scent, I fancy," said the son,
+with a rather malicious smile.
+
+"Still, I must ask you to humour me a little further. I should like, for
+example, to see how far the windows of the bedrooms command the front.
+This, I understand, is your son's room"--he pushed open the door--"and
+that, I presume, is the dressing-room in which he sat smoking when the
+alarm was given. Where does the window of that look out to?" He stepped
+across the bedroom, pushed open the door, and glanced round the other
+chamber.
+
+"I hope you are satisfied now?" said Mr. Cunningham, testily.
+
+"Thank you; I think I have seen all that I wished."
+
+"Then, if it is really necessary, we can go into my room."
+
+"If it is not too much trouble."
+
+The J.P. shrugged his shoulders, and led the way into his own chamber,
+which was a plainly furnished and commonplace room. As we moved across
+it in the direction of the window, Holmes fell back until he and I were
+the last of the group. Near the foot of the bed was a small square
+table, on which stood a dish of oranges and a carafe of water. As we
+passed it, Holmes, to my unutterable astonishment, leaned over in front
+of me and deliberately knocked the whole thing over. The glass smashed
+into a thousand pieces, and the fruit rolled about into every corner of
+the room.
+
+[Illustration: "HE DELIBERATELY KNOCKED THE WHOLE THING OVER."]
+
+"You've done it now, Watson," said he, coolly. "A pretty mess you've
+made of the carpet."
+
+I stooped in some confusion and began to pick up the fruit,
+understanding that for some reason my companion desired me to take the
+blame upon myself. The others did the same, and set the table on its
+legs again.
+
+"Halloa!" cried the Inspector, "where's he got to?"
+
+Holmes had disappeared.
+
+"Wait here an instant," said young Alec Cunningham. "The fellow is off
+his head, in my opinion. Come with me, father, and see where he has got
+to!"
+
+They rushed out of the room, leaving the Inspector, the Colonel, and me
+staring at each other.
+
+"'Pon my word, I am inclined to agree with Mister Alec," said the
+official. "It may be the effect of this illness, but it seems to me
+that----"
+
+His words were cut short by a sudden scream of "Help! Help! Murder!"
+With a thrill I recognised the voice as that of my friend. I rushed
+madly from the room on to the landing. The cries, which had sunk down
+into a hoarse, inarticulate shouting, came from the room which we had
+first visited. I dashed in, and on into the dressing-room beyond. The
+two Cunninghams were bending over the prostrate figure of Sherlock
+Holmes, the younger clutching his throat with both hands, while the
+elder seemed to be twisting one of his wrists. In an instant the three
+of us had torn them away from him, and Holmes staggered to his feet,
+very pale, and evidently greatly exhausted.
+
+"Arrest these men, Inspector," he gasped.
+
+"On what charge?"
+
+"That of murdering their coachman, William Kirwan!"
+
+The Inspector stared about him in bewilderment. "Oh, come now, Mr.
+Holmes," said he at last; "I am sure you don't really mean to----"
+
+"Tut, man; look at their faces!" cried Holmes, curtly.
+
+Never, certainly, have I seen a plainer confession of guilt upon human
+countenances. The older man seemed numbed and dazed, with a heavy,
+sullen expression upon his strongly-marked face. The son, on the other
+hand, had dropped all that jaunty, dashing style which had characterized
+him, and the ferocity of a dangerous wild beast gleamed in his dark eyes
+and distorted his handsome features. The Inspector said nothing, but,
+stepping to the door, he blew his whistle. Two of his constables came at
+the call.
+
+"I have no alternative, Mr. Cunningham," said he. "I trust that this may
+all prove to be an absurd mistake; but you can see that----Ah, would
+you? Drop it!" He struck out with his hand, and a revolver, which the
+younger man was in the act of cocking, clattered down upon the floor.
+
+[Illustration: "BENDING OVER THE PROSTRATE FIGURE OF SHERLOCK HOLMES."]
+
+"Keep that," said Holmes, quickly putting his foot upon it. "You will
+find it useful at the trial. But this is what we really wanted." He held
+up a little crumpled piece of paper.
+
+"The remainder of the sheet!" cried the Inspector.
+
+"Precisely."
+
+"And where was it?"
+
+"Where I was sure it must be. I'll make the whole matter clear to you
+presently. I think, Colonel, that you and Watson might return now, and I
+will be with you again in an hour at the furthest. The Inspector and I
+must have a word with the prisoners; but you will certainly see me back
+at luncheon time."
+
+Sherlock Holmes was as good as his word, for about one o'clock he
+rejoined us in the Colonel's smoking-room. He was accompanied by a
+little, elderly gentleman, who was introduced to me as the Mr. Acton
+whose house had been the scene of the original burglary.
+
+"I wished Mr. Acton to be present while I demonstrated this small matter
+to you," said Holmes, "for it is natural that he should take a keen
+interest in the details. I am afraid, my dear Colonel, that you must
+regret the hour that you took in such a stormy petrel as I am."
+
+"On the contrary," answered the Colonel, warmly, "I consider it the
+greatest privilege to have been permitted to study your methods of
+working. I confess that they quite surpass my expectations, and that I
+am utterly unable to account for your result. I have not yet seen the
+vestige of a clue."
+
+"I am afraid that my explanation may disillusionize you, but it has
+always been my habit to hide none of my methods, either from my friend
+Watson or from anyone who might take an intelligent interest in them.
+But first, as I am rather shaken by the knocking about which I had in
+the dressing-room, I think that I shall help myself to a dash of your
+brandy, Colonel. My strength has been rather tried of late."
+
+"I trust you had no more of those nervous attacks."
+
+Sherlock Holmes laughed heartily. "We will come to that in its turn,"
+said he. "I will lay an account of the case before you in its due order,
+showing you the various points which guided me in my decision. Pray
+interrupt me if there is any inference which is not perfectly clear to
+you.
+
+"It is of the highest importance in the art of detection to be able to
+recognise out of a number of facts which are incidental and which vital.
+Otherwise your energy and attention must be dissipated instead of being
+concentrated. Now, in this case there was not the slightest doubt in my
+mind from the first that the key of the whole matter must be looked for
+in the scrap of paper in the dead man's hand.
+
+"Before going into this I would draw your attention to the fact that if
+Alec Cunningham's narrative was correct, and if the assailant after
+shooting William Kirwan had _instantly_ fled, then it obviously could
+not be he who tore the paper from the dead man's hand. But if it was not
+he, it must have been Alec Cunningham himself, for by the time that the
+old man had descended several servants were upon the scene. The point is
+a simple one, but the Inspector had overlooked it because he had started
+with the supposition that these county magnates had had nothing to do
+with the matter. Now, I make a point of never having any prejudices and
+of following docilely wherever fact may lead me, and so in the very
+first stage of the investigation I found myself looking a little askance
+at the part which had been played by Mr. Alec Cunningham.
+
+[Illustration: "THE POINT IS A SIMPLE ONE."]
+
+"And now I made a very careful examination of the corner of paper which
+the Inspector had submitted to us. It was at once clear to me that it
+formed part of a very remarkable document. Here it is. Do you not now
+observe something very suggestive about it?"
+
+"It has a very irregular look," said the Colonel.
+
+"My dear sir," cried Holmes, "there cannot be the least doubt in the
+world that it has been written by two persons doing alternate words.
+When I draw your attention to the strong t's of 'at' and 'to' and ask
+you to compare them with the weak ones of 'quarter' and 'twelve,' you
+will instantly recognise the fact. A very brief analysis of those four
+words would enable you to say with the utmost confidence that the
+'learn' and the 'maybe' are written in the stronger hand, and the 'what'
+in the weaker."
+
+"By Jove, it's as clear as day!" cried the Colonel. "Why on earth should
+two men write a letter in such a fashion?"
+
+"Obviously the business was a bad one, and one of the men who distrusted
+the other was determined that, whatever was done, each should have an
+equal hand in it. Now, of the two men it is clear that the one who wrote
+the 'at' and 'to' was the ring-leader."
+
+"How do you get at that?"
+
+"We might deduce it from the mere character of the one hand as compared
+with the other. But we have more assured reasons than that for supposing
+it. If you examine this scrap with attention you will come to the
+conclusion that the man with the stronger hand wrote all his words
+first, leaving blanks for the other to fill up. These blanks were not
+always sufficient, and you can see that the second man had a squeeze to
+fit his 'quarter' in between the 'at' and the 'to,' showing that the
+latter were already written. The man who wrote all his words first is
+undoubtedly the man who planned this affair."
+
+"Excellent!" cried Mr. Acton.
+
+"But very superficial," said Holmes. "We come now, however, to a point
+which is of importance. You may not be aware that the deduction of a
+man's age from his writing is one which has been brought to considerable
+accuracy by experts. In normal cases one can place a man in his true
+decade with tolerable confidence. I say normal cases, because ill-health
+and physical weakness reproduce the signs of old age, even when the
+invalid is a youth. In this case, looking at the bold, strong hand of
+the one, and the rather broken-backed appearance of the other, which
+still retains its legibility, although the t's have begun to lose their
+crossings, we can say that the one was a young man, and the other was
+advanced in years without being positively decrepit."
+
+"Excellent!" cried Mr. Acton again.
+
+"There is a further point, however, which is subtler and of greater
+interest. There is something in common between these hands. They belong
+to men who are blood-relatives. It may be most obvious to you in the
+Greek e's, but to me there are many small points which indicate the same
+thing. I have no doubt at all that a family mannerism can be traced in
+these two specimens of writing. I am only, of course, giving you the
+leading results now of my examination of the paper. There were
+twenty-three other deductions which would be of more interest to experts
+than to you. They all tended to deepen the impression upon my mind that
+the Cunninghams, father and son, had written this letter.
+
+"Having got so far, my next step was, of course, to examine into the
+details of the crime and to see how far they would help us. I went up to
+the house with the Inspector, and saw all that was to be seen. The wound
+upon the dead man was, as I was able to determine with absolute
+confidence, fired from a revolver at the distance of something over four
+yards. There was no powder-blackening on the clothes. Evidently,
+therefore, Alec Cunningham had lied when he said that the two men were
+struggling when the shot was fired. Again, both father and son agreed as
+to the place where the man escaped into the road. At that point,
+however, as it happens, there is a broadish ditch, moist at the bottom.
+As there were no indications of boot-marks about this ditch, I was
+absolutely sure not only that the Cunninghams had again lied, but that
+there had never been any unknown man upon the scene at all.
+
+"And now I had to consider the motive of this singular crime. To get at
+this I endeavoured first of all to solve the reason of the original
+burglary at Mr. Acton's. I understood from something which the Colonel
+told us that a law-suit, had been going on between you, Mr. Acton, and
+the Cunninghams. Of course, it instantly occurred to me that they had
+broken into your library with the intention of getting at some document
+which might be of importance in the case."
+
+"Precisely so," said Mr. Acton; "there can be no possible doubt as to
+their intentions. I have the clearest claim upon half their present
+estate, and if they could have found a single paper--which, fortunately,
+was in the strong box of my solicitors--they would undoubtedly have
+crippled our case."
+
+[Illustration: "THERE WAS NO POWDER-BLACKENING ON THE CLOTHES."]
+
+"There you are!" said Holmes, smiling. "It was a dangerous, reckless
+attempt in which I seem to trace the influence of young Alec. Having
+found nothing, they tried to divert suspicion by making it appear to be
+an ordinary burglary, to which end they carried off whatever they could
+lay their hands upon. That is all clear enough, but there was much that
+was still obscure. What I wanted above all was to get the missing part
+of that note. I was certain that Alec had torn it out of the dead man's
+hand, and almost certain that he must have thrust it into the pocket of
+his dressing-gown. Where else could he have put it? The only question
+was whether it was still there. It was worth an effort to find out, and
+for that object we all went up to the house.
+
+"The Cunninghams joined us, as you doubtless remember, outside the
+kitchen door. It was, of course, of the very first importance that they
+should not be reminded of the existence of this paper, otherwise they
+would naturally destroy it without delay. The Inspector was about to
+tell them the importance which we attached to it when, by the luckiest
+chance in the world, I tumbled down in a sort of fit and so changed the
+conversation."
+
+"Good heavens!" cried the Colonel, laughing. "Do you mean to say all our
+sympathy was wasted and your fit an imposture?"
+
+"Speaking professionally, it was admirably done," cried I, looking in
+amazement at this man who was for ever confounding me with some new
+phase of his astuteness.
+
+"It is an art which is often useful," said he. "When I recovered I
+managed by a device, which had, perhaps, some little merit of ingenuity,
+to get old Cunningham to write the word 'twelve,' so that I might
+compare it with the 'twelve' upon the paper."
+
+"Oh, what an ass I have been!" I exclaimed.
+
+"I could see that you were commiserating with me over my weakness," said
+Holmes, laughing. "I was sorry to cause you the sympathetic pain which I
+know that you felt. We then went upstairs together, and having entered
+the room and seen the dressing-gown hanging up behind the door, I
+contrived by upsetting a table to engage their attention for the moment
+and slipped back to examine the pockets. I had hardly got the paper,
+however, which was, as I had expected, in one of them, when the two
+Cunninghams were on me, and would, I verily believe, have murdered me
+then and there but for your prompt and friendly aid. As it is, I feel
+that young man's grip on my throat now, and the father has twisted my
+wrist round in the effort to get the paper out of my hand. They saw that
+I must know all about it, you see, and the sudden change from absolute
+security to complete despair made them perfectly desperate.
+
+"I had a little talk with old Cunningham afterwards as to the motive of
+the crime. He was tractable enough, though his son was a perfect demon,
+ready to blow out his own or anybody else's brains if he could have got
+to his revolver. When Cunningham saw that the case against him was so
+strong he lost all heart, and made a clean breast of everything. It
+seems that William had secretly followed his two masters on the night
+when they made their raid upon Mr. Acton's, and, having thus got them
+into his power, proceeded under threats of exposure to levy blackmail
+upon them. Mister Alec, however, was a dangerous man to play games of
+that sort with. It was a stroke of positive genius on his part to see in
+the burglary scare, which was convulsing the country side, an
+opportunity of plausibly getting rid of the man whom he feared. William
+was decoyed up and shot; and, had they only got the whole of the note,
+and paid a little more attention to detail in their accessories, it is
+very possible that suspicion might never have been aroused."
+
+"And the note?" I asked.
+
+Sherlock Holmes placed the subjoined paper before us:--
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"It is very much the sort of thing that I expected," said he. "Of
+course, we do not yet know what the relations may have been between Alec
+Cunningham, William Kirwan, and Annie Morrison. The result shows that
+the trap was skilfully baited. I am sure that you cannot fail to be
+delighted with the traces of heredity shown in the p's and in the tails
+of the g's. The absence of the i-dots in the old man's writing is also
+most characteristic. Watson, I think our quiet rest in the country has
+been a distinct success, and I shall certainly return, much invigorated,
+to Baker Street to-morrow."
+
+
+
+
+_Beauties._
+
+
+[Illustration: _Miss Ella Banister._]
+
+[Illustration: _Miss A Hughes_]
+
+[Illustration: _Miss Alice Ravenscroft._]
+
+_From Photos. by Messrs. Bassano, Old Bond Street._
+
+[Illustration: _Miss Friend._
+
+_From a Photo. by W. & D. Downey._]
+
+[Illustration: _Miss C. L. Foote._
+
+_From a Photo. by W. & D. Downey._]
+
+[Illustration: _Mrs. Marsh._
+
+_From a Photo. by Messrs. Bassano, Old Bond Street._]
+
+[Illustration: _Miss Norah Williams._
+
+_From Photos. by Messrs. Bassano, Old Bond Street._]
+
+[Illustration: _Miss L. Harold._]
+
+[Illustration: _Lady Aberdeen._
+
+_Photo. by Barraud_]
+
+
+
+
+LIEUTENANT GAUTHIER
+
+By Jos� de Campos
+
+FROM THE FRENCH OF JOS� DE CAMPOS. AN EPISODE OF THE CRIMEAN WAR.
+APPROVED AND AUTHORIZED BY GENERAL SAUSSIER, MILITARY COMMANDER OF
+PARIS.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+Nicolas Gauthier, Sergeant-Major in the Foreign Legion, was about
+twenty-six years of age. He was strikingly handsome, with black hair and
+moustache and a pale complexion. His dark eyes were perhaps somewhat
+dreamy and intensely sad, but they had a certain expression of
+gentleness and candour which won all hearts.
+
+He was above the medium height, upright and broad-shouldered, and was
+altogether more fitted for a cuirassier than for a foot-soldier. As,
+however, he had entered the army from choice, it was for him to select
+the arms he preferred.
+
+He had undoubtedly military tastes, but he had evidently some family
+trouble or some love affair which had made him anxious to leave Paris
+and to go to Africa with the Foreign Legion (which, as everyone knows,
+is always the first regiment to be called out in case of war).
+
+He had been in the garrison at Constantine, and while there had been a
+great favourite with all the ladies, and the men had envied him.
+
+It could scarcely be wondered at, for he was so handsome, and then, too,
+he had such a martial bearing and such pleasant, attractive manners.
+
+All the sensation he caused was lost upon him, for he did not even seem
+to notice it himself.
+
+He was a good soldier: subordinate to his superiors, and always
+indulgent to the men under his command, and, consequently, a great
+favourite in the Legion.
+
+When Napoleon III. was reviewing the troops, he noticed Gauthier, who
+was at that time only a sub-officer. He made inquiries about him, and a
+fortnight later Gauthier was appointed sergeant-major.
+
+It was evident that some great sorrow was weighing on him, for when he
+was free from his military duties, instead of going out with his
+comrades to any places of amusement, he would go off by himself for
+long, solitary walks.
+
+Several times, on seeing him strolling along far from the walls of the
+city, the other officers had warned him of the risk he ran of being
+surprised by one of those bands of Arabs who wander about outside the
+Algerian cities, and who take their revenge on any European who falls
+into their hands for the yoke that has been put on to them.
+
+Sergeant Gauthier took very little notice of these warnings. He loved
+solitude and was perfectly fearless. No one knew why he was so sad.
+Certainly he had lately lost his mother, and still wore a badge of crape
+on his arm. Of course, this had increased his melancholy, but it was not
+the original cause of it.
+
+The war with Russia had just been declared. Gauthier, like a great many
+other officers and sub-officers, was tired of the monotony of garrison
+life, and volunteered to join the regiments which were to be sent to the
+Crimea. The Minister of War dispatched the Foreign Legion, to the great
+joy of Gauthier. His brother officers noticed that he was almost gay,
+not at all like his former self.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+He soon distinguished himself; was always foremost in the fight. His
+courage and _sang-froid_ won the admiration of all. He was wounded, but
+he cared little for that; and shortly after he was promoted to the rank
+of sub-lieutenant.
+
+Gauthier was very intimate with Lieutenant Saussier, another hero who
+had gone through the "baptism of fire" in Africa, and whose great valour
+and integrity have won for him the high office he now holds.
+
+These two soldiers were of the same metal: they were able to understand
+and appreciate each other, and were almost inseparable.
+
+One day during the siege of Sebastopol, Lieutenant Saussier said to his
+friend:--
+
+"Gauthier, may I ask you a question?"
+
+"Two questions, if you like."
+
+"You won't think it mere curiosity?"
+
+"Are we not friends, Saussier?"
+
+"Yes, but perhaps this is a secret----"
+
+"I have only one secret in the world, and as you do not know _that_ and
+could not even have an idea of it, there is no fear, so you can speak
+out."
+
+"Well, will you tell me what is the cause of your sadness, I might
+almost say bitterness? When we left Africa I thought you had left it
+behind you; but now in Russia it is worse than ever."
+
+At this unexpected question Gauthier started, then trying to smile he
+answered:--
+
+"It must be a kind of complaint born in me, and perhaps the change of
+climate aggravates it."
+
+"Perhaps so," said Lieutenant Saussier, slowly, and watching the
+expression of his friend's face.
+
+"This cold goes right through me to my very bones," said Gauthier,
+shivering.
+
+Saussier quite understood that his friend meant, "Let us change the
+subject," but he continued:--
+
+"May I ask you another question?"
+
+"You seem to have a few to ask to-day," said Gauthier, looking rather
+annoyed.
+
+"I have often wanted to speak to you, but have never dared before."
+
+"Well, to-day you don't seem afraid of running the risk."
+
+"If it vexes you, don't answer me."
+
+"Oh, I don't mind. I have had one; I may as well have the next."
+
+"Well, will you tell me why, every time there is an engagement, you take
+such pains to find out the name of the chief who commands the enemy?"
+
+This time Gauthier was visibly annoyed. He answered, after a few
+minutes' hesitation, "Because some day I intend writing the history of
+the Crimean War. It is only natural I should want to know the names of
+the commanders on the other side."
+
+"Oh! of course," said Saussier, feeling rather disconcerted.
+
+For some minutes the two friends continued their walk in silence. There
+was no sound but the crunching of the snow under their heavy boots, for
+it had been snowing hard in the district of Simferopol, and a thick
+white mantle covered the ground.
+
+Lieutenant Saussier looked at Gauthier, and in spite of his friend's
+attempt to turn away his head, Saussier saw that there were tears in his
+eyes.
+
+"Forgive me for asking you!" he exclaimed. "I had no idea of causing you
+pain."
+
+"How do you know you have?" asked Gauthier, passing his arm through that
+of his friend.
+
+"Don't try and hide it. I can see that, quite unintentional as it was, I
+have pained you with my questions."
+
+"It is nothing, nothing at all; or rather your questions brought to mind
+something in my past life. It is only natural that you should have asked
+me, and as a proof of my friendship I will tell you all."
+
+"No, no! Indeed I do not want you to. We will not talk about it. I am
+awfully sorry to have spoken of it."
+
+"After all, you are my greatest friend. Why should I not tell you about
+it? Perhaps, too, it might relieve me to speak of my trouble."
+
+"If it will be any relief to you, tell me; but if not, why, do not let
+us say any more about it."
+
+[Illustration: YOU ARE MY GREATEST FRIEND.]
+
+"I would rather tell you. Life is very uncertain on the battlefield, and
+I would rather not die with this secret untold. Perhaps, too, if you
+knew it you might be able to help me."
+
+"If I could help you in any way, you know you have only to tell me how."
+
+"Well, you shall hear all. You know that, before leaving Algeria, I went
+to Paris with a three months' leave."
+
+"Which you never stayed out, for you were back again in six weeks."
+
+"What could I do with myself in that Babylon, where everyone was gay
+while I was so wretched? How could I stand the sardonic laughter and
+gaiety around me when my heart was aching bitterly? As soon as my poor
+mother was buried I was only too anxious to get from that city of
+luxury, where the artificial lights only blinded and dazzled me.
+
+"I wanted to get away from the noise and the vice and the hypocrisy, and
+go to the desert and be alone with Nature and with reality, where I
+could breathe pure, wholesome air, and not that atmosphere which
+bewilders and poisons you. I left what we _call_ the civilized world to
+go to the savages whom I prefer.
+
+"I gave up society for solitude, peace for war. I despise my life and
+long for death, but death does not come at my call."
+
+Gauthier stopped for a minute, overcome with emotion.
+
+"You are too sensitive," said Saussier.
+
+"Perhaps so, but I have had something to bear."
+
+"Is it a love affair, Gauthier?"
+
+"No, no! I have never loved anyone, and besides, I am one of those who
+must not, who dare not love----"
+
+"I do not understand."
+
+"No, I will explain. My mother, who was dying of consumption, brought on
+by some great grief that she had always suffered alone, sent for me to
+bid me farewell. Three days before her death I was at her bedside.
+
+"'My son,' she said, 'I have sent for you to tell you something which I
+feel you ought to know before my death. I have always led you to believe
+that your father was dead.'
+
+"'And he is not dead. I have felt sure of that for a long time.'
+
+"'How could you nave guessed it?' exclaimed my mother.
+
+"'By your sadness, and, too, because you have never taken me to his
+grave, nor even spoken of it. My poor mother, did he leave you?'
+
+"'No, no! Do not blame him; it was not his fault that he had to leave
+us.'
+
+"'He is in prison, then; but surely he is innocent?'
+
+"'No, he is quite free.'
+
+"'How is it, then----"
+
+"'Listen, but do not interrupt me, for I have not strength for much. The
+name you have, Gauthier, was my father's and mine, but not your
+father's, Nicolas. My father was a wealthy shipbuilder at Havre. He
+died in 1825. My mother sold everything, and then she and I went to
+Paris to live.
+
+"'She was ambitious for me and wished me to marry well. We had plenty of
+money, and as that opens most doors she managed to get introductions and
+invitations to her heart's content.
+
+"'I was nineteen, and people said I was beautiful. My mother paid great
+attention to my toilette, and by mixing in society I soon lost all
+traces of having been brought up in the provinces. There was a young
+Russian captain, Prince Nicola� Porthikopoff, whom I used to meet at
+different houses. He belonged to the Czar's Imperial Guard, and was an
+_attach�_ of the Russian Embassy in Paris.
+
+"'He was very handsome, and was as noble at heart as he was by birth.
+
+"He loved me, and I returned his affection. At the end of six months he
+came to my mother and asked for my hand. Our engagement caused a great
+stir in Paris, it scandalized the aristocracy and caused jealousy in our
+own circle. Prince Nicola� cared nothing for the storm that he had
+roused.
+
+[Illustration: "HE CAME TO MY MOTHER AND ASKED FOR MY HAND."]
+
+"'There was so much gossip, and there was so much scheming to break off
+our engagement, that the Ambassador himself felt it his duty to inform
+the Czar. It appears the Czar only laughed at it all until the Princess
+Porthikopoff, your father's mother, wrote herself asking for his
+intervention, and declaring that she would never give her consent to our
+union. The Czar wrote a letter of advice to the Prince, but as it took
+no effect, and the Princess still insisted, the Czar objected formally
+to the marriage. Your father saw that it was hopeless, that there was no
+chance whatever of winning the consent of his mother or of his
+Sovereign. He proposed to me a desperate expedient, and I, young and
+inexperienced as I was, and believing that it would be for our mutual
+happiness, consented.
+
+"'We were to be married privately, but, as your father told me, the
+marriage would not be legal, as we could not have the necessary papers,
+and should even have to be married under assumed names, and in another
+country. He believed that then, when his mother saw that the honour of a
+Porthikopoff was at stake, she would take steps to have the ceremony
+performed again with the necessary formalities. He thought that she
+would do for the honour and pride of her family what she would not do
+for love of her son.
+
+"'I consented to everything; but, alas! a month later, seeing that your
+father continued to brave all authority, the Czar recalled him to St.
+Petersburg.
+
+"'Your father pleaded our cause but in vain! Nicholas I., proud autocrat
+as he was, and the Princess were both inexorable. Your father was
+exasperated, and he gave vent to his indignation. The result was that he
+was ordered to start the next day for Irkoutsk, in Siberia He was to be
+exiled! Exiled because he had loved me, because he wished to do his duty
+and make me his lawful wife! My mother and I went away to Lille, where
+you were born.
+
+"'The Prince, your father, was not allowed to write or receive letters
+without sending them first to the Governor to be read and approved. I
+happened to meet with someone who was going to Irkoutsk, and begged him
+to take a message to your father and to tell him of your birth. When
+this man returned he brought me a letter from your father, in which he
+said he was going to try and make his escape, and that he would never
+again set foot in Russia.
+
+"'Just at this time my mother died. Your father was not able to put his
+plan into execution, and a year later he was allowed to write to me, but
+merely to tell me the conditions on which Nicholas I. offered to allow
+his return from exile. The Czar had chosen a wife for him, and he was to
+renounce me for ever. Your father added that he was refusing such terms;
+that he would never break his vow to me, and preferred exile to what was
+offered him.
+
+"'He was right!' I exclaimed, proudly, for I was glad to find that I had
+no cause to blush for my father.
+
+"'It was noble of him!' said my mother, and her eyes filled with tears.
+'It was noble, but how could I accept such a sacrifice? I could not; it
+would have been too selfish. There was only one thing to do, and
+although in doing it I had to sacrifice all my womanly pride, my courage
+held out. I wrote to your father, telling him to accept the Czar's
+offer, as I myself was about to marry.'
+
+"'It was not true?'
+
+"'No! No! It was to save him. I wanted him to be free, to be happy if
+possible. As for me, all was over. He wrote to me, reproaching me, and
+it broke my heart. I did not reply to his letter. I went back to Paris,
+where I lived quietly and unknown, devoting myself entirely to you....
+Six months later I heard that he had married a Princess according to the
+will of the Czar, and that he was appointed captain.'
+
+"'Is he happy?'
+
+"'I have never heard another word about him, and as he has no idea of my
+whereabouts, he could never have made inquiries about me. Now you know
+all, you know the cause of my sadness and the secret of your birth. You
+must now judge between your father and your mother, and either pardon or
+condemn us, for, alas! my poor boy, you have no name and no future.'
+
+"My poor mother hid her face in her hands and sobbed in an agony of
+grief.
+
+"'I have nothing to forgive, mother; but if you wish me to judge my
+father and you, I can only say that you both did your duty and that your
+sacrifice was sublime. Society makes laws at its own pleasure, but in
+the sight of God, who surely is over all, your marriage was valid, and I
+have nothing to be ashamed of. On the contrary, you were both victims,
+and you suffered through your loyalty to each other--and your love was
+surely truer and more ideal than many which society recognises.'
+
+"My poor mother could not speak for some time, her emotion was so great.
+Later on she told me where I should find some papers, which I was to
+read after her death, and she added:--
+
+"'You will also find in the same drawer two things by which your father
+would always recognise you, if you should ever meet him and if you
+wished to make yourself known. I leave it entirely to you to act as you
+think best; but if you ever should see him, tell him that I was true to
+him, explain all, and tell him that I loved him to the last.'
+
+"Two days later my poor mother passed away. I was thus left an orphan
+and nameless. I was utterly alone in the world. I had not a creature to
+love me, and I knew that I must never dare to love anyone. Left to
+myself, I cursed the whole world and its prejudices and baseness."
+
+Gauthier covered his face with his hand, and Saussier, respecting his
+friend's grief, did not speak for some time. The two officers walked on
+through the snow without noticing where they were going.
+
+Suddenly Gauthier said, bitterly: "You understand now the cause of the
+melancholy that is always weighing on me?"
+
+"I do, indeed," replied Saussier.
+
+"The tortures of the Inquisition are nothing to what I endure, when I
+think of my poor mother suffering through all those years without a word
+of consolation from any living soul."
+
+"It must have been terrible!"
+
+"Then, too, you know now why I always find out the name of the Russian
+commander before every attack; for by now he must be at least a
+General."
+
+"Yes, it is indeed fearful!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Sebastopol had been besieged ever since October 9th, 1854. Marshal
+Canrobert commanded the troops with Lord Raglan.
+
+[Illustration: "TELL HIM THAT I LOVED HIM TO THE LAST."]
+
+Prince Mentschiskoff and Prince Todleben resisted the attack bravely.
+
+The sight of the city, which was all in ruins, exasperated the Russian
+Commander-in-Chief, and he ordered a sally, but the French and the
+English were well on guard and repulsed this desperate attempt.
+
+The attack was terrible, and the heroism on every side sublime.
+
+The most warlike of the besieged troops rushed against the French,
+preferring to have to do with the _furia francesca_ rather than with the
+British deliberation and _sang-froid_. The combat was sustained and
+desperate.
+
+Profiting by the confusion amongst the French troops, caused by the
+death of their Commander-in-Chief, the Russians succeeded in obtaining
+the first trench. The besiegers, however, got reinforcements and the
+struggle was continued.
+
+Two young officers, who were fighting side by side, attracted everyone's
+notice. They were in the first rank, and they led their soldiers into
+the thickest of the fray and cut down the enemy right and left.
+
+One of them was rather in advance of the other, and was encouraging his
+soldiers to follow him. Suddenly with his pistol he took aim at a
+Russian commander, who, on seeing that the enemy was gaining ground, had
+spurred his horse forward and was calling to his soldiers to advance.
+Another horseman, seeing the danger his chief was in, rushed before him,
+exclaiming:--
+
+"Take care, General Porthikopoff!"
+
+On hearing this the French officer dropped his murderous weapon and
+stood as if paralyzed, looking at his enemy.
+
+On receiving the warning the Prince had drawn out his pistol and fired
+at the French officer. The ball struck him, and he fell. His friend, who
+had just reached him, and who had also heard the Russian General's name,
+drew his men to the right where the enemy was strongest, exclaiming, in
+desperation: "Follow me! Follow me!"
+
+The Russian soldiers rushed at the young officer, who had fallen, and
+would have killed him, but, waving them off, he said he must speak with
+their General before he died.
+
+The Prince, astonished at the request at such a moment, consented.
+
+"What is it you have to say, and why did you not attempt to shoot me?"
+
+"I could not."
+
+"But what prevented you?"
+
+"Duty."
+
+"I do not understand."
+
+The young officer drew from his tunic a letter, a locket, and a small
+box, and handed them to the General.
+
+"What is the meaning of this?" exclaimed the Prince.
+
+"Look inside the locket."
+
+The Prince opened it and started. "My portrait and Madeline's!" Then,
+opening the box: "And her engagement ring! Where did you get these
+from?"
+
+"The letter will explain all."
+
+The Prince opened it, and, after glancing at it quickly, said: "And you
+are----"
+
+"Nicolas Gauthier."
+
+"And your mother?"
+
+"She is dead. Her love for you killed her."
+
+"That is not true, for she married another."
+
+"Never! She loved you to the last, and died with your name on her lips.
+Read the letter to the end."
+
+Mechanically the General read the letter, and then kissing the locket
+passionately: "I knew, I felt that Madeline was true!" he said, and then
+bending over Gauthier, he continued: "How did you recognise me, though?"
+
+"I heard them call you by your name."
+
+"That was why you would not fire?"
+
+"Yes. A son could not kill his father, even though he be his enemy."
+
+"But you allowed a father to kill his son?"
+
+"I could not help it. It was fate."
+
+"No, no, my son! You shall not die! You _must_ live!"
+
+"God wills otherwise, father. Farewell! I have only seen you for a
+minute, but I am satisfied."
+
+Gauthier made a great effort to get up, smiled at the Prince, and then
+fell back dead.
+
+"My boy, my boy!" exclaimed the Prince, in desperation, stooping over
+the dead body of his son. "Dead, dead, and killed by me, his father! And
+this is the work of our Czar! Oh, cruel fate!"
+
+[Illustration: "THE GENERAL REMAINED KNEELING BY THE SIDE OF HIS SON."]
+
+The General remained some minutes kneeling by the side of his son in
+mute despair, and then for the last time he sprang on to his horse and
+rushed into the thickest of the fray.
+
+"Prince! Prince! what are you doing there?" exclaimed a French officer
+at his side.
+
+"I am seeking death! I have killed my son, and I will not survive
+him----"
+
+He had scarcely finished when a ball struck him and he fell down dead.
+
+"Who can say there is no Providence! The father has not waited long to
+join his son," exclaimed the French officer, as he rushed on at the head
+of his men.
+
+For some time the result of the combat seemed uncertain, but at last the
+French won the day, and the Russians had to take refuge in Sebastopol.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When Marshal Canrobert went over the battlefield, he asked where the
+young officer was who belonged to the Foreign Legion, and who had fought
+so bravely.
+
+"He fell by the retrenchments," was the reply.
+
+The Commander-in-Chief rode over to the spot named and ordered the
+surgeon to examine the young officer who was lying on the ground. It
+was, however, too late.
+
+"There was another officer of the same Legion whom I saw fall there, to
+the left," said the Marshal.
+
+The young officer was brought and was told that his friend was dead.
+
+"It is a pity," he said to the Marshal, "for you have lost a true
+soldier."
+
+"What was his name?"
+
+"Nicolas Gauthier."
+
+"And yours?"
+
+"F�lix Saussier."
+
+The Commander-in-Chief ordered the army to fall into rank, and then as
+they presented arms he took the Cross of the Legion of Honour which he
+was wearing himself and placed it on Lieutenant Saussier's breast.
+
+"Wear it proudly," he said; "it is the recompense that France accords to
+her bravest sons, and you well deserve it."
+
+Then taking another Cross from one of the officers who belonged to the
+�tat Major, he placed it on the body of Gauthier. "You, too, have well
+earned it," he said, "and shall take it with you to your grave."
+
+The troops filed off, after passing in front of the two officers, the
+one wounded and the other dead. Marshal Canrobert himself raised his
+sword and saluted the two heroes (the one, alas! had died too soon, and
+the other was destined to become one of the bravest Generals of France),
+and then passed on deeply moved, but satisfied with the victory, and
+ignorant of the drama which had taken place so near to him.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+_From Behind the Speaker's Chair._
+
+VI.
+
+(VIEWED BY HENRY W. LUCY.)
+
+
+[Sidenote: SIR WILLIAM HARCOURT.]
+
+Sir William Harcourt has been so long a familiar figure in the House of
+Commons, and has established so high a reputation, that it seems odd to
+speak of him as one of the successes of the new Session. But the phrase
+accurately describes his position. Circumstances connected with the
+personality of the Premier have given him opportunity to show what
+potentialities as Leader of the House modestly lurk behind his massive
+figure, and the result has been eminently satisfactory to his party and
+his friends. Sir William's early reputation was made as a brilliant
+swordsman of debate, most effective in attack. The very qualities that
+go to make success in that direction might lead to utter failure on the
+part of a Leader of the House.
+
+[Illustration: "MODESTLY LURKING."]
+
+If one sought for a word that would describe the leading characteristics
+of Sir William Harcourt in Parliament it would be found in the style
+aggressive. Perhaps the most fatal thing a Leader of the House of
+Commons could do would be to develop aggressiveness. The Leader must be
+a strong man--should be the strongest man on his side of the House. But
+his strength must be kept in reserve, and if he err on either side of
+this particular line, submissiveness should be his characteristic. The
+possession of this quality was the foundation of Mr. W. H. Smith's
+remarkable success as Leader. It is true he could not, had he tried,
+have varied his deferential attitude towards the House by one of sterner
+mould, and the House enjoys the situation more keenly if that
+alternative be existent. It took Mr. Smith as he was, and the two got on
+marvellously well together.
+
+Nothing known of Sir William Harcourt's Parliamentary manner forbade the
+apprehension that, occupying the box-seat, there would be incessant
+cracking of the whip. It was difficult in advance to imagine how he
+would be able to resist the opportunity of letting the lash fall on the
+back of a restive or a stubborn horse. The opportunity of saying a smart
+thing, at whatever cost, seemed with him irresistible. If only he had
+his jest they might have his estate; in this case the estate of his
+party.
+
+[Illustration: "AGGRESSIVE."]
+
+Reflection on an earlier experience of Sir William in the seat of the
+Leader might have caused these forebodings to cease. Four years ago,
+towards the close of the Session of 1889, the temporary withdrawal of
+Mr. Gladstone from the scene gave him his chance. It happened that the
+Government under the leadership of Mr. Smith, and, it was understood,
+on the personal instruction of Lord Salisbury, were pressing forward
+the Tithes Bill. They had an overwhelming, well-disciplined majority, and
+being pledged up to the hilt to carry the Bill, the issue seemed certain.
+Through a whole week Sir William led the numerically-overpowered
+Opposition, fighting the Bill at every step. The hampered Government
+were determined to get some sort of Bill passed, and, hopeless of
+achieving their earliest intention, foreshadowed another measure in a
+series of amendments laid on the table by the Attorney-General. The
+Opposition were not disposed to accept this with greater fervour than
+the other, and finally Mr. Smith announced a total withdrawal from the
+position.
+
+Nothing was finer throughout the brilliant campaign than Sir William
+Harcourt's lamentations over this conclusion. Having inflicted on a
+strong Government the humiliation of defeat upon a cherished measure,
+he, in a voice broken with emotion, held poor W. H. Smith up to the
+scorn of all good men as a heartless, depraved parent, who had abandoned
+by the wayside a promising infant.
+
+In the present Session Sir William, as Deputy Leader, finds himself in a
+position different from, and more difficult than, the one filled in
+August, 1889. He was then in the place of the Leader of the Opposition,
+and had a natural affinity for the duty of opposing. In the present
+Session he has been frequently and continuously called upon to perform
+the duties of Leader of the House, and his success, though not so
+brilliantly striking as in the short, sharp campaign against the Tithes
+Bill, has stood upon a broader and more permanent basis. The House of
+Commons, as Mr. Goschen learned during the experiments in Leadership
+which preceded his disappearance from the front rank, may be led, but
+cannot be driven.
+
+It is curious that two of the most aggressive controversialists in the
+House, being temporarily called to the Leadership, have shown themselves
+profoundly impressed with this truth. Like Lord Randolph Churchill, when
+he led the House, Sir William Harcourt appears on the Treasury Bench
+divested even of his side-arms. Like the Happy Warrior, his helmet is a
+hive for bees. His patience in time of trial has been pathetic, and,
+whatever may be his own feelings on the subject, the House has been
+amazed at his moderation. He has sat silent on the Treasury Bench by the
+hour, with Mr. Arthur Balfour, Mr. Chamberlain, Lord Randolph Churchill,
+and other old familiar adversaries, trailing tempting coat-tails before
+him.
+
+[Illustration: "THE HAPPY WARRIOR."]
+
+One night this Session, in debate on Uganda, Mr. Chamberlain interposed
+and delivered a brilliant, bitter speech, which deeply stirred a crowded
+House. It was drawing to the close of an important debate, and Mr.
+Chamberlain sat down at half-past eleven, leaving plenty of time for the
+Leader of the House to reply. To an old Parliamentary war-house the
+situation must have been sorely tempting. A party like to be sent off
+into the division lobby with a rattling speech from the Front Bench.
+There was ample time for a brisk twenty minutes' canter, and the crowded
+and excited sport. But there was nothing at stake on the division.
+Though Mr. Chamberlain could not withstand the opportunity of
+belabouring his old friends and colleagues, he did not intend to oppose
+the vote for Uganda, which would receive the hearty support of the
+Conservatives. Half an hour saved from speech-making would mean thirty
+minutes appropriated to getting forward with other votes in Committee of
+Supply. Sir William followed Mr. Chamberlain, and was welcomed with a
+ringing cheer; members settling themselves down in anticipated enjoyment
+of a rattling speech. When the applause subsided the Chancellor of the
+Exchequer contented himself with the observation that there had been a
+useful debate, the Committee had heard some excellent speeches, "and now
+let us get the vote."
+
+There was something touching in the depressed attitude of the right hon.
+gentleman as he performed this act of renunciation. What it cost him
+will, probably, never be known. But before progress was reported at
+midnight half-a-dozen votes had been taken.
+
+[Sidenote: THE WHIPS.]
+
+Of the various forms ambition takes in political life the most
+inscrutable is that which leads a man to the Whip's room. In
+Parliamentary affairs the Whip fills a place analogous to that of a
+sub-editor on a newspaper. He has (using the phrase in a Parliamentary
+sense) all the kicks and few of the half-pence. With the sub-editor, if
+anything goes wrong in the arrangement of the paper he is held
+responsible, whilst if any triumph is achieved, no halo of the resultant
+glory for a moment lights up the habitual obscurity of his head. It is
+the same, in its way, with the Whip. His work is incessant, and for the
+most part is drudgery. His reward is a possible Peerage, a Colonial
+Governorship, a First Commissionership of Works, a Postmaster-Generalship,
+or, as Sir William Dyke found at the close of a tremendous spell of
+work, a Privy Councillorship.
+
+[Illustration: SIR WILLIAM DYKE.]
+
+Yet it often comes to pass that the fate of a Ministry and the destiny
+of the Empire depend upon the Whip. A bad division, even though it be
+plainly due to accidental circumstances, habitually influences the
+course of a Ministry, sometimes giving their policy a crucial turn, and
+at least exercising an important influence on the course of business in
+the current Session.
+
+An example of this was furnished early in the present Session by a
+division taken on proposals for a Saturday sitting made necessary by
+obstruction. Up to the announcement of the figures it had been
+obstinately settled that the Second Reading of the Home Rule Bill should
+be moved before Easter. The Opposition had pleaded and threatened. Mr.
+Gladstone stood firm, and only three days before this momentous Friday
+had almost impatiently reiterated his determination to move the Second
+Reading of the Bill on the day appointed when leave was given to
+introduce it. The normal majority of forty reduced to twenty-one worked
+instant and magic charm. The falling-off had no political significance.
+Everyone knew it arose from the accidental absence of a number of the
+Irish members called home on local business. But there it was, and on
+the following Monday Sir William Harcourt, on behalf of the Premier,
+announced that the Home Rule Bill would not be taken till after Easter.
+
+For other members of the Ministry there is occasional surcease from
+work, and some opportunity for recreation. For the Whip there is none.
+He begins his labour with the arrival of the morning post, and keeps at
+it till the Speaker has left the chair, and the principal door-keeper
+standing out on the matting before the doorway cries aloud: "The usual
+time!"
+
+That ceremony is a quaint relic of far-off days before penny papers
+were, and the means of communicating with members were circumscribed. It
+is the elliptical form of making known to members that at the next
+sitting the Speaker will take the chair at the usual time. For ordinary
+members, even for Ministers, unless they must be in their place to
+answer a question, "the usual time" means whatever hour best suits their
+convenience. The Whip is in his room even before the Speaker takes the
+chair, and it is merely a change of the scene of labour from his office
+at the Treasury. He remains till the House is up, whether the business
+be brisk or lifeless.
+
+In truth, at times when the House is reduced almost to a state of coma,
+the duties of the Whip become more arduous and exacting. These are the
+occasions when gentle malice loves to bring about a count-out. If it is
+a private members' night the Whips have no responsibility in the matter
+of keeping a House, and have even been suspected of occasionally
+conniving in the beneficent plot of dispersing it. But just now private
+members' nights stand in the same relation to the Session as the
+sententious traveller found to be the case with snakes in Iceland. There
+are none. Every night is a Government night, and weariness of flesh and
+spirit naturally suggests a count-out. The regular business of the Whip
+is to see that there are within call sufficient members to frustrate the
+designs of the casual counter-out.
+
+[Illustration: MR. JARRETT, DOOR-KEEPER.]
+
+[Sidenote: "BOBBY" SPENCER.]
+
+Mr. Gladstone and other members of the Cabinet, on many dull nights of
+this Session, have been cheered on crossing the lobby by the sight of
+Mr. "Bobby" Spencer gracefully tripping about, note-book in hand,
+holding an interminable succession of members in brief but animated
+conversation. He is not making a book for the Derby or Goodwood, as one
+might suspect. "Do you dine here to-night?" is his insinuating inquiry,
+and till he has listed more than enough men to "make a House" in case of
+need, he does not feel assured of the safety of the British
+Constitution, and therefore does not rest.
+
+[Illustration: "BOBBY" SPENCER.]
+
+This is part of the ordinary work of the average night. When an
+important division is impending, the labour imposed upon the Whip is
+Titanic. He, of course, knows every individual member of his flock. With
+a critical division pending he must know more, ascertaining where he is
+and, above all, where he will be on the night of the division. It is at
+these crises that the personal characteristics of the Whip are tested. A
+successful Whip should be almost loved, and not a little feared. He
+should ever wear the silken glove, but there should be borne in upon the
+consciousness of those with whom he has to deal that it covers an iron
+hand.
+
+It happens just now that both political parties in the House of Commons
+are happy in the possession of almost model Whips. As was said by a
+shrewd observer, no one looking at Mr. Marjoribanks or Mr. Akers-Douglas
+as they lounge about the Lobby "would suppose they could say 'Bo!' to a
+goose." The goose, however, would do well not to push the experiment of
+forbearance too far. All through the last Parliament Mr. Akers-Douglas
+held his men together with a light, firm hand, that was the admiration
+and despair of the other side. Mr. Marjoribanks has, up to this present
+time of writing, maintained the highest standard of success in Whipping.
+
+[Sidenote: MR. MARJORIBANKS.]
+
+With a Ministerial majority standing at a maximum of forty, it is of the
+utmost importance to the Government that there shall be no sign of
+falling off. If the forty were diminished even by a unit, a storm of
+cheering would rise from the Opposition Benches, and Ministerialists
+would be correspondingly depressed. With the exception named, due to
+circumstances entirely beyond the Whip's control, Mr. Marjoribanks has
+in all divisions, big or small, mustered his maximum majority of forty,
+and has usually exceeded it.
+
+That means not only unfailing assiduity and admirable business
+management, but personal popularity on the part of the Whip. Aside from
+party considerations, no Liberal would like to "disoblige Marjoribanks,"
+who is as popular with the Irish contingent as he is with the main body
+of the British members. He is fortunate in his colleagues--
+
+Mr. Ellis, Mr. Spencer, Mr. Causton, and Mr. McArthur. The Whip's
+department has not always been a strong feature in a Liberal
+Administration. In the present Government it is one of the strongest.
+
+[Illustration: MR. MARJORIBANKS.]
+
+Why Mr. Marjoribanks should be content to serve as Whip is one of the
+mysteries that surround the situation. He does not want a peerage, since
+that will come to him in the ordinary course of nature. He is one of the
+personages in political life who excite the sympathy of Lord Rosebery,
+inasmuch as he must be a peer _malgr� lui_. He served a long
+apprenticeship when the office of Whip was more than usually thankless,
+his party being in opposition. When Mr. Gladstone's Ministry was formed,
+it was assumed, as a matter of course, that Mr. Marjoribanks would have
+found for him office in other department than that of the Whip. But Mr.
+Gladstone, very shrewdly from the Leader's point of view, felt that no
+one would be more useful to the party in the office vacated by Mr.
+Arnold Morley than Mr. Marjoribanks. Mr. Marjoribanks, naturally
+disposed to think last of his own interests and inclinations, did not
+openly demur.
+
+[Sidenote: ALL-NIGHT SITTINGS.]
+
+The Whip's post, though hard enough, is much lightened by adoption of
+the twelve o'clock rule. Time was, at no distant date, when for some
+months in the Session Whips were accustomed to go home in broad
+daylight. It is true the House at that time met an hour later in the
+afternoon, but the earlier buckling to is a light price to pay for the
+certainty that shortly after midnight all will be over. Even now the
+twelve o'clock rule may be suspended, and this first Session of the new
+Parliament has shown that all-night sittings are not yet impossible. But
+so unaccustomed is the present House to them, that when one became
+necessary on the Mutiny Bill everyone and everything was found
+unprepared. In the old days, when Mr. Biggar was in his prime, the
+commissariat were always prepared for an all-night sitting. When, this
+Session, the House sat up all night on the Mutiny Bill, the larder was
+cleared out in the first hour after midnight.
+
+It is not generally known how nearly the valuable life of the Chairman
+of Ways and Means was on that occasion sacrificed at the post of duty.
+Having lost earlier chances by remaining in the chair, it was only at
+four o'clock in the morning he was rescued from famine by the daring
+foraging of Mr. Herbert Gladstone, who, the House being cleared for one
+of the divisions, brought in a cup of tea and a poached egg on toast,
+which the Chairman disposed of at the table.
+
+[Illustration: MR. MELLOR.]
+
+Mr. Mellor is an old Parliamentary campaigner, and remembers several
+occasions when, living injudiciously near the House, he was brought out
+of bed to assist in withstanding obstruction. Being called up one
+morning by an imperative request to repair to the House, he observed a
+man violently ringing at the bell of the house of a neighbour, also a
+member of the House of Commons. On returning two hours later, he found
+the man still there, diligently ringing at the bell.
+
+"What's the matter?" he asked; "anyone ill?"
+
+"No, sir," said the man. "Lord Richard Grosvenor sent me to bring Mr.
+---- down to the House, and said I was not to come away without him."
+
+"Ah, well, you can go off now; the House is up."
+
+Mr. ----, it turned out on subsequent inquiry, had gone down to Brighton
+with his family, and the servants left at home did not think it
+necessary to answer a bell rung at this untimely hour.
+
+[Sidenote: "PAIRED FOR THE NIGHT."]
+
+It was about the same time, in the Parliament of 1880, that another
+messenger from the Government Whip went forth in the early morning in
+search of a member. He lived in Queen Anne's Mansions, and the messenger
+explaining the urgency of his errand, the night porter conducted him to
+the bedroom door of the sleeping senator. Succeeding in awakening him,
+he delivered his message.
+
+"Give my compliments to Lord Richard Grosvenor," said the wife of the
+still somnolent M.P.; "tell him my husband has gone to bed, and is
+paired for the night."
+
+[Sidenote: BARE-HEADED.]
+
+It is an old tradition, observed to this day, though the origin of it is
+lost in the obscurity of the Middle Ages, that a Whip shall not appear
+in the Lobby with his head covered. It is true Mr. Marjoribanks does not
+observe this rule, but he is alone in the exception. All his
+predecessors, as far as I can remember, conformed to the regulation. In
+the last Parliament the earliest intimation of the formation of a new
+Radical party was the appearance in the Lobby of Mr. Jacoby without his
+hat. Inquiry excited by this phenomenon led to the disclosure that the
+Liberal opposition had broken off into a new section. There was some
+doubt as to who was the leader, but none as to the fact that Mr. Jacoby
+and Mr. Philip Stanhope were the Whips. Mr. Stanhope was not much in
+evidence. But on the day Mr. Jacoby accepted the appointment he locked
+up his hat and patrolled the Lobby with an air of sagacity and an
+appearance of brooding over State secrets, which at once raised the new
+party into a position of importance.
+
+[Illustration: MR. JACOBY.]
+
+Dick Power, most delightful of Irishmen, most popular of Whips, made
+through the Session regular play with his hat. Anyone familiar with his
+habits would know how the land lay from the Irish quarter. If Mr. Power
+appeared hatless in the Lobby, a storm was brewing, and before the
+Speaker left the chair there would, so to speak, be wigs on the green.
+If his genial face beamed from under his hat as he walked about the
+Lobby the weather was set fair, at least for the sitting.
+
+[Sidenote: THE WINSOME WIGGIN.]
+
+One of the duties of the junior Whips is to keep sentry-go at the door
+leading from the Lobby to the cloak-room, and so out into Palace Yard.
+When a division is expected, no member may pass out unless he is paired.
+That is not the only way by which escape from the House may be made. A
+member desirous of evading the scrutiny of the Whips might find at least
+two other ways of quitting the House. It is, however, a point of honour
+to use only this means of exit, and no member under whatsoever pressure
+would think of skulking out.
+
+For many nights through long Sessions, Lord Kensington sat on the bench
+to the left of the doorway, a terror to members who had pressing private
+engagements elsewhere, when a division was even possible. There is only
+one well-authenticated occasion when a member, being unpaired, succeeded
+in getting past Lord Kensington, and the result was not encouraging.
+
+[Illustration: "SKULKING OUT."]
+
+One night, Mr. Wiggin (now Sir Henry), the withdrawal of whose genial
+presence from the Parliamentary scene is regretted on both sides of the
+House, felt wearied with long attendance on his Parliamentary duties.
+There came upon him a weird longing to stroll out and spend an hour in a
+neighbouring educational establishment much frequented by members. He
+looked towards the doorway, but there was Lord Kensington steadfast at
+his post. Glancing again, Mr. Wiggin thought the Whip was asleep.
+Casually strolling by him he found that this was the case, and with
+something more than his usual agility, he passed through the doorway.
+
+Returning at the end of an hour he found Lord Kensington still at his
+post, and more than usually wide awake.
+
+"You owe me �25," said Mr. Wiggin.
+
+"How?" cried the astonished Whip.
+
+"If," said Mr. Wiggin, producing his unencumbered watch-chain and
+dangling it, "you hadn't been asleep just now, I wouldn't have got past
+you; if I hadn't got past you, I wouldn't have dropped in at the
+Aquarium; and if I hadn't looked in at the Aquarium, I shouldn't have
+had my watch stolen."
+
+_Quod erat demonstrandum._
+
+[Illustration: "ABSORBED."]
+
+[Sidenote: REMARKABLE FEAT OF A COUNTRY PAPER.]
+
+It was stated at the time, to the credit of the provincial Press, that
+at the very moment Mr. St. John Brodrick was delivering in the House of
+Commons his luminous speech on the Second Reading of the Home Rule Bill,
+his constituents at Guildford, thanks to the enterprise of the local
+weekly paper, were studying its convincing argument, lingering over the
+rhythm of its sentences, echoing the laughter and applause with which a
+crowded House punctuated it. I enjoyed the higher privilege of hearing
+the speech delivered, and was probably so absorbed that I was not
+conscious of the crowd on the benches, and do not recollect the laughter
+and applause. Indeed, my memory enshrines rather a feeling of regret
+that so painstaking and able an effort should have met with so chilling
+a reception, and that an heir-apparent to a peerage, who has had the
+courage to propose a scheme for the reform of the House of Lords, should
+receive such scant attention in the Commons.
+
+[Sidenote: _Il y a_ POWER _et_ POWER.]
+
+Mr. Brodrick, however, got off his speech, and the local paper came out
+with its verbatim report, a concatenation of circumstances not always
+achieved. In the high tide of the Parnell invasion of the House of
+Commons, there happened an accident that excited much merriment. Mr.
+O'Connor Power--one of the ablest debaters the early Irish party brought
+into the House, a gentleman who has with equal success given up to
+journalism what was meant for the House of Commons--had prepared a
+speech for a current debate. Desirous that his constituents should be at
+least on a footing of equality with an alien House of Commons, he sent a
+verbatim copy in advance to the editor of the local paper, an
+understanding being arrived at that it was not to be published till
+signal was received from Westminster that the hon. member was on his
+feet. It happened that Mr. O'Connor Power failed on that night to catch
+the Speaker's eye. Mr. Richard Power was more successful, and the local
+editor receiving through the ordinary Press agency intimation that "Mr.
+Power opposed the Bill," at once jumped to the conclusion that this was
+the cue for the verbatim speech. Mr. Power was speaking; there was not
+the slightest doubt that Mr. O'Connor Power, when he did speak, would
+oppose the Bill. So the formes were locked, the paper went to press, and
+the next morning County Mayo rang with the unuttered eloquence of its
+popular member, and Irishmen observed with satisfaction how, for once,
+the sullen Saxon had had his torpid humour stirred, being frequently
+incited to "loud cheers" and "much laughter."
+
+[Sidenote: SIR ELLIS ASHMEAD-BARTLETT'S DILEMMA.]
+
+In this same debate on the Second Reading of the Home Rule Bill, where
+the energy and enterprise of the provincial weekly Press was
+incidentally illustrated in connection with Mr. Brodrick's speech, there
+happened another episode which did not work out so well. Sir Ellis
+Ashmead-Bartlett broke the long silence of years by delivering a speech
+in the House of Commons. It was a great occasion, and naturally evoked
+supreme effort. It was, in its way, akin to the wooing of Jacob. For
+seven years that eminent diplomatist had worked and waited for Rachel,
+and might well rejoice, even in the possession of Leah, when the term of
+probation was over. For nearly seven years Mr. Ashmead-Bartlett had sat
+on the Treasury Bench wrapped in the silence of a Civil Lord of the
+Admiralty. Now his time was come, and he threw himself into the
+enjoyment of opportunity with almost pathetic vigour. It was eleven
+o'clock when he rose, and the debate must needs stand adjourned at
+midnight. When twelve o'clock struck, Sir Ellis was still in the full
+flow of his turgid eloquence. His speech was constructed on the
+principle of, and (except, perhaps, in the matter of necessity)
+resembled, the long bridge in Cowper's "Task"--
+
+    That with its wearisome but needful length
+    Bestrides the wintry flood.
+
+The scene and the atmosphere were sufficiently Arctic to bear out the
+comparison. The audience had long since fallen away, like leaves in
+wintry weather. In ordinary circumstances Sir Ellis, an old
+Parliamentary Hand, would have wound up his speech, and so made an end
+of it, just before the stroke of midnight gave the signal for the
+Speaker's leaving the chair.
+
+There were, however, two reasons, the agony of whose weight must have
+pressed sorely on the orator. One was the recollection of an incident in
+his career still talked of in the busy circles round Sheffield. One
+night in yesteryear he was announced to deliver a speech at a meeting
+held in Nottingham. "For greater accuracy"--as the Speaker says, when,
+coming back from the House of Lords on the opening day of a Session, he
+reads the Queen's Speech to hon. members who have two hours earlier
+studied it in the evening papers--Mr. Ashmead-Bartlett had written out
+his oration and supplied it to the Sheffield paper whose recognition of
+his status as a statesman merits reward. Proceedings at the Nottingham
+meeting were so protracted, and took such different lines from those
+projected, that the orator of the evening, when his turn came, found the
+night too far advanced for his ordered speech, which would in other
+respects have been beside the mark. He accordingly, impromptu, delivered
+quite another speech, probably better than the one laboriously prepared
+in the seclusion of the closet. In the hurry and excitement of the
+moment he forgot to warn the Sheffield editor, with the consequence that
+the other speech was printed in full and formed the groundwork of a
+laudatory leading article.
+
+[Illustration: SIR ELLIS ASHMEAD-BARTLETT.]
+
+That was one thing that agitated the mind of Sir Ellis, and probably
+gave a profounder thrill to his denunciation of Mr. Gladstone's iniquity
+in the matter of the Home Rule Bill. Another was that this later speech,
+with all its graceful air of ready wit, fervid fancy, and momentarily
+inspired argument, was also in print, and, according to current report,
+was in advance widely circulated among a friendly Press. It turned out
+to be impossible to recite it all before the adjournment; equally
+impossible to cut it down. That mighty engine, the Press, was already,
+in remote centres of civilization, throbbing with the inspiration of his
+energy, printing off the speech at so many hundreds an hour. It was
+impossible to communicate with the unconscious editors and mark the
+exact point at which the night's actual contribution to debate was
+arrested. There was only one thing to be done: that was boldly to take
+the fence. So Sir Ellis went on till twelve o'clock as if nothing were
+happening elsewhere, was pulled up by the adjournment, and, turning up
+bright and early with the meeting of the House next day, reeled off the
+rest regardless of the gibes of the enemy, who said some of the faithful
+papers had muddled the matter, reporting on Tuesday morning passages
+that were not delivered in the House of Commons till Tuesday night.
+
+[Sidenote: THE PITY OF IT.]
+
+These accidents have their comical aspect. When it comes to
+appropriating two hours of the time of a busy Legislature, they also
+have their serious side. The House of Commons is a debating assembly,
+not a lecture hall, where prosy papers may be read to sparse audiences.
+The House is seen at its best when masters of fence follow each other
+in swift succession, striking and parrying, the centre of an excited
+ring. A prevalence of the growing custom of reading laboriously-prepared
+papers will speedily bring it down to the level of the Congress meeting
+at Washington. There the practice has reached its natural and happy
+conclusion, inasmuch as members having prepared their papers are not
+obliged to read them. They hand them in to the printer, and, at a cost
+to the nation willingly borne in view of compensating circumstances,
+they are printed at length in the _Congressional Globe_.
+
+[Illustration: "REELING IT OFF."]
+
+Perhaps when we have our official report of debates in the House of
+Commons this also will follow. It is easy to imagine with what eagerness
+the House would welcome any alternative that should deliver it from the
+necessity, not of listening to these musty harangues--that, to do it
+justice, it never suffers--but of giving up an appreciable portion of
+its precious time to the gratification of ponderous, implacable,
+personal vanity.
+
+[Sidenote: THACKERAY ON THE SUBJECT.]
+
+There is one gleam of light flickering about this intrinsically
+melancholy topic in connection with the name of Thackeray. I have read
+somewhere that it was a kindred calamity of a public speaker which led
+to Thackeray's first appearance in print. At a time when the century was
+young, and the author of "Vanity Fair" was a lad at Charterhouse,
+Richard Lalor Sheil, the Irish lawyer and orator, had promised to
+deliver a speech to a public meeting assembled on Penenden Heath. In
+those days there were no staffs of special reporters, no telegraphs, nor
+anything less costly than post-chaises wherewith to establish rapid
+communication between country platforms and London newspaper offices.
+Sheil, rising to the height of the occasion, wrote out his speech, and,
+before leaving town, sent copies to the leading journals, in which it,
+on the following morning, duly appeared.
+
+Alack! when the orator reached the Heath he found the platform in
+possession of the police, who prohibited the meeting and would have none
+of the speech. The incident was much talked of, and the boy Thackeray
+set to and wrote in verse a parody on the printed but unspoken oration:
+Here is the last verse, as I remember it:--
+
+    "What though these heretics heard me not?"
+      Quoth he to his friend Canonical;
+    "My speech is safe in the _Times_, I wot,
+      And eke in the _Morning Chronicle_."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[_The original drawings of the illustrations in this Magazine are always
+on view, and on sale, in the Art Gallery at these offices, which is open
+to the public without charge._]
+
+
+
+
+_A Work of Accusation._
+
+BY HARRY HOW.
+
+
+"Suicide whilst in a state of temporary insanity."
+
+Such was the verdict of the coroner's jury, and they could scarcely have
+declared anything else--there was not a tittle of evidence implicating
+another as the perpetrator of the deed. The deceased was found lying in
+his studio at the foot of his easel, shot through the heart. The
+revolver--a six-chambered one--was tightly gripped in his hand. Four out
+of the six chambers remained undischarged. It must have been suicide,
+simple and premeditated! The inquiry into the death of the deceased
+revealed only one spark of anything approaching sensationalism. It was
+the evidence of the housekeeper--an old lady of distinctly nervous
+temperament--who wept bitterly. Previous to the sad occurrence she had
+heard the firing of a pistol some five or six times during a period of
+two days. On the first occasion she had hurried to the studio, and the
+alarmed state of her feelings was sufficient to cause her to overlook
+the formality of giving the customary tap at the door previous to
+entering. She entered the room, only to find the deceased artist holding
+a pistol--the one produced--and looking at its barrel, still smoking,
+earnestly. He burst into a hearty laugh when he saw her, and told her
+not to be frightened.
+
+"It is nothing, Mrs. Thompson," he said, "and should you hear the firing
+again, do not be alarmed. Don't be frightened."
+
+[Illustration: "DON'T BE FRIGHTENED."]
+
+So the firing was frequent, and though it played pitifully with the old
+housekeeper's nerves and shook her seventy-year-old bones considerably,
+she quietly submitted to it and "hoped it was all right."
+
+I knew Godfrey Huntingdon well. He often chatted over his pictures with
+me. As a medical man and a student somewhat beyond the range of physic
+and prescriptions, the pros and cons of an idea to be eventually carried
+to the canvas gave rise to many interesting and discussable points. I
+liked the man--he was so frank and true and positively simple in his
+unassuming manner. Poor fellow! He never dreamt for a moment that he was
+a genius, but what he did not know the public were quick to recognise.
+Every picture from his brush was watched and waited for--a canvas from
+him meant a vivid, striking, often sensational episode, which seemed to
+live. I have some of his work in my dining-room now. I often look at his
+figures. They are more human than anything I have seen by any other
+modern painter. They seem possessed of breath and beating hearts of
+their own, with tongues that want to speak, and eyes that reveal a
+thinking brain. The trees in his landscapes appear to be gently shaken
+by the breeze from across the moorland, the clouds only need touching by
+the breath of the firmament to lazily move across the face of the blue
+sky. He was indeed a genius.
+
+It was always an open question in the minds of the public and the
+judgment of the critics as to who excelled the other--Godfrey Huntingdon
+or Wilfred Colensoe. They both belonged to the same school of ideas.
+Their works were equally impressive, their figure and portrait painting
+particularly so, and the judges said it would be a life-long race
+between them for supremacy with the brush. Huntingdon's sad death was a
+terrible blow to the artistic world. I went to his funeral.
+
+He had not forgotten me. He left me all his studies. There were several
+hundreds of them. Many were familiar to me, for he had made them whilst
+we were smoking a pipe together, as I pointed out to him the necessary
+laws of science he must needs regard in order to insure accuracy in his
+work. The studies made quite a number of huge bundles, and in the
+evening I would delight in sorting them through. It was a long task, for
+I found something to admire and think over in every single one of them.
+
+A fortnight had passed away since they first came into my possession. I
+had only another parcel to go through, and I should be finished. I was
+quietly sitting in my chair with my legs stretched out on another chair,
+as is my custom--I find it remarkably restful--and lighting up my brier
+I cut the string of the last bundle. Slowly, one by one, I lifted up
+those pieces of brown paper. They were still objects of reverence to me.
+Here was the head of a child, a sweetly pretty child, and next to it a
+study of a dissipated character, the face of a man fast losing every
+working power of his brain and body by liquor. I realized the genius of
+my dead friend more and more.
+
+[Illustration: "SLOWLY I LIFTED UP THOSE PIECES OF BROWN PAPER."]
+
+I had gone through quite a score of these play studies, when my hand
+stretched out for another from the pile by my side. I turned the piece
+of paper round and round, and it was some time before I grasped what the
+subject was intended for. It appeared to be a piece of round tubing from
+which smoke was protruding. The next half-dozen studies were of a
+similar character. In one the smoke was very small, just a thin streak;
+in another it was a full volume, as though to represent the after effect
+of the discharge of a bullet from a revolver. I looked again. The chalk
+drawing of the tubing was evidently intended for the barrel of a pistol!
+Huntingdon always put the date on every study he made, and I found my
+hand trembling as I turned the paper over. Great heavens--10th October,
+1872--the day before his death! Another paper bore the same date, and
+the others had the date of the previous day--the 9th. Was his death,
+then, the result of an accident and not a suicide after all? Here was
+the simple explanation of it so far--here was the reason for the several
+shots which the old housekeeper had heard fired. He had discharged the
+revolver at these times in order to watch the effect and immediately
+place his impressions on the pieces of paper I now held in my hand. My
+knowledge of Godfrey Huntingdon--both medically and fraternally--told me
+that, at the time of his death, there was positively nothing on his mind
+to cause such an act, and I now began reasoning the whole within myself
+once again, as I had done many times since the occurrence.
+
+"It's a mystery--a terrible mystery!" I exclaimed, jumping up and
+commencing to pace the room. I walked that room for over an hour, and
+was only aroused from my reverie by the announcement of a servant that
+supper was served. I ate my meal in silence, and the deliberate
+mouthfuls I took, and my more than ordinarily methodical manner of
+eating, must have told my wife that to disturb my present inward
+argument would have been disastrous to the immediate prospects of
+domestic harmony. I had come to a conclusion. There is nothing like
+science and its accompanying occupations for balancing a man's brain. A
+game of chess is recreative concentration. So the study of science was
+with me, whilst physic was my profession. Scientific research and the
+weighing of Nature's problems had steadied my thoughts and cooled my
+actions. It was a settled thing with me that poor Huntingdon had been
+murdered. By whom? Scientific investigation had transformed me into a
+calculating individual. Every action, to me, could be proved as a
+proposition in Euclid or an algebraical problem. I therefore said
+nothing about my startling discovery, and decided to wait the
+possibility of a further suggestion coming in my way, and "proving it."
+
+I suppose it was the deep interest I took in all matters concerning art
+which brought so many artist-patients to my consulting room. Six months
+had passed since the fatal 11th October, and the public were loudly
+expressing their approval of a marvellously impressive bit of painting
+by Wilfred Colensoe, which was the feature--and very justly so--of one
+of the early spring exhibitions. It was the picture of a duel--a very
+realistic canvas indeed. The young man--lying bleeding on the
+ground--almost told the story of the attempted avenge of an action
+towards someone dear to him on the part of an elderly _rou�_, whose
+still-smoking revolver was in his hand. Colensoe came to see me one
+morning. He was a remarkably handsome man, classically featured, with
+hair picturesquely scattered with streaks of silver.
+
+"Done up, eh?" I said to him.
+
+"Done up is the word," he answered.
+
+"You've been doing too much," I said, looking into his grey eyes as I
+held his hand a moment. "You must cease work for a time. Get away from
+your easel, go abroad, and forget to take your brushes with you. Go
+anywhere, a hundred miles from a retail colourman's."
+
+[Illustration: "'YOU'VE BEEN DOING TOO MUCH,' I SAID."]
+
+"My dear doctor," he answered, "your prescription is too strong. You
+forget I am an artist. It is like taking a man with a dying thirst to a
+fountain of water and telling him he mustn't drink. I can't leave my
+work."
+
+"When I tell you that it is either a case of your leaving your work or
+your work leaving you, my remark may not be very original, but it is
+undeniably true. Do you sleep well?"
+
+"I can't say," was his reply. "When I fall asleep at night I never wake
+until my hour for rising. But I am more tired in the morning than when I
+turned in over-night."
+
+"Quite so. Do you dream at all?"
+
+"Yes, I dream."
+
+"Feel sleepy now--eh?"
+
+"Doctor, I could go to bed for a week," he replied.
+
+"Again, I tell you--overwork," I said, with strong deliberation. "Now
+I'll make you a proposal, which I can couple most heartily with the name
+of Mrs. Gratton. Come away with us. We are going to Herne Bay for a few
+weeks. I have taken a house there. Most invigorating place. You want no
+medicine, you won't leave your work alone, I won't be hard in my
+treatment of your case. Bring your tools with you. I will prescribe so
+much colour for you during the day--your paints and brushes may become
+converted into agreeable physic, but--they must be taken at periodical
+times. What do you say?"
+
+Colensoe consented--gratefully accepted my offer, stayed to lunch, and
+my wife took care to let him feel that the invitation was one of
+combined cordiality from both of us. I was a great admirer of Colensoe's
+work, and therefore took a deep interest in the worker. In a week's time
+we were at Herne Bay. A room--with a good light--was apportioned off as
+a small studio for Colensoe. A week passed by. Colensoe obeyed my
+instructions to the letter. I limited his working hours, and he began
+himself to be thankful when the periodical times for laying aside his
+brush came round. I noticed this, and lessened the hours of painting
+more, thinking that by degrees he would soon put his palette away
+completely and take the undisturbed rest he needed for a time to restore
+him thoroughly.
+
+About a fortnight after our arrival I was sitting alone in the
+dining-room. My wife and visitor had retired an hour ago. It was a
+glorious night. I turned out the gas, walked to the window, and drew up
+the blinds. The sea was sparkling with gems thrown out by the
+moon-beams. The beauty of the night seemed to heighten the stillness of
+the surroundings. Although it wanted but a few minutes to midnight I
+determined to walk out to the cliffs--a couple of hundred yards from the
+house--and view the moonlit scenery to greater advantage. I turned from
+the window, opened the door, and, just as I was turning into the
+passage, I heard a footstep. It was a steady, deliberate step; there was
+nothing uncertain or hesitating about it. I waited a moment; it came
+nearer. I drew back into the shadow. Now it was on the top stair. A form
+appeared in sight. It was Wilfred Colensoe.
+
+"Colensoe," I cried, softly; "why, what's the matter?"
+
+[Illustration: "HE STOOD BEFORE HIS EASEL."]
+
+He made no answer. With monotonous step he descended the stairs and was
+now at the bottom. His blank, staring eyes at once told me that he was
+in a state of somnambulism. He was fully dressed. His face was deadly
+pale, his features stolidly set, and his lips were gently moving as
+though impressively muttering. When he reached the bottom stair, he
+turned and walked in the direction of the room we had converted into a
+studio for him. I followed on quietly. With all the method and
+mysterious discretionary power of the sleep-walker he turned the handle
+of the door and entered. The room was flooded with light, for the roof
+was a glass one. I watched him take his palette in hand and play with
+the brushes on the colours. He stood before his easel, on which rested a
+half-finished canvas. And he painted--painted as true and as sure as if
+awake, blending the colours, picking out his work, working with all his
+old artistic touch and finish. All this time his lips were moving,
+muttering incoherent words I could not hear. At last he laid aside his
+tools with a sigh that almost raised compassion in my heart. Then
+walking towards the window at the far end of the room, he appeared to
+look out upon the sea. He was now talking louder. I crept up to him and
+tried to catch a word. It was a terrible brain-ringing word I heard--and
+uttered in a way I shall never forget.
+
+"Murder!"
+
+That was the word. "Murder, murder, murder!" he muttered, with agonized
+face. Yet another word came to his lips.
+
+"Huntingdon!"
+
+"Murder--Huntingdon!" I said within myself as I linked the two words
+together.
+
+The sleeping man passed his hand across his forehead. It was evident
+that he was in the midst of an agonizing dream--a vision of conviction.
+Here stood the guilty man before me now, pale and motionless, the rays
+from the moon lighting up his face and revealing the word "guilt"
+written on every feature. I watched him and waited for something else to
+come from his lips. I stood by his side for nearly an hour, but he did
+nothing more than repeat these same two words. With measured tread he
+turned to go. I followed him to his bedroom and heard him turn the key.
+I sat up the whole night--thinking. None knew of the remarkable
+discovery which I had made amongst poor Huntingdon's sketches; none
+should know of what I had learnt to-night. By the morning I had fully
+determined upon my course of action. The ramblings of a sleep-walking
+man would not prove a conviction to those who would judge his deed. He
+should convict himself. He should witness against himself. He was a
+sleep-worker. I had met with many similar cases before, all of which
+tended to prove that sleep by no means deadens the faculties of labour.
+It is indisputable that the hands will follow the inclinations of the
+brains of somnambulists. They will act as they think--perform what they
+dream. If Colensoe would only work out his terrible night dreams!
+
+My conduct towards him at the breakfast table and throughout the day was
+just the same as ever. It was far from a comfortable feeling, however,
+to pass the wine to one who had taken another's life, and to offer an
+after-dinner cigar to a murderer. The day passed. I slept during the
+afternoon, for I was tired with my over-night watching, and could I but
+put my inward plans into execution, it was more than probable that I
+should be awake for many nights to come. I told my wife that Colensoe
+was a somnambulist, and that he worked at the canvas equally as well
+whilst sleeping as waking. I impressed upon her the absolute necessity
+of silence on the subject, as I firmly believed that I was on the brink
+of a great discovery. Seeing that I was a medical man, her curiosity was
+in no way aroused. Indeed, she thought me foolish to give up my night's
+rest.
+
+That night, after Colensoe had gone to bed, I went into his studio. My
+hand trembled somewhat as I placed on his easel a square piece of new
+canvas. This done, I waited patiently. A step on the stairs rewarded me.
+It was Colensoe walking again. His speech was louder this time, and more
+impressively distinct; his dream was evidently more agonizing than the
+night before. If he would only follow out the promptings of that
+dream--if he would but work to-night--to-night! I watched him
+breathlessly. He wandered about the room for some time, then suddenly,
+as though impelled by some mysterious force within, crossed to the
+cupboard where he kept his tools, took out his materials and walked to
+the canvas.
+
+"Huntingdon--Huntingdon!" he cried, and the first lines of his
+everlasting vision were written on the hitherto untouched canvas. It was
+the outline of a man's face! For two hours he worked, and then,
+replacing his brushes and palette, went to bed. I took the canvas away.
+Night after night for ten days I placed the canvas in position. Night
+after night the artist got nearer to accomplishing his own condemnation.
+And as the picture grew more like the man he had murdered, so his dream
+became more intense. His features showed that. The rapidity of his brush
+revealed the rush of thoughts within, of an anxiety to complete his
+task. Never was such a true portrait painted, and when on the last night
+he put the finishing touches to it, the face of Huntingdon seemed to
+live on the canvas. It was the face which existed in the brain of the
+painter. The last night's work was done. The sleeping man turned from
+his easel and went to his bedroom once more.
+
+The morrow would tell me if Colensoe was guilty. I had little doubt of
+it in my own mind--but he should say so himself when waking as he had
+condemned himself whilst sleeping. I would take him to the studio and
+confront him with his own testimony. He should see the face of the man
+whose life he had taken, painted with his own hands. He was later than
+usual in coming down that morning. I left the breakfast-room with the
+intention of calling him, when, just as I got into the passage, I saw
+him at the top of the stairs. His hat was on. His face was ghastly pale,
+every feature was working. His eyes betokened some mad intention--their
+gaze appeared to kill. He almost flew down the stairs.
+
+"Don't stop me," he cried. "I must go into the open. I want God's air.
+Let me go now--let me go, only for a little while!"
+
+"Colensoe," I said, catching him by the arm, "what mad act do you
+contemplate?"
+
+"Nothing--nothing. Believe me, nothing. I only want the refreshing
+breeze, that's all. I'm tired--worn out."
+
+"Yes, you are truly tired," I said.
+
+"What do you mean?" he cried.
+
+"Your work."
+
+"Work--what work?--who works?"
+
+"Come with me," I said.
+
+[Illustration: "HE SHRIEKED THE MURDERED MAN'S NAME."]
+
+Like a child he followed me to his studio. I opened the door. The
+portrait of Huntingdon rested on the easel. He saw it. The eyes he had
+painted pierced him to the heart, and the lips almost moved in
+accusation. He shrieked the murdered man's name and fell to the ground.
+He was dead!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The following letter was found on Wilfred Colensoe's dressing-table:--
+
+"What good is life to me?--what good am I for life? Then why live? A
+guilty conscience only means a living death. You have been very good to
+me--both you and your wife. But I am going to end it all. Let me
+confess. It will bring me some small comfort even now in the dying hour
+I have given to myself. You remember poor Huntingdon? I shot that
+man--murdered him. Listen and then 'Good-bye.' Huntingdon and I were
+friendly rivals. You remember my picture of 'The Duel'? Yes. One day I
+visited Huntingdon. That same morning I had been making some studies of
+a revolver in the act of being discharged. I had it in my pocket when I
+went to see Huntingdon, and one chamber remained loaded. I walked
+straight into his studio. As I entered Huntingdon had a pistol in his
+hand pointed immediately towards me and--fired. In an instant my
+revolver was in my grasp and a bullet had entered his heart. That is the
+simple history of the crime. I fled from the place and none knew. Thank
+God this is written. A life for a life. I am passing through death all
+the day, and at night I do not cease to die. You do not know what that
+means. The guilty do. Angels of darkness play with you all day long and
+at night watch over you--watch over you that you do not escape, that
+they may gambol with you on the morrow. They are making merry now. They
+have got what they want--_Me_. Yes, a life for a life. I will deliver my
+own up. Good-bye."
+
+
+
+
+_The Queer Side of Things._
+
+[Illustration: A USE FOR GENIUS]
+
+
+Young Bansted Downs had finally arrived home from school; the cabman had
+placed his box in the front hall, and young D. was in the act of hanging
+up his hat on the stand, when the elder Bansted Downs, his father, put
+his head out of the library, and said:--
+
+"And now, young Bansted Downs, what sphere in life do you propose to
+fill?"
+
+"I have been thinking, old Bansted Downs," replied the youth,
+respectfully, "since I left school seventy-five minutes ago, that I
+should prefer to be something prosperous."
+
+The father nodded his head approvingly at this evidence of foresight in
+his child, and said:--
+
+"I think you have come to a very wise decision, young Bansted Downs. No
+doubt you have, while at school, selected such studies as were best
+fitted to prepare you for the struggle of life?"
+
+"I think so, old Bansted Downs," replied the son. "The head-master took
+in regularly for our use all the best prize-competition periodicals; in
+fact, he was of opinion that a complete selection of these rendered all
+other educational books superfluous. I myself have attained to such
+dexterity in guessing the right word, deciding on the best eight
+pictures and the two best stories, divining the correct number of pairs
+of boots made in London on a given day, and so forth, that Dr.
+Practiccle pronounced my education singularly complete."
+
+"Good--very good! young Bansted Downs," said the father, thoughtfully;
+"and now as to a more specific choice of profession?"
+
+"Well, old Bansted Downs," said the son, "I have been thinking that I
+should like to be apprenticed to a Genius, with a view to adopting his
+calling."
+
+"Very well thought out," said the parent. "I must consider whether the
+necessary premium----"
+
+"Pray do not trouble about that," said the son, "as my success at the
+word competitions has more than provided for the contingency." And young
+Bansted Downs drew from his pocket a large bag filled with a mixture of
+sovereigns, marbles, and peppermint-drops.
+
+"Very good! Then the matter's settled; and perhaps you would like
+something to eat."
+
+All the friends by whose opinion old Bansted Downs set any store
+heartily approved of young Bansted Downs's choice of a calling; and the
+matter was fully discussed that evening. The advertisement columns of
+the newspapers were consulted as to the most suitable genius to
+undertake the charge of the youth; and the following seemed promising:--
+
+"_To Parents and Guardians._--_Young men of promise wishing to adopt the
+profession of genius will do well to apply to Brayne Power and Sons, of
+3019A, George Street, Hanover Square, who have a vacancy for one
+apprentice. Telephone No. 7142863._"
+
+The very next day young Bansted Downs called at the address given, and
+was shown into the presence of Power senior, a man of venerable
+appearance, whose high broad forehead, far-away gaze, long hair, and
+abstraction sufficiently revealed his calling.
+
+"It will be fifty pounds--twenty-five down, and the rest in monthly
+instalments of one pound after you have got your H.A.W.," said the
+Master Genius.
+
+"If you please, what is my H.A.W.?" asked young Bansted Downs.
+
+"Your final degree--your Head Above Water."
+
+"That will not be just yet?" asked the youth.
+
+"Oh, dear, no! Not for a very long while, if ever. There are two
+preliminary degrees to get before that. There are the F.I. and the
+E.P.--your Foot In and your Ear of the Public; and before you can obtain
+either of these you will have to Make your Mark."
+
+"I can sign my name--will not that do as well?" asked the youth.
+
+[Illustration: "THE MASTER GENIUS."]
+
+"That entirely depends upon the sort of name. If it's just a surname
+with a coronet over it, it entitles you to your F.I. and your E.P.
+without any examination. You have the same advantage if you can append
+to your signature either of the following affixes: P.P. (Pertinacious
+Pusher) or C.I. (Chum of the Influential).
+
+"But if you can't sign these kinds of names, you will have to Make your
+Mark. It's a difficult mark, and requires a lot of learning.
+
+"As the first instalment of twenty-five pounds down is all I am ever
+likely to get, I will take it now--no, that one won't do; it's a
+peppermint-drop, not a sovereign. _That's_ not the way to get on, young
+man!"
+
+"Isn't it?" asked young Bansted Downs thoughtfully. "I'm glad you told
+me. I thought perhaps it might be; but, of course, I've got to learn."
+
+That very week young Bansted Downs commenced his studies under the
+Master Genius. He found he had a very great deal to learn.
+
+"The difference between talent and genius is that talent does what it
+can and genius does what it must--you will find that in the poets," said
+the Master Genius. "Consequently, to be a genius, you need not feel that
+you have the _ability_ to do a thing, but only that it is _necessary_ to
+do it. A house-painter is a specimen of genius: he has not the ability
+to do his work; but he is compelled to do it in order to obtain the
+means for his Saturday drinks. But, of course, that's only one kind of
+genius. What we have to teach you first is to feel that you _must_ do
+something transcendent--and then all you've got to do is to do it--see?"
+
+So, acting on his instructions, young Bansted Downs went to the office
+and sat quite still day after day for a month or two, with his eyes
+fixed on space; and one afternoon at the end of that time he got up and
+rushed at Power junior (who took charge of him in these preliminary
+studies), and announced that he felt the irresistible impulse to do
+something great and wonderful.
+
+"What sort of thing?" asked the Junior Genius.
+
+"I don't know--anything--something stupendous and transcendent--a
+master-piece!" said young Bansted Downs.
+
+"Knock it off, then. Don't make a labour of it, mind; that would spoil
+all the genius of it. Just knock it off--shed it--see?"
+
+The apprentice went back to his stool in the corner and knocked off that
+scintillation of genius.
+
+"Very good for a beginner," said the Junior Genius; "you show much
+promise. I shall soon be able to hand you over to my father for the
+Higher Grades."
+
+And some time after that young Bansted Downs moved into the room of the
+Master Genius to learn the higher attributes of genius--eccentricity and
+obscureness. These were the most important parts of the qualifications,
+and he worked hard at acquiring them. The eccentricity had infinite
+ramifications extending into language, manner, dress, habits,
+appearance, and opinions. The teacher communicated a thousand little
+touches of eccentricity invaluable to a genius--such as the bringing out
+of a book of poems with the title printed upside down and the capitals
+at the end of the lines instead of the beginning; the wearing of the
+back hair tied in a bow under the tip of the nose, and so forth. The
+pupil learned to hop backwards on to a public platform, wearing his
+dress-coat upside down, to paint his figures with their bones outside
+their skin, to sob audibly when performing on the piano; and many other
+things necessary to the obtaining of his degrees.
+
+[Illustration: "A HOUSE-PAINTER IS A SPECIMEN OF GENIUS."]
+
+Having completed these studies, he was ready for the uphill work of
+trying to Make his Mark; and he found it a complicated bit of drawing
+too, far worse than the signature of a Chinese emperor--everything lay
+in the flourish.
+
+The Master Genius said that no one could Make his Mark without a great
+flourish; and the best way to make the flourish was to blow it on his
+own trumpet; so there was the expense of a trumpet.
+
+But he didn't seem able to get on; and after he had worn out a gross of
+pens in the attempt to Make his Mark he felt that he would never obtain
+his degrees, and took a back cistern-cupboard under the roof in a poor
+street, and fell into a low state.
+
+One day, as he was eating his weekly sausage at the Three Melancholy
+Geniuses, off Fleet Street, there entered a party whom he knew slightly
+and who had Made his Mark and passed all his degrees some time before.
+
+[Illustration: "TO SOB AUDIBLY WHEN PERFORMING ON THE PIANO."]
+
+"Haven't Made your Mark yet?" said this party. "Tell you what--why don't
+you get Boomed?"
+
+"Does it hurt?" asked young Bansted Downs.
+
+"Hurts your self-respect just a little and your respect for your
+fellow-creatures a little more--but it's nothing," replied the party.
+
+"Where do you go?"
+
+"To the Press Booming Department, of course. Just put your name down for
+Booming, and fill up a form, stating what you require said about you.
+You began all wrong: I never studied--I only went and put my name down
+the moment it occurred to me that I would be a genius. I called at the
+office every day, and shouted my name, and created disturbances, and got
+turned out; until at last they couldn't stand it any longer, and my turn
+came.
+
+[Illustration: "I CALLED AT THE OFFICE EVERY DAY AND SHOUTED MY NAME."]
+
+"They put a long article about me in every newspaper, all the same
+day--mostly interviews--and quoted me as a classic. Some of 'em
+described me as a painter, and others as a novelist: I never was either;
+but it answered all right."
+
+So young Bansted Downs went to the Booming office, and put his name
+down, and shouted; and the end of it was he got his Boom, and several
+editors wrote to him; and he began to be a little successful.
+
+He hired halls, and went before the public in person; and painted on the
+platform; and sang and played his own compositions to them; and recited
+his own poems, and acted his own plays; and told them about his own
+scientific researches, and his military, exploratory, judicial,
+political, and athletic achievements.
+
+But the thing dulled off, for one day a deputation of the public called
+at the Booming office to ask something about him; and the office had
+forgotten his name, and said that he wasn't being Boomed now, as Smith
+was up; and so the public got on an omnibus and went to Smith's hall,
+and Bansted Downs faded out.
+
+After that he was to be found all day at the Three Melancholy Geniuses,
+drooping over fours of Irish; and one day his late instructor happened
+to come in and find him thus, with his melancholy nose over the edge of
+his glass.
+
+"Haven't got your Head Above Water, I see?" said the Master Genius.
+"Sorry you haven't Made your Mark."
+
+"I've made a good many," said Downs, pointing to the wet rings on the
+counter.
+
+"Ah, that sort of mark's no use--unless you make it in Company," said
+the Genius.
+
+[Illustration: "HAVEN'T GOT YOUR HEAD ABOVE WATER, I SEE?"]
+
+One day, as young Bansted Downs sat in his cistern-cupboard biting his
+nails, a step was heard on the stair, and his late instructor entered.
+
+"I've been all wrong," he said, sitting down on the cistern. "I put you
+all wrong--I've put all my pupils all wrong. I fell down stairs lately
+and knocked my head, and when I got up I saw everything--the light broke
+in upon me!"
+
+"Why, you've cut your hair, and you're dressed quite neatly--I should
+hardly have known you for a Master Genius at all!" exclaimed young
+Bansted Downs.
+
+"I am no longer a Genius--I am now the M.W.K.A.A.I.--the Man Who Knows
+All About It. I now know why genius fails to get the Ear of the Public,
+and is not appreciated----"
+
+"Fault of the public--everybody knew that before," growled young Bansted
+Downs.
+
+"Pardon me, it is not the fault of the poor public, but the fault of the
+system. We--the entertainers--have made the mistake of being geniuses;
+whereas we had no business to meddle with genius at all.
+
+"It is the public who ought to have the genius; _they_ should have the
+lively appreciation, the keen sense of humour, the afflatus, and all
+that; and then those who cater for them would not need to trouble about
+those things--they would only have to cater, and leave the public to
+perceive, by means of their genius, the excellences of the fare
+provided. If a plain person does something, and geniuses perceive
+greatness in it, that's a right state of affairs; but if a genius does
+something great, and plain persons fail to appreciate it, that's a wrong
+state of things, and a waste of material---see?"
+
+"And what do you propose to do?" asked young Bansted Downs.
+
+"That's very simple--just make geniuses of the public. Of course the
+public, having their own affairs to attend to, will not wish to turn
+caterers and originate--their province is to appreciate, perceive,
+applaud, and pay at the doors--see? By this system any dullard is
+enabled, without effort, fatigue, or preliminary study, to Make his Mark
+and get his F.I., his E.P., and his H.A.W. A child could use it."
+
+"But," objected young Bansted Downs, "under your system, dullardism
+paying so well, everybody would want to cater for the public, and there
+wouldn't be any audience--any public."
+
+"Pooh! The system at present in vogue is all I require--compulsory
+education. Everybody will have to be educated as a genius, except a few
+who will be specially exempted from attendance at the Board schools to
+enable them to lie fallow and fit themselves for originators.
+
+"Of course, you may say that it would not be _necessary_ for the
+entertainer to be dull. Of course it would not; but, as it is not
+necessary for him to be a genius either, there would be a waste of
+public money in educating him as one. In fact, it might be a
+disadvantage for both originator and appreciator to be geniuses, and
+their conceptions might clash and create confusion. It's better for a
+conception to be lighted from one side only, as you get more contrast."
+
+"But would not the genius of the spectator simply perceive the dulness
+of the originator?"
+
+"Not in the least. It's just the sphere of genius to perceive, in a
+given production, excellences which the ordinary observer fails to
+detect; and it's only a question of degree of genius. I take it that
+perfect genius can detect perfect excellence in everything submitted to
+its discrimination. And now, will you be kind enough to come and vote
+for me, as for the furtherance of my scheme I am offering myself as
+Chairman of the School Board?"
+
+In due course, the Man Who Knew All About It was elected to the School
+Board. He secured this by publishing handbills declaring his intention
+to squander the rate-payers' money like water, and provide free food,
+clothing, lodging, sweets, tobacco, drinks, theatres, and pianos to all
+the Board school children and their parents, relatives, and friends. The
+public judged by the proceedings of past candidates, all of whom had
+deliberately broken their promises on coming into office; and they
+concluded that this one would do so as well, and refuse to spend a
+penny. The Board were compelled to choose him as Chairman; and he at
+once commenced his work of reform.
+
+Genius took the place of all the former studies at the Board schools: no
+pupil was permitted to leave until he had passed the fifth standard,
+which turned him out a full-fledged genius; and he had to attend until
+he _could_ pass it, even if he became old and decrepit. This was a wise
+step; for, had this rule been relaxed, those unable to pass the standard
+would have joined the ranks of the originators, and thus flooded the
+market.
+
+[Illustration: "THE GENIUS CLASS AT THE BOARD SCHOOL."]
+
+Young Bansted Downs now set himself to steadily forgetting all the
+genius he had learned, feeling that it would be nothing but an
+incumbrance in his new career; and he succeeded so well that in the
+course of a few years he had become as dull as ditch-water.
+
+Meanwhile a new public were growing up, a public of such brilliant
+perceptions--so great a faculty of appreciation--that they were quite
+bewildered with the excellences they perceived in everything around
+them.
+
+To take the sense of humour alone: they possessed it to so marvellous an
+extent that they could perceive a joke in the passing cloud,
+facetiousness in the growth of flowers, a choice witticism in the rates
+and taxes, an incentive to mirth in strikes. Not that they were
+incessantly giggling--that would have argued a something wanting; no,
+they drank in and appreciated and enjoyed the universal humour, and
+their eyes were bright.
+
+So, when young Bansted Downs was middle-aged Bansted Downs he started
+all over again in quite a different way: he just wrote twaddle, and
+painted twaddle, and composed twaddle; and went on to a platform and
+twaddled about twaddle: and the public genius detected the brilliancy
+lurking in it all, and they were in ecstacies.
+
+A terrible thing happened to the Boom Department of the Press. One day
+the public arose as one man and remarked that they were capable of
+finding out merit for themselves and no longer required the Department;
+and they took large stones, and bad eggs, and dead cats, and fagots of
+wood, and proceeded to the Boom Department; and it was in vain that the
+head of the Department came out on the balcony and pleaded that the
+Booming System, as practised by the Press, had nothing to do with the
+finding-out of merit; for the public smashed the windows and burned the
+offices, and abolished the Boom Department.
+
+[Illustration: "A CHOICE WITTICISM IN THE RATES AND TAXES."]
+
+However, nobody required Booming now, as absence of ability was no
+longer a bar to fame; and things worked far more happily than they ever
+had under the old system. Authors and others no longer pined under want
+of appreciation; on the contrary, they were always wildly surprised at
+the wonderful things the public discovered in their work; and as for the
+public, they were vastly contented.
+
+It's the true system--there's not a question about that.
+
+J. F. SULLIVAN.
+
+[Illustration: TABLES OF ALL AGES]
+
+[Illustration: COMPLIMENTARY (A FACT).
+
+     GLADYS: "GRANDPA, WHAT ARE THOSE STRINGS MADE OF?"
+
+     GRANDPA: "CAT-GUT, MY DEAR."
+
+     GLADYS: "WHAT'S THAT?"
+
+     GRANDPA (JOKINGLY): "OH, THE INSIDES OF PUSSIES DEAR."
+
+     GLADYS (AFTER A PAUSE): "I SUPPOSE THEY FOUND OUT THEY WERE
+     GOOD FOR THAT ON ACCOUNT OF THE NOISE CATS MAKE!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: TURN THESE UPSIDE DOWN.]
+
+
+
+
+INDEX.
+
+
+                                                                       PAGE
+ADJUTANT'S LOVE STORY, THE. From the French of LE COMTE ALFRED
+DE VIGNY
+    (_Illustrations_ by H. R. MILLAR.)                                  528
+
+ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES. By A. CONAN DOYLE.
+    (_Illustrations_ by SIDNEY PAGET.)
+
+  XIV.--THE ADVENTURE OF THE CARDBOARD BOX                               61
+
+  XV.--THE ADVENTURE OF THE YELLOW FACE                                 162
+
+  XVI.--THE ADVENTURE OF THE STOCKBROKER'S CLERK                        281
+
+  XVII.--THE ADVENTURE OF THE "GLORIA SCOTT"                            395
+
+  XVIII.--THE ADVENTURE OF THE MUSGRAVE RITUAL                          479
+
+  XIX.--THE ADVENTURE OF THE REIGATE SQUIRE                             601
+
+"AUTHOR! AUTHOR!" By E. W. HORNUNG                                      241
+    (_Illustrations_ by W. S. STACEY.)
+
+
+BARNARDO, DR. (_See_ "ILLUSTRATED INTERVIEWS.")                         173
+
+BEAUTIES:--
+
+  I.--LADIES: THE COUNTESS OF ANNESLEY, THE MISSES HATHAWAY
+      (TWINS), MISS HAYTER, MISS LEE, MISS MENCE                         74
+
+  II.--CHILDREN: MISS BEAUMONT, MISS CROSS, MISS DUNLOP, MISS
+       MARGUERITE FOSTER, MISS SERJEANT, MISS WATERLOW, MISS WHITE,
+       MISSES WHITE, MISS WINSTEAD                                      186
+
+  III.--LADIES: PRINCESS AHMADEE, MADAME ARNOLDSON, MISS DOROTHY
+        DORR, MISS FLO HENDERSON, MISS KINGSLEY, MISS ALICE
+        LETHBRIDGE, MADAME SCHIRMER-MAPLESON, MLLE. DEL TORRE,
+        MISS WEBSTER                                                    292
+
+  IV.--LADIES: MISS ARCHER, LADY CHARLES BERESFORD, MISS FLO
+       BERESFORD, MISS BRANSON, MRS. BRATE, MISS LLOYD, MISS
+       DECIMA MOORE, MISS RIPLEY, MISS NELLIE SIMMONS                   415
+
+  V.--CHILDREN: MISS KATE BIRCH, MISS DORIS COLLINS, MISS ERNA
+      COLLINS, MISS GASCOYNE DALZIEL, MISS ELSIE DIEDRICHS, MISS
+      GLADYS HERBERT, MISS DOROTHY NORCUTT, MISS MAUDE WALLIS,
+      MISS KATHLEEN WHITE                                               525
+
+  VI.--LADIES: LADY ABERDEEN, MISS ELLA BANISTER, MISS C. L. FOOTE,
+       MISS FRIEND, MISS L. HAROLD, MISS A. HUGHES, MRS. MARSH, MISS
+       ALICE RAVENSCROFT, MISS NORAH WILLIAMS                           613
+
+
+CARDS, PECULIAR PLAYING                                             77, 148
+
+CHILD'S TEAR, A. From the French of EDOUARD LEMOINE                      95
+(_Illustrations_ by PAUL HARDY.)
+
+COURTSHIP OF HALIL, THE. By A. F. BURN                                   84
+(_Illustrations_ by H. R. MILLAR.)
+
+
+DARK TRANSACTION, A.    By MARIANNE KENT                                362
+(_Illustrations_ by PAUL HARDY.)
+
+DEAD OF NIGHT, AT. By MRS. NEWMAN                                       498
+(_Illustrations_ by W. B. WOLLEN.)
+
+DICTATES OF FASHION, FUTURE                                             551
+(_Written_ and _Illustrated_ by W. CADE GALL.)
+
+FASHION, FUTURE DICTATES OF                                             551
+
+FURNISS, MR. HARRY. (_See_ "ILLUSTRATED INTERVIEWS.")                   571
+
+
+GAME OF CHESS, A. Translated from the French                            219
+    (_Illustrations_ by PAUL HARDY.)
+
+
+HANDS. By BECKLES WILLSON                                          119, 295
+    (_Illustrations_ from Photographs of Casts.)
+
+HUMANE SOCIETY, ROYAL. With Portraits of Winners of the Medals     370, 446
+    (_Illustrations_ from Photographs.)
+
+
+ILLUSTRATED INTERVIEWS. By HARRY HOW.
+
+  XIX.--THE LORD BISHOP OF RIPON                                         12
+    (_Illustrations_ from Photographs by Messrs. ELLIOTT & FRY.)
+
+  XX.--DR. BARNARDO                                                     173
+    (_Illustrations_ from Photographs by Messrs. ELLIOTT & FRY.)
+
+  XXI.--MR. AND MRS. KENDAL                                             228
+    (_Illustrations_ by MR. KENDAL; and from Photographs by Messrs.
+      ELLIOTT & FRY.)
+
+  XXII.--SIR ROBERT RAWLINSON                                           513
+    (_Illustrations_ from Drawings and Paintings; and from Photographs
+      by Messrs. ELLIOTT & FRY.)
+
+  XXIII.--MR. HARRY FURNISS                                             571
+    (_Illustrations_ by HARRY FURNISS; and from Photographs by
+      Messrs. ELLIOTT & FRY.)
+
+
+KENDAL, MR. AND MRS. (_See_ "ILLUSTRATED INTERVIEWS.")                  228
+
+
+LIEUTENANT GAUTHIER.   From the French of JOS� DE CAMPOS                616
+    (_Illustrations_ by H. R. MILLAR.)
+
+LITTLE SURPRISE, A. Adapted from the French of A. DREYFUS by
+CONSTANCE BEERBOHM                                                       25
+    (_Illustrations_ by W. S. STACEY.)
+
+
+MAJOR'S COMMISSION, THE. By W. CLARK RUSSELL                            138
+    (_Illustrations_by W. CHRISTIAN SYMONS.)
+
+
+NANKEEN JACKET, THE. From the French of GUSTAVE GUESVILLER              418
+    (_Illustrations_ by H. R. MILLAR.)
+
+
+ONE AND TWO. By WALTER BESANT                                            44
+    (_Illustrations_ by JOHN G�LICH.)
+
+
+PIERRE AND BAPTISTE. By BECKLES WILLSON                                 547
+    (_Illustrations_ by PAUL HARDY.)
+
+PLAYING CARDS, PECULIAR.   By GEORGE CLULOW                         77, 148
+    (_Illustrations_ from facsimiles of Curious Playing Cards.)
+
+PORTRAITS OF CELEBRITIES AT DIFFERENT TIMES OF THEIR LIVES:--
+
+  ABEL, SIR FREDERICK, BART.                                            589
+
+  ADLER, DR. HERMANN                                                    278
+
+  ALISON, SIR ARCHIBALD                                                 279
+
+  BATTERSEA, LORD                                                       274
+
+  BERESFORD, LORD CHARLES                                               393
+
+  COWEN, FREDERIC H.                                                    161
+
+  FURNISS, HARRY                                                        586
+
+  GIRARD, MISS DOROTHEA                                                  59
+
+  GOULD, REV. S. BARING                                                 392
+
+  HADING, MADAME JANE                                                   280
+
+  HALL�, SIR CHARLES                                                    277
+
+  HALL�, LADY                                                           276
+
+  HARDY, MISS IZA DUFFUS                                                473
+
+  HAWEIS, REV. H. R.                                                    160
+
+  HERKOMER, MR. HUBERT, R.A.                                            474
+
+  HOUGHTON, LORD                                                        156
+
+  HUNTER, COLIN, A.R.A.                                                 588
+
+  KELVIN, LORD                                                          590
+
+  KNILL, MR. STUART (LORD MAYOR)                                         60
+
+  LESLIE, THE LATE FRED                                                  58
+
+  LLOYD, EDWARD                                                         478
+
+  MACWHIRTER, JOHN, R.A.                                                476
+
+  NICOL, ERSKINE, A.R.A.                                                475
+
+  ORCHARDSON, W. Q., R.A.                                               275
+
+  PETTIE, JOHN, R.A.                                                    157
+
+  POTTER, MRS. BROWN                                                    389
+
+  PRINCESS MARIE OF EDINBURGH                                            56
+
+  PRINCE FERDINAND OF ROUMANIA                                           57
+
+  PRINCE OF WALES                                                       390
+
+  PRINCESS OF WALES                                                     391
+
+  REID, SIR GEORGE, P.R.S.A.                                            587
+
+  ROBERTS, JOHN                                                         394
+
+  ROBERTSON, J. FORBES                                                  477
+
+  RUSSELL, W. CLARK                                                      55
+
+  TECK, DUCHESS OF                                                      158
+
+  TECK, DUKE OF                                                         159
+
+  VAUGHAN, CARDINAL                                                     591
+
+  VAUGHAN, CARDINAL, FATHER AND BROTHERS OF                             592
+
+PRINCE OF WALES AT SANDRINGHAM, THE                                     327
+    (_Illustrations_ from Photographs by BEDFORD LEMERE and W. & D.
+      DOWNEY.)
+
+
+QUASTANA THE BRIGAND. From the French of ALPHONSE DAUDET                124
+    (_Illustrations_ by JEAN DE PAL�OLOGUE.)
+
+QUEER SIDE OF THINGS, THE:--
+
+  BOTTLE FROM THE DEEP SEA, A                                           214
+
+  CHILDREN OF A THOUSAND YEARS                                          542
+
+  CLOAKS AND MANTLES                                                    106
+
+  CROCODILE STORY, A                                                    324
+
+  DRINKING VESSELS OF ALL AGES                                          322
+
+  DWINDLING HOUR, THE                                                    98
+
+  EXPLOSION OF A LOCOMOTIVE                                             214
+
+  HORSE AND ITS OCCUPATIONS, THE                                        430
+
+  HUNTER AND THE BIRD, THE                                              108
+
+  JUDGE'S PENANCE, THE                                                  535
+
+  MANDRAKE ROOTS                                                        105
+
+  MISCELLANEOUS                                                         648
+
+  N.P.M.C., THE                                                         315
+
+  OLD JOE'S PICNIC                                                      423
+
+  PAL'S PUZZLES                                                    104, 215
+
+  ROOM PAPERED WITH STAMPS                                              321
+
+  SAGACITY OF A DOG                                                     216
+
+  STORY OF THE KING'S IDEA                                              209
+
+  TABLES OF A CENTURY                                                   646
+
+  TURNIP RESEMBLING A HUMAN HAND                                        321
+
+  USE FOR GENIUS                                                        639
+
+  VEGETABLE ODDITIES                                               214, 432
+
+  WHO ARE THESE?                                                        544
+
+
+RAWLINSON, SIR ROBERT. (_See_ "ILLUSTRATED INTERVIEWS.")                513
+
+RIPON, THE LORD BISHOP OF. (_See_ "ILLUSTRATED INTERVIEWS.")             12
+
+ROSITA. From the French of PITRE CHEVALIER                              302
+    (_Illustrations_ by H. R. MILLAR.)
+
+
+SANDRINGHAM, THE PRINCE OF WALES AT                                     327
+    (_Illustrations_ from Photographs.)
+
+SHADOW OF THE SIERRAS, IN THE. By IZA DUFFUS HARDY                      433
+    (_Illustrations_ by PAUL HARDY.)
+
+SHAFTS FROM AN EASTERN QUIVER. By CHARLES J. MANSFORD, B.A.
+
+  VII.--MARGARITA, THE BOND QUEEN OF THE WANDERING DHAHS                  3
+  VIII.--THE MASKED RULER OF THE BLACK WRECKERS                         189
+  IX.--MAW SAYAH, THE KEEPER OF THE GREAT BURMAN NAT                    258
+  X.--THE HUNTED TRIBE OF THREE HUNDRED PEAKS                           340
+  XI.--IN QUEST OF THE LOST GALLEON                                     453
+  XII.--THE DAUGHTER OF LOVETSKI THE LOST                               561
+    (_Illustrations_ by A. PEARSE.)
+
+SLAVE, A. By LEILA HANOUM. Translated from a Turkish Story              203
+  (_Illustrations_ by H. R. MILLAR.)
+
+SPEAKER'S CHAIR, FROM BEHIND THE.  Viewed by H. W. LUCY       89, 198, 267,
+                                                              381, 490, 624
+  (_Illustrations_ by F. C. GOULD.)
+
+STRANGE REUNION, A.    By T. G. ATKINSON                                376
+  (_Illustrations_ by A. J. JOHNSON.)
+
+
+TYPES OF ENGLISH BEAUTY.   (_See_ "BEAUTIES.")
+
+
+WEATHERCOCKS AND VANES                                                  351
+  (_Written_ and _Illustrated_ by WARRINGTON HOGG.)
+
+WEDDING GIFT, A.    By LEONARD OUTRAM                                   111
+  (_Illustrations_ by PAUL HARDY.)
+
+WORK OF ACCUSATION, A.    By HARRY HOW                                  633
+  (_Illustrations_ by JOHN G�LICH.)
+
+
+ZIG-ZAGS AT THE ZOO.    By ARTHUR MORRISON.
+
+  VII.--ZIG-ZAG CURSOREAN                                                35
+  VIII.--ZIG-ZAG PHOCINE                                                129
+  IX.--ZIG-ZAG CONKAVIAN                                                248
+  X.--ZIG-ZAG OPHIDIAN                                                  407
+  XI.--ZIG-ZAG MARSUPIAL                                                464
+  XII.--ZIG-ZAG ACCIPITRAL                                              593
+
+    (_Illustrations_ by J. A. SHEPHERD.)
+
+GEORGE NEWNES, LIMITED. 8, 9, 10 AND 11, SOUTHAMPTON STREET, AND EXETER
+STREET, STRAND. W.C.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Strand Magazine, Volume V, Issue
+30, June 1893, by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STRAND MAGAZINE ***
+
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+      The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Strand, Volume 5, Issue 30, June 1893.
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+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Strand Magazine, Volume V, Issue 30,
+June 1893, 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: The Strand Magazine, Volume V, Issue 30, June 1893
+       An Illustrated Monthly
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: George Newnes
+
+Release Date: January 7, 2008 [EBook #24188]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STRAND MAGAZINE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Victorian/Edwardian Pictorial Magazines,
+Jonathan Ingram, Josephine Paolucci and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+
+
+<h1>THE STRAND</h1>
+
+<h2>AN ILLUSTRATED MONTHLY</h2>
+
+
+<h3>Vol. 5, Issue 30.</h3>
+
+<h4>June 1893</h4>
+
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_547" id="Page_547">[Pg 547]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 324px;">
+<img src="images/image547.jpg" width="324" height="500" alt="&quot;The Head Book-keeper Stepped Out of the Safe.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;<span class="smcap">The Head Book-keeper Stepped Out of the Safe.</span>&quot;<br />
+(<i>Pierre and Baptiste.</i>)</span>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/image548-1.jpg" width="500" height="304" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">By Beckles Willson</span>.</h3>
+
+
+<p>I once knew two industrious mechanics named Pierre and Baptiste. They
+dwelt in a ramshackle tenement at Sault aux Bel&oelig;uil, where each had
+half-a-dozen children to support, besides their wives; who, it is
+grievous to relate, were drones. They were only nominally acquainted
+with that godly art commonly associated with charwomen.</p>
+
+<p>Pierre and Baptiste were hard workers. They worked far into the night
+and, occasionally, the thin mists of dawn had begun to break on the
+narrow city pavements before their labours would cease. No one could
+truthfully say that theirs was not a hard-earned pillow. Sometimes they
+did not toil in vain. It depended largely upon the police.</p>
+
+<p>It was early one November that this horny-handed pair planned the
+burglary of a certain safe located in a wholesale establishment in St.
+Mark Street. On the particular evening that Pierre and Baptiste hit upon
+for the deed, the head book-keeper had been having a wrangle with his
+accounts.</p>
+
+<p>"I can't make head or tail of this!" he declared to his employer, the
+senior member of the firm, "yet I am convinced everything must be right.
+An error of several hundred dollars has been carried over from each
+daily footing, but where the error begins or ends, I'm blessed if I can
+find out."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/image548-2.jpg" width="400" height="336" alt="&quot;THE HEAD BOOK-KEEPER HAD BEEN HAVING A WRANGLE WITH HIS ACCOUNTS.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;THE HEAD BOOK-KEEPER HAD BEEN HAVING A WRANGLE WITH HIS ACCOUNTS.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>The fact was that the monthly sales had been unusually heavy, and a page
+of the balance had been mislaid. The head book-keeper spent upwards of
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_548" id="Page_548">[Pg 548]</a></span>an hour in casting up both the entries of himself and his subordinates
+after the establishment had closed its doors for the day.</p>
+
+<p>Then he went home to supper, determined to return and locate the
+deficit, if he didn't get a wink of sleep until morning.</p>
+
+<p>Book-keepers, it must be borne in mind, have highly sensitive organisms,
+which are susceptible to the smallest atom reflecting upon their probity
+or skill. At half-past eight the book-keeper returned and commenced anew
+his critical calculations. He worked precisely three hours and a half;
+at the end of which period he suddenly clapped his hand to his forehead
+and exclaimed:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Idiot! Why haven't you looked in the safe for a missing sheet? Ten
+chances to one they have been improperly numbered!"</p>
+
+<p>He turned over the pages of the balance on his desk, and, sure enough,
+the usual numerical mark or designation in the upper left-hand corner
+which should follow eleven was missing. Page twelve, in all likelihood,
+had slipped into some remote corner of the safe.</p>
+
+<p>The safe was a large one, partially receding into the wall and
+containing all the papers, documents, and several day receipts in cash
+and drafts of the firm.</p>
+
+<p>The head book-keeper, in his efforts at unearthing the lost page of the
+cash balance, was obliged to intrude his entire person into the safe.
+Fearful lest the candle he held should attract attention from the
+street, showing out as it did against the black recesses of the safe,
+upon entering he drew the door slightly ajar.</p>
+
+<p>As he stepped in the tail of his coat caught on an angle of the huge
+riveted lock; the massive gate swung to as if it weighed no more than a
+pound, and the book-keeper was a prisoner.</p>
+
+<p>He heard a resonant click&mdash;that was all. His candle went out.</p>
+
+<p>The book-keeper at the outset lost his presence of mind. He fought like
+a caged animal. He first exerted almost superhuman strength against the
+four sides of the iron tomb. Then his body collapsed and, not for an
+instant losing consciousness, he found himself sitting in a partially
+upright posture, unable to so much as stir a muscle.</p>
+
+<p>It was almost at the same moment, although hours seemed to have passed,
+that the drum of his ear, now abnormally sensitive, was almost split
+into fragments. A frightful monotonous clangour rent the interior of the
+safe.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image549.jpg" width="450" height="499" alt="&quot;HE STEPPED IN.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;HE STEPPED IN.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>The book-keeper used to observe afterwards that a single second's
+deviation of characteristic thought and he would have gone mad. Stronger
+minds in a parallel situation would have indeed collapsed. But a weaker
+man can never confront the inevitable, but clings more stubbornly to
+hope. They are only weak individualities who, in the act of drowning,
+catch at straws.</p>
+
+<p>As the book-keeper felt himself gradually growing faint for want of air
+to breathe, his revivified hope led him to deliberately crash his fist
+into the woodwork with which the interior of the safe was fitted, in
+secretaire fashion, one drawer being built above another. This gave him
+a few additional cubic feet of air.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_549" id="Page_549">[Pg 549]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>As may have been conjectured, the noise which smote the book-keeper's
+ear was that of a drill. Although acutely discerned within, the sound
+was practically smothered on the outside of the vault.</p>
+
+<p>At one end of the drill was a cavity, rapidly growing larger, in one of
+the steel panels. At its other end was a heavy, warty fist, part of the
+anatomy of Baptiste, the industrious mechanic. Baptiste held the drill
+while his comrade, Pierre, pounded it in.</p>
+
+<p>Soon the two burglars became aware that some sort of animal commotion
+was going on within the safe. It nearly drove them into convulsions of
+astonishment. Baptiste was so startled that he dropped the drill.</p>
+
+<p>"It is a ghost," he said.</p>
+
+<p>Baptiste was for throwing up the job uncompromisingly on the spot, but
+this proposal met with obstacles. His fellow workman, who was of stiffer
+courage, rejected it with scorn, as savouring too much of the
+superstitious. Pierre had a large family to support, he argued. He spoke
+frankly. They could not afford to throw away the opportunities of
+Providence. To his friend and co-labourer, the burden of his remarks
+was:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"<i>L&acirc;che!</i> Go hon! You make me tired wiz yer ghosts an' tings. Let's not
+have no beast foolin'&mdash;see? De job is commence: <i>Allons!</i>"</p>
+
+<p>The upshot of this was that Pierre and Baptiste went back to work. At
+the third crack of the drill, Pierre crossed himself, and said:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Baptiste, dere's a man in dat safe!"</p>
+
+<p>Both men grew pale as death at the very suggestion. Baptiste, for
+instance, was so frightened he couldn't utter a syllable. His tongue
+clove to the roof of his mouth. However, Pierre, as usual, was the first
+to recover. He applied his ear, first to the lock and then to the
+drill-hole.</p>
+
+<p>"Hey, in dere!" he cried, yet not so loud as to be heard on the
+side-walk. To this there came a faint response&mdash;a very faint shout
+indeed; it sounded as if it were a mile away:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"For God's sake, give me air! I am locked in here. Try and burst open
+the safe!"</p>
+
+<p>The two burglars did not stop to talk, but went at once to work as if
+their own lives depended on the result, instead of the life of the
+mysterious occupant of the vault. In less than four minutes they had a
+hole, somewhat smaller than the business end of a collar-button, knocked
+into the panel of the vault.</p>
+
+<p>Then Pierre and Baptiste paused to wipe the sweat from their brows. The
+man inside breathed.</p>
+
+<p>It was now that the pair began to muse on the d&eacute;nouement. Could this be
+a member of the firm or an employ&eacute;? This hypothesis jeopardized the
+success of the night's adventure, unless, when they had permitted the
+prisoner to emerge, they bound and gagged him into silence.</p>
+
+<p>On the other hand, this course would have an ugly look. If he resisted
+it might mean murder in the end; whereas, if they did not let him out at
+all, they would stand no chance of profiting by the pecuniary contents
+of the safe. Besides, as the man could scarcely live thus until morning,
+they would be responsible for his taking off. Thus reasoned Pierre and
+Baptiste.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image550.jpg" width="450" height="325" alt="&quot;BOTH MEN GREW PALE AS DEATH.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;BOTH MEN GREW PALE AS DEATH.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_550" id="Page_550">[Pg 550]</a></span></p>
+<p>These were not highly comforting reflections, but there was still
+another and a better in reserve. What if, after all, the man were
+himself a felon? Might he not be a companion crib-cracker? In that case
+they would merely have to divide the spoils.</p>
+
+<p>"Hey, in dere," cried Pierre, suddenly struck with an idea. "What is de
+combination hof de safe?"</p>
+
+<p>"Fifteen&mdash;three&mdash;seventy-three!" came back in sepulchral tones.</p>
+
+<p>It was evidently growing harder and harder to draw breath through the
+tiny aperture.</p>
+
+<p>Thus it transpired that at the expiration of fifteen seconds the lock of
+the vault gave back the same resonant click it had rendered eight
+minutes previously. Thanks to the timely advent of Pierre and Baptiste
+it opened as lightly, as airily, and as decisively as it had closed 480
+seconds before on the unhappy accountant.</p>
+
+<p>The head book-keeper gasped once or twice, but without any assistance
+stepped out into the free air. He was very pale and his dress was much
+rent and disordered when his feet touched the floor. But this pallor
+quickly made way for a red flush at perceiving the two burglars, with
+the implements of their profession strewn around them.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile Pierre and Baptiste themselves stood transfixed by the sheer
+novelty of the situation.</p>
+
+<p>Without any kind of speech or warning, or without making any attempt at
+bravado, the book-keeper walked deliberately to his desk and rang an
+electric call for the police. Simultaneously it seemed, for so rapid and
+quiet was the action, he opened a drawer, took out a small revolver, and
+covered both burglars with a fatal precision. As he did so he uttered
+these remarkable words:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Gentlemen, I would, indeed, be the basest of men if I did not feel
+profoundly grateful for the service you have just rendered me. I shall
+always regard you as any right-minded man should regard those who have
+saved his life with imminent peril to themselves or, which is just the
+same, to their liberty. Any demand in reason you make of me I shall make
+an effort to perform&mdash;but my duty to my employers I regard as
+<i>paramount</i>. I have accumulated a little money, and with it I propose to
+engage the best counsel in your defence, which is certainly marked by
+mitigating circumstances. If, on the other hand, you are convicted&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>Here the officers of justice entered, having broken open the door with a
+crash.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image551.jpg" width="450" height="230" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_551" id="Page_551">[Pg 551]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/image552.jpg" width="500" height="256" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">By W. Cade Gall</span>.</h3>
+
+
+<p>An elderly gentleman of our acquaintance, whose reading has been rather
+desultory than profound, and tending rather to the quaint and
+speculative, was astonished recently at coming across a volume in his
+library of whose very existence he had been completely unaware. This
+volume was oblong in shape, was bound in mauve morocco, and was called
+"Past Dictates of Fashion; by Cromwell Q. Snyder, Vestamentorum Doctor."</p>
+
+<p>Glancing his eye downwards past a somewhat flippant sub-title, the
+elderly gentleman came, with intense amazement, to understand that the
+date of this singular performance was 1993. Other persons at a similar
+juncture would have pinched themselves to see if they were awake, or
+have tossed the book into the street as an uncanny thing. But our
+elderly gentleman being of an inquisitive and acquisitive turn of mind,
+despite his quaintness, recognised the fact that if he was not of the
+twentieth century the volume obviously was; seized pen and paper, and
+began to make notes with the speed of lightning. Being also something of
+a draughtsman he was able to embellish his notes with sketches from the
+engravings with which "Past Dictates of Fashion" was copiously
+furnished. These sketches appear with the present article.</p>
+
+<p>Fashion in dress, according to the twentieth century author,
+notwithstanding its apparent caprice, has always been governed by
+immutable laws. But these laws were not recognised in the benighted
+epoch in which we happen to live at present. On the contrary, Fashion is
+thought a whim, a sort of shuttlecock for the weak-minded of both sexes
+to make rise and fall, bound and rebound with the battledore
+called&mdash;social influence. But it will interest a great many people to
+learn that Fashion assumed the dignity of a science in 1940. Ten years
+later it was taken up by the University of Dublin. By the science as
+taught by the various Universities later on were explained those points
+in the history, manners, and literature of our own ancestors which were
+formerly obscure and, in fact, unknown. They were also, by certain
+strict rules, enabled to foretell the attire of posterity. Here is a
+curious passage from the introductory chapter to the book:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Cigars went out of fashion twenty years ago. Men and women consumed so
+much tobacco that their healths were endangered. The laws of Nature were
+powerless to cope with the evil. Not so the laws of Fashion, which at
+once abated it. It will, however, return in thirty-one years. In 1790
+Nature commanded men to bathe. They laughed at Nature. In 1810 Fashion
+did the same thing. Men complied, and daily cold baths became
+established. In 1900 it was pushed to extremes. The ultra-sect cut holes
+in the ice and plunged into the water. The fashion changed. For forty
+years only cads bathed."</p>
+
+<p>The following table is also interesting, and should be borne in mind in
+considering the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_552" id="Page_552">[Pg 552]</a></span> accompanying cuts. It professes to exhibit the
+sartorial characteristics of an epoch:&mdash;</p>
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">Table of Waves.</span></h4>
+
+
+
+<div class='center'>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="">
+<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='left'></td><td align='left'></td><td align='left'>Type.</td><td align='left'>Tendency.</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>1790</td><td align='left'>to</td><td align='left'>1815</td><td align='left'>Angustorial</td><td align='left'>Wobbling</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>1815</td><td align='left'>"</td><td align='left'>1840</td><td align='left'>Severe</td><td align='left'>Recuperative</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>1840</td><td align='left'>"</td><td align='left'>1875</td><td align='left'>Latorial</td><td align='left'>Decided</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>1875</td><td align='left'>"</td><td align='left'>1890</td><td align='left'>Tailor-made</td><td align='left'>Opaque</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>1890</td><td align='left'>"</td><td align='left'>1915</td><td align='left'>Ebullient</td><td align='left'>Bizarre</td></tr>
+<tr><td align='left'>1915</td><td align='left'>"</td><td align='left'>1940</td><td align='left'>Hysterical</td><td align='left'>Angustorial</td></tr>
+</table></div>
+
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/image553-1.jpg" width="300" height="320" alt="1893" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 250px;">
+<img src="images/image553-2.jpg" width="250" height="366" alt="1905" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>The first plate in the book is dated 1893, and serves as a frontispiece.
+The costumes of the lady and gentleman are familiar enough, although we
+note with surprise that the gentleman's coat-talks seem to have a
+crinoline cast, and if the turned-up bottoms of his trousers are a
+little mortifying, it is atoned for by a triumphant attitude which
+disarms hypercriticism. Also the lady's posture makes it difficult for
+us to tell whether it is a stick or an umbrella she is carrying.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 250px;">
+<img src="images/image553-3.jpg" width="250" height="421" alt="1908" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>There is a pictorial hiatus of some years, but the text notes that
+crinoline for women enjoyed a sway of some years' duration. For, taking
+the tracings from the plates in the order in which they are given in the
+book, we find a subdued form of the article in the female costume for
+1905. The ladies may well regard this plate as astounding. There is even
+a suggestion of "bloomer" about its nether portion, and if the hat is
+not without precedent in history, the waist is little short of
+revolutionary.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 250px;">
+<img src="images/image553-4.jpg" width="250" height="453" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>The next plate displays a gentleman's habit for the year 1908. The
+tailors, fifteen years hence, seemed to have borrowed, in the
+construction of the coat, very liberally from the lady's mantle of 1893.
+Apropos of this and the ensuing three plates, it is pleasing to be told,
+as we are by the author of this book, that the long reign of black is
+doomed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_553" id="Page_553">[Pg 553]</a></span> Towards the close of April, 1898, Lord Arthur Lawtrey appeared
+in the Park attired literally in purple and fine linen, <i>i.e.</i>, in a
+violet coat, with pale heliotrope trousers.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 250px;">
+<img src="images/image554-1.jpg" width="250" height="454" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 250px;">
+<img src="images/image554-2.jpg" width="250" height="369" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Yet, in spite of the opposition to Lord Arthur, the wave was due, and
+the affection for colour spread. The new century, at its birth, saw
+black relegated to the past&mdash;also to the future. This was midway in the
+Ebullient Age. Pent up for decades, mankind naturally began to slop over
+with sartorial enthusiasm. In 1920 its <i>bizarrerie</i> became offensive,
+and an opposition crusade was directed against it. Something had to be
+conceded. Trousers, which had been wavering between nautical buttons and
+gallooned knees&mdash;or, in the vernacular of the period, a sail three
+sheets in the wind and a flag at half-mast&mdash;were the items sacrificed.
+Knee-breeches enjoyed vogue for a time, but only for a time; for they
+vanished suddenly in 1930 and were replaced by tights or shapes. Boots
+made way for Elizabethan slippers. Hats had long since gone the way of
+the superannuated. Taught by the Darwinian theory, society discovered
+whence its tendency to baldness originated. They had recourse by degrees
+to flexible tiles of extraordinary cut.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 250px;">
+<img src="images/image554-3.jpg" width="250" height="344" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 250px;">
+<img src="images/image554-4.jpg" width="250" height="359" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>A further glance at the costume for the swells between 1902 and 1912
+reveals the existence of an entirely novel adjunct to male attire. Silk
+bows have been worn about the neck for nearly, if not quite, a century,
+but never in the body of the attire. It is true the gentleman as early
+as 1910 adorns his nether garments with a plain silk band, but in the
+elderly party of 1911 he has assumed gay ribbons for his shoes as well
+as at his knees and throat. In this plate we greet the presence of an
+unmistakable umbrella as a good omen. But it is only a short-lived
+rapture, for the spruce young party in the next sketch is balancing
+lightly between thumb and forefinger what we take to be nothing more or
+less than a shepherd's crook. This is hardly an edifying prospect. Yet
+if we do not altogether mistake<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_554" id="Page_554">[Pg 554]</a></span> the two wing-shaped objects projecting
+from his person, it is not the only feature of gentlemen's fashions
+twenty years hence which will occasion a shock. Nor must we overlook the
+frivolity of the lady of the same period who is doing her utmost to look
+pleasant under the most trying conditions. Yet it must be confessed that
+in spite of its intricate novelty and perplexity, the costume must still
+be called plain. One might be forgiven for surmising that the
+kerchief-shaped article covering a portion of the lady's bust is formed
+of riveted steel, for surely nothing else could support the intolerable
+load she is so blandly carrying off.</p>
+
+<p>Female costume seems to have always been regulated by the same waves and
+rules which governed male costume, but in a different degree. In the
+Ebullient period it is chiefly distinguished by head-dress and the total
+abolition of stays. Crinoline, in spite of certain opposition, enjoyed a
+slight revival in the present day, and in 1897 the divided skirt
+threatened to spread universally. But it passed off, and nothing of a
+radical order was attempted in this direction until the revolution which
+brought in trousers for women in 1942.</p>
+
+<p>Meantime, in the next plate of a lady's costume, which is dated 1922, we
+have presented a very rational and beautiful style of dress. The skirt,
+it is true, is short enough to alarm prim contemporary dames, and it is
+scarcely less assuring to find in the whole of the remaining plates only
+three periods when it seems to have got longer. But doubtless the very
+ample cloak, which is so long that it even trails upon the ground,
+extenuated and in some degree justified its shortness.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 250px;">
+<img src="images/image555-1.jpg" width="250" height="349" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 250px;">
+<img src="images/image555-2.jpg" width="250" height="346" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 251px;">
+<img src="images/image555-3.jpg" width="251" height="300" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>The plate dated 1920 exhibits a very gorgeous and yet altogether simple
+set of garments for the male of that period. We are told that the upper
+portion was of crimson plush, and the lower part of a delicate pink,
+with white stockings and orange boots. It were well had the leaders of
+fashion stopped at this, but it would appear that either their thirst
+for novelty was insatiable or the Hysterical Wave too strong for them,
+for in the incredibly short space of six years fashion had reached the
+stage depicted in the following plate. Yet, even<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_555" id="Page_555">[Pg 555]</a></span> then, the depth of
+folly and ugliness does not appear to have been sounded, for three years
+later, in 1929, we are favoured with a plate of what is presumably a
+husband and wife on their way to church or perchance upon a shopping
+excursion. The lady is evidently looking archly back to see if anybody
+is observing what a consummate guy her spouse is making of himself, for
+with all her sartorial short-comings she has certainly the best of the
+bargain. The prudes, too, seemed to have gained their point, for the
+skirt is considerably less scanty in the region of the ankles.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/image556-1.jpg" width="300" height="340" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>This skirt seems to have been rather a weak point with our posterity of
+the female persuasion, for in the next three or four plates we find it
+rising and falling with the habitual incorrigibility of a shilling
+barometer. The Oriental influence is easily traced in the fashions from
+1938 to 1945, but it cannot but make the judicious grieve to note that
+trousers seem to have been adopted by the women at the same time that
+they were discarded by the men.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 250px;">
+<img src="images/image556-2.jpg" width="250" height="475" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 250px;">
+<img src="images/image556-3.jpg" width="250" height="367" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>A further detail which might interest the student concerns the revival
+of lace, which transpired so early as 1905. Curiously enough, this
+dainty adjunct to the attire had fallen into desuetude among women. More
+curiously still, it remained for the sterner sex to revive it. For it
+was in that year that the backbone of stiff white collars and cuffs was
+broken. A material being sought which would weather the existing
+atmospheric conditions, it was yielded in lace, which continued in vogue
+for at least two generations.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/image556-4.jpg" width="300" height="327" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>If we look for the greatest donkey in the entire collection, it is
+obvious that we shall find him in the middle-aged party of 1936, who is
+gadding about in inflated trunks and with a fan in his hand. If it were
+not for the gloves and polka-dot neck-wear we should<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_556" id="Page_556">[Pg 556]</a></span> assume that this
+costume was a particularly fantastic bathing-suit. The youth of the
+ensuing year, in the next plate, is probably a son of the foregoing
+personage, for it is not difficult to detect a strong family likeness.
+As to the costume itself for 1937, barring the shaved head and
+Caledonian cap, there is nothing particular to be urged against it. It
+seems clearly a revival of the dress of the Middle Ages.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/image557-1.jpg" width="500" height="280" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>It is at least consoling to feel that only a very small minority of
+those who read this is destined to enliven our thoroughfares with such
+grotesque images as is furnished by the plate for 1945. The confidently
+asinine demeanour of this youth is hardly relieved by the absurdity of a
+watch suspended by a chain from the crown of his hat. That society
+protested against this aspect of idiocy is evinced by the harmonious
+costume for 1950, in which a complete revolution is to be noted. We
+hasten to observe that the latter plate&mdash;the one for 1948&mdash;is that of a
+clergyman.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/image557-2.jpg" width="500" height="277" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>There is very little beauty about the lady's costume for 1946, or in
+that of the child in the plate. That for 1950 is a great improvement.
+The exaggerated chignon has disappeared,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_557" id="Page_557">[Pg 557]</a></span> and two seasons later we find
+the costume fascinating to a degree, although certainly partaking more
+of the male than of the female order of dress. Without the cape it is
+not so captivating, as shown by the plate dated 1955-6, where both a
+lady and gentleman are shown, although to accord praise to either's
+hideous style of head-dress would be to abandon permanently all
+reputation for taste.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/image558-1.jpg" width="500" height="266" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>The policeman shown in the drawing for 1960 seems to have a very easy
+time of it, for no man's person can be considered in danger from the mob
+who habitually offers so many <i>points &agrave; saisir</i> as this policeman's head
+displays. We may likewise suspect the military gentleman depicted in the
+plate for 1965. It is not customary in the present day for army officers
+to affect umbrellas, but seventy years hence it may be found necessary
+to protect one's head-dress.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image558-2.jpg" width="450" height="276" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Mawkish describes the attire of the civilian of the same year, but in
+1970 we notice a distinct change for the better, although<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_558" id="Page_558">[Pg 558]</a></span> personally
+many of us would doubtless strenuously object to wearing neckties of the
+magnitude here portrayed. In 1975 costume seems to have taken a step
+backward, and the literary young gentleman, who is the hero of the
+engraving, may well be carrying about his MSS. inside his umbrella.
+Whatever may be the merits of the spring fashions for 1978, it would
+appear to have been universal (to speak of the future in the past
+tense), for both these young gallants are dressed precisely alike. Of
+the three remaining designs, that of 1984 appears to us to exhibit the
+contour of the lady's figure most generously, and to have certain
+agreeable and distinctive traits of its own which are not only lacking
+in the gentleman's apparel, but are absent from the inane conception
+which appears to have obtained vogue five years later.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 250px;">
+<img src="images/image559-1.jpg" width="250" height="462" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 250px;">
+<img src="images/image559-2.jpg" width="250" height="451" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/image559-3.jpg" width="300" height="356" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/image559-4.jpg" width="300" height="315" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>As to the last plate in the series, we can only remark that if the
+character of our male<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_559" id="Page_559">[Pg 559]</a></span> posterity after four or five generations is to be
+as effeminate as its attire, the domination by the fair sex cannot be
+many centuries distant. The gentleman appears to be lost in
+contemplation of a lighted cigar. If he possessed the gift of seeing
+himself as others now see him, he would probably transfer his attentions
+to another and not less contiguous quarter.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image560.jpg" width="450" height="666" alt="Spring and Summer Fashions, 1932." title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>In a general review of the costumes of the forthcoming century the
+Doctor observes:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"The seventeenth is famous as the brown; the eighteenth is with us the
+yellow; and the nineteenth we term the black century. I am asked my
+opinion of the twentieth. It is motley. It has seen the apotheosis of
+colour. Yet in worshipping colour we do not confound the order of
+things. As is the twentieth, so was the fifteenth."</p>
+
+<p>The author furthermore observes that "the single article of apparel
+which stands out most silhouetted against the background of the 19th
+century's dress is its hard, shiny, black head-gear. It is without a
+parallel. It is impossible for us to conceive of a similar article
+surviving for so long a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_560" id="Page_560">[Pg 560]</a></span> period; and I venture to say, versed as I am in
+the science, nothing more absurd and irredeemably inappropriate, or more
+openly violating in texture and contour every rational idea on the
+subject, was ever launched. In 1962 the neck was left bare, in the
+n&eacute;glig&eacute; fashion, in imitation of Butts, the &aelig;sthete who the year
+previously had discovered the North Pole. In 1970, however, ruffs were
+resumed and are still worn, and I regret to say are growing in
+magnitude, until they threaten to eclipse precedent."</p>
+
+<p>At this juncture the notes and nap together terminated, for our elderly
+gentleman woke up.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 250px;">
+<img src="images/image561-1.jpg" width="250" height="441" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 250px;">
+<img src="images/image561-2.jpg" width="250" height="376" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_561" id="Page_561">[Pg 561]</a></span></p>
+<h2><i>Shafts from an Eastern Quiver.</i></h2>
+
+<h2>XII.&mdash;THE DAUGHTER OF LOVETSKI THE LOST.</h2>
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">By Charles J. Mansford</span>, B.A.</h3>
+
+
+<h4>I.</h4>
+
+<p>"Our journey seems to have no end, Harold," remarked Denviers, as he
+lashed the horses which drew our sledge over the dreary plain; "for a
+week we have been pressing on, night and day almost, in the hope of
+coming across the hut near the road over which the exiles pass. If that
+mujik told us the truth, we certainly ought to have seen it by this
+time."</p>
+
+<p>"We have had a long, desolate ride since we parted with him," I
+assented; "yet the snow lies in such drifts at times that we can hardly
+be surprised to find ourselves still driving onwards."</p>
+
+<p>"See, sahibs!" exclaimed Hassan, as he pointed to where the snow-clad
+plain was at last broken by a distant forest of stunted pines. "There is
+surely the landmark of which the mujik spoke, and the peasant woman's
+dwelling cannot be far off."</p>
+
+<p>After wandering through the outlying provinces of China, we determined
+to visit the vast plains beyond, being anxious to see a Russian mine. To
+all our requests for such permission we met with refusals, until
+Denviers pressed a number of roubles into the hand of an official, who
+eventually helped us to effect our purpose, after evincing some
+reluctance. Staying a few days after this at a peasant's hut, we had
+been fortunate enough to win his goodwill, and it was in consequence of
+what he told us that we promised to undertake our present expedition.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/image562.jpg" width="500" height="269" alt="&quot;A DESOLATE RIDE.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;A DESOLATE RIDE.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>No sooner did the keen eyes of Hassan discover the forest far ahead than
+we dashed onwards quicker than ever, as our exhaled breath froze in icy
+particles and the biting wind struck right through the heavy sheepskin
+wraps which we had purchased on entering Russia. Away across the snow
+our foam-flecked horses sped, until we saw the blue smoke curling upward
+in the frosty air from a low log hut, situated so that the pine forest
+sheltered it somewhat from the icy winds.</p>
+
+<p>"Someone evidently lives here," said Denviers, as he beat with the
+handle of his whip against the low door. We heard a footstep cross the
+floor, then the noise of a bar being removed as a woman opened the door
+cautiously and peered into our faces. Bent as she was with age, with
+hair that hung in white masses about her shoulders, there was an
+unsubdued look which rested upon us from her dark eyes that contrasted
+forcibly with the dull, patient glance of the average Russian peasant.</p>
+
+<p>"Who is it crossing the plains? Are you servants of the Czar?" she
+asked, in a tone of hesitation at our unexpected appearance, and
+glancing strangely at Hassan, who had secured our steeds and joined us.</p>
+
+<p>"We are travellers crossing the Siberian<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_562" id="Page_562">[Pg 562]</a></span> wastes with our guide, and
+come to you for shelter," I answered, although we had a deeper purpose
+in visiting her.</p>
+
+<p>"It is yours," the woman replied, and having shaken our sheepskin wraps,
+we entered the hut and accepted the invitation to gather about the
+pine-wood fire which burnt in one corner of the rude dwelling.</p>
+
+<p>"You are not a Russian peasant?" remarked Denviers, in a tone of
+inquiry, for the woman spoke English with some fluency.</p>
+
+<p>"I am not, for my people are the Lost Ones, of whom you may have heard,"
+she answered, with a dreary smile.</p>
+
+<p>"We do not understand you," Denviers responded, as we waited for her
+explanation.</p>
+
+<p>"If you were men of this country my words would be lucid enough. Among
+all those who were overcome in the many Polish struggles for liberty,
+none have ever returned who once trod the road by which the exiles
+passed to join those whom we call Our Lost."</p>
+
+<p>"You have a motive for living here?" I remarked quietly, watching
+attentively to see what effect my words would have upon her.</p>
+
+<p>"I am friendless and alone, choosing rather to dwell here within sight
+of the way to Tomsk, than in the great city from which I came. The Czar
+is merciful, and permits this."</p>
+
+<p>"Then the mujik who directed us here was mistaken," I persisted. "He
+related strange stories to us of fugitives, whom the peasants
+whisper&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Hush!" she cried, looking nervously round. "What was the mujik's name?"
+For reply I placed in her hand a scrap of paper, upon which the man had
+scrawled a message. She glanced keenly at us after reading the missive,
+then answered:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"He may be mistaken in you, for you are Englishmen, and do not
+understand these things. A piece of black bread&mdash;what is it that it
+should be denied to an enemy, even of the Czar, who has escaped from the
+mines and wanders for refuge over these frozen wastes?"</p>
+
+<p>"You may trust us fully in this matter," said Denviers. "We have given
+our word to the mujik to render all the help we can."</p>
+
+<p>"It is a terrible day to traverse the plain," the woman replied, as she
+rose and threw open the rough door to the icy blast, which was only
+imperfectly kept out before. We followed to where she stood, then
+watched as she raised her hand and pointed at a distant object.</p>
+
+<p>"See!" the woman cried, bitterly; "yonder pine cross marks the spot
+where a brave man fell, he who was the lover of the daughter of
+Lovetski, one of our Lost Ones. By it, before the day is ended, will
+pass the long train of exiles guarded by the soldiery and headed by the
+one who hates to see that monument of his own misdeeds, but fears to
+remove it, for, persecuting the living, he dreads the dead." She closed
+and barred the door again; then, after some hesitation, spoke of the one
+to help whom we had gone so far.</p>
+
+<p>"It was the night of a masquerade at the Winter Palace, long to be
+remembered by many, for on the following day another rising of the Poles
+had been planned to take place. A number of the leading citizens of St.
+Petersburg were involved in it, but so well apparently was their secret
+kept, that they ventured to accept the invitations issued to them. Amid
+the mad revel the plotters moved, making occasionally a furtive sign of
+recognition to each other, or venturing at times to whisper as they
+passed the single word which told of all their hopes and
+fears&mdash;'To-morrow!' Chief among them was Count Lovetski, who murmured
+the watch-word more hopefully than any of those concerned whenever his
+keen eyes searched out those sworn to take part in the revolt so near at
+hand.</p>
+
+<p>"For three hours the gay crowd moved through the salons, then Lovetski,
+as he leant against a carved pillar, saw one of the revellers who was
+clad in strange attire approach several of the masqueraders and
+smilingly whisper something in their ears. At last the Count saw the
+stranger move close to himself, and a moment after he heard a mocking
+laugh from behind the black mask, as the unknown one stooped and uttered
+the preconcerted word. Lovetski looked doubtfully at the man's sombre
+garb, for the glance from his eyes was by no means reassuring.</p>
+
+<p>"'To-morrow!' repeated the masker. 'Count Lovetski, you do not respond.
+Have you forgotten?'</p>
+
+<p>"'Lower your voice, or we shall be heard by others,' said the Count,
+with a warning gesture. 'Who are you?'</p>
+
+<p>"'One of the three hundred citizens who are sworn to revolt to-morrow.
+The appointed day is fast drawing near, for in ten minutes the
+great clock will chime the midnight hour, and then, Count
+Lovetski&mdash;<i>Siberia!</i>'</p>
+
+<p>"His listener stared in blank amazement, then, regaining his composure,
+he replied:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"'So the plot is discovered? I am no coward. When is it settled for me
+to set out?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_563" id="Page_563">[Pg 563]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"'At the last stroke of the hour a drosky will await you at the main
+entrance. The palace is guarded by the soldiery. The others do not start
+immediately; you are the leader, and will be ready, doubtless.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Quite,' answered Lovetski, for he knew resistance would be useless. He
+quietly passed his sword to the masker, who took it, smiled again, and
+disappeared in the crowd. One by one the followers of the Count were
+singled out by the strange messenger of the Czar, and when the
+masquerade was over three hundred exiles followed the track of the
+sledge in which their leader had been hurried away a couple of hours
+before them on the long, dreary journey to Tomsk.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 388px;">
+<img src="images/image564.jpg" width="388" height="548" alt="&quot;SIBERIA!&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;SIBERIA!&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Lovetski was refused the privilege of communicating his whereabouts to
+his wife, who shortly after this event died, leaving their daughter to
+the care of strangers. Before long a rumour reached the capital that the
+Count had been shot while attempting to escape in disguise, and this was
+eventually found to be true.</p>
+
+<p>"Scarcely had Marie Lovetski reached womanhood when she joined a
+political movement, fired with a mad resolve to avenge her father's
+death, and within a year her name appeared among those on the list of
+suspects, whose every action was closely observed. A Russian officer of
+high rank, Paul Somaloff, who had more than once made her an offer of
+marriage, begged her to remember the fate which overtook Count Lovetski,
+but the bare mention of it only made the woman more inexorable. The end
+which everyone foretold soon came, for, seated one day in the midst of
+treasonable correspondence, Marie Lovetski was surprised by three
+gendarmes, who burst into her apartment. She tore the letter into
+fragments before they could stop her, then scattered the pieces over the
+floor. One of the gendarmes, motioning to his companions to pick them
+up, moved towards her and attempted her arrest. For one moment the woman
+stood at bay, then thrust the cold barrel of a pistol into the
+gendarme's ear.</p>
+
+<p>"'Raise but a hand or move an inch nearer and I will shoot you!' she
+cried, warningly. Her would-be captor shrunk back, and before he had
+recovered from his surprise Marie Lovetski darted past him towards the
+door. She seized the handle to wrench it open, then saw that all was
+lost. The door was locked and the gendarme had removed the key. There
+was a fierce struggle, in which one of the officers was dangerously
+wounded, but eventually they secured her, and within two months Marie
+Lovetski set out to traverse the same dreary road over which the Count
+had gone long before when she was a mere child.</p>
+
+<p>"Ivan Rachieff, the masquerader who had whispered into Count Lovetski's
+ear the fate to which he was consigned, was at that time a young attach&eacute;
+at the Court of the Czar. The zeal which he displayed in hunting down
+the autocrat's enemies rapidly brought promotion, so that when Marie
+Lovetski was exiled he had risen to be a general of the Russ army, and
+specially chosen for the duty of heading the Cossacks who conducted the
+exiles over the Siberian wastes, while among his subordinates was Paul
+Somaloff, who held a position scarcely inferior to his own.</p>
+
+<p>"Convicted of a double offence, Marie Lovetski was condemned to walk the
+whole of that wearisome distance among criminals bound for the mines,
+while the political exiles were somewhat less harshly treated. General
+Rachieff had been warned that a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_564" id="Page_564">[Pg 564]</a></span> band of discontents had threatened to
+attempt the rescue of the prisoners, and special powers of life and
+death were granted to him. By long forced marches he hurried the exiles
+on, scarcely giving them a few hours' rest each night when they arrived
+at their halting-places on the route.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/image565.jpg" width="500" height="492" alt="&quot;SHE THRUST THE COLD BARREL OF A PISTOL INTO THE
+GENDARME&#39;S EAR.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;SHE THRUST THE COLD BARREL OF A PISTOL INTO THE
+GENDARME&#39;S EAR.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"It was with a deep feeling of sorrow at his inability to lessen her
+sufferings that Paul Somaloff glanced many times on the way at Marie
+Lovetski. In spite of the strange position in which he found himself,
+his love for the woman was by no means lessened, but increased each day
+as he saw to his dismay how plainly her strength was failing as he
+looked upon the woman's haggard countenance, who was wearily dragging
+her limbs forward over the frozen wastes. One day Marie Lovetski's
+condition became so serious that Somaloff begged General Rachieff to
+order the fetters which bound her wrists to be removed, receiving in
+reply a refusal as contemptuous as it was decisive. All that day the
+exile's secret lover walked moodily on, racking his brains for some
+method by which to save the woman from dying before even the terrible
+journey was ended.</p>
+
+<p>"Not far from the hut in which you are now resting, the weary exiles
+were halted that night, and soon sank down in the log building into an
+exhausted sleep. After a severe conflict between his love and his
+allegiance to the Czar, Paul Somaloff rose, and, stealing carefully
+among the unconscious ones, he bent at last over the form of Marie
+Lovetski, stretched upon a straw pallet.</p>
+
+<p>"'Marie,' he whispered softly, as he cautiously awakened her. ''Tis I,
+Paul Somaloff&mdash;I come to save you.'</p>
+
+<p>"He remained by the woman's side till he had deftly removed the manacles
+from her wrists, then stole to the entrance as she silently followed
+him. Once he was outside the log building, Somaloff made for where his
+general's horse was stabled, and quickly untethering it led it forth.
+For one brief moment he clasped the exile to his breast, then lifted her
+into the saddle and placed the reins in her hand with a few hurried
+words as to the best course to pursue to avoid pursuit.</p>
+
+<p>"Suddenly Paul Somaloff felt a heavy hand grip him by the shoulder, and
+turning round he found himself face to face with Ivan Rachieff, his
+general! At the same time the woman was dragged from the horse and held
+by three of the Cossacks.</p>
+
+<p>"'Your traitorous plan was well thought out,' said Rachieff, as he
+smiled in derision at its failure. 'Paul Somaloff, you have broken your
+oath to the Czar, and I swear you shall die for this.'</p>
+
+<p>"'You may do your worst,' replied the young officer. 'You would not
+listen to my repeated appeals for a slight act of clemency for Marie
+Lovetski, and so have turned a loyal subject of the Czar into a
+traitor.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Insolent!' cried General Rachieff. 'At sunrise you shall be knouted to
+death.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Coward that you are,' retorted Somaloff, 'that is a punishment you
+dare not inflict upon one who wears a decoration given to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_565" id="Page_565">[Pg 565]</a></span> him by the
+august Czar. I am a soldier, General, and, at the hands of my comrades,
+will die a soldier's death.'</p>
+
+<p>"'So be it,' answered Rachieff, calmly; 'you shall be shot at sunrise,'
+and he motioned to the soldiers who had gathered about him to take
+Somaloff into their charge, then turned on his heel and strode away,
+humming an idle air.</p>
+
+<p>"The grey morning had scarcely dawned when brave young Somaloff was
+blindfolded and led forth to be shot in sight of the exiles, while the
+woman whom he had failed to save looked helplessly on.</p>
+
+<p>"A few minutes afterwards, Paul Somaloff knelt on the snow-covered
+plain, the report of a dozen rifles rang out on the morning air, and the
+exiles saw his arms raised as he clutched convulsively at his breast,
+then he fell forward, dead!</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 426px;">
+<img src="images/image566.jpg" width="426" height="387" alt="&quot;HE FELL FORWARD, DEAD.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;HE FELL FORWARD, DEAD.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"The wild, despairing cries of the exiles were quelled with threats of
+the knout, and then the prisoners were hurried on, as they had been for
+so many days and weeks past. Ten days later a large number of Polish
+insurrectionists, ill-armed, and accompanied by a throng of even worse
+accoutred peasants carrying a red banner, flung themselves upon the line
+of march, and made a futile effort to break through the soldiers who
+guarded the exiles. The trained troopers of the Czar thrust them back
+and, as they broke and fled into the forest, chased and cut them down
+like sheep, till the snow turned to a crimson hue with their hearts'
+blood.</p>
+
+<p>"The exiles made desperate efforts to avail themselves of the
+opportunity to escape which the confusion presented. Those who were
+unbound fought with branches, which they tore from the stunted trees,
+while the others madly thrust the shackles upon their wrists into the
+faces of the brutal soldiery, who knouted or cut down men and women
+indiscriminately. Long will that massacre be remembered, and the
+dreadful sufferings which the survivors endured at the command of Ivan
+Rachieff. When at last Tomsk was reached, only a handful of decrepit
+exiles passed into the city out of all those who started on the long
+journey."</p>
+
+<p>"And Marie Lovetski?" I interrupted, "did she live to complete the
+distance, or what was her fate?"</p>
+
+<p>"It was reported that she was cut down during the massacre," the woman
+replied, slowly; "for nothing has been heard of her since by General
+Rachieff, although her body could not be found among the slain."</p>
+
+<p>I glanced at the woman thoughtfully as she concluded her story, and
+Denviers, who had listened in silence throughout, asked:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Where is Marie Lovetski? You are aware that she is alive&mdash;nay, more,
+you know her place of concealment."</p>
+
+<p>Surprised at the directness of the question, the woman involuntarily
+rose, and then, seeing that we suspected the fugitive was hidden in the
+log hut, she answered:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Marie Lovetski is not here, yet if the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_566" id="Page_566">[Pg 566]</a></span> mujik has rightly judged your
+courage, within a week he will see your sledge return with one more
+occupant than when it started. Once she is carried there her escape is
+assured, for&mdash;&mdash;" She stopped suddenly and pointed to the door. We
+listened attentively as the sound of footsteps drew near, then a heavy
+blow smote the barred entrance and a voice exclaimed:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Open, in the Czar's name!" The woman's face turned ashy pale as she
+muttered faintly:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"That is the voice of Ivan Rachieff, who is again in command of the
+exiles," and she drew away the heavy bar to admit him. We rose to our
+feet in an instant as the door was flung open and General Rachieff
+entered and stood before us.</p>
+
+
+<h4>II.</h4>
+
+<p>For a moment the Russian officer stared at us without speaking, then
+throwing back his heavy sealskin cloak and revealing the military garb
+which he wore beneath, he asked the woman sternly:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"What does the presence of these men in your hut mean?"</p>
+
+<p>"We are travellers, who have asked for shelter. Our guide is an Arab; we
+are Englishmen," responded Denviers, quietly but decisively.</p>
+
+<p>"Spies, I do not doubt," said Rachieff, as he bit his heavy moustache.</p>
+
+<p>"My word is accustomed to be believed," replied my companion, sharply.
+"If you doubt what I have said, read that," and he flung a package
+containing our passports upon the table as he spoke.</p>
+
+<p>The officer took out our passports, which we had been careful to obtain.
+He glanced through them, then tossed the papers on to the table again as
+he remarked, in a morose tone:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"You would not be the first Englishmen who have made their way into the
+Czar's territory only to discredit it."</p>
+
+<p>"You have chosen a curious method of displaying your pleasantry,"
+retorted Denviers, glancing sternly at the heavy-bearded Russian who had
+so wantonly insulted us. Rachieff drew a chair to the table, and,
+sitting down, leant his head upon his hands, narrowly scrutinizing our
+features.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image567.jpg" width="450" height="448" alt="&quot;NARROWLY SCRUTINIZING OUR FEATURES.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;NARROWLY SCRUTINIZING OUR FEATURES.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"I saw some horses and a sledge in the shed without," he continued; "are
+they yours?"</p>
+
+<p>"They are," answered my companion, laconically.</p>
+
+<p>"Where was your last stopping-place before you reached here?" Rachieff
+asked, as if he were examining some prisoners.</p>
+
+<p>"We are neither Russian subjects nor refugees," Denviers replied. "You
+may save your inquiries for others, since we have no intention of
+satisfying your ill-timed curiosity." My companion turned his back to
+Rachieff, and raising a blazing piece of pine-wood which had fallen,
+tossed it again among the glowing embers, taking no more notice of the
+discomfited officer. Rachieff was nonplussed; he frowned heavily, then
+rising, moved to the door. He turned as he held it partly open,
+saying:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"If you were a Russian gentleman instead of an English spy, I would call
+you out for your insolence to an officer in the Czar's service."</p>
+
+<p>I saw the blood mount to Denviers's forehead as he snatched the driving
+whip which Hassan held and, striding forward, struck the Russian a blow
+across his face with it.</p>
+
+<p>"If I were an exile, no doubt you would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_567" id="Page_567">[Pg 567]</a></span> knout me for that," he said,
+quietly. "You can do nothing as it is, since our papers are in order,
+except fight me."</p>
+
+<p>"I am in command of the exiles," answered Rachieff. "They are now
+passing yonder; when the halting-place is reached to-night I will leave
+my subordinate in charge of them and return here with an officer as my
+second. If you are not a coward you will be here awaiting me at
+mid-day."</p>
+
+<p>"I shall be here," replied Denviers. "Choose your own weapons; you have
+brought this meeting about entirely unprovoked, and to-morrow you or I
+will fall."</p>
+
+<p>"Adieu till then!" cried Rachieff, with a bitter smile of hatred, then
+he turned his face away, upon which was a long livid mark where the whip
+had fallen, and we saw him stride towards the exiles passing over the
+plain before us.</p>
+
+<p>"Ivan Rachieff is one of the most skilful duellists with sword or pistol
+in the Czar's army," said the woman, who had been an attentive observer
+of all that passed between the two men. "He will kill you with as little
+remorse as he ordered Paul Somaloff to be shot by the soldiers."</p>
+
+<p>"Paul Somaloff!" exclaimed Denviers. "Ah! I had forgotten his fate for a
+moment; but to-morrow, when Rachieff and I stand face to face, I will
+surely remember it."</p>
+
+<p>"Allah and Mahomet help the sahib," cried Hassan. "If the bearded Russ
+should chance to win, he shall fight the Arab afterwards."</p>
+
+<p>"Never mind Rachieff, Hassan," said Denviers; "we must at once make our
+plans for the purpose of helping Marie Lovetski to escape from Siberia.
+Whatever happens to me, she must be saved at all hazards."</p>
+
+<p>"Where is the woman concealed?" I asked the one who was our hostess.</p>
+
+<p>She rose and questioned us:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Will you swear by the memorial which I have raised over Paul Somaloff's
+resting-place never to speak of what you may see in the strange
+hiding-place to which I may conduct you?"</p>
+
+<p>"We will," I answered briefly, as Denviers joined in assenting.</p>
+
+<p>We lost little time after Rachieff's departure, but drew together and
+discussed the probabilities of various plans succeeding, and at last
+decided on that which seemed to promise success. The dusk rapidly closed
+in upon us as we sat in thoughtful conversation, after which the woman
+rose, and, having scanned the plain near the hut as well as she could in
+the gloom, motioned to us to follow her.</p>
+
+<p>Hassan remained in the hut while we set out, and making our way through
+a part of the pines and firs close to the dwelling in which we had
+sought shelter, we found ourselves groping blindly along, following each
+other like phantoms in the darkness which enveloped us. So far there was
+little need for the woman to have sworn us to secrecy, for neither going
+nor returning did we get a glimpse of anything likely to indicate the
+spot to us again at any future time. At last we felt what appeared to be
+a rough flight of stone steps beneath our feet, then our guide lit a
+pine-wood torch which she carried.</p>
+
+<p>Holding up the flickering light before us, the woman led us into what we
+conjectured to be one of the catacombs of an ancient city. On both sides
+of us as we moved along the red flare of the pine-wood revealed many
+bodies of the dead, each stretched in a niche cut for it in the red
+rock, while at intervals between these we saw the resting-places of
+others distinguished by various strange emblems. One of these niches was
+silently guarded by two carved figures of horsemen with their white
+steeds caparisoned, and each of the riders held in his uplifted hand a
+sword such as the Damascenes use.</p>
+
+<p>"A strange resting-place that," I remarked to Denviers, as it stood out
+weird and ghastly in the light of the torch. "No Russian soldiery ever
+wear such accoutrements as are depicted there, I am certain."</p>
+
+<p>"They wear the garb of boyars of the time of Ivan the Terrible," our
+guide said, as she pointed to the mounted horsemen. "Where the pine
+forest about us is now there stood more than four hundred years ago one
+of the many cities built by that extraordinary monarch, but it has long
+been blotted out, and the Russ have forgotten its very existence. None
+now know of its catacombs save those of us who form a secret band, and
+whose object is to help the exiles who may escape and seek shelter and a
+safe hiding-place. Even now it would be impossible for you to find the
+one you seek, and if you wish to go farther it must be done blindfolded,
+or I will not lead you."</p>
+
+<p>We stood by the strangely carved horsemen, and having consented to the
+woman's request, allowed her to fasten our sashes securely over our
+eyes; then, led by her, we slowly advanced through what appeared to be a
+labyrinth of ways until we were stopped by someone who spoke to the
+woman in a calm, grave tone. There was a whispered conversation between
+the two, directly following which our eyes were uncovered, and we<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_568" id="Page_568">[Pg 568]</a></span> found
+ourselves facing a strangely-robed hermit. His long white beard fell
+almost to his waist, contrasting forcibly with the black garment which
+covered him, while his high forehead and the steadfast look directed
+towards us seemed to be in keeping with the hermit's strange
+surroundings. A heap of blazing pine-wood lit up his retreat and served
+to lessen the intense coldness of the air.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image569.jpg" width="450" height="443" alt="&quot;WE FOUND OURSELVES FACING A STRANGELY-ROBED HERMIT.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;WE FOUND OURSELVES FACING A STRANGELY-ROBED HERMIT.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"You are Englishmen, and have promised to help Marie Lovetski to escape
+from here to our next station of refuge," he said. "Since the day when
+she fled she has been hidden in various of our secret places. Six months
+ago she was brought here, yet so dangerous is the risk that we have
+waited for the mujik's messengers, telling us that all is safe for her
+to be conveyed there. He says in his message that you can be trusted,
+and doubtless your passports will help you to accomplish the task more
+easily than Russ or Pole could do. We trust, then, in your honour, that
+once Marie Lovetski is in your keeping, you will die in her defence
+rather than surrender her to the horrors of a mine."</p>
+
+<p>We explained to the hermit the difficulty which the approaching duel
+between Denviers and Rachieff might cause, and discussed with him the
+possibility of overcoming it. Denviers was emphatic in his determination
+to meet the Russian on the morrow, and so it was arranged that at a
+certain hour Marie Lovetski should leave the catacombs and secretly
+watch the result of the duel. If Denviers escaped uninjured we were to
+mount our sledge and make for the spot where she would be stationed, and
+hiding her beneath the wraps, to start on our long journey back to the
+mujik who had intrusted us with the task of saving her.</p>
+
+<p>"You will, of course, allow us to see this exile?" Denviers remarked, as
+soon as everything was arranged. "It was for that purpose that we were
+brought here to-night."</p>
+
+<p>"Then your visit has been made in vain," was the unexpected reply. "It
+will be time enough for you to do so if your duel with Rachieff is
+successful."</p>
+
+<p>We endeavoured to overcome the hermit's objection, but, although the
+woman who had guided us there spoke strenuously on our behalf, the
+strange guardian of Marie Lovetski was not to be persuaded from
+following his own cautious plan. Finding our protests useless, we
+consented to be blindfolded once more, and were led back through the
+catacombs into the forest, and before long we had entered the log hut
+again. There we threw ourselves on our sheepskin wraps in front of the
+pine-wood fire, and laid down upon them to sleep; then, when daylight
+came, the woman awoke us and we passed the morning vaguely wondering
+what the result of the duel would be.</p>
+
+<p>Denviers urged upon our guide, Hassan,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_569" id="Page_569">[Pg 569]</a></span> and myself the necessity of
+attempting to save the woman so long shut up in the dismal catacombs,
+and at last I gave a reluctant consent to do so if he fell, instead of
+making an attempt to avenge him. The Arab stolidly refused to do this,
+and justified his position by numerous quotations from the Koran, while
+declaring that Mahomet would certainly come to my companion's
+assistance, which, in spite of the gravity of his position, provoked a
+smiling retort from Denviers. Little did we know what the termination of
+the fight would be, or the strange part in it which Marie Lovetski was
+to have.</p>
+
+
+<h4>III.</h4>
+
+<p>"Hark, sahibs!" exclaimed Hassan. "Although noon has not yet come, the
+Russian is approaching to keep his promise to fight."</p>
+
+<p>We threw open the door of the hut and distinguished the ringing sound of
+the bells of a distant sledge. A few minutes after this the cracking of
+a whip and the neighing of horses were heard, and finally we saw the
+sledge appear before us. There were three occupants, and as it drew near
+we distinguished among them General Rachieff as the one who was urging
+on the horses. The conveyance dashed up to the hut; then one of the
+officers sprang out and restrained the animals, while a second, who
+carried a couple of swords, followed close behind Rachieff, with whom
+Denviers was soon to try conclusions.</p>
+
+<p>"The weapons are here," said General Rachieff, frigidly, as Denviers
+approached and bowed slightly. "There is no time to lose: we fight with
+swords as you see. Choose!" and he motioned to his second, who held them
+out. Following out the plan which we had determined to adopt, Hassan
+quickly placed our horses in our own sledge and drew them a little
+ahead, so that the conveyance should be ready for us to enter when the
+duel was ended, if my companion did not fall in the encounter.</p>
+
+<p>"We fight there," said Denviers calmly, as he motioned to the part of
+the plain to the right of where Hassan had already stationed our sledge.</p>
+
+<p>"As you will," responded Rachieff indifferently, and, accompanied by his
+second, he moved to the spot Denviers pointed out. There the usual
+formalities were settled by the other officer and myself, whereupon the
+two duellists made ready and waited for the signal to begin, which fell
+to my lot to give.</p>
+
+<p>I fluttered a handkerchief in the biting air for a moment, dropped it,
+and the swords were rapidly crossed. The reputation which Rachieff had
+won as a duellist was certainly well deserved, since his feints and
+thrusts were admirable, while Denviers, whose coolness in critical
+circumstances never deserted him, acted mainly on the defensive,
+parrying his enemy's lunges with remarkable skill.</p>
+
+<p>More than once the duellists stopped as if by mutual consent, to regain
+breath, then quickly facing each other again, fought more determinedly
+than ever. Rachieff saw that for once he had apparently met his match
+with the sword, and grew by degrees more cautious than he had been when
+the fight began; yet repeatedly he failed to completely ward off the
+quick lunges from my companion's weapon, and I saw the crimson stains of
+blood which marked where the sword point had touched him. Then he rained
+in his blows with lightning speed, pressing hard upon Denviers several
+times, and glaring furiously at him, while his distorted features showed
+plainly enough the mark of the blow he had received from the whip the
+day previous.</p>
+
+<p>"Rachieff wins!" cried the Russian's second, and I saw, to my dismay,
+Denviers's weapon suddenly twisted from his hand and flung into the air,
+while an exultant exclamation burst from Rachieff's lips as he rushed
+upon his defenceless opponent! Before he could make use of the advantage
+which he had unexpectedly gained, Marie Lovetski uttered a wild,
+mournful cry, and started forward from the pine forest, standing pale
+with momentary fear before him!</p>
+
+<p>The superstitious Russian stared incredulously, his sword-arm dropped to
+his side, while he gasped out:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Lovetski's daughter, and yet she is surely dead!"</p>
+
+<p>Taking full advantage of the Russian's dismay, Denviers instantly flung
+himself upon his foe, dashing him backwards to the ground. Kneeling upon
+his enemy's chest and gripping him by the throat, as he held the sword
+he had seized before the startled Russian, my companion hissed in his
+ear:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Yield, or you are a dead man!"</p>
+
+<p>The Russian's face turned to a purple hue as he almost choked for
+breath, then he muttered brokenly the exiled woman's name.</p>
+
+<p>"She is living!" cried Denviers, as he lowered the point of the sword
+till it touched the Russian's breast. "Swear that you will not attempt
+to hinder her flight, and I will release your throat."</p>
+
+<p>General Rachieff raised his hand in sign of assent, for his voice had
+failed him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_570" id="Page_570">[Pg 570]</a></span> Denviers rose, whereupon the Russian staggered to his feet,
+then, mad at his defeat, moved over to where his sledge was.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/image571.jpg" width="500" height="319" alt="&quot;HE RUSHED UPON HIS DEFENCELESS OPPONENT.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;HE RUSHED UPON HIS DEFENCELESS OPPONENT.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Get the woman into our sledge," cried Denviers to me. I started forward
+to where Hassan was; we snatched up the exile and immediately drove off.</p>
+
+<p>"After them, men!" cried Rachieff, caring nothing for his promise. "We
+will take Marie Lovetski, or shoot her down!"</p>
+
+<p>"Never trust a Russ, sahibs!" exclaimed Hassan, as he lashed our horses
+on, while our enemies followed furiously behind. "The only way to secure
+his silence would have been a sword thrust through the false one's
+heart."</p>
+
+<p>Away our sledge was whirled across the plain, faster and faster still,
+yet Rachieff, whose horses were more numerous than our own, drew
+gradually nearer. Marie Lovetski, who had forgotten her alarm now that
+Denviers was safe, turned her pale-set countenance towards our pursuers,
+and, as she did so, the report of a pistol rang out, while a bullet
+whizzed past her head! I saw Rachieff holding the smoking weapon in his
+hand as Denviers cried to me:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"If he fires again, I will shoot him like the dog that he is!"</p>
+
+<p>"No," cried Marie Lovetski, snatching a pistol from my sash before I
+could prevent her. "Rachieff slew Somaloff, my lover, and I will avenge
+him." She pointed the weapon full at the Russian, and I barely had time
+to brush her arm aside before the frenzied exile fired. Fortunately, the
+shot was deflected, and Rachieff was saved from the fate that he
+certainly deserved.</p>
+
+<p>"Shoot their horses!" exclaimed Denviers, and as our own dashed along he
+leant over towards the pursuing sledge and fired at the foremost of
+them. The animal reared for a moment, then fell dead, throwing the rest
+into confusion. Out the Russians sprang, and cut the traces through, and
+having in this way speedily managed to disencumber their steeds of the
+dead one, they immediately began the pursuit again. We waited for them
+to get near again, then fired in quick succession and brought down their
+other horses, in spite of the bullets which the Russians rained upon us,
+and which, fortunately, struck none who were in the sledge. Baffled in
+their pursuit, we saw our enemies standing knee-deep in the snow
+watching us as we dashed along.</p>
+
+<p>"Well," remarked Denviers, as we slackened our speed at last, "we have
+had a strange running fight, such as I least of all expected."</p>
+
+<p>"The sahibs have saved the woman," said our guide. "Their slave the Arab
+believes that even the Great Prophet would approve of what they have
+done. The promise to convey Marie Lovetski to the mujik's hut will now
+surely be kept"; and so it came about, for the daughter of Lovetski the
+Lost lived to find freedom hers on another soil and under another flag.</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_571" id="Page_571">[Pg 571]</a></span></p>
+<h2><i>Illustrated Interviews.</i></h2>
+
+
+<h3>No. XXIII.&mdash;MR. HARRY FURNISS.</h3>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image572-1.jpg" width="450" height="411" alt="&quot;INTERVIEWED!&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;INTERVIEWED!&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>It is the proud boast of every married man, and more particularly so
+when his quiver is fairly full, that he presides over the happiest home
+in the land. But there is a corner of Regent's Park where stands a house
+whose four walls contain an amount of fun and unadulterated merriment,
+happiness, and downright pleasure that would want a lot of beating. The
+fact is that Mr. Harry Furniss is not only a merry man with his pencil.
+Humour with him may mean a very profitable thing&mdash;it unquestionably
+does; fun and frolic as depicted on paper by "Lika Joko" brings in, as
+Digby Grant would put it, many "a little cheque." But I venture to think
+that the clever caricaturist would not have half as many merry ideas
+running from the mind to the pencil if he sold all his humour outside
+and forgot to scatter a goodly proportion of it amongst his quartette of
+children.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image572-2.jpg" width="450" height="414" alt="&quot;MY LITTLE MODEL.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;MY LITTLE MODEL.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_572" id="Page_572">[Pg 572]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/image573.jpg" width="500" height="590" alt="LITTLE GUY" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;LITTLE GUY&mdash;OR, A FIDGETY MODEL.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>I had not been in the house five minutes before they made their presence
+known. I had not been there a quarter of an hour before the discovery
+was made that they were small but impressive editions of their father.
+Have you heard of Harry Furniss's little model&mdash;"My Little Model"? She
+is Dorothy, who sits for all the little girls in her father's pictures.
+A clever, bright young woman of thirteen, with glorious auburn tresses.
+For two or three years past she has not forgotten to write her father a
+story, illustrated it herself, and duly presented it on his birthday.
+"Buzzy," for that is her pet name, is retained as a model at a modest
+honorarium per sitting. Should she be indisposed, she must find a
+substitute! Then there is Frank, the eldest, home for his holidays just
+now from Cheltenham; young Lawrence, who also draws capitally; and
+little Guy, the youngest, who creeps into the pictures occasionally. Guy
+is a very fidgety model. "I have drawn him in twenty different moves,
+when trying to bribe him with a penny to sit!" said Mr. Furniss. And it
+seemed to me&mdash;and one had an excellent opportunity of judging during a
+too-quickly-passed day spent at Regent's Park&mdash;that not a small amount
+of Mr. Furniss's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_573" id="Page_573">[Pg 573]</a></span> humour was caught from the children. He has brought
+them up to live a laughing life, he ignores the standing-in-the-corner
+theory, and believes that a penny discreetly bestowed on a youngster
+during a troubled moment will teach him a better lesson than a
+shilling's-worth of stick. It is also evident that the brightness and
+jollity of the children are inherited, not only from father, but mother
+as well; and it was easy to discern, from the remarks that fell from the
+subject of my interview, that the touches of artistic taste to be seen
+about the place were due to the "best of wives and mothers"&mdash;immaculate
+housewife and capital hostess&mdash;Mrs. Furniss. And, as Mr. Furniss himself
+acknowledges, half the battle of life is overcome for a hard-worked
+professional man by the possession of a sympathetic and careful wife.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image574.jpg" width="450" height="746" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>Just run through this budget of letters from father to children. When I
+arrived at Regent's Park&mdash;ten minutes before my time, by-the-bye&mdash;Mr.
+Furniss was out riding, a very favourite exercise with him. "Buzzy" and
+Frank and Lawrence and Guy brought out their treasured missives. When
+"Lika Joko" gets a pen or pencil in his hand he can't help caricaturing.
+These juvenile missives were decorated with sketches in every corner.
+Here is a particularly merry one. Frank writes from Cheltenham for some
+fret-work patterns. Patterns are sent by return of post&mdash;the whole
+family is sent in fret-work. Mr. Furniss goes away to Hastings,
+suffering from overwork. He has to diet himself. Then comes a letter
+illustrated at the top with a certain gentleman greatly reduced in face
+and figure through following Dr. Robson Roose's admirable advice. There
+are scores of them&mdash;all neatly and carefully kept with their envelopes
+in scrap-books.</p>
+
+<p>Some few days afterwards I discovered that Mr. Furniss delights in
+"illustrating" his letters to others besides his children. My photo was
+needed by Mr. Furniss for the purpose of making a sketch. I sent him a
+recent one. He wanted a "profile" too. The "profile" was taken when I
+was sadly in need of the application of the scissors of the tonsorial
+artist. I posted the "profile" with a request that perhaps Mr. Furniss
+would kindly apply his artistic shears and cut off a little of the
+surplus hair. By return comes an illustrated missive. I am sitting in a
+barber's chair, cloth round neck; the artist is behind me with the
+customary weapon, and laying<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_574" id="Page_574">[Pg 574]</a></span> low the locks. The whole thing probably
+only took a minute or two to do, but it is a capital little bit of
+drawing. It is reproduced at the end of this article.</p>
+
+<p>This quarter of an hour spent with the youngsters over their paternal
+letters was not lost. It prepared me for the man himself, it gave me the
+true clue to his character, and when he rushed into the house&mdash;riding
+boots and whip included&mdash;it was just the one the children had
+unanimously realized for me. A jolly, hearty, "give us your hand" sort
+of individual, somewhat below the medium height, with a face as merry as
+one of his own pages in <i>Punch</i>. He is restless&mdash;he must be always at
+it. He thinks and talks rapidly: there is no hesitation about him. He
+gets a happy thought. Out it comes&mdash;unique and original in its
+unvarnished state. He is as good and thorough a specimen of an
+Englishman as one would meet&mdash;frank and straight-spoken, says what he
+thinks and thinks what he means. An Englishman, notwithstanding the fact
+that he was born in Ireland, his mother was a Scotchwoman, and he
+married a lady of Welsh descent! But, then, his father was a
+Yorkshireman! So much for the man&mdash;and much more. Of his talents we will
+speak later.</p>
+
+<p>We all sat down to lunch, and the children simply did for me what I
+could not have done for myself. Frank ran his father on funny stories.
+Then it all came out. Mr. Furniss is an excellent actor&mdash;had he not been
+a caricaturist he must have been a comedian. His powers of imitation are
+unlimited. He will give you an Irish jarvey one moment and Henry Irving
+the next, and the children led him on. But it all at once dawned upon
+Mr. Furniss that it was interfering with the proper play of knife and
+fork, so we dispensed with the mimicry and went on with the mutton.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image575.jpg" width="450" height="712" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>"Lika Joko" is suggested at once on entering the hall. Here are a
+quartette of quaint Japanese heads, which their owner calls his "Fore
+Fathers!" His Fellowship of the Zoo is typified by pictures of various
+animals. A fine etching of St. Mark's, at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_575" id="Page_575">[Pg 575]</a></span> Venice, is also noticeable,
+the only two portraits being a Rembrandt and Maroni's "Tailor."</p>
+
+<p>"I always hold that up as the best portrait ever painted," said Mr.
+Furniss, as he glances at Maroni's masterpiece.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image576.jpg" width="450" height="367" alt="THE DINING-ROOM." title="" />
+<span class="caption">THE DINING-ROOM.<br />
+
+<i>From a Photo. by Elliott &amp; Fry.</i></span>
+</div>
+
+<p>In the dining-room Landseer, Herkomer, Alma Tadema, and Burton Barber
+are represented&mdash;little Lawrence was the original study for the child in
+the latter artist's "Bethgelert." Fred Barnard's work is here, and some
+quaint old original designs on wood by Boyd Haughton are pointed out as
+curios. <i>Punch</i> is to the front, notably in Du Maurier, by himself,
+which cost its possessor thirty guineas; a portrait group of the staff
+up the river, some delicate water-colours by C. H. Bennett, and a fine
+bit of work by Mr. Furniss of the jubilee dinner of the threepenny comic
+at the Ship Hotel, Greenwich. Upstairs the children's portraits, and
+pictures likely to please the youngsters, reappear. The nursery is full
+of them, though perhaps the most interesting apartment in this part of
+the house is the principal bedroom. It is full of the original
+caricatures of M.P.'s and other notabilities, and the occupant of the
+bed has Bradlaugh and the Baron de Worms on either side of him, whilst
+from a corner the piercing eye of Mr. George Lewis is constantly on the
+watch.</p>
+
+<p>A striking portrait of Mr. F. C. Burnand recalls to Mr. Furniss the
+first time he sketched him.</p>
+
+<p>"I was making a chalk drawing of him," said the caricaturist. "He sat
+with his back to me for half-an-hour writing, and suddenly turned round
+and wanted to know if I had finished! Perceiving a piece of bread for
+rubbing-out purposes in my hand, he objected to my having lunch there!
+And finally, when I induced him to turn his head my way and I finished
+the sketch, he looked at it critically and cried out, 'Splendid
+likeness, remarkable features, fine head, striking forehead,
+characteristic eyebrow, splendid likeness; somebody I know, but I can't
+remember who!' Encouraging, wasn't it?</p>
+
+<p>"But I remembered it. Some years after I gave a dinner at the Garrick
+Club to the <i>Punch</i> staff and some friends. Burnand sat at the head of a
+long table. It was understood that there was to be no speaking. Suddenly
+I saw the editorial eyebrows wriggling. I knew what it meant&mdash;Burnand
+was going to make a speech. I hurriedly got about a dozen sheets of
+note-paper, and tore them in bits. I jumped up very nervous, produced
+'notes'; terrible anxiety on part of diners&mdash;suppressed groans. I spoke,
+got fearfully muddled, constantly losing notes, etc. 'Art amongst the
+Greeks,' I said&mdash;notes; 'yes, your sculptors of Athens were,
+unquestionably'&mdash;notes again. 'And what of it? <i>Punch</i> is a&mdash;<i>Punch</i> is
+a&mdash;well, you all know <i>what Punch</i> is!' Then it began to dawn upon them
+that this was a little lark. So I hurriedly threw notes under the table
+and suggested that on an occasion like the present it was our duty to
+first propose the health of the Queen! We did. Then the Prince of Wales,
+the Army and Navy, the Reserve Forces, the Bishops and Magistrates. All
+these were replied to, and Burnand didn't get a chance!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_576" id="Page_576">[Pg 576]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image577-1.jpg" width="450" height="364" alt="THE DRAWING-ROOM." title="" />
+<span class="caption">THE DRAWING-ROOM.<br />
+
+<i>From a Photo. by Elliott &amp; Fry.</i></span>
+</div>
+
+<p>There are many delightful water-colours in the drawing-room, bronzes and
+quaint Japanese ivories. The first meet of the "Two Pins Club" at
+Richmond, June 8th, 1890, gives excellent back views of Sir Charles
+Russell, F. C. Burnand, Frank Lockwood, Q.C., Linley Sambourne, Chas.
+Matthews, Q.C., and the caricaturist himself. The "Two Pins" is a riding
+club named after Dick Turpin and Johnny Gilpin. Works by Goodall and
+Rowlandson are here, a fine Albert D&uuml;rer, and a most ingenious bit of
+painting by a man who never had a chance to get to the front&mdash;he has
+used his brush with excellent effect on the back of an old band-box.
+Mary Anderson has written on the back of a photo, "Better late than
+never," for the picture was a long time coming; another excellent
+example of photographic work being a large head of Mr. Irving as
+"Becket," bearing his autograph. In a corner is a queer-looking wax
+model of Daniel O'Connell addressing the crowd, and amongst a hundred
+little odds and ends spring flowers are peeping out. Mr. Furniss finds
+little time now to use his paint-box. The example&mdash;an early one,
+by-the-bye&mdash;he has contributed to this apartment is by no means
+prophetic. It is a trifle in water-colours&mdash;a graveyard of a church with
+countless tombstones! Now, who would associate the caricaturist with
+tombstones?</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image577-2.jpg" width="450" height="351" alt="THE STUDIO." title="" />
+<span class="caption">THE STUDIO.<br />
+
+<i>From a Photo. by Elliott &amp; Fry.</i></span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Passing down a glass corridor&mdash;from the roof of which the grapes hang in
+great and luscious clusters in the autumn&mdash;you reach<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_577" id="Page_577">[Pg 577]</a></span> the studio. It is
+a big, square room. Run your eyes round the walls, try to take in its
+thousand and one quaint treasures. You can see humour in every one of
+them&mdash;merriment oozes out of every single item. Stand before this almost
+colossal statue of Venus. She of the almost faultless waist and
+fashion-plate divine rests on a coal-box. Sit down on the sofa. It is
+the stuffed lid of another receptacle for fuel. Golf is one of the
+artist's hobbies, and he invariably plays with clergymen&mdash;excellent
+thing for the character. We light our cigars from a capital little
+match-stand modelled out of a golf-ball, and the next instant "Lika
+Joko" is juggling with three or four balls. A clever juggler, forsooth.
+And the battledore and shuttlecock? Excellent exercise. After a long
+spell of work, the battledore is seized and the shuttlecock bounces up
+to the glass roof. It went through the other day, hence play has been
+postponed owing to the numerous engagements of the local glazier.
+Fencing foils are in a corner; a quaint arrangement of helmets, masks,
+and huge weapons <i>&agrave; la</i> Waterloo suggests "scalping trophies." The china
+is curious&mdash;there is even an empty ginger jar&mdash;picked up in country
+places, of a rare and valuable old-fashioned type. He has the finest
+collection of old tinsel pictures of the Richard III. and Dick Turpin
+order in the kingdom, and values an old book full of tinsel patterns of
+the most exquisite design and workmanship. Old glass pictures are
+scattered about, "Lord Nelson's Funeral Car," and Joey Grimaldi grins at
+you from the far corner of the room.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image578.jpg" width="450" height="336" alt="SCALPING TROPHIES." title="" />
+<span class="caption">SCALPING TROPHIES.<br />
+
+<i>From a Photo. by Elliott &amp; Fry.</i></span>
+</div>
+
+<p>All this and much more is characteristic of the humour of the famous
+caricaturist. We look at "Lika Joko's" skits and laugh; we take a
+delight in picking out from his ingenious pictorial mazes our own
+particular politician or favourite actor; we roar at "Lika Joko's"
+comicality, and only know him as a caricaturist. But there is another
+side to this studio picture&mdash;Mr. Harry Furniss's pencil is such that it
+can make you weep; so realistic, indeed, that when in his early days he
+was sent to sketch scenes of distress and misery, they were so terribly
+real and dramatic that the paper in question dared not publish them. No
+artist appreciates a "situation" better than he. I looked through
+portfolio after portfolio, drawer after drawer&mdash;full of character
+studies and work of a serious character done in all parts of the world.
+These have never been given to the public. Should they ever be
+published, Mr. Harry Furniss will at once be voted as serious and
+dramatic an artist as he is an eminently refined yet outrageously
+humorous caricaturist. He is a great reader&mdash;he once collected first
+editions. We begin to talk seriously, when he suddenly closes the
+portfolio with a bang, shuts up once more his hidden and unknown
+talents, and hastens to inform you that he is a member of the Thirteen
+Club&mdash;Irving and he were elected together&mdash;and believes in helping other
+people to salt, dining thirteen on the thirteenth, with thirteen
+courses, etc. Always passes under ladders, and swears by peacocks'
+feathers.</p>
+
+<p>We stand before the great easel in the middle of the room&mdash;though not
+much work is done there. He prefers to work standing at a desk. He draws
+all his pictures very large; they are studies from life. It prevents the
+work from getting cramped.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_578" id="Page_578">[Pg 578]</a></span> The same model has stood for all his
+principal people for the last ten years, and he has a wardrobe of
+artistic "props" big enough to fit out every member of the House of
+Commons. He is a perfect business man. His ledger is a model book. Every
+one of his pictures is numbered. In this book spaces are ruled off
+for&mdash;Subject, Publisher, When delivered, Published, Price, When paid,
+When drawing returned, Price of original, and What came of it. Humour by
+no means knocks system out of a man. Look at the score of pigeon-holes
+round the studio. As we are talking together now his secretary is
+"typing off" his illustrated weekly letter which finds a place in the
+<i>St. James's Budget</i>, <i>New York World</i>, <i>Weekly Scotsman</i>, <i>Yorkshire
+Weekly Post</i>, <i>Liverpool Weekly Post</i>, <i>Nottinghamshire Guardian</i>,
+<i>South Wales Daily News</i>, <i>East Anglian Times</i>, and in Australia, India,
+the Cape, etc. He writes children's books and illustrates them. His
+impressions of America are in course of preparation. There is his weekly
+<i>Punch</i> work; he is dodging about all over the country giving his unique
+"Humours of Parliament" entertainment, and he found time to make some
+special sketches for this little article.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image579-1.jpg" width="450" height="329" alt="From a Drawing by Mr. Furniss." title="" />
+<span class="caption">From a Drawing by Mr. Furniss.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>We sat down. Tea was brought in&mdash;he believes in two big breakfast cups
+every afternoon&mdash;and with "Bogie," the Irish deerhound&mdash;so called owing
+to his very solemn-looking countenance&mdash;close by, Mr. Furniss went back
+as far as he could possibly remember, to March 26th, 1854. That is the
+date of his birthday.</p>
+
+<p>"I am always taken for an Irishman," said Mr. Furniss. "Nothing of the
+kind. My father was a Yorkshireman. He was in Ireland with my mother,
+and I believe I arrived at an unexpected moment. Possibly my artistic
+inclinations came through my mother. Her father was &AElig;neas Mackenzie, a
+well-known literary man of Newcastle-on-Tyne, and proprietor of several
+newspapers. He founded the Newcastle School of Politics, and Mr. Joseph
+Cowen&mdash;as a boy&mdash;got his first tuition in politics from sitting at the
+knee of my grandfather. A bust of him is in the Mechanics'
+Institute&mdash;which he founded."</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image579-2.jpg" width="450" height="613" alt="&quot;AT WORK.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;AT WORK.&quot;<br />
+
+<i>From a Photo. by Elliott &amp; Fry.</i></span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Little Harry was brought up in Wexford. He remembers being held up in
+his nurse's arms to see the <i>Great Eastern</i> pass on its first voyage,
+whilst an incident associated with the marriage of the Prince of Wales
+is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_579" id="Page_579">[Pg 579]</a></span> vividly impressed upon his mind. He was struck on the top of his hat
+by a "fizzing devil" made out of moist powder, which burnt a hole
+through it. He says that he would rather have this recollection on his
+mind now, than the "fizzer" on his head at the time. The young artist in
+embryo was a rare young pugilist at school. He was forced to use his
+fists, as friction was strong between the Irish and English lads at the
+school he went to. But he did well in athletic sports, and was never
+beaten in a hundred yards race. He firmly believes that this early
+athletic training is responsible for the rapid way in which he does
+everything to-day&mdash;be it walking or talking, eating or working, all is
+done on the hundred yards principle&mdash;to get there first.</p>
+
+<p>He was a spoilt boy&mdash;first of all because he was sent to a girls'
+school, but mainly from a very significant incident which happened at
+the Wesleyan College School in Dublin&mdash;a collegiate establishment from
+which pupils (not necessarily Wesleyans, for Mr. Furniss is not of that
+sect) passed to Trinity College&mdash;where he obtained all his education. He
+was not a studious lad. He found the editing, writing, illustrating,
+publishing, and entire bringing-out of a small journal he founded far
+more agreeable to his taste than Latin verbs and algebraical problems.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 250px;">
+<img src="images/image580.jpg" width="250" height="498" alt="STUDY OF AN IRISHMAN." title="" />
+<span class="caption">STUDY OF AN IRISHMAN.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"I was in knickerbockers at the time," he said, "and introduced to the
+schoolboy public&mdash;<i>The Schoolboy's Punch</i>. It sounds strangely prophetic
+as I think of it now. The entire make-up of it was <i>&agrave; la Punch</i>, and it
+had its cartoon every week. At that time the Davenport Cabinet Trick was
+all the rage, and the very first cartoon I drew was founded on that.
+Here is the picture: myself&mdash;as a schoolboy&mdash;being tied up with ropes
+depictive of Greek, Latin, Euclid, and other cutting and disagreeable
+items. I am placed in the cabinet&mdash;the school. The head-master, whom I
+flattered very much in the drawing, opens another cabinet and out steps
+the young student covered with glory and scholastic honours thick upon
+him! From that moment my school-master spoiled me. I left school and
+started work. I got a pound for my first drawing. A. M. Sullivan started
+a paper in Ireland on very similar lines to <i>Punch</i>. There was a wave in
+Ireland of better class journalism at this time which had never existed
+before or since. I slipped in. For some years I drew on wood and
+engraved my own work. I was given to understand that all black and white
+men engraved their own efforts, so I offered myself as an apprentice to
+an engraver.</p>
+
+<p>"He said: 'Don't come as an apprentice. If you will undertake to look
+after my office, I'll teach you the art of engraving.'"</p>
+
+<p>It meant a hard struggle for young Furniss. He was loaded down with
+clerical work, but in his own little room, when the day's labours were
+done, he would sit up till two and three in the morning. There was no
+quenching his earnestness. Work then with him was a real desire. It is
+so to-day. To rest is obnoxious to him.</p>
+
+<p>He worked away. The feeling in Ireland against Englishmen at that time
+was very strong. Tom Taylor, then the editor of <i>Punch</i>, saw some of his
+sketches in Dublin, and advised him to go to the West of Ireland to make
+studies of character. He was in Galway, and he had persuaded a number of
+Irishmen who were breaking stones to pause in their work<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_580" id="Page_580">[Pg 580]</a></span> and let him
+sketch them. They consented. The overseer came up.</p>
+
+<p>"What d'yer mane," he cried, "allowing this hathen Saxon to draw yer?"</p>
+
+<p>"I've never been out of Ireland in my life," said the artist; but the
+overseer had seized him, and but for the intervention of the men, whom
+he had paid liberally for the "sitting," he would have thrown him into
+the river.</p>
+
+<p>Then a great trouble came. His father was stricken with blindness. The
+young man came to London, and with something more than the proverbial
+half-crown in his pocket. He was nineteen years of age when he hurried
+out of Euston Station one morning and stood for a moment thinking&mdash;for
+he did not know a soul in the Metropolis. But he soon found an
+opportunity.</p>
+
+<p>"My first work was on <i>London Society</i>, for Florence Marryat," he said;
+"then for the <i>Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News</i>. The <i>Illustrated
+London News</i> employed me. I did such things as the Boat Race, Eton and
+Harrow cricket match, and similar subjects&mdash;all from a humorous point of
+view. I have had as many as three full pages in one number. Then came
+that terrible distress in the mining districts. I was married that year.
+I was sent away to "do" the Black Country, and well remember eating the
+first Christmas dinner of my married life alone in a Sheffield hotel.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image581.jpg" width="450" height="475" alt="MR. FURNISS ON &quot;RHODA.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">MR. FURNISS ON &quot;RHODA.&quot;<br />
+
+<i>From a Photo. by Elliott &amp; Fry.</i></span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Those sketches were never published. They were too terribly real. The
+people dying in rooms with scarcely a stick of furniture, the children
+opening the cupboards and showing them bare, appealed to me, and my
+pencil refused to depict anything else. It was the same kind of thing
+that was afterwards made notorious by Sims and Barnard in "How the Poor
+Live." I came back and was selected to do some electioneering work for
+the same paper. This necessitated the putting off of a little dinner
+party to some friends, and I wired one of the invited to that effect.
+When I was starting, imagine my surprise to meet a <i>Graphic</i> artist on
+the platform, and to hear that my friend had unwisely given away the
+contents of my telegram! However, we chummed up. He stayed with
+friends&mdash;I at an hotel. I sat up all that night working after attending
+the meetings. At four o'clock I heard a knock at the door. A journalist.
+I was just about to put into my picture the large figures. I made him
+very much at home, and told him I would give him any information I knew
+as to the previous night's proceedings if he would act as my model. He
+did. We worked on till breakfast time, and we sat down together. I sent
+off my page&mdash;it was in a week before the <i>Graphic</i>! It was a good
+return. I had started on the Tuesday, got home on the Thursday, and
+never had my boots off the whole time! I'd rather keep my boots on for a
+week than disappoint an editor."</p>
+
+<p><i>Punch!</i></p>
+
+<p>I asked Mr. Furniss if Tom Taylor helped him to any considerable extent.
+Oh! dear, no. Tom Taylor wrote a terrible fist, spattered the page all
+over with ink, and invariably replied on the back of the letter sent
+him. At least, it was so in Mr. Furniss's case. He would send sketches
+to <i>Punch</i>; they were acknowledged as "unsuitable." They invariably
+turned up a week or so later&mdash;the idea<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_581" id="Page_581">[Pg 581]</a></span> re-drawn by a member of the
+staff! He began to despair. But that first cartoon in the schoolboy's
+periodical was always before him.</p>
+
+<p>"When Mr. Burnand became editor," continued Mr. Furniss, "I was working
+on the <i>Illustrated London News</i>. He saw one of the sketches and asked
+me to call&mdash;the result was that I have worked for them ever since. I
+started at very small things; my first was a small drawing of Temple
+Bar. Then, when Parliament opened, Mr. H. W. Lucy commenced
+<i>Toby</i>&mdash;by-the-bye, Lucy and I both joined the <i>Punch</i> table, the weekly
+dinner, together&mdash;and I worked with him. I have special permission at
+the House; as a matter of fact, I have the sanction of the Lord Great
+Chamberlain to sketch anywhere in the precincts of Westminster. My right
+there is an individual one."</p>
+
+<p>"But supposing, Mr. Furniss," I said, "they put a stop to you and your
+pencil entering?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'd go into Parliament!" came the ready reply. And, indeed, he has been
+approached on this subject by constituencies two or three times.</p>
+
+<p>We spoke of some of the eminent statesmen and others Mr. Furniss has
+caricatured. Mr. John Morley is the most difficult. He is not what an
+artist would call a black and white man. You must suggest the familiar
+red tie in your picture and then you have "caught" him.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 179px;">
+<img src="images/image582.jpg" width="179" height="500" alt="THE FURNISS FAMILY." title="" />
+<span class="caption">THE FURNISS FAMILY.<br /> <i>From a Photo. by Elliott &amp; Fry.</i></span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"I have seen Mr. Morley look a boy, a young man, and an old man&mdash;and all
+in an hour," said Mr. Furniss. "Mr. Asquith is difficult, too. But I
+don't think I have ever missed him, as there's a Penley look about his
+face and a decided low comedian's mouth that help you immensely. Sir
+Richard Temple is the easiest. Many members have some characteristic
+action which assists you materially. For instance, Mr. Joseph Arch
+always wipes his hands down his coat before shaking hands with you,
+whilst Mr. Goschen delights to play with his eye-glass when speaking.
+Lord Randolph Churchill likes to indulge in a little acrobatic exercise
+and balance himself on one foot, whilst Mr. Balfour hangs on
+persistently to the lapel of his coat when talking. All these little
+things help to 'mark' the man for the caricaturist. I invented
+Gladstone's collar and made Churchill small. Not because he is small,
+but because I think it is the caricaturist's art not so much to give an
+absolutely correct likeness, but rather to convey the character and
+value of the man through the lines you draw. Gladstone! A wonderful man
+for the caricaturist, and one of the finest. I have sat and watched the
+rose in his coat droop and fade, his hair become dishevelled with
+excitement, and his tie get round to the back of his neck."</p>
+
+<p>"And what do the wives of our estimable M.P.'s think of all this?" I
+hinted.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! I get most abusive letters from both sides. Wives of members write
+and ask me not to caricature their husbands.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_582" id="Page_582">[Pg 582]</a></span> One lady wrote to me the
+other day, and said if I would persist in caricaturing her husband,
+would I put him in a more fashionable coat? Now, this particular member
+is noted for the old-fashioned cut of the coats he wears. Another asked
+me to make the sharer of her joys and sorrows better looking; whilst
+only last week a lady&mdash;the wife of a particularly well-known
+M.P.&mdash;addressed a most plaintive letter to me, saying that since some of
+the younger members of her family had contrived to see my pictures they
+had become quite rude to their papa!</p>
+
+<p>"Why, members often <i>ask</i> me to caricature them. One member was very
+kindly disposed to me, and suggested that I should keep my eye on him. I
+did. Yet he cut me dead when he saw his picture! It's so discouraging,
+don't you know, when you are so anxious to oblige."</p>
+
+<p>I asked Mr. Furniss if he thought there was anything suggestive of
+cruelty in caricature.</p>
+
+<p>"Not in this country," he replied; "in Spain, Italy, and France&mdash;yes.
+Caricaturists there score off their cruelty. Listen to this. One night I
+was in the House. Mr. Gladstone rose to speak. He held his left hand up
+and referred to it as 'This old Parliamentary hand.' I noticed a
+fact&mdash;which men who had sat in that House for years had never seen. On
+that left hand Mr. Gladstone has only three fingers! Think of it&mdash;think
+of what your caricaturist with an inclination towards cruelty might have
+made of that fact, coupled with those significant words! I ask you
+again&mdash;think of it!"</p>
+
+<p>He spoke in thorough earnestness. He told me that he looked forward to
+the time when he should consign to the rag-basket the famous Gladstone
+collar and cease to play with Goschen's eye-glass. He is striving to
+accomplish something more&mdash;he would do it now, but it isn't marketable.
+Mr. Furniss is a sensible man. He caricatures to live; and, if the
+laughs follow, well, so much the better.</p>
+
+<p>The afternoon passed rapidly, and the studio became darker and darker.
+Venus on the coal-box looked quite ghostly, and a lay figure in the far
+corner was not calculated to comfort the nervously-inclined when amongst
+the "props" of an artist's studio. "Buzzy" merrily rushed in and
+announced dinner, and "Bogie" jumped up and barked his raptures at the
+word. "Bogie" knew it meant scraps. Mrs. Furniss and the children met us
+at the dining-room door. The youngsters' faces were as solemn as the
+Court of Queen's Bench. Little Lawrence looked up at me very demurely,
+the others waiting anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>"Please could you tell us what a spiral staircase is?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>A dead silence.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh!" I answered, anxious to show a superior knowledge of these
+peculiarly constructed "ups and downs," "It's&mdash;it's&mdash;it's one of those
+twirley-whirley"&mdash;here I illustrated my meaning by twirling my finger
+round and round.</p>
+
+<p>A shout of laughter went up.</p>
+
+<p>If the reader will try this little joke on a score of people, by the
+time the twentieth is arrived at he will then discover why the happiest
+quartette of youngsters in the immediate vicinity of Primrose Hill
+laughed so gaily.</p>
+
+<p>Then we all went in to dinner. How well the shirt-cuff story went down
+with the soup.</p>
+
+<p>"Pellegrini," said the artist, "used to remark somewhat sarcastically to
+his brother artists: 'Ah, you fellows are always making sketches. I
+carry all mine here&mdash;here in my brain!' Pellegrini wore very big cuffs.
+He made his sketches on them. Until this came out we thought his linen
+always dirty!"</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 323px;">
+<img src="images/image583.jpg" width="323" height="450" alt="BALLYHOOLY, M.P., GETS EXCITED." title="" />
+<span class="caption">BALLYHOOLY, M.P., GETS EXCITED.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Then Burnand came on with the beef.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_583" id="Page_583">[Pg 583]</a></span> The two fellow-workers on
+<i>Punch</i>&mdash;Mr. Burnand and Mr. Furniss&mdash;run pretty level in their ideas. A
+happy thought is often suggested to both of them through reading the
+same paragraph in a newspaper, and they cross in the post. We spoke of
+<i>Punch's</i> Grand Old Man&mdash;John Tenniel&mdash;of clever E. J. Milliken, whose
+really wonderful work is yet but little known. Mr. Milliken wrote
+"Childe Chappie"&mdash;and is "'Arry." Of Linley Sambourne, whom Mr. Furniss
+once saw walking down Bond Street, and had the strange intuition that he
+was the artist, connecting his work, and walk, and bearing together. He
+had never seen or spoken to him before. Charles Keene's name was
+mentioned. It was always the hardest matter to get Keene to make a
+speech. He far preferred the famous stump of a pipe to spouting. Mr.
+Furniss hurt Keene's feelings once with the happiest and kindest of
+compliments. It was at a little dinner party, and Mr. Furniss linked
+Keene's name with that of Robert Hunter&mdash;who did so much to provide open
+spaces for the people. He referred to Keene as "the greatest provider of
+open spaces!" Keene said he was never so grossly insulted&mdash;he never
+forgave Mr. Furniss. He failed to see the truly charming inference to be
+drawn from this remark.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image584.jpg" width="450" height="556" alt="&quot;THE ASSASSINATED SCARECROW, SOR!&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;THE ASSASSINATED SCARECROW, SOR!&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>We went into the drawing-room, and together ran through the pages of a
+huge volume. It contained the facsimiles of the pictures which comprised
+one of Mr. Furniss's biggest hits&mdash;what was in reality an attack on the
+Royal Academy. His "Artistic Joke"&mdash;a sub-title given to this exhibition
+by the <i>Times</i> in a long preliminary notice&mdash;created a sensation six
+years ago. He attacked the Royal Academy in a good-natured way, because
+he was not himself a member of that influential body. But there was a
+more solid and serious reason. "I saw how cruel they were to younger
+men," he said; "the long odds against a painter getting his work
+exhibited, the indiscriminate selection of canvases."</p>
+
+<p>This really great effort on the part of Mr. Furniss&mdash;this idea to
+caricature the style of the eminent artists of the day&mdash;kept him at work
+for more than two years. There were eighty-seven canvases in all. His
+friends came and went, but they saw nothing of the huge canvases hidden
+away in his studio. He worked at such a rate that he became nervous of
+himself. He would go to bed at night. He would wake to find himself
+cutting the style of an R.A. to pieces in his studio at early morn&mdash;in a
+state of semi-somnambulism. He fired his "Artistic Joke" off, the shot
+went home, and the effect was a startler for many people and in many
+places. It advanced Mr. Furniss in the world of art in a way he never
+expected, and did not a little for those he sought to benefit. One of
+these "jokes"&mdash;and a very dramatic one&mdash;is reproduced in these pages.</p>
+
+<p>The hour or two passed in the little drawing-room after dinner was
+delightful. We had his unique platform entertainment. Mr. Furniss was
+induced by the Birmingham and Midland Institute to appear on the
+platform as a lecturer. This was followed by his lecturing for two
+seasons all over the country, but finding that the Institutes made huge
+profits out of his efforts, and that his anecdotes and mimicry were the
+parts most relished, he abandoned the role of lecturer for that of
+entertainer with "The Humours of Parliament." As soon as he had crushed
+the idea that it was a lecture, people flocked to hear his anecdotes and
+to watch his acting, the result of his first short tour resulting in a
+clear profit of over &pound;2,000.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_584" id="Page_584">[Pg 584]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image585.jpg" width="450" height="577" alt="DRAWING FROM &quot;AN ARTISTIC JOKE.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">DRAWING FROM &quot;AN ARTISTIC JOKE.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>So it came about that young Frank closed his foreign stamp book, and
+"Buzzy" settled down in a corner by her mother's side and looked the
+little model she is. "Bogie" lay on the hearth-rug. Suddenly&mdash;we were
+all in "The House." We heard the young member make his maiden speech; we
+watched the mournful procession of the Speaker. Mr. Gladstone appeared
+upon the scene&mdash;he walked the room, and in a merry sort of way played
+with "Buzzy's" long curls&mdash;and took an intense interest in Frank's
+collection of foreign stamps. "Bogie" was evidently inclined to break
+out in a loud bark of presumable applause when the Irish member rose to
+his legs&mdash;the member for Ballyhooly&mdash;who had a question to ask the Chief
+Secretary for Ireland regarding an assassinated scarecrow! The reply did
+not satisfy him, and the Ballyhooly M.P. poured forth such a torrent of
+abuse upon the Chief Secretary's head that "Bogie's" bark came forth in
+boisterous tones just as the Speaker called the Irish representative to
+order!</p>
+
+<p>"What a hissing there was at one of my entertainments at Leicester,"
+said the humorist-caricaturist looking across at me with twinkling eyes.
+"A terrible hissing! I showed Mr. Gladstone on the sheet. Immediately it
+burst forth like a suddenly alarmed steam-engine. The audience rose in
+indignation&mdash;they tried to outdo it with frantic applause, but in spite
+of their lusty efforts it continued for several minutes.</p>
+
+<p>"'Turn him out&mdash;turn him out!' they cried. But we couldn't find the
+party who was acting so rudely.</p>
+
+<p>"Imagine my feelings next morning when I saw in the papers leading
+articles speaking<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_585" id="Page_585">[Pg 585]</a></span> in strong terms of this occurrence, which, one of
+them stated in bold type&mdash;'was a disgrace to the people of Leicester.'"</p>
+
+<p>"Bogie" rose from the hearth-rug, wagged his tail, and made his exit.</p>
+
+<p>"Good night, Buz."</p>
+
+<p>"Good night, Frank."</p>
+
+<p>"And did they ever discover this very unseemly person?" I asked Mr.
+Furniss when we were alone.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! I forgot to tell you," he said, "that it was the hissing of the
+lime in my magic lantern!"</p>
+
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Harry How.</span></p>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image586.jpg" width="450" height="545" alt="Telegraphic Address, Likajoko, London" title="" />
+<span class="caption">Telegraphic Address, Likajoko, London</span>
+</div>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_586" id="Page_586">[Pg 586]</a></span></p>
+<h2><i>Portraits of Celebrities at Different Times of their Lives.</i></h2>
+
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/image587-1.jpg" width="300" height="421" alt="AGE 10." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 10.<br />
+
+<i>From a Photo. by W. Andrews, Dublin.</i></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/image587-2.jpg" width="300" height="303" alt="Age 20." title="" />
+<span class="caption">Age 20.<br />
+<i>From a Photo. by W. &amp; D. Downey.</i></span>
+</div>
+
+
+<h3>HARRY FURNISS.</h3>
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">Born</span> 1854.</h4>
+
+<p>At ten years old Mr. Furniss was a pupil at the Wesleyan College School
+at Dublin, where he started and edited <i>The Schoolboy's Punch</i>, in the
+manner described in the extremely interesting interview which appears in
+the present number. At twenty he had just come up to London, and was
+working for the illustrated papers. At twenty-six he joined the staff of
+<i>Punch</i>, with which his name has ever since been intimately connected.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/image587-3.jpg" width="300" height="375" alt="AGE 26." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 26.<br />
+<i>From a Photo. by C. Watkins, Camden Road, N.W.</i></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/image587-4.jpg" width="300" height="384" alt="PRESENT DAY." title="" />
+<span class="caption">PRESENT DAY.<br />
+<i>From a Photo by Debenham &amp; Gould.</i></span>
+</div>
+<hr style="width: 30%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_587" id="Page_587">[Pg 587]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/image588-1.jpg" width="300" height="352" alt="AGE 17." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 17.<br />
+
+<i>From a Photo, by A. Adams, Aberdeen.</i></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/image588-2.jpg" width="300" height="353" alt="AGE 24." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 24.<br />
+
+<i>From a Photo. by John Lamb, Aberdeen.</i></span>
+</div>
+
+
+<h3>SIR GEORGE REID, P.R.S.A.</h3>
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">Born</span> 1842.</h4>
+
+<p>Sir George Reid, P.R.S.A., was born in Aberdeen, N.B., in the year 1842,
+and when nineteen years of age commenced his artistic studies at the
+"Trustees' Academy," in the City of Edinburgh, and shortly afterwards in
+Utrecht, under Mollinger. In 1870 he quitted the latter place for Paris,
+where he continued his studies; and for several months in 1871 completed
+his student life with Israels, at The Hague. He has proved himself a
+true artist, and proficient in all departments&mdash;both figure and
+landscape. Latterly he has applied himself to portrait painting, in
+which he finds few competitors. He has done much in the way of book
+illustrating. He was elected an Associate of the Royal Scottish Academy
+in 1870, and a full member seven years afterwards, receiving on the
+death of Sir W. Fettes Douglas the unanimous call of his brethren to
+occupy the chair as President.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/image588-3.jpg" width="300" height="409" alt="AGE 36." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 36.<br />
+
+<i>From a Photo. by John Lamb, Aberdeen.</i></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/image588-4.jpg" width="300" height="420" alt="PRESENT DAY." title="" />
+<span class="caption">PRESENT DAY.<br />
+
+<i>From a Photo. by A. Inglis, Edinburgh.</i></span>
+</div>
+
+<hr style="width: 30%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_588" id="Page_588">[Pg 588]</a></span></p>
+<h3>COLIN HUNTER, A.R.A.</h3>
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">Born</span> 1841.</h4>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/image589-1.jpg" width="300" height="317" alt="AGE 15." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 15.<br />
+
+<i>From a Daguerreotype.</i></span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Colin Hunter, A.R.A., was born in Glasgow, July 16, 1841, and is the son
+of John Hunter, bookseller and postmaster, of Helensburgh. He was
+educated in that town, and began painting at twenty years of age, after
+four years' clerkship. His education as a painter was derived from
+Nature. Mr. Hunter was elected an Associate of the Royal Academy in
+January, 1884, and is also a Member of the Royal Scottish Water Colour
+Society.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/image589-2.jpg" width="300" height="283" alt="AGE 24." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 24.<br />
+
+<i>From a Photo. by Ovinius-Davis, Glasgow.</i></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/image589-3.jpg" width="300" height="285" alt="AGE 32." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 32.<br />
+
+<i>From a Photo. by Fradelle &amp; Marshall, London.</i></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image589-4.jpg" width="450" height="316" alt="PRESENT DAY." title="" />
+<span class="caption">PRESENT DAY.<br />
+
+<i>From a Photograph.</i></span>
+</div>
+
+<hr style="width: 30%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_589" id="Page_589">[Pg 589]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/image590-1.jpg" width="300" height="467" alt="AGE 20." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 20.<br />
+
+<i>From a Drawing by Carl Hartmann.</i></span>
+</div>
+
+
+<h3>SIR FREDERICK AUGUSTUS ABEL, BART., K.C.B., D.C.L., F.R.S.</h3>
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">Born</span> 1827.</h4>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/image590.jpg" width="300" height="505" alt="AGE 28." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 28.<br />
+
+<i>From a Photo. by Maull &amp; Co., London.</i></span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Sir Fredk. A. Abel, Bart., who has lately been prominent before the
+public in connection with the recent opening of the Imperial Institute,
+of which he has been Organizing Secretary from 1887, was born in London
+in 1827, and is known principally in connection with chemistry and
+explosives. His published works are: "The Modern History of Gunpowder,"
+1866; "Gun Cotton," 1866; "On Explosive Agents," 1872, "Researches in
+Explosives," 1875; and "Electricity Applied to Explosive Purposes,"
+1884. He is also joint-author with Colonel Bloxam of a "Handbook of
+Chemistry." Sir Frederick Abel has been President of the Institute of
+Chemistry, the Society of Chemical Industry, and the Society of
+Telegraph Engineers and Electricians. He was appointed Associate Member
+of the Ordnance Committee in 1867; and is Chemist to the War Department
+and likewise Chemical Referee to the Government. In 1883 he was one of
+the Royal Commissioners on Accidents in Mines, and was President of the
+British Association at the Leeds meeting, 1890. He was created C.B. in
+1877, Hon. D.C.L., Oxford, in 1883, knighted in the same year, and
+raised to the rank of Baronet at the opening of the Imperial Institute.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/image590-2.jpg" width="300" height="359" alt="AGE 50." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 50.<br />
+
+<i>From a Photograph.</i></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/image590-4.jpg" width="300" height="361" alt="AGE 65." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 65.<br />
+
+<i>From a Photo. by Barraud, London.</i></span>
+</div>
+
+<hr style="width: 30%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_590" id="Page_590">[Pg 590]</a></span></p>
+<h3>LORD KELVIN.</h3>
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">Born</span> 1824.</h4>
+
+<p>William Thomson, Lord Kelvin, was born at Belfast on the 26th of June,
+1824. His father was a distinguished mathematician, and was Professor of
+Mathematics, first in Belfast, and afterwards in Glasgow University. At
+a very early age, Lord Kelvin showed extraordinary mathematical ability;
+and he passed with great distinction, first through the University of
+Glasgow, and then through Cambridge, where he gained the Second
+Wranglership and the first Smith's Prize. He became Professor of Natural
+Philosophy in the University of Glasgow in 1846, at the age of
+twenty-two; and he still holds that office. He was one of the pioneer
+band who laid the first successful Atlantic cable, in 1858. In 1866 Her
+Majesty conferred the honour of knighthood on him for his distinguished
+services to the science and practice of submarine telegraphy. Lord
+Kelvin is the author of many inventions. His mariner's compass and
+sounding machine have done good service to seamen. His electrical
+instruments are the standards all over the world. He is President of the
+Royal Society and member of every important scientific society at home
+and abroad. In January, 1892, the Queen conferred upon him his peerage.
+He held the Colquhoun Sculls, at Cambridge, for two years. He is a
+sailor at heart and an enthusiastic yachtsman; and, among amateurs, a
+more keen lover of music it would be difficult to find.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 668px;">
+<img src="images/image591.jpg" width="668" height="1000" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<hr style="width: 30%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_591" id="Page_591">[Pg 591]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 187px;">
+<img src="images/image592-1.jpg" width="187" height="225" alt="AGE 2." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 2.<br />
+
+<i>From a Painting.</i></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 191px;">
+<img src="images/image592-2.jpg" width="191" height="225" alt="AGE 8." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 8.<br />
+
+<i>From a Photo. by R. Tudor Williams, Monmouth.</i></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 216px;">
+<img src="images/image592-3.jpg" width="216" height="225" alt="AGE 40." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 40.
+
+<i>From a Photo. by M. Guttenberg, Manchester.</i></span>
+</div>
+
+
+<h3>CARDINAL-ARCHBISHOP VAUGHAN.</h3>
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">Born</span> 1832.</h4>
+
+<p>His Eminence Herbert Vaughan, D.D., is the eldest son of the late
+Lieut.-Colonel Vaughan, of Courtfield, Herefordshire, born at
+Gloucester, April 15, 1832, and was educated at Stonyhurst College,
+Lancashire, on the Continent, and in Rome. On the death of Bishop
+Turner, he was elected Bishop of Salford, a post which he held until his
+recent elevation to the rank of Cardinal-Archbishop.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 198px;">
+<img src="images/image592-4.jpg" width="198" height="400" alt="AGE 25." title="" />
+<span class="caption">AGE 25.<br />
+
+<i>From a Photo. by Jules G&eacute;ruzet, Brussels.</i></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 226px;">
+<img src="images/image592-5.jpg" width="226" height="400" alt="PRESENT DAY." title="" />
+<span class="caption">PRESENT DAY.<br />
+
+<i>From a Photo. by G. Felici, Rome.</i></span>
+</div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_592" id="Page_592">[Pg 592]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 667px;">
+<img src="images/image593.jpg" width="667" height="1000" alt="The Father and Brothers of Cardinal-Archbishop Vaughan." title="" />
+<span class="caption">The Father and Brothers of Cardinal-Archbishop Vaughan.</span>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_593" id="Page_593">[Pg 593]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image594-1.jpg" width="450" height="319" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<h3>XII.&mdash;ZIG-ZAG ACCIPITRAL.</h3>
+
+
+<p>The accipitral birds are the eagles, the vultures, the falcons, the
+owls&mdash;all those birds that bite and tear unhappy mammals as well as
+birds of more peaceful habits than themselves. They have all, it will be
+observed, Roman noses, which may be the reason why the Romans adopted<span class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image594-2.jpg" width="450" height="78" alt="" title="" />
+</span>
+the eagle as a standard; as also it may not. They have striking
+characteristics of their own, and have been found very useful by poets
+and other people who have to wander off the main subject to make plain
+what they mean. The owl is the wiseacre of Nature, the vulture is a vile
+harpy, and the eagle is the embodiment of everything great and mighty,<span class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image594-3.jpg" width="450" height="105" alt="" title="" />
+</span>
+and glorious and free, and swooping and catoptrical. There is very
+little to say against the eagle, except that he looks a deal the better
+a long way off, like an impressionist picture or a volcano. When the
+eagle is flying and swooping, or soaring and staring impudently at the
+sun, or reproaching an old feather of his own in the arrow that sticks
+in his chest, or mewing his mighty youth (a process I never quite
+understood)&mdash;when he is doing noble and poetical things of this class at
+an elevation of a great many thousand feet above the sea level he is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_594" id="Page_594">[Pg 594]</a></span>
+sublime. When you meet him down below, on his feet, much of the
+sublimity is rubbed off.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 250px;">
+<img src="images/image595-3.jpg" width="250" height="143" alt="CHARLEY." title="" />
+<span class="caption">CHARLEY.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 225px;">
+<img src="images/image595-1.jpg" width="225" height="159" alt="CORNS,&mdash;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">CORNS,&mdash;</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 178px;">
+<img src="images/image595-4.jpg" width="178" height="200" alt="BUNIONS,&mdash;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">BUNIONS,&mdash;</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/image595-2.jpg" width="300" height="192" alt="CHILBLAINS, OR&mdash;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">CHILBLAINS, OR&mdash;</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 149px;">
+<img src="images/image595-5.jpg" width="149" height="225" alt="IKINESS?" title="" />
+<span class="caption">IKINESS?</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>There is only one eagle in the world with whom I can claim anything like
+a confidential friendship, although I know many. His name is Charley.
+If, after a chat with Bob the Bactrian, you will turn your back to the
+camel-house and walk past the band-stand toward the eagles' aviaries,
+you will observe that the first corner cage is occupied by wedge-tailed
+eagles&mdash;a most disrespectful name, by-the-bye, I think. There are
+various perches, including a large tree-trunk, for these birds; but one
+bird, the oldest in the cage, doesn't use them. He keeps on the floor by
+the bars facing the place where Suffa Culli and Jung Perchad stand to
+take up passengers, and looks out keenly for cats. That is Charley. He
+is all right when you know him, is Charley, and I have it on the best
+authority that there are no flies on him. A rat on the straggle has been
+known to turn up in this aviary and run the gauntlet of all the
+cages&mdash;till he reached Charley; nothing alive and eatable ever got past
+<i>him</i>. I have all the esteem and friendship for Charley that any eagle
+has a right to expect; but I can't admit the least impressiveness in his
+walk. An eagle's feet are not meant to walk with, but to grab things. An
+eagle's walk betrays a lamentable bandy-leggedness, and his toe-nails
+click awkwardly against the ground. This makes him plant his feet
+gingerly and lift them quickly, so that worthy old ladies suppose him to
+be afflicted with lameness or bunions, an opinion which disgusts the
+bird, as you may observe for yourself; for you will never find an eagle
+in these Gardens submitting himself to be fondled by an old lady
+visitor. It is by way of repudiating any suggestion of bunions that the
+eagle adopts a raffish, off-hand, chickaleary sort of roll in the gait,
+so that altogether, especially as viewed from behind, a walking eagle
+has an appearance of perpetually knocking 'em in the Old Kent Road. On
+Charley's next birthday I shall present him, I think, with a proper
+pearly suit, with kicksies cut saucy over<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_595" id="Page_595">[Pg 595]</a></span> the trotters, and an artful
+fakement down the side, if the Society will allow me.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/image596-1.jpg" width="400" height="243" alt="A PASSING SNACK." title="" />
+<span class="caption">A PASSING SNACK.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 188px;">
+<img src="images/image596-2.jpg" width="188" height="400" alt="DINNER AHOY!" title="" />
+<span class="caption">DINNER AHOY!</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>There is nothing in the world that pleases an eagle better at
+dinner-time than a prime piece of cat. Charley tells me that, upon the
+whole, he prefers a good, plump, mouse-fed tabby; he adds that he never
+yet heard of a tame eagle being kept at a sausage shop, though he would
+like a situation of that sort himself, very much. The stoop of a free
+eagle as it takes a living victim is, no doubt, a fine thing, except for
+the victim; but the grabbing of cut-up food here in captivity is merely
+comic. The eagle, with his Whitechapel lurch, makes for the morsel and
+takes it in his stride; then he stands on it in a manner somehow
+suggesting pattens, and pecks away at the hair&mdash;if, luckily, he has
+secured a furry piece. I am not intimate with any eagle but Charley, but
+I am very friendly with all of them&mdash;golden, tawny, white-tailed, and
+the rest, with their scowls and their odd winks&mdash;all but one other of
+the wedge-tailers, who stays for ever at the top of the tree trunk and
+looks out westward, trying to distinguish the cats in the gardens of St.
+John's Wood; he is reserved as well as uppish, and I don't know him to
+speak to.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/image596-3.jpg" width="300" height="196" alt="UNCIVIL BAWLINGS." title="" />
+<span class="caption">UNCIVIL BAWLINGS.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>I am pretty intimate with many of the owls. The owl I know least is a
+little Scops owl, kept alone in the insect-house. He has for next-door
+neighbour a sad old reprobate&mdash;Cocky, the big Triton cockatoo&mdash;who
+abuses him horribly. The fact is, they both occupy a recess which once
+Cocky had all to himself, and now Cocky bullies the intruder up hill and
+down dale; although little Scops would gladly go somewhere else if he
+could, and takes no notice of Cocky's uncivil bawlings further than to
+lift his near wing apprehensively at each outburst.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_596" id="Page_596">[Pg 596]</a></span> He and I have not
+been able to improve our acquaintance greatly, partly because he is out
+of reach, and partly because Cocky's conversation occupies most of his
+time.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 550px;">
+<img src="images/image597-1.jpg" width="550" height="219" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>The Zoo owls are a lamentably scattered family. Another Scops owl, with
+one eye, lives in the eastern aviary, in Church's care. He is a
+charming, furious little ruffian (I am speaking of the owl, and not of
+Church), and perfectly ready to peck any living thing, quite
+irrespective of size. Where he lost his eye is a story of his own, for
+he was first met with but one. He sits on his perch with a furious cock
+of the ears&mdash;which are not ears at all, but feathers&mdash;with the aspect of
+being permanently prepared to repel boarders; and the only thing that
+could possibly add to his fierceness of appearance would be a patch over
+the sight of the demolished eye; a little present I would gladly make
+myself, if he would let me.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 194px;">
+<img src="images/image597-2.jpg" width="194" height="400" alt="THE SCOWLING SCOPS." title="" />
+<span class="caption">THE SCOWLING SCOPS.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>He lives just underneath a much less savage little Naked-foot Owl, who
+doesn't resent your existence with his beak, but gazes at you with a
+most extreme air of shocked surprise. He doesn't attack you bodily for
+standing on this earth on your own feet&mdash;he is too much grieved and
+scandalized. He looks at you as a teetotal lady of the Anti-Gambling
+League would look at her nephew if he offered to toss her for whiskies.
+He follows you with his glare of outraged propriety till you shrink
+behind Church and sneak away, with an indescribable feeling of personal
+depravity previously unknown. Why should this pharisaical little bird
+make one feel a criminal? As a matter of fact, he is nothing but a
+raffish fly-by-night himself; and his pious horror is assumed, I
+believe, as much to keep his eyes wide open and him awake as to impose
+on one.</p>
+
+<p>The owls' cages proper are away behind the llamas' house, and here you
+may study owl nature in plenty; and you may observe the owls, like
+people sitting through a long sermon, affecting various concealments and
+excuses for going to sleep in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_597" id="Page_597">[Pg 597]</a></span> the daytime. The milky eagle-owl pretends
+to be waiting for a friend who never keeps his appointment. You come
+upon him as he is dozing away quietly; he sees you just between his
+eyelids, and at once stares angrily down the path as if he were sick of
+waiting, and the other owl already half an hour overdue. Of course there
+is no owl coming, so he shakes his head testily and half shuts his eyes.
+If you go away then, he goes to sleep again. If you stay, he presently
+makes another pretence of pulling out his watch and wondering if that
+owl is ever coming. He has practised the transparent deception so long
+that he does it now mechanically, and sleeps, I believe, or nearly so,
+through the whole process. The oriental owl does it rather differently.
+He doesn't open his eyes when you first wake him&mdash;this in order to give
+greater verisimilitude to his pretence of profound meditation; he wishes
+you to understand that it is not your presence that causes him to open
+his eyes, but the natural course of his philosophical speculations. As a
+pundit, he disdains to appear to observe you; so he gazes solemnly at a
+vast space with nothing whatever for its centre. He sees you, but he
+knows you for a creature that never carries raw meat with it, like a
+keeper; a creature beneath the notice of <i>Bubo orientalis</i>.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 159px;">
+<img src="images/image598-1.jpg" width="159" height="225" alt="MILKY REPOSE." title="" />
+<span class="caption">MILKY REPOSE.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 212px;">
+<img src="images/image598-2.jpg" width="212" height="225" alt="IS HE COMING?" title="" />
+<span class="caption">IS HE COMING?</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 178px;">
+<img src="images/image598-3.jpg" width="178" height="225" alt="WHAT A NUISANCE!" title="" />
+<span class="caption">WHAT A NUISANCE!</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>As a song-bird, the owl is not a conspicuous success. Perhaps he has
+learned this in the Zoo, for he cannot be induced to perform during
+visiting hours. He is a reserved person, and exclusive. If you, as a
+stranger, attempt to scrape his acquaintance, he meets you with an
+indignant stare&mdash;confound your impudence! Nothing in this world can
+present such a picture of offended, astounded dignity as an owl. I often
+wonder what he said when Noah ordered him peremptorily into the Ark. As
+for myself, I should as soon think of ordering one of the beadles at the
+Bank.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 188px;">
+<img src="images/image598-4.jpg" width="188" height="225" alt="NOT YET?" title="" />
+<span class="caption">NOT YET?</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 165px;">
+<img src="images/image598-5.jpg" width="165" height="225" alt="OH, HANG IT!" title="" />
+<span class="caption">OH, HANG IT!</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Many worthy owls, long since passed away as living things, now exist in
+their astral forms as pepper-boxes and tobacco-jars. They probably
+belonged, in life, to the same species as a friend of mine here, who
+exhibits one of their chief physical features. He sits immovably still,
+so far as his body&mdash;his jar or pepper-reservoir&mdash;is concerned; indeed,
+if he is not disturbed, he sits immovably altogether, and sleeps. When
+he is disturbed he wakes in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_598" id="Page_598">[Pg 598]</a></span> instalments, opening one eye at a time. He
+fixes you with his wild, fiery eye, his indignant stare. Start to walk
+round him; the head turns, and the stare follows you, with no movement
+whatever of the part containing the pepper. The head slowly turns and
+turns, without the smallest indication of stopping anywhere. I never
+tempted it farther than once round, but walked back the other way, for
+fear of strangling a valuable bird. Besides, I remembered an owl
+pepper-box once, which became loose in the screw through continual
+turning, so that the head fell off into your plate, and all the pepper
+after it.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 63px;">
+<img src="images/image599-left.jpg" width="63" height="109" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+<div class="figright" style="width: 90px;">
+<img src="images/image599-right.jpg" width="90" height="363" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/image599-top.jpg" width="400" height="120" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>The biggest owls are the eagle-owls. The eagle-owls here occupy a
+similar sort of situation to that of the hermit in an old tea-garden. In
+a secluded nook behind the camel-house a brick-built cave is kept in a
+wire cage, which not only hinders the owls from escaping, but prevents
+them taking the cave with them if they do. The cave is fitted up with
+the proper quantity of weird gloom and several convenient perches; the
+perches, however, are indistinct, because the gloom is obvious. In the
+midst of it you may see two fiery eyes, like the fire-balls from a Roman
+candle, and nothing else. This is the most one often has a chance of
+seeing here in bright day. Often the eagle-owls are asleep, and then you
+do not even see the fireworks. I know the big eagle-owl fairly well;
+that is to say, I am on snarling terms with him. But once he has settled
+in his cave he won't come out, even when I call him Zadkiel.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 273px;">
+<img src="images/image599-1.jpg" width="273" height="450" alt="THE EAGLE-OWLS&#39; RETREAT." title="" />
+<span class="caption">THE EAGLE-OWLS&#39; RETREAT.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>There is nothing much more grotesque than a row of small barn owls, just
+awakened from sleep and curious about the disturber. There is something<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_599" id="Page_599">[Pg 599]</a></span>
+about the odd gaze and twist of the neck that irresistibly reminds me of
+an illustration in an Old Saxon or Early English manuscript.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/image600-1.jpg" width="300" height="138" alt="SLEEP." title="" />
+<span class="caption">SLEEP.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;">
+<img src="images/image600-2.jpg" width="350" height="158" alt="WHO SAID RATS?" title="" />
+<span class="caption">WHO SAID RATS?</span>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>I am not particularly friendly with any of the vultures. Walk past their
+cages with the determination to ingratiate yourself with them. You will
+change your mind. There are very few birds that I should not like to
+keep as pets if I had the room, but the vulture is the first of them. I
+don't know any kind of vulture whose personal appearance wouldn't hang<span class="figright" style="width: 301px;">
+<img src="images/image600-3.jpg" width="301" height="400" alt="THE ANGOLA." title="" />
+<span class="caption">THE ANGOLA.</span>
+</span>
+him at a court of Judge Lynch. The least unpleasant-looking of the lot
+is the little Angola vulture, who is put among the kites; and she is bad
+enough: a horrible eighteenth-century painted and powdered old woman; a
+Pompadour of ninety. The large bearded vulture is not only an
+uncompanionable fellow to look at, but he doesn't behave respectably. It
+is not respectable to hurl yourself bodily against anybody looking over
+a precipice and unaware of your presence, so as to break him up on the
+rocks below, and dine off his prime cuts. I have no doubt that
+Self&mdash;(Self, by-the-bye, keeps eagles and vultures as well as
+camels)&mdash;has any amount of sympathy for his charges, but who <i>could</i>
+make a pet of a turkey-vulture, with its nasty, raw-looking red head, or
+of a cinereous vulture, with its unwholesome eyes and its
+unclean-looking blue wattle? No, I am not over-fond of a vulture. He is
+always a dissipated-looking ruffian, of boiled eye and blotchy
+complexion, and you know as you look at him that he would prefer to see
+you dead rather than alive, so that he might safely take your eyes by
+way of an appetizer, and forthwith proceed to lift away your softer
+pieces preparatory to strolling under your ribs like a jackdaw in a cage
+much too small. He sits there placid, unwinsome, and patient; waiting
+for you to die. But he has his little vanities. He is tremendously<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_600" id="Page_600">[Pg 600]</a></span>
+proud of his wings&mdash;and they certainly are wings to astonish. On a warm
+day he likes to open them for coolness, but often he makes this a mere
+excuse for showing off. He waits till some easily-impressed visitor
+comes along&mdash;not a regular frequenter. Then he stands up and spreads his
+great pinions abroad, and perhaps turns about, and the visitor is duly
+impressed. So the vulture stands and receives the admiration, hoping the
+while that the visitor has heart disease, and will drop dead where he
+stands. And when the visitor walks off without dying the old harpy lets
+his wings fall open, ready for somebody else.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;">
+<img src="images/image601.jpg" width="500" height="716" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_601" id="Page_601">[Pg 601]</a></span></p>
+<h2><i>The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes.</i></h2>
+
+<h3>XIX.&mdash;THE ADVENTURE OF THE REIGATE SQUIRE.</h3>
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">By A. Conan Doyle.</span></h4>
+
+
+<p>It was some time before the health of my friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes,
+recovered from the strain caused by his immense exertions in the spring
+of '87. The whole question of the Netherland-Sumatra Company and of the
+colossal schemes of Baron Maupertins are too recent in the minds of the
+public, and are too intimately concerned with politics and finance, to
+be fitting subjects for this series of sketches. They led, however, in
+an indirect fashion to a singular and complex problem, which gave my
+friend an opportunity of demonstrating the value of a fresh weapon among
+the many with which he waged his life-long battle against crime.</p>
+
+<p>On referring to my notes, I see that it was upon the 14th of April that
+I received a telegram from Lyons, which informed me that Holmes was
+lying ill in the Hotel Dulong. Within twenty-four hours I was in his
+sick room, and was relieved to find that there was nothing formidable in
+his symptoms. His iron constitution, however, had broken down under the
+strain of an investigation which had extended over two months, during
+which period he had never worked less than fifteen hours a day, and had
+more than once, as he assured me, kept to his task for five days at a
+stretch. The triumphant issue of his labours could not save him from
+reaction after so terrible an exertion, and at a time when Europe was
+ringing with his name, and when his room was literally ankle-deep with
+congratulatory telegrams, I found him a prey to the blackest depression.
+Even the knowledge that he had succeeded where the police of three
+countries had failed, and that he had out-man&oelig;uvred at every point
+the most accomplished swindler in Europe, were insufficient to rouse him
+from his nervous prostration.</p>
+
+<p>Three days later we were back in Baker Street together, but it was
+evident that my friend would be much the better for a change, and the
+thought of a week of spring-time in the country was full of attractions
+to me also. My old friend Colonel Hayter, who had come under my
+professional care in Afghanistan, had now taken a house near Reigate, in
+Surrey, and had frequently asked me to come down to him upon a visit. On
+the last occasion he had remarked that if my friend would only come with
+me, he would be glad to extend his hospitality to him also. A little
+diplomacy was needed, but when Holmes understood that the establishment
+was a bachelor one, and that he would be allowed the fullest freedom, he
+fell in with my plans, and a week after our return from Lyons we were
+under the Colonel's roof. Hayter was a fine old soldier, who had seen
+much of the world, and he soon found, as I had expected, that Holmes and
+he had plenty in common.</p>
+
+<p>On the evening of our arrival we were sitting in the Colonel's gun-room
+after dinner, Holmes stretched upon the sofa, while Hayter and I looked
+over his little armoury of fire-arms.</p>
+
+<p>"By the way," said he, suddenly, "I think I'll take one of these pistols
+upstairs with me in case we have an alarm."</p>
+
+<p>"An alarm!" said I.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, we've had a scare in this part lately. Old Acton, who is one of
+our county magnates, had his house broken into last Monday. No great
+damage done, but the fellows are still at large."</p>
+
+<p>"No clue?" asked Holmes, cocking his eye at the Colonel.</p>
+
+<p>"None as yet. But the affair is a petty one, one of our little country
+crimes, which must seem too small for your attention, Mr. Holmes, after
+this great international affair."</p>
+
+<p>Holmes waved away the compliment, though his smile showed that it had
+pleased him.</p>
+
+<p>"Was there any feature of interest?"</p>
+
+<p>"I fancy not. The thieves ransacked the library and got very little for
+their pains. The whole place was turned upside down, drawers burst open
+and presses ransacked, with the result that an odd volume of Pope's
+'Homer,' two plated candlesticks, an ivory letter-weight, a small oak
+barometer, and a ball of twine, are all that have vanished."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_602" id="Page_602">[Pg 602]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"What an extraordinary assortment!" I exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, the fellows evidently grabbed hold of anything they could get."</p>
+
+<p>Holmes grunted from the sofa.</p>
+
+<p>"The county police ought to make something of that," said he. "Why, it
+is surely obvious that&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>But I held up a warning finger.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image603.jpg" width="450" height="307" alt="&quot;I HELD UP A WARNING FINGER.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;I HELD UP A WARNING FINGER.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"You are here for a rest, my dear fellow. For Heaven's sake, don't get
+started on a new problem when your nerves are all in shreds."</p>
+
+<p>Holmes shrugged his shoulders with a glance of comic resignation towards
+the Colonel, and the talk drifted away into less dangerous channels.</p>
+
+<p>It was destined, however, that all my professional caution should be
+wasted, for next morning the problem obtruded itself upon us in such a
+way that it was impossible to ignore it, and our country visit took a
+turn which neither of us could have anticipated. We were at breakfast
+when the Colonel's butler rushed in with all his propriety shaken out of
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"Have you heard the news, sir?" he gasped. "At the Cunningham's, sir!"</p>
+
+<p>"Burglary!" cried the Colonel, with his coffee cup in mid air.</p>
+
+<p>"Murder!"</p>
+
+<p>The Colonel whistled. "By Jove!" said he, "who's killed, then? The J.P.
+or his son?"</p>
+
+<p>"Neither, sir. It was William, the coachman. Shot through the heart,
+sir, and never spoke again."</p>
+
+<p>"Who shot him, then?"</p>
+
+<p>"The burglar, sir. He was off like a shot and got clean away. He'd just
+broke in at the pantry window when William came on him and met his end
+in saving his master's property."</p>
+
+<p>"What time?"</p>
+
+<p>"It was last night, sir, somewhere about twelve."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, then, we'll step over presently," said the Colonel, coolly settling
+down to his breakfast again. "It's a baddish business," he added, when
+the butler had gone. "He's our leading squire about here, is old
+Cunningham, and a very decent fellow too. He'll be cut up over this, for
+the man has been in his service for years, and was a good servant. It's
+evidently the same villains who broke into Acton's."</p>
+
+<p>"And stole that very singular collection?" said Holmes, thoughtfully.</p>
+
+<p>"Precisely."</p>
+
+<p>"Hum! It may prove the simplest matter in the world; but, all the same,
+at first glance this is just a little curious, is it not? A gang of
+burglars acting in the country might be expected to vary the scene of
+their operations, and not to crack two cribs in the same district within
+a few days. When you spoke last night of taking precautions, I remember
+that it passed through my mind<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_603" id="Page_603">[Pg 603]</a></span> that this was probably the last parish
+in England to which the thief or thieves would be likely to turn their
+attention; which shows that I have still much to learn."</p>
+
+<p>"I fancy it's some local practitioner," said the Colonel. "In that case,
+of course, Acton's and Cunningham's are just the places he would go for,
+since they are far the largest about here."</p>
+
+<p>"And richest?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, they ought to be; but they've had a law-suit for some years which
+has sucked the blood out of both of them, I fancy. Old Acton has some
+claim on half Cunningham's estate, and the lawyers have been at it with
+both hands."</p>
+
+<p>"If it's a local villain, there should not be much difficulty in running
+him down," said Holmes, with a yawn. "All right, Watson, I don't intend
+to meddle."</p>
+
+<p>"Inspector Forrester, sir," said the butler, throwing open the door.</p>
+
+<p>The official, a smart, keen-faced young fellow, stepped into the room.
+"Good morning, Colonel," said he. "I hope I don't intrude, but we hear
+that Mr. Holmes, of Baker Street, is here."</p>
+
+<p>The Colonel waved his hand towards my friend, and the Inspector bowed.</p>
+
+<p>"We thought that perhaps you would care to step across, Mr. Holmes."</p>
+
+<p>"The Fates are against you, Watson," said he, laughing. "We were
+chatting about the matter when you came in, Inspector. Perhaps you can
+let us have a few details." As he leaned back in his chair in the
+familiar attitude, I knew that the case was hopeless.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 299px;">
+<img src="images/image604.jpg" width="299" height="400" alt="&quot;INSPECTOR FORRESTER.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;INSPECTOR FORRESTER.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"We had no clue in the Acton affair. But here we have plenty to go on,
+and there's no doubt it is the same party in each case. The man was
+seen."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah!"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir. But he was off like a deer after the shot that killed poor
+William Kirwan was fired. Mr. Cunningham saw him from the bedroom
+window, and Mr. Alec Cunningham saw him from the back passage. It was a
+quarter to twelve when the alarm broke out. Mr. Cunningham had just got
+into bed, and Mister Alec was smoking a pipe in his dressing-gown. They
+both heard William, the coachman, calling for help, and Mister Alec he
+ran down to see what was the matter. The back door was open, and as he
+came to the foot of the stairs he saw two men wrestling together
+outside. One of them fired a shot, the other dropped, and the murderer
+rushed across the garden and over the hedge. Mr. Cunningham, looking out
+of his bedroom window, saw the fellow as he gained the road, but lost
+sight of him at once. Mister Alec stopped to see if he could help the
+dying man, and so the villain got clean away. Beyond the fact that he
+was a middle-sized man, and dressed in some dark stuff, we have no
+personal clue, but we are making energetic inquiries, and if he is a
+stranger we shall soon find him out."</p>
+
+<p>"What was this William doing there? Did he say anything before he died?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not a word. He lives at the lodge with his mother, and as he was a very
+faithful fellow, we imagine that he walked up to the house with the
+intention of seeing that all was right there. Of course, this Acton
+business has put everyone on their guard.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_604" id="Page_604">[Pg 604]</a></span> The robber must have just
+burst open the door&mdash;the lock has been forced&mdash;when William came upon
+him."</p>
+
+<p>"Did William say anything to his mother before going out?"</p>
+
+<p>"She is very old and deaf, and we can get no information from her. The
+shock has made her half-witted, but I understand that she was never very
+bright. There is one very important circumstance, however. Look at
+this!"</p>
+
+<p>He took a small piece of torn paper from a note-book and spread it out
+upon his knee.</p>
+
+<p>"This was found between the finger and thumb of the dead man. It appears
+to be a fragment torn from a larger sheet. You will observe that the
+hour mentioned upon it is the very time at which the poor fellow met his
+fate. You see that his murderer might have torn the rest of the sheet
+from him or he might have taken this fragment from the murderer. It
+reads almost as though it was an appointment."</p>
+
+<p>Holmes took up the scrap of paper, a facsimile of which is here
+reproduced:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/image605.jpg" width="300" height="214" alt="at quarterto twelve learn what maybe" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>"Presuming that it is an appointment," continued the Inspector, "it is,
+of course, a conceivable theory that this William Kirwan, although he
+had the reputation of being an honest man, may have been in league with
+the thief. He may have met him there, may even have helped him to break
+in the door, and then they may have fallen out between themselves."</p>
+
+<p>"This writing is of extraordinary interest," said Holmes, who had been
+examining it with intense concentration. "These are much deeper waters
+than I had thought." He sank his head upon his hands, while the
+Inspector smiled at the effect which his case had had upon the famous
+London specialist.</p>
+
+<p>"Your last remark," said Holmes, presently, "as to the possibility of
+there being an understanding between the burglar and the servant, and
+this being a note of appointment from one to the other, is an ingenious
+and not entirely an impossible supposition. But this writing opens
+up&mdash;&mdash;" he sank his head into his hands again and remained for some
+minutes in the deepest thought. When he raised his face again I was
+surprised to see that his cheek was tinged with colour and his eyes as
+bright as before his illness. He sprang to his feet with all his old
+energy.</p>
+
+<p>"I'll tell you what!" said he. "I should like to have a quiet little
+glance into the details of this case. There is something in it which
+fascinates me extremely. If you will permit me, Colonel, I will leave my
+friend, Watson, and you, and I will step round with the Inspector to
+test the truth of one or two little fancies of mine. I will be with you
+again in half an hour."</p>
+
+<p>An hour and a half had elapsed before the Inspector returned alone.</p>
+
+<p>"Mr. Holmes is walking up and down in the field outside," said he. "He
+wants us all four to go up to the house together."</p>
+
+<p>"To Mr. Cunningham's?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+
+<p>"What for?"</p>
+
+<p>The Inspector shrugged his shoulders. "I don't quite know, sir. Between
+ourselves, I think Mr. Holmes has not quite got over his illness yet.
+He's been behaving very queerly, and he is very much excited."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't think you need alarm yourself," said I. "I have usually found
+that there was method in his madness."</p>
+
+<p>"Some folk might say there was madness in his method," muttered the
+Inspector. "But he's all on fire to start, Colonel, so we had best go
+out, if you are ready."</p>
+
+<p>We found Holmes pacing up and down in the field, his chin sunk upon his
+breast, and his hands thrust into his trouser pockets.</p>
+
+<p>"The matter grows in interest," said he. "Watson, your country trip has
+been a distinct success. I have had a charming morning."</p>
+
+<p>"You have been up to the scene of the crime, I understand?" said the
+Colonel.</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; the Inspector and I have made quite a little reconnaissance
+together."</p>
+
+<p>"Any success?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, we have seen some very interesting things. I'll tell you what we
+did as we walk. First of all we saw the body of this unfortunate man. He
+certainly died from a revolver wound, as reported."</p>
+
+<p>"Had you doubted it, then?"</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, it is as well to test everything. Our inspection was not wasted. We
+then had an interview with Mr. Cunningham and his son, who were able to
+point out the exact spot where the murderer had broken through the
+garden hedge in his flight. That was of great interest."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_605" id="Page_605">[Pg 605]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Naturally."</p>
+
+<p>"Then we had a look at this poor fellow's mother. We could get no
+information from her, however, as she is very old and feeble."</p>
+
+<p>"And what is the result of your investigations?"</p>
+
+<p>"The conviction that the crime is a very peculiar one. Perhaps our visit
+now may do something to make it less obscure. I think that we are both
+agreed, Inspector, that the fragment of paper in the dead man's hand,
+bearing, as it does, the very hour of his death written upon it, is of
+extreme importance."</p>
+
+<p>"It should give a clue, Mr. Holmes."</p>
+
+<p>"It <i>does</i> give a clue. Whoever wrote that note was the man who brought
+William Kirwan out of his bed at that hour. But where is the rest of
+that sheet of paper?"</p>
+
+<p>"I examined the ground carefully in the hope of finding it," said the
+Inspector.</p>
+
+<p>"It was torn out of the dead man's hand. Why was someone so anxious to
+get possession of it? Because it incriminated him. And what would he do
+with it? Thrust it into his pocket most likely, never noticing that a
+corner of it had been left in the grip of the corpse. If we could get
+the rest of that sheet, it is obvious that we should have gone a long
+way towards solving the mystery."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, but how can we get at the criminal's pocket before we catch the
+criminal?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, well, it was worth thinking over. Then there is another obvious
+point. The note was sent to William. The man who wrote it could not have
+taken it, otherwise of course he might have delivered his own message by
+word of mouth. Who brought the note, then? Or did it come through the
+post?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have made inquiries," said the Inspector. "William received a letter
+by the afternoon post yesterday. The envelope was destroyed by him."</p>
+
+<p>"Excellent!" cried Holmes, clapping the Inspector on the back. "You've
+seen the postman. It is a pleasure to work with you. Well, here is the
+lodge, and if you will come up, Colonel, I will show you the scene of
+the crime."</p>
+
+<p>We passed the pretty cottage where the murdered man had lived, and
+walked up an oak-lined avenue to the fine old Queen Anne house, which
+bears the date of Malplaquet upon the lintel of the door. Holmes and the
+Inspector led us round it until we came to the side gate, which is
+separated by a stretch of garden from the hedge which lines the road. A
+constable was standing at the kitchen door.</p>
+
+<p>"Throw the door open, officer," said Holmes. "Now it was on those stairs
+that young Mr. Cunningham stood and saw the two men struggling just
+where we are. Old Mr. Cunningham was at that window&mdash;the second on the
+left&mdash;and he saw the fellow get away just to the left of that bush. So
+did the son. They are both sure of it, on account of the bush. Then
+Mister Alec ran out and knelt beside the wounded man. The ground is very
+hard, you see, and there are no marks to guide us."</p>
+
+<p>As he spoke two men came down the garden path, from round the angle of
+the house. The one was an elderly man, with a strong, deep-lined,
+heavy-eyed face; the other a dashing young fellow, whose bright, smiling
+expression and showy dress were in strange contrast with the business
+which had brought us there.</p>
+
+<p>"Still at it, then?" said he to Holmes. "I thought you Londoners were
+never at fault. You don't seem to be so very quick, after all."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah! you must give us a little time," said Holmes, good-humouredly.</p>
+
+<p>"You'll want it," said young Alec Cunningham. "Why, I don't see that we
+have any clue at all."</p>
+
+<p>"There's only one," answered the Inspector. "We thought that if we could
+only find&mdash;&mdash;Good heavens! Mr. Holmes, what is the matter?"</p>
+
+<p>My poor friend's face had suddenly assumed the most dreadful expression.
+His eyes rolled upwards, his features writhed in agony, and with a
+suppressed groan he dropped on his face upon the ground. Horrified at
+the suddenness and severity of the attack, we carried him into the
+kitchen, where he lay back in a large chair and breathed heavily for
+some minutes. Finally, with a shame-faced apology for his weakness, he
+rose once more.</p>
+
+<p>"Watson would tell you that I have only just recovered from a severe
+illness," he explained. "I am liable to these sudden nervous attacks."</p>
+
+<p>"Shall I send you home in my trap?" asked old Cunningham.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, since I am here, there is one point on which I should like to
+feel sure. We can very easily verify it."</p>
+
+<p>"What is it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, it seems to me that it is just possible that the arrival of this
+poor fellow William was not before but after the entrance of the burglar
+into the house. You appear to take it for granted that although the door
+was forced the robber never got in."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_606" id="Page_606">[Pg 606]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 320px;">
+<img src="images/image607.jpg" width="320" height="400" alt="&quot;GOOD HEAVENS! WHAT IS THE MATTER?&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;GOOD HEAVENS! WHAT IS THE MATTER?&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"I fancy that is quite obvious," said Mr. Cunningham, gravely. "Why, my
+son Alec had not yet gone to bed, and he would certainly have heard
+anyone moving about."</p>
+
+<p>"Where was he sitting?"</p>
+
+<p>"I was sitting smoking in my dressing-room."</p>
+
+<p>"Which window is that?"</p>
+
+<p>"The last on the left, next my father's."</p>
+
+<p>"Both your lamps were lit, of course?"</p>
+
+<p>"Undoubtedly."</p>
+
+<p>"There are some very singular points here," said Holmes, smiling. "Is it
+not extraordinary that a burglar&mdash;and a burglar who had had some
+previous experience&mdash;should deliberately break into a house at a time
+when he could see from the lights that two of the family were still
+afoot?"</p>
+
+<p>"He must have been a cool hand."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, of course, if the case were not an odd one we should not have
+been driven to ask you for an explanation," said Mister Alec. "But as to
+your idea that the man had robbed the house before William tackled him,
+I think it a most absurd notion. Shouldn't we have found the place
+disarranged and missed the things which he had taken?"</p>
+
+<p>"It depends on what the things were," said Holmes. "You must remember
+that we are dealing with a burglar who is a very peculiar fellow, and
+who appears to work on lines of his own. Look, for example, at the queer
+lot of things which he took from Acton's&mdash;what was it?&mdash;a ball of
+string, a letter-weight, and I don't know what other odds and ends!"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, we are quite in your hands, Mr. Holmes," said old Cunningham.
+"Anything which you or the Inspector may suggest will most certainly be
+done."</p>
+
+<p>"In the first place," said Holmes, "I should like you to offer a
+reward&mdash;coming from yourself, for the officials may take a little time
+before they would agree upon the sum, and these things cannot be done
+too promptly. I have jotted down the form here, if you would not mind
+signing it. Fifty pounds was quite enough, I thought."</p>
+
+<p>"I would willingly give five hundred," said the J.P., taking the slip of
+paper and the pencil which Holmes handed to him. "This is not quite
+correct, however," he added, glancing over the document.</p>
+
+<p>"I wrote it rather hurriedly."</p>
+
+<p>"You see you begin: 'Whereas, at about a quarter to one on Tuesday
+morning, an attempt was made'&mdash;and so on. It was at a quarter to twelve,
+as a matter of fact."</p>
+
+<p>I was pained at the mistake, for I knew how keenly Holmes would feel any
+slip of the kind. It was his speciality to be accurate as to fact, but
+his recent illness had shaken him, and this one little incident was
+enough to show me that he was still far from being himself. He was
+obviously embarrassed for an instant, while the Inspector raised his
+eyebrows and Alec Cunningham burst into a laugh. The old gentleman
+corrected the mistake, however, and handed the paper back to Holmes.</p>
+
+<p>"Get it printed as soon as possible," he said. "I think your idea is an
+excellent one."</p>
+
+<p>Holmes put the slip of paper carefully away in his pocket-book.</p>
+
+<p>"And now," said he, "it would really be a good thing that we should all
+go over the house together and make certain that this rather erratic
+burglar did not, after all, carry anything away with him."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_607" id="Page_607">[Pg 607]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Before entering. Holmes made an examination of the door which had been
+forced. It was evident that a chisel or strong knife had been thrust in,
+and the lock forced back with it. We could see the marks in the wood
+where it had been pushed in.</p>
+
+<p>"You don't use bars, then?" he asked.</p>
+
+<p>"We have never found it necessary."</p>
+
+<p>"You don't keep a dog?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes; but he is chained on the other side of the house."</p>
+
+<p>"When do the servants go to bed?"</p>
+
+<p>"About ten."</p>
+
+<p>"I understand that William was usually in bed also at that hour?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+
+<p>"It is singular that on this particular night he should have been up.
+Now, I should be very glad if you would have the kindness to show us
+over the house, Mr. Cunningham."</p>
+
+<p>A stone-flagged passage, with the kitchens branching away from it, led
+by a wooden staircase directly to the first floor of the house. It came
+out upon the landing opposite to a second more ornamental stair which
+led up from the front hall. Out of this landing opened the drawing-room
+and several bedrooms, including those of Mr. Cunningham and his son.
+Holmes walked slowly, taking keen note of the architecture of the house.
+I could tell from his expression that he was on a hot scent, and yet I
+could not in the least imagine in what direction his inferences were
+leading him.</p>
+
+<p>"My good sir," said Mr. Cunningham, with some impatience, "this is
+surely very unnecessary. That is my room at the end of the stairs, and
+my son's is the one beyond it. I leave it to your judgment whether it
+was possible for the thief to have come up here without disturbing us."</p>
+
+<p>"You must try round and get on a fresh scent, I fancy," said the son,
+with a rather malicious smile.</p>
+
+<p>"Still, I must ask you to humour me a little further. I should like, for
+example, to see how far the windows of the bedrooms command the front.
+This, I understand, is your son's room"&mdash;he pushed open the door&mdash;"and
+that, I presume, is the dressing-room in which he sat smoking when the
+alarm was given. Where does the window of that look out to?" He stepped
+across the bedroom, pushed open the door, and glanced round the other
+chamber.</p>
+
+<p>"I hope you are satisfied now?" said Mr. Cunningham, testily.</p>
+
+<p>"Thank you; I think I have seen all that I wished."</p>
+
+<p>"Then, if it is really necessary, we can go into my room."</p>
+
+<p>"If it is not too much trouble."</p>
+
+<p>The J.P. shrugged his shoulders, and led the way into his own chamber,
+which was a plainly furnished and commonplace room. As we moved across
+it in the direction of the window, Holmes fell back until he and I were
+the last of the group. Near the foot of the bed was a small square
+table, on which stood a dish of oranges and a carafe of water. As we
+passed it, Holmes, to my unutterable astonishment, leaned over in front
+of me and deliberately knocked the whole thing over. The glass smashed
+into a thousand pieces, and the fruit rolled about into every corner of
+the room.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 340px;">
+<img src="images/image608.jpg" width="340" height="400" alt="&quot;HE DELIBERATELY KNOCKED THE WHOLE THING OVER.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;HE DELIBERATELY KNOCKED THE WHOLE THING OVER.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"You've done it now, Watson," said he,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_608" id="Page_608">[Pg 608]</a></span> coolly. "A pretty mess you've
+made of the carpet."</p>
+
+<p>I stooped in some confusion and began to pick up the fruit,
+understanding that for some reason my companion desired me to take the
+blame upon myself. The others did the same, and set the table on its
+legs again.</p>
+
+<p>"Halloa!" cried the Inspector, "where's he got to?"</p>
+
+<p>Holmes had disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>"Wait here an instant," said young Alec Cunningham. "The fellow is off
+his head, in my opinion. Come with me, father, and see where he has got
+to!"</p>
+
+<p>They rushed out of the room, leaving the Inspector, the Colonel, and me
+staring at each other.</p>
+
+<p>"'Pon my word, I am inclined to agree with Mister Alec," said the
+official. "It may be the effect of this illness, but it seems to me
+that&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>His words were cut short by a sudden scream of "Help! Help! Murder!"
+With a thrill I recognised the voice as that of my friend. I rushed
+madly from the room on to the landing. The cries, which had sunk down
+into a hoarse, inarticulate shouting, came from the room which we had
+first visited. I dashed in, and on into the dressing-room beyond. The
+two Cunninghams were bending over the prostrate figure of Sherlock
+Holmes, the younger clutching his throat with both hands, while the
+elder seemed to be twisting one of his wrists. In an instant the three
+of us had torn them away from him, and Holmes staggered to his feet,
+very pale, and evidently greatly exhausted.</p>
+
+<p>"Arrest these men, Inspector," he gasped.</p>
+
+<p>"On what charge?"</p>
+
+<p>"That of murdering their coachman, William Kirwan!"</p>
+
+<p>The Inspector stared about him in bewilderment. "Oh, come now, Mr.
+Holmes," said he at last; "I am sure you don't really mean to&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Tut, man; look at their faces!" cried Holmes, curtly.</p>
+
+<p>Never, certainly, have I seen a plainer confession of guilt upon human
+countenances. The older man seemed numbed and dazed, with a heavy,
+sullen expression upon his strongly-marked face. The son, on the other
+hand, had dropped all that jaunty, dashing style which had characterized
+him, and the ferocity of a dangerous wild beast gleamed in his dark eyes
+and distorted his handsome features. The Inspector said nothing, but,
+stepping to the door, he blew his whistle. Two of his constables came at
+the call.</p>
+
+<p>"I have no alternative, Mr. Cunningham," said he. "I trust that this may
+all prove to be an absurd mistake; but you can see that&mdash;&mdash;Ah, would
+you? Drop it!" He struck out with his hand, and a revolver, which the
+younger man was in the act of cocking, clattered down upon the floor.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 337px;">
+<img src="images/image609.jpg" width="337" height="450" alt="&quot;BENDING OVER THE PROSTRATE FIGURE OF SHERLOCK HOLMES.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;BENDING OVER THE PROSTRATE FIGURE OF SHERLOCK HOLMES.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"Keep that," said Holmes, quickly putting his foot upon it. "You will
+find it useful at the trial. But this is what we really wanted." He held
+up a little crumpled piece of paper.</p>
+
+<p>"The remainder of the sheet!" cried the Inspector.</p>
+
+<p>"Precisely."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_609" id="Page_609">[Pg 609]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"And where was it?"</p>
+
+<p>"Where I was sure it must be. I'll make the whole matter clear to you
+presently. I think, Colonel, that you and Watson might return now, and I
+will be with you again in an hour at the furthest. The Inspector and I
+must have a word with the prisoners; but you will certainly see me back
+at luncheon time."</p>
+
+<p>Sherlock Holmes was as good as his word, for about one o'clock he
+rejoined us in the Colonel's smoking-room. He was accompanied by a
+little, elderly gentleman, who was introduced to me as the Mr. Acton
+whose house had been the scene of the original burglary.</p>
+
+<p>"I wished Mr. Acton to be present while I demonstrated this small matter
+to you," said Holmes, "for it is natural that he should take a keen
+interest in the details. I am afraid, my dear Colonel, that you must
+regret the hour that you took in such a stormy petrel as I am."</p>
+
+<p>"On the contrary," answered the Colonel, warmly, "I consider it the
+greatest privilege to have been permitted to study your methods of
+working. I confess that they quite surpass my expectations, and that I
+am utterly unable to account for your result. I have not yet seen the
+vestige of a clue."</p>
+
+<p>"I am afraid that my explanation may disillusionize you, but it has
+always been my habit to hide none of my methods, either from my friend
+Watson or from anyone who might take an intelligent interest in them.
+But first, as I am rather shaken by the knocking about which I had in
+the dressing-room, I think that I shall help myself to a dash of your
+brandy, Colonel. My strength has been rather tried of late."</p>
+
+<p>"I trust you had no more of those nervous attacks."</p>
+
+<p>Sherlock Holmes laughed heartily. "We will come to that in its turn,"
+said he. "I will lay an account of the case before you in its due order,
+showing you the various points which guided me in my decision. Pray
+interrupt me if there is any inference which is not perfectly clear to
+you.</p>
+
+<p>"It is of the highest importance in the art of detection to be able to
+recognise out of a number of facts which are incidental and which vital.
+Otherwise your energy and attention must be dissipated instead of being
+concentrated. Now, in this case there was not the slightest doubt in my
+mind from the first that the key of the whole matter must be looked for
+in the scrap of paper in the dead man's hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Before going into this I would draw your attention to the fact that if
+Alec Cunningham's narrative was correct, and if the assailant after
+shooting William Kirwan had <i>instantly</i> fled, then it obviously could
+not be he who tore the paper from the dead man's hand. But if it was not
+he, it must have been Alec Cunningham himself, for by the time that the
+old man had descended several servants were upon the scene. The point is
+a simple one, but the Inspector had overlooked it because he had started
+with the supposition that these county magnates had had nothing to do
+with the matter. Now, I make a point of never having any prejudices and
+of following docilely wherever fact may lead me, and so in the very
+first stage of the investigation I found myself looking a little askance
+at the part which had been played by Mr. Alec Cunningham.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 393px;">
+<img src="images/image610.jpg" width="393" height="400" alt="&quot;THE POINT IS A SIMPLE ONE.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;THE POINT IS A SIMPLE ONE.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_610" id="Page_610">[Pg 610]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"And now I made a very careful examination of the corner of paper which
+the Inspector had submitted to us. It was at once clear to me that it
+formed part of a very remarkable document. Here it is. Do you not now
+observe something very suggestive about it?"</p>
+
+<p>"It has a very irregular look," said the Colonel.</p>
+
+<p>"My dear sir," cried Holmes, "there cannot be the least doubt in the
+world that it has been written by two persons doing alternate words.
+When I draw your attention to the strong t's of 'at' and 'to' and ask
+you to compare them with the weak ones of 'quarter' and 'twelve,' you
+will instantly recognise the fact. A very brief analysis of those four
+words would enable you to say with the utmost confidence that the
+'learn' and the 'maybe' are written in the stronger hand, and the 'what'
+in the weaker."</p>
+
+<p>"By Jove, it's as clear as day!" cried the Colonel. "Why on earth should
+two men write a letter in such a fashion?"</p>
+
+<p>"Obviously the business was a bad one, and one of the men who distrusted
+the other was determined that, whatever was done, each should have an
+equal hand in it. Now, of the two men it is clear that the one who wrote
+the 'at' and 'to' was the ring-leader."</p>
+
+<p>"How do you get at that?"</p>
+
+<p>"We might deduce it from the mere character of the one hand as compared
+with the other. But we have more assured reasons than that for supposing
+it. If you examine this scrap with attention you will come to the
+conclusion that the man with the stronger hand wrote all his words
+first, leaving blanks for the other to fill up. These blanks were not
+always sufficient, and you can see that the second man had a squeeze to
+fit his 'quarter' in between the 'at' and the 'to,' showing that the
+latter were already written. The man who wrote all his words first is
+undoubtedly the man who planned this affair."</p>
+
+<p>"Excellent!" cried Mr. Acton.</p>
+
+<p>"But very superficial," said Holmes. "We come now, however, to a point
+which is of importance. You may not be aware that the deduction of a
+man's age from his writing is one which has been brought to considerable
+accuracy by experts. In normal cases one can place a man in his true
+decade with tolerable confidence. I say normal cases, because ill-health
+and physical weakness reproduce the signs of old age, even when the
+invalid is a youth. In this case, looking at the bold, strong hand of
+the one, and the rather broken-backed appearance of the other, which
+still retains its legibility, although the t's have begun to lose their
+crossings, we can say that the one was a young man, and the other was
+advanced in years without being positively decrepit."</p>
+
+<p>"Excellent!" cried Mr. Acton again.</p>
+
+<p>"There is a further point, however, which is subtler and of greater
+interest. There is something in common between these hands. They belong
+to men who are blood-relatives. It may be most obvious to you in the
+Greek e's, but to me there are many small points which indicate the same
+thing. I have no doubt at all that a family mannerism can be traced in
+these two specimens of writing. I am only, of course, giving you the
+leading results now of my examination of the paper. There were
+twenty-three other deductions which would be of more interest to experts
+than to you. They all tended to deepen the impression upon my mind that
+the Cunninghams, father and son, had written this letter.</p>
+
+<p>"Having got so far, my next step was, of course, to examine into the
+details of the crime and to see how far they would help us. I went up to
+the house with the Inspector, and saw all that was to be seen. The wound
+upon the dead man was, as I was able to determine with absolute
+confidence, fired from a revolver at the distance of something over four
+yards. There was no powder-blackening on the clothes. Evidently,
+therefore, Alec Cunningham had lied when he said that the two men were
+struggling when the shot was fired. Again, both father and son agreed as
+to the place where the man escaped into the road. At that point,
+however, as it happens, there is a broadish ditch, moist at the bottom.
+As there were no indications of boot-marks about this ditch, I was
+absolutely sure not only that the Cunninghams had again lied, but that
+there had never been any unknown man upon the scene at all.</p>
+
+<p>"And now I had to consider the motive of this singular crime. To get at
+this I endeavoured first of all to solve the reason of the original
+burglary at Mr. Acton's. I understood from something which the Colonel
+told us that a law-suit, had been going on between you, Mr. Acton, and
+the Cunninghams. Of course, it instantly occurred to me that they had
+broken into your library with the intention of getting at some document
+which might be of importance in the case."</p>
+
+<p>"Precisely so," said Mr. Acton; "there<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_611" id="Page_611">[Pg 611]</a></span> can be no possible doubt as to
+their intentions. I have the clearest claim upon half their present
+estate, and if they could have found a single paper&mdash;which, fortunately,
+was in the strong box of my solicitors&mdash;they would undoubtedly have
+crippled our case."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/image612.jpg" width="400" height="308" alt="&quot;THERE WAS NO POWDER-BLACKENING ON THE CLOTHES.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;THERE WAS NO POWDER-BLACKENING ON THE CLOTHES.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"There you are!" said Holmes, smiling. "It was a dangerous, reckless
+attempt in which I seem to trace the influence of young Alec. Having
+found nothing, they tried to divert suspicion by making it appear to be
+an ordinary burglary, to which end they carried off whatever they could
+lay their hands upon. That is all clear enough, but there was much that
+was still obscure. What I wanted above all was to get the missing part
+of that note. I was certain that Alec had torn it out of the dead man's
+hand, and almost certain that he must have thrust it into the pocket of
+his dressing-gown. Where else could he have put it? The only question
+was whether it was still there. It was worth an effort to find out, and
+for that object we all went up to the house.</p>
+
+<p>"The Cunninghams joined us, as you doubtless remember, outside the
+kitchen door. It was, of course, of the very first importance that they
+should not be reminded of the existence of this paper, otherwise they
+would naturally destroy it without delay. The Inspector was about to
+tell them the importance which we attached to it when, by the luckiest
+chance in the world, I tumbled down in a sort of fit and so changed the
+conversation."</p>
+
+<p>"Good heavens!" cried the Colonel, laughing. "Do you mean to say all our
+sympathy was wasted and your fit an imposture?"</p>
+
+<p>"Speaking professionally, it was admirably done," cried I, looking in
+amazement at this man who was for ever confounding me with some new
+phase of his astuteness.</p>
+
+<p>"It is an art which is often useful," said he. "When I recovered I
+managed by a device, which had, perhaps, some little merit of ingenuity,
+to get old Cunningham to write the word 'twelve,' so that I might
+compare it with the 'twelve' upon the paper."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, what an ass I have been!" I exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p>"I could see that you were commiserating with me over my weakness," said
+Holmes, laughing. "I was sorry to cause you the sympathetic pain which I
+know that you felt. We then went upstairs together, and having entered
+the room and seen the dressing-gown hanging up behind the door, I
+contrived by upsetting a table to engage their attention for the moment
+and slipped back to examine the pockets. I had hardly got the paper,
+however, which was, as I had expected, in one of them, when the two
+Cunninghams were on me, and would, I verily believe, have murdered me
+then and there but for your prompt and friendly aid. As it is, I feel
+that young man's grip on my throat now, and the father has twisted my
+wrist round in the effort to get the paper out of my hand. They saw that
+I must know all about it, you see, and the sudden change from absolute
+security to complete despair made them perfectly desperate.</p>
+
+<p>"I had a little talk with old Cunningham afterwards as to the motive of
+the crime. He was tractable enough, though his son was a perfect demon,
+ready to blow out his own or anybody else's brains if he could have got
+to his revolver. When Cunningham saw that the case against him was so
+strong he lost all heart, and made a clean breast of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_612" id="Page_612">[Pg 612]</a></span> everything. It
+seems that William had secretly followed his two masters on the night
+when they made their raid upon Mr. Acton's, and, having thus got them
+into his power, proceeded under threats of exposure to levy blackmail
+upon them. Mister Alec, however, was a dangerous man to play games of
+that sort with. It was a stroke of positive genius on his part to see in
+the burglary scare, which was convulsing the country side, an
+opportunity of plausibly getting rid of the man whom he feared. William
+was decoyed up and shot; and, had they only got the whole of the note,
+and paid a little more attention to detail in their accessories, it is
+very possible that suspicion might never have been aroused."</p>
+
+<p>"And the note?" I asked.</p>
+
+<p>Sherlock Holmes placed the subjoined paper before us:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<img src="images/image613.jpg" width="600" height="321" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p>"It is very much the sort of thing that I expected," said he. "Of
+course, we do not yet know what the relations may have been between Alec
+Cunningham, William Kirwan, and Annie Morrison. The result shows that
+the trap was skilfully baited. I am sure that you cannot fail to be
+delighted with the traces of heredity shown in the p's and in the tails
+of the g's. The absence of the i-dots in the old man's writing is also
+most characteristic. Watson, I think our quiet rest in the country has
+been a distinct success, and I shall certainly return, much invigorated,
+to Baker Street to-morrow."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_613" id="Page_613">[Pg 613]</a></span></p>
+<h2><i>Beauties.</i></h2>
+
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 685px;">
+<img src="images/image614.jpg" width="685" height="1000" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_614" id="Page_614">[Pg 614]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 637px;">
+<img src="images/image615.jpg" width="637" height="1000" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_615" id="Page_615">[Pg 615]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 652px;">
+<img src="images/image616.jpg" width="652" height="1000" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<img src="images/image617.jpg" width="600" height="449" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_616" id="Page_616">[Pg 616]</a></span></p>
+<h3><span class="smcap">From the French of Jos&eacute; de Campos. An Episode of the Crimean War.
+Approved and Authorized by General Saussier, Military Commander of
+Paris.</span></h3>
+
+<p>Nicolas Gauthier, Sergeant-Major in the Foreign Legion, was about
+twenty-six years of age. He was strikingly handsome, with black hair and
+moustache and a pale complexion. His dark eyes were perhaps somewhat
+dreamy and intensely sad, but they had a certain expression of
+gentleness and candour which won all hearts.</p>
+
+<p>He was above the medium height, upright and broad-shouldered, and was
+altogether more fitted for a cuirassier than for a foot-soldier. As,
+however, he had entered the army from choice, it was for him to select
+the arms he preferred.</p>
+
+<p>He had undoubtedly military tastes, but he had evidently some family
+trouble or some love affair which had made him anxious to leave Paris
+and to go to Africa with the Foreign Legion (which, as everyone knows,
+is always the first regiment to be called out in case of war).</p>
+
+<p>He had been in the garrison at Constantine, and while there had been a
+great favourite with all the ladies, and the men had envied him.</p>
+
+<p>It could scarcely be wondered at, for he was so handsome, and then, too,
+he had such a martial bearing and such pleasant, attractive manners.</p>
+
+<p>All the sensation he caused was lost upon him, for he did not even seem
+to notice it himself.</p>
+
+<p>He was a good soldier: subordinate to his superiors, and always
+indulgent to the men under his command, and, consequently, a great
+favourite in the Legion.</p>
+
+<p>When Napoleon III. was reviewing the troops, he noticed Gauthier, who
+was at that time only a sub-officer. He made inquiries about him, and a
+fortnight later Gauthier was appointed sergeant-major.</p>
+
+<p>It was evident that some great sorrow was weighing on him, for when he
+was free from his military duties, instead of going out with his
+comrades to any places of amusement, he would go off by himself for
+long, solitary walks.</p>
+
+<p>Several times, on seeing him strolling along far from the walls of the
+city, the other officers had warned him of the risk he ran of being
+surprised by one of those bands of Arabs who wander about outside the
+Algerian cities,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_617" id="Page_617">[Pg 617]</a></span> and who take their revenge on any European who falls
+into their hands for the yoke that has been put on to them.</p>
+
+<p>Sergeant Gauthier took very little notice of these warnings. He loved
+solitude and was perfectly fearless. No one knew why he was so sad.
+Certainly he had lately lost his mother, and still wore a badge of crape
+on his arm. Of course, this had increased his melancholy, but it was not
+the original cause of it.</p>
+
+<p>The war with Russia had just been declared. Gauthier, like a great many
+other officers and sub-officers, was tired of the monotony of garrison
+life, and volunteered to join the regiments which were to be sent to the
+Crimea. The Minister of War dispatched the Foreign Legion, to the great
+joy of Gauthier. His brother officers noticed that he was almost gay,
+not at all like his former self.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>He soon distinguished himself; was always foremost in the fight. His
+courage and <i>sang-froid</i> won the admiration of all. He was wounded, but
+he cared little for that; and shortly after he was promoted to the rank
+of sub-lieutenant.</p>
+
+<p>Gauthier was very intimate with Lieutenant Saussier, another hero who
+had gone through the "baptism of fire" in Africa, and whose great valour
+and integrity have won for him the high office he now holds.</p>
+
+<p>These two soldiers were of the same metal: they were able to understand
+and appreciate each other, and were almost inseparable.</p>
+
+<p>One day during the siege of Sebastopol, Lieutenant Saussier said to his
+friend:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Gauthier, may I ask you a question?"</p>
+
+<p>"Two questions, if you like."</p>
+
+<p>"You won't think it mere curiosity?"</p>
+
+<p>"Are we not friends, Saussier?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, but perhaps this is a secret&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I have only one secret in the world, and as you do not know <i>that</i> and
+could not even have an idea of it, there is no fear, so you can speak
+out."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, will you tell me what is the cause of your sadness, I might
+almost say bitterness? When we left Africa I thought you had left it
+behind you; but now in Russia it is worse than ever."</p>
+
+<p>At this unexpected question Gauthier started, then trying to smile he
+answered:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"It must be a kind of complaint born in me, and perhaps the change of
+climate aggravates it."</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps so," said Lieutenant Saussier, slowly, and watching the
+expression of his friend's face.</p>
+
+<p>"This cold goes right through me to my very bones," said Gauthier,
+shivering.</p>
+
+<p>Saussier quite understood that his friend meant, "Let us change the
+subject," but he continued:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"May I ask you another question?"</p>
+
+<p>"You seem to have a few to ask to-day," said Gauthier, looking rather
+annoyed.</p>
+
+<p>"I have often wanted to speak to you, but have never dared before."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, to-day you don't seem afraid of running the risk."</p>
+
+<p>"If it vexes you, don't answer me."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, I don't mind. I have had one; I may as well have the next."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, will you tell me why, every time there is an engagement, you take
+such pains to find out the name of the chief who commands the enemy?"</p>
+
+<p>This time Gauthier was visibly annoyed. He answered, after a few
+minutes' hesitation, "Because some day I intend writing the history of
+the Crimean War. It is only natural I should want to know the names of
+the commanders on the other side."</p>
+
+<p>"Oh! of course," said Saussier, feeling rather disconcerted.</p>
+
+<p>For some minutes the two friends continued their walk in silence. There
+was no sound but the crunching of the snow under their heavy boots, for
+it had been snowing hard in the district of Simferopol, and a thick
+white mantle covered the ground.</p>
+
+<p>Lieutenant Saussier looked at Gauthier, and in spite of his friend's
+attempt to turn away his head, Saussier saw that there were tears in his
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"Forgive me for asking you!" he exclaimed. "I had no idea of causing you
+pain."</p>
+
+<p>"How do you know you have?" asked Gauthier, passing his arm through that
+of his friend.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't try and hide it. I can see that, quite unintentional as it was, I
+have pained you with my questions."</p>
+
+<p>"It is nothing, nothing at all; or rather your questions brought to mind
+something in my past life. It is only natural that you should have asked
+me, and as a proof of my friendship I will tell you all."</p>
+
+<p>"No, no! Indeed I do not want you to. We will not talk about it. I am
+awfully sorry to have spoken of it."</p>
+
+<p>"After all, you are my greatest friend. Why should I not tell you about
+it? Perhaps, too, it might relieve me to speak of my trouble."</p>
+
+<p>"If it will be any relief to you, tell me;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_618" id="Page_618">[Pg 618]</a></span> but if not, why, do not let
+us say any more about it."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 337px;">
+<img src="images/image619.jpg" width="337" height="400" alt="YOU ARE MY GREATEST FRIEND." title="" />
+<span class="caption">YOU ARE MY GREATEST FRIEND.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"I would rather tell you. Life is very uncertain on the battlefield, and
+I would rather not die with this secret untold. Perhaps, too, if you
+knew it you might be able to help me."</p>
+
+<p>"If I could help you in any way, you know you have only to tell me how."</p>
+
+<p>"Well, you shall hear all. You know that, before leaving Algeria, I went
+to Paris with a three months' leave."</p>
+
+<p>"Which you never stayed out, for you were back again in six weeks."</p>
+
+<p>"What could I do with myself in that Babylon, where everyone was gay
+while I was so wretched? How could I stand the sardonic laughter and
+gaiety around me when my heart was aching bitterly? As soon as my poor
+mother was buried I was only too anxious to get from that city of
+luxury, where the artificial lights only blinded and dazzled me.</p>
+
+<p>"I wanted to get away from the noise and the vice and the hypocrisy, and
+go to the desert and be alone with Nature and with reality, where I
+could breathe pure, wholesome air, and not that atmosphere which
+bewilders and poisons you. I left what we <i>call</i> the civilized world to
+go to the savages whom I prefer.</p>
+
+<p>"I gave up society for solitude, peace for war. I despise my life and
+long for death, but death does not come at my call."</p>
+
+<p>Gauthier stopped for a minute, overcome with emotion.</p>
+
+<p>"You are too sensitive," said Saussier.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps so, but I have had something to bear."</p>
+
+<p>"Is it a love affair, Gauthier?"</p>
+
+<p>"No, no! I have never loved anyone, and besides, I am one of those who
+must not, who dare not love&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"I do not understand."</p>
+
+<p>"No, I will explain. My mother, who was dying of consumption, brought on
+by some great grief that she had always suffered alone, sent for me to
+bid me farewell. Three days before her death I was at her bedside.</p>
+
+<p>"'My son,' she said, 'I have sent for you to tell you something which I
+feel you ought to know before my death. I have always led you to believe
+that your father was dead.'</p>
+
+<p>"'And he is not dead. I have felt sure of that for a long time.'</p>
+
+<p>"'How could you nave guessed it?' exclaimed my mother.</p>
+
+<p>"'By your sadness, and, too, because you have never taken me to his
+grave, nor even spoken of it. My poor mother, did he leave you?'</p>
+
+<p>"'No, no! Do not blame him; it was not his fault that he had to leave
+us.'</p>
+
+<p>"'He is in prison, then; but surely he is innocent?'</p>
+
+<p>"'No, he is quite free.'</p>
+
+<p>"'How is it, then&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"'Listen, but do not interrupt me, for I have not strength for much. The
+name you have, Gauthier, was my father's and mine, but not your
+father's, Nicolas. My father<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_619" id="Page_619">[Pg 619]</a></span> was a wealthy shipbuilder at Havre. He
+died in 1825. My mother sold everything, and then she and I went to
+Paris to live.</p>
+
+<p>"'She was ambitious for me and wished me to marry well. We had plenty of
+money, and as that opens most doors she managed to get introductions and
+invitations to her heart's content.</p>
+
+<p>"'I was nineteen, and people said I was beautiful. My mother paid great
+attention to my toilette, and by mixing in society I soon lost all
+traces of having been brought up in the provinces. There was a young
+Russian captain, Prince Nicola&iuml; Porthikopoff, whom I used to meet at
+different houses. He belonged to the Czar's Imperial Guard, and was an
+<i>attach&eacute;</i> of the Russian Embassy in Paris.</p>
+
+<p>"'He was very handsome, and was as noble at heart as he was by birth.</p>
+
+<p>"He loved me, and I returned his affection. At the end of six months he
+came to my mother and asked for my hand. Our engagement caused a great
+stir in Paris, it scandalized the aristocracy and caused jealousy in our
+own circle. Prince Nicola&iuml; cared nothing for the storm that he had
+roused.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 408px;">
+<img src="images/image620.jpg" width="408" height="400" alt="&quot;HE CAME TO MY MOTHER AND ASKED FOR MY HAND.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;HE CAME TO MY MOTHER AND ASKED FOR MY HAND.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"'There was so much gossip, and there was so much scheming to break off
+our engagement, that the Ambassador himself felt it his duty to inform
+the Czar. It appears the Czar only laughed at it all until the Princess
+Porthikopoff, your father's mother, wrote herself asking for his
+intervention, and declaring that she would never give her consent to our
+union. The Czar wrote a letter of advice to the Prince, but as it took
+no effect, and the Princess still insisted, the Czar objected formally
+to the marriage. Your father saw that it was hopeless, that there was no
+chance whatever of winning the consent of his mother or of his
+Sovereign. He proposed to me a desperate expedient, and I, young and
+inexperienced as I was, and believing that it would be for our mutual
+happiness, consented.</p>
+
+<p>"'We were to be married privately, but, as your father told me, the
+marriage would not be legal, as we could not have the necessary papers,
+and should even have to be married under assumed names, and in another
+country. He believed that then, when his mother saw that the honour of a
+Porthikopoff was at stake, she would take steps to have the ceremony
+performed again with the necessary formalities. He thought that she
+would do for the honour and pride of her family what she would not do
+for love of her son.</p>
+
+<p>"'I consented to everything; but, alas! a month later, seeing that your
+father continued to brave all authority, the Czar recalled him to St.
+Petersburg.</p>
+
+<p>"'Your father pleaded our cause but in vain! Nicholas I., proud autocrat
+as he was, and the Princess were both inexorable. Your father was
+exasperated, and he gave vent to his indignation. The result was that he
+was ordered to start the next day for Irkoutsk, in Siberia<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_620" id="Page_620">[Pg 620]</a></span> He was to be
+exiled! Exiled because he had loved me, because he wished to do his duty
+and make me his lawful wife! My mother and I went away to Lille, where
+you were born.</p>
+
+<p>"'The Prince, your father, was not allowed to write or receive letters
+without sending them first to the Governor to be read and approved. I
+happened to meet with someone who was going to Irkoutsk, and begged him
+to take a message to your father and to tell him of your birth. When
+this man returned he brought me a letter from your father, in which he
+said he was going to try and make his escape, and that he would never
+again set foot in Russia.</p>
+
+<p>"'Just at this time my mother died. Your father was not able to put his
+plan into execution, and a year later he was allowed to write to me, but
+merely to tell me the conditions on which Nicholas I. offered to allow
+his return from exile. The Czar had chosen a wife for him, and he was to
+renounce me for ever. Your father added that he was refusing such terms;
+that he would never break his vow to me, and preferred exile to what was
+offered him.</p>
+
+<p>"'He was right!' I exclaimed, proudly, for I was glad to find that I had
+no cause to blush for my father.</p>
+
+<p>"'It was noble of him!' said my mother, and her eyes filled with tears.
+'It was noble, but how could I accept such a sacrifice? I could not; it
+would have been too selfish. There was only one thing to do, and
+although in doing it I had to sacrifice all my womanly pride, my courage
+held out. I wrote to your father, telling him to accept the Czar's
+offer, as I myself was about to marry.'</p>
+
+<p>"'It was not true?'</p>
+
+<p>"'No! No! It was to save him. I wanted him to be free, to be happy if
+possible. As for me, all was over. He wrote to me, reproaching me, and
+it broke my heart. I did not reply to his letter. I went back to Paris,
+where I lived quietly and unknown, devoting myself entirely to you....
+Six months later I heard that he had married a Princess according to the
+will of the Czar, and that he was appointed captain.'</p>
+
+<p>"'Is he happy?'</p>
+
+<p>"'I have never heard another word about him, and as he has no idea of my
+whereabouts, he could never have made inquiries about me. Now you know
+all, you know the cause of my sadness and the secret of your birth. You
+must now judge between your father and your mother, and either pardon or
+condemn us, for, alas! my poor boy, you have no name and no future.'</p>
+
+<p>"My poor mother hid her face in her hands and sobbed in an agony of
+grief.</p>
+
+<p>"'I have nothing to forgive, mother; but if you wish me to judge my
+father and you, I can only say that you both did your duty and that your
+sacrifice was sublime. Society makes laws at its own pleasure, but in
+the sight of God, who surely is over all, your marriage was valid, and I
+have nothing to be ashamed of. On the contrary, you were both victims,
+and you suffered through your loyalty to each other&mdash;and your love was
+surely truer and more ideal than many which society recognises.'</p>
+
+<p>"My poor mother could not speak for some time, her emotion was so great.
+Later on she told me where I should find some papers, which I was to
+read after her death, and she added:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"'You will also find in the same drawer two things by which your father
+would always recognise you, if you should ever meet him and if you
+wished to make yourself known. I leave it entirely to you to act as you
+think best; but if you ever should see him, tell him that I was true to
+him, explain all, and tell him that I loved him to the last.'</p>
+
+<p>"Two days later my poor mother passed away. I was thus left an orphan
+and nameless. I was utterly alone in the world. I had not a creature to
+love me, and I knew that I must never dare to love anyone. Left to
+myself, I cursed the whole world and its prejudices and baseness."</p>
+
+<p>Gauthier covered his face with his hand, and Saussier, respecting his
+friend's grief, did not speak for some time. The two officers walked on
+through the snow without noticing where they were going.</p>
+
+<p>Suddenly Gauthier said, bitterly: "You understand now the cause of the
+melancholy that is always weighing on me?"</p>
+
+<p>"I do, indeed," replied Saussier.</p>
+
+<p>"The tortures of the Inquisition are nothing to what I endure, when I
+think of my poor mother suffering through all those years without a word
+of consolation from any living soul."</p>
+
+<p>"It must have been terrible!"</p>
+
+<p>"Then, too, you know now why I always find out the name of the Russian
+commander before every attack; for by now he must be at least a
+General."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, it is indeed fearful!"</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>Sebastopol had been besieged ever since October 9th, 1854. Marshal
+Canrobert commanded the troops with Lord Raglan.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_621" id="Page_621">[Pg 621]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 352px;">
+<img src="images/image622.jpg" width="352" height="400" alt="&quot;TELL HIM THAT I LOVED HIM TO THE LAST.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;TELL HIM THAT I LOVED HIM TO THE LAST.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Prince Mentschiskoff and Prince Todleben resisted the attack bravely.</p>
+
+<p>The sight of the city, which was all in ruins, exasperated the Russian
+Commander-in-Chief, and he ordered a sally, but the French and the
+English were well on guard and repulsed this desperate attempt.</p>
+
+<p>The attack was terrible, and the heroism on every side sublime.</p>
+
+<p>The most warlike of the besieged troops rushed against the French,
+preferring to have to do with the <i>furia francesca</i> rather than with the
+British deliberation and <i>sang-froid</i>. The combat was sustained and
+desperate.</p>
+
+<p>Profiting by the confusion amongst the French troops, caused by the
+death of their Commander-in-Chief, the Russians succeeded in obtaining
+the first trench. The besiegers, however, got reinforcements and the
+struggle was continued.</p>
+
+<p>Two young officers, who were fighting side by side, attracted everyone's
+notice. They were in the first rank, and they led their soldiers into
+the thickest of the fray and cut down the enemy right and left.</p>
+
+<p>One of them was rather in advance of the other, and was encouraging his
+soldiers to follow him. Suddenly with his pistol he took aim at a
+Russian commander, who, on seeing that the enemy was gaining ground, had
+spurred his horse forward and was calling to his soldiers to advance.
+Another horseman, seeing the danger his chief was in, rushed before him,
+exclaiming:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"Take care, General Porthikopoff!"</p>
+
+<p>On hearing this the French officer dropped his murderous weapon and
+stood as if paralyzed, looking at his enemy.</p>
+
+<p>On receiving the warning the Prince had drawn out his pistol and fired
+at the French officer. The ball struck him, and he fell. His friend, who
+had just reached him, and who had also heard the Russian General's name,
+drew his men to the right where the enemy was strongest, exclaiming, in
+desperation: "Follow me! Follow me!"</p>
+
+<p>The Russian soldiers rushed at the young officer, who had fallen, and
+would have killed him, but, waving them off, he said he must speak with
+their General before he died.</p>
+
+<p>The Prince, astonished at the request at such a moment, consented.</p>
+
+<p>"What is it you have to say, and why did you not attempt to shoot me?"</p>
+
+<p>"I could not."</p>
+
+<p>"But what prevented you?"</p>
+
+<p>"Duty."</p>
+
+<p>"I do not understand."</p>
+
+<p>The young officer drew from his tunic a letter, a locket, and a small
+box, and handed them to the General.</p>
+
+<p>"What is the meaning of this?" exclaimed the Prince.</p>
+
+<p>"Look inside the locket."</p>
+
+<p>The Prince opened it and started. "My portrait and Madeline's!" Then,
+opening the box: "And her engagement ring! Where did you get these
+from?"</p>
+
+<p>"The letter will explain all."</p>
+
+<p>The Prince opened it, and, after glancing at it quickly, said: "And you
+are&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Nicolas Gauthier."</p>
+
+<p>"And your mother?"</p>
+
+<p>"She is dead. Her love for you killed her."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_622" id="Page_622">[Pg 622]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"That is not true, for she married another."</p>
+
+<p>"Never! She loved you to the last, and died with your name on her lips.
+Read the letter to the end."</p>
+
+<p>Mechanically the General read the letter, and then kissing the locket
+passionately: "I knew, I felt that Madeline was true!" he said, and then
+bending over Gauthier, he continued: "How did you recognise me, though?"</p>
+
+<p>"I heard them call you by your name."</p>
+
+<p>"That was why you would not fire?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes. A son could not kill his father, even though he be his enemy."</p>
+
+<p>"But you allowed a father to kill his son?"</p>
+
+<p>"I could not help it. It was fate."</p>
+
+<p>"No, no, my son! You shall not die! You <i>must</i> live!"</p>
+
+<p>"God wills otherwise, father. Farewell! I have only seen you for a
+minute, but I am satisfied."</p>
+
+<p>Gauthier made a great effort to get up, smiled at the Prince, and then
+fell back dead.</p>
+
+<p>"My boy, my boy!" exclaimed the Prince, in desperation, stooping over
+the dead body of his son. "Dead, dead, and killed by me, his father! And
+this is the work of our Czar! Oh, cruel fate!"</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 278px;">
+<img src="images/image623.jpg" width="278" height="450" alt="&quot;THE GENERAL REMAINED KNEELING BY THE SIDE OF HIS SON.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;THE GENERAL REMAINED KNEELING BY THE SIDE OF HIS SON.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>The General remained some minutes kneeling by the side of his son in
+mute despair, and then for the last time he sprang on to his horse and
+rushed into the thickest of the fray.</p>
+
+<p>"Prince! Prince! what are you doing there?" exclaimed a French officer
+at his side.</p>
+
+<p>"I am seeking death! I have killed my son, and I will not survive
+him&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>He had scarcely finished when a ball struck him and he fell down dead.</p>
+
+<p>"Who can say there is no Providence! The father has not waited long to
+join his son," exclaimed the French officer, as he rushed on at the head
+of his men.</p>
+
+<p>For some time the result of the combat seemed uncertain, but at last the
+French won the day, and the Russians had to take refuge in Sebastopol.</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>When Marshal Canrobert went over the battlefield, he asked where the
+young officer was who belonged to the Foreign Legion, and who had fought
+so bravely.</p>
+
+<p>"He fell by the retrenchments," was the reply.</p>
+
+<p>The Commander-in-Chief rode over to the spot named and ordered the
+surgeon to examine the young officer who was lying on the ground. It
+was, however, too late.</p>
+
+<p>"There was another officer of the same Legion whom I saw fall there, to
+the left," said the Marshal.</p>
+
+<p>The young officer was brought and was told that his friend was dead.</p>
+
+<p>"It is a pity," he said to the Marshal, "for you have lost a true
+soldier."</p>
+
+<p>"What was his name?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nicolas Gauthier."</p>
+
+<p>"And yours?"</p>
+
+<p>"F&eacute;lix Saussier."</p>
+
+<p>The Commander-in-Chief ordered the army<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_623" id="Page_623">[Pg 623]</a></span> to fall into rank, and then as
+they presented arms he took the Cross of the Legion of Honour which he
+was wearing himself and placed it on Lieutenant Saussier's breast.</p>
+
+<p>"Wear it proudly," he said; "it is the recompense that France accords to
+her bravest sons, and you well deserve it."</p>
+
+<p>Then taking another Cross from one of the officers who belonged to the
+&Eacute;tat Major, he placed it on the body of Gauthier. "You, too, have well
+earned it," he said, "and shall take it with you to your grave."</p>
+
+<p>The troops filed off, after passing in front of the two officers, the
+one wounded and the other dead. Marshal Canrobert himself raised his
+sword and saluted the two heroes (the one, alas! had died too soon, and
+the other was destined to become one of the bravest Generals of France),
+and then passed on deeply moved, but satisfied with the victory, and
+ignorant of the drama which had taken place so near to him.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/image624.jpg" width="400" height="345" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_624" id="Page_624">[Pg 624]</a></span></p>
+<h2><i>From Behind the Speaker's Chair.</i></h2>
+
+<h3>VI.</h3>
+
+<h3>(VIEWED BY HENRY W. LUCY.)</h3>
+
+
+<div class="sidenote">SIR WILLIAM HARCOURT.</div>
+
+<p>Sir William Harcourt has been so long a familiar figure in the House of
+Commons, and has established so high a reputation, that it seems odd to
+speak of him as one of the successes of the new Session. But the phrase
+accurately describes his position. Circumstances connected with the
+personality of the Premier have given him opportunity to show what
+potentialities as Leader of the House modestly lurk behind his massive
+figure, and the result has been eminently satisfactory to his party and
+his friends. Sir William's early reputation was made as a brilliant
+swordsman of debate, most effective in attack. The very qualities that
+go to make success in that direction might lead to utter failure on the
+part of a Leader of the House.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 227px;">
+<img src="images/image625-1.jpg" width="227" height="250" alt="&quot;MODESTLY LURKING.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;MODESTLY LURKING.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>If one sought for a word that would describe the leading characteristics
+of Sir William Harcourt in Parliament it would be found in the style
+aggressive. Perhaps the most fatal thing a Leader of the House of
+Commons could do would be to develop aggressiveness. The Leader must be
+a strong man&mdash;should be the strongest man on his side of the House. But
+his strength must be kept in reserve, and if he err on either side of
+this particular line, submissiveness should be his characteristic. The
+possession of this quality was the foundation of Mr. W. H. Smith's
+remarkable success as Leader. It is true he could not, had he tried,
+have varied his deferential attitude towards the House by one of sterner
+mould, and the House enjoys the situation more keenly if that
+alternative be existent. It took Mr. Smith as he was, and the two got on
+marvellously well together.</p>
+
+<p>Nothing known of Sir William Harcourt's Parliamentary manner forbade the
+apprehension that, occupying the box-seat, there would be incessant
+cracking of the whip. It was difficult in advance to imagine how he
+would be able to resist the opportunity of letting the lash fall on the
+back of a restive or a stubborn horse. The opportunity of saying a smart
+thing, at whatever cost, seemed with him irresistible. If only he had
+his jest they might have his estate; in this case the estate of his
+party.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 259px;">
+<img src="images/image625-2.jpg" width="259" height="350" alt="&quot;AGGRESSIVE.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;AGGRESSIVE.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Reflection on an earlier experience of Sir William in the seat of the
+Leader might have caused these forebodings to cease. Four<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_625" id="Page_625">[Pg 625]</a></span> years ago,
+towards the close of the Session of 1889, the temporary withdrawal of
+Mr. Gladstone from the scene gave him his chance. It happened that the
+Government under the leadership of Mr. Smith, and, it was understood,
+on the personal instruction of Lord Salisbury, were pressing forward
+the Tithes Bill. They had an overwhelming, well-disciplined majority, and
+being pledged up to the hilt to carry the Bill, the issue seemed certain.
+Through a whole week Sir William led the numerically-overpowered
+Opposition, fighting the Bill at every step. The hampered Government
+were determined to get some sort of Bill passed, and, hopeless of
+achieving their earliest intention, foreshadowed another measure in a
+series of amendments laid on the table by the Attorney-General. The
+Opposition were not disposed to accept this with greater fervour than
+the other, and finally Mr. Smith announced a total withdrawal from the
+position.</p>
+
+<p>Nothing was finer throughout the brilliant campaign than Sir William
+Harcourt's lamentations over this conclusion. Having inflicted on a
+strong Government the humiliation of defeat upon a cherished measure,
+he, in a voice broken with emotion, held poor W. H. Smith up to the
+scorn of all good men as a heartless, depraved parent, who had abandoned
+by the wayside a promising infant.</p>
+
+<p>In the present Session Sir William, as Deputy Leader, finds himself in a
+position different from, and more difficult than, the one filled in
+August, 1889. He was then in the place of the Leader of the Opposition,
+and had a natural affinity for the duty of opposing. In the present
+Session he has been frequently and continuously called upon to perform
+the duties of Leader of the House, and his success, though not so
+brilliantly striking as in the short, sharp campaign against the Tithes
+Bill, has stood upon a broader and more permanent basis. The House of
+Commons, as Mr. Goschen learned during the experiments in Leadership
+which preceded his disappearance from the front rank, may be led, but
+cannot be driven.</p>
+
+<p>It is curious that two of the most aggressive controversialists in the
+House, being temporarily called to the Leadership, have shown themselves
+profoundly impressed with this truth. Like Lord Randolph Churchill, when
+he led the House, Sir William Harcourt appears on the Treasury Bench
+divested even of his side-arms. Like the Happy Warrior, his helmet is a
+hive for bees. His patience in time of trial has been pathetic, and,
+whatever may be his own feelings on the subject, the House has been
+amazed at his moderation. He has sat silent on the Treasury Bench by the
+hour, with Mr. Arthur Balfour, Mr. Chamberlain, Lord Randolph Churchill,
+and other old familiar adversaries, trailing tempting coat-tails before
+him.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 340px;">
+<img src="images/image626.jpg" width="340" height="400" alt="&quot;THE HAPPY WARRIOR.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;THE HAPPY WARRIOR.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>One night this Session, in debate on Uganda, Mr. Chamberlain interposed
+and delivered a brilliant, bitter speech, which deeply stirred a crowded
+House. It was drawing to the close of an important debate, and Mr.
+Chamberlain sat down at half-past eleven, leaving plenty of time for the
+Leader of the House to reply. To an old Parliamentary war-house the
+situation must have been sorely tempting. A party like to be sent off
+into the division lobby with a rattling speech from the Front Bench.
+There was ample time for a brisk twenty minutes' canter, and the crowded
+and excited sport. But there was nothing at stake on the division.
+Though Mr. Chamberlain could not withstand the opportunity of
+belabouring his old friends and colleagues, he did not intend to oppose
+the vote for Uganda, which would receive the hearty support of the
+Conservatives.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_626" id="Page_626">[Pg 626]</a></span> Half an hour saved from speech-making would mean thirty
+minutes appropriated to getting forward with other votes in Committee of
+Supply. Sir William followed Mr. Chamberlain, and was welcomed with a
+ringing cheer; members settling themselves down in anticipated enjoyment
+of a rattling speech. When the applause subsided the Chancellor of the
+Exchequer contented himself with the observation that there had been a
+useful debate, the Committee had heard some excellent speeches, "and now
+let us get the vote."</p>
+
+<p>There was something touching in the depressed attitude of the right hon.
+gentleman as he performed this act of renunciation. What it cost him
+will, probably, never be known. But before progress was reported at
+midnight half-a-dozen votes had been taken.</p>
+
+<div class="sidenote">THE WHIPS.</div>
+
+<p>Of the various forms ambition takes in political life the most
+inscrutable is that which leads a man to the Whip's room. In
+Parliamentary affairs the Whip fills a place analogous to that of a
+sub-editor on a newspaper. He has (using the phrase in a Parliamentary
+sense) all the kicks and few of the half-pence. With the sub-editor, if
+anything goes wrong in the arrangement of the paper he is held
+responsible, whilst if any triumph is achieved, no halo of the resultant
+glory for a moment lights up the habitual obscurity of his head. It is
+the same, in its way, with the Whip. His work is incessant, and for the
+most part is drudgery. His reward is a possible Peerage, a Colonial
+Governorship, a First Commissionership of Works, a Postmaster-Generalship,
+or, as Sir William Dyke found at the close of a tremendous spell of
+work, a Privy Councillorship.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 136px;">
+<img src="images/image627.jpg" width="136" height="300" alt="SIR WILLIAM DYKE." title="" />
+<span class="caption">SIR WILLIAM DYKE.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Yet it often comes to pass that the fate of a Ministry and the destiny
+of the Empire depend upon the Whip. A bad division, even though it be
+plainly due to accidental circumstances, habitually influences the
+course of a Ministry, sometimes giving their policy a crucial turn, and
+at least exercising an important influence on the course of business in
+the current Session.</p>
+
+<p>An example of this was furnished early in the present Session by a
+division taken on proposals for a Saturday sitting made necessary by
+obstruction. Up to the announcement of the figures it had been
+obstinately settled that the Second Reading of the Home Rule Bill should
+be moved before Easter. The Opposition had pleaded and threatened. Mr.
+Gladstone stood firm, and only three days before this momentous Friday
+had almost impatiently reiterated his determination to move the Second
+Reading of the Bill on the day appointed when leave was given to
+introduce it. The normal majority of forty reduced to twenty-one worked
+instant and magic charm. The falling-off had no political significance.
+Everyone knew it arose from the accidental absence of a number of the
+Irish members called home on local business. But there it was, and on
+the following Monday Sir William Harcourt, on behalf of the Premier,
+announced that the Home Rule Bill would not be taken till after Easter.</p>
+
+<p>For other members of the Ministry there is occasional surcease from
+work, and some opportunity for recreation. For the Whip there is none.
+He begins his labour with the arrival of the morning post, and keeps at
+it till the Speaker has left the chair, and the principal door-keeper
+standing out on the matting before the doorway cries aloud: "The usual
+time!"</p>
+
+<p>That ceremony is a quaint relic of far-off days before penny papers
+were, and the means of communicating with members were circumscribed. It
+is the elliptical form of making known to members that at the next
+sitting the Speaker will take the chair at the usual time. For ordinary
+members, even for Ministers, unless they must be in their place to
+answer a question, "the usual time" means whatever hour best suits their
+convenience. The Whip is in his room even before the Speaker takes the
+chair, and it is merely a change of the scene of labour from his office
+at the Treasury. He remains till the House is up, whether the business
+be brisk or lifeless.</p>
+
+<p>In truth, at times when the House is reduced almost to a state of coma,
+the duties of the Whip become more arduous and exacting. These are the
+occasions when gentle malice loves to bring about a count-out. If it is
+a private members' night the Whips have no responsibility in the matter
+of keeping a House, and have even been suspected<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_627" id="Page_627">[Pg 627]</a></span> of occasionally
+conniving in the beneficent plot of dispersing it. But just now private
+members' nights stand in the same relation to the Session as the
+sententious traveller found to be the case with snakes in Iceland. There
+are none. Every night is a Government night, and weariness of flesh and
+spirit naturally suggests a count-out. The regular business of the Whip
+is to see that there are within call sufficient members to frustrate the
+designs of the casual counter-out.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 153px;">
+<img src="images/image628-1.jpg" width="153" height="300" alt="MR. JARRETT, DOOR-KEEPER." title="" />
+<span class="caption">MR. JARRETT, DOOR-KEEPER.</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="sidenote">"BOBBY" SPENCER.</div>
+
+<p>Mr. Gladstone and other members of the Cabinet, on many dull nights of
+this Session, have been cheered on crossing the lobby by the sight of
+Mr. "Bobby" Spencer gracefully tripping about, note-book in hand,
+holding an interminable succession of members in brief but animated
+conversation. He is not making a book for the Derby or Goodwood, as one
+might suspect. "Do you dine here to-night?" is his insinuating inquiry,
+and till he has listed more than enough men to "make a House" in case of
+need, he does not feel assured of the safety of the British
+Constitution, and therefore does not rest.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 129px;">
+<img src="images/image628-2.jpg" width="129" height="300" alt="&quot;BOBBY&quot; SPENCER." title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;BOBBY&quot; SPENCER.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>This is part of the ordinary work of the average night. When an
+important division is impending, the labour imposed upon the Whip is
+Titanic. He, of course, knows every individual member of his flock. With
+a critical division pending he must know more, ascertaining where he is
+and, above all, where he will be on the night of the division. It is at
+these crises that the personal characteristics of the Whip are tested. A
+successful Whip should be almost loved, and not a little feared. He
+should ever wear the silken glove, but there should be borne in upon the
+consciousness of those with whom he has to deal that it covers an iron
+hand.</p>
+
+<p>It happens just now that both political parties in the House of Commons
+are happy in the possession of almost model Whips. As was said by a
+shrewd observer, no one looking at Mr. Marjoribanks or Mr. Akers-Douglas
+as they lounge about the Lobby "would suppose they could say 'Bo!' to a
+goose." The goose, however, would do well not to push the experiment of
+forbearance too far. All through the last Parliament Mr. Akers-Douglas
+held his men together with a light, firm hand, that was the admiration
+and despair of the other side. Mr. Marjoribanks has, up to this present
+time of writing, maintained the highest standard of success in Whipping.</p>
+
+<div class="sidenote">MR. MARJORIBANKS.</div>
+
+<p>With a Ministerial majority standing at a maximum of forty, it is of the
+utmost importance to the Government that there shall be no sign of
+falling off. If the forty were diminished even by a unit, a storm of
+cheering would rise from the Opposition Benches, and Ministerialists
+would be correspondingly depressed. With the exception named, due to
+circumstances entirely beyond the Whip's control, Mr. Marjoribanks has
+in all divisions, big or small, mustered his maximum majority of forty,
+and has usually exceeded it.</p>
+
+<p>That means not only unfailing assiduity and admirable business
+management, but personal popularity on the part of the Whip. Aside from
+party considerations, no Liberal would like to "disoblige Marjoribanks,"
+who is as popular with the Irish contingent as he is with the main body
+of the British members. He is fortunate in his colleagues<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_628" id="Page_628">[Pg 628]</a></span>&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Ellis, Mr. Spencer, Mr. Causton, and Mr. McArthur. The Whip's
+department has not always been a strong feature in a Liberal
+Administration. In the present Government it is one of the strongest.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 167px;">
+<img src="images/image629-1.jpg" width="167" height="250" alt="MR. MARJORIBANKS." title="" />
+<span class="caption">MR. MARJORIBANKS.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Why Mr. Marjoribanks should be content to serve as Whip is one of the
+mysteries that surround the situation. He does not want a peerage, since
+that will come to him in the ordinary course of nature. He is one of the
+personages in political life who excite the sympathy of Lord Rosebery,
+inasmuch as he must be a peer <i>malgr&eacute; lui</i>. He served a long
+apprenticeship when the office of Whip was more than usually thankless,
+his party being in opposition. When Mr. Gladstone's Ministry was formed,
+it was assumed, as a matter of course, that Mr. Marjoribanks would have
+found for him office in other department than that of the Whip. But Mr.
+Gladstone, very shrewdly from the Leader's point of view, felt that no
+one would be more useful to the party in the office vacated by Mr.
+Arnold Morley than Mr. Marjoribanks. Mr. Marjoribanks, naturally
+disposed to think last of his own interests and inclinations, did not
+openly demur.</p>
+
+<div class="sidenote">ALL-NIGHT SITTINGS.</div>
+
+<p>The Whip's post, though hard enough, is much lightened by adoption of
+the twelve o'clock rule. Time was, at no distant date, when for some
+months in the Session Whips were accustomed to go home in broad
+daylight. It is true the House at that time met an hour later in the
+afternoon, but the earlier buckling to is a light price to pay for the
+certainty that shortly after midnight all will be over. Even now the
+twelve o'clock rule may be suspended, and this first Session of the new
+Parliament has shown that all-night sittings are not yet impossible. But
+so unaccustomed is the present House to them, that when one became
+necessary on the Mutiny Bill everyone and everything was found
+unprepared. In the old days, when Mr. Biggar was in his prime, the
+commissariat were always prepared for an all-night sitting. When, this
+Session, the House sat up all night on the Mutiny Bill, the larder was
+cleared out in the first hour after midnight.</p>
+
+<p>It is not generally known how nearly the valuable life of the Chairman
+of Ways and Means was on that occasion sacrificed at the post of duty.
+Having lost earlier chances by remaining in the chair, it was only at
+four o'clock in the morning he was rescued from famine by the daring
+foraging of Mr. Herbert Gladstone, who, the House being cleared for one
+of the divisions, brought in a cup of tea and a poached egg on toast,
+which the Chairman disposed of at the table.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 213px;">
+<img src="images/image629-2.jpg" width="213" height="250" alt="MR. MELLOR." title="" />
+<span class="caption">MR. MELLOR.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Mr. Mellor is an old Parliamentary campaigner, and remembers several
+occasions when, living injudiciously near the House, he was brought out
+of bed to assist in withstanding obstruction. Being called up one
+morning by an imperative request to repair to the House, he observed a
+man violently ringing at the bell of the house of a neighbour, also a
+member of the House of Commons. On returning two hours later, he found
+the man still there, diligently ringing at the bell.</p>
+
+<p>"What's the matter?" he asked; "anyone ill?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_629" id="Page_629">[Pg 629]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"No, sir," said the man. "Lord Richard Grosvenor sent me to bring Mr.
+&mdash;&mdash; down to the House, and said I was not to come away without him."</p>
+
+<p>"Ah, well, you can go off now; the House is up."</p>
+
+<p>Mr. &mdash;&mdash;, it turned out on subsequent inquiry, had gone down to Brighton
+with his family, and the servants left at home did not think it
+necessary to answer a bell rung at this untimely hour.</p>
+
+<div class="sidenote">"PAIRED FOR THE NIGHT."</div>
+
+<p>It was about the same time, in the Parliament of 1880, that another
+messenger from the Government Whip went forth in the early morning in
+search of a member. He lived in Queen Anne's Mansions, and the messenger
+explaining the urgency of his errand, the night porter conducted him to
+the bedroom door of the sleeping senator. Succeeding in awakening him,
+he delivered his message.</p>
+
+<p>"Give my compliments to Lord Richard Grosvenor," said the wife of the
+still somnolent M.P.; "tell him my husband has gone to bed, and is
+paired for the night."</p>
+
+<div class="sidenote">BARE-HEADED.</div>
+
+<p>It is an old tradition, observed to this day, though the origin of it is
+lost in the obscurity of the Middle Ages, that a Whip shall not appear
+in the Lobby with his head covered. It is true Mr. Marjoribanks does not
+observe this rule, but he is alone in the exception. All his
+predecessors, as far as I can remember, conformed to the regulation. In
+the last Parliament the earliest intimation of the formation of a new
+Radical party was the appearance in the Lobby of Mr. Jacoby without his
+hat. Inquiry excited by this phenomenon led to the disclosure that the
+Liberal opposition had broken off into a new section. There was some
+doubt as to who was the leader, but none as to the fact that Mr. Jacoby
+and Mr. Philip Stanhope were the Whips. Mr. Stanhope was not much in
+evidence. But on the day Mr. Jacoby accepted the appointment he locked
+up his hat and patrolled the Lobby with an air of sagacity and an
+appearance of brooding over State secrets, which at once raised the new
+party into a position of importance.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 141px;">
+<img src="images/image630-1.jpg" width="141" height="350" alt="MR. JACOBY." title="" />
+<span class="caption">MR. JACOBY.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Dick Power, most delightful of Irishmen, most popular of Whips, made
+through the Session regular play with his hat. Anyone familiar with his
+habits would know how the land lay from the Irish quarter. If Mr. Power
+appeared hatless in the Lobby, a storm was brewing, and before the
+Speaker left the chair there would, so to speak, be wigs on the green.
+If his genial face beamed from under his hat as he walked about the
+Lobby the weather was set fair, at least for the sitting.</p>
+
+<div class="sidenote">THE WINSOME WIGGIN.</div>
+
+<p>One of the duties of the junior Whips is to keep sentry-go at the door
+leading from the Lobby to the cloak-room, and so out into Palace Yard.
+When a division is expected, no member may pass out unless he is paired.
+That is not the only way by which escape from the House may be made. A
+member desirous of evading the scrutiny of the Whips might find at least
+two other ways of quitting the House. It is, however, a point of honour
+to use only this means of exit, and no member under whatsoever pressure
+would think of skulking out.</p>
+
+<p>For many nights through long Sessions, Lord Kensington sat on the bench
+to the left of the doorway, a terror to members who had pressing private
+engagements elsewhere, when a division was even possible. There is only
+one well-authenticated occasion when a member, being unpaired, succeeded
+in getting past Lord Kensington, and the result was not encouraging.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 222px;">
+<img src="images/image630-2.jpg" width="222" height="250" alt="&quot;SKULKING OUT.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;SKULKING OUT.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>One night, Mr. Wiggin (now Sir Henry), the withdrawal of whose genial
+presence from the Parliamentary scene is regretted on both<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_630" id="Page_630">[Pg 630]</a></span> sides of the
+House, felt wearied with long attendance on his Parliamentary duties.
+There came upon him a weird longing to stroll out and spend an hour in a
+neighbouring educational establishment much frequented by members. He
+looked towards the doorway, but there was Lord Kensington steadfast at
+his post. Glancing again, Mr. Wiggin thought the Whip was asleep.
+Casually strolling by him he found that this was the case, and with
+something more than his usual agility, he passed through the doorway.</p>
+
+<p>Returning at the end of an hour he found Lord Kensington still at his
+post, and more than usually wide awake.</p>
+
+<p>"You owe me &pound;25," said Mr. Wiggin.</p>
+
+<p>"How?" cried the astonished Whip.</p>
+
+<p>"If," said Mr. Wiggin, producing his unencumbered watch-chain and
+dangling it, "you hadn't been asleep just now, I wouldn't have got past
+you; if I hadn't got past you, I wouldn't have dropped in at the
+Aquarium; and if I hadn't looked in at the Aquarium, I shouldn't have
+had my watch stolen."</p>
+
+<p><i>Quod erat demonstrandum.</i></p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 261px;">
+<img src="images/image631.jpg" width="261" height="250" alt="&quot;ABSORBED.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;ABSORBED.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="sidenote">REMARKABLE FEAT OF A COUNTRY PAPER.</div>
+
+<p>It was stated at the time, to the credit of the provincial Press, that
+at the very moment Mr. St. John Brodrick was delivering in the House of
+Commons his luminous speech on the Second Reading of the Home Rule Bill,
+his constituents at Guildford, thanks to the enterprise of the local
+weekly paper, were studying its convincing argument, lingering over the
+rhythm of its sentences, echoing the laughter and applause with which a
+crowded House punctuated it. I enjoyed the higher privilege of hearing
+the speech delivered, and was probably so absorbed that I was not
+conscious of the crowd on the benches, and do not recollect the laughter
+and applause. Indeed, my memory enshrines rather a feeling of regret
+that so painstaking and able an effort should have met with so chilling
+a reception, and that an heir-apparent to a peerage, who has had the
+courage to propose a scheme for the reform of the House of Lords, should
+receive such scant attention in the Commons.</p>
+
+<div class="sidenote"><i>Il y a</i> POWER <i>et</i> POWER.</div>
+
+<p>Mr. Brodrick, however, got off his speech, and the local paper came out
+with its verbatim report, a concatenation of circumstances not always
+achieved. In the high tide of the Parnell invasion of the House of
+Commons, there happened an accident that excited much merriment. Mr.
+O'Connor Power&mdash;one of the ablest debaters the early Irish party brought
+into the House, a gentleman who has with equal success given up to
+journalism what was meant for the House of Commons&mdash;had prepared a
+speech for a current debate. Desirous that his constituents should be at
+least on a footing of equality with an alien House of Commons, he sent a
+verbatim copy in advance to the editor of the local paper, an
+understanding being arrived at that it was not to be published till
+signal was received from Westminster that the hon. member was on his
+feet. It happened that Mr. O'Connor Power failed on that night to catch
+the Speaker's eye. Mr. Richard Power was more successful, and the local
+editor receiving through the ordinary Press agency intimation that "Mr.
+Power opposed the Bill," at once jumped to the conclusion that this was
+the cue for the verbatim speech. Mr. Power was speaking; there was not
+the slightest doubt that Mr. O'Connor Power, when he did speak, would
+oppose the Bill. So the formes were locked, the paper went to press, and
+the next morning County Mayo rang with the unuttered eloquence of its
+popular member, and Irishmen observed with satisfaction how, for once,
+the sullen Saxon had had his torpid humour stirred, being frequently
+incited to "loud cheers" and "much laughter."</p>
+
+<div class="sidenote">SIR ELLIS ASHMEAD-BARTLETT'S DILEMMA.</div>
+
+<p>In this same debate on the Second Reading of the Home Rule Bill, where
+the energy and enterprise of the provincial weekly Press was
+incidentally illustrated in connection with Mr. Brodrick's speech, there
+happened another episode which did not work out so well. Sir Ellis
+Ashmead-Bartlett broke the long silence of years by delivering a speech
+in the House of Commons. It was a great occasion, and naturally evoked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_631" id="Page_631">[Pg 631]</a></span>
+supreme effort. It was, in its way, akin to the wooing of Jacob. For
+seven years that eminent diplomatist had worked and waited for Rachel,
+and might well rejoice, even in the possession of Leah, when the term of
+probation was over. For nearly seven years Mr. Ashmead-Bartlett had sat
+on the Treasury Bench wrapped in the silence of a Civil Lord of the
+Admiralty. Now his time was come, and he threw himself into the
+enjoyment of opportunity with almost pathetic vigour. It was eleven
+o'clock when he rose, and the debate must needs stand adjourned at
+midnight. When twelve o'clock struck, Sir Ellis was still in the full
+flow of his turgid eloquence. His speech was constructed on the
+principle of, and (except, perhaps, in the matter of necessity)
+resembled, the long bridge in Cowper's "Task"&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">That with its wearisome but needful length<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bestrides the wintry flood.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p>The scene and the atmosphere were sufficiently Arctic to bear out the
+comparison. The audience had long since fallen away, like leaves in
+wintry weather. In ordinary circumstances Sir Ellis, an old
+Parliamentary Hand, would have wound up his speech, and so made an end
+of it, just before the stroke of midnight gave the signal for the
+Speaker's leaving the chair.</p>
+
+<p>There were, however, two reasons, the agony of whose weight must have
+pressed sorely on the orator. One was the recollection of an incident in
+his career still talked of in the busy circles round Sheffield. One
+night in yesteryear he was announced to deliver a speech at a meeting
+held in Nottingham. "For greater accuracy"&mdash;as the Speaker says, when,
+coming back from the House of Lords on the opening day of a Session, he
+reads the Queen's Speech to hon. members who have two hours earlier
+studied it in the evening papers&mdash;Mr. Ashmead-Bartlett had written out
+his oration and supplied it to the Sheffield paper whose recognition of
+his status as a statesman merits reward. Proceedings at the Nottingham
+meeting were so protracted, and took such different lines from those
+projected, that the orator of the evening, when his turn came, found the
+night too far advanced for his ordered speech, which would in other
+respects have been beside the mark. He accordingly, impromptu, delivered
+quite another speech, probably better than the one laboriously prepared
+in the seclusion of the closet. In the hurry and excitement of the
+moment he forgot to warn the Sheffield editor, with the consequence that
+the other speech was printed in full and formed the groundwork of a
+laudatory leading article.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 152px;">
+<img src="images/image632.jpg" width="152" height="300" alt="SIR ELLIS ASHMEAD-BARTLETT." title="" />
+<span class="caption">SIR ELLIS ASHMEAD-BARTLETT.</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>That was one thing that agitated the mind of Sir Ellis, and probably
+gave a profounder thrill to his denunciation of Mr. Gladstone's iniquity
+in the matter of the Home Rule Bill. Another was that this later speech,
+with all its graceful air of ready wit, fervid fancy, and momentarily
+inspired argument, was also in print, and, according to current report,
+was in advance widely circulated among a friendly Press. It turned out
+to be impossible to recite it all before the adjournment; equally
+impossible to cut it down. That mighty engine, the Press, was already,
+in remote centres of civilization, throbbing with the inspiration of his
+energy, printing off the speech at so many hundreds an hour. It was
+impossible to communicate with the unconscious editors and mark the
+exact point at which the night's actual contribution to debate was
+arrested. There was only one thing to be done: that was boldly to take
+the fence. So Sir Ellis went on till twelve o'clock as if nothing were
+happening elsewhere, was pulled up by the adjournment, and, turning up
+bright and early with the meeting of the House next day, reeled off the
+rest regardless of the gibes of the enemy, who said some of the faithful
+papers had muddled the matter, reporting on Tuesday morning passages
+that were not delivered in the House of Commons till Tuesday night.</p>
+
+<div class="sidenote">THE PITY OF IT.</div>
+
+<p>These accidents have their comical aspect. When it comes to
+appropriating two hours of the time of a busy Legislature, they also
+have their serious side. The House of Commons is a debating assembly,
+not a lecture hall, where prosy papers may be read to sparse audiences.
+The House is seen at its best when masters<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_632" id="Page_632">[Pg 632]</a></span> of fence follow each other
+in swift succession, striking and parrying, the centre of an excited
+ring. A prevalence of the growing custom of reading laboriously-prepared
+papers will speedily bring it down to the level of the Congress meeting
+at Washington. There the practice has reached its natural and happy
+conclusion, inasmuch as members having prepared their papers are not
+obliged to read them. They hand them in to the printer, and, at a cost
+to the nation willingly borne in view of compensating circumstances,
+they are printed at length in the <i>Congressional Globe</i>.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 270px;">
+<img src="images/image633.jpg" width="270" height="350" alt="&quot;REELING IT OFF.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;REELING IT OFF.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Perhaps when we have our official report of debates in the House of
+Commons this also will follow. It is easy to imagine with what eagerness
+the House would welcome any alternative that should deliver it from the
+necessity, not of listening to these musty harangues&mdash;that, to do it
+justice, it never suffers&mdash;but of giving up an appreciable portion of
+its precious time to the gratification of ponderous, implacable,
+personal vanity.</p>
+
+<div class="sidenote">THACKERAY ON THE SUBJECT.</div>
+
+<p>There is one gleam of light flickering about this intrinsically
+melancholy topic in connection with the name of Thackeray. I have read
+somewhere that it was a kindred calamity of a public speaker which led
+to Thackeray's first appearance in print. At a time when the century was
+young, and the author of "Vanity Fair" was a lad at Charterhouse,
+Richard Lalor Sheil, the Irish lawyer and orator, had promised to
+deliver a speech to a public meeting assembled on Penenden Heath. In
+those days there were no staffs of special reporters, no telegraphs, nor
+anything less costly than post-chaises wherewith to establish rapid
+communication between country platforms and London newspaper offices.
+Sheil, rising to the height of the occasion, wrote out his speech, and,
+before leaving town, sent copies to the leading journals, in which it,
+on the following morning, duly appeared.</p>
+
+<p>Alack! when the orator reached the Heath he found the platform in
+possession of the police, who prohibited the meeting and would have none
+of the speech. The incident was much talked of, and the boy Thackeray
+set to and wrote in verse a parody on the printed but unspoken oration:
+Here is the last verse, as I remember it:&mdash;</p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"What though these heretics heard me not?"<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Quoth he to his friend Canonical;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">"My speech is safe in the <i>Times</i>, I wot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And eke in the <i>Morning Chronicle</i>."<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>[<i>The original drawings of the illustrations in this Magazine are always
+on view, and on sale, in the Art Gallery at these offices, which is open
+to the public without charge.</i>]</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_633" id="Page_633">[Pg 633]</a></span></p>
+<h2><i>A Work of Accusation.</i></h2>
+
+<h3><span class="smcap">By Harry How.</span></h3>
+
+
+<p>"Suicide whilst in a state of temporary insanity."</p>
+
+<p>Such was the verdict of the coroner's jury, and they could scarcely have
+declared anything else&mdash;there was not a tittle of evidence implicating
+another as the perpetrator of the deed. The deceased was found lying in
+his studio at the foot of his easel, shot through the heart. The
+revolver&mdash;a six-chambered one&mdash;was tightly gripped in his hand. Four out
+of the six chambers remained undischarged. It must have been suicide,
+simple and premeditated! The inquiry into the death of the deceased
+revealed only one spark of anything approaching sensationalism. It was
+the evidence of the housekeeper&mdash;an old lady of distinctly nervous
+temperament&mdash;who wept bitterly. Previous to the sad occurrence she had
+heard the firing of a pistol some five or six times during a period of
+two days. On the first occasion she had hurried to the studio, and the
+alarmed state of her feelings was sufficient to cause her to overlook
+the formality of giving the customary tap at the door previous to
+entering. She entered the room, only to find the deceased artist holding
+a pistol&mdash;the one produced&mdash;and looking at its barrel, still smoking,
+earnestly. He burst into a hearty laugh when he saw her, and told her
+not to be frightened.</p>
+
+<p>"It is nothing, Mrs. Thompson," he said, "and should you hear the firing
+again, do not be alarmed. Don't be frightened."</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 368px;">
+<img src="images/image634.jpg" width="368" height="450" alt="&quot;DON&#39;T BE FRIGHTENED.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;DON&#39;T BE FRIGHTENED.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>So the firing was frequent, and though it played pitifully with the old
+housekeeper's nerves and shook her seventy-year-old bones considerably,
+she quietly submitted to it and "hoped it was all right."</p>
+
+<p>I knew Godfrey Huntingdon well. He often chatted over his pictures with
+me. As a medical man and a student somewhat beyond the range of physic
+and prescriptions, the pros and cons of an idea to be eventually carried
+to the canvas gave rise to many interesting and discussable points. I
+liked the man&mdash;he was so frank and true and positively simple in his
+unassuming manner. Poor fellow! He never dreamt for a moment that he was
+a genius, but what he did not know the public were quick to recognise.
+Every picture from his brush was watched and waited for&mdash;a canvas from
+him meant a vivid, striking, often sensational episode, which seemed to
+live. I have some of his work in my dining-room now. I often look at his
+figures. They are more human than anything I have seen by any other
+modern painter. They seem possessed of breath and beating<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_634" id="Page_634">[Pg 634]</a></span> hearts of
+their own, with tongues that want to speak, and eyes that reveal a
+thinking brain. The trees in his landscapes appear to be gently shaken
+by the breeze from across the moorland, the clouds only need touching by
+the breath of the firmament to lazily move across the face of the blue
+sky. He was indeed a genius.</p>
+
+<p>It was always an open question in the minds of the public and the
+judgment of the critics as to who excelled the other&mdash;Godfrey Huntingdon
+or Wilfred Colensoe. They both belonged to the same school of ideas.
+Their works were equally impressive, their figure and portrait painting
+particularly so, and the judges said it would be a life-long race
+between them for supremacy with the brush. Huntingdon's sad death was a
+terrible blow to the artistic world. I went to his funeral.</p>
+
+<p>He had not forgotten me. He left me all his studies. There were several
+hundreds of them. Many were familiar to me, for he had made them whilst
+we were smoking a pipe together, as I pointed out to him the necessary
+laws of science he must needs regard in order to insure accuracy in his
+work. The studies made quite a number of huge bundles, and in the
+evening I would delight in sorting them through. It was a long task, for
+I found something to admire and think over in every single one of them.</p>
+
+<p>A fortnight had passed away since they first came into my possession. I
+had only another parcel to go through, and I should be finished. I was
+quietly sitting in my chair with my legs stretched out on another chair,
+as is my custom&mdash;I find it remarkably restful&mdash;and lighting up my brier
+I cut the string of the last bundle. Slowly, one by one, I lifted up
+those pieces of brown paper. They were still objects of reverence to me.
+Here was the head of a child, a sweetly pretty child, and next to it a
+study of a dissipated character, the face of a man fast losing every
+working power of his brain and body by liquor. I realized the genius of
+my dead friend more and more.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 368px;">
+<img src="images/image635.jpg" width="368" height="450" alt="&quot;SLOWLY I LIFTED UP THOSE PIECES OF BROWN PAPER.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;SLOWLY I LIFTED UP THOSE PIECES OF BROWN PAPER.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>I had gone through quite a score of these play studies, when my hand
+stretched out for another from the pile by my side. I turned the piece
+of paper round and round, and it was some time before I grasped what the
+subject was intended for. It appeared to be a piece of round tubing from
+which smoke was protruding. The next half-dozen studies were of a
+similar character. In one the smoke was very small, just a thin streak;
+in another it was a full volume, as though to represent the after effect
+of the discharge of a bullet from a revolver. I looked again. The chalk
+drawing of the tubing was evidently intended for the barrel of a pistol!
+Huntingdon always put the date on every study he made, and I found my
+hand trembling as I turned the paper over. Great heavens&mdash;10th October,
+1872&mdash;the day before his death! Another paper bore the same date, and
+the others had the date of the previous day&mdash;the 9th. Was his death,
+then, the result of an accident and not a suicide after all? Here was
+the simple explanation of it so far&mdash;here was the reason for the several
+shots which the old housekeeper had heard fired. He had discharged the
+revolver at these times in order to watch the effect and immediately
+place<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_635" id="Page_635">[Pg 635]</a></span> his impressions on the pieces of paper I now held in my hand. My
+knowledge of Godfrey Huntingdon&mdash;both medically and fraternally&mdash;told me
+that, at the time of his death, there was positively nothing on his mind
+to cause such an act, and I now began reasoning the whole within myself
+once again, as I had done many times since the occurrence.</p>
+
+<p>"It's a mystery&mdash;a terrible mystery!" I exclaimed, jumping up and
+commencing to pace the room. I walked that room for over an hour, and
+was only aroused from my reverie by the announcement of a servant that
+supper was served. I ate my meal in silence, and the deliberate
+mouthfuls I took, and my more than ordinarily methodical manner of
+eating, must have told my wife that to disturb my present inward
+argument would have been disastrous to the immediate prospects of
+domestic harmony. I had come to a conclusion. There is nothing like
+science and its accompanying occupations for balancing a man's brain. A
+game of chess is recreative concentration. So the study of science was
+with me, whilst physic was my profession. Scientific research and the
+weighing of Nature's problems had steadied my thoughts and cooled my
+actions. It was a settled thing with me that poor Huntingdon had been
+murdered. By whom? Scientific investigation had transformed me into a
+calculating individual. Every action, to me, could be proved as a
+proposition in Euclid or an algebraical problem. I therefore said
+nothing about my startling discovery, and decided to wait the
+possibility of a further suggestion coming in my way, and "proving it."</p>
+
+<p>I suppose it was the deep interest I took in all matters concerning art
+which brought so many artist-patients to my consulting room. Six months
+had passed since the fatal 11th October, and the public were loudly
+expressing their approval of a marvellously impressive bit of painting
+by Wilfred Colensoe, which was the feature&mdash;and very justly so&mdash;of one
+of the early spring exhibitions. It was the picture of a duel&mdash;a very
+realistic canvas indeed. The young man&mdash;lying bleeding on the
+ground&mdash;almost told the story of the attempted avenge of an action
+towards someone dear to him on the part of an elderly <i>rou&eacute;</i>, whose
+still-smoking revolver was in his hand. Colensoe came to see me one
+morning. He was a remarkably handsome man, classically featured, with
+hair picturesquely scattered with streaks of silver.</p>
+
+<p>"Done up, eh?" I said to him.</p>
+
+<p>"Done up is the word," he answered.</p>
+
+<p>"You've been doing too much," I said, looking into his grey eyes as I
+held his hand a moment. "You must cease work for a time. Get away from
+your easel, go abroad, and forget to take your brushes with you. Go
+anywhere, a hundred miles from a retail colourman's."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 407px;">
+<img src="images/image636.jpg" width="407" height="400" alt="&quot;&#39;YOU&#39;VE BEEN DOING TOO MUCH,&#39; I SAID.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;&#39;YOU&#39;VE BEEN DOING TOO MUCH,&#39; I SAID.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"My dear doctor," he answered, "your prescription is too strong. You
+forget I am an artist. It is like taking a man with a dying thirst to a
+fountain of water and telling him he mustn't drink. I can't leave my
+work."</p>
+
+<p>"When I tell you that it is either a case of your leaving your work or
+your work leaving you, my remark may not be very original, but it is
+undeniably true. Do you sleep well?"</p>
+
+<p>"I can't say," was his reply. "When I fall asleep at night I never wake
+until my hour for rising. But I am more tired in the morning than when I
+turned in over-night."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_636" id="Page_636">[Pg 636]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Quite so. Do you dream at all?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, I dream."</p>
+
+<p>"Feel sleepy now&mdash;eh?"</p>
+
+<p>"Doctor, I could go to bed for a week," he replied.</p>
+
+<p>"Again, I tell you&mdash;overwork," I said, with strong deliberation. "Now
+I'll make you a proposal, which I can couple most heartily with the name
+of Mrs. Gratton. Come away with us. We are going to Herne Bay for a few
+weeks. I have taken a house there. Most invigorating place. You want no
+medicine, you won't leave your work alone, I won't be hard in my
+treatment of your case. Bring your tools with you. I will prescribe so
+much colour for you during the day&mdash;your paints and brushes may become
+converted into agreeable physic, but&mdash;they must be taken at periodical
+times. What do you say?"</p>
+
+<p>Colensoe consented&mdash;gratefully accepted my offer, stayed to lunch, and
+my wife took care to let him feel that the invitation was one of
+combined cordiality from both of us. I was a great admirer of Colensoe's
+work, and therefore took a deep interest in the worker. In a week's time
+we were at Herne Bay. A room&mdash;with a good light&mdash;was apportioned off as
+a small studio for Colensoe. A week passed by. Colensoe obeyed my
+instructions to the letter. I limited his working hours, and he began
+himself to be thankful when the periodical times for laying aside his
+brush came round. I noticed this, and lessened the hours of painting
+more, thinking that by degrees he would soon put his palette away
+completely and take the undisturbed rest he needed for a time to restore
+him thoroughly.</p>
+
+<p>About a fortnight after our arrival I was sitting alone in the
+dining-room. My wife and visitor had retired an hour ago. It was a
+glorious night. I turned out the gas, walked to the window, and drew up
+the blinds. The sea was sparkling with gems thrown out by the
+moon-beams. The beauty of the night seemed to heighten the stillness of
+the surroundings. Although it wanted but a few minutes to midnight I
+determined to walk out to the cliffs&mdash;a couple of hundred yards from the
+house&mdash;and view the moonlit scenery to greater advantage. I turned from
+the window, opened the door, and, just as I was turning into the
+passage, I heard a footstep. It was a steady, deliberate step; there was
+nothing uncertain or hesitating about it. I waited a moment; it came
+nearer. I drew back into the shadow. Now it was on the top stair. A form
+appeared in sight. It was Wilfred Colensoe.</p>
+
+<p>"Colensoe," I cried, softly; "why, what's the matter?"</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 250px;">
+<img src="images/image637.jpg" width="250" height="450" alt="&quot;HE STOOD BEFORE HIS EASEL.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;HE STOOD BEFORE HIS EASEL.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>He made no answer. With monotonous step he descended the stairs and was
+now at the bottom. His blank, staring eyes at once told me that he was
+in a state of somnambulism. He was fully dressed. His face was deadly
+pale, his features stolidly set, and his lips were gently moving as
+though impressively muttering. When he reached the bottom stair, he
+turned and walked in the direction of the room we had converted into a
+studio for him. I followed on quietly. With all the method and
+mysterious discretionary<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_637" id="Page_637">[Pg 637]</a></span> power of the sleep-walker he turned the handle
+of the door and entered. The room was flooded with light, for the roof
+was a glass one. I watched him take his palette in hand and play with
+the brushes on the colours. He stood before his easel, on which rested a
+half-finished canvas. And he painted&mdash;painted as true and as sure as if
+awake, blending the colours, picking out his work, working with all his
+old artistic touch and finish. All this time his lips were moving,
+muttering incoherent words I could not hear. At last he laid aside his
+tools with a sigh that almost raised compassion in my heart. Then
+walking towards the window at the far end of the room, he appeared to
+look out upon the sea. He was now talking louder. I crept up to him and
+tried to catch a word. It was a terrible brain-ringing word I heard&mdash;and
+uttered in a way I shall never forget.</p>
+
+<p>"Murder!"</p>
+
+<p>That was the word. "Murder, murder, murder!" he muttered, with agonized
+face. Yet another word came to his lips.</p>
+
+<p>"Huntingdon!"</p>
+
+<p>"Murder&mdash;Huntingdon!" I said within myself as I linked the two words
+together.</p>
+
+<p>The sleeping man passed his hand across his forehead. It was evident
+that he was in the midst of an agonizing dream&mdash;a vision of conviction.
+Here stood the guilty man before me now, pale and motionless, the rays
+from the moon lighting up his face and revealing the word "guilt"
+written on every feature. I watched him and waited for something else to
+come from his lips. I stood by his side for nearly an hour, but he did
+nothing more than repeat these same two words. With measured tread he
+turned to go. I followed him to his bedroom and heard him turn the key.
+I sat up the whole night&mdash;thinking. None knew of the remarkable
+discovery which I had made amongst poor Huntingdon's sketches; none
+should know of what I had learnt to-night. By the morning I had fully
+determined upon my course of action. The ramblings of a sleep-walking
+man would not prove a conviction to those who would judge his deed. He
+should convict himself. He should witness against himself. He was a
+sleep-worker. I had met with many similar cases before, all of which
+tended to prove that sleep by no means deadens the faculties of labour.
+It is indisputable that the hands will follow the inclinations of the
+brains of somnambulists. They will act as they think&mdash;perform what they
+dream. If Colensoe would only work out his terrible night dreams!</p>
+
+<p>My conduct towards him at the breakfast table and throughout the day was
+just the same as ever. It was far from a comfortable feeling, however,
+to pass the wine to one who had taken another's life, and to offer an
+after-dinner cigar to a murderer. The day passed. I slept during the
+afternoon, for I was tired with my over-night watching, and could I but
+put my inward plans into execution, it was more than probable that I
+should be awake for many nights to come. I told my wife that Colensoe
+was a somnambulist, and that he worked at the canvas equally as well
+whilst sleeping as waking. I impressed upon her the absolute necessity
+of silence on the subject, as I firmly believed that I was on the brink
+of a great discovery. Seeing that I was a medical man, her curiosity was
+in no way aroused. Indeed, she thought me foolish to give up my night's
+rest.</p>
+
+<p>That night, after Colensoe had gone to bed, I went into his studio. My
+hand trembled somewhat as I placed on his easel a square piece of new
+canvas. This done, I waited patiently. A step on the stairs rewarded me.
+It was Colensoe walking again. His speech was louder this time, and more
+impressively distinct; his dream was evidently more agonizing than the
+night before. If he would only follow out the promptings of that
+dream&mdash;if he would but work to-night&mdash;to-night! I watched him
+breathlessly. He wandered about the room for some time, then suddenly,
+as though impelled by some mysterious force within, crossed to the
+cupboard where he kept his tools, took out his materials and walked to
+the canvas.</p>
+
+<p>"Huntingdon&mdash;Huntingdon!" he cried, and the first lines of his
+everlasting vision were written on the hitherto untouched canvas. It was
+the outline of a man's face! For two hours he worked, and then,
+replacing his brushes and palette, went to bed. I took the canvas away.
+Night after night for ten days I placed the canvas in position. Night
+after night the artist got nearer to accomplishing his own condemnation.
+And as the picture grew more like the man he had murdered, so his dream
+became more intense. His features showed that. The rapidity of his brush
+revealed the rush of thoughts within, of an anxiety to complete his
+task. Never was such a true portrait painted, and when on the last night
+he put the finishing touches to it, the face of Huntingdon seemed to
+live on the canvas. It was the face which existed in the brain of the
+painter. The last night's work was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_638" id="Page_638">[Pg 638]</a></span> done. The sleeping man turned from
+his easel and went to his bedroom once more.</p>
+
+<p>The morrow would tell me if Colensoe was guilty. I had little doubt of
+it in my own mind&mdash;but he should say so himself when waking as he had
+condemned himself whilst sleeping. I would take him to the studio and
+confront him with his own testimony. He should see the face of the man
+whose life he had taken, painted with his own hands. He was later than
+usual in coming down that morning. I left the breakfast-room with the
+intention of calling him, when, just as I got into the passage, I saw
+him at the top of the stairs. His hat was on. His face was ghastly pale,
+every feature was working. His eyes betokened some mad intention&mdash;their
+gaze appeared to kill. He almost flew down the stairs.</p>
+
+<p>"Don't stop me," he cried. "I must go into the open. I want God's air.
+Let me go now&mdash;let me go, only for a little while!"</p>
+
+<p>"Colensoe," I said, catching him by the arm, "what mad act do you
+contemplate?"</p>
+
+<p>"Nothing&mdash;nothing. Believe me, nothing. I only want the refreshing
+breeze, that's all. I'm tired&mdash;worn out."</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, you are truly tired," I said.</p>
+
+<p>"What do you mean?" he cried.</p>
+
+<p>"Your work."</p>
+
+<p>"Work&mdash;what work?&mdash;who works?"</p>
+
+<p>"Come with me," I said.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 468px;">
+<img src="images/image639.jpg" width="468" height="400" alt="&quot;HE SHRIEKED THE MURDERED MAN&#39;S NAME.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;HE SHRIEKED THE MURDERED MAN&#39;S NAME.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Like a child he followed me to his studio. I opened the door. The
+portrait of Huntingdon rested on the easel. He saw it. The eyes he had
+painted pierced him to the heart, and the lips almost moved in
+accusation. He shrieked the murdered man's name and fell to the ground.
+He was dead!</p>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<p>The following letter was found on Wilfred Colensoe's dressing-table:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"What good is life to me?&mdash;what good am I for life? Then why live? A
+guilty conscience only means a living death. You have been very good to
+me&mdash;both you and your wife. But I am going to end it all. Let me
+confess. It will bring me some small comfort even now in the dying hour
+I have given to myself. You remember poor Huntingdon? I shot that
+man&mdash;murdered him. Listen and then 'Good-bye.' Huntingdon and I were
+friendly rivals. You remember my picture of 'The Duel'? Yes. One day I
+visited Huntingdon. That same morning I had been making some studies of
+a revolver in the act of being discharged. I had it in my pocket when I
+went to see Huntingdon, and one chamber remained loaded. I walked
+straight into his studio. As I entered Huntingdon had a pistol in his
+hand pointed immediately towards me and&mdash;fired. In an instant my
+revolver was in my grasp and a bullet had entered his heart. That is the
+simple history of the crime. I fled from the place and none knew. Thank
+God this is written. A life for a life. I am passing through death all
+the day, and at night I do not cease to die. You do not know what that
+means. The guilty do. Angels of darkness play with you all day long and
+at night watch over you&mdash;watch over you that you do not escape, that
+they may gambol with you on the morrow. They are making merry now. They
+have got what they want&mdash;<i>Me</i>. Yes, a life for a life. I will deliver my
+own up. Good-bye."</p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_639" id="Page_639">[Pg 639]</a></span></p>
+<h2><i>The Queer Side of Things.</i></h2>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 462px;">
+<img src="images/image640.jpg" width="462" height="450" alt="A USE FOR GENIUS" title="" />
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Young Bansted Downs had finally arrived home from school; the cabman had
+placed his box in the front hall, and young D. was in the act of hanging
+up his hat on the stand, when the elder Bansted Downs, his father, put
+his head out of the library, and said:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"And now, young Bansted Downs, what sphere in life do you propose to
+fill?"</p>
+
+<p>"I have been thinking, old Bansted Downs," replied the youth,
+respectfully, "since I left school seventy-five minutes ago, that I
+should prefer to be something prosperous."</p>
+
+<p>The father nodded his head approvingly at this evidence of foresight in
+his child, and said:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"I think you have come to a very wise decision, young Bansted Downs. No
+doubt you have, while at school, selected such studies as were best
+fitted to prepare you for the struggle of life?"</p>
+
+<p>"I think so, old Bansted Downs," replied the son. "The head-master took
+in regularly for our use all the best prize-competition periodicals; in
+fact, he was of opinion that a complete selection of these rendered all
+other educational books superfluous. I myself have attained to such
+dexterity in guessing the right word, deciding on the best eight
+pictures and the two best stories, divining the correct number of pairs
+of boots made in London on a given day, and so forth, that Dr.
+Practiccle pronounced my education singularly complete."</p>
+
+<p>"Good&mdash;very good! young Bansted Downs," said the father, thoughtfully;
+"and now as to a more specific choice of profession?"</p>
+
+<p>"Well, old Bansted Downs," said the son, "I have been thinking that I
+should like to be apprenticed to a Genius, with a view to adopting his
+calling."</p>
+
+<p>"Very well thought out," said the parent. "I must consider whether the
+necessary premium&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Pray do not trouble about that," said the son, "as my success at the
+word competitions has more than provided for the contingency." And young
+Bansted Downs drew<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_640" id="Page_640">[Pg 640]</a></span> from his pocket a large bag filled with a mixture of
+sovereigns, marbles, and peppermint-drops.</p>
+
+<p>"Very good! Then the matter's settled; and perhaps you would like
+something to eat."</p>
+
+<p>All the friends by whose opinion old Bansted Downs set any store
+heartily approved of young Bansted Downs's choice of a calling; and the
+matter was fully discussed that evening. The advertisement columns of
+the newspapers were consulted as to the most suitable genius to
+undertake the charge of the youth; and the following seemed promising:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>"<i>To Parents and Guardians.</i>&mdash;<i>Young men of promise wishing to adopt the
+profession of genius will do well to apply to Brayne Power and Sons, of
+3019<span class="smcap">a</span>, George Street, Hanover Square, who have a vacancy for one
+apprentice. Telephone No. 7142863.</i>"</p>
+
+<p>The very next day young Bansted Downs called at the address given, and
+was shown into the presence of Power senior, a man of venerable
+appearance, whose high broad forehead, far-away gaze, long hair, and
+abstraction sufficiently revealed his calling.</p>
+
+<p>"It will be fifty pounds&mdash;twenty-five down, and the rest in monthly
+instalments of one pound after you have got your H.A.W.," said the
+Master Genius.</p>
+
+<p>"If you please, what is my H.A.W.?" asked young Bansted Downs.</p>
+
+<p>"Your final degree&mdash;your Head Above Water."</p>
+
+<p>"That will not be just yet?" asked the youth.</p>
+
+<p>"Oh, dear, no! Not for a very long while, if ever. There are two
+preliminary degrees to get before that. There are the F.I. and the
+E.P.&mdash;your Foot In and your Ear of the Public; and before you can obtain
+either of these you will have to Make your Mark."</p>
+
+<p>"I can sign my name&mdash;will not that do as well?" asked the youth.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 389px;">
+<img src="images/image641.jpg" width="389" height="450" alt="&quot;THE MASTER GENIUS.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;THE MASTER GENIUS.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"That entirely depends upon the sort of name. If it's just a surname
+with a coronet over it, it entitles you to your F.I. and your E.P.
+without any examination. You have the same advantage if you can append
+to your signature either of the following affixes: P.P. (Pertinacious
+Pusher) or C.I. (Chum of the Influential).</p>
+
+<p>"But if you can't sign these kinds of names, you will have to Make your
+Mark. It's a difficult mark, and requires a lot of learning.</p>
+
+<p>"As the first instalment of twenty-five pounds down is all I am ever
+likely to get, I will take it now&mdash;no, that one won't do; it's a
+peppermint-drop, not a sovereign. <i>That's</i> not the way to get on, young
+man!"</p>
+
+<p>"Isn't it?" asked young Bansted Downs thoughtfully. "I'm glad you told
+me. I thought perhaps it might be; but, of course, I've got to learn."</p>
+
+<p>That very week young Bansted Downs commenced his studies under the
+Master Genius. He found he had a very great deal to learn.</p>
+
+<p>"The difference between talent and genius is that talent does what it
+can and genius does what it must&mdash;you will find that in the poets," said
+the Master Genius. "Consequently, to be a genius, you need not feel that
+you have the <i>ability</i> to do a thing, but only that it is <i>necessary</i> to
+do it. A house-painter is a specimen of genius: he has not the ability
+to do his work; but he is compelled to do it in order to obtain the
+means for his Saturday drinks. But, of course, that's only one kind of
+genius. What we have to teach you first is to feel that you <i>must</i> do
+something transcendent&mdash;and then all you've got to do is to do it&mdash;see?"</p>
+
+<p>So, acting on his instructions, young Bansted Downs went to the office
+and sat quite still day after day for a month or two, with his eyes
+fixed on space; and one afternoon at the end of that time he got up and
+rushed at Power junior (who took charge of him in these preliminary
+studies), and announced<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_641" id="Page_641">[Pg 641]</a></span> that he felt the irresistible impulse to do
+something great and wonderful.</p>
+
+<p>"What sort of thing?" asked the Junior Genius.</p>
+
+<p>"I don't know&mdash;anything&mdash;something stupendous and transcendent&mdash;a
+master-piece!" said young Bansted Downs.</p>
+
+<p>"Knock it off, then. Don't make a labour of it, mind; that would spoil
+all the genius of it. Just knock it off&mdash;shed it&mdash;see?"</p>
+
+<p>The apprentice went back to his stool in the corner and knocked off that
+scintillation of genius.</p>
+
+<p>"Very good for a beginner," said the Junior Genius; "you show much
+promise. I shall soon be able to hand you over to my father for the
+Higher Grades."</p>
+
+<p>And some time after that young Bansted Downs moved into the room of the
+Master Genius to learn the higher attributes of genius&mdash;eccentricity and
+obscureness. These were the most important parts of the qualifications,
+and he worked hard at acquiring them. The eccentricity had infinite
+ramifications extending into language, manner, dress, habits,
+appearance, and opinions. The teacher communicated a thousand little
+touches of eccentricity invaluable to a genius&mdash;such as the bringing out
+of a book of poems with the title printed upside down and the capitals
+at the end of the lines instead of the beginning; the wearing of the
+back hair tied in a bow under the tip of the nose, and so forth. The
+pupil learned to hop backwards on to a public platform, wearing his
+dress-coat upside down, to paint his figures with their bones outside
+their skin, to sob audibly when performing on the piano; and many other
+things necessary to the obtaining of his degrees.</p>
+
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 260px;">
+<img src="images/image642-1.jpg" width="260" height="450" alt="&quot;A HOUSE-PAINTER IS A SPECIMEN OF GENIUS.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;A HOUSE-PAINTER IS A SPECIMEN OF GENIUS.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Having completed these studies, he was ready for the uphill work of
+trying to Make his Mark; and he found it a complicated bit of drawing
+too, far worse than the signature of a Chinese emperor&mdash;everything lay
+in the flourish.</p>
+
+<p>The Master Genius said that no one could Make his Mark without a great
+flourish; and the best way to make the flourish was to blow it on his
+own trumpet; so there was the expense of a trumpet.</p>
+
+<p>But he didn't seem able to get on; and after he had worn out a gross of
+pens in the attempt to Make his Mark he felt that he would never obtain
+his degrees, and took a back cistern-cupboard under the roof in a poor
+street, and fell into a low state.</p>
+
+<p>One day, as he was eating his weekly sausage at the Three Melancholy
+Geniuses, off Fleet Street, there entered a party whom he knew slightly
+and who had Made his Mark and passed all his degrees some time before.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 400px;">
+<img src="images/image642-2.jpg" width="400" height="287" alt="&quot;TO SOB AUDIBLY WHEN PERFORMING ON THE PIANO.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;TO SOB AUDIBLY WHEN PERFORMING ON THE PIANO.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_642" id="Page_642">[Pg 642]</a></span>"Haven't Made your Mark yet?" said this party. "Tell you what&mdash;why don't
+you get Boomed?"</p>
+
+<p>"Does it hurt?" asked young Bansted Downs.</p>
+
+<p>"Hurts your self-respect just a little and your respect for your
+fellow-creatures a little more&mdash;but it's nothing," replied the party.</p>
+
+<p>"Where do you go?"</p>
+
+<p>"To the Press Booming Department, of course. Just put your name down for
+Booming, and fill up a form, stating what you require said about you.
+You began all wrong: I never studied&mdash;I only went and put my name down
+the moment it occurred to me that I would be a genius. I called at the
+office every day, and shouted my name, and created disturbances, and got
+turned out; until at last they couldn't stand it any longer, and my turn
+came.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image643.jpg" width="450" height="368" alt="&quot;I CALLED AT THE OFFICE EVERY DAY AND SHOUTED MY NAME.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;I CALLED AT THE OFFICE EVERY DAY AND SHOUTED MY NAME.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>"They put a long article about me in every newspaper, all the same
+day&mdash;mostly interviews&mdash;and quoted me as a classic. Some of 'em
+described me as a painter, and others as a novelist: I never was either;
+but it answered all right."</p>
+
+<p>So young Bansted Downs went to the Booming office, and put his name
+down, and shouted; and the end of it was he got his Boom, and several
+editors wrote to him; and he began to be a little successful.</p>
+
+<p>He hired halls, and went before the public in person; and painted on the
+platform; and sang and played his own compositions to them; and recited
+his own poems, and acted his own plays; and told them about his own
+scientific researches, and his military, exploratory, judicial,
+political, and athletic achievements.</p>
+
+<p>But the thing dulled off, for one day a deputation of the public called
+at the Booming office to ask something about him; and the office had
+forgotten his name, and said that he wasn't being Boomed now, as Smith
+was up; and so the public got on an omnibus and went to Smith's hall,
+and Bansted Downs faded out.</p>
+
+<p>After that he was to be found all day at the Three Melancholy Geniuses,
+drooping over fours of Irish; and one day his late instructor happened
+to come in and find him thus, with his melancholy nose over the edge of
+his glass.</p>
+
+<p>"Haven't got your Head Above Water, I see?" said the Master Genius.
+"Sorry you haven't Made your Mark."</p>
+
+<p>"I've made a good many," said Downs, pointing to the wet rings on the
+counter.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_643" id="Page_643">[Pg 643]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Ah, that sort of mark's no use&mdash;unless you make it in Company," said
+the Genius.</p>
+
+<div class="figright" style="width: 265px;">
+<img src="images/image644.jpg" width="265" height="450" alt="&quot;HAVEN&#39;T GOT YOUR HEAD ABOVE WATER, I SEE?&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;HAVEN&#39;T GOT YOUR HEAD ABOVE WATER, I SEE?&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>One day, as young Bansted Downs sat in his cistern-cupboard biting his
+nails, a step was heard on the stair, and his late instructor entered.</p>
+
+<p>"I've been all wrong," he said, sitting down on the cistern. "I put you
+all wrong&mdash;I've put all my pupils all wrong. I fell down stairs lately
+and knocked my head, and when I got up I saw everything&mdash;the light broke
+in upon me!"</p>
+
+<p>"Why, you've cut your hair, and you're dressed quite neatly&mdash;I should
+hardly have known you for a Master Genius at all!" exclaimed young
+Bansted Downs.</p>
+
+<p>"I am no longer a Genius&mdash;I am now the M.W.K.A.A.I.&mdash;the Man Who Knows
+All About It. I now know why genius fails to get the Ear of the Public,
+and is not appreciated&mdash;&mdash;"</p>
+
+<p>"Fault of the public&mdash;everybody knew that before," growled young Bansted
+Downs.</p>
+
+<p>"Pardon me, it is not the fault of the poor public, but the fault of the
+system. We&mdash;the entertainers&mdash;have made the mistake of being geniuses;
+whereas we had no business to meddle with genius at all.</p>
+
+<p>"It is the public who ought to have the genius; <i>they</i> should have the
+lively appreciation, the keen sense of humour, the afflatus, and all
+that; and then those who cater for them would not need to trouble about
+those things&mdash;they would only have to cater, and leave the public to
+perceive, by means of their genius, the excellences of the fare
+provided. If a plain person does something, and geniuses perceive
+greatness in it, that's a right state of affairs; but if a genius does
+something great, and plain persons fail to appreciate it, that's a wrong
+state of things, and a waste of material&mdash;-see?"</p>
+
+<p>"And what do you propose to do?" asked young Bansted Downs.</p>
+
+<p>"That's very simple&mdash;just make geniuses of the public. Of course the
+public, having their own affairs to attend to, will not wish to turn
+caterers and originate&mdash;their province is to appreciate, perceive,
+applaud, and pay at the doors&mdash;see? By this system any dullard is
+enabled, without effort, fatigue, or preliminary study, to Make his Mark
+and get his F.I., his E.P., and his H.A.W. A child could use it."</p>
+
+<p>"But," objected young Bansted Downs, "under your system, dullardism
+paying so well, everybody would want to cater for the public, and there
+wouldn't be any audience&mdash;any public."</p>
+
+<p>"Pooh! The system at present in vogue is all I require&mdash;compulsory
+education. Everybody will have to be educated as a genius, except a few
+who will be specially exempted from attendance at the Board schools to
+enable them to lie fallow and fit themselves for originators.</p>
+
+<p>"Of course, you may say that it would not be <i>necessary</i> for the
+entertainer to be dull. Of course it would not; but, as it is not
+necessary for him to be a genius either, there would be a waste of
+public money in educating him as one. In fact, it might be a
+disadvantage for both originator and appreciator to be geniuses, and
+their conceptions might clash and create confusion. It's better for a
+conception to be lighted from one side only, as you get more contrast."</p>
+
+<p>"But would not the genius of the spectator simply perceive the dulness
+of the originator?"</p>
+
+<p>"Not in the least. It's just the sphere of genius to perceive, in a
+given production, excellences which the ordinary observer fails to
+detect; and it's only a question of degree of genius. I take it that
+perfect genius can detect<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_644" id="Page_644">[Pg 644]</a></span> perfect excellence in everything submitted to
+its discrimination. And now, will you be kind enough to come and vote
+for me, as for the furtherance of my scheme I am offering myself as
+Chairman of the School Board?"</p>
+
+<p>In due course, the Man Who Knew All About It was elected to the School
+Board. He secured this by publishing handbills declaring his intention
+to squander the rate-payers' money like water, and provide free food,
+clothing, lodging, sweets, tobacco, drinks, theatres, and pianos to all
+the Board school children and their parents, relatives, and friends. The
+public judged by the proceedings of past candidates, all of whom had
+deliberately broken their promises on coming into office; and they
+concluded that this one would do so as well, and refuse to spend a
+penny. The Board were compelled to choose him as Chairman; and he at
+once commenced his work of reform.</p>
+
+<p>Genius took the place of all the former studies at the Board schools: no
+pupil was permitted to leave until he had passed the fifth standard,
+which turned him out a full-fledged genius; and he had to attend until
+he <i>could</i> pass it, even if he became old and decrepit. This was a wise
+step; for, had this rule been relaxed, those unable to pass the standard
+would have joined the ranks of the originators, and thus flooded the
+market.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image645.jpg" width="450" height="366" alt="&quot;THE GENIUS CLASS AT THE BOARD SCHOOL.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;THE GENIUS CLASS AT THE BOARD SCHOOL.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>Young Bansted Downs now set himself to steadily forgetting all the
+genius he had learned, feeling that it would be nothing but an
+incumbrance in his new career; and he succeeded so well that in the
+course of a few years he had become as dull as ditch-water.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile a new public were growing up, a public of such brilliant
+perceptions&mdash;so great a faculty of appreciation&mdash;that they were quite
+bewildered with the excellences they perceived in everything around
+them.</p>
+
+<p>To take the sense of humour alone: they possessed it to so marvellous an
+extent that they could perceive a joke in the passing cloud,
+facetiousness in the growth of flowers, a choice witticism in the rates
+and taxes, an incentive to mirth in strikes. Not that they were
+incessantly giggling&mdash;that would have argued a something wanting; no,
+they drank in and appreciated and enjoyed the universal humour, and
+their eyes were bright.</p>
+
+<p>So, when young Bansted Downs was middle-aged Bansted Downs he started
+all over again in quite a different way: he just wrote twaddle, and
+painted twaddle, and composed twaddle; and went on to a platform and
+twaddled about twaddle: and the public genius detected the brilliancy
+lurking in it all, and they were in ecstacies.</p>
+
+<p>A terrible thing happened to the Boom Department of the Press. One day
+the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_645" id="Page_645">[Pg 645]</a></span> public arose as one man and remarked that they were capable of
+finding out merit for themselves and no longer required the Department;
+and they took large stones, and bad eggs, and dead cats, and fagots of
+wood, and proceeded to the Boom Department; and it was in vain that the
+head of the Department came out on the balcony and pleaded that the
+Booming System, as practised by the Press, had nothing to do with the
+finding-out of merit; for the public smashed the windows and burned the
+offices, and abolished the Boom Department.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image646.jpg" width="450" height="333" alt="&quot;A CHOICE WITTICISM IN THE RATES AND TAXES.&quot;" title="" />
+<span class="caption">&quot;A CHOICE WITTICISM IN THE RATES AND TAXES.&quot;</span>
+</div>
+
+<p>However, nobody required Booming now, as absence of ability was no
+longer a bar to fame; and things worked far more happily than they ever
+had under the old system. Authors and others no longer pined under want
+of appreciation; on the contrary, they were always wildly surprised at
+the wonderful things the public discovered in their work; and as for the
+public, they were vastly contented.</p>
+
+<p>It's the true system&mdash;there's not a question about that.</p>
+
+<p class="right"><span class="smcap">J. F. Sullivan.</span></p>
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_646" id="Page_646">[Pg 646]</a></span></p>
+<div class="figleft" style="width: 411px;">
+<img src="images/image647.jpg" width="411" height="600" alt="" title="" />
+</div><div class="figright" style="width: 391px;">
+<img src="images/image648.jpg" width="391" height="600" alt="" title="" />
+</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;">
+<img src="images/image649-1.jpg" width="450" height="406" alt="COMPLIMENTARY (A Fact)." title="" />
+<span class="caption">COMPLIMENTARY (A Fact).</span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>GLADYS: "GRANDPA, WHAT ARE THOSE STRINGS MADE OF?"</p>
+
+<p>GRANDPA: "CAT-GUT, MY DEAR."</p>
+
+<p>GLADYS: "WHAT'S THAT?"</p>
+
+<p>GRANDPA (JOKINGLY): "OH, THE INSIDES OF PUSSIES DEAR."</p>
+
+<p>GLADYS (AFTER A PAUSE): "I SUPPOSE THEY FOUND OUT THEY WERE
+GOOD FOR THAT ON ACCOUNT OF THE NOISE CATS MAKE!"</p></div>
+
+<hr style='width: 45%;' />
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;">
+<img src="images/image649-2.jpg" width="600" height="247" alt="TURN THESE UPSIDE DOWN." title="" />
+<span class="caption">TURN THESE UPSIDE DOWN.</span>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_648" id="Page_648">[Pg 648]</a></span></p>
+<h2>INDEX.</h2>
+
+
+<p>
+<span class="linenum">PAGE</span><br />
+ADJUTANT'S LOVE STORY, THE. From the French of <span class="smcap">Le Comte Alfred de Vigny</span><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<i>Illustrations</i> by <span class="smcap">H. R. Millar</span>.)      <span class="linenum">528</span><br />
+<br />
+ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES. By <span class="smcap">A. Conan Doyle.</span><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<i>Illustrations</i> by <span class="smcap">Sidney Paget</span>.)<br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">XIV.&mdash;The Adventure of the Cardboard Box</span>      <span class="linenum">61</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">XV.&mdash;The Adventure of the Yellow Face</span>      <span class="linenum">162</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">XVI.&mdash;The Adventure of the Stockbroker's Clerk</span>      <span class="linenum">281</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">XVII.&mdash;The Adventure of the "Gloria Scott"</span>      <span class="linenum">395</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">XVIII.&mdash;The Adventure of the Musgrave Ritual</span>      <span class="linenum">479</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">XIX.&mdash;The Adventure of the Reigate Squire</span>      <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_601">601</a></span><br />
+<br />
+"AUTHOR! AUTHOR!" By <span class="smcap">E. W. Hornung</span>      <span class="linenum">241</span><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<i>Illustrations</i> by <span class="smcap">W. S. Stacey</span>.)<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+BARNARDO, DR. (<i>See</i> "<span class="smcap">illustrated interviews</span>.")      <span class="linenum">173</span><br />
+<br />
+BEAUTIES:&mdash;<br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;I.&mdash;<span class="smcap">Ladies: The Countess of Annesley, The Misses Hathaway (Twins), Miss Hayter, Miss Lee, Miss Mence</span>      <span class="linenum">74</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;II.&mdash;<span class="smcap">Children: Miss Beaumont, Miss Cross, Miss Dunlop, Miss Marguerite Foster, Miss Serjeant, Miss Waterlow, Miss White, Misses White, Miss Winstead</span>     <span class="linenum">186</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;III.&mdash;<span class="smcap">Ladies: Princess Ahmadee, Madame Arnoldson, Miss Dorothy Dorr, Miss Flo Henderson, Miss Kingsley, Miss Alice Lethbridge, Madame Schirmer-Mapleson, Mlle. del Torre, Miss Webster</span>      <span class="linenum">292</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;IV.&mdash;<span class="smcap">Ladies: Miss Archer, Lady Charles Beresford, Miss Flo Beresford, Miss Branson, Mrs. Brate, Miss Lloyd, Miss Decima Moore, Miss Ripley, Miss Nellie Simmons</span>       <span class="linenum">415</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;V.&mdash;<span class="smcap">Children: Miss Kate Birch, Miss Doris Collins, Miss Erna Collins, Miss Gascoyne Dalziel, Miss Elsie Diedrichs, Miss Gladys Herbert, Miss Dorothy Norcutt, Miss Maude Wallis, Miss Kathleen White</span>      <span class="linenum">525</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;VI.&mdash;<span class="smcap">Ladies: Lady Aberdeen, Miss Ella Banister, Miss C. L. Foote, Miss Friend, Miss L. Harold, Miss A. Hughes, Mrs. Marsh, Miss Alice Ravenscroft, Miss Norah Williams</span>      <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_613">613</a></span><br />
+<br />
+<br />
+CARDS, PECULIAR PLAYING      <span class="linenum">77, 148</span><br />
+<br />
+CHILD'S TEAR, A. From the French of <span class="smcap">Edouard Lemoine</span>      <span class="linenum">95</span><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<i>Illustrations</i> by <span class="smcap">Paul Hardy</span>.)<br />
+<br />
+COURTSHIP OF HALIL, THE. By <span class="smcap">A. F. Burn</span>      <span class="linenum">8</span>4<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<i>Illustrations</i> by <span class="smcap">H. R. Millar</span>.)<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+DARK TRANSACTION, A.    By <span class="smcap">Marianne Kent</span>      <span class="linenum">362</span><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<i>Illustrations</i> by <span class="smcap">Paul Hardy</span>.)<br />
+<br />
+DEAD OF NIGHT, AT. By <span class="smcap">Mrs. Newman</span>      <span class="linenum">498</span><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<i>Illustrations</i> by <span class="smcap">W. B. Wollen</span>.)<br />
+<br />
+DICTATES OF FASHION, FUTURE      <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_551">551</a></span><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_649" id="Page_649">[Pg 649]</a></span>(<i>Written</i> and <i>Illustrated</i> by <span class="smcap">W. Cade Gall</span>.)<br />
+<br />
+FASHION, FUTURE DICTATES OF      <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_551">551</a></span><br />
+<br />
+FURNISS, MR. HARRY. (<i>See</i> "<span class="smcap">Illustrated Interviews</span>.")      <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_571">571</a></span><br />
+<br />
+<br />
+GAME OF CHESS, A. Translated from the French      <span class="linenum">219</span><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<i>Illustrations</i> by <span class="smcap">Paul Hardy</span>.)<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+HANDS. By <span class="smcap">Beckles Willson</span>      <span class="linenum">119, 295</span><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<i>Illustrations</i> from Photographs of Casts.)<br />
+<br />
+HUMANE SOCIETY, ROYAL. With Portraits of Winners of the Medals      <span class="linenum">370, 446</span><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<i>Illustrations</i> from Photographs.)<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+ILLUSTRATED INTERVIEWS. By <span class="smcap">Harry How</span>.<br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;XIX.&mdash;<span class="smcap">The Lord Bishop of Ripon</span>    <span class="linenum">12</span><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<i>Illustrations</i> from Photographs by Messrs. <span class="smcap">Elliott &amp; Fry</span>.)<br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;XX.&mdash;<span class="smcap">Dr. Barnardo</span>      <span class="linenum">173</span><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<i>Illustrations</i> from Photographs by Messrs. <span class="smcap">Elliott &amp; Fry</span>.)<br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;XXI.&mdash;<span class="smcap">Mr. and Mrs. Kendal</span>      <span class="linenum">228</span><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<i>Illustrations</i> by <span class="smcap">Mr. Kendal</span>; and from Photographs by Messrs. <span class="smcap">Elliott &amp; Fry</span>.)<br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;XXII.&mdash;<span class="smcap">Sir Robert Rawlinson</span>      <span class="linenum">513</span><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<i>Illustrations</i> from Drawings and Paintings; and from Photographs by Messrs. <span class="smcap">Elliott &amp; Fry</span>.)<br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;XXIII.&mdash;<span class="smcap">Mr. Harry Furniss</span>      <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_571">571</a></span><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<i>Illustrations</i> by <span class="smcap">Harry Furniss</span>; and from Photographs by Messrs. <span class="smcap">Elliott &amp; Fry</span>.)<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+KENDAL, MR. AND MRS. (<i>See</i> "<span class="smcap">Illustrated Interviews</span>.")      <span class="linenum">228</span><br />
+<br />
+<br />
+LIEUTENANT GAUTHIER.   From the French of <span class="smcap">Jos&eacute; de Campos</span>      <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_616">616</a></span><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<i>Illustrations</i> by <span class="smcap">H. R. Millar</span>.)<br />
+<br />
+LITTLE SURPRISE, A. Adapted from the French of <span class="smcap">A. Dreyfus</span> by <span class="smcap">Constance Beerbohm</span>      <span class="linenum">25</span><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<i>Illustrations</i> by <span class="smcap">W. S. Stacey</span>.)<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+MAJOR'S COMMISSION, THE. By <span class="smcap">W. Clark Russell</span>      <span class="linenum">138</span><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<i>Illustrations</i>by <span class="smcap">W. Christian Symons</span>.)<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+NANKEEN JACKET, THE. From the French of <span class="smcap">Gustave Guesviller</span>      <span class="linenum">418</span><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<i>Illustrations</i> by <span class="smcap">H. R. Millar</span>.)<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+ONE AND TWO. By <span class="smcap">Walter Besant</span>      <span class="linenum">44</span><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<i>Illustrations</i> by <span class="smcap">John G&uuml;lich</span>.)<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+PIERRE AND BAPTISTE. By <span class="smcap">Beckles Willson</span>      <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_547">547</a></span><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<i>Illustrations</i> by <span class="smcap">Paul Hardy</span>.)<br />
+<br />
+PLAYING CARDS, PECULIAR.   By <span class="smcap">George Clulow</span>          <span class="linenum">77, 148</span><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<i>Illustrations</i> from facsimiles of Curious Playing Cards.)<br />
+<br />
+PORTRAITS OF CELEBRITIES AT DIFFERENT TIMES OF THEIR LIVES:&mdash;<br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Abel, Sir Frederick, Bart.</span>      <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_589">589</a></span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Adler, Dr. Hermann</span>      <span class="linenum">278</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Alison, Sir Archibald</span>      <span class="linenum">279</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Battersea, Lord</span>      <span class="linenum">274</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Beresford, Lord Charles</span>      <span class="linenum">393</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Cowen, Frederic H.</span>      <span class="linenum">161</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Furniss, Harry</span>      <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_586">586</a></span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Girard, Miss Dorothea</span>      <span class="linenum">59</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Gould, Rev. S. Baring</span>      <span class="linenum">392</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Hading, Madame Jane</span>      <span class="linenum">280</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Hall&eacute;, Sir Charles</span>      <span class="linenum">277</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Hall&eacute;, Lady</span>      <span class="linenum">276</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Hardy, Miss Iza Duffus</span>      <span class="linenum">473</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Haweis, Rev. H. R.</span>      <span class="linenum">160</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Herkomer, Mr. Hubert, R.A.</span>      <span class="linenum">474</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Houghton, Lord</span>      <span class="linenum">156</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_650" id="Page_650">[Pg 650]</a></span><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Hunter, Colin, A.R.A.</span>      <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_588">588</a></span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Kelvin, Lord</span>      <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_590">590</a></span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Knill, Mr. Stuart (Lord Mayor)</span>      <span class="linenum">60</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Leslie, the Late Fred</span>      <span class="linenum">58</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Lloyd, Edward</span>      <span class="linenum">478</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">MacWhirter, John, R.A.</span>      <span class="linenum">476</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Nicol, Erskine, A.R.A.</span>      <span class="linenum">475</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Orchardson, W. Q., R.A.</span>      <span class="linenum">275</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Pettie, John, R.A.</span>      <span class="linenum">157</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Potter, Mrs. Brown</span>      <span class="linenum">389</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Princess Marie of Edinburgh</span>      <span class="linenum">56</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Prince Ferdinand of Roumania</span>      <span class="linenum">57</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Prince of Wales</span>      <span class="linenum">390</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Princess of Wales</span>      <span class="linenum">391</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Reid, Sir George, P.R.S.A.</span>      <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_587">587</a></span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Roberts, John</span>      <span class="linenum">394</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Robertson, J. Forbes</span>      <span class="linenum">477</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Russell, W. Clark</span>      <span class="linenum">55</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Teck, Duchess of</span>      <span class="linenum">158</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Teck, Duke of</span>      <span class="linenum">159</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Vaughan, Cardinal</span>      <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_591">591</a></span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Vaughan, Cardinal, Father and Brothers of</span>      <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_592">592</a></span><br />
+<br />
+PRINCE OF WALES AT SANDRINGHAM, THE      327<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<i>Illustrations</i> from Photographs by <span class="smcap">Bedford Lemere</span> and <span class="smcap">W. &amp; D. Downey</span>.)<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+QUASTANA THE BRIGAND. From the French of <span class="smcap">Alphonse Daudet</span>      <span class="linenum">124</span><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<i>Illustrations</i> by <span class="smcap">Jean de Pal&eacute;ologue</span>.)<br />
+<br />
+QUEER SIDE OF THINGS, THE:&mdash;<br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Bottle from the Deep Sea, A</span>      <span class="linenum">214</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Children of a Thousand Years</span>      <span class="linenum">542</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Cloaks and Mantles</span>      <span class="linenum">106</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Crocodile Story, A</span>      <span class="linenum">324</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Drinking Vessels of All Ages</span>      <span class="linenum">322</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Dwindling Hour, The</span>      <span class="linenum">98</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Explosion of a Locomotive</span>      <span class="linenum">214</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Horse and Its Occupations, The</span>      <span class="linenum">430</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Hunter and the Bird, The</span>      <span class="linenum">108</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Judge's Penance, The</span>      <span class="linenum">535</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Mandrake Roots</span>      <span class="linenum">105</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Miscellaneous</span>      <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_648">648</a></span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">N.P.M.C., The</span>      <span class="linenum">315</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Old Joe's Picnic</span>      <span class="linenum">423</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Pal's Puzzles</span>      <span class="linenum">104, 215</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Room Papered With Stamps</span>      <span class="linenum">321</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Sagacity of a Dog</span>      <span class="linenum">216</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Story of the King's Idea</span>      <span class="linenum">209</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Tables of a Century</span>      <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_646">646</a></span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Turnip Resembling a Human Hand</span>      <span class="linenum">321</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Use for Genius</span>      <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_639">639</a></span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Vegetable Oddities</span>      <span class="linenum">214, 432</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class="smcap">Who Are These?</span>    <span class="linenum">544</span><br />
+<br />
+<br />
+RAWLINSON, SIR ROBERT. (<i>See</i> "<span class="smcap">Illustrated Interviews</span>.")          <span class="linenum">513</span><br />
+<br />
+RIPON, THE LORD BISHOP OF. (<i>See</i> "<span class="smcap">Illustrated Interviews</span>.")      <span class="linenum">12</span><br />
+<br />
+ROSITA. From the French of <span class="smcap">Pitre Chevalier</span>     <span class="linenum"> 302</span><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<i>Illustrations</i> by <span class="smcap">H. R. Millar</span>.)<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+SANDRINGHAM, THE PRINCE OF WALES AT      <span class="linenum">327</span><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<i>Illustrations</i> from Photographs.)<br />
+<br />
+SHADOW OF THE SIERRAS, IN THE. By <span class="smcap">Iza Duffus Hardy</span>      <span class="linenum">433</span><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<i>Illustrations</i> by <span class="smcap">Paul Hardy</span>.)<br />
+<br />
+SHAFTS FROM AN EASTERN QUIVER. By <span class="smcap">Charles J. Mansford, B.A.</span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;VII.&mdash;<span class="smcap">Margarita, the Bond Queen of the Wandering Dhahs</span>      <span class="linenum">3</span><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;VIII.&mdash;<span class="smcap">The Masked Ruler of the Black Wreckers</span>      <span class="linenum">189</span><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;IX.&mdash;<span class="smcap">Maw Sayah, the Keeper of the Great Burman Nat</span>      <span class="linenum">258</span><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;X.&mdash;<span class="smcap">The Hunted Tribe of Three Hundred Peaks</span>      <span class="linenum">340</span><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;XI.&mdash;<span class="smcap">In Quest of the Lost Galleon</span>      <span class="linenum">453</span><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;XII.&mdash;<span class="smcap">The Daughter of Lovetski the Lost</span>      <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_561">561</a></span><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_651" id="Page_651">[Pg 651]</a></span>(<i>Illustrations</i> by <span class="smcap">A. Pearse</span>.)<br />
+<br />
+SLAVE, A. By <span class="smcap">Leila Hanoum</span>. Translated from a Turkish Story      <span class="linenum">203</span><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<i>Illustrations</i> by <span class="smcap">H. R. Millar</span>.)<br />
+<br />
+SPEAKER'S CHAIR, FROM BEHIND THE.    Viewed by <span class="smcap">H. W. Lucy</span>      <span class="linenum">89, 198, 267, 381, 490, <a href="#Page_624">624</a></span><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<i>Illustrations</i> by <span class="smcap">F. C. Gould</span>.)<br />
+<br />
+STRANGE REUNION, A.    By <span class="smcap">T. G. Atkinson</span>      <span class="linenum">376</span><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<i>Illustrations</i> by <span class="smcap">A. J. Johnson</span>.)<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+TYPES OF ENGLISH BEAUTY.   (<i>See</i> "<span class="smcap">Beauties</span>.")<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+WEATHERCOCKS AND VANES      <span class="linenum">351</span><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<i>Written</i> and <i>Illustrated</i> by <span class="smcap">Warrington Hogg</span>.)<br />
+<br />
+WEDDING GIFT, A.    By <span class="smcap">Leonard Outram</span>      <span class="linenum">111</span><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<i>Illustrations</i> by <span class="smcap">Paul Hardy</span>.)<br />
+<br />
+WORK OF ACCUSATION, A.    By <span class="smcap">Harry How</span>      <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_633">633</a></span><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<i>Illustrations</i> by <span class="smcap">John G&uuml;lich</span>.)<br />
+<br />
+<br />
+ZIG-ZAGS AT THE ZOO.    By <span class="smcap">Arthur Morrison</span>.<br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;VII.&mdash;<span class="smcap">Zig-Zag Cursorean</span>      <span class="linenum">35</span><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;VIII.&mdash;<span class="smcap">Zig-Zag Phocine</span>      <span class="linenum">129</span><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;IX.&mdash;<span class="smcap">Zig-Zag Conkavian</span>      <span class="linenum">248</span><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;X.&mdash;<span class="smcap">Zig-Zag Ophidian</span>      <span class="linenum">407</span><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;XI.&mdash;<span class="smcap">Zig-Zag Marsupial</span>      <span class="linenum">464</span><br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;XII.&mdash;<span class="smcap">Zig-Zag Accipitral</span>      <span class="linenum"><a href="#Page_593">593</a></span><br />
+<br />
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;(<i>Illustrations</i> by <span class="smcap">J. A. Shepherd</span>.)<br />
+</p>
+
+<p>GEORGE NEWNES, LIMITED. 8, 9, 10 AND 11, SOUTHAMPTON STREET, AND EXETER
+STREET, STRAND. W.C.</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Strand Magazine, Volume V, Issue
+30, June 1893, by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STRAND MAGAZINE ***
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+</pre>
+
+</body>
+</html>
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Strand Magazine, Volume V, Issue 30,
+June 1893, 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: The Strand Magazine, Volume V, Issue 30, June 1893
+       An Illustrated Monthly
+
+Author: Various
+
+Editor: George Newnes
+
+Release Date: January 7, 2008 [EBook #24188]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STRAND MAGAZINE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Victorian/Edwardian Pictorial Magazines,
+Jonathan Ingram, Josephine Paolucci and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+THE STRAND
+
+AN ILLUSTRATED MONTHLY
+
+
+Vol. 5, Issue. 30.
+
+June 1893
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: "THE HEAD BOOK-KEEPER STEPPED OUT OF THE SAFE."
+
+(_Pierre and Baptiste._)]
+
+
+
+
+Pierre and Baptiste
+
+BY BECKLES WILLSON.
+
+
+I once knew two industrious mechanics named Pierre and Baptiste. They
+dwelt in a ramshackle tenement at Sault aux Beloeuil, where each had
+half-a-dozen children to support, besides their wives; who, it is
+grievous to relate, were drones. They were only nominally acquainted
+with that godly art commonly associated with charwomen.
+
+Pierre and Baptiste were hard workers. They worked far into the night
+and, occasionally, the thin mists of dawn had begun to break on the
+narrow city pavements before their labours would cease. No one could
+truthfully say that theirs was not a hard-earned pillow. Sometimes they
+did not toil in vain. It depended largely upon the police.
+
+It was early one November that this horny-handed pair planned the
+burglary of a certain safe located in a wholesale establishment in St.
+Mark Street. On the particular evening that Pierre and Baptiste hit upon
+for the deed, the head book-keeper had been having a wrangle with his
+accounts.
+
+"I can't make head or tail of this!" he declared to his employer, the
+senior member of the firm, "yet I am convinced everything must be right.
+An error of several hundred dollars has been carried over from each
+daily footing, but where the error begins or ends, I'm blessed if I can
+find out."
+
+[Illustration: "THE HEAD BOOK-KEEPER HAD BEEN HAVING A WRANGLE WITH HIS
+ACCOUNTS."]
+
+The fact was that the monthly sales had been unusually heavy, and a page
+of the balance had been mislaid. The head book-keeper spent upwards of
+an hour in casting up both the entries of himself and his subordinates
+after the establishment had closed its doors for the day.
+
+Then he went home to supper, determined to return and locate the
+deficit, if he didn't get a wink of sleep until morning.
+
+Book-keepers, it must be borne in mind, have highly sensitive organisms,
+which are susceptible to the smallest atom reflecting upon their probity
+or skill. At half-past eight the book-keeper returned and commenced anew
+his critical calculations. He worked precisely three hours and a half;
+at the end of which period he suddenly clapped his hand to his forehead
+and exclaimed:--
+
+"Idiot! Why haven't you looked in the safe for a missing sheet? Ten
+chances to one they have been improperly numbered!"
+
+He turned over the pages of the balance on his desk, and, sure enough,
+the usual numerical mark or designation in the upper left-hand corner
+which should follow eleven was missing. Page twelve, in all likelihood,
+had slipped into some remote corner of the safe.
+
+The safe was a large one, partially receding into the wall and
+containing all the papers, documents, and several day receipts in cash
+and drafts of the firm.
+
+The head book-keeper, in his efforts at unearthing the lost page of the
+cash balance, was obliged to intrude his entire person into the safe.
+Fearful lest the candle he held should attract attention from the
+street, showing out as it did against the black recesses of the safe,
+upon entering he drew the door slightly ajar.
+
+As he stepped in the tail of his coat caught on an angle of the huge
+riveted lock; the massive gate swung to as if it weighed no more than a
+pound, and the book-keeper was a prisoner.
+
+He heard a resonant click--that was all. His candle went out.
+
+The book-keeper at the outset lost his presence of mind. He fought like
+a caged animal. He first exerted almost superhuman strength against the
+four sides of the iron tomb. Then his body collapsed and, not for an
+instant losing consciousness, he found himself sitting in a partially
+upright posture, unable to so much as stir a muscle.
+
+It was almost at the same moment, although hours seemed to have passed,
+that the drum of his ear, now abnormally sensitive, was almost split
+into fragments. A frightful monotonous clangour rent the interior of the
+safe.
+
+[Illustration: "HE STEPPED IN."]
+
+The book-keeper used to observe afterwards that a single second's
+deviation of characteristic thought and he would have gone mad. Stronger
+minds in a parallel situation would have indeed collapsed. But a weaker
+man can never confront the inevitable, but clings more stubbornly to
+hope. They are only weak individualities who, in the act of drowning,
+catch at straws.
+
+As the book-keeper felt himself gradually growing faint for want of air
+to breathe, his revivified hope led him to deliberately crash his fist
+into the woodwork with which the interior of the safe was fitted, in
+secretaire fashion, one drawer being built above another. This gave him
+a few additional cubic feet of air.
+
+As may have been conjectured, the noise which smote the book-keeper's
+ear was that of a drill. Although acutely discerned within, the sound
+was practically smothered on the outside of the vault.
+
+At one end of the drill was a cavity, rapidly growing larger, in one of
+the steel panels. At its other end was a heavy, warty fist, part of the
+anatomy of Baptiste, the industrious mechanic. Baptiste held the drill
+while his comrade, Pierre, pounded it in.
+
+Soon the two burglars became aware that some sort of animal commotion
+was going on within the safe. It nearly drove them into convulsions of
+astonishment. Baptiste was so startled that he dropped the drill.
+
+"It is a ghost," he said.
+
+Baptiste was for throwing up the job uncompromisingly on the spot, but
+this proposal met with obstacles. His fellow workman, who was of stiffer
+courage, rejected it with scorn, as savouring too much of the
+superstitious. Pierre had a large family to support, he argued. He spoke
+frankly. They could not afford to throw away the opportunities of
+Providence. To his friend and co-labourer, the burden of his remarks
+was:--
+
+"_Lache!_ Go hon! You make me tired wiz yer ghosts an' tings. Let's not
+have no beast foolin'--see? De job is commence: _Allons!_"
+
+The upshot of this was that Pierre and Baptiste went back to work. At
+the third crack of the drill, Pierre crossed himself, and said:--
+
+"Baptiste, dere's a man in dat safe!"
+
+Both men grew pale as death at the very suggestion. Baptiste, for
+instance, was so frightened he couldn't utter a syllable. His tongue
+clove to the roof of his mouth. However, Pierre, as usual, was the first
+to recover. He applied his ear, first to the lock and then to the
+drill-hole.
+
+"Hey, in dere!" he cried, yet not so loud as to be heard on the
+side-walk. To this there came a faint response--a very faint shout
+indeed; it sounded as if it were a mile away:--
+
+"For God's sake, give me air! I am locked in here. Try and burst open
+the safe!"
+
+The two burglars did not stop to talk, but went at once to work as if
+their own lives depended on the result, instead of the life of the
+mysterious occupant of the vault. In less than four minutes they had a
+hole, somewhat smaller than the business end of a collar-button, knocked
+into the panel of the vault.
+
+Then Pierre and Baptiste paused to wipe the sweat from their brows. The
+man inside breathed.
+
+It was now that the pair began to muse on the denouement. Could this be
+a member of the firm or an employe? This hypothesis jeopardized the
+success of the night's adventure, unless, when they had permitted the
+prisoner to emerge, they bound and gagged him into silence.
+
+On the other hand, this course would have an ugly look. If he resisted
+it might mean murder in the end; whereas, if they did not let him out at
+all, they would stand no chance of profiting by the pecuniary contents
+of the safe. Besides, as the man could scarcely live thus until morning,
+they would be responsible for his taking off. Thus reasoned Pierre and
+Baptiste.
+
+[Illustration: "BOTH MEN GREW PALE AS DEATH."]
+
+These were not highly comforting reflections, but there was still
+another and a better in reserve. What if, after all, the man were
+himself a felon? Might he not be a companion crib-cracker? In that case
+they would merely have to divide the spoils.
+
+"Hey, in dere," cried Pierre, suddenly struck with an idea. "What is de
+combination hof de safe?"
+
+"Fifteen--three--seventy-three!" came back in sepulchral tones.
+
+It was evidently growing harder and harder to draw breath through the
+tiny aperture.
+
+Thus it transpired that at the expiration of fifteen seconds the lock of
+the vault gave back the same resonant click it had rendered eight
+minutes previously. Thanks to the timely advent of Pierre and Baptiste
+it opened as lightly, as airily, and as decisively as it had closed 480
+seconds before on the unhappy accountant.
+
+The head book-keeper gasped once or twice, but without any assistance
+stepped out into the free air. He was very pale and his dress was much
+rent and disordered when his feet touched the floor. But this pallor
+quickly made way for a red flush at perceiving the two burglars, with
+the implements of their profession strewn around them.
+
+Meanwhile Pierre and Baptiste themselves stood transfixed by the sheer
+novelty of the situation.
+
+Without any kind of speech or warning, or without making any attempt at
+bravado, the book-keeper walked deliberately to his desk and rang an
+electric call for the police. Simultaneously it seemed, for so rapid and
+quiet was the action, he opened a drawer, took out a small revolver, and
+covered both burglars with a fatal precision. As he did so he uttered
+these remarkable words:--
+
+"Gentlemen, I would, indeed, be the basest of men if I did not feel
+profoundly grateful for the service you have just rendered me. I shall
+always regard you as any right-minded man should regard those who have
+saved his life with imminent peril to themselves or, which is just the
+same, to their liberty. Any demand in reason you make of me I shall make
+an effort to perform--but my duty to my employers I regard as
+_paramount_. I have accumulated a little money, and with it I propose to
+engage the best counsel in your defence, which is certainly marked by
+mitigating circumstances. If, on the other hand, you are convicted----"
+
+Here the officers of justice entered, having broken open the door with a
+crash.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+Future Dictates of Fashion
+
+BY W. CADE GALL.
+
+
+An elderly gentleman of our acquaintance, whose reading has been rather
+desultory than profound, and tending rather to the quaint and
+speculative, was astonished recently at coming across a volume in his
+library of whose very existence he had been completely unaware. This
+volume was oblong in shape, was bound in mauve morocco, and was called
+"Past Dictates of Fashion; by Cromwell Q. Snyder, Vestamentorum Doctor."
+
+Glancing his eye downwards past a somewhat flippant sub-title, the
+elderly gentleman came, with intense amazement, to understand that the
+date of this singular performance was 1993. Other persons at a similar
+juncture would have pinched themselves to see if they were awake, or
+have tossed the book into the street as an uncanny thing. But our
+elderly gentleman being of an inquisitive and acquisitive turn of mind,
+despite his quaintness, recognised the fact that if he was not of the
+twentieth century the volume obviously was; seized pen and paper, and
+began to make notes with the speed of lightning. Being also something of
+a draughtsman he was able to embellish his notes with sketches from the
+engravings with which "Past Dictates of Fashion" was copiously
+furnished. These sketches appear with the present article.
+
+Fashion in dress, according to the twentieth century author,
+notwithstanding its apparent caprice, has always been governed by
+immutable laws. But these laws were not recognised in the benighted
+epoch in which we happen to live at present. On the contrary, Fashion is
+thought a whim, a sort of shuttlecock for the weak-minded of both sexes
+to make rise and fall, bound and rebound with the battledore
+called--social influence. But it will interest a great many people to
+learn that Fashion assumed the dignity of a science in 1940. Ten years
+later it was taken up by the University of Dublin. By the science as
+taught by the various Universities later on were explained those points
+in the history, manners, and literature of our own ancestors which were
+formerly obscure and, in fact, unknown. They were also, by certain
+strict rules, enabled to foretell the attire of posterity. Here is a
+curious passage from the introductory chapter to the book:--
+
+"Cigars went out of fashion twenty years ago. Men and women consumed so
+much tobacco that their healths were endangered. The laws of Nature were
+powerless to cope with the evil. Not so the laws of Fashion, which at
+once abated it. It will, however, return in thirty-one years. In 1790
+Nature commanded men to bathe. They laughed at Nature. In 1810 Fashion
+did the same thing. Men complied, and daily cold baths became
+established. In 1900 it was pushed to extremes. The ultra-sect cut holes
+in the ice and plunged into the water. The fashion changed. For forty
+years only cads bathed."
+
+The following table is also interesting, and should be borne in mind in
+considering the accompanying cuts. It professes to exhibit the
+sartorial characteristics of an epoch:--
+
+           TABLE OF WAVES.
+
+                    Type.        Tendency.
+1790 to 1815     Angustorial    Wobbling
+1815 "  1840     Severe         Recuperative
+1840 "  1875     Latorial       Decided
+1875 "  1890     Tailor-made    Opaque
+1890 "  1915     Ebullient      Bizarre
+1915 "  1940     Hysterical     Angustorial
+
+[Illustration: 1893]
+
+[Illustration: 1905]
+
+The first plate in the book is dated 1893, and serves as a frontispiece.
+The costumes of the lady and gentleman are familiar enough, although we
+note with surprise that the gentleman's coat-talks seem to have a
+crinoline cast, and if the turned-up bottoms of his trousers are a
+little mortifying, it is atoned for by a triumphant attitude which
+disarms hypercriticism. Also the lady's posture makes it difficult for
+us to tell whether it is a stick or an umbrella she is carrying.
+
+[Illustration: 1908]
+
+There is a pictorial hiatus of some years, but the text notes that
+crinoline for women enjoyed a sway of some years' duration. For, taking
+the tracings from the plates in the order in which they are given in the
+book, we find a subdued form of the article in the female costume for
+1905. The ladies may well regard this plate as astounding. There is even
+a suggestion of "bloomer" about its nether portion, and if the hat is
+not without precedent in history, the waist is little short of
+revolutionary.
+
+[Illustration: 1910]
+
+The next plate displays a gentleman's habit for the year 1908. The
+tailors, fifteen years hence, seemed to have borrowed, in the
+construction of the coat, very liberally from the lady's mantle of 1893.
+Apropos of this and the ensuing three plates, it is pleasing to be told,
+as we are by the author of this book, that the long reign of black is
+doomed. Towards the close of April, 1898, Lord Arthur Lawtrey appeared
+in the Park attired literally in purple and fine linen, _i.e._, in a
+violet coat, with pale heliotrope trousers.
+
+[Illustration: 1902, 1911-12]
+
+Yet, in spite of the opposition to Lord Arthur, the wave was due, and
+the affection for colour spread. The new century, at its birth, saw
+black relegated to the past--also to the future. This was midway in the
+Ebullient Age. Pent up for decades, mankind naturally began to slop over
+with sartorial enthusiasm. In 1920 its _bizarrerie_ became offensive,
+and an opposition crusade was directed against it. Something had to be
+conceded. Trousers, which had been wavering between nautical buttons and
+gallooned knees--or, in the vernacular of the period, a sail three
+sheets in the wind and a flag at half-mast--were the items sacrificed.
+Knee-breeches enjoyed vogue for a time, but only for a time; for they
+vanished suddenly in 1930 and were replaced by tights or shapes. Boots
+made way for Elizabethan slippers. Hats had long since gone the way of
+the superannuated. Taught by the Darwinian theory, society discovered
+whence its tendency to baldness originated. They had recourse by degrees
+to flexible tiles of extraordinary cut.
+
+[Illustration: 1912]
+
+[Illustration: 1912]
+
+A further glance at the costume for the swells between 1902 and 1912
+reveals the existence of an entirely novel adjunct to male attire. Silk
+bows have been worn about the neck for nearly, if not quite, a century,
+but never in the body of the attire. It is true the gentleman as early
+as 1910 adorns his nether garments with a plain silk band, but in the
+elderly party of 1911 he has assumed gay ribbons for his shoes as well
+as at his knees and throat. In this plate we greet the presence of an
+unmistakable umbrella as a good omen. But it is only a short-lived
+rapture, for the spruce young party in the next sketch is balancing
+lightly between thumb and forefinger what we take to be nothing more or
+less than a shepherd's crook. This is hardly an edifying prospect. Yet
+if we do not altogether mistake the two wing-shaped objects projecting
+from his person, it is not the only feature of gentlemen's fashions
+twenty years hence which will occasion a shock. Nor must we overlook the
+frivolity of the lady of the same period who is doing her utmost to look
+pleasant under the most trying conditions. Yet it must be confessed that
+in spite of its intricate novelty and perplexity, the costume must still
+be called plain. One might be forgiven for surmising that the
+kerchief-shaped article covering a portion of the lady's bust is formed
+of riveted steel, for surely nothing else could support the intolerable
+load she is so blandly carrying off.
+
+Female costume seems to have always been regulated by the same waves and
+rules which governed male costume, but in a different degree. In the
+Ebullient period it is chiefly distinguished by head-dress and the total
+abolition of stays. Crinoline, in spite of certain opposition, enjoyed a
+slight revival in the present day, and in 1897 the divided skirt
+threatened to spread universally. But it passed off, and nothing of a
+radical order was attempted in this direction until the revolution which
+brought in trousers for women in 1942.
+
+Meantime, in the next plate of a lady's costume, which is dated 1922, we
+have presented a very rational and beautiful style of dress. The skirt,
+it is true, is short enough to alarm prim contemporary dames, and it is
+scarcely less assuring to find in the whole of the remaining plates only
+three periods when it seems to have got longer. But doubtless the very
+ample cloak, which is so long that it even trails upon the ground,
+extenuated and in some degree justified its shortness.
+
+[Illustration: 1922]
+
+[Illustration: 1920]
+
+[Illustration: 1926]
+
+The plate dated 1920 exhibits a very gorgeous and yet altogether simple
+set of garments for the male of that period. We are told that the upper
+portion was of crimson plush, and the lower part of a delicate pink,
+with white stockings and orange boots. It were well had the leaders of
+fashion stopped at this, but it would appear that either their thirst
+for novelty was insatiable or the Hysterical Wave too strong for them,
+for in the incredibly short space of six years fashion had reached the
+stage depicted in the following plate. Yet, even then, the depth of
+folly and ugliness does not appear to have been sounded, for three years
+later, in 1929, we are favoured with a plate of what is presumably a
+husband and wife on their way to church or perchance upon a shopping
+excursion. The lady is evidently looking archly back to see if anybody
+is observing what a consummate guy her spouse is making of himself, for
+with all her sartorial short-comings she has certainly the best of the
+bargain. The prudes, too, seemed to have gained their point, for the
+skirt is considerably less scanty in the region of the ankles.
+
+[Illustration: 1929]
+
+This skirt seems to have been rather a weak point with our posterity of
+the female persuasion, for in the next three or four plates we find it
+rising and falling with the habitual incorrigibility of a shilling
+barometer. The Oriental influence is easily traced in the fashions from
+1938 to 1945, but it cannot but make the judicious grieve to note that
+trousers seem to have been adopted by the women at the same time that
+they were discarded by the men.
+
+[Illustration: 1935]
+
+[Illustration: 1938]
+
+A further detail which might interest the student concerns the revival
+of lace, which transpired so early as 1905. Curiously enough, this
+dainty adjunct to the attire had fallen into desuetude among women. More
+curiously still, it remained for the sterner sex to revive it. For it
+was in that year that the backbone of stiff white collars and cuffs was
+broken. A material being sought which would weather the existing
+atmospheric conditions, it was yielded in lace, which continued in vogue
+for at least two generations.
+
+[Illustration: 1940]
+
+[Illustration: 1945]
+
+If we look for the greatest donkey in the entire collection, it is
+obvious that we shall find him in the middle-aged party of 1936, who is
+gadding about in inflated trunks and with a fan in his hand. If it were
+not for the gloves and polka-dot neck-wear we should assume that this
+costume was a particularly fantastic bathing-suit. The youth of the
+ensuing year, in the next plate, is probably a son of the foregoing
+personage, for it is not difficult to detect a strong family likeness.
+As to the costume itself for 1937, barring the shaved head and
+Caledonian cap, there is nothing particular to be urged against it. It
+seems clearly a revival of the dress of the Middle Ages.
+
+[Illustration: 1936]
+
+[Illustration: 1937]
+
+[Illustration: 1945]
+
+It is at least consoling to feel that only a very small minority of
+those who read this is destined to enliven our thoroughfares with such
+grotesque images as is furnished by the plate for 1945. The confidently
+asinine demeanour of this youth is hardly relieved by the absurdity of a
+watch suspended by a chain from the crown of his hat. That society
+protested against this aspect of idiocy is evinced by the harmonious
+costume for 1950, in which a complete revolution is to be noted. We
+hasten to observe that the latter plate--the one for 1948--is that of a
+clergyman.
+
+[Illustration: 1950]
+
+[Illustration: 1946]
+
+[Illustration: 1948]
+
+There is very little beauty about the lady's costume for 1946, or in
+that of the child in the plate. That for 1950 is a great improvement.
+The exaggerated chignon has disappeared, and two seasons later we find
+the costume fascinating to a degree, although certainly partaking more
+of the male than of the female order of dress. Without the cape it is
+not so captivating, as shown by the plate dated 1955-6, where both a
+lady and gentleman are shown, although to accord praise to either's
+hideous style of head-dress would be to abandon permanently all
+reputation for taste.
+
+[Illustration: 1950]
+
+[Illustration: 1952]
+
+[Illustration: 1955-6]
+
+The policeman shown in the drawing for 1960 seems to have a very easy
+time of it, for no man's person can be considered in danger from the mob
+who habitually offers so many _points a saisir_ as this policeman's head
+displays. We may likewise suspect the military gentleman depicted in the
+plate for 1965. It is not customary in the present day for army officers
+to affect umbrellas, but seventy years hence it may be found necessary
+to protect one's head-dress.
+
+[Illustration: 1960]
+
+[Illustration: 1965]
+
+[Illustration: 1965]
+
+Mawkish describes the attire of the civilian of the same year, but in
+1970 we notice a distinct change for the better, although personally
+many of us would doubtless strenuously object to wearing neckties of the
+magnitude here portrayed. In 1975 costume seems to have taken a step
+backward, and the literary young gentleman, who is the hero of the
+engraving, may well be carrying about his MSS. inside his umbrella.
+Whatever may be the merits of the spring fashions for 1978, it would
+appear to have been universal (to speak of the future in the past
+tense), for both these young gallants are dressed precisely alike. Of
+the three remaining designs, that of 1984 appears to us to exhibit the
+contour of the lady's figure most generously, and to have certain
+agreeable and distinctive traits of its own which are not only lacking
+in the gentleman's apparel, but are absent from the inane conception
+which appears to have obtained vogue five years later.
+
+[Illustration: 1970]
+
+[Illustration: 1975]
+
+[Illustration: 1978]
+
+[Illustration: 1984]
+
+As to the last plate in the series, we can only remark that if the
+character of our male posterity after four or five generations is to be
+as effeminate as its attire, the domination by the fair sex cannot be
+many centuries distant. The gentleman appears to be lost in
+contemplation of a lighted cigar. If he possessed the gift of seeing
+himself as others now see him, he would probably transfer his attentions
+to another and not less contiguous quarter.
+
+[Illustration: Spring and Summer Fashions, 1932.]
+
+In a general review of the costumes of the forthcoming century the
+Doctor observes:--
+
+"The seventeenth is famous as the brown; the eighteenth is with us the
+yellow; and the nineteenth we term the black century. I am asked my
+opinion of the twentieth. It is motley. It has seen the apotheosis of
+colour. Yet in worshipping colour we do not confound the order of
+things. As is the twentieth, so was the fifteenth."
+
+The author furthermore observes that "the single article of apparel
+which stands out most silhouetted against the background of the 19th
+century's dress is its hard, shiny, black head-gear. It is without a
+parallel. It is impossible for us to conceive of a similar article
+surviving for so long a period; and I venture to say, versed as I am in
+the science, nothing more absurd and irredeemably inappropriate, or more
+openly violating in texture and contour every rational idea on the
+subject, was ever launched. In 1962 the neck was left bare, in the
+neglige fashion, in imitation of Butts, the aesthete who the year
+previously had discovered the North Pole. In 1970, however, ruffs were
+resumed and are still worn, and I regret to say are growing in
+magnitude, until they threaten to eclipse precedent."
+
+At this juncture the notes and nap together terminated, for our elderly
+gentleman woke up.
+
+[Illustration: 1989]
+
+[Illustration: 1993]
+
+
+
+
+_Shafts from an Eastern Quiver._
+
+XII.--THE DAUGHTER OF LOVETSKI THE LOST.
+
+BY CHARLES J. MANSFORD, B.A.
+
+
+I.
+
+"Our journey seems to have no end, Harold," remarked Denviers, as he
+lashed the horses which drew our sledge over the dreary plain; "for a
+week we have been pressing on, night and day almost, in the hope of
+coming across the hut near the road over which the exiles pass. If that
+mujik told us the truth, we certainly ought to have seen it by this
+time."
+
+"We have had a long, desolate ride since we parted with him," I
+assented; "yet the snow lies in such drifts at times that we can hardly
+be surprised to find ourselves still driving onwards."
+
+"See, sahibs!" exclaimed Hassan, as he pointed to where the snow-clad
+plain was at last broken by a distant forest of stunted pines. "There is
+surely the landmark of which the mujik spoke, and the peasant woman's
+dwelling cannot be far off."
+
+After wandering through the outlying provinces of China, we determined
+to visit the vast plains beyond, being anxious to see a Russian mine. To
+all our requests for such permission we met with refusals, until
+Denviers pressed a number of roubles into the hand of an official, who
+eventually helped us to effect our purpose, after evincing some
+reluctance. Staying a few days after this at a peasant's hut, we had
+been fortunate enough to win his goodwill, and it was in consequence of
+what he told us that we promised to undertake our present expedition.
+
+[Illustration: "A DESOLATE RIDE."]
+
+No sooner did the keen eyes of Hassan discover the forest far ahead than
+we dashed onwards quicker than ever, as our exhaled breath froze in icy
+particles and the biting wind struck right through the heavy sheepskin
+wraps which we had purchased on entering Russia. Away across the snow
+our foam-flecked horses sped, until we saw the blue smoke curling upward
+in the frosty air from a low log hut, situated so that the pine forest
+sheltered it somewhat from the icy winds.
+
+"Someone evidently lives here," said Denviers, as he beat with the
+handle of his whip against the low door. We heard a footstep cross the
+floor, then the noise of a bar being removed as a woman opened the door
+cautiously and peered into our faces. Bent as she was with age, with
+hair that hung in white masses about her shoulders, there was an
+unsubdued look which rested upon us from her dark eyes that contrasted
+forcibly with the dull, patient glance of the average Russian peasant.
+
+"Who is it crossing the plains? Are you servants of the Czar?" she
+asked, in a tone of hesitation at our unexpected appearance, and
+glancing strangely at Hassan, who had secured our steeds and joined us.
+
+"We are travellers crossing the Siberian wastes with our guide, and
+come to you for shelter," I answered, although we had a deeper purpose
+in visiting her.
+
+"It is yours," the woman replied, and having shaken our sheepskin wraps,
+we entered the hut and accepted the invitation to gather about the
+pine-wood fire which burnt in one corner of the rude dwelling.
+
+"You are not a Russian peasant?" remarked Denviers, in a tone of
+inquiry, for the woman spoke English with some fluency.
+
+"I am not, for my people are the Lost Ones, of whom you may have heard,"
+she answered, with a dreary smile.
+
+"We do not understand you," Denviers responded, as we waited for her
+explanation.
+
+"If you were men of this country my words would be lucid enough. Among
+all those who were overcome in the many Polish struggles for liberty,
+none have ever returned who once trod the road by which the exiles
+passed to join those whom we call Our Lost."
+
+"You have a motive for living here?" I remarked quietly, watching
+attentively to see what effect my words would have upon her.
+
+"I am friendless and alone, choosing rather to dwell here within sight
+of the way to Tomsk, than in the great city from which I came. The Czar
+is merciful, and permits this."
+
+"Then the mujik who directed us here was mistaken," I persisted. "He
+related strange stories to us of fugitives, whom the peasants
+whisper----"
+
+"Hush!" she cried, looking nervously round. "What was the mujik's name?"
+For reply I placed in her hand a scrap of paper, upon which the man had
+scrawled a message. She glanced keenly at us after reading the missive,
+then answered:--
+
+"He may be mistaken in you, for you are Englishmen, and do not
+understand these things. A piece of black bread--what is it that it
+should be denied to an enemy, even of the Czar, who has escaped from the
+mines and wanders for refuge over these frozen wastes?"
+
+"You may trust us fully in this matter," said Denviers. "We have given
+our word to the mujik to render all the help we can."
+
+"It is a terrible day to traverse the plain," the woman replied, as she
+rose and threw open the rough door to the icy blast, which was only
+imperfectly kept out before. We followed to where she stood, then
+watched as she raised her hand and pointed at a distant object.
+
+"See!" the woman cried, bitterly; "yonder pine cross marks the spot
+where a brave man fell, he who was the lover of the daughter of
+Lovetski, one of our Lost Ones. By it, before the day is ended, will
+pass the long train of exiles guarded by the soldiery and headed by the
+one who hates to see that monument of his own misdeeds, but fears to
+remove it, for, persecuting the living, he dreads the dead." She closed
+and barred the door again; then, after some hesitation, spoke of the one
+to help whom we had gone so far.
+
+"It was the night of a masquerade at the Winter Palace, long to be
+remembered by many, for on the following day another rising of the Poles
+had been planned to take place. A number of the leading citizens of St.
+Petersburg were involved in it, but so well apparently was their secret
+kept, that they ventured to accept the invitations issued to them. Amid
+the mad revel the plotters moved, making occasionally a furtive sign of
+recognition to each other, or venturing at times to whisper as they
+passed the single word which told of all their hopes and
+fears--'To-morrow!' Chief among them was Count Lovetski, who murmured
+the watch-word more hopefully than any of those concerned whenever his
+keen eyes searched out those sworn to take part in the revolt so near at
+hand.
+
+"For three hours the gay crowd moved through the salons, then Lovetski,
+as he leant against a carved pillar, saw one of the revellers who was
+clad in strange attire approach several of the masqueraders and
+smilingly whisper something in their ears. At last the Count saw the
+stranger move close to himself, and a moment after he heard a mocking
+laugh from behind the black mask, as the unknown one stooped and uttered
+the preconcerted word. Lovetski looked doubtfully at the man's sombre
+garb, for the glance from his eyes was by no means reassuring.
+
+"'To-morrow!' repeated the masker. 'Count Lovetski, you do not respond.
+Have you forgotten?'
+
+"'Lower your voice, or we shall be heard by others,' said the Count,
+with a warning gesture. 'Who are you?'
+
+"'One of the three hundred citizens who are sworn to revolt to-morrow.
+The appointed day is fast drawing near, for in ten minutes the
+great clock will chime the midnight hour, and then, Count
+Lovetski--_Siberia!_'
+
+"His listener stared in blank amazement, then, regaining his composure,
+he replied:--
+
+"'So the plot is discovered? I am no coward. When is it settled for me
+to set out?'
+
+"'At the last stroke of the hour a drosky will await you at the main
+entrance. The palace is guarded by the soldiery. The others do not start
+immediately; you are the leader, and will be ready, doubtless.'
+
+"'Quite,' answered Lovetski, for he knew resistance would be useless. He
+quietly passed his sword to the masker, who took it, smiled again, and
+disappeared in the crowd. One by one the followers of the Count were
+singled out by the strange messenger of the Czar, and when the
+masquerade was over three hundred exiles followed the track of the
+sledge in which their leader had been hurried away a couple of hours
+before them on the long, dreary journey to Tomsk.
+
+[Illustration: "SIBERIA!"]
+
+"Lovetski was refused the privilege of communicating his whereabouts to
+his wife, who shortly after this event died, leaving their daughter to
+the care of strangers. Before long a rumour reached the capital that the
+Count had been shot while attempting to escape in disguise, and this was
+eventually found to be true.
+
+"Scarcely had Marie Lovetski reached womanhood when she joined a
+political movement, fired with a mad resolve to avenge her father's
+death, and within a year her name appeared among those on the list of
+suspects, whose every action was closely observed. A Russian officer of
+high rank, Paul Somaloff, who had more than once made her an offer of
+marriage, begged her to remember the fate which overtook Count Lovetski,
+but the bare mention of it only made the woman more inexorable. The end
+which everyone foretold soon came, for, seated one day in the midst of
+treasonable correspondence, Marie Lovetski was surprised by three
+gendarmes, who burst into her apartment. She tore the letter into
+fragments before they could stop her, then scattered the pieces over the
+floor. One of the gendarmes, motioning to his companions to pick them
+up, moved towards her and attempted her arrest. For one moment the woman
+stood at bay, then thrust the cold barrel of a pistol into the
+gendarme's ear.
+
+"'Raise but a hand or move an inch nearer and I will shoot you!' she
+cried, warningly. Her would-be captor shrunk back, and before he had
+recovered from his surprise Marie Lovetski darted past him towards the
+door. She seized the handle to wrench it open, then saw that all was
+lost. The door was locked and the gendarme had removed the key. There
+was a fierce struggle, in which one of the officers was dangerously
+wounded, but eventually they secured her, and within two months Marie
+Lovetski set out to traverse the same dreary road over which the Count
+had gone long before when she was a mere child.
+
+"Ivan Rachieff, the masquerader who had whispered into Count Lovetski's
+ear the fate to which he was consigned, was at that time a young attache
+at the Court of the Czar. The zeal which he displayed in hunting down
+the autocrat's enemies rapidly brought promotion, so that when Marie
+Lovetski was exiled he had risen to be a general of the Russ army, and
+specially chosen for the duty of heading the Cossacks who conducted the
+exiles over the Siberian wastes, while among his subordinates was Paul
+Somaloff, who held a position scarcely inferior to his own.
+
+"Convicted of a double offence, Marie Lovetski was condemned to walk the
+whole of that wearisome distance among criminals bound for the mines,
+while the political exiles were somewhat less harshly treated. General
+Rachieff had been warned that a band of discontents had threatened to
+attempt the rescue of the prisoners, and special powers of life and
+death were granted to him. By long forced marches he hurried the exiles
+on, scarcely giving them a few hours' rest each night when they arrived
+at their halting-places on the route.
+
+[Illustration: "SHE THRUST THE COLD BARREL OF A PISTOL INTO THE
+GENDARME'S EAR."]
+
+"It was with a deep feeling of sorrow at his inability to lessen her
+sufferings that Paul Somaloff glanced many times on the way at Marie
+Lovetski. In spite of the strange position in which he found himself,
+his love for the woman was by no means lessened, but increased each day
+as he saw to his dismay how plainly her strength was failing as he
+looked upon the woman's haggard countenance, who was wearily dragging
+her limbs forward over the frozen wastes. One day Marie Lovetski's
+condition became so serious that Somaloff begged General Rachieff to
+order the fetters which bound her wrists to be removed, receiving in
+reply a refusal as contemptuous as it was decisive. All that day the
+exile's secret lover walked moodily on, racking his brains for some
+method by which to save the woman from dying before even the terrible
+journey was ended.
+
+"Not far from the hut in which you are now resting, the weary exiles
+were halted that night, and soon sank down in the log building into an
+exhausted sleep. After a severe conflict between his love and his
+allegiance to the Czar, Paul Somaloff rose, and, stealing carefully
+among the unconscious ones, he bent at last over the form of Marie
+Lovetski, stretched upon a straw pallet.
+
+"'Marie,' he whispered softly, as he cautiously awakened her. ''Tis I,
+Paul Somaloff--I come to save you.'
+
+"He remained by the woman's side till he had deftly removed the manacles
+from her wrists, then stole to the entrance as she silently followed
+him. Once he was outside the log building, Somaloff made for where his
+general's horse was stabled, and quickly untethering it led it forth.
+For one brief moment he clasped the exile to his breast, then lifted her
+into the saddle and placed the reins in her hand with a few hurried
+words as to the best course to pursue to avoid pursuit.
+
+"Suddenly Paul Somaloff felt a heavy hand grip him by the shoulder, and
+turning round he found himself face to face with Ivan Rachieff, his
+general! At the same time the woman was dragged from the horse and held
+by three of the Cossacks.
+
+"'Your traitorous plan was well thought out,' said Rachieff, as he
+smiled in derision at its failure. 'Paul Somaloff, you have broken your
+oath to the Czar, and I swear you shall die for this.'
+
+"'You may do your worst,' replied the young officer. 'You would not
+listen to my repeated appeals for a slight act of clemency for Marie
+Lovetski, and so have turned a loyal subject of the Czar into a
+traitor.'
+
+"'Insolent!' cried General Rachieff. 'At sunrise you shall be knouted to
+death.'
+
+"'Coward that you are,' retorted Somaloff, 'that is a punishment you
+dare not inflict upon one who wears a decoration given to him by the
+august Czar. I am a soldier, General, and, at the hands of my comrades,
+will die a soldier's death.'
+
+"'So be it,' answered Rachieff, calmly; 'you shall be shot at sunrise,'
+and he motioned to the soldiers who had gathered about him to take
+Somaloff into their charge, then turned on his heel and strode away,
+humming an idle air.
+
+"The grey morning had scarcely dawned when brave young Somaloff was
+blindfolded and led forth to be shot in sight of the exiles, while the
+woman whom he had failed to save looked helplessly on.
+
+"A few minutes afterwards, Paul Somaloff knelt on the snow-covered
+plain, the report of a dozen rifles rang out on the morning air, and the
+exiles saw his arms raised as he clutched convulsively at his breast,
+then he fell forward, dead!
+
+[Illustration: "HE FELL FORWARD, DEAD."]
+
+"The wild, despairing cries of the exiles were quelled with threats of
+the knout, and then the prisoners were hurried on, as they had been for
+so many days and weeks past. Ten days later a large number of Polish
+insurrectionists, ill-armed, and accompanied by a throng of even worse
+accoutred peasants carrying a red banner, flung themselves upon the line
+of march, and made a futile effort to break through the soldiers who
+guarded the exiles. The trained troopers of the Czar thrust them back
+and, as they broke and fled into the forest, chased and cut them down
+like sheep, till the snow turned to a crimson hue with their hearts'
+blood.
+
+"The exiles made desperate efforts to avail themselves of the
+opportunity to escape which the confusion presented. Those who were
+unbound fought with branches, which they tore from the stunted trees,
+while the others madly thrust the shackles upon their wrists into the
+faces of the brutal soldiery, who knouted or cut down men and women
+indiscriminately. Long will that massacre be remembered, and the
+dreadful sufferings which the survivors endured at the command of Ivan
+Rachieff. When at last Tomsk was reached, only a handful of decrepit
+exiles passed into the city out of all those who started on the long
+journey."
+
+"And Marie Lovetski?" I interrupted, "did she live to complete the
+distance, or what was her fate?"
+
+"It was reported that she was cut down during the massacre," the woman
+replied, slowly; "for nothing has been heard of her since by General
+Rachieff, although her body could not be found among the slain."
+
+I glanced at the woman thoughtfully as she concluded her story, and
+Denviers, who had listened in silence throughout, asked:--
+
+"Where is Marie Lovetski? You are aware that she is alive--nay, more,
+you know her place of concealment."
+
+Surprised at the directness of the question, the woman involuntarily
+rose, and then, seeing that we suspected the fugitive was hidden in the
+log hut, she answered:--
+
+"Marie Lovetski is not here, yet if the mujik has rightly judged your
+courage, within a week he will see your sledge return with one more
+occupant than when it started. Once she is carried there her escape is
+assured, for----" She stopped suddenly and pointed to the door. We
+listened attentively as the sound of footsteps drew near, then a heavy
+blow smote the barred entrance and a voice exclaimed:--
+
+"Open, in the Czar's name!" The woman's face turned ashy pale as she
+muttered faintly:--
+
+"That is the voice of Ivan Rachieff, who is again in command of the
+exiles," and she drew away the heavy bar to admit him. We rose to our
+feet in an instant as the door was flung open and General Rachieff
+entered and stood before us.
+
+
+II.
+
+For a moment the Russian officer stared at us without speaking, then
+throwing back his heavy sealskin cloak and revealing the military garb
+which he wore beneath, he asked the woman sternly:--
+
+"What does the presence of these men in your hut mean?"
+
+"We are travellers, who have asked for shelter. Our guide is an Arab; we
+are Englishmen," responded Denviers, quietly but decisively.
+
+"Spies, I do not doubt," said Rachieff, as he bit his heavy moustache.
+
+"My word is accustomed to be believed," replied my companion, sharply.
+"If you doubt what I have said, read that," and he flung a package
+containing our passports upon the table as he spoke.
+
+The officer took out our passports, which we had been careful to obtain.
+He glanced through them, then tossed the papers on to the table again as
+he remarked, in a morose tone:--
+
+"You would not be the first Englishmen who have made their way into the
+Czar's territory only to discredit it."
+
+"You have chosen a curious method of displaying your pleasantry,"
+retorted Denviers, glancing sternly at the heavy-bearded Russian who had
+so wantonly insulted us. Rachieff drew a chair to the table, and,
+sitting down, leant his head upon his hands, narrowly scrutinizing our
+features.
+
+[Illustration: "NARROWLY SCRUTINIZING OUR FEATURES."]
+
+"I saw some horses and a sledge in the shed without," he continued; "are
+they yours?"
+
+"They are," answered my companion, laconically.
+
+"Where was your last stopping-place before you reached here?" Rachieff
+asked, as if he were examining some prisoners.
+
+"We are neither Russian subjects nor refugees," Denviers replied. "You
+may save your inquiries for others, since we have no intention of
+satisfying your ill-timed curiosity." My companion turned his back to
+Rachieff, and raising a blazing piece of pine-wood which had fallen,
+tossed it again among the glowing embers, taking no more notice of the
+discomfited officer. Rachieff was nonplussed; he frowned heavily, then
+rising, moved to the door. He turned as he held it partly open,
+saying:--
+
+"If you were a Russian gentleman instead of an English spy, I would call
+you out for your insolence to an officer in the Czar's service."
+
+I saw the blood mount to Denviers's forehead as he snatched the driving
+whip which Hassan held and, striding forward, struck the Russian a blow
+across his face with it.
+
+"If I were an exile, no doubt you would knout me for that," he said,
+quietly. "You can do nothing as it is, since our papers are in order,
+except fight me."
+
+"I am in command of the exiles," answered Rachieff. "They are now
+passing yonder; when the halting-place is reached to-night I will leave
+my subordinate in charge of them and return here with an officer as my
+second. If you are not a coward you will be here awaiting me at
+mid-day."
+
+"I shall be here," replied Denviers. "Choose your own weapons; you have
+brought this meeting about entirely unprovoked, and to-morrow you or I
+will fall."
+
+"Adieu till then!" cried Rachieff, with a bitter smile of hatred, then
+he turned his face away, upon which was a long livid mark where the whip
+had fallen, and we saw him stride towards the exiles passing over the
+plain before us.
+
+"Ivan Rachieff is one of the most skilful duellists with sword or pistol
+in the Czar's army," said the woman, who had been an attentive observer
+of all that passed between the two men. "He will kill you with as little
+remorse as he ordered Paul Somaloff to be shot by the soldiers."
+
+"Paul Somaloff!" exclaimed Denviers. "Ah! I had forgotten his fate for a
+moment; but to-morrow, when Rachieff and I stand face to face, I will
+surely remember it."
+
+"Allah and Mahomet help the sahib," cried Hassan. "If the bearded Russ
+should chance to win, he shall fight the Arab afterwards."
+
+"Never mind Rachieff, Hassan," said Denviers; "we must at once make our
+plans for the purpose of helping Marie Lovetski to escape from Siberia.
+Whatever happens to me, she must be saved at all hazards."
+
+"Where is the woman concealed?" I asked the one who was our hostess.
+
+She rose and questioned us:--
+
+"Will you swear by the memorial which I have raised over Paul Somaloff's
+resting-place never to speak of what you may see in the strange
+hiding-place to which I may conduct you?"
+
+"We will," I answered briefly, as Denviers joined in assenting.
+
+We lost little time after Rachieff's departure, but drew together and
+discussed the probabilities of various plans succeeding, and at last
+decided on that which seemed to promise success. The dusk rapidly closed
+in upon us as we sat in thoughtful conversation, after which the woman
+rose, and, having scanned the plain near the hut as well as she could in
+the gloom, motioned to us to follow her.
+
+Hassan remained in the hut while we set out, and making our way through
+a part of the pines and firs close to the dwelling in which we had
+sought shelter, we found ourselves groping blindly along, following each
+other like phantoms in the darkness which enveloped us. So far there was
+little need for the woman to have sworn us to secrecy, for neither going
+nor returning did we get a glimpse of anything likely to indicate the
+spot to us again at any future time. At last we felt what appeared to be
+a rough flight of stone steps beneath our feet, then our guide lit a
+pine-wood torch which she carried.
+
+Holding up the flickering light before us, the woman led us into what we
+conjectured to be one of the catacombs of an ancient city. On both sides
+of us as we moved along the red flare of the pine-wood revealed many
+bodies of the dead, each stretched in a niche cut for it in the red
+rock, while at intervals between these we saw the resting-places of
+others distinguished by various strange emblems. One of these niches was
+silently guarded by two carved figures of horsemen with their white
+steeds caparisoned, and each of the riders held in his uplifted hand a
+sword such as the Damascenes use.
+
+"A strange resting-place that," I remarked to Denviers, as it stood out
+weird and ghastly in the light of the torch. "No Russian soldiery ever
+wear such accoutrements as are depicted there, I am certain."
+
+"They wear the garb of boyars of the time of Ivan the Terrible," our
+guide said, as she pointed to the mounted horsemen. "Where the pine
+forest about us is now there stood more than four hundred years ago one
+of the many cities built by that extraordinary monarch, but it has long
+been blotted out, and the Russ have forgotten its very existence. None
+now know of its catacombs save those of us who form a secret band, and
+whose object is to help the exiles who may escape and seek shelter and a
+safe hiding-place. Even now it would be impossible for you to find the
+one you seek, and if you wish to go farther it must be done blindfolded,
+or I will not lead you."
+
+We stood by the strangely carved horsemen, and having consented to the
+woman's request, allowed her to fasten our sashes securely over our
+eyes; then, led by her, we slowly advanced through what appeared to be a
+labyrinth of ways until we were stopped by someone who spoke to the
+woman in a calm, grave tone. There was a whispered conversation between
+the two, directly following which our eyes were uncovered, and we found
+ourselves facing a strangely-robed hermit. His long white beard fell
+almost to his waist, contrasting forcibly with the black garment which
+covered him, while his high forehead and the steadfast look directed
+towards us seemed to be in keeping with the hermit's strange
+surroundings. A heap of blazing pine-wood lit up his retreat and served
+to lessen the intense coldness of the air.
+
+[Illustration: "WE FOUND OURSELVES FACING A STRANGELY-ROBED HERMIT."]
+
+"You are Englishmen, and have promised to help Marie Lovetski to escape
+from here to our next station of refuge," he said. "Since the day when
+she fled she has been hidden in various of our secret places. Six months
+ago she was brought here, yet so dangerous is the risk that we have
+waited for the mujik's messengers, telling us that all is safe for her
+to be conveyed there. He says in his message that you can be trusted,
+and doubtless your passports will help you to accomplish the task more
+easily than Russ or Pole could do. We trust, then, in your honour, that
+once Marie Lovetski is in your keeping, you will die in her defence
+rather than surrender her to the horrors of a mine."
+
+We explained to the hermit the difficulty which the approaching duel
+between Denviers and Rachieff might cause, and discussed with him the
+possibility of overcoming it. Denviers was emphatic in his determination
+to meet the Russian on the morrow, and so it was arranged that at a
+certain hour Marie Lovetski should leave the catacombs and secretly
+watch the result of the duel. If Denviers escaped uninjured we were to
+mount our sledge and make for the spot where she would be stationed, and
+hiding her beneath the wraps, to start on our long journey back to the
+mujik who had intrusted us with the task of saving her.
+
+"You will, of course, allow us to see this exile?" Denviers remarked, as
+soon as everything was arranged. "It was for that purpose that we were
+brought here to-night."
+
+"Then your visit has been made in vain," was the unexpected reply. "It
+will be time enough for you to do so if your duel with Rachieff is
+successful."
+
+We endeavoured to overcome the hermit's objection, but, although the
+woman who had guided us there spoke strenuously on our behalf, the
+strange guardian of Marie Lovetski was not to be persuaded from
+following his own cautious plan. Finding our protests useless, we
+consented to be blindfolded once more, and were led back through the
+catacombs into the forest, and before long we had entered the log hut
+again. There we threw ourselves on our sheepskin wraps in front of the
+pine-wood fire, and laid down upon them to sleep; then, when daylight
+came, the woman awoke us and we passed the morning vaguely wondering
+what the result of the duel would be.
+
+Denviers urged upon our guide, Hassan, and myself the necessity of
+attempting to save the woman so long shut up in the dismal catacombs,
+and at last I gave a reluctant consent to do so if he fell, instead of
+making an attempt to avenge him. The Arab stolidly refused to do this,
+and justified his position by numerous quotations from the Koran, while
+declaring that Mahomet would certainly come to my companion's
+assistance, which, in spite of the gravity of his position, provoked a
+smiling retort from Denviers. Little did we know what the termination of
+the fight would be, or the strange part in it which Marie Lovetski was
+to have.
+
+
+III.
+
+"Hark, sahibs!" exclaimed Hassan. "Although noon has not yet come, the
+Russian is approaching to keep his promise to fight."
+
+We threw open the door of the hut and distinguished the ringing sound of
+the bells of a distant sledge. A few minutes after this the cracking of
+a whip and the neighing of horses were heard, and finally we saw the
+sledge appear before us. There were three occupants, and as it drew near
+we distinguished among them General Rachieff as the one who was urging
+on the horses. The conveyance dashed up to the hut; then one of the
+officers sprang out and restrained the animals, while a second, who
+carried a couple of swords, followed close behind Rachieff, with whom
+Denviers was soon to try conclusions.
+
+"The weapons are here," said General Rachieff, frigidly, as Denviers
+approached and bowed slightly. "There is no time to lose: we fight with
+swords as you see. Choose!" and he motioned to his second, who held them
+out. Following out the plan which we had determined to adopt, Hassan
+quickly placed our horses in our own sledge and drew them a little
+ahead, so that the conveyance should be ready for us to enter when the
+duel was ended, if my companion did not fall in the encounter.
+
+"We fight there," said Denviers calmly, as he motioned to the part of
+the plain to the right of where Hassan had already stationed our sledge.
+
+"As you will," responded Rachieff indifferently, and, accompanied by his
+second, he moved to the spot Denviers pointed out. There the usual
+formalities were settled by the other officer and myself, whereupon the
+two duellists made ready and waited for the signal to begin, which fell
+to my lot to give.
+
+I fluttered a handkerchief in the biting air for a moment, dropped it,
+and the swords were rapidly crossed. The reputation which Rachieff had
+won as a duellist was certainly well deserved, since his feints and
+thrusts were admirable, while Denviers, whose coolness in critical
+circumstances never deserted him, acted mainly on the defensive,
+parrying his enemy's lunges with remarkable skill.
+
+More than once the duellists stopped as if by mutual consent, to regain
+breath, then quickly facing each other again, fought more determinedly
+than ever. Rachieff saw that for once he had apparently met his match
+with the sword, and grew by degrees more cautious than he had been when
+the fight began; yet repeatedly he failed to completely ward off the
+quick lunges from my companion's weapon, and I saw the crimson stains of
+blood which marked where the sword point had touched him. Then he rained
+in his blows with lightning speed, pressing hard upon Denviers several
+times, and glaring furiously at him, while his distorted features showed
+plainly enough the mark of the blow he had received from the whip the
+day previous.
+
+"Rachieff wins!" cried the Russian's second, and I saw, to my dismay,
+Denviers's weapon suddenly twisted from his hand and flung into the air,
+while an exultant exclamation burst from Rachieff's lips as he rushed
+upon his defenceless opponent! Before he could make use of the advantage
+which he had unexpectedly gained, Marie Lovetski uttered a wild,
+mournful cry, and started forward from the pine forest, standing pale
+with momentary fear before him!
+
+The superstitious Russian stared incredulously, his sword-arm dropped to
+his side, while he gasped out:--
+
+"Lovetski's daughter, and yet she is surely dead!"
+
+Taking full advantage of the Russian's dismay, Denviers instantly flung
+himself upon his foe, dashing him backwards to the ground. Kneeling upon
+his enemy's chest and gripping him by the throat, as he held the sword
+he had seized before the startled Russian, my companion hissed in his
+ear:--
+
+"Yield, or you are a dead man!"
+
+The Russian's face turned to a purple hue as he almost choked for
+breath, then he muttered brokenly the exiled woman's name.
+
+"She is living!" cried Denviers, as he lowered the point of the sword
+till it touched the Russian's breast. "Swear that you will not attempt
+to hinder her flight, and I will release your throat."
+
+General Rachieff raised his hand in sign of assent, for his voice had
+failed him. Denviers rose, whereupon the Russian staggered to his feet,
+then, mad at his defeat, moved over to where his sledge was.
+
+[Illustration: "HE RUSHED UPON HIS DEFENCELESS OPPONENT."]
+
+"Get the woman into our sledge," cried Denviers to me. I started forward
+to where Hassan was; we snatched up the exile and immediately drove off.
+
+"After them, men!" cried Rachieff, caring nothing for his promise. "We
+will take Marie Lovetski, or shoot her down!"
+
+"Never trust a Russ, sahibs!" exclaimed Hassan, as he lashed our horses
+on, while our enemies followed furiously behind. "The only way to secure
+his silence would have been a sword thrust through the false one's
+heart."
+
+Away our sledge was whirled across the plain, faster and faster still,
+yet Rachieff, whose horses were more numerous than our own, drew
+gradually nearer. Marie Lovetski, who had forgotten her alarm now that
+Denviers was safe, turned her pale-set countenance towards our pursuers,
+and, as she did so, the report of a pistol rang out, while a bullet
+whizzed past her head! I saw Rachieff holding the smoking weapon in his
+hand as Denviers cried to me:--
+
+"If he fires again, I will shoot him like the dog that he is!"
+
+"No," cried Marie Lovetski, snatching a pistol from my sash before I
+could prevent her. "Rachieff slew Somaloff, my lover, and I will avenge
+him." She pointed the weapon full at the Russian, and I barely had time
+to brush her arm aside before the frenzied exile fired. Fortunately, the
+shot was deflected, and Rachieff was saved from the fate that he
+certainly deserved.
+
+"Shoot their horses!" exclaimed Denviers, and as our own dashed along he
+leant over towards the pursuing sledge and fired at the foremost of
+them. The animal reared for a moment, then fell dead, throwing the rest
+into confusion. Out the Russians sprang, and cut the traces through, and
+having in this way speedily managed to disencumber their steeds of the
+dead one, they immediately began the pursuit again. We waited for them
+to get near again, then fired in quick succession and brought down their
+other horses, in spite of the bullets which the Russians rained upon us,
+and which, fortunately, struck none who were in the sledge. Baffled in
+their pursuit, we saw our enemies standing knee-deep in the snow
+watching us as we dashed along.
+
+"Well," remarked Denviers, as we slackened our speed at last, "we have
+had a strange running fight, such as I least of all expected."
+
+"The sahibs have saved the woman," said our guide. "Their slave the Arab
+believes that even the Great Prophet would approve of what they have
+done. The promise to convey Marie Lovetski to the mujik's hut will now
+surely be kept"; and so it came about, for the daughter of Lovetski the
+Lost lived to find freedom hers on another soil and under another flag.
+
+
+
+
+_Illustrated Interviews._
+
+
+No. XXIII.--MR. HARRY FURNISS.
+
+[Illustration: "INTERVIEWED!"]
+
+It is the proud boast of every married man, and more particularly so
+when his quiver is fairly full, that he presides over the happiest home
+in the land. But there is a corner of Regent's Park where stands a house
+whose four walls contain an amount of fun and unadulterated merriment,
+happiness, and downright pleasure that would want a lot of beating. The
+fact is that Mr. Harry Furniss is not only a merry man with his pencil.
+Humour with him may mean a very profitable thing--it unquestionably
+does; fun and frolic as depicted on paper by "Lika Joko" brings in, as
+Digby Grant would put it, many "a little cheque." But I venture to think
+that the clever caricaturist would not have half as many merry ideas
+running from the mind to the pencil if he sold all his humour outside
+and forgot to scatter a goodly proportion of it amongst his quartette of
+children.
+
+[Illustration: "MY LITTLE MODEL."]
+
+[Illustration: "LITTLE GUY--OR, A FIDGETY MODEL."]
+
+I had not been in the house five minutes before they made their presence
+known. I had not been there a quarter of an hour before the discovery
+was made that they were small but impressive editions of their father.
+Have you heard of Harry Furniss's little model--"My Little Model"? She
+is Dorothy, who sits for all the little girls in her father's pictures.
+A clever, bright young woman of thirteen, with glorious auburn tresses.
+For two or three years past she has not forgotten to write her father a
+story, illustrated it herself, and duly presented it on his birthday.
+"Buzzy," for that is her pet name, is retained as a model at a modest
+honorarium per sitting. Should she be indisposed, she must find a
+substitute! Then there is Frank, the eldest, home for his holidays just
+now from Cheltenham; young Lawrence, who also draws capitally; and
+little Guy, the youngest, who creeps into the pictures occasionally. Guy
+is a very fidgety model. "I have drawn him in twenty different moves,
+when trying to bribe him with a penny to sit!" said Mr. Furniss. And it
+seemed to me--and one had an excellent opportunity of judging during a
+too-quickly-passed day spent at Regent's Park--that not a small amount
+of Mr. Furniss's humour was caught from the children. He has brought
+them up to live a laughing life, he ignores the standing-in-the-corner
+theory, and believes that a penny discreetly bestowed on a youngster
+during a troubled moment will teach him a better lesson than a
+shilling's-worth of stick. It is also evident that the brightness and
+jollity of the children are inherited, not only from father, but mother
+as well; and it was easy to discern, from the remarks that fell from the
+subject of my interview, that the touches of artistic taste to be seen
+about the place were due to the "best of wives and mothers"--immaculate
+housewife and capital hostess--Mrs. Furniss. And, as Mr. Furniss himself
+acknowledges, half the battle of life is overcome for a hard-worked
+professional man by the possession of a sympathetic and careful wife.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Just run through this budget of letters from father to children. When I
+arrived at Regent's Park--ten minutes before my time, by-the-bye--Mr.
+Furniss was out riding, a very favourite exercise with him. "Buzzy" and
+Frank and Lawrence and Guy brought out their treasured missives. When
+"Lika Joko" gets a pen or pencil in his hand he can't help caricaturing.
+These juvenile missives were decorated with sketches in every corner.
+Here is a particularly merry one. Frank writes from Cheltenham for some
+fret-work patterns. Patterns are sent by return of post--the whole
+family is sent in fret-work. Mr. Furniss goes away to Hastings,
+suffering from overwork. He has to diet himself. Then comes a letter
+illustrated at the top with a certain gentleman greatly reduced in face
+and figure through following Dr. Robson Roose's admirable advice. There
+are scores of them--all neatly and carefully kept with their envelopes
+in scrap-books.
+
+Some few days afterwards I discovered that Mr. Furniss delights in
+"illustrating" his letters to others besides his children. My photo was
+needed by Mr. Furniss for the purpose of making a sketch. I sent him a
+recent one. He wanted a "profile" too. The "profile" was taken when I
+was sadly in need of the application of the scissors of the tonsorial
+artist. I posted the "profile" with a request that perhaps Mr. Furniss
+would kindly apply his artistic shears and cut off a little of the
+surplus hair. By return comes an illustrated missive. I am sitting in a
+barber's chair, cloth round neck; the artist is behind me with the
+customary weapon, and laying low the locks. The whole thing probably
+only took a minute or two to do, but it is a capital little bit of
+drawing. It is reproduced at the end of this article.
+
+This quarter of an hour spent with the youngsters over their paternal
+letters was not lost. It prepared me for the man himself, it gave me the
+true clue to his character, and when he rushed into the house--riding
+boots and whip included--it was just the one the children had
+unanimously realized for me. A jolly, hearty, "give us your hand" sort
+of individual, somewhat below the medium height, with a face as merry as
+one of his own pages in _Punch_. He is restless--he must be always at
+it. He thinks and talks rapidly: there is no hesitation about him. He
+gets a happy thought. Out it comes--unique and original in its
+unvarnished state. He is as good and thorough a specimen of an
+Englishman as one would meet--frank and straight-spoken, says what he
+thinks and thinks what he means. An Englishman, notwithstanding the fact
+that he was born in Ireland, his mother was a Scotchwoman, and he
+married a lady of Welsh descent! But, then, his father was a
+Yorkshireman! So much for the man--and much more. Of his talents we will
+speak later.
+
+We all sat down to lunch, and the children simply did for me what I
+could not have done for myself. Frank ran his father on funny stories.
+Then it all came out. Mr. Furniss is an excellent actor--had he not been
+a caricaturist he must have been a comedian. His powers of imitation are
+unlimited. He will give you an Irish jarvey one moment and Henry Irving
+the next, and the children led him on. But it all at once dawned upon
+Mr. Furniss that it was interfering with the proper play of knife and
+fork, so we dispensed with the mimicry and went on with the mutton.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"Lika Joko" is suggested at once on entering the hall. Here are a
+quartette of quaint Japanese heads, which their owner calls his "Fore
+Fathers!" His Fellowship of the Zoo is typified by pictures of various
+animals. A fine etching of St. Mark's, at Venice, is also noticeable,
+the only two portraits being a Rembrandt and Maroni's "Tailor."
+
+"I always hold that up as the best portrait ever painted," said Mr.
+Furniss, as he glances at Maroni's masterpiece.
+
+[Illustration: THE DINING-ROOM.
+
+_From a Photo. by Elliott & Fry._]
+
+In the dining-room Landseer, Herkomer, Alma Tadema, and Burton Barber
+are represented--little Lawrence was the original study for the child in
+the latter artist's "Bethgelert." Fred Barnard's work is here, and some
+quaint old original designs on wood by Boyd Haughton are pointed out as
+curios. _Punch_ is to the front, notably in Du Maurier, by himself,
+which cost its possessor thirty guineas; a portrait group of the staff
+up the river, some delicate water-colours by C. H. Bennett, and a fine
+bit of work by Mr. Furniss of the jubilee dinner of the threepenny comic
+at the Ship Hotel, Greenwich. Upstairs the children's portraits, and
+pictures likely to please the youngsters, reappear. The nursery is full
+of them, though perhaps the most interesting apartment in this part of
+the house is the principal bedroom. It is full of the original
+caricatures of M.P.'s and other notabilities, and the occupant of the
+bed has Bradlaugh and the Baron de Worms on either side of him, whilst
+from a corner the piercing eye of Mr. George Lewis is constantly on the
+watch.
+
+A striking portrait of Mr. F. C. Burnand recalls to Mr. Furniss the
+first time he sketched him.
+
+"I was making a chalk drawing of him," said the caricaturist. "He sat
+with his back to me for half-an-hour writing, and suddenly turned round
+and wanted to know if I had finished! Perceiving a piece of bread for
+rubbing-out purposes in my hand, he objected to my having lunch there!
+And finally, when I induced him to turn his head my way and I finished
+the sketch, he looked at it critically and cried out, 'Splendid
+likeness, remarkable features, fine head, striking forehead,
+characteristic eyebrow, splendid likeness; somebody I know, but I can't
+remember who!' Encouraging, wasn't it?
+
+"But I remembered it. Some years after I gave a dinner at the Garrick
+Club to the _Punch_ staff and some friends. Burnand sat at the head of a
+long table. It was understood that there was to be no speaking. Suddenly
+I saw the editorial eyebrows wriggling. I knew what it meant--Burnand
+was going to make a speech. I hurriedly got about a dozen sheets of
+note-paper, and tore them in bits. I jumped up very nervous, produced
+'notes'; terrible anxiety on part of diners--suppressed groans. I spoke,
+got fearfully muddled, constantly losing notes, etc. 'Art amongst the
+Greeks,' I said--notes; 'yes, your sculptors of Athens were,
+unquestionably'--notes again. 'And what of it? _Punch_ is a--_Punch_ is
+a--well, you all know _what Punch_ is!' Then it began to dawn upon them
+that this was a little lark. So I hurriedly threw notes under the table
+and suggested that on an occasion like the present it was our duty to
+first propose the health of the Queen! We did. Then the Prince of Wales,
+the Army and Navy, the Reserve Forces, the Bishops and Magistrates. All
+these were replied to, and Burnand didn't get a chance!"
+
+[Illustration: THE DRAWING-ROOM.
+
+_From a Photo. by Elliott & Fry._]
+
+There are many delightful water-colours in the drawing-room, bronzes and
+quaint Japanese ivories. The first meet of the "Two Pins Club" at
+Richmond, June 8th, 1890, gives excellent back views of Sir Charles
+Russell, F. C. Burnand, Frank Lockwood, Q.C., Linley Sambourne, Chas.
+Matthews, Q.C., and the caricaturist himself. The "Two Pins" is a riding
+club named after Dick Turpin and Johnny Gilpin. Works by Goodall and
+Rowlandson are here, a fine Albert Duerer, and a most ingenious bit of
+painting by a man who never had a chance to get to the front--he has
+used his brush with excellent effect on the back of an old band-box.
+Mary Anderson has written on the back of a photo, "Better late than
+never," for the picture was a long time coming; another excellent
+example of photographic work being a large head of Mr. Irving as
+"Becket," bearing his autograph. In a corner is a queer-looking wax
+model of Daniel O'Connell addressing the crowd, and amongst a hundred
+little odds and ends spring flowers are peeping out. Mr. Furniss finds
+little time now to use his paint-box. The example--an early one,
+by-the-bye--he has contributed to this apartment is by no means
+prophetic. It is a trifle in water-colours--a graveyard of a church with
+countless tombstones! Now, who would associate the caricaturist with
+tombstones?
+
+[Illustration: THE STUDIO.
+
+_From a Photo. by Elliott & Fry._]
+
+Passing down a glass corridor--from the roof of which the grapes hang in
+great and luscious clusters in the autumn--you reach the studio. It is
+a big, square room. Run your eyes round the walls, try to take in its
+thousand and one quaint treasures. You can see humour in every one of
+them--merriment oozes out of every single item. Stand before this almost
+colossal statue of Venus. She of the almost faultless waist and
+fashion-plate divine rests on a coal-box. Sit down on the sofa. It is
+the stuffed lid of another receptacle for fuel. Golf is one of the
+artist's hobbies, and he invariably plays with clergymen--excellent
+thing for the character. We light our cigars from a capital little
+match-stand modelled out of a golf-ball, and the next instant "Lika
+Joko" is juggling with three or four balls. A clever juggler, forsooth.
+And the battledore and shuttlecock? Excellent exercise. After a long
+spell of work, the battledore is seized and the shuttlecock bounces up
+to the glass roof. It went through the other day, hence play has been
+postponed owing to the numerous engagements of the local glazier.
+Fencing foils are in a corner; a quaint arrangement of helmets, masks,
+and huge weapons _a la_ Waterloo suggests "scalping trophies." The china
+is curious--there is even an empty ginger jar--picked up in country
+places, of a rare and valuable old-fashioned type. He has the finest
+collection of old tinsel pictures of the Richard III. and Dick Turpin
+order in the kingdom, and values an old book full of tinsel patterns of
+the most exquisite design and workmanship. Old glass pictures are
+scattered about, "Lord Nelson's Funeral Car," and Joey Grimaldi grins at
+you from the far corner of the room.
+
+[Illustration: SCALPING TROPHIES.
+
+_From a Photo. by Elliott & Fry._]
+
+All this and much more is characteristic of the humour of the famous
+caricaturist. We look at "Lika Joko's" skits and laugh; we take a
+delight in picking out from his ingenious pictorial mazes our own
+particular politician or favourite actor; we roar at "Lika Joko's"
+comicality, and only know him as a caricaturist. But there is another
+side to this studio picture--Mr. Harry Furniss's pencil is such that it
+can make you weep; so realistic, indeed, that when in his early days he
+was sent to sketch scenes of distress and misery, they were so terribly
+real and dramatic that the paper in question dared not publish them. No
+artist appreciates a "situation" better than he. I looked through
+portfolio after portfolio, drawer after drawer--full of character
+studies and work of a serious character done in all parts of the world.
+These have never been given to the public. Should they ever be
+published, Mr. Harry Furniss will at once be voted as serious and
+dramatic an artist as he is an eminently refined yet outrageously
+humorous caricaturist. He is a great reader--he once collected first
+editions. We begin to talk seriously, when he suddenly closes the
+portfolio with a bang, shuts up once more his hidden and unknown
+talents, and hastens to inform you that he is a member of the Thirteen
+Club--Irving and he were elected together--and believes in helping other
+people to salt, dining thirteen on the thirteenth, with thirteen
+courses, etc. Always passes under ladders, and swears by peacocks'
+feathers.
+
+We stand before the great easel in the middle of the room--though not
+much work is done there. He prefers to work standing at a desk. He draws
+all his pictures very large; they are studies from life. It prevents the
+work from getting cramped. The same model has stood for all his
+principal people for the last ten years, and he has a wardrobe of
+artistic "props" big enough to fit out every member of the House of
+Commons. He is a perfect business man. His ledger is a model book. Every
+one of his pictures is numbered. In this book spaces are ruled off
+for--Subject, Publisher, When delivered, Published, Price, When paid,
+When drawing returned, Price of original, and What came of it. Humour by
+no means knocks system out of a man. Look at the score of pigeon-holes
+round the studio. As we are talking together now his secretary is
+"typing off" his illustrated weekly letter which finds a place in the
+_St. James's Budget_, _New York World_, _Weekly Scotsman_, _Yorkshire
+Weekly Post_, _Liverpool Weekly Post_, _Nottinghamshire Guardian_,
+_South Wales Daily News_, _East Anglian Times_, and in Australia, India,
+the Cape, etc. He writes children's books and illustrates them. His
+impressions of America are in course of preparation. There is his weekly
+_Punch_ work; he is dodging about all over the country giving his unique
+"Humours of Parliament" entertainment, and he found time to make some
+special sketches for this little article.
+
+[Illustration: _From a Drawing by Mr. Furniss._]
+
+We sat down. Tea was brought in--he believes in two big breakfast cups
+every afternoon--and with "Bogie," the Irish deerhound--so called owing
+to his very solemn-looking countenance--close by, Mr. Furniss went back
+as far as he could possibly remember, to March 26th, 1854. That is the
+date of his birthday.
+
+"I am always taken for an Irishman," said Mr. Furniss. "Nothing of the
+kind. My father was a Yorkshireman. He was in Ireland with my mother,
+and I believe I arrived at an unexpected moment. Possibly my artistic
+inclinations came through my mother. Her father was AEneas Mackenzie, a
+well-known literary man of Newcastle-on-Tyne, and proprietor of several
+newspapers. He founded the Newcastle School of Politics, and Mr. Joseph
+Cowen--as a boy--got his first tuition in politics from sitting at the
+knee of my grandfather. A bust of him is in the Mechanics'
+Institute--which he founded."
+
+[Illustration: "AT WORK."
+
+_From a Photo. by Elliott & Fry._]
+
+Little Harry was brought up in Wexford. He remembers being held up in
+his nurse's arms to see the _Great Eastern_ pass on its first voyage,
+whilst an incident associated with the marriage of the Prince of Wales
+is vividly impressed upon his mind. He was struck on the top of his hat
+by a "fizzing devil" made out of moist powder, which burnt a hole
+through it. He says that he would rather have this recollection on his
+mind now, than the "fizzer" on his head at the time. The young artist in
+embryo was a rare young pugilist at school. He was forced to use his
+fists, as friction was strong between the Irish and English lads at the
+school he went to. But he did well in athletic sports, and was never
+beaten in a hundred yards race. He firmly believes that this early
+athletic training is responsible for the rapid way in which he does
+everything to-day--be it walking or talking, eating or working, all is
+done on the hundred yards principle--to get there first.
+
+He was a spoilt boy--first of all because he was sent to a girls'
+school, but mainly from a very significant incident which happened at
+the Wesleyan College School in Dublin--a collegiate establishment from
+which pupils (not necessarily Wesleyans, for Mr. Furniss is not of that
+sect) passed to Trinity College--where he obtained all his education. He
+was not a studious lad. He found the editing, writing, illustrating,
+publishing, and entire bringing-out of a small journal he founded far
+more agreeable to his taste than Latin verbs and algebraical problems.
+
+[Illustration: STUDY OF AN IRISHMAN.]
+
+"I was in knickerbockers at the time," he said, "and introduced to the
+schoolboy public--_The Schoolboy's Punch_. It sounds strangely prophetic
+as I think of it now. The entire make-up of it was _a la Punch_, and it
+had its cartoon every week. At that time the Davenport Cabinet Trick was
+all the rage, and the very first cartoon I drew was founded on that.
+Here is the picture: myself--as a schoolboy--being tied up with ropes
+depictive of Greek, Latin, Euclid, and other cutting and disagreeable
+items. I am placed in the cabinet--the school. The head-master, whom I
+flattered very much in the drawing, opens another cabinet and out steps
+the young student covered with glory and scholastic honours thick upon
+him! From that moment my school-master spoiled me. I left school and
+started work. I got a pound for my first drawing. A. M. Sullivan started
+a paper in Ireland on very similar lines to _Punch_. There was a wave in
+Ireland of better class journalism at this time which had never existed
+before or since. I slipped in. For some years I drew on wood and
+engraved my own work. I was given to understand that all black and white
+men engraved their own efforts, so I offered myself as an apprentice to
+an engraver.
+
+"He said: 'Don't come as an apprentice. If you will undertake to look
+after my office, I'll teach you the art of engraving.'"
+
+It meant a hard struggle for young Furniss. He was loaded down with
+clerical work, but in his own little room, when the day's labours were
+done, he would sit up till two and three in the morning. There was no
+quenching his earnestness. Work then with him was a real desire. It is
+so to-day. To rest is obnoxious to him.
+
+He worked away. The feeling in Ireland against Englishmen at that time
+was very strong. Tom Taylor, then the editor of _Punch_, saw some of his
+sketches in Dublin, and advised him to go to the West of Ireland to make
+studies of character. He was in Galway, and he had persuaded a number of
+Irishmen who were breaking stones to pause in their work and let him
+sketch them. They consented. The overseer came up.
+
+"What d'yer mane," he cried, "allowing this hathen Saxon to draw yer?"
+
+"I've never been out of Ireland in my life," said the artist; but the
+overseer had seized him, and but for the intervention of the men, whom
+he had paid liberally for the "sitting," he would have thrown him into
+the river.
+
+Then a great trouble came. His father was stricken with blindness. The
+young man came to London, and with something more than the proverbial
+half-crown in his pocket. He was nineteen years of age when he hurried
+out of Euston Station one morning and stood for a moment thinking--for
+he did not know a soul in the Metropolis. But he soon found an
+opportunity.
+
+"My first work was on _London Society_, for Florence Marryat," he said;
+"then for the _Illustrated Sporting and Dramatic News_. The _Illustrated
+London News_ employed me. I did such things as the Boat Race, Eton and
+Harrow cricket match, and similar subjects--all from a humorous point of
+view. I have had as many as three full pages in one number. Then came
+that terrible distress in the mining districts. I was married that year.
+I was sent away to "do" the Black Country, and well remember eating the
+first Christmas dinner of my married life alone in a Sheffield hotel.
+
+[Illustration: MR. FURNISS ON "RHODA."
+
+_From a Photo. by Elliott & Fry._]
+
+"Those sketches were never published. They were too terribly real. The
+people dying in rooms with scarcely a stick of furniture, the children
+opening the cupboards and showing them bare, appealed to me, and my
+pencil refused to depict anything else. It was the same kind of thing
+that was afterwards made notorious by Sims and Barnard in "How the Poor
+Live." I came back and was selected to do some electioneering work for
+the same paper. This necessitated the putting off of a little dinner
+party to some friends, and I wired one of the invited to that effect.
+When I was starting, imagine my surprise to meet a _Graphic_ artist on
+the platform, and to hear that my friend had unwisely given away the
+contents of my telegram! However, we chummed up. He stayed with
+friends--I at an hotel. I sat up all that night working after attending
+the meetings. At four o'clock I heard a knock at the door. A journalist.
+I was just about to put into my picture the large figures. I made him
+very much at home, and told him I would give him any information I knew
+as to the previous night's proceedings if he would act as my model. He
+did. We worked on till breakfast time, and we sat down together. I sent
+off my page--it was in a week before the _Graphic_! It was a good
+return. I had started on the Tuesday, got home on the Thursday, and
+never had my boots off the whole time! I'd rather keep my boots on for a
+week than disappoint an editor."
+
+_Punch!_
+
+I asked Mr. Furniss if Tom Taylor helped him to any considerable extent.
+Oh! dear, no. Tom Taylor wrote a terrible fist, spattered the page all
+over with ink, and invariably replied on the back of the letter sent
+him. At least, it was so in Mr. Furniss's case. He would send sketches
+to _Punch_; they were acknowledged as "unsuitable." They invariably
+turned up a week or so later--the idea re-drawn by a member of the
+staff! He began to despair. But that first cartoon in the schoolboy's
+periodical was always before him.
+
+"When Mr. Burnand became editor," continued Mr. Furniss, "I was working
+on the _Illustrated London News_. He saw one of the sketches and asked
+me to call--the result was that I have worked for them ever since. I
+started at very small things; my first was a small drawing of Temple
+Bar. Then, when Parliament opened, Mr. H. W. Lucy commenced
+_Toby_--by-the-bye, Lucy and I both joined the _Punch_ table, the weekly
+dinner, together--and I worked with him. I have special permission at
+the House; as a matter of fact, I have the sanction of the Lord Great
+Chamberlain to sketch anywhere in the precincts of Westminster. My right
+there is an individual one."
+
+"But supposing, Mr. Furniss," I said, "they put a stop to you and your
+pencil entering?"
+
+"I'd go into Parliament!" came the ready reply. And, indeed, he has been
+approached on this subject by constituencies two or three times.
+
+We spoke of some of the eminent statesmen and others Mr. Furniss has
+caricatured. Mr. John Morley is the most difficult. He is not what an
+artist would call a black and white man. You must suggest the familiar
+red tie in your picture and then you have "caught" him.
+
+[Illustration: THE FURNISS FAMILY. _From a Photo. by Elliott & Fry._]
+
+"I have seen Mr. Morley look a boy, a young man, and an old man--and all
+in an hour," said Mr. Furniss. "Mr. Asquith is difficult, too. But I
+don't think I have ever missed him, as there's a Penley look about his
+face and a decided low comedian's mouth that help you immensely. Sir
+Richard Temple is the easiest. Many members have some characteristic
+action which assists you materially. For instance, Mr. Joseph Arch
+always wipes his hands down his coat before shaking hands with you,
+whilst Mr. Goschen delights to play with his eye-glass when speaking.
+Lord Randolph Churchill likes to indulge in a little acrobatic exercise
+and balance himself on one foot, whilst Mr. Balfour hangs on
+persistently to the lapel of his coat when talking. All these little
+things help to 'mark' the man for the caricaturist. I invented
+Gladstone's collar and made Churchill small. Not because he is small,
+but because I think it is the caricaturist's art not so much to give an
+absolutely correct likeness, but rather to convey the character and
+value of the man through the lines you draw. Gladstone! A wonderful man
+for the caricaturist, and one of the finest. I have sat and watched the
+rose in his coat droop and fade, his hair become dishevelled with
+excitement, and his tie get round to the back of his neck."
+
+"And what do the wives of our estimable M.P.'s think of all this?" I
+hinted.
+
+"Oh! I get most abusive letters from both sides. Wives of members write
+and ask me not to caricature their husbands. One lady wrote to me the
+other day, and said if I would persist in caricaturing her husband,
+would I put him in a more fashionable coat? Now, this particular member
+is noted for the old-fashioned cut of the coats he wears. Another asked
+me to make the sharer of her joys and sorrows better looking; whilst
+only last week a lady--the wife of a particularly well-known
+M.P.--addressed a most plaintive letter to me, saying that since some of
+the younger members of her family had contrived to see my pictures they
+had become quite rude to their papa!
+
+"Why, members often _ask_ me to caricature them. One member was very
+kindly disposed to me, and suggested that I should keep my eye on him. I
+did. Yet he cut me dead when he saw his picture! It's so discouraging,
+don't you know, when you are so anxious to oblige."
+
+I asked Mr. Furniss if he thought there was anything suggestive of
+cruelty in caricature.
+
+"Not in this country," he replied; "in Spain, Italy, and France--yes.
+Caricaturists there score off their cruelty. Listen to this. One night I
+was in the House. Mr. Gladstone rose to speak. He held his left hand up
+and referred to it as 'This old Parliamentary hand.' I noticed a
+fact--which men who had sat in that House for years had never seen. On
+that left hand Mr. Gladstone has only three fingers! Think of it--think
+of what your caricaturist with an inclination towards cruelty might have
+made of that fact, coupled with those significant words! I ask you
+again--think of it!"
+
+He spoke in thorough earnestness. He told me that he looked forward to
+the time when he should consign to the rag-basket the famous Gladstone
+collar and cease to play with Goschen's eye-glass. He is striving to
+accomplish something more--he would do it now, but it isn't marketable.
+Mr. Furniss is a sensible man. He caricatures to live; and, if the
+laughs follow, well, so much the better.
+
+The afternoon passed rapidly, and the studio became darker and darker.
+Venus on the coal-box looked quite ghostly, and a lay figure in the far
+corner was not calculated to comfort the nervously-inclined when amongst
+the "props" of an artist's studio. "Buzzy" merrily rushed in and
+announced dinner, and "Bogie" jumped up and barked his raptures at the
+word. "Bogie" knew it meant scraps. Mrs. Furniss and the children met us
+at the dining-room door. The youngsters' faces were as solemn as the
+Court of Queen's Bench. Little Lawrence looked up at me very demurely,
+the others waiting anxiously.
+
+"Please could you tell us what a spiral staircase is?" he asked.
+
+A dead silence.
+
+"Oh!" I answered, anxious to show a superior knowledge of these
+peculiarly constructed "ups and downs," "It's--it's--it's one of those
+twirley-whirley"--here I illustrated my meaning by twirling my finger
+round and round.
+
+A shout of laughter went up.
+
+If the reader will try this little joke on a score of people, by the
+time the twentieth is arrived at he will then discover why the happiest
+quartette of youngsters in the immediate vicinity of Primrose Hill
+laughed so gaily.
+
+Then we all went in to dinner. How well the shirt-cuff story went down
+with the soup.
+
+"Pellegrini," said the artist, "used to remark somewhat sarcastically to
+his brother artists: 'Ah, you fellows are always making sketches. I
+carry all mine here--here in my brain!' Pellegrini wore very big cuffs.
+He made his sketches on them. Until this came out we thought his linen
+always dirty!"
+
+[Illustration: BALLYHOOLY, M.P., GETS EXCITED.]
+
+Then Burnand came on with the beef. The two fellow-workers on
+_Punch_--Mr. Burnand and Mr. Furniss--run pretty level in their ideas. A
+happy thought is often suggested to both of them through reading the
+same paragraph in a newspaper, and they cross in the post. We spoke of
+_Punch's_ Grand Old Man--John Tenniel--of clever E. J. Milliken, whose
+really wonderful work is yet but little known. Mr. Milliken wrote
+"Childe Chappie"--and is "'Arry." Of Linley Sambourne, whom Mr. Furniss
+once saw walking down Bond Street, and had the strange intuition that he
+was the artist, connecting his work, and walk, and bearing together. He
+had never seen or spoken to him before. Charles Keene's name was
+mentioned. It was always the hardest matter to get Keene to make a
+speech. He far preferred the famous stump of a pipe to spouting. Mr.
+Furniss hurt Keene's feelings once with the happiest and kindest of
+compliments. It was at a little dinner party, and Mr. Furniss linked
+Keene's name with that of Robert Hunter--who did so much to provide open
+spaces for the people. He referred to Keene as "the greatest provider of
+open spaces!" Keene said he was never so grossly insulted--he never
+forgave Mr. Furniss. He failed to see the truly charming inference to be
+drawn from this remark.
+
+[Illustration: "THE ASSASSINATED SCARECROW, SOR!"]
+
+We went into the drawing-room, and together ran through the pages of a
+huge volume. It contained the facsimiles of the pictures which comprised
+one of Mr. Furniss's biggest hits--what was in reality an attack on the
+Royal Academy. His "Artistic Joke"--a sub-title given to this exhibition
+by the _Times_ in a long preliminary notice--created a sensation six
+years ago. He attacked the Royal Academy in a good-natured way, because
+he was not himself a member of that influential body. But there was a
+more solid and serious reason. "I saw how cruel they were to younger
+men," he said; "the long odds against a painter getting his work
+exhibited, the indiscriminate selection of canvases."
+
+This really great effort on the part of Mr. Furniss--this idea to
+caricature the style of the eminent artists of the day--kept him at work
+for more than two years. There were eighty-seven canvases in all. His
+friends came and went, but they saw nothing of the huge canvases hidden
+away in his studio. He worked at such a rate that he became nervous of
+himself. He would go to bed at night. He would wake to find himself
+cutting the style of an R.A. to pieces in his studio at early morn--in a
+state of semi-somnambulism. He fired his "Artistic Joke" off, the shot
+went home, and the effect was a startler for many people and in many
+places. It advanced Mr. Furniss in the world of art in a way he never
+expected, and did not a little for those he sought to benefit. One of
+these "jokes"--and a very dramatic one--is reproduced in these pages.
+
+The hour or two passed in the little drawing-room after dinner was
+delightful. We had his unique platform entertainment. Mr. Furniss was
+induced by the Birmingham and Midland Institute to appear on the
+platform as a lecturer. This was followed by his lecturing for two
+seasons all over the country, but finding that the Institutes made huge
+profits out of his efforts, and that his anecdotes and mimicry were the
+parts most relished, he abandoned the role of lecturer for that of
+entertainer with "The Humours of Parliament." As soon as he had crushed
+the idea that it was a lecture, people flocked to hear his anecdotes and
+to watch his acting, the result of his first short tour resulting in a
+clear profit of over L2,000.
+
+[Illustration: DRAWING FROM "AN ARTISTIC JOKE."]
+
+So it came about that young Frank closed his foreign stamp book, and
+"Buzzy" settled down in a corner by her mother's side and looked the
+little model she is. "Bogie" lay on the hearth-rug. Suddenly--we were
+all in "The House." We heard the young member make his maiden speech; we
+watched the mournful procession of the Speaker. Mr. Gladstone appeared
+upon the scene--he walked the room, and in a merry sort of way played
+with "Buzzy's" long curls--and took an intense interest in Frank's
+collection of foreign stamps. "Bogie" was evidently inclined to break
+out in a loud bark of presumable applause when the Irish member rose to
+his legs--the member for Ballyhooly--who had a question to ask the Chief
+Secretary for Ireland regarding an assassinated scarecrow! The reply did
+not satisfy him, and the Ballyhooly M.P. poured forth such a torrent of
+abuse upon the Chief Secretary's head that "Bogie's" bark came forth in
+boisterous tones just as the Speaker called the Irish representative to
+order!
+
+"What a hissing there was at one of my entertainments at Leicester,"
+said the humorist-caricaturist looking across at me with twinkling eyes.
+"A terrible hissing! I showed Mr. Gladstone on the sheet. Immediately it
+burst forth like a suddenly alarmed steam-engine. The audience rose in
+indignation--they tried to outdo it with frantic applause, but in spite
+of their lusty efforts it continued for several minutes.
+
+"'Turn him out--turn him out!' they cried. But we couldn't find the
+party who was acting so rudely.
+
+"Imagine my feelings next morning when I saw in the papers leading
+articles speaking in strong terms of this occurrence, which, one of
+them stated in bold type--'was a disgrace to the people of Leicester.'"
+
+"Bogie" rose from the hearth-rug, wagged his tail, and made his exit.
+
+"Good night, Buz."
+
+"Good night, Frank."
+
+"And did they ever discover this very unseemly person?" I asked Mr.
+Furniss when we were alone.
+
+"Oh! I forgot to tell you," he said, "that it was the hissing of the
+lime in my magic lantern!"
+
+HARRY HOW.
+
+[Illustration: Telegraphic Address, Likajoko, London]
+
+
+
+
+_Portraits of Celebrities at Different Times of their Lives._
+
+
+[Illustration: AGE 10.
+
+_From a Photo. by W. Andrews, Dublin._]
+
+[Illustration: Age 20.
+
+_From a Photo. by W. & D. Downey._]
+
+
+HARRY FURNISS.
+
+BORN 1854.
+
+At ten years old Mr. Furniss was a pupil at the Wesleyan College School
+at Dublin, where he started and edited _The Schoolboy's Punch_, in the
+manner described in the extremely interesting interview which appears in
+the present number. At twenty he had just come up to London, and was
+working for the illustrated papers. At twenty-six he joined the staff of
+_Punch_, with which his name has ever since been intimately connected.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 26.
+
+_From a Photo. by C. Watkins, Camden Road, N.W._]
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photo by Debenham & Gould._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 17.
+
+_From a Photo, by A. Adams, Aberdeen._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 24.
+
+_From a Photo. by John Lamb, Aberdeen._]
+
+
+SIR GEORGE REID, P.R.S.A.
+
+BORN 1842.
+
+Sir George Reid, P.R.S.A., was born in Aberdeen, N.B., in the year 1842,
+and when nineteen years of age commenced his artistic studies at the
+"Trustees' Academy," in the City of Edinburgh, and shortly afterwards in
+Utrecht, under Mollinger. In 1870 he quitted the latter place for Paris,
+where he continued his studies; and for several months in 1871 completed
+his student life with Israels, at The Hague. He has proved himself a
+true artist, and proficient in all departments--both figure and
+landscape. Latterly he has applied himself to portrait painting, in
+which he finds few competitors. He has done much in the way of book
+illustrating. He was elected an Associate of the Royal Scottish Academy
+in 1870, and a full member seven years afterwards, receiving on the
+death of Sir W. Fettes Douglas the unanimous call of his brethren to
+occupy the chair as President.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 36.
+
+_From a Photo. by John Lamb, Aberdeen._]
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photo. by A. Inglis, Edinburgh._]
+
+
+COLIN HUNTER, A.R.A.
+
+BORN 1841.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 15.
+
+_From a Daguerreotype._]
+
+Colin Hunter, A.R.A., was born in Glasgow, July 16, 1841, and is the son
+of John Hunter, bookseller and postmaster, of Helensburgh. He was
+educated in that town, and began painting at twenty years of age, after
+four years' clerkship. His education as a painter was derived from
+Nature. Mr. Hunter was elected an Associate of the Royal Academy in
+January, 1884, and is also a Member of the Royal Scottish Water Colour
+Society.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 24.
+
+_From a Photo. by Ovinius-Davis, Glasgow._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 32.
+
+_From a Photo. by Fradelle & Marshall, London._]
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 20.
+
+_From a Drawing by Carl Hartmann._]
+
+
+SIR FREDERICK AUGUSTUS ABEL, BART., K.C.B., D.C.L., F.R.S.
+
+BORN 1827.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 28.
+
+_From a Photo. by Maull & Co., London._]
+
+Sir Fredk. A. Abel, Bart., who has lately been prominent before the
+public in connection with the recent opening of the Imperial Institute,
+of which he has been Organizing Secretary from 1887, was born in London
+in 1827, and is known principally in connection with chemistry and
+explosives. His published works are: "The Modern History of Gunpowder,"
+1866; "Gun Cotton," 1866; "On Explosive Agents," 1872, "Researches in
+Explosives," 1875; and "Electricity Applied to Explosive Purposes,"
+1884. He is also joint-author with Colonel Bloxam of a "Handbook of
+Chemistry." Sir Frederick Abel has been President of the Institute of
+Chemistry, the Society of Chemical Industry, and the Society of
+Telegraph Engineers and Electricians. He was appointed Associate Member
+of the Ordnance Committee in 1867; and is Chemist to the War Department
+and likewise Chemical Referee to the Government. In 1883 he was one of
+the Royal Commissioners on Accidents in Mines, and was President of the
+British Association at the Leeds meeting, 1890. He was created C.B. in
+1877, Hon. D.C.L., Oxford, in 1883, knighted in the same year, and
+raised to the rank of Baronet at the opening of the Imperial Institute.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 50.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 65.
+
+_From a Photo. by Barraud, London._]
+
+
+LORD KELVIN.
+
+BORN 1824.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 28.
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+William Thomson, Lord Kelvin, was born at Belfast on the 26th of June,
+1824. His father was a distinguished mathematician, and was Professor of
+Mathematics, first in Belfast, and afterwards in Glasgow University. At
+a very early age, Lord Kelvin showed extraordinary mathematical ability;
+and he passed with great distinction, first through the University of
+Glasgow, and then through Cambridge, where he gained the Second
+Wranglership and the first Smith's Prize. He became Professor of Natural
+Philosophy in the University of Glasgow in 1846, at the age of
+twenty-two; and he still holds that office. He was one of the pioneer
+band who laid the first successful Atlantic cable, in 1858. In 1866 Her
+Majesty conferred the honour of knighthood on him for his distinguished
+services to the science and practice of submarine telegraphy. Lord
+Kelvin is the author of many inventions. His mariner's compass and
+sounding machine have done good service to seamen. His electrical
+instruments are the standards all over the world. He is President of the
+Royal Society and member of every important scientific society at home
+and abroad. In January, 1892, the Queen conferred upon him his peerage.
+He held the Colquhoun Sculls, at Cambridge, for two years. He is a
+sailor at heart and an enthusiastic yachtsman; and, among amateurs, a
+more keen lover of music it would be difficult to find.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 45.
+
+_From a Photo. by John Fergus, Largs._]
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photo. by W. & D. Downey._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 2.
+
+_From a Painting._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 8.
+
+_From a Photo. by R. Tudor Williams, Monmouth._]
+
+[Illustration: AGE 40.
+
+_From a Photo. by M. Guttenberg, Manchester._]
+
+
+CARDINAL-ARCHBISHOP VAUGHAN.
+
+BORN 1832.
+
+His Eminence Herbert Vaughan, D.D., is the eldest son of the late
+Lieut.-Colonel Vaughan, of Courtfield, Herefordshire, born at
+Gloucester, April 15, 1832, and was educated at Stonyhurst College,
+Lancashire, on the Continent, and in Rome. On the death of Bishop
+Turner, he was elected Bishop of Salford, a post which he held until his
+recent elevation to the rank of Cardinal-Archbishop.
+
+[Illustration: AGE 25.
+
+_From a Photo. by Jules Geruzet, Brussels._]
+
+[Illustration: PRESENT DAY.
+
+_From a Photo. by G. Felici, Rome._]
+
+[Illustration: COLONEL VAUGHAN.
+
+_From a Photo. by G. Borelli._]
+
+[Illustration: JOHN S. VAUGHAN.
+
+_From a Photo. by A. Sauvy._]
+
+[Illustration: KENELM VAUGHAN.
+
+_From a Photo. by Southwell Bros._]
+
+[Illustration: REGINALD VAUGHAN.
+
+_From a Photo. by Bradley & Rulofson._]
+
+[Illustration: THE LATE COLONEL VAUGHAN.
+
+_Father of Cardinal Vaughan, Archbishop of Westminster._
+
+_From a Photograph._]
+
+[Illustration: JOSEPH JEROME VAUGHAN.
+
+_From a Photo. by Bara._]
+
+[Illustration: BERNARD VAUGHAN.
+
+_From a Photo. by G. Jerrard._]
+
+[Illustration: ROGER BEDE VAUGHAN.
+
+_From a Photo. by J. H. Newman._]
+
+THE FATHER AND BROTHERS OF CARDINAL-ARCHBISHOP VAUGHAN.
+
+
+
+
+ZIG-ZAGS AT THE ZOO
+
+XII.--ZIG-ZAG ACCIPITRAL.
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The accipitral birds are the eagles, the vultures, the falcons, the
+owls--all those birds that bite and tear unhappy mammals as well as
+birds of more peaceful habits than themselves. They have all, it will be
+observed, Roman noses, which may be the reason why the Romans adopted
+the eagle as a standard; as also it may not. They have striking
+characteristics of their own, and have been found very useful by poets
+and other people who have to wander off the main subject to make plain
+what they mean. The owl is the wiseacre of Nature, the vulture is a vile
+harpy, and the eagle is the embodiment of everything great and mighty,
+and glorious and free, and swooping and catoptrical. There is very
+little to say against the eagle, except that he looks a deal the better
+a long way off, like an impressionist picture or a volcano. When the
+eagle is flying and swooping, or soaring and staring impudently at the
+sun, or reproaching an old feather of his own in the arrow that sticks
+in his chest, or mewing his mighty youth (a process I never quite
+understood)--when he is doing noble and poetical things of this class at
+an elevation of a great many thousand feet above the sea level he is
+sublime. When you meet him down below, on his feet, much of the
+sublimity is rubbed off.
+
+[Illustration: CHARLEY.]
+
+[Illustration: CORNS,--]
+
+[Illustration: BUNIONS,--]
+
+[Illustration: CHILBLAINS, OR--]
+
+[Illustration: IKINESS?]
+
+There is only one eagle in the world with whom I can claim anything like
+a confidential friendship, although I know many. His name is Charley.
+If, after a chat with Bob the Bactrian, you will turn your back to the
+camel-house and walk past the band-stand toward the eagles' aviaries,
+you will observe that the first corner cage is occupied by wedge-tailed
+eagles--a most disrespectful name, by-the-bye, I think. There are
+various perches, including a large tree-trunk, for these birds; but one
+bird, the oldest in the cage, doesn't use them. He keeps on the floor by
+the bars facing the place where Suffa Culli and Jung Perchad stand to
+take up passengers, and looks out keenly for cats. That is Charley. He
+is all right when you know him, is Charley, and I have it on the best
+authority that there are no flies on him. A rat on the straggle has been
+known to turn up in this aviary and run the gauntlet of all the
+cages--till he reached Charley; nothing alive and eatable ever got past
+_him_. I have all the esteem and friendship for Charley that any eagle
+has a right to expect; but I can't admit the least impressiveness in his
+walk. An eagle's feet are not meant to walk with, but to grab things. An
+eagle's walk betrays a lamentable bandy-leggedness, and his toe-nails
+click awkwardly against the ground. This makes him plant his feet
+gingerly and lift them quickly, so that worthy old ladies suppose him to
+be afflicted with lameness or bunions, an opinion which disgusts the
+bird, as you may observe for yourself; for you will never find an eagle
+in these Gardens submitting himself to be fondled by an old lady
+visitor. It is by way of repudiating any suggestion of bunions that the
+eagle adopts a raffish, off-hand, chickaleary sort of roll in the gait,
+so that altogether, especially as viewed from behind, a walking eagle
+has an appearance of perpetually knocking 'em in the Old Kent Road. On
+Charley's next birthday I shall present him, I think, with a proper
+pearly suit, with kicksies cut saucy over the trotters, and an artful
+fakement down the side, if the Society will allow me.
+
+[Illustration: A PASSING SNACK.]
+
+[Illustration: DINNER AHOY!]
+
+There is nothing in the world that pleases an eagle better at
+dinner-time than a prime piece of cat. Charley tells me that, upon the
+whole, he prefers a good, plump, mouse-fed tabby; he adds that he never
+yet heard of a tame eagle being kept at a sausage shop, though he would
+like a situation of that sort himself, very much. The stoop of a free
+eagle as it takes a living victim is, no doubt, a fine thing, except for
+the victim; but the grabbing of cut-up food here in captivity is merely
+comic. The eagle, with his Whitechapel lurch, makes for the morsel and
+takes it in his stride; then he stands on it in a manner somehow
+suggesting pattens, and pecks away at the hair--if, luckily, he has
+secured a furry piece. I am not intimate with any eagle but Charley, but
+I am very friendly with all of them--golden, tawny, white-tailed, and
+the rest, with their scowls and their odd winks--all but one other of
+the wedge-tailers, who stays for ever at the top of the tree trunk and
+looks out westward, trying to distinguish the cats in the gardens of St.
+John's Wood; he is reserved as well as uppish, and I don't know him to
+speak to.
+
+[Illustration: UNCIVIL BAWLINGS.]
+
+I am pretty intimate with many of the owls. The owl I know least is a
+little Scops owl, kept alone in the insect-house. He has for next-door
+neighbour a sad old reprobate--Cocky, the big Triton cockatoo--who
+abuses him horribly. The fact is, they both occupy a recess which once
+Cocky had all to himself, and now Cocky bullies the intruder up hill and
+down dale; although little Scops would gladly go somewhere else if he
+could, and takes no notice of Cocky's uncivil bawlings further than to
+lift his near wing apprehensively at each outburst. He and I have not
+been able to improve our acquaintance greatly, partly because he is out
+of reach, and partly because Cocky's conversation occupies most of his
+time.
+
+[Illustration: WHAT!]
+
+[Illustration: WELL--]
+
+[Illustration: DID YOU EVER!]
+
+[Illustration: OF ALL THE--!]
+
+The Zoo owls are a lamentably scattered family. Another Scops owl, with
+one eye, lives in the eastern aviary, in Church's care. He is a
+charming, furious little ruffian (I am speaking of the owl, and not of
+Church), and perfectly ready to peck any living thing, quite
+irrespective of size. Where he lost his eye is a story of his own, for
+he was first met with but one. He sits on his perch with a furious cock
+of the ears--which are not ears at all, but feathers--with the aspect of
+being permanently prepared to repel boarders; and the only thing that
+could possibly add to his fierceness of appearance would be a patch over
+the sight of the demolished eye; a little present I would gladly make
+myself, if he would let me.
+
+[Illustration: THE SCOWLING SCOPS.]
+
+He lives just underneath a much less savage little Naked-foot Owl, who
+doesn't resent your existence with his beak, but gazes at you with a
+most extreme air of shocked surprise. He doesn't attack you bodily for
+standing on this earth on your own feet--he is too much grieved and
+scandalized. He looks at you as a teetotal lady of the Anti-Gambling
+League would look at her nephew if he offered to toss her for whiskies.
+He follows you with his glare of outraged propriety till you shrink
+behind Church and sneak away, with an indescribable feeling of personal
+depravity previously unknown. Why should this pharisaical little bird
+make one feel a criminal? As a matter of fact, he is nothing but a
+raffish fly-by-night himself; and his pious horror is assumed, I
+believe, as much to keep his eyes wide open and him awake as to impose
+on one.
+
+The owls' cages proper are away behind the llamas' house, and here you
+may study owl nature in plenty; and you may observe the owls, like
+people sitting through a long sermon, affecting various concealments and
+excuses for going to sleep in the daytime. The milky eagle-owl pretends
+to be waiting for a friend who never keeps his appointment. You come
+upon him as he is dozing away quietly; he sees you just between his
+eyelids, and at once stares angrily down the path as if he were sick of
+waiting, and the other owl already half an hour overdue. Of course there
+is no owl coming, so he shakes his head testily and half shuts his eyes.
+If you go away then, he goes to sleep again. If you stay, he presently
+makes another pretence of pulling out his watch and wondering if that
+owl is ever coming. He has practised the transparent deception so long
+that he does it now mechanically, and sleeps, I believe, or nearly so,
+through the whole process. The oriental owl does it rather differently.
+He doesn't open his eyes when you first wake him--this in order to give
+greater verisimilitude to his pretence of profound meditation; he wishes
+you to understand that it is not your presence that causes him to open
+his eyes, but the natural course of his philosophical speculations. As a
+pundit, he disdains to appear to observe you; so he gazes solemnly at a
+vast space with nothing whatever for its centre. He sees you, but he
+knows you for a creature that never carries raw meat with it, like a
+keeper; a creature beneath the notice of _Bubo orientalis_.
+
+[Illustration: MILKY REPOSE.]
+
+[Illustration: IS HE COMING?]
+
+[Illustration: WHAT A NUISANCE!]
+
+As a song-bird, the owl is not a conspicuous success. Perhaps he has
+learned this in the Zoo, for he cannot be induced to perform during
+visiting hours. He is a reserved person, and exclusive. If you, as a
+stranger, attempt to scrape his acquaintance, he meets you with an
+indignant stare--confound your impudence! Nothing in this world can
+present such a picture of offended, astounded dignity as an owl. I often
+wonder what he said when Noah ordered him peremptorily into the Ark. As
+for myself, I should as soon think of ordering one of the beadles at the
+Bank.
+
+[Illustration: NOT YET?]
+
+[Illustration: OH, HANG IT!]
+
+Many worthy owls, long since passed away as living things, now exist in
+their astral forms as pepper-boxes and tobacco-jars. They probably
+belonged, in life, to the same species as a friend of mine here, who
+exhibits one of their chief physical features. He sits immovably still,
+so far as his body--his jar or pepper-reservoir--is concerned; indeed,
+if he is not disturbed, he sits immovably altogether, and sleeps. When
+he is disturbed he wakes in instalments, opening one eye at a time. He
+fixes you with his wild, fiery eye, his indignant stare. Start to walk
+round him; the head turns, and the stare follows you, with no movement
+whatever of the part containing the pepper. The head slowly turns and
+turns, without the smallest indication of stopping anywhere. I never
+tempted it farther than once round, but walked back the other way, for
+fear of strangling a valuable bird. Besides, I remembered an owl
+pepper-box once, which became loose in the screw through continual
+turning, so that the head fell off into your plate, and all the pepper
+after it.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The biggest owls are the eagle-owls. The eagle-owls here occupy a
+similar sort of situation to that of the hermit in an old tea-garden. In
+a secluded nook behind the camel-house a brick-built cave is kept in a
+wire cage, which not only hinders the owls from escaping, but prevents
+them taking the cave with them if they do. The cave is fitted up with
+the proper quantity of weird gloom and several convenient perches; the
+perches, however, are indistinct, because the gloom is obvious. In the
+midst of it you may see two fiery eyes, like the fire-balls from a Roman
+candle, and nothing else. This is the most one often has a chance of
+seeing here in bright day. Often the eagle-owls are asleep, and then you
+do not even see the fireworks. I know the big eagle-owl fairly well;
+that is to say, I am on snarling terms with him. But once he has settled
+in his cave he won't come out, even when I call him Zadkiel.
+
+[Illustration: THE EAGLE-OWLS' RETREAT.]
+
+There is nothing much more grotesque than a row of small barn owls, just
+awakened from sleep and curious about the disturber. There is something
+about the odd gaze and twist of the neck that irresistibly reminds me of
+an illustration in an Old Saxon or Early English manuscript.
+
+[Illustration: SLEEP.]
+
+[Illustration: WHO SAID RATS?]
+
+[Illustration: THE ANGOLA.]
+
+I am not particularly friendly with any of the vultures. Walk past their
+cages with the determination to ingratiate yourself with them. You will
+change your mind. There are very few birds that I should not like to
+keep as pets if I had the room, but the vulture is the first of them. I
+don't know any kind of vulture whose personal appearance wouldn't hang
+him at a court of Judge Lynch. The least unpleasant-looking of the lot
+is the little Angola vulture, who is put among the kites; and she is bad
+enough: a horrible eighteenth-century painted and powdered old woman; a
+Pompadour of ninety. The large bearded vulture is not only an
+uncompanionable fellow to look at, but he doesn't behave respectably. It
+is not respectable to hurl yourself bodily against anybody looking over
+a precipice and unaware of your presence, so as to break him up on the
+rocks below, and dine off his prime cuts. I have no doubt that
+Self--(Self, by-the-bye, keeps eagles and vultures as well as
+camels)--has any amount of sympathy for his charges, but who _could_
+make a pet of a turkey-vulture, with its nasty, raw-looking red head, or
+of a cinereous vulture, with its unwholesome eyes and its
+unclean-looking blue wattle? No, I am not over-fond of a vulture. He is
+always a dissipated-looking ruffian, of boiled eye and blotchy
+complexion, and you know as you look at him that he would prefer to see
+you dead rather than alive, so that he might safely take your eyes by
+way of an appetizer, and forthwith proceed to lift away your softer
+pieces preparatory to strolling under your ribs like a jackdaw in a cage
+much too small. He sits there placid, unwinsome, and patient; waiting
+for you to die. But he has his little vanities. He is tremendously
+proud of his wings--and they certainly are wings to astonish. On a warm
+day he likes to open them for coolness, but often he makes this a mere
+excuse for showing off. He waits till some easily-impressed visitor
+comes along--not a regular frequenter. Then he stands up and spreads his
+great pinions abroad, and perhaps turns about, and the visitor is duly
+impressed. So the vulture stands and receives the admiration, hoping the
+while that the visitor has heart disease, and will drop dead where he
+stands. And when the visitor walks off without dying the old harpy lets
+his wings fall open, ready for somebody else.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+_The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes._
+
+XIX.--THE ADVENTURE OF THE REIGATE SQUIRE.
+
+BY A. CONAN DOYLE.
+
+
+It was some time before the health of my friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes,
+recovered from the strain caused by his immense exertions in the spring
+of '87. The whole question of the Netherland-Sumatra Company and of the
+colossal schemes of Baron Maupertins are too recent in the minds of the
+public, and are too intimately concerned with politics and finance, to
+be fitting subjects for this series of sketches. They led, however, in
+an indirect fashion to a singular and complex problem, which gave my
+friend an opportunity of demonstrating the value of a fresh weapon among
+the many with which he waged his life-long battle against crime.
+
+On referring to my notes, I see that it was upon the 14th of April that
+I received a telegram from Lyons, which informed me that Holmes was
+lying ill in the Hotel Dulong. Within twenty-four hours I was in his
+sick room, and was relieved to find that there was nothing formidable in
+his symptoms. His iron constitution, however, had broken down under the
+strain of an investigation which had extended over two months, during
+which period he had never worked less than fifteen hours a day, and had
+more than once, as he assured me, kept to his task for five days at a
+stretch. The triumphant issue of his labours could not save him from
+reaction after so terrible an exertion, and at a time when Europe was
+ringing with his name, and when his room was literally ankle-deep with
+congratulatory telegrams, I found him a prey to the blackest depression.
+Even the knowledge that he had succeeded where the police of three
+countries had failed, and that he had out-manoeuvred at every point
+the most accomplished swindler in Europe, were insufficient to rouse him
+from his nervous prostration.
+
+Three days later we were back in Baker Street together, but it was
+evident that my friend would be much the better for a change, and the
+thought of a week of spring-time in the country was full of attractions
+to me also. My old friend Colonel Hayter, who had come under my
+professional care in Afghanistan, had now taken a house near Reigate, in
+Surrey, and had frequently asked me to come down to him upon a visit. On
+the last occasion he had remarked that if my friend would only come with
+me, he would be glad to extend his hospitality to him also. A little
+diplomacy was needed, but when Holmes understood that the establishment
+was a bachelor one, and that he would be allowed the fullest freedom, he
+fell in with my plans, and a week after our return from Lyons we were
+under the Colonel's roof. Hayter was a fine old soldier, who had seen
+much of the world, and he soon found, as I had expected, that Holmes and
+he had plenty in common.
+
+On the evening of our arrival we were sitting in the Colonel's gun-room
+after dinner, Holmes stretched upon the sofa, while Hayter and I looked
+over his little armoury of fire-arms.
+
+"By the way," said he, suddenly, "I think I'll take one of these pistols
+upstairs with me in case we have an alarm."
+
+"An alarm!" said I.
+
+"Yes, we've had a scare in this part lately. Old Acton, who is one of
+our county magnates, had his house broken into last Monday. No great
+damage done, but the fellows are still at large."
+
+"No clue?" asked Holmes, cocking his eye at the Colonel.
+
+"None as yet. But the affair is a petty one, one of our little country
+crimes, which must seem too small for your attention, Mr. Holmes, after
+this great international affair."
+
+Holmes waved away the compliment, though his smile showed that it had
+pleased him.
+
+"Was there any feature of interest?"
+
+"I fancy not. The thieves ransacked the library and got very little for
+their pains. The whole place was turned upside down, drawers burst open
+and presses ransacked, with the result that an odd volume of Pope's
+'Homer,' two plated candlesticks, an ivory letter-weight, a small oak
+barometer, and a ball of twine, are all that have vanished."
+
+"What an extraordinary assortment!" I exclaimed.
+
+"Oh, the fellows evidently grabbed hold of anything they could get."
+
+Holmes grunted from the sofa.
+
+"The county police ought to make something of that," said he. "Why, it
+is surely obvious that----"
+
+But I held up a warning finger.
+
+[Illustration: "I HELD UP A WARNING FINGER."]
+
+"You are here for a rest, my dear fellow. For Heaven's sake, don't get
+started on a new problem when your nerves are all in shreds."
+
+Holmes shrugged his shoulders with a glance of comic resignation towards
+the Colonel, and the talk drifted away into less dangerous channels.
+
+It was destined, however, that all my professional caution should be
+wasted, for next morning the problem obtruded itself upon us in such a
+way that it was impossible to ignore it, and our country visit took a
+turn which neither of us could have anticipated. We were at breakfast
+when the Colonel's butler rushed in with all his propriety shaken out of
+him.
+
+"Have you heard the news, sir?" he gasped. "At the Cunningham's, sir!"
+
+"Burglary!" cried the Colonel, with his coffee cup in mid air.
+
+"Murder!"
+
+The Colonel whistled. "By Jove!" said he, "who's killed, then? The J.P.
+or his son?"
+
+"Neither, sir. It was William, the coachman. Shot through the heart,
+sir, and never spoke again."
+
+"Who shot him, then?"
+
+"The burglar, sir. He was off like a shot and got clean away. He'd just
+broke in at the pantry window when William came on him and met his end
+in saving his master's property."
+
+"What time?"
+
+"It was last night, sir, somewhere about twelve."
+
+"Ah, then, we'll step over presently," said the Colonel, coolly settling
+down to his breakfast again. "It's a baddish business," he added, when
+the butler had gone. "He's our leading squire about here, is old
+Cunningham, and a very decent fellow too. He'll be cut up over this, for
+the man has been in his service for years, and was a good servant. It's
+evidently the same villains who broke into Acton's."
+
+"And stole that very singular collection?" said Holmes, thoughtfully.
+
+"Precisely."
+
+"Hum! It may prove the simplest matter in the world; but, all the same,
+at first glance this is just a little curious, is it not? A gang of
+burglars acting in the country might be expected to vary the scene of
+their operations, and not to crack two cribs in the same district within
+a few days. When you spoke last night of taking precautions, I remember
+that it passed through my mind that this was probably the last parish
+in England to which the thief or thieves would be likely to turn their
+attention; which shows that I have still much to learn."
+
+"I fancy it's some local practitioner," said the Colonel. "In that case,
+of course, Acton's and Cunningham's are just the places he would go for,
+since they are far the largest about here."
+
+"And richest?"
+
+"Well, they ought to be; but they've had a law-suit for some years which
+has sucked the blood out of both of them, I fancy. Old Acton has some
+claim on half Cunningham's estate, and the lawyers have been at it with
+both hands."
+
+"If it's a local villain, there should not be much difficulty in running
+him down," said Holmes, with a yawn. "All right, Watson, I don't intend
+to meddle."
+
+"Inspector Forrester, sir," said the butler, throwing open the door.
+
+The official, a smart, keen-faced young fellow, stepped into the room.
+"Good morning, Colonel," said he. "I hope I don't intrude, but we hear
+that Mr. Holmes, of Baker Street, is here."
+
+The Colonel waved his hand towards my friend, and the Inspector bowed.
+
+"We thought that perhaps you would care to step across, Mr. Holmes."
+
+"The Fates are against you, Watson," said he, laughing. "We were
+chatting about the matter when you came in, Inspector. Perhaps you can
+let us have a few details." As he leaned back in his chair in the
+familiar attitude, I knew that the case was hopeless.
+
+[Illustration: "INSPECTOR FORRESTER."]
+
+"We had no clue in the Acton affair. But here we have plenty to go on,
+and there's no doubt it is the same party in each case. The man was
+seen."
+
+"Ah!"
+
+"Yes, sir. But he was off like a deer after the shot that killed poor
+William Kirwan was fired. Mr. Cunningham saw him from the bedroom
+window, and Mr. Alec Cunningham saw him from the back passage. It was a
+quarter to twelve when the alarm broke out. Mr. Cunningham had just got
+into bed, and Mister Alec was smoking a pipe in his dressing-gown. They
+both heard William, the coachman, calling for help, and Mister Alec he
+ran down to see what was the matter. The back door was open, and as he
+came to the foot of the stairs he saw two men wrestling together
+outside. One of them fired a shot, the other dropped, and the murderer
+rushed across the garden and over the hedge. Mr. Cunningham, looking out
+of his bedroom window, saw the fellow as he gained the road, but lost
+sight of him at once. Mister Alec stopped to see if he could help the
+dying man, and so the villain got clean away. Beyond the fact that he
+was a middle-sized man, and dressed in some dark stuff, we have no
+personal clue, but we are making energetic inquiries, and if he is a
+stranger we shall soon find him out."
+
+"What was this William doing there? Did he say anything before he died?"
+
+"Not a word. He lives at the lodge with his mother, and as he was a very
+faithful fellow, we imagine that he walked up to the house with the
+intention of seeing that all was right there. Of course, this Acton
+business has put everyone on their guard. The robber must have just
+burst open the door--the lock has been forced--when William came upon
+him."
+
+"Did William say anything to his mother before going out?"
+
+"She is very old and deaf, and we can get no information from her. The
+shock has made her half-witted, but I understand that she was never very
+bright. There is one very important circumstance, however. Look at
+this!"
+
+He took a small piece of torn paper from a note-book and spread it out
+upon his knee.
+
+"This was found between the finger and thumb of the dead man. It appears
+to be a fragment torn from a larger sheet. You will observe that the
+hour mentioned upon it is the very time at which the poor fellow met his
+fate. You see that his murderer might have torn the rest of the sheet
+from him or he might have taken this fragment from the murderer. It
+reads almost as though it was an appointment."
+
+Holmes took up the scrap of paper, a facsimile of which is here
+reproduced:--
+
+[Illustration: at quarterto twelve learn what maybe]
+
+"Presuming that it is an appointment," continued the Inspector, "it is,
+of course, a conceivable theory that this William Kirwan, although he
+had the reputation of being an honest man, may have been in league with
+the thief. He may have met him there, may even have helped him to break
+in the door, and then they may have fallen out between themselves."
+
+"This writing is of extraordinary interest," said Holmes, who had been
+examining it with intense concentration. "These are much deeper waters
+than I had thought." He sank his head upon his hands, while the
+Inspector smiled at the effect which his case had had upon the famous
+London specialist.
+
+"Your last remark," said Holmes, presently, "as to the possibility of
+there being an understanding between the burglar and the servant, and
+this being a note of appointment from one to the other, is an ingenious
+and not entirely an impossible supposition. But this writing opens
+up----" he sank his head into his hands again and remained for some
+minutes in the deepest thought. When he raised his face again I was
+surprised to see that his cheek was tinged with colour and his eyes as
+bright as before his illness. He sprang to his feet with all his old
+energy.
+
+"I'll tell you what!" said he. "I should like to have a quiet little
+glance into the details of this case. There is something in it which
+fascinates me extremely. If you will permit me, Colonel, I will leave my
+friend, Watson, and you, and I will step round with the Inspector to
+test the truth of one or two little fancies of mine. I will be with you
+again in half an hour."
+
+An hour and a half had elapsed before the Inspector returned alone.
+
+"Mr. Holmes is walking up and down in the field outside," said he. "He
+wants us all four to go up to the house together."
+
+"To Mr. Cunningham's?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"What for?"
+
+The Inspector shrugged his shoulders. "I don't quite know, sir. Between
+ourselves, I think Mr. Holmes has not quite got over his illness yet.
+He's been behaving very queerly, and he is very much excited."
+
+"I don't think you need alarm yourself," said I. "I have usually found
+that there was method in his madness."
+
+"Some folk might say there was madness in his method," muttered the
+Inspector. "But he's all on fire to start, Colonel, so we had best go
+out, if you are ready."
+
+We found Holmes pacing up and down in the field, his chin sunk upon his
+breast, and his hands thrust into his trouser pockets.
+
+"The matter grows in interest," said he. "Watson, your country trip has
+been a distinct success. I have had a charming morning."
+
+"You have been up to the scene of the crime, I understand?" said the
+Colonel.
+
+"Yes; the Inspector and I have made quite a little reconnaissance
+together."
+
+"Any success?"
+
+"Well, we have seen some very interesting things. I'll tell you what we
+did as we walk. First of all we saw the body of this unfortunate man. He
+certainly died from a revolver wound, as reported."
+
+"Had you doubted it, then?"
+
+"Oh, it is as well to test everything. Our inspection was not wasted. We
+then had an interview with Mr. Cunningham and his son, who were able to
+point out the exact spot where the murderer had broken through the
+garden hedge in his flight. That was of great interest."
+
+"Naturally."
+
+"Then we had a look at this poor fellow's mother. We could get no
+information from her, however, as she is very old and feeble."
+
+"And what is the result of your investigations?"
+
+"The conviction that the crime is a very peculiar one. Perhaps our visit
+now may do something to make it less obscure. I think that we are both
+agreed, Inspector, that the fragment of paper in the dead man's hand,
+bearing, as it does, the very hour of his death written upon it, is of
+extreme importance."
+
+"It should give a clue, Mr. Holmes."
+
+"It _does_ give a clue. Whoever wrote that note was the man who brought
+William Kirwan out of his bed at that hour. But where is the rest of
+that sheet of paper?"
+
+"I examined the ground carefully in the hope of finding it," said the
+Inspector.
+
+"It was torn out of the dead man's hand. Why was someone so anxious to
+get possession of it? Because it incriminated him. And what would he do
+with it? Thrust it into his pocket most likely, never noticing that a
+corner of it had been left in the grip of the corpse. If we could get
+the rest of that sheet, it is obvious that we should have gone a long
+way towards solving the mystery."
+
+"Yes, but how can we get at the criminal's pocket before we catch the
+criminal?"
+
+"Well, well, it was worth thinking over. Then there is another obvious
+point. The note was sent to William. The man who wrote it could not have
+taken it, otherwise of course he might have delivered his own message by
+word of mouth. Who brought the note, then? Or did it come through the
+post?"
+
+"I have made inquiries," said the Inspector. "William received a letter
+by the afternoon post yesterday. The envelope was destroyed by him."
+
+"Excellent!" cried Holmes, clapping the Inspector on the back. "You've
+seen the postman. It is a pleasure to work with you. Well, here is the
+lodge, and if you will come up, Colonel, I will show you the scene of
+the crime."
+
+We passed the pretty cottage where the murdered man had lived, and
+walked up an oak-lined avenue to the fine old Queen Anne house, which
+bears the date of Malplaquet upon the lintel of the door. Holmes and the
+Inspector led us round it until we came to the side gate, which is
+separated by a stretch of garden from the hedge which lines the road. A
+constable was standing at the kitchen door.
+
+"Throw the door open, officer," said Holmes. "Now it was on those stairs
+that young Mr. Cunningham stood and saw the two men struggling just
+where we are. Old Mr. Cunningham was at that window--the second on the
+left--and he saw the fellow get away just to the left of that bush. So
+did the son. They are both sure of it, on account of the bush. Then
+Mister Alec ran out and knelt beside the wounded man. The ground is very
+hard, you see, and there are no marks to guide us."
+
+As he spoke two men came down the garden path, from round the angle of
+the house. The one was an elderly man, with a strong, deep-lined,
+heavy-eyed face; the other a dashing young fellow, whose bright, smiling
+expression and showy dress were in strange contrast with the business
+which had brought us there.
+
+"Still at it, then?" said he to Holmes. "I thought you Londoners were
+never at fault. You don't seem to be so very quick, after all."
+
+"Ah! you must give us a little time," said Holmes, good-humouredly.
+
+"You'll want it," said young Alec Cunningham. "Why, I don't see that we
+have any clue at all."
+
+"There's only one," answered the Inspector. "We thought that if we could
+only find----Good heavens! Mr. Holmes, what is the matter?"
+
+My poor friend's face had suddenly assumed the most dreadful expression.
+His eyes rolled upwards, his features writhed in agony, and with a
+suppressed groan he dropped on his face upon the ground. Horrified at
+the suddenness and severity of the attack, we carried him into the
+kitchen, where he lay back in a large chair and breathed heavily for
+some minutes. Finally, with a shame-faced apology for his weakness, he
+rose once more.
+
+"Watson would tell you that I have only just recovered from a severe
+illness," he explained. "I am liable to these sudden nervous attacks."
+
+"Shall I send you home in my trap?" asked old Cunningham.
+
+"Well, since I am here, there is one point on which I should like to
+feel sure. We can very easily verify it."
+
+"What is it?"
+
+"Well, it seems to me that it is just possible that the arrival of this
+poor fellow William was not before but after the entrance of the burglar
+into the house. You appear to take it for granted that although the door
+was forced the robber never got in."
+
+[Illustration: "GOOD HEAVENS! WHAT IS THE MATTER?"]
+
+"I fancy that is quite obvious," said Mr. Cunningham, gravely. "Why, my
+son Alec had not yet gone to bed, and he would certainly have heard
+anyone moving about."
+
+"Where was he sitting?"
+
+"I was sitting smoking in my dressing-room."
+
+"Which window is that?"
+
+"The last on the left, next my father's."
+
+"Both your lamps were lit, of course?"
+
+"Undoubtedly."
+
+"There are some very singular points here," said Holmes, smiling. "Is it
+not extraordinary that a burglar--and a burglar who had had some
+previous experience--should deliberately break into a house at a time
+when he could see from the lights that two of the family were still
+afoot?"
+
+"He must have been a cool hand."
+
+"Well, of course, if the case were not an odd one we should not have
+been driven to ask you for an explanation," said Mister Alec. "But as to
+your idea that the man had robbed the house before William tackled him,
+I think it a most absurd notion. Shouldn't we have found the place
+disarranged and missed the things which he had taken?"
+
+"It depends on what the things were," said Holmes. "You must remember
+that we are dealing with a burglar who is a very peculiar fellow, and
+who appears to work on lines of his own. Look, for example, at the queer
+lot of things which he took from Acton's--what was it?--a ball of
+string, a letter-weight, and I don't know what other odds and ends!"
+
+"Well, we are quite in your hands, Mr. Holmes," said old Cunningham.
+"Anything which you or the Inspector may suggest will most certainly be
+done."
+
+"In the first place," said Holmes, "I should like you to offer a
+reward--coming from yourself, for the officials may take a little time
+before they would agree upon the sum, and these things cannot be done
+too promptly. I have jotted down the form here, if you would not mind
+signing it. Fifty pounds was quite enough, I thought."
+
+"I would willingly give five hundred," said the J.P., taking the slip of
+paper and the pencil which Holmes handed to him. "This is not quite
+correct, however," he added, glancing over the document.
+
+"I wrote it rather hurriedly."
+
+"You see you begin: 'Whereas, at about a quarter to one on Tuesday
+morning, an attempt was made'--and so on. It was at a quarter to twelve,
+as a matter of fact."
+
+I was pained at the mistake, for I knew how keenly Holmes would feel any
+slip of the kind. It was his speciality to be accurate as to fact, but
+his recent illness had shaken him, and this one little incident was
+enough to show me that he was still far from being himself. He was
+obviously embarrassed for an instant, while the Inspector raised his
+eyebrows and Alec Cunningham burst into a laugh. The old gentleman
+corrected the mistake, however, and handed the paper back to Holmes.
+
+"Get it printed as soon as possible," he said. "I think your idea is an
+excellent one."
+
+Holmes put the slip of paper carefully away in his pocket-book.
+
+"And now," said he, "it would really be a good thing that we should all
+go over the house together and make certain that this rather erratic
+burglar did not, after all, carry anything away with him."
+
+Before entering. Holmes made an examination of the door which had been
+forced. It was evident that a chisel or strong knife had been thrust in,
+and the lock forced back with it. We could see the marks in the wood
+where it had been pushed in.
+
+"You don't use bars, then?" he asked.
+
+"We have never found it necessary."
+
+"You don't keep a dog?"
+
+"Yes; but he is chained on the other side of the house."
+
+"When do the servants go to bed?"
+
+"About ten."
+
+"I understand that William was usually in bed also at that hour?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"It is singular that on this particular night he should have been up.
+Now, I should be very glad if you would have the kindness to show us
+over the house, Mr. Cunningham."
+
+A stone-flagged passage, with the kitchens branching away from it, led
+by a wooden staircase directly to the first floor of the house. It came
+out upon the landing opposite to a second more ornamental stair which
+led up from the front hall. Out of this landing opened the drawing-room
+and several bedrooms, including those of Mr. Cunningham and his son.
+Holmes walked slowly, taking keen note of the architecture of the house.
+I could tell from his expression that he was on a hot scent, and yet I
+could not in the least imagine in what direction his inferences were
+leading him.
+
+"My good sir," said Mr. Cunningham, with some impatience, "this is
+surely very unnecessary. That is my room at the end of the stairs, and
+my son's is the one beyond it. I leave it to your judgment whether it
+was possible for the thief to have come up here without disturbing us."
+
+"You must try round and get on a fresh scent, I fancy," said the son,
+with a rather malicious smile.
+
+"Still, I must ask you to humour me a little further. I should like, for
+example, to see how far the windows of the bedrooms command the front.
+This, I understand, is your son's room"--he pushed open the door--"and
+that, I presume, is the dressing-room in which he sat smoking when the
+alarm was given. Where does the window of that look out to?" He stepped
+across the bedroom, pushed open the door, and glanced round the other
+chamber.
+
+"I hope you are satisfied now?" said Mr. Cunningham, testily.
+
+"Thank you; I think I have seen all that I wished."
+
+"Then, if it is really necessary, we can go into my room."
+
+"If it is not too much trouble."
+
+The J.P. shrugged his shoulders, and led the way into his own chamber,
+which was a plainly furnished and commonplace room. As we moved across
+it in the direction of the window, Holmes fell back until he and I were
+the last of the group. Near the foot of the bed was a small square
+table, on which stood a dish of oranges and a carafe of water. As we
+passed it, Holmes, to my unutterable astonishment, leaned over in front
+of me and deliberately knocked the whole thing over. The glass smashed
+into a thousand pieces, and the fruit rolled about into every corner of
+the room.
+
+[Illustration: "HE DELIBERATELY KNOCKED THE WHOLE THING OVER."]
+
+"You've done it now, Watson," said he, coolly. "A pretty mess you've
+made of the carpet."
+
+I stooped in some confusion and began to pick up the fruit,
+understanding that for some reason my companion desired me to take the
+blame upon myself. The others did the same, and set the table on its
+legs again.
+
+"Halloa!" cried the Inspector, "where's he got to?"
+
+Holmes had disappeared.
+
+"Wait here an instant," said young Alec Cunningham. "The fellow is off
+his head, in my opinion. Come with me, father, and see where he has got
+to!"
+
+They rushed out of the room, leaving the Inspector, the Colonel, and me
+staring at each other.
+
+"'Pon my word, I am inclined to agree with Mister Alec," said the
+official. "It may be the effect of this illness, but it seems to me
+that----"
+
+His words were cut short by a sudden scream of "Help! Help! Murder!"
+With a thrill I recognised the voice as that of my friend. I rushed
+madly from the room on to the landing. The cries, which had sunk down
+into a hoarse, inarticulate shouting, came from the room which we had
+first visited. I dashed in, and on into the dressing-room beyond. The
+two Cunninghams were bending over the prostrate figure of Sherlock
+Holmes, the younger clutching his throat with both hands, while the
+elder seemed to be twisting one of his wrists. In an instant the three
+of us had torn them away from him, and Holmes staggered to his feet,
+very pale, and evidently greatly exhausted.
+
+"Arrest these men, Inspector," he gasped.
+
+"On what charge?"
+
+"That of murdering their coachman, William Kirwan!"
+
+The Inspector stared about him in bewilderment. "Oh, come now, Mr.
+Holmes," said he at last; "I am sure you don't really mean to----"
+
+"Tut, man; look at their faces!" cried Holmes, curtly.
+
+Never, certainly, have I seen a plainer confession of guilt upon human
+countenances. The older man seemed numbed and dazed, with a heavy,
+sullen expression upon his strongly-marked face. The son, on the other
+hand, had dropped all that jaunty, dashing style which had characterized
+him, and the ferocity of a dangerous wild beast gleamed in his dark eyes
+and distorted his handsome features. The Inspector said nothing, but,
+stepping to the door, he blew his whistle. Two of his constables came at
+the call.
+
+"I have no alternative, Mr. Cunningham," said he. "I trust that this may
+all prove to be an absurd mistake; but you can see that----Ah, would
+you? Drop it!" He struck out with his hand, and a revolver, which the
+younger man was in the act of cocking, clattered down upon the floor.
+
+[Illustration: "BENDING OVER THE PROSTRATE FIGURE OF SHERLOCK HOLMES."]
+
+"Keep that," said Holmes, quickly putting his foot upon it. "You will
+find it useful at the trial. But this is what we really wanted." He held
+up a little crumpled piece of paper.
+
+"The remainder of the sheet!" cried the Inspector.
+
+"Precisely."
+
+"And where was it?"
+
+"Where I was sure it must be. I'll make the whole matter clear to you
+presently. I think, Colonel, that you and Watson might return now, and I
+will be with you again in an hour at the furthest. The Inspector and I
+must have a word with the prisoners; but you will certainly see me back
+at luncheon time."
+
+Sherlock Holmes was as good as his word, for about one o'clock he
+rejoined us in the Colonel's smoking-room. He was accompanied by a
+little, elderly gentleman, who was introduced to me as the Mr. Acton
+whose house had been the scene of the original burglary.
+
+"I wished Mr. Acton to be present while I demonstrated this small matter
+to you," said Holmes, "for it is natural that he should take a keen
+interest in the details. I am afraid, my dear Colonel, that you must
+regret the hour that you took in such a stormy petrel as I am."
+
+"On the contrary," answered the Colonel, warmly, "I consider it the
+greatest privilege to have been permitted to study your methods of
+working. I confess that they quite surpass my expectations, and that I
+am utterly unable to account for your result. I have not yet seen the
+vestige of a clue."
+
+"I am afraid that my explanation may disillusionize you, but it has
+always been my habit to hide none of my methods, either from my friend
+Watson or from anyone who might take an intelligent interest in them.
+But first, as I am rather shaken by the knocking about which I had in
+the dressing-room, I think that I shall help myself to a dash of your
+brandy, Colonel. My strength has been rather tried of late."
+
+"I trust you had no more of those nervous attacks."
+
+Sherlock Holmes laughed heartily. "We will come to that in its turn,"
+said he. "I will lay an account of the case before you in its due order,
+showing you the various points which guided me in my decision. Pray
+interrupt me if there is any inference which is not perfectly clear to
+you.
+
+"It is of the highest importance in the art of detection to be able to
+recognise out of a number of facts which are incidental and which vital.
+Otherwise your energy and attention must be dissipated instead of being
+concentrated. Now, in this case there was not the slightest doubt in my
+mind from the first that the key of the whole matter must be looked for
+in the scrap of paper in the dead man's hand.
+
+"Before going into this I would draw your attention to the fact that if
+Alec Cunningham's narrative was correct, and if the assailant after
+shooting William Kirwan had _instantly_ fled, then it obviously could
+not be he who tore the paper from the dead man's hand. But if it was not
+he, it must have been Alec Cunningham himself, for by the time that the
+old man had descended several servants were upon the scene. The point is
+a simple one, but the Inspector had overlooked it because he had started
+with the supposition that these county magnates had had nothing to do
+with the matter. Now, I make a point of never having any prejudices and
+of following docilely wherever fact may lead me, and so in the very
+first stage of the investigation I found myself looking a little askance
+at the part which had been played by Mr. Alec Cunningham.
+
+[Illustration: "THE POINT IS A SIMPLE ONE."]
+
+"And now I made a very careful examination of the corner of paper which
+the Inspector had submitted to us. It was at once clear to me that it
+formed part of a very remarkable document. Here it is. Do you not now
+observe something very suggestive about it?"
+
+"It has a very irregular look," said the Colonel.
+
+"My dear sir," cried Holmes, "there cannot be the least doubt in the
+world that it has been written by two persons doing alternate words.
+When I draw your attention to the strong t's of 'at' and 'to' and ask
+you to compare them with the weak ones of 'quarter' and 'twelve,' you
+will instantly recognise the fact. A very brief analysis of those four
+words would enable you to say with the utmost confidence that the
+'learn' and the 'maybe' are written in the stronger hand, and the 'what'
+in the weaker."
+
+"By Jove, it's as clear as day!" cried the Colonel. "Why on earth should
+two men write a letter in such a fashion?"
+
+"Obviously the business was a bad one, and one of the men who distrusted
+the other was determined that, whatever was done, each should have an
+equal hand in it. Now, of the two men it is clear that the one who wrote
+the 'at' and 'to' was the ring-leader."
+
+"How do you get at that?"
+
+"We might deduce it from the mere character of the one hand as compared
+with the other. But we have more assured reasons than that for supposing
+it. If you examine this scrap with attention you will come to the
+conclusion that the man with the stronger hand wrote all his words
+first, leaving blanks for the other to fill up. These blanks were not
+always sufficient, and you can see that the second man had a squeeze to
+fit his 'quarter' in between the 'at' and the 'to,' showing that the
+latter were already written. The man who wrote all his words first is
+undoubtedly the man who planned this affair."
+
+"Excellent!" cried Mr. Acton.
+
+"But very superficial," said Holmes. "We come now, however, to a point
+which is of importance. You may not be aware that the deduction of a
+man's age from his writing is one which has been brought to considerable
+accuracy by experts. In normal cases one can place a man in his true
+decade with tolerable confidence. I say normal cases, because ill-health
+and physical weakness reproduce the signs of old age, even when the
+invalid is a youth. In this case, looking at the bold, strong hand of
+the one, and the rather broken-backed appearance of the other, which
+still retains its legibility, although the t's have begun to lose their
+crossings, we can say that the one was a young man, and the other was
+advanced in years without being positively decrepit."
+
+"Excellent!" cried Mr. Acton again.
+
+"There is a further point, however, which is subtler and of greater
+interest. There is something in common between these hands. They belong
+to men who are blood-relatives. It may be most obvious to you in the
+Greek e's, but to me there are many small points which indicate the same
+thing. I have no doubt at all that a family mannerism can be traced in
+these two specimens of writing. I am only, of course, giving you the
+leading results now of my examination of the paper. There were
+twenty-three other deductions which would be of more interest to experts
+than to you. They all tended to deepen the impression upon my mind that
+the Cunninghams, father and son, had written this letter.
+
+"Having got so far, my next step was, of course, to examine into the
+details of the crime and to see how far they would help us. I went up to
+the house with the Inspector, and saw all that was to be seen. The wound
+upon the dead man was, as I was able to determine with absolute
+confidence, fired from a revolver at the distance of something over four
+yards. There was no powder-blackening on the clothes. Evidently,
+therefore, Alec Cunningham had lied when he said that the two men were
+struggling when the shot was fired. Again, both father and son agreed as
+to the place where the man escaped into the road. At that point,
+however, as it happens, there is a broadish ditch, moist at the bottom.
+As there were no indications of boot-marks about this ditch, I was
+absolutely sure not only that the Cunninghams had again lied, but that
+there had never been any unknown man upon the scene at all.
+
+"And now I had to consider the motive of this singular crime. To get at
+this I endeavoured first of all to solve the reason of the original
+burglary at Mr. Acton's. I understood from something which the Colonel
+told us that a law-suit, had been going on between you, Mr. Acton, and
+the Cunninghams. Of course, it instantly occurred to me that they had
+broken into your library with the intention of getting at some document
+which might be of importance in the case."
+
+"Precisely so," said Mr. Acton; "there can be no possible doubt as to
+their intentions. I have the clearest claim upon half their present
+estate, and if they could have found a single paper--which, fortunately,
+was in the strong box of my solicitors--they would undoubtedly have
+crippled our case."
+
+[Illustration: "THERE WAS NO POWDER-BLACKENING ON THE CLOTHES."]
+
+"There you are!" said Holmes, smiling. "It was a dangerous, reckless
+attempt in which I seem to trace the influence of young Alec. Having
+found nothing, they tried to divert suspicion by making it appear to be
+an ordinary burglary, to which end they carried off whatever they could
+lay their hands upon. That is all clear enough, but there was much that
+was still obscure. What I wanted above all was to get the missing part
+of that note. I was certain that Alec had torn it out of the dead man's
+hand, and almost certain that he must have thrust it into the pocket of
+his dressing-gown. Where else could he have put it? The only question
+was whether it was still there. It was worth an effort to find out, and
+for that object we all went up to the house.
+
+"The Cunninghams joined us, as you doubtless remember, outside the
+kitchen door. It was, of course, of the very first importance that they
+should not be reminded of the existence of this paper, otherwise they
+would naturally destroy it without delay. The Inspector was about to
+tell them the importance which we attached to it when, by the luckiest
+chance in the world, I tumbled down in a sort of fit and so changed the
+conversation."
+
+"Good heavens!" cried the Colonel, laughing. "Do you mean to say all our
+sympathy was wasted and your fit an imposture?"
+
+"Speaking professionally, it was admirably done," cried I, looking in
+amazement at this man who was for ever confounding me with some new
+phase of his astuteness.
+
+"It is an art which is often useful," said he. "When I recovered I
+managed by a device, which had, perhaps, some little merit of ingenuity,
+to get old Cunningham to write the word 'twelve,' so that I might
+compare it with the 'twelve' upon the paper."
+
+"Oh, what an ass I have been!" I exclaimed.
+
+"I could see that you were commiserating with me over my weakness," said
+Holmes, laughing. "I was sorry to cause you the sympathetic pain which I
+know that you felt. We then went upstairs together, and having entered
+the room and seen the dressing-gown hanging up behind the door, I
+contrived by upsetting a table to engage their attention for the moment
+and slipped back to examine the pockets. I had hardly got the paper,
+however, which was, as I had expected, in one of them, when the two
+Cunninghams were on me, and would, I verily believe, have murdered me
+then and there but for your prompt and friendly aid. As it is, I feel
+that young man's grip on my throat now, and the father has twisted my
+wrist round in the effort to get the paper out of my hand. They saw that
+I must know all about it, you see, and the sudden change from absolute
+security to complete despair made them perfectly desperate.
+
+"I had a little talk with old Cunningham afterwards as to the motive of
+the crime. He was tractable enough, though his son was a perfect demon,
+ready to blow out his own or anybody else's brains if he could have got
+to his revolver. When Cunningham saw that the case against him was so
+strong he lost all heart, and made a clean breast of everything. It
+seems that William had secretly followed his two masters on the night
+when they made their raid upon Mr. Acton's, and, having thus got them
+into his power, proceeded under threats of exposure to levy blackmail
+upon them. Mister Alec, however, was a dangerous man to play games of
+that sort with. It was a stroke of positive genius on his part to see in
+the burglary scare, which was convulsing the country side, an
+opportunity of plausibly getting rid of the man whom he feared. William
+was decoyed up and shot; and, had they only got the whole of the note,
+and paid a little more attention to detail in their accessories, it is
+very possible that suspicion might never have been aroused."
+
+"And the note?" I asked.
+
+Sherlock Holmes placed the subjoined paper before us:--
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"It is very much the sort of thing that I expected," said he. "Of
+course, we do not yet know what the relations may have been between Alec
+Cunningham, William Kirwan, and Annie Morrison. The result shows that
+the trap was skilfully baited. I am sure that you cannot fail to be
+delighted with the traces of heredity shown in the p's and in the tails
+of the g's. The absence of the i-dots in the old man's writing is also
+most characteristic. Watson, I think our quiet rest in the country has
+been a distinct success, and I shall certainly return, much invigorated,
+to Baker Street to-morrow."
+
+
+
+
+_Beauties._
+
+
+[Illustration: _Miss Ella Banister._]
+
+[Illustration: _Miss A Hughes_]
+
+[Illustration: _Miss Alice Ravenscroft._]
+
+_From Photos. by Messrs. Bassano, Old Bond Street._
+
+[Illustration: _Miss Friend._
+
+_From a Photo. by W. & D. Downey._]
+
+[Illustration: _Miss C. L. Foote._
+
+_From a Photo. by W. & D. Downey._]
+
+[Illustration: _Mrs. Marsh._
+
+_From a Photo. by Messrs. Bassano, Old Bond Street._]
+
+[Illustration: _Miss Norah Williams._
+
+_From Photos. by Messrs. Bassano, Old Bond Street._]
+
+[Illustration: _Miss L. Harold._]
+
+[Illustration: _Lady Aberdeen._
+
+_Photo. by Barraud_]
+
+
+
+
+LIEUTENANT GAUTHIER
+
+By Jose de Campos
+
+FROM THE FRENCH OF JOSE DE CAMPOS. AN EPISODE OF THE CRIMEAN WAR.
+APPROVED AND AUTHORIZED BY GENERAL SAUSSIER, MILITARY COMMANDER OF
+PARIS.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+Nicolas Gauthier, Sergeant-Major in the Foreign Legion, was about
+twenty-six years of age. He was strikingly handsome, with black hair and
+moustache and a pale complexion. His dark eyes were perhaps somewhat
+dreamy and intensely sad, but they had a certain expression of
+gentleness and candour which won all hearts.
+
+He was above the medium height, upright and broad-shouldered, and was
+altogether more fitted for a cuirassier than for a foot-soldier. As,
+however, he had entered the army from choice, it was for him to select
+the arms he preferred.
+
+He had undoubtedly military tastes, but he had evidently some family
+trouble or some love affair which had made him anxious to leave Paris
+and to go to Africa with the Foreign Legion (which, as everyone knows,
+is always the first regiment to be called out in case of war).
+
+He had been in the garrison at Constantine, and while there had been a
+great favourite with all the ladies, and the men had envied him.
+
+It could scarcely be wondered at, for he was so handsome, and then, too,
+he had such a martial bearing and such pleasant, attractive manners.
+
+All the sensation he caused was lost upon him, for he did not even seem
+to notice it himself.
+
+He was a good soldier: subordinate to his superiors, and always
+indulgent to the men under his command, and, consequently, a great
+favourite in the Legion.
+
+When Napoleon III. was reviewing the troops, he noticed Gauthier, who
+was at that time only a sub-officer. He made inquiries about him, and a
+fortnight later Gauthier was appointed sergeant-major.
+
+It was evident that some great sorrow was weighing on him, for when he
+was free from his military duties, instead of going out with his
+comrades to any places of amusement, he would go off by himself for
+long, solitary walks.
+
+Several times, on seeing him strolling along far from the walls of the
+city, the other officers had warned him of the risk he ran of being
+surprised by one of those bands of Arabs who wander about outside the
+Algerian cities, and who take their revenge on any European who falls
+into their hands for the yoke that has been put on to them.
+
+Sergeant Gauthier took very little notice of these warnings. He loved
+solitude and was perfectly fearless. No one knew why he was so sad.
+Certainly he had lately lost his mother, and still wore a badge of crape
+on his arm. Of course, this had increased his melancholy, but it was not
+the original cause of it.
+
+The war with Russia had just been declared. Gauthier, like a great many
+other officers and sub-officers, was tired of the monotony of garrison
+life, and volunteered to join the regiments which were to be sent to the
+Crimea. The Minister of War dispatched the Foreign Legion, to the great
+joy of Gauthier. His brother officers noticed that he was almost gay,
+not at all like his former self.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+He soon distinguished himself; was always foremost in the fight. His
+courage and _sang-froid_ won the admiration of all. He was wounded, but
+he cared little for that; and shortly after he was promoted to the rank
+of sub-lieutenant.
+
+Gauthier was very intimate with Lieutenant Saussier, another hero who
+had gone through the "baptism of fire" in Africa, and whose great valour
+and integrity have won for him the high office he now holds.
+
+These two soldiers were of the same metal: they were able to understand
+and appreciate each other, and were almost inseparable.
+
+One day during the siege of Sebastopol, Lieutenant Saussier said to his
+friend:--
+
+"Gauthier, may I ask you a question?"
+
+"Two questions, if you like."
+
+"You won't think it mere curiosity?"
+
+"Are we not friends, Saussier?"
+
+"Yes, but perhaps this is a secret----"
+
+"I have only one secret in the world, and as you do not know _that_ and
+could not even have an idea of it, there is no fear, so you can speak
+out."
+
+"Well, will you tell me what is the cause of your sadness, I might
+almost say bitterness? When we left Africa I thought you had left it
+behind you; but now in Russia it is worse than ever."
+
+At this unexpected question Gauthier started, then trying to smile he
+answered:--
+
+"It must be a kind of complaint born in me, and perhaps the change of
+climate aggravates it."
+
+"Perhaps so," said Lieutenant Saussier, slowly, and watching the
+expression of his friend's face.
+
+"This cold goes right through me to my very bones," said Gauthier,
+shivering.
+
+Saussier quite understood that his friend meant, "Let us change the
+subject," but he continued:--
+
+"May I ask you another question?"
+
+"You seem to have a few to ask to-day," said Gauthier, looking rather
+annoyed.
+
+"I have often wanted to speak to you, but have never dared before."
+
+"Well, to-day you don't seem afraid of running the risk."
+
+"If it vexes you, don't answer me."
+
+"Oh, I don't mind. I have had one; I may as well have the next."
+
+"Well, will you tell me why, every time there is an engagement, you take
+such pains to find out the name of the chief who commands the enemy?"
+
+This time Gauthier was visibly annoyed. He answered, after a few
+minutes' hesitation, "Because some day I intend writing the history of
+the Crimean War. It is only natural I should want to know the names of
+the commanders on the other side."
+
+"Oh! of course," said Saussier, feeling rather disconcerted.
+
+For some minutes the two friends continued their walk in silence. There
+was no sound but the crunching of the snow under their heavy boots, for
+it had been snowing hard in the district of Simferopol, and a thick
+white mantle covered the ground.
+
+Lieutenant Saussier looked at Gauthier, and in spite of his friend's
+attempt to turn away his head, Saussier saw that there were tears in his
+eyes.
+
+"Forgive me for asking you!" he exclaimed. "I had no idea of causing you
+pain."
+
+"How do you know you have?" asked Gauthier, passing his arm through that
+of his friend.
+
+"Don't try and hide it. I can see that, quite unintentional as it was, I
+have pained you with my questions."
+
+"It is nothing, nothing at all; or rather your questions brought to mind
+something in my past life. It is only natural that you should have asked
+me, and as a proof of my friendship I will tell you all."
+
+"No, no! Indeed I do not want you to. We will not talk about it. I am
+awfully sorry to have spoken of it."
+
+"After all, you are my greatest friend. Why should I not tell you about
+it? Perhaps, too, it might relieve me to speak of my trouble."
+
+"If it will be any relief to you, tell me; but if not, why, do not let
+us say any more about it."
+
+[Illustration: YOU ARE MY GREATEST FRIEND.]
+
+"I would rather tell you. Life is very uncertain on the battlefield, and
+I would rather not die with this secret untold. Perhaps, too, if you
+knew it you might be able to help me."
+
+"If I could help you in any way, you know you have only to tell me how."
+
+"Well, you shall hear all. You know that, before leaving Algeria, I went
+to Paris with a three months' leave."
+
+"Which you never stayed out, for you were back again in six weeks."
+
+"What could I do with myself in that Babylon, where everyone was gay
+while I was so wretched? How could I stand the sardonic laughter and
+gaiety around me when my heart was aching bitterly? As soon as my poor
+mother was buried I was only too anxious to get from that city of
+luxury, where the artificial lights only blinded and dazzled me.
+
+"I wanted to get away from the noise and the vice and the hypocrisy, and
+go to the desert and be alone with Nature and with reality, where I
+could breathe pure, wholesome air, and not that atmosphere which
+bewilders and poisons you. I left what we _call_ the civilized world to
+go to the savages whom I prefer.
+
+"I gave up society for solitude, peace for war. I despise my life and
+long for death, but death does not come at my call."
+
+Gauthier stopped for a minute, overcome with emotion.
+
+"You are too sensitive," said Saussier.
+
+"Perhaps so, but I have had something to bear."
+
+"Is it a love affair, Gauthier?"
+
+"No, no! I have never loved anyone, and besides, I am one of those who
+must not, who dare not love----"
+
+"I do not understand."
+
+"No, I will explain. My mother, who was dying of consumption, brought on
+by some great grief that she had always suffered alone, sent for me to
+bid me farewell. Three days before her death I was at her bedside.
+
+"'My son,' she said, 'I have sent for you to tell you something which I
+feel you ought to know before my death. I have always led you to believe
+that your father was dead.'
+
+"'And he is not dead. I have felt sure of that for a long time.'
+
+"'How could you nave guessed it?' exclaimed my mother.
+
+"'By your sadness, and, too, because you have never taken me to his
+grave, nor even spoken of it. My poor mother, did he leave you?'
+
+"'No, no! Do not blame him; it was not his fault that he had to leave
+us.'
+
+"'He is in prison, then; but surely he is innocent?'
+
+"'No, he is quite free.'
+
+"'How is it, then----"
+
+"'Listen, but do not interrupt me, for I have not strength for much. The
+name you have, Gauthier, was my father's and mine, but not your
+father's, Nicolas. My father was a wealthy shipbuilder at Havre. He
+died in 1825. My mother sold everything, and then she and I went to
+Paris to live.
+
+"'She was ambitious for me and wished me to marry well. We had plenty of
+money, and as that opens most doors she managed to get introductions and
+invitations to her heart's content.
+
+"'I was nineteen, and people said I was beautiful. My mother paid great
+attention to my toilette, and by mixing in society I soon lost all
+traces of having been brought up in the provinces. There was a young
+Russian captain, Prince Nicolai Porthikopoff, whom I used to meet at
+different houses. He belonged to the Czar's Imperial Guard, and was an
+_attache_ of the Russian Embassy in Paris.
+
+"'He was very handsome, and was as noble at heart as he was by birth.
+
+"He loved me, and I returned his affection. At the end of six months he
+came to my mother and asked for my hand. Our engagement caused a great
+stir in Paris, it scandalized the aristocracy and caused jealousy in our
+own circle. Prince Nicolai cared nothing for the storm that he had
+roused.
+
+[Illustration: "HE CAME TO MY MOTHER AND ASKED FOR MY HAND."]
+
+"'There was so much gossip, and there was so much scheming to break off
+our engagement, that the Ambassador himself felt it his duty to inform
+the Czar. It appears the Czar only laughed at it all until the Princess
+Porthikopoff, your father's mother, wrote herself asking for his
+intervention, and declaring that she would never give her consent to our
+union. The Czar wrote a letter of advice to the Prince, but as it took
+no effect, and the Princess still insisted, the Czar objected formally
+to the marriage. Your father saw that it was hopeless, that there was no
+chance whatever of winning the consent of his mother or of his
+Sovereign. He proposed to me a desperate expedient, and I, young and
+inexperienced as I was, and believing that it would be for our mutual
+happiness, consented.
+
+"'We were to be married privately, but, as your father told me, the
+marriage would not be legal, as we could not have the necessary papers,
+and should even have to be married under assumed names, and in another
+country. He believed that then, when his mother saw that the honour of a
+Porthikopoff was at stake, she would take steps to have the ceremony
+performed again with the necessary formalities. He thought that she
+would do for the honour and pride of her family what she would not do
+for love of her son.
+
+"'I consented to everything; but, alas! a month later, seeing that your
+father continued to brave all authority, the Czar recalled him to St.
+Petersburg.
+
+"'Your father pleaded our cause but in vain! Nicholas I., proud autocrat
+as he was, and the Princess were both inexorable. Your father was
+exasperated, and he gave vent to his indignation. The result was that he
+was ordered to start the next day for Irkoutsk, in Siberia He was to be
+exiled! Exiled because he had loved me, because he wished to do his duty
+and make me his lawful wife! My mother and I went away to Lille, where
+you were born.
+
+"'The Prince, your father, was not allowed to write or receive letters
+without sending them first to the Governor to be read and approved. I
+happened to meet with someone who was going to Irkoutsk, and begged him
+to take a message to your father and to tell him of your birth. When
+this man returned he brought me a letter from your father, in which he
+said he was going to try and make his escape, and that he would never
+again set foot in Russia.
+
+"'Just at this time my mother died. Your father was not able to put his
+plan into execution, and a year later he was allowed to write to me, but
+merely to tell me the conditions on which Nicholas I. offered to allow
+his return from exile. The Czar had chosen a wife for him, and he was to
+renounce me for ever. Your father added that he was refusing such terms;
+that he would never break his vow to me, and preferred exile to what was
+offered him.
+
+"'He was right!' I exclaimed, proudly, for I was glad to find that I had
+no cause to blush for my father.
+
+"'It was noble of him!' said my mother, and her eyes filled with tears.
+'It was noble, but how could I accept such a sacrifice? I could not; it
+would have been too selfish. There was only one thing to do, and
+although in doing it I had to sacrifice all my womanly pride, my courage
+held out. I wrote to your father, telling him to accept the Czar's
+offer, as I myself was about to marry.'
+
+"'It was not true?'
+
+"'No! No! It was to save him. I wanted him to be free, to be happy if
+possible. As for me, all was over. He wrote to me, reproaching me, and
+it broke my heart. I did not reply to his letter. I went back to Paris,
+where I lived quietly and unknown, devoting myself entirely to you....
+Six months later I heard that he had married a Princess according to the
+will of the Czar, and that he was appointed captain.'
+
+"'Is he happy?'
+
+"'I have never heard another word about him, and as he has no idea of my
+whereabouts, he could never have made inquiries about me. Now you know
+all, you know the cause of my sadness and the secret of your birth. You
+must now judge between your father and your mother, and either pardon or
+condemn us, for, alas! my poor boy, you have no name and no future.'
+
+"My poor mother hid her face in her hands and sobbed in an agony of
+grief.
+
+"'I have nothing to forgive, mother; but if you wish me to judge my
+father and you, I can only say that you both did your duty and that your
+sacrifice was sublime. Society makes laws at its own pleasure, but in
+the sight of God, who surely is over all, your marriage was valid, and I
+have nothing to be ashamed of. On the contrary, you were both victims,
+and you suffered through your loyalty to each other--and your love was
+surely truer and more ideal than many which society recognises.'
+
+"My poor mother could not speak for some time, her emotion was so great.
+Later on she told me where I should find some papers, which I was to
+read after her death, and she added:--
+
+"'You will also find in the same drawer two things by which your father
+would always recognise you, if you should ever meet him and if you
+wished to make yourself known. I leave it entirely to you to act as you
+think best; but if you ever should see him, tell him that I was true to
+him, explain all, and tell him that I loved him to the last.'
+
+"Two days later my poor mother passed away. I was thus left an orphan
+and nameless. I was utterly alone in the world. I had not a creature to
+love me, and I knew that I must never dare to love anyone. Left to
+myself, I cursed the whole world and its prejudices and baseness."
+
+Gauthier covered his face with his hand, and Saussier, respecting his
+friend's grief, did not speak for some time. The two officers walked on
+through the snow without noticing where they were going.
+
+Suddenly Gauthier said, bitterly: "You understand now the cause of the
+melancholy that is always weighing on me?"
+
+"I do, indeed," replied Saussier.
+
+"The tortures of the Inquisition are nothing to what I endure, when I
+think of my poor mother suffering through all those years without a word
+of consolation from any living soul."
+
+"It must have been terrible!"
+
+"Then, too, you know now why I always find out the name of the Russian
+commander before every attack; for by now he must be at least a
+General."
+
+"Yes, it is indeed fearful!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Sebastopol had been besieged ever since October 9th, 1854. Marshal
+Canrobert commanded the troops with Lord Raglan.
+
+[Illustration: "TELL HIM THAT I LOVED HIM TO THE LAST."]
+
+Prince Mentschiskoff and Prince Todleben resisted the attack bravely.
+
+The sight of the city, which was all in ruins, exasperated the Russian
+Commander-in-Chief, and he ordered a sally, but the French and the
+English were well on guard and repulsed this desperate attempt.
+
+The attack was terrible, and the heroism on every side sublime.
+
+The most warlike of the besieged troops rushed against the French,
+preferring to have to do with the _furia francesca_ rather than with the
+British deliberation and _sang-froid_. The combat was sustained and
+desperate.
+
+Profiting by the confusion amongst the French troops, caused by the
+death of their Commander-in-Chief, the Russians succeeded in obtaining
+the first trench. The besiegers, however, got reinforcements and the
+struggle was continued.
+
+Two young officers, who were fighting side by side, attracted everyone's
+notice. They were in the first rank, and they led their soldiers into
+the thickest of the fray and cut down the enemy right and left.
+
+One of them was rather in advance of the other, and was encouraging his
+soldiers to follow him. Suddenly with his pistol he took aim at a
+Russian commander, who, on seeing that the enemy was gaining ground, had
+spurred his horse forward and was calling to his soldiers to advance.
+Another horseman, seeing the danger his chief was in, rushed before him,
+exclaiming:--
+
+"Take care, General Porthikopoff!"
+
+On hearing this the French officer dropped his murderous weapon and
+stood as if paralyzed, looking at his enemy.
+
+On receiving the warning the Prince had drawn out his pistol and fired
+at the French officer. The ball struck him, and he fell. His friend, who
+had just reached him, and who had also heard the Russian General's name,
+drew his men to the right where the enemy was strongest, exclaiming, in
+desperation: "Follow me! Follow me!"
+
+The Russian soldiers rushed at the young officer, who had fallen, and
+would have killed him, but, waving them off, he said he must speak with
+their General before he died.
+
+The Prince, astonished at the request at such a moment, consented.
+
+"What is it you have to say, and why did you not attempt to shoot me?"
+
+"I could not."
+
+"But what prevented you?"
+
+"Duty."
+
+"I do not understand."
+
+The young officer drew from his tunic a letter, a locket, and a small
+box, and handed them to the General.
+
+"What is the meaning of this?" exclaimed the Prince.
+
+"Look inside the locket."
+
+The Prince opened it and started. "My portrait and Madeline's!" Then,
+opening the box: "And her engagement ring! Where did you get these
+from?"
+
+"The letter will explain all."
+
+The Prince opened it, and, after glancing at it quickly, said: "And you
+are----"
+
+"Nicolas Gauthier."
+
+"And your mother?"
+
+"She is dead. Her love for you killed her."
+
+"That is not true, for she married another."
+
+"Never! She loved you to the last, and died with your name on her lips.
+Read the letter to the end."
+
+Mechanically the General read the letter, and then kissing the locket
+passionately: "I knew, I felt that Madeline was true!" he said, and then
+bending over Gauthier, he continued: "How did you recognise me, though?"
+
+"I heard them call you by your name."
+
+"That was why you would not fire?"
+
+"Yes. A son could not kill his father, even though he be his enemy."
+
+"But you allowed a father to kill his son?"
+
+"I could not help it. It was fate."
+
+"No, no, my son! You shall not die! You _must_ live!"
+
+"God wills otherwise, father. Farewell! I have only seen you for a
+minute, but I am satisfied."
+
+Gauthier made a great effort to get up, smiled at the Prince, and then
+fell back dead.
+
+"My boy, my boy!" exclaimed the Prince, in desperation, stooping over
+the dead body of his son. "Dead, dead, and killed by me, his father! And
+this is the work of our Czar! Oh, cruel fate!"
+
+[Illustration: "THE GENERAL REMAINED KNEELING BY THE SIDE OF HIS SON."]
+
+The General remained some minutes kneeling by the side of his son in
+mute despair, and then for the last time he sprang on to his horse and
+rushed into the thickest of the fray.
+
+"Prince! Prince! what are you doing there?" exclaimed a French officer
+at his side.
+
+"I am seeking death! I have killed my son, and I will not survive
+him----"
+
+He had scarcely finished when a ball struck him and he fell down dead.
+
+"Who can say there is no Providence! The father has not waited long to
+join his son," exclaimed the French officer, as he rushed on at the head
+of his men.
+
+For some time the result of the combat seemed uncertain, but at last the
+French won the day, and the Russians had to take refuge in Sebastopol.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When Marshal Canrobert went over the battlefield, he asked where the
+young officer was who belonged to the Foreign Legion, and who had fought
+so bravely.
+
+"He fell by the retrenchments," was the reply.
+
+The Commander-in-Chief rode over to the spot named and ordered the
+surgeon to examine the young officer who was lying on the ground. It
+was, however, too late.
+
+"There was another officer of the same Legion whom I saw fall there, to
+the left," said the Marshal.
+
+The young officer was brought and was told that his friend was dead.
+
+"It is a pity," he said to the Marshal, "for you have lost a true
+soldier."
+
+"What was his name?"
+
+"Nicolas Gauthier."
+
+"And yours?"
+
+"Felix Saussier."
+
+The Commander-in-Chief ordered the army to fall into rank, and then as
+they presented arms he took the Cross of the Legion of Honour which he
+was wearing himself and placed it on Lieutenant Saussier's breast.
+
+"Wear it proudly," he said; "it is the recompense that France accords to
+her bravest sons, and you well deserve it."
+
+Then taking another Cross from one of the officers who belonged to the
+Etat Major, he placed it on the body of Gauthier. "You, too, have well
+earned it," he said, "and shall take it with you to your grave."
+
+The troops filed off, after passing in front of the two officers, the
+one wounded and the other dead. Marshal Canrobert himself raised his
+sword and saluted the two heroes (the one, alas! had died too soon, and
+the other was destined to become one of the bravest Generals of France),
+and then passed on deeply moved, but satisfied with the victory, and
+ignorant of the drama which had taken place so near to him.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+_From Behind the Speaker's Chair._
+
+VI.
+
+(VIEWED BY HENRY W. LUCY.)
+
+
+[Sidenote: SIR WILLIAM HARCOURT.]
+
+Sir William Harcourt has been so long a familiar figure in the House of
+Commons, and has established so high a reputation, that it seems odd to
+speak of him as one of the successes of the new Session. But the phrase
+accurately describes his position. Circumstances connected with the
+personality of the Premier have given him opportunity to show what
+potentialities as Leader of the House modestly lurk behind his massive
+figure, and the result has been eminently satisfactory to his party and
+his friends. Sir William's early reputation was made as a brilliant
+swordsman of debate, most effective in attack. The very qualities that
+go to make success in that direction might lead to utter failure on the
+part of a Leader of the House.
+
+[Illustration: "MODESTLY LURKING."]
+
+If one sought for a word that would describe the leading characteristics
+of Sir William Harcourt in Parliament it would be found in the style
+aggressive. Perhaps the most fatal thing a Leader of the House of
+Commons could do would be to develop aggressiveness. The Leader must be
+a strong man--should be the strongest man on his side of the House. But
+his strength must be kept in reserve, and if he err on either side of
+this particular line, submissiveness should be his characteristic. The
+possession of this quality was the foundation of Mr. W. H. Smith's
+remarkable success as Leader. It is true he could not, had he tried,
+have varied his deferential attitude towards the House by one of sterner
+mould, and the House enjoys the situation more keenly if that
+alternative be existent. It took Mr. Smith as he was, and the two got on
+marvellously well together.
+
+Nothing known of Sir William Harcourt's Parliamentary manner forbade the
+apprehension that, occupying the box-seat, there would be incessant
+cracking of the whip. It was difficult in advance to imagine how he
+would be able to resist the opportunity of letting the lash fall on the
+back of a restive or a stubborn horse. The opportunity of saying a smart
+thing, at whatever cost, seemed with him irresistible. If only he had
+his jest they might have his estate; in this case the estate of his
+party.
+
+[Illustration: "AGGRESSIVE."]
+
+Reflection on an earlier experience of Sir William in the seat of the
+Leader might have caused these forebodings to cease. Four years ago,
+towards the close of the Session of 1889, the temporary withdrawal of
+Mr. Gladstone from the scene gave him his chance. It happened that the
+Government under the leadership of Mr. Smith, and, it was understood,
+on the personal instruction of Lord Salisbury, were pressing forward
+the Tithes Bill. They had an overwhelming, well-disciplined majority, and
+being pledged up to the hilt to carry the Bill, the issue seemed certain.
+Through a whole week Sir William led the numerically-overpowered
+Opposition, fighting the Bill at every step. The hampered Government
+were determined to get some sort of Bill passed, and, hopeless of
+achieving their earliest intention, foreshadowed another measure in a
+series of amendments laid on the table by the Attorney-General. The
+Opposition were not disposed to accept this with greater fervour than
+the other, and finally Mr. Smith announced a total withdrawal from the
+position.
+
+Nothing was finer throughout the brilliant campaign than Sir William
+Harcourt's lamentations over this conclusion. Having inflicted on a
+strong Government the humiliation of defeat upon a cherished measure,
+he, in a voice broken with emotion, held poor W. H. Smith up to the
+scorn of all good men as a heartless, depraved parent, who had abandoned
+by the wayside a promising infant.
+
+In the present Session Sir William, as Deputy Leader, finds himself in a
+position different from, and more difficult than, the one filled in
+August, 1889. He was then in the place of the Leader of the Opposition,
+and had a natural affinity for the duty of opposing. In the present
+Session he has been frequently and continuously called upon to perform
+the duties of Leader of the House, and his success, though not so
+brilliantly striking as in the short, sharp campaign against the Tithes
+Bill, has stood upon a broader and more permanent basis. The House of
+Commons, as Mr. Goschen learned during the experiments in Leadership
+which preceded his disappearance from the front rank, may be led, but
+cannot be driven.
+
+It is curious that two of the most aggressive controversialists in the
+House, being temporarily called to the Leadership, have shown themselves
+profoundly impressed with this truth. Like Lord Randolph Churchill, when
+he led the House, Sir William Harcourt appears on the Treasury Bench
+divested even of his side-arms. Like the Happy Warrior, his helmet is a
+hive for bees. His patience in time of trial has been pathetic, and,
+whatever may be his own feelings on the subject, the House has been
+amazed at his moderation. He has sat silent on the Treasury Bench by the
+hour, with Mr. Arthur Balfour, Mr. Chamberlain, Lord Randolph Churchill,
+and other old familiar adversaries, trailing tempting coat-tails before
+him.
+
+[Illustration: "THE HAPPY WARRIOR."]
+
+One night this Session, in debate on Uganda, Mr. Chamberlain interposed
+and delivered a brilliant, bitter speech, which deeply stirred a crowded
+House. It was drawing to the close of an important debate, and Mr.
+Chamberlain sat down at half-past eleven, leaving plenty of time for the
+Leader of the House to reply. To an old Parliamentary war-house the
+situation must have been sorely tempting. A party like to be sent off
+into the division lobby with a rattling speech from the Front Bench.
+There was ample time for a brisk twenty minutes' canter, and the crowded
+and excited sport. But there was nothing at stake on the division.
+Though Mr. Chamberlain could not withstand the opportunity of
+belabouring his old friends and colleagues, he did not intend to oppose
+the vote for Uganda, which would receive the hearty support of the
+Conservatives. Half an hour saved from speech-making would mean thirty
+minutes appropriated to getting forward with other votes in Committee of
+Supply. Sir William followed Mr. Chamberlain, and was welcomed with a
+ringing cheer; members settling themselves down in anticipated enjoyment
+of a rattling speech. When the applause subsided the Chancellor of the
+Exchequer contented himself with the observation that there had been a
+useful debate, the Committee had heard some excellent speeches, "and now
+let us get the vote."
+
+There was something touching in the depressed attitude of the right hon.
+gentleman as he performed this act of renunciation. What it cost him
+will, probably, never be known. But before progress was reported at
+midnight half-a-dozen votes had been taken.
+
+[Sidenote: THE WHIPS.]
+
+Of the various forms ambition takes in political life the most
+inscrutable is that which leads a man to the Whip's room. In
+Parliamentary affairs the Whip fills a place analogous to that of a
+sub-editor on a newspaper. He has (using the phrase in a Parliamentary
+sense) all the kicks and few of the half-pence. With the sub-editor, if
+anything goes wrong in the arrangement of the paper he is held
+responsible, whilst if any triumph is achieved, no halo of the resultant
+glory for a moment lights up the habitual obscurity of his head. It is
+the same, in its way, with the Whip. His work is incessant, and for the
+most part is drudgery. His reward is a possible Peerage, a Colonial
+Governorship, a First Commissionership of Works, a Postmaster-Generalship,
+or, as Sir William Dyke found at the close of a tremendous spell of
+work, a Privy Councillorship.
+
+[Illustration: SIR WILLIAM DYKE.]
+
+Yet it often comes to pass that the fate of a Ministry and the destiny
+of the Empire depend upon the Whip. A bad division, even though it be
+plainly due to accidental circumstances, habitually influences the
+course of a Ministry, sometimes giving their policy a crucial turn, and
+at least exercising an important influence on the course of business in
+the current Session.
+
+An example of this was furnished early in the present Session by a
+division taken on proposals for a Saturday sitting made necessary by
+obstruction. Up to the announcement of the figures it had been
+obstinately settled that the Second Reading of the Home Rule Bill should
+be moved before Easter. The Opposition had pleaded and threatened. Mr.
+Gladstone stood firm, and only three days before this momentous Friday
+had almost impatiently reiterated his determination to move the Second
+Reading of the Bill on the day appointed when leave was given to
+introduce it. The normal majority of forty reduced to twenty-one worked
+instant and magic charm. The falling-off had no political significance.
+Everyone knew it arose from the accidental absence of a number of the
+Irish members called home on local business. But there it was, and on
+the following Monday Sir William Harcourt, on behalf of the Premier,
+announced that the Home Rule Bill would not be taken till after Easter.
+
+For other members of the Ministry there is occasional surcease from
+work, and some opportunity for recreation. For the Whip there is none.
+He begins his labour with the arrival of the morning post, and keeps at
+it till the Speaker has left the chair, and the principal door-keeper
+standing out on the matting before the doorway cries aloud: "The usual
+time!"
+
+That ceremony is a quaint relic of far-off days before penny papers
+were, and the means of communicating with members were circumscribed. It
+is the elliptical form of making known to members that at the next
+sitting the Speaker will take the chair at the usual time. For ordinary
+members, even for Ministers, unless they must be in their place to
+answer a question, "the usual time" means whatever hour best suits their
+convenience. The Whip is in his room even before the Speaker takes the
+chair, and it is merely a change of the scene of labour from his office
+at the Treasury. He remains till the House is up, whether the business
+be brisk or lifeless.
+
+In truth, at times when the House is reduced almost to a state of coma,
+the duties of the Whip become more arduous and exacting. These are the
+occasions when gentle malice loves to bring about a count-out. If it is
+a private members' night the Whips have no responsibility in the matter
+of keeping a House, and have even been suspected of occasionally
+conniving in the beneficent plot of dispersing it. But just now private
+members' nights stand in the same relation to the Session as the
+sententious traveller found to be the case with snakes in Iceland. There
+are none. Every night is a Government night, and weariness of flesh and
+spirit naturally suggests a count-out. The regular business of the Whip
+is to see that there are within call sufficient members to frustrate the
+designs of the casual counter-out.
+
+[Illustration: MR. JARRETT, DOOR-KEEPER.]
+
+[Sidenote: "BOBBY" SPENCER.]
+
+Mr. Gladstone and other members of the Cabinet, on many dull nights of
+this Session, have been cheered on crossing the lobby by the sight of
+Mr. "Bobby" Spencer gracefully tripping about, note-book in hand,
+holding an interminable succession of members in brief but animated
+conversation. He is not making a book for the Derby or Goodwood, as one
+might suspect. "Do you dine here to-night?" is his insinuating inquiry,
+and till he has listed more than enough men to "make a House" in case of
+need, he does not feel assured of the safety of the British
+Constitution, and therefore does not rest.
+
+[Illustration: "BOBBY" SPENCER.]
+
+This is part of the ordinary work of the average night. When an
+important division is impending, the labour imposed upon the Whip is
+Titanic. He, of course, knows every individual member of his flock. With
+a critical division pending he must know more, ascertaining where he is
+and, above all, where he will be on the night of the division. It is at
+these crises that the personal characteristics of the Whip are tested. A
+successful Whip should be almost loved, and not a little feared. He
+should ever wear the silken glove, but there should be borne in upon the
+consciousness of those with whom he has to deal that it covers an iron
+hand.
+
+It happens just now that both political parties in the House of Commons
+are happy in the possession of almost model Whips. As was said by a
+shrewd observer, no one looking at Mr. Marjoribanks or Mr. Akers-Douglas
+as they lounge about the Lobby "would suppose they could say 'Bo!' to a
+goose." The goose, however, would do well not to push the experiment of
+forbearance too far. All through the last Parliament Mr. Akers-Douglas
+held his men together with a light, firm hand, that was the admiration
+and despair of the other side. Mr. Marjoribanks has, up to this present
+time of writing, maintained the highest standard of success in Whipping.
+
+[Sidenote: MR. MARJORIBANKS.]
+
+With a Ministerial majority standing at a maximum of forty, it is of the
+utmost importance to the Government that there shall be no sign of
+falling off. If the forty were diminished even by a unit, a storm of
+cheering would rise from the Opposition Benches, and Ministerialists
+would be correspondingly depressed. With the exception named, due to
+circumstances entirely beyond the Whip's control, Mr. Marjoribanks has
+in all divisions, big or small, mustered his maximum majority of forty,
+and has usually exceeded it.
+
+That means not only unfailing assiduity and admirable business
+management, but personal popularity on the part of the Whip. Aside from
+party considerations, no Liberal would like to "disoblige Marjoribanks,"
+who is as popular with the Irish contingent as he is with the main body
+of the British members. He is fortunate in his colleagues--
+
+Mr. Ellis, Mr. Spencer, Mr. Causton, and Mr. McArthur. The Whip's
+department has not always been a strong feature in a Liberal
+Administration. In the present Government it is one of the strongest.
+
+[Illustration: MR. MARJORIBANKS.]
+
+Why Mr. Marjoribanks should be content to serve as Whip is one of the
+mysteries that surround the situation. He does not want a peerage, since
+that will come to him in the ordinary course of nature. He is one of the
+personages in political life who excite the sympathy of Lord Rosebery,
+inasmuch as he must be a peer _malgre lui_. He served a long
+apprenticeship when the office of Whip was more than usually thankless,
+his party being in opposition. When Mr. Gladstone's Ministry was formed,
+it was assumed, as a matter of course, that Mr. Marjoribanks would have
+found for him office in other department than that of the Whip. But Mr.
+Gladstone, very shrewdly from the Leader's point of view, felt that no
+one would be more useful to the party in the office vacated by Mr.
+Arnold Morley than Mr. Marjoribanks. Mr. Marjoribanks, naturally
+disposed to think last of his own interests and inclinations, did not
+openly demur.
+
+[Sidenote: ALL-NIGHT SITTINGS.]
+
+The Whip's post, though hard enough, is much lightened by adoption of
+the twelve o'clock rule. Time was, at no distant date, when for some
+months in the Session Whips were accustomed to go home in broad
+daylight. It is true the House at that time met an hour later in the
+afternoon, but the earlier buckling to is a light price to pay for the
+certainty that shortly after midnight all will be over. Even now the
+twelve o'clock rule may be suspended, and this first Session of the new
+Parliament has shown that all-night sittings are not yet impossible. But
+so unaccustomed is the present House to them, that when one became
+necessary on the Mutiny Bill everyone and everything was found
+unprepared. In the old days, when Mr. Biggar was in his prime, the
+commissariat were always prepared for an all-night sitting. When, this
+Session, the House sat up all night on the Mutiny Bill, the larder was
+cleared out in the first hour after midnight.
+
+It is not generally known how nearly the valuable life of the Chairman
+of Ways and Means was on that occasion sacrificed at the post of duty.
+Having lost earlier chances by remaining in the chair, it was only at
+four o'clock in the morning he was rescued from famine by the daring
+foraging of Mr. Herbert Gladstone, who, the House being cleared for one
+of the divisions, brought in a cup of tea and a poached egg on toast,
+which the Chairman disposed of at the table.
+
+[Illustration: MR. MELLOR.]
+
+Mr. Mellor is an old Parliamentary campaigner, and remembers several
+occasions when, living injudiciously near the House, he was brought out
+of bed to assist in withstanding obstruction. Being called up one
+morning by an imperative request to repair to the House, he observed a
+man violently ringing at the bell of the house of a neighbour, also a
+member of the House of Commons. On returning two hours later, he found
+the man still there, diligently ringing at the bell.
+
+"What's the matter?" he asked; "anyone ill?"
+
+"No, sir," said the man. "Lord Richard Grosvenor sent me to bring Mr.
+---- down to the House, and said I was not to come away without him."
+
+"Ah, well, you can go off now; the House is up."
+
+Mr. ----, it turned out on subsequent inquiry, had gone down to Brighton
+with his family, and the servants left at home did not think it
+necessary to answer a bell rung at this untimely hour.
+
+[Sidenote: "PAIRED FOR THE NIGHT."]
+
+It was about the same time, in the Parliament of 1880, that another
+messenger from the Government Whip went forth in the early morning in
+search of a member. He lived in Queen Anne's Mansions, and the messenger
+explaining the urgency of his errand, the night porter conducted him to
+the bedroom door of the sleeping senator. Succeeding in awakening him,
+he delivered his message.
+
+"Give my compliments to Lord Richard Grosvenor," said the wife of the
+still somnolent M.P.; "tell him my husband has gone to bed, and is
+paired for the night."
+
+[Sidenote: BARE-HEADED.]
+
+It is an old tradition, observed to this day, though the origin of it is
+lost in the obscurity of the Middle Ages, that a Whip shall not appear
+in the Lobby with his head covered. It is true Mr. Marjoribanks does not
+observe this rule, but he is alone in the exception. All his
+predecessors, as far as I can remember, conformed to the regulation. In
+the last Parliament the earliest intimation of the formation of a new
+Radical party was the appearance in the Lobby of Mr. Jacoby without his
+hat. Inquiry excited by this phenomenon led to the disclosure that the
+Liberal opposition had broken off into a new section. There was some
+doubt as to who was the leader, but none as to the fact that Mr. Jacoby
+and Mr. Philip Stanhope were the Whips. Mr. Stanhope was not much in
+evidence. But on the day Mr. Jacoby accepted the appointment he locked
+up his hat and patrolled the Lobby with an air of sagacity and an
+appearance of brooding over State secrets, which at once raised the new
+party into a position of importance.
+
+[Illustration: MR. JACOBY.]
+
+Dick Power, most delightful of Irishmen, most popular of Whips, made
+through the Session regular play with his hat. Anyone familiar with his
+habits would know how the land lay from the Irish quarter. If Mr. Power
+appeared hatless in the Lobby, a storm was brewing, and before the
+Speaker left the chair there would, so to speak, be wigs on the green.
+If his genial face beamed from under his hat as he walked about the
+Lobby the weather was set fair, at least for the sitting.
+
+[Sidenote: THE WINSOME WIGGIN.]
+
+One of the duties of the junior Whips is to keep sentry-go at the door
+leading from the Lobby to the cloak-room, and so out into Palace Yard.
+When a division is expected, no member may pass out unless he is paired.
+That is not the only way by which escape from the House may be made. A
+member desirous of evading the scrutiny of the Whips might find at least
+two other ways of quitting the House. It is, however, a point of honour
+to use only this means of exit, and no member under whatsoever pressure
+would think of skulking out.
+
+For many nights through long Sessions, Lord Kensington sat on the bench
+to the left of the doorway, a terror to members who had pressing private
+engagements elsewhere, when a division was even possible. There is only
+one well-authenticated occasion when a member, being unpaired, succeeded
+in getting past Lord Kensington, and the result was not encouraging.
+
+[Illustration: "SKULKING OUT."]
+
+One night, Mr. Wiggin (now Sir Henry), the withdrawal of whose genial
+presence from the Parliamentary scene is regretted on both sides of the
+House, felt wearied with long attendance on his Parliamentary duties.
+There came upon him a weird longing to stroll out and spend an hour in a
+neighbouring educational establishment much frequented by members. He
+looked towards the doorway, but there was Lord Kensington steadfast at
+his post. Glancing again, Mr. Wiggin thought the Whip was asleep.
+Casually strolling by him he found that this was the case, and with
+something more than his usual agility, he passed through the doorway.
+
+Returning at the end of an hour he found Lord Kensington still at his
+post, and more than usually wide awake.
+
+"You owe me L25," said Mr. Wiggin.
+
+"How?" cried the astonished Whip.
+
+"If," said Mr. Wiggin, producing his unencumbered watch-chain and
+dangling it, "you hadn't been asleep just now, I wouldn't have got past
+you; if I hadn't got past you, I wouldn't have dropped in at the
+Aquarium; and if I hadn't looked in at the Aquarium, I shouldn't have
+had my watch stolen."
+
+_Quod erat demonstrandum._
+
+[Illustration: "ABSORBED."]
+
+[Sidenote: REMARKABLE FEAT OF A COUNTRY PAPER.]
+
+It was stated at the time, to the credit of the provincial Press, that
+at the very moment Mr. St. John Brodrick was delivering in the House of
+Commons his luminous speech on the Second Reading of the Home Rule Bill,
+his constituents at Guildford, thanks to the enterprise of the local
+weekly paper, were studying its convincing argument, lingering over the
+rhythm of its sentences, echoing the laughter and applause with which a
+crowded House punctuated it. I enjoyed the higher privilege of hearing
+the speech delivered, and was probably so absorbed that I was not
+conscious of the crowd on the benches, and do not recollect the laughter
+and applause. Indeed, my memory enshrines rather a feeling of regret
+that so painstaking and able an effort should have met with so chilling
+a reception, and that an heir-apparent to a peerage, who has had the
+courage to propose a scheme for the reform of the House of Lords, should
+receive such scant attention in the Commons.
+
+[Sidenote: _Il y a_ POWER _et_ POWER.]
+
+Mr. Brodrick, however, got off his speech, and the local paper came out
+with its verbatim report, a concatenation of circumstances not always
+achieved. In the high tide of the Parnell invasion of the House of
+Commons, there happened an accident that excited much merriment. Mr.
+O'Connor Power--one of the ablest debaters the early Irish party brought
+into the House, a gentleman who has with equal success given up to
+journalism what was meant for the House of Commons--had prepared a
+speech for a current debate. Desirous that his constituents should be at
+least on a footing of equality with an alien House of Commons, he sent a
+verbatim copy in advance to the editor of the local paper, an
+understanding being arrived at that it was not to be published till
+signal was received from Westminster that the hon. member was on his
+feet. It happened that Mr. O'Connor Power failed on that night to catch
+the Speaker's eye. Mr. Richard Power was more successful, and the local
+editor receiving through the ordinary Press agency intimation that "Mr.
+Power opposed the Bill," at once jumped to the conclusion that this was
+the cue for the verbatim speech. Mr. Power was speaking; there was not
+the slightest doubt that Mr. O'Connor Power, when he did speak, would
+oppose the Bill. So the formes were locked, the paper went to press, and
+the next morning County Mayo rang with the unuttered eloquence of its
+popular member, and Irishmen observed with satisfaction how, for once,
+the sullen Saxon had had his torpid humour stirred, being frequently
+incited to "loud cheers" and "much laughter."
+
+[Sidenote: SIR ELLIS ASHMEAD-BARTLETT'S DILEMMA.]
+
+In this same debate on the Second Reading of the Home Rule Bill, where
+the energy and enterprise of the provincial weekly Press was
+incidentally illustrated in connection with Mr. Brodrick's speech, there
+happened another episode which did not work out so well. Sir Ellis
+Ashmead-Bartlett broke the long silence of years by delivering a speech
+in the House of Commons. It was a great occasion, and naturally evoked
+supreme effort. It was, in its way, akin to the wooing of Jacob. For
+seven years that eminent diplomatist had worked and waited for Rachel,
+and might well rejoice, even in the possession of Leah, when the term of
+probation was over. For nearly seven years Mr. Ashmead-Bartlett had sat
+on the Treasury Bench wrapped in the silence of a Civil Lord of the
+Admiralty. Now his time was come, and he threw himself into the
+enjoyment of opportunity with almost pathetic vigour. It was eleven
+o'clock when he rose, and the debate must needs stand adjourned at
+midnight. When twelve o'clock struck, Sir Ellis was still in the full
+flow of his turgid eloquence. His speech was constructed on the
+principle of, and (except, perhaps, in the matter of necessity)
+resembled, the long bridge in Cowper's "Task"--
+
+    That with its wearisome but needful length
+    Bestrides the wintry flood.
+
+The scene and the atmosphere were sufficiently Arctic to bear out the
+comparison. The audience had long since fallen away, like leaves in
+wintry weather. In ordinary circumstances Sir Ellis, an old
+Parliamentary Hand, would have wound up his speech, and so made an end
+of it, just before the stroke of midnight gave the signal for the
+Speaker's leaving the chair.
+
+There were, however, two reasons, the agony of whose weight must have
+pressed sorely on the orator. One was the recollection of an incident in
+his career still talked of in the busy circles round Sheffield. One
+night in yesteryear he was announced to deliver a speech at a meeting
+held in Nottingham. "For greater accuracy"--as the Speaker says, when,
+coming back from the House of Lords on the opening day of a Session, he
+reads the Queen's Speech to hon. members who have two hours earlier
+studied it in the evening papers--Mr. Ashmead-Bartlett had written out
+his oration and supplied it to the Sheffield paper whose recognition of
+his status as a statesman merits reward. Proceedings at the Nottingham
+meeting were so protracted, and took such different lines from those
+projected, that the orator of the evening, when his turn came, found the
+night too far advanced for his ordered speech, which would in other
+respects have been beside the mark. He accordingly, impromptu, delivered
+quite another speech, probably better than the one laboriously prepared
+in the seclusion of the closet. In the hurry and excitement of the
+moment he forgot to warn the Sheffield editor, with the consequence that
+the other speech was printed in full and formed the groundwork of a
+laudatory leading article.
+
+[Illustration: SIR ELLIS ASHMEAD-BARTLETT.]
+
+That was one thing that agitated the mind of Sir Ellis, and probably
+gave a profounder thrill to his denunciation of Mr. Gladstone's iniquity
+in the matter of the Home Rule Bill. Another was that this later speech,
+with all its graceful air of ready wit, fervid fancy, and momentarily
+inspired argument, was also in print, and, according to current report,
+was in advance widely circulated among a friendly Press. It turned out
+to be impossible to recite it all before the adjournment; equally
+impossible to cut it down. That mighty engine, the Press, was already,
+in remote centres of civilization, throbbing with the inspiration of his
+energy, printing off the speech at so many hundreds an hour. It was
+impossible to communicate with the unconscious editors and mark the
+exact point at which the night's actual contribution to debate was
+arrested. There was only one thing to be done: that was boldly to take
+the fence. So Sir Ellis went on till twelve o'clock as if nothing were
+happening elsewhere, was pulled up by the adjournment, and, turning up
+bright and early with the meeting of the House next day, reeled off the
+rest regardless of the gibes of the enemy, who said some of the faithful
+papers had muddled the matter, reporting on Tuesday morning passages
+that were not delivered in the House of Commons till Tuesday night.
+
+[Sidenote: THE PITY OF IT.]
+
+These accidents have their comical aspect. When it comes to
+appropriating two hours of the time of a busy Legislature, they also
+have their serious side. The House of Commons is a debating assembly,
+not a lecture hall, where prosy papers may be read to sparse audiences.
+The House is seen at its best when masters of fence follow each other
+in swift succession, striking and parrying, the centre of an excited
+ring. A prevalence of the growing custom of reading laboriously-prepared
+papers will speedily bring it down to the level of the Congress meeting
+at Washington. There the practice has reached its natural and happy
+conclusion, inasmuch as members having prepared their papers are not
+obliged to read them. They hand them in to the printer, and, at a cost
+to the nation willingly borne in view of compensating circumstances,
+they are printed at length in the _Congressional Globe_.
+
+[Illustration: "REELING IT OFF."]
+
+Perhaps when we have our official report of debates in the House of
+Commons this also will follow. It is easy to imagine with what eagerness
+the House would welcome any alternative that should deliver it from the
+necessity, not of listening to these musty harangues--that, to do it
+justice, it never suffers--but of giving up an appreciable portion of
+its precious time to the gratification of ponderous, implacable,
+personal vanity.
+
+[Sidenote: THACKERAY ON THE SUBJECT.]
+
+There is one gleam of light flickering about this intrinsically
+melancholy topic in connection with the name of Thackeray. I have read
+somewhere that it was a kindred calamity of a public speaker which led
+to Thackeray's first appearance in print. At a time when the century was
+young, and the author of "Vanity Fair" was a lad at Charterhouse,
+Richard Lalor Sheil, the Irish lawyer and orator, had promised to
+deliver a speech to a public meeting assembled on Penenden Heath. In
+those days there were no staffs of special reporters, no telegraphs, nor
+anything less costly than post-chaises wherewith to establish rapid
+communication between country platforms and London newspaper offices.
+Sheil, rising to the height of the occasion, wrote out his speech, and,
+before leaving town, sent copies to the leading journals, in which it,
+on the following morning, duly appeared.
+
+Alack! when the orator reached the Heath he found the platform in
+possession of the police, who prohibited the meeting and would have none
+of the speech. The incident was much talked of, and the boy Thackeray
+set to and wrote in verse a parody on the printed but unspoken oration:
+Here is the last verse, as I remember it:--
+
+    "What though these heretics heard me not?"
+      Quoth he to his friend Canonical;
+    "My speech is safe in the _Times_, I wot,
+      And eke in the _Morning Chronicle_."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[_The original drawings of the illustrations in this Magazine are always
+on view, and on sale, in the Art Gallery at these offices, which is open
+to the public without charge._]
+
+
+
+
+_A Work of Accusation._
+
+BY HARRY HOW.
+
+
+"Suicide whilst in a state of temporary insanity."
+
+Such was the verdict of the coroner's jury, and they could scarcely have
+declared anything else--there was not a tittle of evidence implicating
+another as the perpetrator of the deed. The deceased was found lying in
+his studio at the foot of his easel, shot through the heart. The
+revolver--a six-chambered one--was tightly gripped in his hand. Four out
+of the six chambers remained undischarged. It must have been suicide,
+simple and premeditated! The inquiry into the death of the deceased
+revealed only one spark of anything approaching sensationalism. It was
+the evidence of the housekeeper--an old lady of distinctly nervous
+temperament--who wept bitterly. Previous to the sad occurrence she had
+heard the firing of a pistol some five or six times during a period of
+two days. On the first occasion she had hurried to the studio, and the
+alarmed state of her feelings was sufficient to cause her to overlook
+the formality of giving the customary tap at the door previous to
+entering. She entered the room, only to find the deceased artist holding
+a pistol--the one produced--and looking at its barrel, still smoking,
+earnestly. He burst into a hearty laugh when he saw her, and told her
+not to be frightened.
+
+"It is nothing, Mrs. Thompson," he said, "and should you hear the firing
+again, do not be alarmed. Don't be frightened."
+
+[Illustration: "DON'T BE FRIGHTENED."]
+
+So the firing was frequent, and though it played pitifully with the old
+housekeeper's nerves and shook her seventy-year-old bones considerably,
+she quietly submitted to it and "hoped it was all right."
+
+I knew Godfrey Huntingdon well. He often chatted over his pictures with
+me. As a medical man and a student somewhat beyond the range of physic
+and prescriptions, the pros and cons of an idea to be eventually carried
+to the canvas gave rise to many interesting and discussable points. I
+liked the man--he was so frank and true and positively simple in his
+unassuming manner. Poor fellow! He never dreamt for a moment that he was
+a genius, but what he did not know the public were quick to recognise.
+Every picture from his brush was watched and waited for--a canvas from
+him meant a vivid, striking, often sensational episode, which seemed to
+live. I have some of his work in my dining-room now. I often look at his
+figures. They are more human than anything I have seen by any other
+modern painter. They seem possessed of breath and beating hearts of
+their own, with tongues that want to speak, and eyes that reveal a
+thinking brain. The trees in his landscapes appear to be gently shaken
+by the breeze from across the moorland, the clouds only need touching by
+the breath of the firmament to lazily move across the face of the blue
+sky. He was indeed a genius.
+
+It was always an open question in the minds of the public and the
+judgment of the critics as to who excelled the other--Godfrey Huntingdon
+or Wilfred Colensoe. They both belonged to the same school of ideas.
+Their works were equally impressive, their figure and portrait painting
+particularly so, and the judges said it would be a life-long race
+between them for supremacy with the brush. Huntingdon's sad death was a
+terrible blow to the artistic world. I went to his funeral.
+
+He had not forgotten me. He left me all his studies. There were several
+hundreds of them. Many were familiar to me, for he had made them whilst
+we were smoking a pipe together, as I pointed out to him the necessary
+laws of science he must needs regard in order to insure accuracy in his
+work. The studies made quite a number of huge bundles, and in the
+evening I would delight in sorting them through. It was a long task, for
+I found something to admire and think over in every single one of them.
+
+A fortnight had passed away since they first came into my possession. I
+had only another parcel to go through, and I should be finished. I was
+quietly sitting in my chair with my legs stretched out on another chair,
+as is my custom--I find it remarkably restful--and lighting up my brier
+I cut the string of the last bundle. Slowly, one by one, I lifted up
+those pieces of brown paper. They were still objects of reverence to me.
+Here was the head of a child, a sweetly pretty child, and next to it a
+study of a dissipated character, the face of a man fast losing every
+working power of his brain and body by liquor. I realized the genius of
+my dead friend more and more.
+
+[Illustration: "SLOWLY I LIFTED UP THOSE PIECES OF BROWN PAPER."]
+
+I had gone through quite a score of these play studies, when my hand
+stretched out for another from the pile by my side. I turned the piece
+of paper round and round, and it was some time before I grasped what the
+subject was intended for. It appeared to be a piece of round tubing from
+which smoke was protruding. The next half-dozen studies were of a
+similar character. In one the smoke was very small, just a thin streak;
+in another it was a full volume, as though to represent the after effect
+of the discharge of a bullet from a revolver. I looked again. The chalk
+drawing of the tubing was evidently intended for the barrel of a pistol!
+Huntingdon always put the date on every study he made, and I found my
+hand trembling as I turned the paper over. Great heavens--10th October,
+1872--the day before his death! Another paper bore the same date, and
+the others had the date of the previous day--the 9th. Was his death,
+then, the result of an accident and not a suicide after all? Here was
+the simple explanation of it so far--here was the reason for the several
+shots which the old housekeeper had heard fired. He had discharged the
+revolver at these times in order to watch the effect and immediately
+place his impressions on the pieces of paper I now held in my hand. My
+knowledge of Godfrey Huntingdon--both medically and fraternally--told me
+that, at the time of his death, there was positively nothing on his mind
+to cause such an act, and I now began reasoning the whole within myself
+once again, as I had done many times since the occurrence.
+
+"It's a mystery--a terrible mystery!" I exclaimed, jumping up and
+commencing to pace the room. I walked that room for over an hour, and
+was only aroused from my reverie by the announcement of a servant that
+supper was served. I ate my meal in silence, and the deliberate
+mouthfuls I took, and my more than ordinarily methodical manner of
+eating, must have told my wife that to disturb my present inward
+argument would have been disastrous to the immediate prospects of
+domestic harmony. I had come to a conclusion. There is nothing like
+science and its accompanying occupations for balancing a man's brain. A
+game of chess is recreative concentration. So the study of science was
+with me, whilst physic was my profession. Scientific research and the
+weighing of Nature's problems had steadied my thoughts and cooled my
+actions. It was a settled thing with me that poor Huntingdon had been
+murdered. By whom? Scientific investigation had transformed me into a
+calculating individual. Every action, to me, could be proved as a
+proposition in Euclid or an algebraical problem. I therefore said
+nothing about my startling discovery, and decided to wait the
+possibility of a further suggestion coming in my way, and "proving it."
+
+I suppose it was the deep interest I took in all matters concerning art
+which brought so many artist-patients to my consulting room. Six months
+had passed since the fatal 11th October, and the public were loudly
+expressing their approval of a marvellously impressive bit of painting
+by Wilfred Colensoe, which was the feature--and very justly so--of one
+of the early spring exhibitions. It was the picture of a duel--a very
+realistic canvas indeed. The young man--lying bleeding on the
+ground--almost told the story of the attempted avenge of an action
+towards someone dear to him on the part of an elderly _roue_, whose
+still-smoking revolver was in his hand. Colensoe came to see me one
+morning. He was a remarkably handsome man, classically featured, with
+hair picturesquely scattered with streaks of silver.
+
+"Done up, eh?" I said to him.
+
+"Done up is the word," he answered.
+
+"You've been doing too much," I said, looking into his grey eyes as I
+held his hand a moment. "You must cease work for a time. Get away from
+your easel, go abroad, and forget to take your brushes with you. Go
+anywhere, a hundred miles from a retail colourman's."
+
+[Illustration: "'YOU'VE BEEN DOING TOO MUCH,' I SAID."]
+
+"My dear doctor," he answered, "your prescription is too strong. You
+forget I am an artist. It is like taking a man with a dying thirst to a
+fountain of water and telling him he mustn't drink. I can't leave my
+work."
+
+"When I tell you that it is either a case of your leaving your work or
+your work leaving you, my remark may not be very original, but it is
+undeniably true. Do you sleep well?"
+
+"I can't say," was his reply. "When I fall asleep at night I never wake
+until my hour for rising. But I am more tired in the morning than when I
+turned in over-night."
+
+"Quite so. Do you dream at all?"
+
+"Yes, I dream."
+
+"Feel sleepy now--eh?"
+
+"Doctor, I could go to bed for a week," he replied.
+
+"Again, I tell you--overwork," I said, with strong deliberation. "Now
+I'll make you a proposal, which I can couple most heartily with the name
+of Mrs. Gratton. Come away with us. We are going to Herne Bay for a few
+weeks. I have taken a house there. Most invigorating place. You want no
+medicine, you won't leave your work alone, I won't be hard in my
+treatment of your case. Bring your tools with you. I will prescribe so
+much colour for you during the day--your paints and brushes may become
+converted into agreeable physic, but--they must be taken at periodical
+times. What do you say?"
+
+Colensoe consented--gratefully accepted my offer, stayed to lunch, and
+my wife took care to let him feel that the invitation was one of
+combined cordiality from both of us. I was a great admirer of Colensoe's
+work, and therefore took a deep interest in the worker. In a week's time
+we were at Herne Bay. A room--with a good light--was apportioned off as
+a small studio for Colensoe. A week passed by. Colensoe obeyed my
+instructions to the letter. I limited his working hours, and he began
+himself to be thankful when the periodical times for laying aside his
+brush came round. I noticed this, and lessened the hours of painting
+more, thinking that by degrees he would soon put his palette away
+completely and take the undisturbed rest he needed for a time to restore
+him thoroughly.
+
+About a fortnight after our arrival I was sitting alone in the
+dining-room. My wife and visitor had retired an hour ago. It was a
+glorious night. I turned out the gas, walked to the window, and drew up
+the blinds. The sea was sparkling with gems thrown out by the
+moon-beams. The beauty of the night seemed to heighten the stillness of
+the surroundings. Although it wanted but a few minutes to midnight I
+determined to walk out to the cliffs--a couple of hundred yards from the
+house--and view the moonlit scenery to greater advantage. I turned from
+the window, opened the door, and, just as I was turning into the
+passage, I heard a footstep. It was a steady, deliberate step; there was
+nothing uncertain or hesitating about it. I waited a moment; it came
+nearer. I drew back into the shadow. Now it was on the top stair. A form
+appeared in sight. It was Wilfred Colensoe.
+
+"Colensoe," I cried, softly; "why, what's the matter?"
+
+[Illustration: "HE STOOD BEFORE HIS EASEL."]
+
+He made no answer. With monotonous step he descended the stairs and was
+now at the bottom. His blank, staring eyes at once told me that he was
+in a state of somnambulism. He was fully dressed. His face was deadly
+pale, his features stolidly set, and his lips were gently moving as
+though impressively muttering. When he reached the bottom stair, he
+turned and walked in the direction of the room we had converted into a
+studio for him. I followed on quietly. With all the method and
+mysterious discretionary power of the sleep-walker he turned the handle
+of the door and entered. The room was flooded with light, for the roof
+was a glass one. I watched him take his palette in hand and play with
+the brushes on the colours. He stood before his easel, on which rested a
+half-finished canvas. And he painted--painted as true and as sure as if
+awake, blending the colours, picking out his work, working with all his
+old artistic touch and finish. All this time his lips were moving,
+muttering incoherent words I could not hear. At last he laid aside his
+tools with a sigh that almost raised compassion in my heart. Then
+walking towards the window at the far end of the room, he appeared to
+look out upon the sea. He was now talking louder. I crept up to him and
+tried to catch a word. It was a terrible brain-ringing word I heard--and
+uttered in a way I shall never forget.
+
+"Murder!"
+
+That was the word. "Murder, murder, murder!" he muttered, with agonized
+face. Yet another word came to his lips.
+
+"Huntingdon!"
+
+"Murder--Huntingdon!" I said within myself as I linked the two words
+together.
+
+The sleeping man passed his hand across his forehead. It was evident
+that he was in the midst of an agonizing dream--a vision of conviction.
+Here stood the guilty man before me now, pale and motionless, the rays
+from the moon lighting up his face and revealing the word "guilt"
+written on every feature. I watched him and waited for something else to
+come from his lips. I stood by his side for nearly an hour, but he did
+nothing more than repeat these same two words. With measured tread he
+turned to go. I followed him to his bedroom and heard him turn the key.
+I sat up the whole night--thinking. None knew of the remarkable
+discovery which I had made amongst poor Huntingdon's sketches; none
+should know of what I had learnt to-night. By the morning I had fully
+determined upon my course of action. The ramblings of a sleep-walking
+man would not prove a conviction to those who would judge his deed. He
+should convict himself. He should witness against himself. He was a
+sleep-worker. I had met with many similar cases before, all of which
+tended to prove that sleep by no means deadens the faculties of labour.
+It is indisputable that the hands will follow the inclinations of the
+brains of somnambulists. They will act as they think--perform what they
+dream. If Colensoe would only work out his terrible night dreams!
+
+My conduct towards him at the breakfast table and throughout the day was
+just the same as ever. It was far from a comfortable feeling, however,
+to pass the wine to one who had taken another's life, and to offer an
+after-dinner cigar to a murderer. The day passed. I slept during the
+afternoon, for I was tired with my over-night watching, and could I but
+put my inward plans into execution, it was more than probable that I
+should be awake for many nights to come. I told my wife that Colensoe
+was a somnambulist, and that he worked at the canvas equally as well
+whilst sleeping as waking. I impressed upon her the absolute necessity
+of silence on the subject, as I firmly believed that I was on the brink
+of a great discovery. Seeing that I was a medical man, her curiosity was
+in no way aroused. Indeed, she thought me foolish to give up my night's
+rest.
+
+That night, after Colensoe had gone to bed, I went into his studio. My
+hand trembled somewhat as I placed on his easel a square piece of new
+canvas. This done, I waited patiently. A step on the stairs rewarded me.
+It was Colensoe walking again. His speech was louder this time, and more
+impressively distinct; his dream was evidently more agonizing than the
+night before. If he would only follow out the promptings of that
+dream--if he would but work to-night--to-night! I watched him
+breathlessly. He wandered about the room for some time, then suddenly,
+as though impelled by some mysterious force within, crossed to the
+cupboard where he kept his tools, took out his materials and walked to
+the canvas.
+
+"Huntingdon--Huntingdon!" he cried, and the first lines of his
+everlasting vision were written on the hitherto untouched canvas. It was
+the outline of a man's face! For two hours he worked, and then,
+replacing his brushes and palette, went to bed. I took the canvas away.
+Night after night for ten days I placed the canvas in position. Night
+after night the artist got nearer to accomplishing his own condemnation.
+And as the picture grew more like the man he had murdered, so his dream
+became more intense. His features showed that. The rapidity of his brush
+revealed the rush of thoughts within, of an anxiety to complete his
+task. Never was such a true portrait painted, and when on the last night
+he put the finishing touches to it, the face of Huntingdon seemed to
+live on the canvas. It was the face which existed in the brain of the
+painter. The last night's work was done. The sleeping man turned from
+his easel and went to his bedroom once more.
+
+The morrow would tell me if Colensoe was guilty. I had little doubt of
+it in my own mind--but he should say so himself when waking as he had
+condemned himself whilst sleeping. I would take him to the studio and
+confront him with his own testimony. He should see the face of the man
+whose life he had taken, painted with his own hands. He was later than
+usual in coming down that morning. I left the breakfast-room with the
+intention of calling him, when, just as I got into the passage, I saw
+him at the top of the stairs. His hat was on. His face was ghastly pale,
+every feature was working. His eyes betokened some mad intention--their
+gaze appeared to kill. He almost flew down the stairs.
+
+"Don't stop me," he cried. "I must go into the open. I want God's air.
+Let me go now--let me go, only for a little while!"
+
+"Colensoe," I said, catching him by the arm, "what mad act do you
+contemplate?"
+
+"Nothing--nothing. Believe me, nothing. I only want the refreshing
+breeze, that's all. I'm tired--worn out."
+
+"Yes, you are truly tired," I said.
+
+"What do you mean?" he cried.
+
+"Your work."
+
+"Work--what work?--who works?"
+
+"Come with me," I said.
+
+[Illustration: "HE SHRIEKED THE MURDERED MAN'S NAME."]
+
+Like a child he followed me to his studio. I opened the door. The
+portrait of Huntingdon rested on the easel. He saw it. The eyes he had
+painted pierced him to the heart, and the lips almost moved in
+accusation. He shrieked the murdered man's name and fell to the ground.
+He was dead!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The following letter was found on Wilfred Colensoe's dressing-table:--
+
+"What good is life to me?--what good am I for life? Then why live? A
+guilty conscience only means a living death. You have been very good to
+me--both you and your wife. But I am going to end it all. Let me
+confess. It will bring me some small comfort even now in the dying hour
+I have given to myself. You remember poor Huntingdon? I shot that
+man--murdered him. Listen and then 'Good-bye.' Huntingdon and I were
+friendly rivals. You remember my picture of 'The Duel'? Yes. One day I
+visited Huntingdon. That same morning I had been making some studies of
+a revolver in the act of being discharged. I had it in my pocket when I
+went to see Huntingdon, and one chamber remained loaded. I walked
+straight into his studio. As I entered Huntingdon had a pistol in his
+hand pointed immediately towards me and--fired. In an instant my
+revolver was in my grasp and a bullet had entered his heart. That is the
+simple history of the crime. I fled from the place and none knew. Thank
+God this is written. A life for a life. I am passing through death all
+the day, and at night I do not cease to die. You do not know what that
+means. The guilty do. Angels of darkness play with you all day long and
+at night watch over you--watch over you that you do not escape, that
+they may gambol with you on the morrow. They are making merry now. They
+have got what they want--_Me_. Yes, a life for a life. I will deliver my
+own up. Good-bye."
+
+
+
+
+_The Queer Side of Things._
+
+[Illustration: A USE FOR GENIUS]
+
+
+Young Bansted Downs had finally arrived home from school; the cabman had
+placed his box in the front hall, and young D. was in the act of hanging
+up his hat on the stand, when the elder Bansted Downs, his father, put
+his head out of the library, and said:--
+
+"And now, young Bansted Downs, what sphere in life do you propose to
+fill?"
+
+"I have been thinking, old Bansted Downs," replied the youth,
+respectfully, "since I left school seventy-five minutes ago, that I
+should prefer to be something prosperous."
+
+The father nodded his head approvingly at this evidence of foresight in
+his child, and said:--
+
+"I think you have come to a very wise decision, young Bansted Downs. No
+doubt you have, while at school, selected such studies as were best
+fitted to prepare you for the struggle of life?"
+
+"I think so, old Bansted Downs," replied the son. "The head-master took
+in regularly for our use all the best prize-competition periodicals; in
+fact, he was of opinion that a complete selection of these rendered all
+other educational books superfluous. I myself have attained to such
+dexterity in guessing the right word, deciding on the best eight
+pictures and the two best stories, divining the correct number of pairs
+of boots made in London on a given day, and so forth, that Dr.
+Practiccle pronounced my education singularly complete."
+
+"Good--very good! young Bansted Downs," said the father, thoughtfully;
+"and now as to a more specific choice of profession?"
+
+"Well, old Bansted Downs," said the son, "I have been thinking that I
+should like to be apprenticed to a Genius, with a view to adopting his
+calling."
+
+"Very well thought out," said the parent. "I must consider whether the
+necessary premium----"
+
+"Pray do not trouble about that," said the son, "as my success at the
+word competitions has more than provided for the contingency." And young
+Bansted Downs drew from his pocket a large bag filled with a mixture of
+sovereigns, marbles, and peppermint-drops.
+
+"Very good! Then the matter's settled; and perhaps you would like
+something to eat."
+
+All the friends by whose opinion old Bansted Downs set any store
+heartily approved of young Bansted Downs's choice of a calling; and the
+matter was fully discussed that evening. The advertisement columns of
+the newspapers were consulted as to the most suitable genius to
+undertake the charge of the youth; and the following seemed promising:--
+
+"_To Parents and Guardians._--_Young men of promise wishing to adopt the
+profession of genius will do well to apply to Brayne Power and Sons, of
+3019A, George Street, Hanover Square, who have a vacancy for one
+apprentice. Telephone No. 7142863._"
+
+The very next day young Bansted Downs called at the address given, and
+was shown into the presence of Power senior, a man of venerable
+appearance, whose high broad forehead, far-away gaze, long hair, and
+abstraction sufficiently revealed his calling.
+
+"It will be fifty pounds--twenty-five down, and the rest in monthly
+instalments of one pound after you have got your H.A.W.," said the
+Master Genius.
+
+"If you please, what is my H.A.W.?" asked young Bansted Downs.
+
+"Your final degree--your Head Above Water."
+
+"That will not be just yet?" asked the youth.
+
+"Oh, dear, no! Not for a very long while, if ever. There are two
+preliminary degrees to get before that. There are the F.I. and the
+E.P.--your Foot In and your Ear of the Public; and before you can obtain
+either of these you will have to Make your Mark."
+
+"I can sign my name--will not that do as well?" asked the youth.
+
+[Illustration: "THE MASTER GENIUS."]
+
+"That entirely depends upon the sort of name. If it's just a surname
+with a coronet over it, it entitles you to your F.I. and your E.P.
+without any examination. You have the same advantage if you can append
+to your signature either of the following affixes: P.P. (Pertinacious
+Pusher) or C.I. (Chum of the Influential).
+
+"But if you can't sign these kinds of names, you will have to Make your
+Mark. It's a difficult mark, and requires a lot of learning.
+
+"As the first instalment of twenty-five pounds down is all I am ever
+likely to get, I will take it now--no, that one won't do; it's a
+peppermint-drop, not a sovereign. _That's_ not the way to get on, young
+man!"
+
+"Isn't it?" asked young Bansted Downs thoughtfully. "I'm glad you told
+me. I thought perhaps it might be; but, of course, I've got to learn."
+
+That very week young Bansted Downs commenced his studies under the
+Master Genius. He found he had a very great deal to learn.
+
+"The difference between talent and genius is that talent does what it
+can and genius does what it must--you will find that in the poets," said
+the Master Genius. "Consequently, to be a genius, you need not feel that
+you have the _ability_ to do a thing, but only that it is _necessary_ to
+do it. A house-painter is a specimen of genius: he has not the ability
+to do his work; but he is compelled to do it in order to obtain the
+means for his Saturday drinks. But, of course, that's only one kind of
+genius. What we have to teach you first is to feel that you _must_ do
+something transcendent--and then all you've got to do is to do it--see?"
+
+So, acting on his instructions, young Bansted Downs went to the office
+and sat quite still day after day for a month or two, with his eyes
+fixed on space; and one afternoon at the end of that time he got up and
+rushed at Power junior (who took charge of him in these preliminary
+studies), and announced that he felt the irresistible impulse to do
+something great and wonderful.
+
+"What sort of thing?" asked the Junior Genius.
+
+"I don't know--anything--something stupendous and transcendent--a
+master-piece!" said young Bansted Downs.
+
+"Knock it off, then. Don't make a labour of it, mind; that would spoil
+all the genius of it. Just knock it off--shed it--see?"
+
+The apprentice went back to his stool in the corner and knocked off that
+scintillation of genius.
+
+"Very good for a beginner," said the Junior Genius; "you show much
+promise. I shall soon be able to hand you over to my father for the
+Higher Grades."
+
+And some time after that young Bansted Downs moved into the room of the
+Master Genius to learn the higher attributes of genius--eccentricity and
+obscureness. These were the most important parts of the qualifications,
+and he worked hard at acquiring them. The eccentricity had infinite
+ramifications extending into language, manner, dress, habits,
+appearance, and opinions. The teacher communicated a thousand little
+touches of eccentricity invaluable to a genius--such as the bringing out
+of a book of poems with the title printed upside down and the capitals
+at the end of the lines instead of the beginning; the wearing of the
+back hair tied in a bow under the tip of the nose, and so forth. The
+pupil learned to hop backwards on to a public platform, wearing his
+dress-coat upside down, to paint his figures with their bones outside
+their skin, to sob audibly when performing on the piano; and many other
+things necessary to the obtaining of his degrees.
+
+[Illustration: "A HOUSE-PAINTER IS A SPECIMEN OF GENIUS."]
+
+Having completed these studies, he was ready for the uphill work of
+trying to Make his Mark; and he found it a complicated bit of drawing
+too, far worse than the signature of a Chinese emperor--everything lay
+in the flourish.
+
+The Master Genius said that no one could Make his Mark without a great
+flourish; and the best way to make the flourish was to blow it on his
+own trumpet; so there was the expense of a trumpet.
+
+But he didn't seem able to get on; and after he had worn out a gross of
+pens in the attempt to Make his Mark he felt that he would never obtain
+his degrees, and took a back cistern-cupboard under the roof in a poor
+street, and fell into a low state.
+
+One day, as he was eating his weekly sausage at the Three Melancholy
+Geniuses, off Fleet Street, there entered a party whom he knew slightly
+and who had Made his Mark and passed all his degrees some time before.
+
+[Illustration: "TO SOB AUDIBLY WHEN PERFORMING ON THE PIANO."]
+
+"Haven't Made your Mark yet?" said this party. "Tell you what--why don't
+you get Boomed?"
+
+"Does it hurt?" asked young Bansted Downs.
+
+"Hurts your self-respect just a little and your respect for your
+fellow-creatures a little more--but it's nothing," replied the party.
+
+"Where do you go?"
+
+"To the Press Booming Department, of course. Just put your name down for
+Booming, and fill up a form, stating what you require said about you.
+You began all wrong: I never studied--I only went and put my name down
+the moment it occurred to me that I would be a genius. I called at the
+office every day, and shouted my name, and created disturbances, and got
+turned out; until at last they couldn't stand it any longer, and my turn
+came.
+
+[Illustration: "I CALLED AT THE OFFICE EVERY DAY AND SHOUTED MY NAME."]
+
+"They put a long article about me in every newspaper, all the same
+day--mostly interviews--and quoted me as a classic. Some of 'em
+described me as a painter, and others as a novelist: I never was either;
+but it answered all right."
+
+So young Bansted Downs went to the Booming office, and put his name
+down, and shouted; and the end of it was he got his Boom, and several
+editors wrote to him; and he began to be a little successful.
+
+He hired halls, and went before the public in person; and painted on the
+platform; and sang and played his own compositions to them; and recited
+his own poems, and acted his own plays; and told them about his own
+scientific researches, and his military, exploratory, judicial,
+political, and athletic achievements.
+
+But the thing dulled off, for one day a deputation of the public called
+at the Booming office to ask something about him; and the office had
+forgotten his name, and said that he wasn't being Boomed now, as Smith
+was up; and so the public got on an omnibus and went to Smith's hall,
+and Bansted Downs faded out.
+
+After that he was to be found all day at the Three Melancholy Geniuses,
+drooping over fours of Irish; and one day his late instructor happened
+to come in and find him thus, with his melancholy nose over the edge of
+his glass.
+
+"Haven't got your Head Above Water, I see?" said the Master Genius.
+"Sorry you haven't Made your Mark."
+
+"I've made a good many," said Downs, pointing to the wet rings on the
+counter.
+
+"Ah, that sort of mark's no use--unless you make it in Company," said
+the Genius.
+
+[Illustration: "HAVEN'T GOT YOUR HEAD ABOVE WATER, I SEE?"]
+
+One day, as young Bansted Downs sat in his cistern-cupboard biting his
+nails, a step was heard on the stair, and his late instructor entered.
+
+"I've been all wrong," he said, sitting down on the cistern. "I put you
+all wrong--I've put all my pupils all wrong. I fell down stairs lately
+and knocked my head, and when I got up I saw everything--the light broke
+in upon me!"
+
+"Why, you've cut your hair, and you're dressed quite neatly--I should
+hardly have known you for a Master Genius at all!" exclaimed young
+Bansted Downs.
+
+"I am no longer a Genius--I am now the M.W.K.A.A.I.--the Man Who Knows
+All About It. I now know why genius fails to get the Ear of the Public,
+and is not appreciated----"
+
+"Fault of the public--everybody knew that before," growled young Bansted
+Downs.
+
+"Pardon me, it is not the fault of the poor public, but the fault of the
+system. We--the entertainers--have made the mistake of being geniuses;
+whereas we had no business to meddle with genius at all.
+
+"It is the public who ought to have the genius; _they_ should have the
+lively appreciation, the keen sense of humour, the afflatus, and all
+that; and then those who cater for them would not need to trouble about
+those things--they would only have to cater, and leave the public to
+perceive, by means of their genius, the excellences of the fare
+provided. If a plain person does something, and geniuses perceive
+greatness in it, that's a right state of affairs; but if a genius does
+something great, and plain persons fail to appreciate it, that's a wrong
+state of things, and a waste of material---see?"
+
+"And what do you propose to do?" asked young Bansted Downs.
+
+"That's very simple--just make geniuses of the public. Of course the
+public, having their own affairs to attend to, will not wish to turn
+caterers and originate--their province is to appreciate, perceive,
+applaud, and pay at the doors--see? By this system any dullard is
+enabled, without effort, fatigue, or preliminary study, to Make his Mark
+and get his F.I., his E.P., and his H.A.W. A child could use it."
+
+"But," objected young Bansted Downs, "under your system, dullardism
+paying so well, everybody would want to cater for the public, and there
+wouldn't be any audience--any public."
+
+"Pooh! The system at present in vogue is all I require--compulsory
+education. Everybody will have to be educated as a genius, except a few
+who will be specially exempted from attendance at the Board schools to
+enable them to lie fallow and fit themselves for originators.
+
+"Of course, you may say that it would not be _necessary_ for the
+entertainer to be dull. Of course it would not; but, as it is not
+necessary for him to be a genius either, there would be a waste of
+public money in educating him as one. In fact, it might be a
+disadvantage for both originator and appreciator to be geniuses, and
+their conceptions might clash and create confusion. It's better for a
+conception to be lighted from one side only, as you get more contrast."
+
+"But would not the genius of the spectator simply perceive the dulness
+of the originator?"
+
+"Not in the least. It's just the sphere of genius to perceive, in a
+given production, excellences which the ordinary observer fails to
+detect; and it's only a question of degree of genius. I take it that
+perfect genius can detect perfect excellence in everything submitted to
+its discrimination. And now, will you be kind enough to come and vote
+for me, as for the furtherance of my scheme I am offering myself as
+Chairman of the School Board?"
+
+In due course, the Man Who Knew All About It was elected to the School
+Board. He secured this by publishing handbills declaring his intention
+to squander the rate-payers' money like water, and provide free food,
+clothing, lodging, sweets, tobacco, drinks, theatres, and pianos to all
+the Board school children and their parents, relatives, and friends. The
+public judged by the proceedings of past candidates, all of whom had
+deliberately broken their promises on coming into office; and they
+concluded that this one would do so as well, and refuse to spend a
+penny. The Board were compelled to choose him as Chairman; and he at
+once commenced his work of reform.
+
+Genius took the place of all the former studies at the Board schools: no
+pupil was permitted to leave until he had passed the fifth standard,
+which turned him out a full-fledged genius; and he had to attend until
+he _could_ pass it, even if he became old and decrepit. This was a wise
+step; for, had this rule been relaxed, those unable to pass the standard
+would have joined the ranks of the originators, and thus flooded the
+market.
+
+[Illustration: "THE GENIUS CLASS AT THE BOARD SCHOOL."]
+
+Young Bansted Downs now set himself to steadily forgetting all the
+genius he had learned, feeling that it would be nothing but an
+incumbrance in his new career; and he succeeded so well that in the
+course of a few years he had become as dull as ditch-water.
+
+Meanwhile a new public were growing up, a public of such brilliant
+perceptions--so great a faculty of appreciation--that they were quite
+bewildered with the excellences they perceived in everything around
+them.
+
+To take the sense of humour alone: they possessed it to so marvellous an
+extent that they could perceive a joke in the passing cloud,
+facetiousness in the growth of flowers, a choice witticism in the rates
+and taxes, an incentive to mirth in strikes. Not that they were
+incessantly giggling--that would have argued a something wanting; no,
+they drank in and appreciated and enjoyed the universal humour, and
+their eyes were bright.
+
+So, when young Bansted Downs was middle-aged Bansted Downs he started
+all over again in quite a different way: he just wrote twaddle, and
+painted twaddle, and composed twaddle; and went on to a platform and
+twaddled about twaddle: and the public genius detected the brilliancy
+lurking in it all, and they were in ecstacies.
+
+A terrible thing happened to the Boom Department of the Press. One day
+the public arose as one man and remarked that they were capable of
+finding out merit for themselves and no longer required the Department;
+and they took large stones, and bad eggs, and dead cats, and fagots of
+wood, and proceeded to the Boom Department; and it was in vain that the
+head of the Department came out on the balcony and pleaded that the
+Booming System, as practised by the Press, had nothing to do with the
+finding-out of merit; for the public smashed the windows and burned the
+offices, and abolished the Boom Department.
+
+[Illustration: "A CHOICE WITTICISM IN THE RATES AND TAXES."]
+
+However, nobody required Booming now, as absence of ability was no
+longer a bar to fame; and things worked far more happily than they ever
+had under the old system. Authors and others no longer pined under want
+of appreciation; on the contrary, they were always wildly surprised at
+the wonderful things the public discovered in their work; and as for the
+public, they were vastly contented.
+
+It's the true system--there's not a question about that.
+
+J. F. SULLIVAN.
+
+[Illustration: TABLES OF ALL AGES]
+
+[Illustration: COMPLIMENTARY (A FACT).
+
+     GLADYS: "GRANDPA, WHAT ARE THOSE STRINGS MADE OF?"
+
+     GRANDPA: "CAT-GUT, MY DEAR."
+
+     GLADYS: "WHAT'S THAT?"
+
+     GRANDPA (JOKINGLY): "OH, THE INSIDES OF PUSSIES DEAR."
+
+     GLADYS (AFTER A PAUSE): "I SUPPOSE THEY FOUND OUT THEY WERE
+     GOOD FOR THAT ON ACCOUNT OF THE NOISE CATS MAKE!"]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustration: TURN THESE UPSIDE DOWN.]
+
+
+
+
+INDEX.
+
+
+                                                                       PAGE
+ADJUTANT'S LOVE STORY, THE. From the French of LE COMTE ALFRED
+DE VIGNY
+    (_Illustrations_ by H. R. MILLAR.)                                  528
+
+ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES. By A. CONAN DOYLE.
+    (_Illustrations_ by SIDNEY PAGET.)
+
+  XIV.--THE ADVENTURE OF THE CARDBOARD BOX                               61
+
+  XV.--THE ADVENTURE OF THE YELLOW FACE                                 162
+
+  XVI.--THE ADVENTURE OF THE STOCKBROKER'S CLERK                        281
+
+  XVII.--THE ADVENTURE OF THE "GLORIA SCOTT"                            395
+
+  XVIII.--THE ADVENTURE OF THE MUSGRAVE RITUAL                          479
+
+  XIX.--THE ADVENTURE OF THE REIGATE SQUIRE                             601
+
+"AUTHOR! AUTHOR!" By E. W. HORNUNG                                      241
+    (_Illustrations_ by W. S. STACEY.)
+
+
+BARNARDO, DR. (_See_ "ILLUSTRATED INTERVIEWS.")                         173
+
+BEAUTIES:--
+
+  I.--LADIES: THE COUNTESS OF ANNESLEY, THE MISSES HATHAWAY
+      (TWINS), MISS HAYTER, MISS LEE, MISS MENCE                         74
+
+  II.--CHILDREN: MISS BEAUMONT, MISS CROSS, MISS DUNLOP, MISS
+       MARGUERITE FOSTER, MISS SERJEANT, MISS WATERLOW, MISS WHITE,
+       MISSES WHITE, MISS WINSTEAD                                      186
+
+  III.--LADIES: PRINCESS AHMADEE, MADAME ARNOLDSON, MISS DOROTHY
+        DORR, MISS FLO HENDERSON, MISS KINGSLEY, MISS ALICE
+        LETHBRIDGE, MADAME SCHIRMER-MAPLESON, MLLE. DEL TORRE,
+        MISS WEBSTER                                                    292
+
+  IV.--LADIES: MISS ARCHER, LADY CHARLES BERESFORD, MISS FLO
+       BERESFORD, MISS BRANSON, MRS. BRATE, MISS LLOYD, MISS
+       DECIMA MOORE, MISS RIPLEY, MISS NELLIE SIMMONS                   415
+
+  V.--CHILDREN: MISS KATE BIRCH, MISS DORIS COLLINS, MISS ERNA
+      COLLINS, MISS GASCOYNE DALZIEL, MISS ELSIE DIEDRICHS, MISS
+      GLADYS HERBERT, MISS DOROTHY NORCUTT, MISS MAUDE WALLIS,
+      MISS KATHLEEN WHITE                                               525
+
+  VI.--LADIES: LADY ABERDEEN, MISS ELLA BANISTER, MISS C. L. FOOTE,
+       MISS FRIEND, MISS L. HAROLD, MISS A. HUGHES, MRS. MARSH, MISS
+       ALICE RAVENSCROFT, MISS NORAH WILLIAMS                           613
+
+
+CARDS, PECULIAR PLAYING                                             77, 148
+
+CHILD'S TEAR, A. From the French of EDOUARD LEMOINE                      95
+(_Illustrations_ by PAUL HARDY.)
+
+COURTSHIP OF HALIL, THE. By A. F. BURN                                   84
+(_Illustrations_ by H. R. MILLAR.)
+
+
+DARK TRANSACTION, A.    By MARIANNE KENT                                362
+(_Illustrations_ by PAUL HARDY.)
+
+DEAD OF NIGHT, AT. By MRS. NEWMAN                                       498
+(_Illustrations_ by W. B. WOLLEN.)
+
+DICTATES OF FASHION, FUTURE                                             551
+(_Written_ and _Illustrated_ by W. CADE GALL.)
+
+FASHION, FUTURE DICTATES OF                                             551
+
+FURNISS, MR. HARRY. (_See_ "ILLUSTRATED INTERVIEWS.")                   571
+
+
+GAME OF CHESS, A. Translated from the French                            219
+    (_Illustrations_ by PAUL HARDY.)
+
+
+HANDS. By BECKLES WILLSON                                          119, 295
+    (_Illustrations_ from Photographs of Casts.)
+
+HUMANE SOCIETY, ROYAL. With Portraits of Winners of the Medals     370, 446
+    (_Illustrations_ from Photographs.)
+
+
+ILLUSTRATED INTERVIEWS. By HARRY HOW.
+
+  XIX.--THE LORD BISHOP OF RIPON                                         12
+    (_Illustrations_ from Photographs by Messrs. ELLIOTT & FRY.)
+
+  XX.--DR. BARNARDO                                                     173
+    (_Illustrations_ from Photographs by Messrs. ELLIOTT & FRY.)
+
+  XXI.--MR. AND MRS. KENDAL                                             228
+    (_Illustrations_ by MR. KENDAL; and from Photographs by Messrs.
+      ELLIOTT & FRY.)
+
+  XXII.--SIR ROBERT RAWLINSON                                           513
+    (_Illustrations_ from Drawings and Paintings; and from Photographs
+      by Messrs. ELLIOTT & FRY.)
+
+  XXIII.--MR. HARRY FURNISS                                             571
+    (_Illustrations_ by HARRY FURNISS; and from Photographs by
+      Messrs. ELLIOTT & FRY.)
+
+
+KENDAL, MR. AND MRS. (_See_ "ILLUSTRATED INTERVIEWS.")                  228
+
+
+LIEUTENANT GAUTHIER.   From the French of JOSE DE CAMPOS                616
+    (_Illustrations_ by H. R. MILLAR.)
+
+LITTLE SURPRISE, A. Adapted from the French of A. DREYFUS by
+CONSTANCE BEERBOHM                                                       25
+    (_Illustrations_ by W. S. STACEY.)
+
+
+MAJOR'S COMMISSION, THE. By W. CLARK RUSSELL                            138
+    (_Illustrations_by W. CHRISTIAN SYMONS.)
+
+
+NANKEEN JACKET, THE. From the French of GUSTAVE GUESVILLER              418
+    (_Illustrations_ by H. R. MILLAR.)
+
+
+ONE AND TWO. By WALTER BESANT                                            44
+    (_Illustrations_ by JOHN GUeLICH.)
+
+
+PIERRE AND BAPTISTE. By BECKLES WILLSON                                 547
+    (_Illustrations_ by PAUL HARDY.)
+
+PLAYING CARDS, PECULIAR.   By GEORGE CLULOW                         77, 148
+    (_Illustrations_ from facsimiles of Curious Playing Cards.)
+
+PORTRAITS OF CELEBRITIES AT DIFFERENT TIMES OF THEIR LIVES:--
+
+  ABEL, SIR FREDERICK, BART.                                            589
+
+  ADLER, DR. HERMANN                                                    278
+
+  ALISON, SIR ARCHIBALD                                                 279
+
+  BATTERSEA, LORD                                                       274
+
+  BERESFORD, LORD CHARLES                                               393
+
+  COWEN, FREDERIC H.                                                    161
+
+  FURNISS, HARRY                                                        586
+
+  GIRARD, MISS DOROTHEA                                                  59
+
+  GOULD, REV. S. BARING                                                 392
+
+  HADING, MADAME JANE                                                   280
+
+  HALLE, SIR CHARLES                                                    277
+
+  HALLE, LADY                                                           276
+
+  HARDY, MISS IZA DUFFUS                                                473
+
+  HAWEIS, REV. H. R.                                                    160
+
+  HERKOMER, MR. HUBERT, R.A.                                            474
+
+  HOUGHTON, LORD                                                        156
+
+  HUNTER, COLIN, A.R.A.                                                 588
+
+  KELVIN, LORD                                                          590
+
+  KNILL, MR. STUART (LORD MAYOR)                                         60
+
+  LESLIE, THE LATE FRED                                                  58
+
+  LLOYD, EDWARD                                                         478
+
+  MACWHIRTER, JOHN, R.A.                                                476
+
+  NICOL, ERSKINE, A.R.A.                                                475
+
+  ORCHARDSON, W. Q., R.A.                                               275
+
+  PETTIE, JOHN, R.A.                                                    157
+
+  POTTER, MRS. BROWN                                                    389
+
+  PRINCESS MARIE OF EDINBURGH                                            56
+
+  PRINCE FERDINAND OF ROUMANIA                                           57
+
+  PRINCE OF WALES                                                       390
+
+  PRINCESS OF WALES                                                     391
+
+  REID, SIR GEORGE, P.R.S.A.                                            587
+
+  ROBERTS, JOHN                                                         394
+
+  ROBERTSON, J. FORBES                                                  477
+
+  RUSSELL, W. CLARK                                                      55
+
+  TECK, DUCHESS OF                                                      158
+
+  TECK, DUKE OF                                                         159
+
+  VAUGHAN, CARDINAL                                                     591
+
+  VAUGHAN, CARDINAL, FATHER AND BROTHERS OF                             592
+
+PRINCE OF WALES AT SANDRINGHAM, THE                                     327
+    (_Illustrations_ from Photographs by BEDFORD LEMERE and W. & D.
+      DOWNEY.)
+
+
+QUASTANA THE BRIGAND. From the French of ALPHONSE DAUDET                124
+    (_Illustrations_ by JEAN DE PALEOLOGUE.)
+
+QUEER SIDE OF THINGS, THE:--
+
+  BOTTLE FROM THE DEEP SEA, A                                           214
+
+  CHILDREN OF A THOUSAND YEARS                                          542
+
+  CLOAKS AND MANTLES                                                    106
+
+  CROCODILE STORY, A                                                    324
+
+  DRINKING VESSELS OF ALL AGES                                          322
+
+  DWINDLING HOUR, THE                                                    98
+
+  EXPLOSION OF A LOCOMOTIVE                                             214
+
+  HORSE AND ITS OCCUPATIONS, THE                                        430
+
+  HUNTER AND THE BIRD, THE                                              108
+
+  JUDGE'S PENANCE, THE                                                  535
+
+  MANDRAKE ROOTS                                                        105
+
+  MISCELLANEOUS                                                         648
+
+  N.P.M.C., THE                                                         315
+
+  OLD JOE'S PICNIC                                                      423
+
+  PAL'S PUZZLES                                                    104, 215
+
+  ROOM PAPERED WITH STAMPS                                              321
+
+  SAGACITY OF A DOG                                                     216
+
+  STORY OF THE KING'S IDEA                                              209
+
+  TABLES OF A CENTURY                                                   646
+
+  TURNIP RESEMBLING A HUMAN HAND                                        321
+
+  USE FOR GENIUS                                                        639
+
+  VEGETABLE ODDITIES                                               214, 432
+
+  WHO ARE THESE?                                                        544
+
+
+RAWLINSON, SIR ROBERT. (_See_ "ILLUSTRATED INTERVIEWS.")                513
+
+RIPON, THE LORD BISHOP OF. (_See_ "ILLUSTRATED INTERVIEWS.")             12
+
+ROSITA. From the French of PITRE CHEVALIER                              302
+    (_Illustrations_ by H. R. MILLAR.)
+
+
+SANDRINGHAM, THE PRINCE OF WALES AT                                     327
+    (_Illustrations_ from Photographs.)
+
+SHADOW OF THE SIERRAS, IN THE. By IZA DUFFUS HARDY                      433
+    (_Illustrations_ by PAUL HARDY.)
+
+SHAFTS FROM AN EASTERN QUIVER. By CHARLES J. MANSFORD, B.A.
+
+  VII.--MARGARITA, THE BOND QUEEN OF THE WANDERING DHAHS                  3
+  VIII.--THE MASKED RULER OF THE BLACK WRECKERS                         189
+  IX.--MAW SAYAH, THE KEEPER OF THE GREAT BURMAN NAT                    258
+  X.--THE HUNTED TRIBE OF THREE HUNDRED PEAKS                           340
+  XI.--IN QUEST OF THE LOST GALLEON                                     453
+  XII.--THE DAUGHTER OF LOVETSKI THE LOST                               561
+    (_Illustrations_ by A. PEARSE.)
+
+SLAVE, A. By LEILA HANOUM. Translated from a Turkish Story              203
+  (_Illustrations_ by H. R. MILLAR.)
+
+SPEAKER'S CHAIR, FROM BEHIND THE.  Viewed by H. W. LUCY       89, 198, 267,
+                                                              381, 490, 624
+  (_Illustrations_ by F. C. GOULD.)
+
+STRANGE REUNION, A.    By T. G. ATKINSON                                376
+  (_Illustrations_ by A. J. JOHNSON.)
+
+
+TYPES OF ENGLISH BEAUTY.   (_See_ "BEAUTIES.")
+
+
+WEATHERCOCKS AND VANES                                                  351
+  (_Written_ and _Illustrated_ by WARRINGTON HOGG.)
+
+WEDDING GIFT, A.    By LEONARD OUTRAM                                   111
+  (_Illustrations_ by PAUL HARDY.)
+
+WORK OF ACCUSATION, A.    By HARRY HOW                                  633
+  (_Illustrations_ by JOHN GUeLICH.)
+
+
+ZIG-ZAGS AT THE ZOO.    By ARTHUR MORRISON.
+
+  VII.--ZIG-ZAG CURSOREAN                                                35
+  VIII.--ZIG-ZAG PHOCINE                                                129
+  IX.--ZIG-ZAG CONKAVIAN                                                248
+  X.--ZIG-ZAG OPHIDIAN                                                  407
+  XI.--ZIG-ZAG MARSUPIAL                                                464
+  XII.--ZIG-ZAG ACCIPITRAL                                              593
+
+    (_Illustrations_ by J. A. SHEPHERD.)
+
+GEORGE NEWNES, LIMITED. 8, 9, 10 AND 11, SOUTHAMPTON STREET, AND EXETER
+STREET, STRAND. W.C.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Strand Magazine, Volume V, Issue
+30, June 1893, by Various
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STRAND MAGAZINE ***
+
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