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diff --git a/37484-8.txt b/37484-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f03fc06 --- /dev/null +++ b/37484-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7550 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Strand Magazine, Volume XXVII, Issue +160, April, 1904, 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 XXVII, Issue 160, April, 1904 + +Author: Various + +Release Date: September 20, 2011 [EBook #37484] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STRAND MAGAZINE, APRIL, 1904 *** + + + + +Produced by Dianna Adair, Jonathan Ingram, Josephine +Paolucci and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net. + + + + + + + + +[Illustration: SARAH BERNHARDT, AT THE AGE OF TWELVE, AND HER MOTHER. + +_From an Unpublished Photograph by C. Robert, Paris._] + + + + +THE STRAND MAGAZINE. + +Vol. xxvii. APRIL, 1904. No. 160. + + + + +_The Memoirs of Sarah Bernhardt._ + +Copyright, 1904, by George Newnes, Limited. + + [These Memoirs, written by the greatest actress of our + time, will give not only the story of her career in the + theatrical world, but also in social life, in which she + has, of course, met nearly all the celebrated people of + the day, from Royalties downwards, and will be found + throughout of the most striking interest to all classes + of readers.] + + +CHAPTER I.--CHILDHOOD. + +My mother was fond of travelling: she would go from Spain to England, from +London to Paris, from Paris to Berlin, and from there to Christiania; then +she would come back, embrace me, and set out again for Holland, her native +country. She used to send my nurse clothing for herself and cakes for me. +To one of my aunts she would write: "Look after little Sarah; I shall +return in a month's time." A month later she would write to another of her +sisters: "Go and see the child at her nurse's; I shall be back in a couple +of weeks." + +[Illustration: MME. SARAH BERNHARDT'S DEDICATORY LETTER. + +SPECIALLY WRITTEN FOR THIS MAGAZINE. + +"Je suis heureux de dédier le premier chapitre de mes Mémoires au peuple +anglais, qui, le premier de tous les peuples étrangers, m'a accueillie avec +une si grande bienveillance qu'il m'a fait croire en moi.--SARAH BERNHARDT, +Paris, 1904." + +TRANSLATION.--"I am pleased to dedicate the first chapter of my Memoirs to +the English people, who, first among all foreign nations, welcomed me with +such great kindness that they made me believe in myself."] + +My mother's age was nineteen; I was three years old, and my two aunts were +seventeen and twenty years of age; another aunt was fifteen, and the eldest +was twenty-eight, but the last one lived at Martinique, and was the mother +of six children. My grandmother was blind, my grandfather dead, and my +father had been in China for the last two years. I have no idea why he had +gone there. + +My youthful aunts always promised to come to see me, but rarely kept their +word. My nurse hailed from Brittany and lived near Quimperlé, in a little +white house with a low thatched roof, on which wild gillyflowers grew. +That was the first flower which charmed my eyes as a child, and I have +loved it ever since. Its leaves are heavy and sad-looking, and its petals +are made of the setting sun. + +Brittany is a long way off, even in our present epoch of velocity. In those +days it was the end of the world. Fortunately my nurse was, it appears, a +good, kind woman, and, as her own child had died, she had only me to love. +But she loved after the manner of poor people, when she had time. + +One day, as her husband was ill, she went into the fields to help gather in +potatoes; the over-damp soil was rotting them, and there was no time to be +lost. She left me in charge of her husband, who was lying on his Breton +bedstead suffering from a bad attack of lumbago. The good woman had placed +me in my high chair, and had been careful to put in the wooden peg which +supported the narrow tablet for my toys. She threw a fagot in the grate, +and said to me in Breton language (until the age of four I only understood +Breton), "Be a good girl, Milk Blossom." That was my only name at the time. +When she had gone I tried to withdraw the wooden peg which she had taken so +much trouble to put in place. Finally I succeeded in pushing aside the +little rampart. I wanted to reach the ground, but--poor little me!--I fell +into the fire, which was burning joyfully. + +[Illustration: SARAH BERNHARDT'S HOME IN BRITTANY WHEN SHE WAS A CHILD. + +_From a Photo._] + +The screams of my foster-father, who could not move, brought in some +neighbours. I was thrown, all smoking, into a large pail of fresh milk. My +aunts were informed of what had happened; they communicated the news to my +mother, and for the next four days that quiet part of the country was +ploughed by stage-coaches, which arrived in rapid succession. My aunts came +from all parts of the world; and my mother, in the greatest alarm, hastened +from Brussels with Baron Larrey, one of her friends, who was a celebrated +doctor, and a surgeon whom Baron Larrey had brought with him. I have been +told since that nothing was more painful to witness, and yet so charming, +as my mother's despair. The doctor approved of the "mask of butter," which +was changed every two hours. + +Dear Baron Larrey! I often saw him afterwards, and now and again we shall +meet him in the pages of my Memoirs. He used to tell me in such charming +fashion how those kind folks loved Milk Blossom. And he could never refrain +from laughing at the thought of that butter. There was butter everywhere, +he used to say; on the bedsteads, on the cupboards, on the chairs, on the +tables, hanging up on nails in bladders. All the neighbours used to bring +butter to make masks for Milk Blossom. + +Mother, admirably beautiful, looking like a Madonna, with her golden hair +and her eyes fringed with such long lashes that they made a shadow on her +cheeks when she bent her eyes, distributed money on all sides. She would +have given her golden hair, her slender white fingers, her tiny feet, her +life itself, in order to save the child. And she was as sincere in her +despair and her love as in her unconscious forgetfulness. Baron Larrey left +for Paris, leaving my mother, Aunt Rosine, and the surgeon with me. +Forty-two days later mother took in triumph to Paris the nurse, the +foster-father, and me, and installed us in a little house at Neuilly, on +the banks of the Seine. I had not even a scar, it appears. My skin was +rather too bright a pink, but that was all. My mother, happy and trustful +once more, began to travel again, leaving me in care of my aunts. + +Two years were spent in the little garden at Neuilly, which was full of +horrible dahlias, growing close together and coloured like woollen balls. +My aunts never came there. My mother used to send money, bonbons, and toys. +The foster-father died, and my nurse married a concierge, who used to pull +open the door at 65, Rue de Provence. + +Not knowing where to find my mother, and not being able to write, my +nurse--without telling any of my friends took me with her to her new abode. + +The change delighted me. I was five years old at the time, and I remember +the day as if it were yesterday. My nurse's abode was just over the doorway +of the house, and the window was framed in the heavy and monumental door. +From outside I thought it was beautiful, and I began to clap my hands on +reaching the house. It was towards five o'clock in the evening in the month +of November, when everything looks grey. I was put to bed, and no doubt I +went to sleep at once, for there end my souvenirs of that day. + +The next morning there was terrible grief in store for me. There was no +window in the little room in which I slept, and I began to cry, and escaped +from the arms of my nurse, who was dressing me, so that I could go into the +adjoining room. I ran to the round window, which was an immense +"bull's-eye" above the doorway, I pressed my stubborn brow against the +glass and began to scream with rage on seeing no trees; no box-wood, no +leaves falling, nothing, nothing but stone--cold, grey, ugly stone, and +panes of glass opposite me. "I want to go away. I don't want to stay here. +It is all black, black! It is ugly! I want to see the ceiling of the +street!" and I burst into tears. My poor nurse took me up in her arms and, +folding me in a rug, took me down into the courtyard. "Lift up your head, +Milk Blossom, and look! See, there is the ceiling of the street!" + +It comforted me somewhat to see that there was some sky in this ugly place, +but my little soul was very sad. I could not eat, and I grew pale and +became anæmic, and I should certainly have died of consumption if it had +not been for a mere chance, a most unexpected incident. One day I was +playing in the courtyard with a little girl named Titine, who lived on the +second floor, and whose face or real name I cannot recall. I saw my nurse's +husband walking across the courtyard with two ladies, one of whom was most +fashionably attired. I could only see their backs, but the voice of the +fashionably-attired lady caused my heart to stop beating. My poor little +body trembled with nervous excitement. + +"Do any of the windows look on to the courtyard?" she asked. + +"Yes, madame, those four," he replied, pointing to four open ones on the +first floor. + +The lady turned to look at them, and I uttered a cry of joy. + +"Aunt Rosine! Aunt Rosine!" I exclaimed, clinging to the skirts of the +pretty visitor. I buried my face in her furs, stamping, sobbing, laughing, +and tearing her wide lace sleeves in my frenzy of delight. She took me in +her arms and tried to calm me, and, questioning the concierge, she +stammered out to her friend, "I can't understand what it all means! This is +little Sarah! My sister Youle's child!" + +The noise I made had attracted attention, and people opened their windows. +My aunt decided to take refuge in the concierge's lodge, in order to come +to an explanation. My poor nurse told her all that had taken place--her +husband's death and her second marriage. I do not remember what she said to +excuse herself. I clung to my aunt, who was deliciously perfumed, and I +would not let go of her. + +She promised to come the following day to fetch me, but I did not want to +stay any longer in that dark place. I asked to start at once with my nurse. +My aunt stroked my hair gently, and spoke to her friend in a language I did +not understand. She tried in vain to explain something to me--I do not know +what it was--but I insisted that I wanted to go away with her at once. In +a gentle, tender, caressing voice, but without any real affection, she said +all kinds of pretty things, stroked me with her gloved hands, patted my +frock, which was turned up, and made any amount of charming, frivolous +little gestures, but all without any real feeling. She then went away, at +her friend's entreaty, after emptying her purse in my nurse's hands. I +rushed towards the door, but the husband of my nurse, who had opened it for +her, now closed it again. My nurse was crying, and, taking me in her arms, +she opened the window, saying to me: "Don't cry, Milk Blossom; look at your +pretty aunt. She will come back again, and then you can go away with her." + +[Illustration: RUE DE PROVENCE, WHERE SARAH BERNHARDT, AT THE AGE OF FIVE, +WAS TAKEN TO LIVE WITH HER NURSE. + +_From a Photo. by C. Robert Paris._] + +Great tears rolled down her calm, round, handsome face. I could see nothing +but the dark, black hole which remained there immutable behind me, and in a +fit of despair I rushed out to my aunt, who was just getting into a +carriage. After that I knew nothing more; everything seemed dark; there was +a noise in the distance. I could hear voices far, far away. I had managed +to escape from my poor nurse and had fallen down on the pavement in front +of my aunt. I had broken my arm in two places and injured my left knee-cap. +I only came to myself again a few hours later, to find that I was in a +beautiful wide bed which smelt very nice. It stood in the middle of a large +room, with two lovely windows, which made me very joyful, for I could see +the ceiling of Heaven through them. + +My mother, who had been sent for immediately, came to take care of me, and +I saw the rest of my family, my aunts and my cousins. My poor little brain +could not understand why all these people should suddenly be so fond of me, +when I had passed so many days and nights only cared for by one single +person. + +As I was weakly and my bones were small and friable, I was two years +recovering from this terrible fall, and during that time was nearly always +carried about. I will pass over these two years of my life, which have left +me only a vague memory of being petted, and of a chronic state of torpor. + +One day my mother took me on her knees and said to me, "You are a big girl +now, and you must learn to read and write." I was then seven years old and +could neither read, write, nor count, as I had been five years with the old +nurse and two years ill. "You must go to school," continued my mother, +playing with my curly hair, "like a big girl." I did not know what all this +meant, and I asked what a school was. + +"It's a place where there are many little girls," replied my mother. + +"Are they ill?" I asked. + +"Oh, no. They are quite well, like you are now, and they play together, and +are very gay and happy." + +I jumped about in delight and gave free vent to my joy, but on seeing tears +in my mother's eyes I flung myself in her arms. + +"But what about you, mamma?" I asked. "You will be all alone and you won't +have any little girl." + +She bent down to me and said, "God has told me that he will send me some +flowers and a little baby." + +My delight was more and more boisterous. "Then I shall have a little +brother!" I exclaimed, "or else a little sister! Oh, no, I don't want +that; I don't like little sisters!" + +Mamma kissed me very affectionately, and then I was dressed, I remember, in +a blue corded velvet frock, of which I was very proud. Arrayed thus in all +my splendour, I waited impatiently for Aunt Rosine's carriage, which was to +take us to Auteuil. + +It was about three o'clock when she arrived. The housemaid had gone on +about an hour before, and I had watched with delight my little trunk and my +toys being packed into the carriage. The maid climbed up and took the seat +by the driver, in spite of my mother protesting at first against this. When +my aunt's magnificent equipage arrived, mamma was the first to get in, +slowly and calmly. I got in slowly too, giving myself airs because the +concierge and some of the shop-keepers were watching. My aunt then sprang +in lightly, but by no means calmly, after giving her orders in English to +the stiff, ridiculous-looking coachman, and handing him a paper on which +the address was written. Another carriage followed ours, in which three men +were seated: Régis L----, a friend of my father's, General de P----, and an +artist named Fleury, I think, whose pictures of horses and sporting +subjects were very much in vogue just then. + +I heard on the way that these gentlemen were going to arrange about a +little dinner near Auteuil to console mamma for her great trouble in being +separated from me. Some other guests were to be there to meet them. I did +not pay very much attention to what my mother and my aunt said to each +other. Sometimes when they spoke of me they talked either English or +German, and smiled at me affectionately. The long drive was greatly +appreciated by me, for, with my face pressed against the window and my eyes +wide open, I gazed out eagerly at the grey, muddy road, with its ugly +houses on each side and its bare trees. I thought it was all very +beautiful--because it kept changing. + +The carriage stopped at 18, Rue Boileau, Auteuil. On the iron gate was a +long, dark signboard, with gold letters. I looked up at it, and mamma said: +"You will be able to read that soon, I hope." My aunt whispered to me, +"Boarding School. Madame Fressard," and, very promptly, I said to mamma: +"It says, 'Boarding School. Madame Fressard.'" + +[Illustration: THE EDUCATIONAL ESTABLISHMENT AT AUTEUIL WHERE SARAH +BERNHARDT PASSED SOME OF HER EARLY YEARS. + +_From a Photo. by C. Robert, Paris._] + +Mamma, my aunt, and the three gentlemen laughed heartily at my assurance, +and we entered the house. Mme. Fressard came forward to meet us, and I +liked her at once. She was of medium height, rather stout, with a small +waist, and her hair turning grey "en Sévigné." She had beautiful, large +eyes, rather like George Sand's; very white teeth, which showed up all the +more as her complexion was rather tawny. She looked healthy, spoke kindly; +her hands were plump and her fingers long. She took my hand gently in hers +and, half-kneeling, so that her face was level with mine, she said, in a +musical voice, "You won't be afraid of me, will you, little girl?" I did +not answer, but my face flushed as red as a coxcomb. She asked me several +questions, but I refused to reply. They all gathered round me. "Speak, +child!" "Come, Sarah, be a good girl!" "Oh, the naughty little child!" + +It was all in vain. I remained perfectly mute. The customary round was then +made of the bedrooms, the dining-hall, the class-rooms, and the usual +exaggerated compliments were paid. "How beautifully it is all kept! How +spotlessly clean everything is!" and a hundred stupidities of this kind +about the comfort of these prisons for children. My mother went aside with +Mme. Fressard, and I clung to her knees so that she could not walk. "This +is the doctor's prescription," she said, and then followed a long list of +things that were to be done for me. + +Mme. Fressard smiled rather ironically. "You know, madame," she said to my +mother, "we shall not be able to curl her hair like that." "And you +certainly will not be able to uncurl it," replied my mother, stroking my +head with her gloved hands. "It's a regular wig, and they must never +attempt to comb it until it has been well brushed. They could not possibly +get the knots out otherwise, and it would hurt her too much. What do you +give the children at four o'clock?" she asked, changing the subject. "Oh, a +slice of bread and just what the parents leave for them." + +"There are twelve pots of different kinds of jam," said my mother, "but she +must have jam one day and chocolate another, as she has not a good +appetite, and requires change of food. I have brought six pounds of +chocolate." Mme. Fressard smiled in a good-natured but rather ironical way. +She picked up a packet of the chocolate and looked at the mark. + +"Ah! from Marquis? What a spoilt little girl it is!" She patted my cheek +with her white fingers, and then, as her eyes fell on a large jar, she +looked surprised. "That's cold cream," said my mother. "I make it myself, +and I should like my little girl's face and hands to be rubbed with it +every night when she goes to bed." + +"But----" began Mme. Fressard. + +"Oh, I'll pay double laundry expenses for the sheets," interrupted my +mother, impatiently. (Ah! my poor mother, I remember quite well that my +sheets were changed once a month, like those of the other pupils.) + +The farewell moment came at last, and everyone gathered round mamma, and +finally carried her off, after a great deal of kissing, and with all kinds +of consoling words. "It will be so good for her." "It is just what she +needs." "You'll find her quite changed when you see her again," etc., etc. + +The General, who was very fond of me, picked me up in his arms and tossed +me in the air. + +"You little chit," he said; "they are putting you to the barracks, and +you'll have to mind your pace!" + +I pulled his long moustache, and he said, winking, and looking in the +direction of Mme. Fressard, who had a slight moustache, "You mustn't do +that to the lady, you know!" + +My aunt laughed heartily, and my mother gave a little stifled laugh, and +the whole troop went off in a regular whirlwind of rustling skirts and +farewells, whilst I was taken away to the cage where I was to be +imprisoned. + + * * * * * + +I spent two years at this school, and I learned to read, write, and do +sums. I also learned plenty of new games, and to sing _rondeaux_ and +embroider handkerchiefs for mamma. + +I was comparatively happy on the whole, because we went out on Sundays and +Thursdays, and I had a sort of sensation of liberty on those days. The sun +in the street seemed to me quite different from the sun in the big garden +belonging to the school. My Aunt Felix Faure (no relation to the wife of +the late President) often fetched me and took me out with her. There was a +little brook running through the grounds round her house at Neuilly, and I +used to spend hours fishing in it with my two cousins, a boy and a girl. + +These two years passed by peacefully enough, the chief events being my +terrible fits of temper, which upset the whole school occasionally, and +ended usually by my spending two or three days in the sick-room. One day +Aunt Rosine arrived suddenly, to take me away altogether. My father had +written giving orders as to where I was to be placed, and these orders were +imperative. My mother was travelling, so she had sent word to my aunt, who +had hurried off at once between two dances, to carry out the instructions +she had received. + +The idea that I was to be ordered about without any regard to my own wishes +or inclinations put me into an indescribable rage. I rolled about on the +ground, uttering the most heartrending cries. I yelled out all kinds of +reproaches, blaming mamma, my aunts, and Mme. Fressard for not finding some +way to keep me with her. The struggle lasted two hours, and while I was +being dressed I escaped twice into the garden and attempted to climb the +trees and to throw myself into the pond, in which there was more mud than +water. + +[Illustration: THE GRAND CHAMP CONVENT, VERSAILLES. + +_From a Photo. by C. Robert, Paris._] + +Finally, when I was completely exhausted and subdued, I was taken off +sobbing in my aunt's carriage. + +I stayed three days at her house, as I was so feverish that they all +thought I was sickening for some illness. It proved to be nothing but the +result of my wild fit of anger. + + * * * * * + +I will pass over some pages which my readers will find later on in my +Memoirs, and will go on to the time when I was at the Grand Champ Convent +at Versailles, whither I had been taken after various events. + + * * * * * + +Endowed with a lively imagination and with an extremely sensitive nature, +the Christian legend appealed both to my heart and mind. The Divine Martyr +became my ideal, and the Mother with the Seven Sorrows I simply worshipped. + +An event which seemed simple enough in itself, but which was very +important, as, indeed, everything is which disturbs, if only for an hour, +the tranquillity of convent life, served to attach me more strongly than +ever to this peaceful home. It seemed to me to be the place for all earthly +happiness and the road to eternal peace in the next world. + +The Archbishop of Paris, Monseigneur Sibour, was to honour the convent by +paying a sacerdotal visit. It was not only the father coming to look after +the welfare of his children, but, and more particularly this, it was the +Prince of the Church condescending to appear in the midst of these humble +and holy women and pure children. It was a Divine Majesty coming down from +the throne to mingle with his human subjects. + +The whole convent was in a state of great excitement when the good news was +received, and I must own that there was more enthusiasm than solemnity +visible during the time that preceded the visit. The chapel was decorated +with all its most special ornaments for this most special reception. The +whole house was filled with flowers, and what particularly delighted me and +several of my companions was that a play taken from a Biblical subject was +rehearsed for the benefit of Monseigneur. I should not like to affirm that +the privileged ones who were chosen to take part in this play had no vanity +on their conscience on that particular day. It was no small glory to appear +before a public, limited certainly in number, but so wonderfully select. + +I was only a fragile child at that time, interesting rather than pretty, in +spite of my rose-coloured lips, my "heavenly eyes," as the nuns called +them, and my light gold hair. It is from that far-back time that my +earliest theatrical souvenirs date. It was St. Catherine's Day, a general +holiday in all the convents for girls, but with us, this year, it was a +very great day. Much more attention than usual had been given to the +rehearsals of the play that was to be performed. The subject of the piece +had been taken from the Bible. It was the journey of young Tobias, and had +been written by Sister Thérèse. + +The girls who had _rôles_ were wild with delight. They had had committee +meetings, at which they discussed the quality of the piece, and I may add +that it was unanimously pronounced perfectly wonderful. All around me I +heard nothing but exclamations of joy and admiration, and I alone was +wretched, absolutely wretched, for I had no _rôle_. What misery I endured +in the midst of all this joy! My dear Mother--as we called the elder girls +who looked after us--never thought of trying to comfort me nor yet to +reason with me; she was too much taken up herself with the great event. I +could, therefore, weep and fume to my heart's content. I knew all the +_rôles_ by heart, and I thought that most of the girls recited their parts +very badly. Finally I undertook to coach Louise Bugnet in her _rôle_. She +was to play the part of the guiding angel, and she could not manage it at +all. She was ten years old, and I liked her very much. She was my special +friend. "How silly you are!" I said to her. "If I were in your place I +should not be at all nervous. Listen! this is how I should say it." And +standing in front of her I went through her part, and she then repeated it +much better after me. But the next day, at the final rehearsal, in the +large room which we used on holidays, she was seized with such a trembling +fit that she could not utter a single word. We were all there together, and +Mother Sainte-Appoline was drilling us in her own way. She imitated +Monseigneur Sibour, who was to be present at the performance, and she said, +"When he does like this you must all clap," and when she clapped her long, +delicate hands together, it sounded as though there were cotton-wool +between them. + +I should have enjoyed all this immensely if I had not been furious. I knew +all the _rôles_ and had not a single word to say. Most of the girls were +beaming with pride; Louise Bugnet alone was crying and sobbing. I thought +her very stupid. + +"That child will never get through her part," exclaimed the Mother +Superior. + +"Oh, no, I can't; I am sure I can't!" sobbed my poor little friend. + +There was a general uproar, and all at once I felt my childish heart leap +with the wildest joy. The blood seemed to boil in my veins, and, rushing +from the platform, I jumped on to a form. "Mother! Mother!" I exclaimed, "I +know the _rôle_. Would you like me to take it?" + +Everybody was looking at me. I was trembling, but I felt quite brave. I +knew the part and was sure of myself. + +Mother Sainte-Sophie, the Superior of the Convent, an adorable creature +(one of the happy memories of my childhood), answered: "Well, my dear, let +me hear you." + +I tossed back my refractory hair, and, bold and panting, proceeded to +recite the _rôle_ of the guiding angel. + +"There!" I exclaimed, when I came to the end. + +My schoolfellows laughed, the sisters smiled, but, very much encouraged, I +mounted on to the little platform and the rehearsal commenced. + +"It will be all right," everyone said, and I felt very proud, but still I +was afraid lest I should not get through well enough. + +When the rehearsal was over the luncheon bell rang, but I could neither eat +nor drink; I felt choked and oppressed. How many times since then I have +had this same sensation of physical anguish! + +On the table there was a special treat that day--a dish of custard. I was +very fond of this, but I could not possibly swallow anything. I glanced +anxiously at the girls to see if they were looking or listening. They were +eating and laughing. Louise Bugnet took my share of the custard. "Look +here!" she said, "you've taken my _rôle_, so I can eat your custard." I +began to cry, for I was very fond of custard. Fortunately, just then Sister +Sainte-Marie came to fetch me to be dressed, otherwise I should have had a +fit of temper, and it is quite probable that my silver goblet and my pewter +plate would have landed in the middle of the table. I was taken into the +large committee-room. I had never been in it before, and to my childish +imagination there was something mysterious about it. + +I shuddered on entering, for it seemed to me I should hear all those rules +that were discussed in there twice a month. A looking-glass had been +brought in, the only one I ever saw in the convent. It belonged to Père +Larcher, the gardener, the only man who was free to come in and out of the +house. The glass was too small and was framed in oak, with a bird carved on +the top. I can see it now, with the tinfoil worn off in patches and marks +all over it which interfered with its transparency. The nuns kept at a safe +distance from it as though it were a danger, and their black veils were +lowered over their white crêpe ones. The sister who attended to the +turning-box, the only one in the convent who was not cloistered (because it +was she who had to deal with the tradesmen), was told off to dress us. She +put a long white gown on me with large sleeves, and two beautiful white +wings were then fastened on to me. My hair had been well curled and was +tied over my forehead with a gold lace. + +[Illustration: THE GRAND CHAMP CONVENT FROM THE GARDEN. + +_From a Photo. by C. Robert, Paris._] + +Oh, dear, how my poor little heart was beating! + +Suddenly the convent bells began to peal gaily; a carriage rolled up into +the courtyard and Monseigneur Sibour made his appearance. + +I was too little and could not see, although I did my utmost to make myself +higher. Père Larcher lifted me up in his arms, and then what a magnificent +sight I beheld. + +Monseigneur had alighted from his episcopal carriage and Mother +Sainte-Sophie, our Mother Superior, was kneeling down and kissing his ring. +All the nuns, with bowed heads, were awaiting the signal to kneel down and +receive his blessing. + +I thought all this very beautiful. All these black gowns with white caps, +and then this tall man in violet, with white hair, so majestic looking, and +yet with such a kind, fatherly expression on his face. Then, too, there +were the carriage and the fat coachman, all bedizened and yet sitting up +straight and looking so solemn on his draped seat, and our chaplain, both +gentle and severe--I thought it was all superb, and I decided to become a +nun. + +An hour passed by, during which I knew absolutely nothing of what was said +or done. + +I was waiting, very tired after all my emotion, and half asleep, too, in +the armchair which belonged to the old Mère Sainte-Alexis, the most aged +member of the community. + +A light touch woke me. I was dreaming of my _rôle_ and was not, therefore, +at all surprised. I exclaimed, as I rushed towards the door, "Ah, they are +going to commence!" + +Unfortunately, I had forgotten my long dress, and I fell down in the middle +of the room. The merriment which my accident caused put me in such a rage +that the tears which the pain in my knees brought to my eyes dried up +promptly. "I haven't hurt myself, there now!" I exclaimed, furious, and +then went into the small room which was to serve as our green-room. + +The stage was represented by a plank of wood, which prevented our passing +the limits arranged. There was, of course, no sign of a curtain. A wooden +bench and a table, upon which was the frugal repast of old Tobias, +constituted the scenery. + +Ah! there were also two stools, which one of the girls had to move about as +required. When I entered our green-room the entertainment had commenced, +but it was not time for our play. The eldest boarder was reciting the +address which had been composed in honour of Monseigneur. Her hard, dry +voice, repeating correctly the words she had learned, sounded to me like +the creaking of a door. We were eleven little girls in this small room, and +not one of us uttered a word. We could hear the beating of our hearts. Our +feverish little hands, clasped together from habit in prayer, were +clenched now in terror. + +This opening number was over at last, and the girl was presented with a +cross that had been blessed. She assured us that she had not been nervous, +and that it was quite easy. We had only to look at the bright light which +the sun threw on the frame of the large picture representing Heaven, with +all the angels. In this way each one could imagine herself alone. + +[Illustration: MME. SARAH BERNHARDT. + +_From a Photo. by Lafayette._] + +After this Marie Hubart played a piano-forte solo. Nothing was spared for +this great ceremony, and then, at last, it was our turn. I will not give +the details of the piece, as it is well known. I tell this as one of my +souvenirs, as it was my _début_. I came very near entering a nunnery. It +seemed to me that there was nothing better, nothing which could make me +happier. In my childish imagination I could see angels drawing me +heavenwards. The only way appeared to be through the convent. In the +meantime I was about to appear on the stage. + +I felt paralyzed, and a shudder ran through me from the back of my neck to +my feet. I fancy that I missed the right moment for appearing on the scene, +as one of the girls pushed me forward, just as my professor, Monsieur M. +Provost, had to do some years later when I made my _début_ in "Iphigenia" +at the Comédie Française. My entrance was a success, for I had a sudden fit +of self-assurance, although I was really half delirious with fright, and I +went through my part very well, adding whole phrases to it. I scarcely knew +what I was saying, but I continued nevertheless. + +When the piece was over the guiding angel was sent for by Monseigneur. I +was perfectly triumphant. + +"What's your name, my child?" asked Monseigneur. + +"Sarah," I replied. + +"That name must be changed," he said, smiling. + +"Yes," answered the Superior, "her father wants her to be baptized and to +be called Henriette; the ceremony is to take place in a month." + +"Well, Sarah or Henriette," said Monseigneur, "here is a medal that you +must always wear, and the next time I come here you must recite some +poetry, 'Esther's Prayer,' for me." + +Monseigneur then kissed me, and this caused some jealousy. I promised him +that I would learn "Esther's Prayer" for his next visit. I had only a vague +idea of what he meant by poetry. I knew some fables, but was not aware that +they were poetry. I asked to have something to learn at once for +Monseigneur, and "Esther's Prayer" was given to me. I began to study it +without a moment's delay. Alas! I was never to recite it to him. A few days +later, one morning after prayers, when we were all assembled in the chapel, +the almoner, who was deeply moved, told us in a short address that +Monseigneur Sibour had just been assassinated.[A] Little had we expected to +hear such terrible news. + +All feelings of envy and triumph, together with the joyful remembrance of +our _fête_, were swept away in this great grief, which, for my part, I have +never forgotten. + +Assassinated! A wave of terror seemed to pass over us, and the dread word, +echoing through the church, smote me more particularly. Had I not been +marked out as the favourite of the moment? It was to me as though the +murderer, Verger, had robbed me at the same time of my little share of +glory. I began to cry, more with regret than sorrow, and the prayers for +the dead, that we were told to say, brought my grief to a climax. I was +carried away in a fainting-fit, and it was from that time that I was taken +with an ardent love for mysticism, which was encouraged by our religious +observances, the _mise-en-scène_ of our services, and perhaps, too, by the +fervent and cajoling approval of the women who were educating me. They were +very fond of me and I adored them, so that even now the memory of them +thrills my heart with affection. + +(_To be continued._) + +FOOTNOTES: + +[A] He was killed by the Abbé Verger, a priest who had been suspended from +office, Jan. 1, 1857. + + + + +THE RETURN OF SHERLOCK HOLMES[A]. + +By A. CONAN DOYLE. + + +_VII.--The Adventure of Charles Augustus Milverton._ + +It is years since the incidents of which I speak took place, and yet it is +with diffidence that I allude to them. For a long time, even with the +utmost discretion and reticence, it would have been impossible to make the +facts public; but now the principal person concerned is beyond the reach of +human law, and with due suppression the story may be told in such fashion +as to injure no one. It records an absolutely unique experience in the +career both of Mr. Sherlock Holmes and of myself. The reader will excuse me +if I conceal the date or any other fact by which he might trace the actual +occurrence. + +We had been out for one of our evening rambles, Holmes and I, and had +returned about six o'clock on a cold, frosty winter's evening. As Holmes +turned up the lamp the light fell upon a card on the table. He glanced at +it, and then, with an ejaculation of disgust, threw it on the floor. I +picked it up and read:-- + + CHARLES AUGUSTUS MILVERTON, + APPLEDORE TOWERS, + AGENT. HAMPSTEAD. + +"Who is he?" I asked. + +"The worst man in London," Holmes answered, as he sat down and stretched +his legs before the fire. "Is anything on the back of the card?" + +I turned it over. + +"Will call at 6.30--C. A. M.," I read. + +"Hum! He's about due. Do you feel a creeping, shrinking sensation, Watson, +when you stand before the serpents in the Zoo and see the slithery, +gliding, venomous creatures, with their deadly eyes and wicked, flattened +faces? Well, that's how Milverton impresses me. I've had to do with fifty +murderers in my career, but the worst of them never gave me the repulsion +which I have for this fellow. And yet I can't get out of doing business +with him--indeed, he is here at my invitation." + +"But who is he?" + +"I'll tell you, Watson. He is the king of all the blackmailers. Heaven help +the man, and still more the woman, whose secret and reputation come into +the power of Milverton. With a smiling face and a heart of marble he will +squeeze and squeeze until he has drained them dry. The fellow is a genius +in his way, and would have made his mark in some more savoury trade. His +method is as follows: He allows it to be known that he is prepared to pay +very high sums for letters which compromise people of wealth or position. +He receives these wares not only from treacherous valets or maids, but +frequently from genteel ruffians who have gained the confidence and +affection of trusting women. He deals with no niggard hand. I happen to +know that he paid seven hundred pounds to a footman for a note two lines in +length, and that the ruin of a noble family was the result. Everything +which is in the market goes to Milverton, and there are hundreds in this +great city who turn white at his name. No one knows where his grip may +fall, for he is far too rich and far too cunning to work from hand to +mouth. He will hold a card back for years in order to play it at the moment +when the stake is best worth winning. I have said that he is the worst man +in London, and I would ask you how could one compare the ruffian who in hot +blood bludgeons his mate with this man, who methodically and at his leisure +tortures the soul and wrings the nerves in order to add to his already +swollen money-bags?" + +I had seldom heard my friend speak with such intensity of feeling. + +"But surely," said I, "the fellow must be within the grasp of the law?" + +"Technically, no doubt, but practically not. What would it profit a woman, +for example, to get him a few months' imprisonment if her own ruin must +immediately follow? His victims dare not hit back. If ever he blackmailed +an innocent person, then, indeed, we should have him; but he is as cunning +as the Evil One. No, no; we must find other ways to fight him." + +[Illustration: "CHARLES AUGUSTUS MILVERTON."] + +"And why is he here?" + +"Because an illustrious client has placed her piteous case in my hands. It +is the Lady Eva Brackwell, the most beautiful _débutante_ of last season. +She is to be married in a fortnight to the Earl of Dovercourt. This fiend +has several imprudent letters--imprudent, Watson, nothing worse--which were +written to an impecunious young squire in the country. They would suffice +to break off the match. Milverton will send the letters to the Earl unless +a large sum of money is paid him. I have been commissioned to meet him, +and--to make the best terms I can." + +At that instant there was a clatter and a rattle in the street below. +Looking down I saw a stately carriage and pair, the brilliant lamps +gleaming on the glossy haunches of the noble chestnuts. A footman opened +the door, and a small, stout man in a shaggy astrachan overcoat descended. +A minute later he was in the room. + +Charles Augustus Milverton was a man of fifty, with a large, intellectual +head, a round, plump, hairless face, a perpetual frozen smile, and two keen +grey eyes, which gleamed brightly from behind broad, golden-rimmed glasses. +There was something of Mr. Pickwick's benevolence in his appearance, marred +only by the insincerity of the fixed smile and by the hard glitter of those +restless and penetrating eyes. His voice was as smooth and suave as his +countenance, as he advanced with a plump little hand extended, murmuring +his regret for having missed us at his first visit. Holmes disregarded the +outstretched hand and looked at him with a face of granite. Milverton's +smile broadened; he shrugged his shoulders, removed his overcoat, folded it +with great deliberation over the back of a chair, and then took a seat. + +"This gentleman?" said he, with a wave in my direction. "Is it discreet? Is +it right?" + +"Dr. Watson is my friend and partner." + +"Very good, Mr. Holmes. It is only in your client's interests that I +protested. The matter is so very delicate----" + +"Dr. Watson has already heard of it." + +"Then we can proceed to business. You say that you are acting for Lady Eva. +Has she empowered you to accept my terms?" + +"What are your terms?" + +"Seven thousand pounds." + +"And the alternative?" + +"My dear sir, it is painful to me to discuss it; but if the money is not +paid on the 14th there certainly will be no marriage on the 18th." His +insufferable smile was more complacent than ever. + +Holmes thought for a little. + +"You appear to me," he said, at last, "to be taking matters too much for +granted. I am, of course, familiar with the contents of these letters. My +client will certainly do what I may advise. I shall counsel her to tell her +future husband the whole story and to trust to his generosity." + +Milverton chuckled. + +"You evidently do not know the Earl," said he. + +From the baffled look upon Holmes's face I could clearly see that he did. + +"What harm is there in the letters?" he asked. + +"They are sprightly--very sprightly," Milverton answered. "The lady was a +charming correspondent. But I can assure you that the Earl of Dovercourt +would fail to appreciate them. However, since you think otherwise, we will +let it rest at that. It is purely a matter of business. If you think that +it is in the best interests of your client that these letters should be +placed in the hands of the Earl, then you would indeed be foolish to pay so +large a sum of money to regain them." He rose and seized his astrachan +coat. + +Holmes was grey with anger and mortification. + +"Wait a little," he said. "You go too fast. We would certainly make every +effort to avoid scandal in so delicate a matter." + +Milverton relapsed into his chair. + +"I was sure that you would see it in that light," he purred. + +"At the same time," Holmes continued, "Lady Eva is not a wealthy woman. I +assure you that two thousand pounds would be a drain upon her resources, +and that the sum you name is utterly beyond her power. I beg, therefore, +that you will moderate your demands, and that you will return the letters +at the price I indicate, which is, I assure you, the highest that you can +get." + +Milverton's smile broadened and his eyes twinkled humorously. + +"I am aware that what you say is true about the lady's resources," said he. +"At the same time, you must admit that the occasion of a lady's marriage is +a very suitable time for her friends and relatives to make some little +effort upon her behalf. They may hesitate as to an acceptable wedding +present. Let me assure them that this little bundle of letters would give +more joy than all the candelabra and butter-dishes in London." + +"It is impossible," said Holmes. + +"Dear me, dear me, how unfortunate!" cried Milverton, taking out a bulky +pocket-book. "I cannot help thinking that ladies are ill-advised in not +making an effort. Look at this!" He held up a little note with a +coat-of-arms upon the envelope. "That belongs to--well, perhaps it is +hardly fair to tell the name until to-morrow morning. But at that time it +will be in the hands of the lady's husband. And all because she will not +find a beggarly sum which she could get in an hour by turning her diamonds +into paste. It _is_ such a pity. Now, you remember the sudden end of the +engagement between the Honourable Miss Miles and Colonel Dorking? Only two +days before the wedding there was a paragraph in the _Morning Post_ to say +that it was all off. And why? It is almost incredible, but the absurd sum +of twelve hundred pounds would have settled the whole question. Is it not +pitiful? And here I find you, a man of sense, boggling about terms when +your client's future and honour are at stake. You surprise me, Mr. Holmes." + +"What I say is true," Holmes answered. "The money cannot be found. Surely +it is better for you to take the substantial sum which I offer than to ruin +this woman's career, which can profit you in no way?" + +"There you make a mistake, Mr. Holmes. An exposure would profit me +indirectly to a considerable extent. I have eight or ten similar cases +maturing. If it was circulated among them that I had made a severe example +of the Lady Eva I should find all of them much more open to reason. You see +my point?" + +Holmes sprang from his chair. + +"Get behind him, Watson! Don't let him out! Now, sir, let us see the +contents of that note-book." + +Milverton had glided as quick as a rat to the side of the room, and stood +with his back against the wall. + +"Mr. Holmes, Mr. Holmes," he said, turning the front of his coat and +exhibiting the butt of a large revolver, which projected from the inside +pocket. "I have been expecting you to do something original. This has been +done so often, and what good has ever come from it? I assure you that I am +armed to the teeth, and I am perfectly prepared to use my weapons, knowing +that the law will support me. Besides, your supposition that I would bring +the letters here in a note-book is entirely mistaken. I would do nothing so +foolish. And now, gentlemen, I have one or two little interviews this +evening, and it is a long drive to Hampstead." He stepped forward, took up +his coat, laid his hand on his revolver, and turned to the door. I picked +up a chair, but Holmes shook his head and I laid it down again. With a bow, +a smile, and a twinkle Milverton was out of the room, and a few moments +after we heard the slam of the carriage door and the rattle of the wheels +as he drove away. + +[Illustration: "EXHIBITING THE BUTT OF A LARGE REVOLVER, WHICH PROJECTED +FROM THE INSIDE POCKET."] + +Holmes sat motionless by the fire, his hands buried deep in his trouser +pockets, his chin sunk upon his breast, his eyes fixed upon the glowing +embers. For half an hour he was silent and still. Then, with the gesture of +a man who has taken his decision, he sprang to his feet and passed into his +bedroom. A little later a rakish young work-man with a goatee beard and a +swagger lit his clay pipe at the lamp before descending into the street. +"I'll be back some time, Watson," said he, and vanished into the night. I +understood that he had opened his campaign against Charles Augustus +Milverton; but I little dreamed the strange shape which that campaign was +destined to take. + +For some days Holmes came and went at all hours in this attire, but beyond +a remark that his time was spent at Hampstead, and that it was not wasted, +I knew nothing of what he was doing. At last, however, on a wild, +tempestuous evening, when the wind screamed and rattled against the +windows, he returned from his last expedition, and having removed his +disguise he sat before the fire and laughed heartily in his silent inward +fashion. + +"You would not call me a marrying man, Watson?" + +"No, indeed!" + +"You'll be interested to hear that I am engaged." + +"My dear fellow! I congrat----" + +"To Milverton's housemaid." + +"Good heavens, Holmes!" + +"I wanted information, Watson." + +"Surely you have gone too far?" + +"It was a most necessary step. I am a plumber with a rising business, +Escott by name. I have walked out with her each evening, and I have talked +with her. Good heavens, those talks! However, I have got all I wanted. I +know Milverton's house as I know the palm of my hand." + +"But the girl, Holmes?" + +He shrugged his shoulders. + +"You can't help it, my dear Watson. You must play your cards as best you +can when such a stake is on the table. However, I rejoice to say that I +have a hated rival who will certainly cut me out the instant that my back +is turned. What a splendid night it is!" + +"You like this weather?" + +"It suits my purpose. Watson, I mean to burgle Milverton's house to-night." + +I had a catching of the breath, and my skin went cold at the words, which +were slowly uttered in a tone of concentrated resolution. As a flash of +lightning in the night shows up in an instant every detail of a wide +landscape, so at one glance I seemed to see every possible result of such +an action--the detection, the capture, the honoured career ending in +irreparable failure and disgrace, my friend himself lying at the mercy of +the odious Milverton. + +"For Heaven's sake, Holmes, think what you are doing," I cried. + +"My dear fellow, I have given it every consideration. I am never +precipitate in my actions, nor would I adopt so energetic and indeed so +dangerous a course if any other were possible. Let us look at the matter +clearly and fairly. I suppose that you will admit that the action is +morally justifiable, though technically criminal. To burgle his house is no +more than to forcibly take his pocket-book--an action in which you were +prepared to aid me." + +I turned it over in my mind. + +"Yes," I said; "it is morally justifiable so long as our object is to take +no articles save those which are used for an illegal purpose." + +"Exactly. Since it is morally justifiable I have only to consider the +question of personal risk. Surely a gentleman should not lay much stress +upon this when a lady is in most desperate need of his help?" + +"You will be in such a false position." + +"Well, that is part of the risk. There is no other possible way of +regaining these letters. The unfortunate lady has not the money, and there +are none of her people in whom she could confide. To-morrow is the last day +of grace, and unless we can get the letters to-night this villain will be +as good as his word and will bring about her ruin. I must, therefore, +abandon my client to her fate or I must play this last card. Between +ourselves, Watson, it's a sporting duel between this fellow Milverton and +me. He had, as you saw, the best of the first exchanges; but my +self-respect and my reputation are concerned to fight it to a finish." + +"Well, I don't like it; but I suppose it must be," said I. "When do we +start?" + +"You are not coming." + +"Then you are not going," said I. "I give you my word of honour--and I +never broke it in my life--that I will take a cab straight to the +police-station and give you away unless you let me share this adventure +with you." + +"You can't help me." + +"How do you know that? You can't tell what may happen. Anyway, my +resolution is taken. Other people beside you have self-respect and even +reputations." + +Holmes had looked annoyed, but his brow cleared, and he clapped me on the +shoulder. + +"Well, well, my dear fellow, be it so. We have shared the same room for +some years, and it would be amusing if we ended by sharing the same cell. +You know, Watson, I don't mind confessing to you that I have always had an +idea that I would have made a highly efficient criminal. This is the chance +of my lifetime in that direction. See here!" He took a neat little leather +case out of a drawer, and opening it he exhibited a number of shining +instruments. "This is a first-class, up-to-date burgling kit, with +nickel-plated jemmy, diamond-tipped glass-cutter, adaptable keys, and every +modern improvement which the march of civilization demands. Here, too, is +my dark lantern. Everything is in order. Have you a pair of silent shoes?" + +"I have rubber-soled tennis shoes." + +"Excellent. And a mask?" + +"I can make a couple out of black silk." + +"I can see that you have a strong natural turn for this sort of thing. Very +good; do you make the masks. We shall have some cold supper before we +start. It is now nine-thirty. At eleven we shall drive as far as Church +Row. It is a quarter of an hour's walk from there to Appledore Towers. We +shall be at work before midnight. Milverton is a heavy sleeper and retires +punctually at ten-thirty. With any luck we should be back here by two, with +the Lady Eva's letters in my pocket." + +Holmes and I put on our dress-clothes, so that we might appear to be two +theatre-goers homeward bound. In Oxford Street we picked up a hansom and +drove to an address in Hampstead. Here we paid off our cab, and with our +great-coats buttoned up, for it was bitterly cold and the wind seemed to +blow through us, we walked along the edge of the Heath. + +"It's a business that needs delicate treatment," said Holmes. "These +documents are contained in a safe in the fellow's study, and the study is +the ante-room of his bed-chamber. On the other hand, like all these stout, +little men who do themselves well, he is a plethoric sleeper. +Agatha--that's my _fiancée_--says it is a joke in the servants' hall that +it's impossible to wake the master. He has a secretary who is devoted to +his interests and never budges from the study all day. That's why we are +going at night. Then he has a beast of a dog which roams the garden. I met +Agatha late the last two evenings, and she locks the brute up so as to give +me a clear run. This is the house, this big one in its own grounds. Through +the gate--now to the right among the laurels. We might put on our masks +here, I think. You see, there is not a glimmer of light in any of the +windows, and everything is working splendidly." + +With our black silk face-coverings, which turned us into two of the most +truculent figures in London, we stole up to the silent, gloomy house. A +sort of tiled veranda extended along one side of it, lined by several +windows and two doors. + +"That's his bedroom," Holmes whispered. "This door opens straight into the +study. It would suit us best, but it is bolted as well as locked, and we +should make too much noise getting in. Come round here. There's a +greenhouse which opens into the drawing-room." + +The place was locked, but Holmes removed a circle of glass and turned the +key from the inside. An instant afterwards he had closed the door behind +us, and we had become felons in the eyes of the law. The thick, warm air of +the conservatory and the rich, choking fragrance of exotic plants took us +by the throat. He seized my hand in the darkness and led me swiftly past +banks of shrubs which brushed against our faces. Holmes had remarkable +powers, carefully cultivated, of seeing in the dark. Still holding my hand +in one of his he opened a door, and I was vaguely conscious that we had +entered a large room in which a cigar had been smoked not long before. He +felt his way among the furniture, opened another door, and closed it behind +us. Putting out my hand I felt several coats hanging from the wall, and I +understood that I was in a passage. We passed along it, and Holmes very +gently opened a door upon the right-hand side. Something rushed out at us +and my heart sprang into my mouth, but I could have laughed when I realized +that it was the cat. A fire was burning in this new room, and again the air +was heavy with tobacco smoke. Holmes entered on tip-toe, waited for me to +follow, and then very gently closed the door. We were in Milverton's study, +and a _portière_ at the farther side showed the entrance to his bedroom. + +It was a good fire, and the room was illuminated by it. Near the door I saw +the gleam of an electric switch, but it was unnecessary, even if it had +been safe, to turn it on. At one side of the fireplace was a heavy curtain, +which covered the bay window we had seen from outside. On the other side +was the door which communicated with the veranda. A desk stood in the +centre, with a turning chair of shining red leather. Opposite was a large +bookcase, with a marble bust of Athene on the top. In the corner between +the bookcase and the wall there stood a tall green safe, the firelight +flashing back from the polished brass knobs upon its face. Holmes stole +across and looked at it. Then he crept to the door of the bedroom, and +stood with slanting head listening intently. No sound came from within. +Meanwhile it had struck me that it would be wise to secure our retreat +through the outer door, so I examined it. To my amazement it was neither +locked nor bolted! I touched Holmes on the arm, and he turned his masked +face in that direction. I saw him start, and he was evidently as surprised +as I. + +"I don't like it," he whispered, putting his lips to my very ear. "I can't +quite make it out. Anyhow, we have no time to lose." + +"Can I do anything?" + +"Yes; stand by the door. If you hear anyone come, bolt it on the inside, +and we can get away as we came. If they come the other way, we can get +through the door if our job is done, or hide behind these window curtains +if it is not. Do you understand?" + +I nodded and stood by the door. My first feeling of fear had passed away, +and I thrilled now with a keener zest than I had ever enjoyed when we were +the defenders of the law instead of its defiers. The high object of our +mission, the consciousness that it was unselfish and chivalrous, the +villainous character of our opponent, all added to the sporting interest of +the adventure. Far from feeling guilty, I rejoiced and exulted in our +dangers. With a glow of admiration I watched Holmes unrolling his case of +instruments and choosing his tool with the calm, scientific accuracy of a +surgeon who performs a delicate operation. I knew that the opening of safes +was a particular hobby with him, and I understood the joy which it gave him +to be confronted with this green and gold monster, the dragon which held +in its maw the reputations of many fair ladies. Turning up the cuffs of his +dress-coat--he had placed his overcoat on a chair--Holmes laid out two +drills, a jemmy, and several skeleton keys. I stood at the centre door with +my eyes glancing at each of the others, ready for any emergency; though, +indeed, my plans were somewhat vague as to what I should do if we were +interrupted. For half an hour Holmes worked with concentrated energy, +laying down one tool, picking up another, handling each with the strength +and delicacy of the trained mechanic. Finally I heard a click, the broad +green door swung open, and inside I had a glimpse of a number of paper +packets, each tied, sealed, and inscribed. Holmes picked one out, but it +was hard to read by the flickering fire, and he drew out his little dark +lantern, for it was too dangerous, with Milverton in the next room, to +switch on the electric light. Suddenly I saw him halt, listen intently, and +then in an instant he had swung the door of the safe to, picked up his +coat, stuffed his tools into the pockets, and darted behind the window +curtain, motioning me to do the same. + +[Illustration: "HE STOOD WITH SLANTING HEAD LISTENING INTENTLY."] + +It was only when I had joined him there that I heard what had alarmed his +quicker senses. There was a noise somewhere within the house. A door +slammed in the distance. Then a confused, dull murmur broke itself into the +measured thud of heavy footsteps rapidly approaching. They were in the +passage outside the room. They paused at the door. The door opened. There +was a sharp snick as the electric light was turned on. The door closed once +more, and the pungent reek of a strong cigar was borne to our nostrils. +Then the footsteps continued backwards and forwards, backwards and +forwards, within a few yards of us. Finally, there was a creak from a +chair, and the footsteps ceased. Then a key clicked in a lock and I heard +the rustle of papers. + +So far I had not dared to look out, but now I gently parted the division of +the curtains in front of me and peeped through. From the pressure of +Holmes's shoulder against mine I knew that he was sharing my observations. +Right in front of us, and almost within our reach, was the broad, rounded +back of Milverton. It was evident that we had entirely miscalculated his +movements, that he had never been to his bedroom, but that he had been +sitting up in some smoking or billiard room in the farther wing of the +house, the windows of which we had not seen. His broad, grizzled head, with +its shining patch of baldness, was in the immediate foreground of our +vision. He was leaning far back in the red leather chair, his legs +outstretched, a long black cigar projecting at an angle from his mouth. He +wore a semi-military smoking jacket, claret-coloured, with a black velvet +collar. In his hand he held a long legal document, which he was reading in +an indolent fashion, blowing rings of tobacco smoke from his lips as he did +so. There was no promise of a speedy departure in his composed bearing and +his comfortable attitude. + +I felt Holmes's hand steal into mine and give me a reassuring shake, as if +to say that the situation was within his powers and that he was easy in his +mind. I was not sure whether he had seen what was only too obvious from my +position, that the door of the safe was imperfectly closed, and that +Milverton might at any moment observe it. In my own mind I had determined +that if I were sure, from the rigidity of his gaze, that it had caught his +eye, I would at once spring out, throw my great-coat over his head, pinion +him, and leave the rest to Holmes. But Milverton never looked up. He was +languidly interested by the papers in his hand, and page after page was +turned as he followed the argument of the lawyer. At least, I thought, when +he has finished the document and the cigar he will go to his room; but +before he had reached the end of either there came a remarkable development +which turned our thoughts into quite another channel. + +Several times I had observed that Milverton looked at his watch, and once +he had risen and sat down again, with a gesture of impatience. The idea, +however, that he might have an appointment at so strange an hour never +occurred to me until a faint sound reached my ears from the veranda +outside. Milverton dropped his papers and sat rigid in his chair. The sound +was repeated, and then there came a gentle tap at the door. Milverton rose +and opened it. + +"Well," said he, curtly, "you are nearly half an hour late." + +So this was the explanation of the unlocked door and of the nocturnal vigil +of Milverton. There was the gentle rustle of a woman's dress. I had closed +the slit between the curtains as Milverton's face had turned in our +direction, but now I ventured very carefully to open it once more. He had +resumed his seat, the cigar still projecting at an insolent angle from the +corner of his mouth. In front of him, in the full glare of the electric +light, there stood a tall, slim, dark woman, a veil over her face, a mantle +drawn round her chin. Her breath came quick and fast, and every inch of the +lithe figure was quivering with strong emotion. + +"Well," said Milverton, "you've made me lose a good night's rest, my dear. +I hope you'll prove worth it. You couldn't come any other time--eh?" + +[Illustration: "YOU COULDN'T COME ANY OTHER TIME--EH?"] + +The woman shook her head. + +"Well, if you couldn't you couldn't. If the Countess is a hard mistress you +have your chance to get level with her now. Bless the girl, what are you +shivering about? That's right! Pull yourself together! Now, let us get down +to business." He took a note from the drawer of his desk. "You say that you +have five letters which compromise the Countess d'Albert. You want to sell +them. I want to buy them. So far so good. It only remains to fix a price. I +should want to inspect the letters, of course. If they are really good +specimens----Great heavens, is it you?" + +The woman without a word had raised her veil and dropped the mantle from +her chin. It was a dark, handsome, clear-cut face which confronted +Milverton, a face with a curved nose, strong, dark eyebrows shading hard, +glittering eyes, and a straight, thin-lipped mouth set in a dangerous +smile. + +"It is I," she said; "the woman whose life you have ruined." + +Milverton laughed, but fear vibrated in his voice. "You were so very +obstinate," said he. "Why did you drive me to such extremities? I assure +you I wouldn't hurt a fly of my own accord, but every man has his business, +and what was I to do? I put the price well within your means. You would not +pay." + +"So you sent the letters to my husband, and he, the noblest gentleman that +ever lived, a man whose boots I was never worthy to lace--he broke his +gallant heart and died. You remember that last night when I came through +that door I begged and prayed you for mercy, and you laughed in my face as +you are trying to laugh now, only your coward heart cannot keep your lips +from twitching? Yes, you never thought to see me here again, but it was +that night which taught me how I could meet you face to face, and alone. +Well, Charles Milverton, what have you to say?" + +"Don't imagine that you can bully me," said he, rising to his feet. "I have +only to raise my voice, and I could call my servants and have you arrested. +But I will make allowance for your natural anger. Leave the room at once as +you came, and I will say no more." + +The woman stood with her hand buried in her bosom, and the same deadly +smile on her thin lips. + +"You will ruin no more lives as you ruined mine. You will wring no more +hearts as you wrung mine. I will free the world of a poisonous thing. Take +that, you hound, and that!--and that!--and that!--and that!" + +She had drawn a little, gleaming revolver, and emptied barrel after barrel +into Milverton's body, the muzzle within two feet of his shirt front. He +shrank away and then fell forward upon the table, coughing furiously and +clawing among the papers. Then he staggered to his feet, received another +shot, and rolled upon the floor. "You've done me," he cried, and lay still. +The woman looked at him intently and ground her heel into his upturned +face. She looked again, but there was no sound or movement. I heard a sharp +rustle, the night air blew into the heated room, and the avenger was gone. + +No interference upon our part could have saved the man from his fate; but +as the woman poured bullet after bullet into Milverton's shrinking body I +was about to spring out, when I felt Holmes's cold, strong grasp upon my +wrist. I understood the whole argument of that firm, restraining grip--that +it was no affair of ours; that justice had overtaken a villain; that we had +our own duties and our own objects which were not to be lost sight of. But +hardly had the woman rushed from the room when Holmes, with swift, silent +steps, was over at the other door. He turned the key in the lock. At the +same instant we heard voices in the house and the sound of hurrying feet. +The revolver shots had roused the household. With perfect coolness Holmes +slipped across to the safe, filled his two arms with bundles of letters, +and poured them all into the fire. Again and again he did it, until the +safe was empty. Someone turned the handle and beat upon the outside of the +door. Holmes looked swiftly round. The letter which had been the messenger +of death for Milverton lay, all mottled with his blood, upon the table. +Holmes tossed it in among the blazing papers. Then he drew the key from the +outer door, passed through after me, and locked it on the outside. "This +way, Watson," said he; "we can scale the garden wall in this direction." + +I could not have believed that an alarm could have spread so swiftly. +Looking back, the huge house was one blaze of light. The front door was +open, and figures were rushing down the drive. The whole garden was alive +with people, and one fellow raised a view-halloa as we emerged from the +veranda and followed hard at our heels. Holmes seemed to know the ground +perfectly, and he threaded his way swiftly among a plantation of small +trees, I close at his heels, and our foremost pursuer panting behind us. It +was a six-foot wall which barred our path, but he sprang to the top and +over. As I did the same I felt the hand of the man behind me grab at my +ankle; but I kicked myself free and scrambled over a glass-strewn coping. I +fell upon my face among some bushes; but Holmes had me on my feet in an +instant, and together we dashed away across the huge expanse of Hampstead +Heath. We had run two miles, I suppose, before Holmes at last halted and +listened intently. All was absolute silence behind us. We had shaken off +our pursuers and were safe. + + * * * * * + +[Illustration: "THEN HE STAGGERED TO HIS FEET AND RECEIVED ANOTHER SHOT."] + +We had breakfasted and were smoking our morning pipe on the day after the +remarkable experience which I have recorded when Mr. Lestrade, of Scotland +Yard, very solemn and impressive, was ushered into our modest sitting-room. + +"Good morning, Mr. Holmes," said he; "good morning. May I ask if you are +very busy just now?" + +"Not too busy to listen to you." + +"I thought that, perhaps, if you had nothing particular on hand, you might +care to assist us in a most remarkable case which occurred only last night +at Hampstead." + +"Dear me!" said Holmes. "What was that?" + +"A murder--a most dramatic and remarkable murder. I know how keen you are +upon these things, and I would take it as a great favour if you would step +down to Appledore Towers and give us the benefit of your advice. It is no +ordinary crime. We have had our eyes upon this Mr. Milverton for some time, +and, between ourselves, he was a bit of a villain. He is known to have held +papers which he used for blackmailing purposes. These papers have all been +burned by the murderers. No article of value was taken, as it is probable +that the criminals were men of good position, whose sole object was to +prevent social exposure." + +[Illustration: "FOLLOWING HIS GAZE I SAW THE PICTURE OF A REGAL AND STATELY +LADY IN COURT DRESS."] + +"Criminals!" said Holmes. "Plural!" + +"Yes, there were two of them. They were, as nearly as possible, captured +red-handed. We have their foot-marks, we have their description; it's ten +to one that we trace them. The first fellow was a bit too active, but the +second was caught by the under-gardener and only got away after a struggle. +He was a middle-sized, strongly-built man--square jaw, thick neck, +moustache, a mask over his eyes." + +"That's rather vague," said Sherlock Holmes. "Why, it might be a +description of Watson!" + +"It's true," said the inspector, with much amusement. "It might be a +description of Watson." + +"Well, I am afraid I can't help you, Lestrade," said Holmes. "The fact is +that I knew this fellow Milverton, that I considered him one of the most +dangerous men in London, and that I think there are certain crimes which +the law cannot touch, and which therefore, to some extent, justify private +revenge. No, it's no use arguing. I have made up my mind. My sympathies are +with the criminals rather than with the victim, and I will not handle this +case." + + * * * * * + +Holmes had not said one word to me about the tragedy which we had +witnessed, but I observed all the morning that he was in his most +thoughtful mood, and he gave me the impression, from his vacant eyes and +his abstracted manner, of a man who is striving to recall something to his +memory. We were in the middle of our lunch when he suddenly sprang to his +feet. "By Jove, Watson; I've got it!" he cried. "Take your hat! Come with +me!" He hurried at his top speed down Baker Street and along Oxford Street, +until we had almost reached Regent Circus. Here on the left hand there +stands a shop window filled with photographs of the celebrities and +beauties of the day. Holmes's eyes fixed themselves upon one of them, and +following his gaze I saw the picture of a regal and stately lady in Court +dress, with a high diamond tiara upon her noble head. I looked at that +delicately-curved nose, at the marked eyebrows, at the straight mouth, and +the strong little chin beneath it. Then I caught my breath as I read the +time-honoured title of the great nobleman and statesman whose wife she had +been. My eyes met those of Holmes, and he put his finger to his lips as we +turned away from the window. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[A] Copyright, 1904, by A. Conan Doyle, in the United States of America. + + + + +_The Romance of the Bronze Duke._ + + +On a green mound commanding Cæsar's Plain, Aldershot, a rider and his horse +survey the landscape. Occasionally soldiers come up and salute +them--sometimes singly, sometimes in companies, often in battalions. But +the salute is never returned; both rider and horse remain rigid. The sun +sets and finds them still at their post; it rises and they have never +stirred. The explanation is simple--this giant horse and horseman are of +bronze; they form the greatest equestrian group in the world. + +Yet the pair have not always been thus stationary. They have been thrice +moved and may be moved thrice again. Perhaps in the watches of the night on +Cæsar's Plain they are thinking of their past, and of the protracted +episode which once shook the society of the British capital to its centre, +and in which they played the chief part. Factions raged around them ere +they left their humble birthplace in the Harrow Road, and for a time the +bronze enjoyed far more celebrity than its original, the Iron Duke. + +[Illustration: SOLDIERS SALUTING THE DUKE'S STATUE, AS IT STANDS AT +ALDERSHOT TO-DAY. + +_From a Photo. By Knight, Aldershot._] + +The story is well worth telling, for nobody remembers it now. Seventy years +ago, although England had then no sculptors to speak of, there was a +general passion for erecting statues. The statues were nearly all bad, of +course, and to the decade between 1830 and 1840 the kingdom owes some of +its worst atrocities in this department of art. About the time the late +Queen came to the throne, a sculptor, Matthew Wyatt, was commissioned to +execute a statue of George III. The result may be seen in Cockspur Street +to-day. Critics complained that it was too small. The reproach greatly +offended Wyatt, who roundly declared that he had not aimed at bigness, but +that if size had been in question he was quite capable of modelling a +statue larger than any Michael Angelo or the Indian idolmakers had ever +attempted. He mentioned this to an ardent worshipper of the Duke of +Wellington in the City, a Common Councilman named Simpson, who had already +raised subscriptions for one Wellington equestrian group, now in front of +the Royal Exchange. Simpson and Wyatt talked it over, and the result was +the formation of a committee, headed by the Duke of Rutland, and the +raising of fourteen thousand pounds for the erection of a memorial to the +Duke in the West-end. This body duly handed the commission over to Wyatt as +"in every respect eminently qualified to be entrusted with the proposed +equestrian statue." + +On this point it was plain that there were two opinions prevalent. Wyatt +now prepared to realize his boast, and boldly announced that the equestrian +statue should be of Titanic proportions. As to the site of his handiwork +thereby hangs a tale. Wyatt had a friend with whom he had quarrelled, named +Decimus Burton. This Burton, an architect, had recently erected a mighty +triumphal arch at the entrance to Green Park. It formed a great feature in +the magnificent plan submitted to Parliament in 1827 for the +"re-edification" of Buckingham Palace. In this costly design the above arch +was to form the Royal entrance to the palace gardens, to be laid out to +suit the rather luxurious taste of George IV. + +The arch was eighty feet high. Burton's original idea was to embellish the +main piers with groups of trophies; to place the figure of a warrior on +each stylobate; to enrich the base with a sculptural representation of an +ancient triumph; to place a statue over each column; and various other +embellishments. But all this ambitious plan was instantly shortened by +Wyatt's declaring his intention of placing his colossal statue not in the +middle of Hyde Park, or even of Green Park, or Kensington Gardens, but on +the very summit of Burton's arch! + +The unfortunate architect was beside himself with rage at the suggestion. +He protested, but he protested in vain. The complaisant committee had quite +fallen in with Wyatt's idea. But it was not so the Government, the Royal +Academy, and the Press. They heaped ridicule upon both the project and the +sculptor. They roundly declared that it would ruin the unity and symmetry +of his building. Then began an acrimonious discussion between the friends +of Wyatt and the objectors to his proposed statue. All London divided +itself into factions. The common topic of drawing room and dinner +conversation was, "Are you for or against putting a gigantic Iron Duke on +the top of the arch?" "Brazen impudence!" wrote Thackeray, himself an +artist. + +Meanwhile, in the studio in the Harrow Road, opposite the Dudley Arms +Tavern, the lucky sculptor had been proceeding with his task. He prepared +several models and designs, and the sub-committee availed themselves of a +model of the Hyde Park Corner arch to consider, which they did with the +greatest attention, the position and relative size of the statue to be +placed on the summit. Wyatt then prepared a drawing of the arch with the +equestrian statue, of which the sub-committee approved. + +But at this point the Lords of the Treasury stepped in with an injunction. +As the modelling and casting went on the battle raged. Macaulay wrote from +India that the sculptor and his friends "ought to be in Bedlam"; his +antagonist, Croker, inquired blandly "what a Whig Dissenter knew of high +art." "High" art then became a joke. To the query, "What is the very +_highest_ form of art?" the jocular answer was, "Wyatt's Duke." The +newspapers between 1840 and 1846 contain innumerable references to and +descriptions of the statue, and the progress it was making towards +completion. + +We are told that the plaster of Paris used in the stupendous work +considerably exceeded one hundred tons; it was formed upon a turn-plate, or +revolving platform, upwards of twenty feet across, travelling upon forty +rollers and weighing in itself several tons. The vastness of the model +required certain precautions to ensure its integrity. To give strength to +the body of the horse, a beam passed through it longitudinally, like a +backbone from which spring traverse timbers, like the ribs of a ship. From +the body of the horse was a line of iron bolts, beneath which, in the early +stage of the modelling, were placed props for security in shifting the +figure by means of the platform, so as to obtain the most desirable +position for light, etc. To reach the different parts of the statue a +travelling stage with a shifting floor was constructed, so that it might be +adjusted to any height. + +The entire group represented the Duke of Wellington as he appeared on the +field of Waterloo upon his favourite horse, Copenhagen. The Duke--at least +so Wyatt declared, although this was denied--sat to the sculptor for the +portrait, the warrior wearing his customary short cloak, which the artist +draped so as to give it something of the grace of classic costume. But the +sculptor's intentions generally surpassed his execution. + +For melting the sixty tons of bronze Wyatt erected two great furnaces. The +first employed was capable of melting only twelve tons at a time, whereas +it was found desirable to cast the remainder of the statue in larger and +consequently fewer pieces. A record furnace was therefore built capable of +melting twenty tons at a time. + +The mould and core being placed in the pit in the foundry, the bronze was +run into it from the furnace, and the body of the horse and the lower +portion of the rider were thus cast in two parts of about twenty tons each. +These were magnificent castings, and the effect of so large a surface of +molten compound as the twenty tons presented is described as very +extraordinary. The statue, or rather group, was thus cast in about eight +pieces. In each case the mould was placed in the pit embedded in sand, +rammed in as tightly as possible; yet in casting the front of the horse, by +some means six tons of metal escaped through the mould, the chest of the +horse was left vacant, and the casting was consequently spoiled. In order +that the legs of the horse should be capable of carrying the great weight +they would have to sustain it was found necessary to cast them solid. The +other portions of the work vary from one to three inches in thickness, with +strong ribs internally to give additional strength. Its height approaches +thirty feet, and such is the bulk of the horse that eight persons once +dined within one-half of it. + +The following are some of the main dimensions:-- + + Ft. in. +Girth round the horse 22 8 +Ditto arm of 5 4 +From the horse's hocks to the ground 6 0 +From the horse's nose to the tail 26 0 +Length of head 6 0 +Length of each ear 2 4 + +The group being cast in pieces as above, they were joined partly by +screw-bolts two inches in thickness. Owing to the colossal size of the +group there were, for some time, upwards of thirty men employed at once +upon the bronze; and in case of any work being requisite to be done within +the figure of the rider, the head was removed to allow the workmen to +descend through the neck. The cleansing, chasing, and finishing occupied a +considerable time. + +[Illustration: THE STATUE AT MR. WYATT'S FOUNDRY. + +_From the "Illustrated London News."_] + +At last, after being repeatedly canvassed in Parliament and in the country +for six years, provoking a greater degree of heat than perhaps any statue +in the world had ever provoked before, the business was supposed to be +temporarily settled by the authorities agreeing to allow the statue to be +placed on the arch "on three weeks' probation," when, "if the location +proved to be injudicious," it was to be removed. Whereat there was great +joy at the sculptor's studio in the Harrow Road. The Duke of Rutland jumped +into his carriage and flew thither himself to bear the glad tidings. + +"Once it's up," he is said to have cried, "the devil himself can't pull it +down!" + +When the gigantic horse and rider was all but finished it was hoisted out +of the pit in the foundry and placed upon an enormous car, built especially +for the purpose at Woolwich Dockyard. The roof of the foundry had first to +be removed and one of the walls completely demolished to allow of the entry +of the car, which weighed no less than twenty tons. Its wheels were twenty +feet in diameter, with radiating cast-iron spokes, and were surmounted by a +platform within which the statue was slung. The feet of the horse rested +upon ledges, so close to the ground as to preclude any possibility of +danger from a fall. As it stood thus it was visited during three weeks by +many hundreds of persons, including most of the celebrities of the day, +such as Lytton, Disraeli, and Dickens. + +Outside every day saw a vast concourse of people watching the movements of +the workmen. On the 28th September, at dusk, by means of chain windlasses, +ropes, pulleys, inclined planes, plank tramways, etc., the biggest +carriage in the world and the largest statue were moved in proximity to the +gate, in readiness for the event of the next day. + +[Illustration: _From the "Illustrated London News._" + +THE GRAND PROCESSION OF THE STATUE--TURNING FROM PARK LANE.] + +All London was agog on September 29th, 1846. As it was understood by the +public that the removal would take place as early as ten o'clock, long +before that hour the Harrow Road and the streets adjoining were thronged +with well-dressed people. Seats were erected in various places, for which +shillings and half-crowns were cheerfully paid. Even the roofs and windows +in the neighbourhood of Mr. Wyatt's foundry were crowded with anxious +spectators. The whole line of route from the Harrow Road to Piccadilly, +was, indeed, one scene of excitement, the windows being mostly filled with +company and presenting a scene of much gaiety and animation. Paddington +Green was filled, and Hyde Park was crowded towards the Drive and principal +walk. + +The procession included a large number of troops--Life Guards, Fusiliers, +Grenadiers, Coldstreams, together with no fewer than four bands. In brief, +the worshippers of the Duke omitted nothing to make the occasion a triumph. +Besides, the weather was superb. + +[Illustration: "PUNCH'S" SKIT ON THE PROCESSION. + +_Reproduced by permission of the Proprietors of "Punch."_] + +The miserable pageant prophesied by _Punch_ in Leech's amusing drawing was +nothing like the reality. Leech afterwards drew a mirth-provoking picture +of the effect of the statue's passing down Edgware Road upon a gentleman +shaving in the seclusion of an upper window, which we here reproduce. + +[Illustration: AWFUL APPARITION TO A GENTLEMAN, WHILST SHAVING, IN THE +EDGWARE ROAD--ANOTHER "PUNCH" JOKE ON THE PROCESSION. + +_Reproduced by permission of the Proprietors of "Punch."_] + +Arrived at the arch, where Royal Princes, dukes, earls, and innumerable +peeresses were assembled, it was found too late that day to hoist the +mighty bronze to its resting-place. In fact, the ceremony took three days +before it was concluded. + +While all this was happening, on the first and last days the happy +sculptor, Wyatt, was holding high revel at his studio, his friends +partaking of a banquet at his expense. + +Nobody dreamed of trouble. "Once up--the statue is safe," was the +watchword. But the Royal Academy and the Office of Woods and Forests had +resolved that the fate of this huge "solecism" was sealed. It had taken six +years to set up; it should come down in three weeks! By October 1st, 1846, +the sixty tons had been hoisted to the top of the one hundred and fifteen +foot scaffold and placed in position by the sculptor himself. A few days +later the fatal message arrived: "The Government decides that your statue +must come down within three weeks." No wonder the sculptor and his friends +were panic-stricken. How were they to be saved? There was only one way--by +intercession to the Duke to save his bronze counterfeit. + +[Illustration: HOISTING THE STATUE TO THE TOP OF THE ARCH. + +_From the "Illustrated London News."_] + +We have not space to tell the full story; the Iron Duke spake the word and +the Government dared not deny him his request. + +For nearly thirty-seven years the great statue remained on the summit of +the triumphal arch opposite Apsley House. But never during a moment of that +time was it unassailed by hostile criticism. Foreigners were said to point +at it with scorn. Albert Smith declared that saturnine men came to laugh at +it "who had never laughed before." But it was not so much that it was a +badly-modelled statue as that it had given rise to prejudices and +antagonisms which long survived both Duke and sculptor. So it happened that +in 1883, when alterations were projected in the locality, the Duke at last +was made to descend from his eminence. It was a tremendous piece of +work--both the Duke and Copenhagen had to be decapitated and otherwise +mutilated--but the gradual descent was accomplished, witnessed by vast +multitudes. Wyatt's enemies had triumphed. + +The question arose as to where the statue should be placed. "In the +furnace," said many zealous brother sculptors. Ruskin boldly counselled its +destruction. But it was decided that a good place for it would be in St. +James's Park, opposite the Horse Guards' Parade. The removal thither to +this obscure spot was accordingly begun. But the old antagonism apparently +revived. The Horse Guards complained; the Duke of Cambridge thought it an +eyesore. Lord Randolph Churchill, whose way between Westminster and St. +James's led through the park, said he was "driven to frequent Whitehall," +and predicted that the big bronze Duke would bring about the fall of the +Government. Sir Frederick Leighton, P.R.A., and Lord Hardinge defended the +new position, but the former was asked: "How would you like sixty tons of +bad bronze opposite the Royal Academy?" + +This time the old Duke of Wellington--thirty years in his grave--could give +no sign. Rider and man waited immobile for further orders. +"Forward--march!" finally, in 1885, came the command from head-quarters, +and slowly, with difficulty, and with Copenhagen with his legs in the air, +the new journey of forty miles began. + +Such is the story of a statue. Where will it end? Two or three years ago a +distinguished general, whose wife is also a distinguished painter of +soldiers and horses, remarked cruelly that "Aldershot would be delightful +if it wasn't for that--ogre." + +And as he spoke, from force of habit he grimly raised two fingers to his +temple, saluting the insulted Field-Marshal whose mighty shadow now darkens +Cæsar's Plain. + +Where will it end? + +[Illustration: THE STATUE IN THE POSITION WHICH RAISED SUCH A STORM OF +OPPOSITION. + +_From the "Illustrated London News."_] + + + + +_Two and a Tiger._ + +BY R. E. VERNÈDE. + + +Nare had enjoyed himself at the picnic until the baronet arrived, in spite +of being rather an outsider among these local people, who all knew one +another from the cradle. He had enjoyed himself in spite, too, of Mrs. +Corcoran, who by many signs and cool politenesses had shown him that her +daughter Judith had no need and--as she hinted very plainly--no inclination +for his attentions. "Dear Sir Henry will be arriving soon, surely?" Mrs. +Corcoran had said in his presence to their hostess, and little Mrs. +Harrington, who had been very kind to Nare in that capacity, replied that +of course Sir Henry would be arriving soon, but that in the meantime the +rector (a mild man with a capacity for being held in awe) was very anxious +to consult Mrs. Corcoran on the subject of an altar-cloth. Mrs. Corcoran +was unable to resist the invitation. Whether the rector was as grateful for +Sir Henry Pove's arrival as Nare was ungrateful, nobody can say, but there +is no denying that the rector looked a little browbeaten by that time. + +The baronet came on a tricycle, looking reedy in his light suit, but very +dignified. + +"I have accomplished the distance from Wetherwell in one hour and a +quarter," he announced, "which I think is very fair--very fair." + +"Wonderful," said Mrs. Corcoran, frowning at her silent daughter. + +"Incredible," Nare suggested. "It must be eight miles." + +"I thought it incumbent upon me to ride pretty fast," continued Sir Henry, +"because a rather alarming thing has occurred." + +A chorus of "Ohs!" wavered about the gratified tricyclist. + +[Illustration: "A RATHER ALARMING THING HAS OCCURRED."] + +"What is it?" asked Mrs. Corcoran. + +"No, don't tell!" cried Mrs. Harrington; "not if it's horrid. I won't have +my picnic spoilt. Be a gem, now!" + +"But, my dear madam"--Sir Henry's look was a rebuke to all trifling--"I +dare not take it upon myself to leave you all in suspense about a matter +which cannot in any event be lightly treated. When I say that a travelling +menagerie at Sutley has lost one of its wild beasts early this morning, and +that up to the time I started from Wetherwell no news of its recapture had +come to hand----" + +He paused for an effect, and several ladies said: "Good heavens!" Mrs. +Corcoran added:-- + +"And you rode over the moor alone?" + +A pleased smile was her reward. + +"I could do no less--yes--some say a puma; others a bear." Sir Henry +rapidly answered a string of questions. + +"Perhaps it was a llama," suggested Miss Corcoran. + +"Judith!" + +"They're very dangerous, mother." + +"But in any case I'm very much annoyed," Mrs. Harrington announced. "Now +everybody will want to go home, I suppose, though really Sutley is fourteen +miles away, and--well, at any rate, we've all had something to eat. Sir +Henry, come and be rewarded with lobster before we start." + +I think it must have been because Mrs. Harrington thought she owed her +annoyance as much to the baronet's alarmist importunity as to the +carelessness of the menagerie owners that she dealt so kindly with Nare +afterwards. For it was settled that the picnickers should disband almost +immediately instead of going home by moonlight--as Mrs. Harrington had +desired--and in the bustle that ensued, while the rector was heading a +search-party, organized by Mrs. Corcoran, to recover a shawl she was +positive she had brought with her, and the baronet was being regaled on all +the choicest delicacies that could be set out on cabbage-leaves by the more +insatiably curious ladies, Mrs. Harrington drew Nare and Miss Corcoran +aside. + +"Now, Judith," she said, "we shall all be starting soon, but I want you to +be kind and show Mr. Nare the Mill on the way back." + +"Oh, but----" Judith began. + +"We shall catch you up in quite a short time, and Mr. Nare will protect you +against the----" + +"Llama," said Nare. + +"Elephant or whatever it is," said Mrs. Harrington, smiling. "I'm quite +sure he will. And you'll be doing me a favour. I've promised Mr. Nare +should see the Mill, and I'll explain to your mother." + +"Very well," said Judith. "Perhaps we ought to start at once, then?" + +"Yes," said Mrs. Harrington. + +That is why, when, some time later, Sir Henry having replenished himself +and found all preparations made for going homeward, and having begun to +wonder where Miss Corcoran, whom he had hoped to escort, had vanished to, +Nare found himself on the moor with that young lady just drawing near to +the Mill, the sight of which he had been promised. It was just after +sundown then, pleasantly cool and hazy, with nothing but a noise of stray +bees to disturb the silence. Miss Corcoran had had her parasol furled for +several minutes, so that Nare, who was slightly behind with the picnic +basket which Mrs. Harrington had thrust upon him "in case Judith should +want a sandwich on the way, Mr. Nare"--commanded an uninterrupted and +delightful view of the curls on her neck. + +"Perfect," he said, and she, fancying he referred to the weather, perhaps, +agreed. + +[Illustration: "'I DON'T THINK YOU'RE WALKING VERY FAST, MR. NARE,' SHE +SAID."] + +"But I don't think you're walking very fast, Mr. Nare," she said, severely. +"And when I promised Mrs. Harrington to show you the Mill, I did think +you'd walk a little quicker, even though you are a Londoner." + +"Don't be unkind," said Nare. "Recollect that your foot is on your native +heath, while mine----" + +"But we shall miss the others." + +"We started first." + +"Not more than half an hour, and we've come right off the road on to the +moor and----" + +"But it's such a jolly afternoon." + +"Evening." + +"And it would be a sin to stampede over these attractive buttercups," Nare +pleaded. + +Miss Corcoran relented with a little laugh. + +"Really, you are Cockneyer than I thought. Buttercups! It's gorse." + +"Same kind of yellow," said Nare. + +"And there's the Mill. Now we must hurry." + +Woman, it has been said, disposes, but that depends on circumstances. Nare +had no desire to hurry, but hurried he certainly would have been if it were +not for the episode that occurred at that moment. Afterwards he was +grateful for it, but for the time being he would even have preferred +hurrying. For, just as he was taking a last look at the Mill, something +shadowy, but alive, came stalking slowly away from it towards them. + +Involuntarily Nare whistled. In the hazy twilight it was not easy to +distinguish shapes exactly, and the desolate moorland with the black bare +Mill frowning in its midst, only a single skeleton sail left to show for +what purpose it had been built centuries ago, and the utter silence, except +for the homing bees, no doubt tended to ghostly thoughts. But either Nare +was dreaming or---- + +"Whatever is that?" cried Miss Corcoran, suddenly catching sight of it. She +put a startled hand on his arm, and Nare regained his cheerfulness. + +"This Cockney suggests that it's a cow--a stray cow." + +"But----" + +"Probably an Alderney," Nare pursued, "with pink eyes and----" + +The creature was making towards them on the circumference of a circle, and +as Nare talked he walked slowly towards the Mill. There must be some kind +of shelter there. + +"And crumpled horns," Nare continued. + +"But this isn't our way, Mr. Nare." + +The girl spoke in a protesting tone, but without giving any sign of a +desire to stop. Indeed, she went rather faster and did not look behind her. +The Alderney was a little behind them now. + +"Don't you think we ought to----" + +"G-r-r-r-r!" A noise, thunderous and snarling, interrupted her in the +middle of a sentence. Nare was looking back. + +"How horrible!" + +"Perhaps it wants to be milked"--Nare spoke without turning his head--"or +it's hungry. I think you'd better go into the Mill, please." + +"You'll come?" + +"Yes." + +[Illustration: "MISS CORCORAN GATHERED UP HER SKIRTS AND RAN."] + +And with that Miss Corcoran gathered up her skirts and ran. Nare followed +with one eye on the enemy in the rear. The beast had stopped in its +circling and was glaring after them. + +"As fast as you can!" + +The girl heard Nare talking to her, and felt in a dream. A second growl +rose and seemed to shake the rotten timbers of the Mill as she ran into it. + +"Up the ladder!" + +There was a nine-foot ladder, shaky, with rat-gnawed rungs, leading through +a trap on to the first floor of the Mill from the ground. And Miss Corcoran +went up it swiftly, with gratitude in her heart to the rats for not having +gnawed it through, since there was no door to the Mill wherewith to bolt +out undesirable company. The Mill seemed to be echoing still with that +growl as she turned at the top and, kneeling, found Nare ascending after +her through the narrow hole. She said nothing until he had got up and tried +to unfix the ladder without success. Then, as he desisted:-- + +"Mr. Nare," she said, "was it a--a--tiger?" + +Nare put down his picnic basket with an injured air. + +"If it wasn't," he said, "I don't know what it was. But I'm beginning to +think you're right, and that I don't know the country. I certainly thought +tigers were extinct. If they're not, I don't think it's fair to ask an +unfortunate Londoner out into the wilds and arm him with nothing better +than a picnic basket." + +He rattled on to give the girl time to recover herself. He was a little +afraid of hysterics, which would have been pardonable but unavailing. She +seemed to suspect his fear, for she mustered a smile and said:-- + +"I don't think I'm going to be foolish. Tell me, please, what do you think +we ought to do?" + +That was exactly what Nare did not know. Looking down through the trap, he +was conscious of a pair of fierce yellow eyes glaring up at him. + +"A good deal depends on the tiger," he said. "As this is one from a +menagerie it may know how to behave itself in company, but--isn't there a +top floor to this Mill?" + +There was, and another ladder leading to it. And Miss Corcoran, followed by +Nare, reached it in less time than it takes to tell. The tiger had reared +its paws on to the lower ladder and delivered itself, of another terrific +growl. + +"I--I didn't know they could climb," said Miss Corcoran, faintly. "Oh!" + +A scuffling noise accompanied by a groaning of wood was what they heard, +and then a soft padding of feet in the room they had just deserted. +Apparently this tiger could climb. + +"The deuce!" said Nare, beneath his breath. He had never in his life been +in a more unpleasant situation--never, indeed, in anything like it. At +first the thing had seemed like some burlesque nightmare, but now the +burlesque was going out of it. What could one do to a tiger? + +He sat cross-legged over the trap, reflecting and listening to the pad, pad +below. If only there were a cover to the trap, but there was none. His +companion was looking out of a sort of small slit in the side of the Mill +that had been made to serve the purpose of a window once, hiding her tears, +Nare fancied. It was too narrow to get through, and in any case there would +be a drop of twenty or thirty feet. Half unconsciously Nare began to unpack +the picnic basket which he had carried along from room to room. He had some +vague idea of throwing the tiger sandwiches as a sop. "Buns, cucumber +sandwiches, a packet of salt. Do you see anything, Sister Anne?" He broke +off enumerating the contents of the basket, seeing that Miss Corcoran had +started. + +"I--no----" + +"A chocolate cake--tea--pepper--pepper----" + +"Yes, I do," Miss Corcoran suddenly burst out. "There's someone +coming--this way. He's--he's on a--it's Sir Henry." + +In spite of the presence of the tiger and the diversion likely to be caused +by the arrival of the baronet, Nare felt a trifle jealous. If the diversion +were caused it would be to the baronet's credit, that was certain, and he +sat over the trap, aimlessly untying the packet marked pepper, while he +listened to the parley that Miss Corcoran began from the slit in the Mill +wall. + +A bicycle bell rung in a dignified manner announced the baronet's approach. + +"Sir Henry!" + +Nare could hear the brake applied before the baronet's thin, piping voice +called back:-- + +"Who is there?" + +"It's I--Judith Corcoran--and Mr. Nare. We're in the Mill--and----" + +"Indeed!" + +Suspicion was plain in the baronet's "Indeed!" Nare lost the next few words +in trying to catch a sound of the padding feet below. + +"And the animal that escaped that you told us of--is here--it's a tiger!" + +An unpleasant, high-pitched laugh greeted Miss Corcoran's explanation--a +laugh that showed Sir Henry in about as incredulous a frame of mind as a +jealous man might be. + +"Ah!" he sniggered. "What charming company! Two--and a tiger!" + +"G-r-r-r-r!" + +Nare had just risen in a fury of indignation to throw something--anything +that could be got through the window--at the baronet's head, when that +tremendous growl came, followed by the creaking and groaning of wood. The +tiger was ascending to their last retreat. In a whirling fashion Nare was +conscious of this, and of Miss Corcoran's pale face, as he stood once more +over the trap. From outside came a sound of frantic pedalling, as though +Sir Henry had forgotten his scepticism and was wheeling round in order to +be off. Otherwise the stillness was intolerable; and in the middle of it +Nare, his fingers tearing idly at the white-papered packet in his hands, +suddenly found himself looking into those great yellow eyes, not three feet +away. And at that, his fingers relaxing, the packet and its contents fell +plump into the tiger's face. + +[Illustration: "NARE SUDDENLY FOUND HIMSELF LOOKING INTO THOSE GREAT YELLOW +EYES."] + +"By Jove!" + +A swishing, sneezing noise, as of a score of cats under a hose, a heavy +thud, a downward galloping, pad and patter, and the tiger was gone. It had +found an ounce of pepper in its eyes and nostrils as unpleasant as it was +unexpected. + +"Pepper's the thing," said Nare, devoutly, discovering a moment later that +he was supporting Miss Corcoran in his arms. + +"Yes," said Judith, faintly; "I'm so glad----" + +Of what she did not say, but irrelevancy did not seem to matter. + +"Look!" cried Nare. + +Through the uncasemented window they could see in the fast-gathering dusk +the long white path over the moor. It looked even whiter for the shadows +all about, so that, visible at a distance of some quarter of a mile, was +the bent figure of a tricyclist, all among the wheels, pedalling away for +dear life. After him, and as if in pursuit, cantered a shadowy, four-legged +thing, that tossed its head uneasily as it went and seemed to have no tail. + +"Tail's between its legs," said Nare. "So's Sir Henry's." + +"I hope it won't catch him," said Miss Judith, kindly, but without the +intonation of extreme solicitude. After all, Sir Henry had a good start. +"He is going fast," she added, critically, as he vanished over a distant +ridge. "There goes the tiger." + +"We may as well be off too," said Nare, "before it comes back. Sir Henry by +himself won't make much of a meal. Awfully jolly walk it's been." + +They went on, not too fast, in the opposite direction from that taken by +the tiger. + + + + +_The Best Comic Pictures._ + +THE OPINION OF HUMOROUS ARTISTS. + + +Humour is such an elusive quality, depending so much upon individual +temperament, that it is difficult to say in what consists its absolute +perfection. We know what makes us laugh most; but do we know what will make +another laugh most? Yet after all this is true of every art. Why should we +not have _chefs d'oevure_ of pictorial comedy? + +Suppose any reader of THE STRAND MAGAZINE with a normal sense of humour +were asked, "What is the funniest picture you remember ever to have seen?" +Would he not ransack his memory--would he not turn to the files of _Punch_, +to the comic almanacs, to such examples of foreign pictorial humour as had +chanced to come in his way--and end by declaring that it was impossible to +make any selection at all in such a wilderness of mirth-provoking designs, +or, having hit upon one, to find it, upon re-inspection, to be no longer as +funny as he thought it at the time--years ago? + +But in quite a different case is another small class in the community. +These are the authors and manufacturers of humorous pictures themselves. +They, not only from having a special gift of comedy, but from having +presumably studied, or been interested in, the work of other draughtsmen, +might confidently be expected to know their own minds. And so to them the +writer addressed the question, What was the funniest picture they had ever +seen? What had a right to be considered a masterpiece of pictorial comedy? + +At the outset the writer must not forget to mention that a few years ago, +in a confidential chat he had with the late Mr. Phil May, he was +pleasurably surprised to learn the high esteem in which that gifted +humorist held one of the earliest and greatest masters of pictorial comedy, +James Gillray. + +[Illustration: "COMPANY SHOCKED AT A LADY GETTING UP TO RING THE BELL."--BY +GILLRAY. + +SELECTED BY THE LATE MR. PHIL MAY AS THE BEST COMIC PICTURE]. + +"There is nobody to-day to touch him," were May's words. "Look at his sweep +of line and his astonishing mastery over the grotesque and ridiculous. +There are pictures so extraordinarily funny that you can't laugh--'too +funny for words,' if you catch what I mean." As he spoke he turned to a +folio containing several specimens of Gillray's drawings. One in particular +was, if too funny for words, not too funny to be laughed at, for May's +smile broadened enormously as he held it up for inspection--"Company +Shocked at a Lady Getting Up to Ring the Bell." "Now, I call that funny," +he said, "and it was, perhaps, a hundred times funnier a hundred years ago, +when the characters were well-known people. There's nothing 'dates' so much +as the average comic picture, especially a social caricature, but the fun +of this is pretty fresh still." On the whole, most of Gillray's and +Rowlandson's best work is a little too highly flavoured--too broad--for the +taste of to-day. + +Passing along a half-century we come to John Leech, and thenceforward to a +succession of great masters of pictorial fun--Wilhelm Büsch, Charles Keene, +Du Maurier, Sambourne, Oberlander, Caran d'Ache, Phil May, Frederick Opper, +Zimmerman, and Raven-Hill. To these names many--fully as +distinguished--might be added, such as Forain, Gibson, and Graetz, but for +pure fun those we have mentioned may be called the masters. Amongst their +numerous productions ought to be found some sketch which deserves to be +called the very funniest picture or set of pictures delineating a single +humorous idea. Each artist has his own followers. We have seen Phil May +singling out a drawing by Gillray as appealing to his sense of humour. The +draughtsmen of to-day in this line of work in England doubtless count no +cleverer men than Raven-Hill, Tom Browne, John Hassall, Leslie Willson, +William Parkinson, Louis Wain, and Charles Harrison. + +Wilhelm Büsch was for years the chief comic draughtsman of the celebrated +_Fliegende Blätter_--the German _Punch_. Not all his best work, however, +was done for this paper, as Büsch illustrated and occasionally wrote +numerous humorous brochures, which enjoyed a wide sale, and in his own +opinion--according to one of his intimate friends whom we have +consulted--he never achieved anything funnier than the pictures which +accompanied a little book called "The Fools' Paradise," and the funniest +drawings in that book are those which appear on this page. + +[Illustration: "A PIANOFORTE PERFORMANCE."--BY WILHELM BÜSCH. + +SELECTED BY MR. LINLEY SAMBOURNE.] + +But now let us hear what Mr. Linley Sambourne has to say about the work of +this artist:-- + +"To attempt to even indicate the birthplace of the world's masterpiece of +pictorial humour is beyond the capacity of a single individual. So very few +can see humour with the same eyes or appreciation. What you seek has +probably perished in past ages, together with its contemporaneous +companions in a higher branch. To me, personally, some of the designs of +the late Wilhelm Büsch, of Munich, seem to have more humour, if by that is +meant fun, than anything I can remember having seen." + +[Illustration: UNDER HER BREATH.--MRS. CONLAN: "Whisht, Pat!" + +Pat: "Whisht, Dalia!" + +Mrs. Conlan: "Aise yure face. It's an upright we're havin' took." + +FROM THE NEW YORK "JUDGE." + +SELECTED BY MR. RAVEN-HILL.] + +Mr. Sambourne's clever colleague, Mr. Leonard Raven-Hill, finds "the very +funniest picture" amongst the work of the American artist, Zimmerman. + +"For absolute comic humour," he writes, "no one has equalled Zimmerman, of +the New York _Judge_, in my opinion. Charles Keene is, of course, miles +ahead of any other man in quiet humour; but I can't think of any particular +examples." + +Of Zimmerman's drawings Mr. Raven-Hill selects three, of which we herewith +present what strikes us as the most comical. + +[Illustration: WIFE (to lion-tamer, who has been out late): "You coward!" + +FROM "PHIL MAY'S ANNUAL." + +SELECTED BY MR. TOM BROWNE.] + +Few comic artists are at once so prolific and so amusing as Mr. Tom Browne, +who, in selecting the picture reproduced below, writes to us as follows:-- + +"I have no hesitation in ascribing to the late Phil May some of the most +delightful specimens of illustrated humour that have ever graced the +British or any other Press; but to positively indicate what I consider to +be that master's choicest joke or drawing is a difficult matter. Phil May +had a very keen sense of humour; moreover, he was a master of line. He knew +what a line would do better than any man ever did before him. He could +seize on the essentials of a subject and adequately represent it in the +fewest lines anyone had ever employed before. Yet nothing was lacking. And +the lines and the forms they represented were always accurate. There was a +lot of humour in the sketch of the lion-tamer which appeared in one of the +winter annuals. The tamer of lions had been staying out late, and to avoid +the furious attentions of his wrathful spouse had taken refuge in the +lions' den. The aforesaid wrathful spouse was shaking her fist in front of +the bars and crying out, 'You coward!' + +[Illustration: "A HAIR-RAISING STORY."--BY CARAN D'ACHE. + +FROM THE CARAN D'ACHE ALBUM, BY PERMISSION OF MM. PLON NOURRIT & CO. + +SELECTED BY MR. LESLIE WILLSON.] + +"Quite a little masterpiece in its way was the sketch of the very tipsy +newsman, who had the contents-bill of the special edition he was selling +stuck on a sandwich board that covered his chest. In large letters on the +contents-bill was printed, 'Result of the Cup.' + +"And there are others, scores of them, all good because they were Phil +May's. In cold type they sound nothing. Phil May's pen made masterpieces of +them all." + +An English black-and-white draughtsman, with an almost unique experience of +pictorial comedy in Germany, America, and this country, is Mr. Leslie +Willson, for years one of the chief artists of the New York _Judge_, and +latterly art editor of _Pick-Me-Up_. Mr. Willson, with his wide experience +of comic achievements, says:-- + +"The very funniest pictures I ever saw were by that astonishingly clever +Franco-Russian, Emmanuel Poiré, otherwise 'Caran d'Ache.' The particular +set I have in mind depicted a scene in a barber's shop, where the +customer's hair, standing on end from horror, defies all the barber's +attempts to curl it. There are other funny things from Caran d'Ache's +pencil, but this, I think, is the funniest." These are the drawings +reproduced on the opposite page. + +[Illustration: PARROT: "Here he comes again. If he pulls another feather +out I'll fly away!" + +BY H. GRATTAN IN THE "PELICAN." + +SELECTED BY MR. JOHN HASSALL.] + +Mr. John Hassall, whose work is familiar to all, writes to say:-- + +"The most humorous drawing I have ever seen was in the Christmas number of +the _Pelican_, some few years back, of a parrot with one feather sticking +out of its tail--the rest bare--sitting on its perch, and a pot-boy in the +background. Below was the inscription: 'Here he comes again. If he pulls +another feather out I'll fly away!' It was by an actor, I fancy. For the +most humorous artist I should plump for Zim. Zimmerman, who draws for New +York _Judge_. About ten years ago his work was, to my mind, always +exceedingly humorous." + +[Illustration: "AN INCIDENT IN THE MIDDLE AGES."--BY LINLEY SAMBOURNE IN +"PUNCH." + +SELECTED BY MR. WILLIAM PARKINSON.] + +A draughtsman with a keen sense of humour is Mr. William Parkinson. He +writes:-- + +"For real funniness, I think A. B. Frost, the American, is very hard to +beat; especially in some of his picture-stories in the last pages of +_Scribner_ or the _Century_. I should call his book of drawings, 'The +Good-Natured Man and the Bull Calf,' a masterpiece of humour. Linley +Sambourne also is a master and an artist too, and some of his drawings for +_Punch's_ Almanacks are real masterpieces. 'An Incident in the Middle +Ages,' where a poor knight in armour is tormented under his mail shirt by a +persistent----Well, the fancy is tickled as much as was the poor knight." + +[Illustration: An ensign who thought he would wake up another ensign for a +lark--But he mistook the tent. + +FROM THE "GRAPHIC."--BY A. C. CORBOULD. + +SELECTED BY MR. LOUIS WAIN.] + +There are not many pictorial comedians with a larger following than Mr. +Louis Wain, who tells us:-- + +"I like one of Corbould's drawings best which appeared in the _Graphic_ of +some eighteen years back. A subaltern with a broom over his head was +hitting out at a military tent with it where there appeared to be a +protuberance. A second picture showed a fat general sitting up in bed +rubbing his head and looking furiously mad. (He had had the broom on it.) +This drawing has kept me happy through many a gloomy period, and set my own +work going again." + +[Illustration: THE MOUSTACHE MOVEMENT.--OLD MR. WHAT'S-HIS-NAME: "Egad, I +don't wonder at moustaches coming into fashion; for--eh? What? By Jove, it +does improve one's appearance." + +BY JOHN LEECH IN "PUNCH'S ALMANACK," 1857. + +SELECTED BY MR. CHARLES HARRISON.] + +"With a pretty extensive knowledge of all the Continental and American +artists," writes Mr. Charles Harrison, one of the regular contributors to +_Punch_, "I think I have derived more amusement from John Leech than anyone +else. In certain things he is, and so will ever remain, absolutely +unapproachable, and I enclose what I consider one of his funniest efforts. +At least, there is no effort in it, which is one of the charms in all +Leech's work." + + + + +_The Country of the Blind._ + +BY H. G. WELLS. + + +Three hundred miles and more from Chimborazo, one hundred from the snows of +Cotopaxi, in the wildest wastes of Ecuador's Andes, there lies that +mysterious mountain valley, cut off from all the world of men, the Country +of the Blind. Long years ago that valley lay so far open to the world that +men might come at last through frightful gorges and over an icy pass into +its equable meadows, and thither indeed men came, a family or so of +Peruvian half-breeds fleeing from the lust and tyranny of an evil Spanish +ruler. Then came the stupendous outbreak of Mindobamba, when it was night +in Quito for seventeen days, and the water was boiling at Yaguachi and all +the fish floating dying even as far as Guayaquil; everywhere along the +Pacific slopes there were landslips and swift thawings and sudden floods, +and one whole side of the old Arauca crest slipped and came down in +thunder, and cut off the Country of the Blind for ever from the exploring +feet of men. But one of these early settlers had chanced to be on the +hither side of the gorges when the world had so terribly shaken itself, and +he perforce had to forget his wife and his child and all the friends and +possessions he had left up there, and start life over again in the lower +world. He started it again but ill, blindness overtook him, and he died of +punishment in the mines; but the story he told begot a legend that lingers +along the length of the Cordilleras of the Andes to this day. + +He told of his reason for venturing back from that fastness, into which he +had first been carried lashed to a llama, beside a vast bale of gear, when +he was a child. The valley, he said, had in it all that the heart of man +could desire--sweet water, pasture, an even climate, slopes of rich brown +soil with tangles of a shrub that bore an excellent fruit, and on one side +great hanging forests of pine that held the avalanches high. Far overhead, +on three sides, vast cliffs of grey-green rock were capped by cliffs of +ice; but the glacier stream came not to them, but flowed away by the +farther slopes, and only now and then huge ice masses fell on the valley +side. In this valley it neither rained nor snowed, but the abundant springs +gave a rich green pasture, that irrigation would spread over all the valley +space. The settlers did well indeed there. Their beasts did well and +multiplied, and but one thing marred their happiness. Yet it was enough to +mar it greatly. A strange disease had come upon them and had made all the +children born to them there--and, indeed, several older children +also--blind. It was to seek some charm or antidote against this plague of +blindness that he had with fatigue and danger and difficulty returned down +the gorge. In those days, in such cases, men did not think of germs and +infections, but of sins, and it seemed to him that the reason of this +affliction must lie in the negligence of these priestless immigrants to set +up a shrine so soon as they entered the valley. He wanted a shrine--a +handsome, cheap, effectual shrine--to be erected in the valley; he wanted +relics and such-like potent things of faith, blessed objects and mysterious +medals and prayers. In his wallet he had a bar of native silver for which +he would not account; he insisted there was none in the valley with +something of the insistence of an inexpert liar. They had all clubbed their +money and ornaments together, having little need for such treasure up +there, he said, to buy them holy help against their ill. I figure this +dim-eyed young mountaineer, sunburnt, gaunt, and anxious, hat brim clutched +feverishly, a man all unused to the ways of the lower world, telling this +story to some keen-eyed, attentive priest before the great convulsion; I +can picture him presently seeking to return with pious and infallible +remedies against that trouble, and the infinite dismay with which he must +have faced the tumbled vastness where the gorge had once come out. But the +rest of his story of mischances is lost to me, save that I know of his evil +death after several years. Poor stray from that remoteness! The stream that +had once made the gorge now bursts from the mouth of a rocky cave, and the +legend his poor, ill-told story set going developed into the legend of a +race of blind men somewhere "over there" one may still hear to-day. + +And amidst the little population of that now isolated and forgotten valley +the disease ran its course. The old became groping and purblind, the young +saw but dimly, and the children that were born to them saw never at all. +But life was very easy in that snow-rimmed basin, lost to all the world, +with neither thorns nor briers, with no evil insects nor any beasts save +the gentle breed of llamas they had lugged and thrust and followed up the +beds of the shrunken rivers in the gorges up which they had come. The +seeing had become purblind so gradually that they scarcely noted their +loss. They guided the sightless youngsters hither and thither until they +knew the whole valley marvellously, and when at last sight died out among +them the race lived on. They had even time to adapt themselves to the blind +control of fire, which they made carefully in stoves of stone. They were a +simple strain of people at the first, unlettered, only slightly touched +with the Spanish civilization, but with something of a tradition of the +arts of old Peru and of its lost philosophy. Generation followed +generation. They forgot many things; they devised many things. Their +tradition of the greater world they came from became mythical in colour and +uncertain. In all things save sight they were strong and able, and +presently chance sent one who had an original mind and who could talk and +persuade among them, and then afterwards another. These two passed, leaving +their effects, and the little community grew in numbers and in +understanding, and met and settled social and economic problems that arose. +Generation followed generation. Generation followed generation. There came +a time when a child was born who was fifteen generations from that ancestor +who went out of the valley with a bar of silver to seek God's aid, and who +never returned. Thereabout it chanced that a man came into this community +from the outer world. And this is the story of that man. + +He was a mountaineer from the country near Quito, a man who had been down +to the sea and had seen the world, a reader of books in an original way, an +acute and enterprising man, and he was taken on by a party of Englishmen +who had come out to Ecuador to climb mountains, to replace one of their +three Swiss guides who had fallen ill. He climbed here and he climbed +there, and then came the attempt on Parascotopetl, the Matterhorn of the +Andes, in which he was lost to the outer world. The story of that accident +has been written a dozen times. Pointer's narrative is the best. He tells +how the little party worked their difficult and almost vertical way up to +the very foot of the last and greatest precipice, and how they built a +night shelter amidst the snow upon a little shelf of rock, and, with a +touch of real dramatic power, how presently they found Nuñez had gone from +them. They shouted, and there was no reply; shouted and whistled, and for +the rest of that night they slept no more. + +[Illustration: "THEY FOUND NUÑEZ HAD GONE FROM THEM."] + +As the morning broke they saw the traces of his fall. It seems impossible +he could have uttered a sound. He had slipped eastward towards the unknown +side of the mountain; far below he had struck a steep slope of snow, and +ploughed his way down it in the midst of a snow avalanche. His track went +straight to the edge of a frightful precipice, and beyond that everything +was hidden. Far, far below, and hazy with distance, they could see trees +rising out of a narrow, shut-in valley--the lost Country of the Blind. But +they did not know it was the lost Country of the Blind, nor distinguish it +in any way from any other narrow streak of upland valley. Unnerved by this +disaster, they abandoned their attempt in the afternoon, and Pointer was +called away to the war before he could make another attack. To this day +Parascotopetl lifts an unconquered crest, and Pointer's shelter crumbles +unvisited amidst the snows. + +And the man who fell survived. + +At the end of the slope he fell a thousand feet, and came down in the midst +of a cloud of snow upon a snow-slope even steeper than the one above. Down +this he was whirled, stunned and insensible, but without a bone broken in +his body; and then at last came to gentler slopes, and at last rolled out +and lay still, buried amidst a softening heap of the white masses that had +accompanied and saved him. He came to himself with a dim fancy that he was +ill in bed; then realized his position with a mountaineer's intelligence +and worked himself loose and, after a rest or so, out until he saw the +stars. He rested flat upon his chest for a space, wondering where he was +and what had happened to him. He explored his limbs, and discovered that +several of his buttons were gone and his coat turned over his head. His +knife had gone from his pocket and his hat was lost, though he had tied it +under his chin. He recalled that he had been looking for loose stones to +raise his piece of the shelter wall. His ice-axe had disappeared. + +He decided he must have fallen, and looked up to see, exaggerated by the +ghastly light of the rising moon, the tremendous flight he had taken. For a +while he lay, gazing blankly at that vast, pale cliff towering above, +rising moment by moment out of a subsiding tide of darkness. Its +phantasmal, mysterious beauty held him for a space, and then he was seized +with a paroxysm of sobbing laughter.... + +After a great interval of time he became aware that he was near the lower +edge of the snow. Below, down what was now a moon-lit and practicable +slope, he saw the dark and broken appearance of rock-strewn turf. He +struggled to his feet, aching in every joint and limb, got down painfully +from the heaped loose snow about him, went downward until he was on the +turf, and there dropped rather than lay beside a boulder, drank deep from +the flask in his inner pocket, and instantly fell asleep.... + +He was awakened by the singing of birds in the trees far below. + +He sat up and perceived he was on a little alp at the foot of a vast +precipice that sloped only a little in the gully down which he and his snow +had come. Over against him another wall of rock reared itself against the +sky. The gorge between these precipices ran east and west and was full of +the morning sunlight, which lit to the westward the mass of fallen mountain +that closed the descending gorge. Below him it seemed there was a precipice +equally steep, but behind the snow in the gully he found a sort of +chimney-cleft dripping with snow-water, down which a desperate man might +venture. He found it easier than it seemed, and came at last to another +desolate alp, and then after a rock climb of no particular difficulty to a +steep slope of trees. He took his bearings and turned his face up the +gorge, for he saw it opened out above upon green meadows, among which he +now glimpsed quite distinctly a cluster of stone huts of unfamiliar +fashion. At times his progress was like clambering along the face of a +wall, and after a time the rising sun ceased to strike along the gorge, the +voices of the singing birds died away, and the air grew cold and dark about +him. But the distant valley with its houses was all the brighter for that. +He came presently to talus, and among the rocks he noted--for he was an +observant man--an unfamiliar fern that seemed to clutch out of the crevices +with intense green hands. He picked a frond or so and gnawed its stalk, and +found it helpful. + +About midday he came at last out of the throat of the gorge into the plain +and the sunlight. He was stiff and weary; he sat down in the shadow of a +rock, filled up his flask with water from a spring and drank it down, and +remained for a time, resting before he went on to the houses. + +They were very strange to his eyes, and indeed the whole aspect of that +valley became, as he regarded it, queerer and more unfamiliar. The greater +part of its surface was lush green meadow, starred with many beautiful +flowers, irrigated with extraordinary care, and bearing evidence of +systematic cropping piece by piece. High up and ringing the valley about +was a wall, and what appeared to be a circumferential water channel, from +which the little trickles of water that fed the meadow plants came, and on +the higher slopes above this flocks of llamas cropped the scanty herbage. +Sheds, apparently shelters or feeding-places for the llamas, stood against +the boundary wall here and there. The irrigation streams ran together into +a main channel down the centre of the valley, and this was enclosed on +either side by a wall breast high. This gave a singularly urban quality to +this secluded place, a quality that was greatly enhanced by the fact that a +number of paths paved with black and white stones, and each with a curious +little kerb at the side, ran hither and thither in an orderly manner. The +houses of the central village were quite unlike the casual and +higgledy-piggledy agglomeration of the mountain villages he knew; they +stood in a continuous row on either side of a central street of astonishing +cleanness, here and there their parti-coloured façade was pierced by a +door, and not a solitary window broke their even frontage. They were +parti-coloured with extraordinary irregularity, smeared with a sort of +plaster that was sometimes grey, sometimes drab, sometimes slate-coloured +or dark brown; and it was the sight of this wild plastering first brought +the word "blind" into the thoughts of the explorer. "The good man who did +that," he thought, "must have been as blind as a bat." + +He descended a steep place, and so came to the wall and channel that ran +about the valley, near where the latter spouted out its surplus contents +into the deeps of the gorge in a thin and wavering thread of cascade. He +could now see a number of men and women resting on piled heaps of grass, as +if taking a siesta, in the remoter part of the meadow, and nearer the +village a number of recumbent children, and then nearer at hand three men +carrying pails on yokes along a little path that ran from the encircling +wall towards the houses. These latter were clad in garments of llama cloth +and boots and belts of leather, and they wore caps of cloth with back and +ear flaps. They followed one another in single file, walking slowly and +yawning as they walked, like men who have been up all night. There was +something so reassuringly prosperous and respectable in their bearing that +after a moment's hesitation Nuñez stood forward as conspicuously as +possible upon his rock, and gave vent to a mighty shout that echoed round +the valley. + +[Illustration: "NUÑEZ STOOD FORWARD AS CONSPICUOUSLY AS POSSIBLE UPON HIS +ROCK."] + +The three men stopped, and moved their heads as though they were looking +about them. They turned their faces this way and that, and Nuñez +gesticulated with freedom. But they did not appear to see him for all his +gestures, and after a time, directing themselves towards the mountains far +away to the right, they shouted as if in answer. Nuñez bawled again, and +then once more, and as he gestured ineffectually the word "blind" came up +to the top of his thoughts. "The fools must be blind," he said. + +When at last, after much shouting and wrath, Nuñez crossed the stream by a +little bridge, came through a gate in the wall, and approached them, he was +sure that they were blind. He was sure that this was the Country of the +Blind of which the legends told. Conviction had sprung upon him, and a +sense of great and rather enviable adventure. The three stood side by side, +not looking at him, but with their ears directed towards him, judging him +by his unfamiliar steps. They stood close together like men a little +afraid, and he could see their eyelids closed and sunken, as though the +very balls beneath had shrunk away. There was an expression near awe on +their faces. + +"A man," one said, in hardly recognisable Spanish. "A man it is--a man or a +spirit--coming down from the rocks." + +But Nuñez advanced with the confident steps of a youth who enters upon +life. All the old stories of the lost valley and the Country of the Blind +had come back to his mind, and through his thoughts ran this old proverb, +as if it were a refrain:-- + +"In the Country of the Blind the One-Eyed Man is King." + +"In the Country of the Blind the One-Eyed Man is King." + +And very civilly he gave them greeting. He talked to them and used his +eyes. + +"Where does he come from, brother Pedro?" asked one. + +"Down out of the rocks." + +"Over the mountains I come," said Nuñez, "out of the country beyond +there--where men can see. From near Bogota--where there are a hundred +thousands of people, and where the city passes out of sight." + +"Sight?" muttered Pedro. "Sight?" + +"He comes," said the second blind man, "out of the rocks." + +The cloth of their coats Nuñez saw was curiously fashioned, each with a +different sort of stitching. + +They startled him by a simultaneous movement towards him, each with a hand +outstretched. He stepped back from the advance of these spread fingers. + +"Come hither," said the third blind man, following his motion and clutching +him neatly. + +And they held Nuñez and felt him over, saying no word further until they +had done so. + +"Carefully," he cried, with a finger in his eye, and found they thought +that organ, with its fluttering lids, a queer thing in him. They went over +it again. + +"A strange creature, Correa," said the one called Pedro. "Feel the +coarseness of his hair. Like a llama's hair." + +"Rough he is as the rocks that begot him," said Correa, investigating +Nuñez's unshaven chin with a soft and slightly moist hand. "Perhaps he will +grow finer." + +Nuñez struggled a little under their examination, but they gripped him +firm. + +"Carefully," he said again. + +"He speaks," said the third man. "Certainly he is a man." + +"Ugh!" said Pedro, at the roughness of his coat. + +"And you have come into the world?" asked Pedro. + +"_Out_ of the world. Over mountains and glaciers; right over above there, +half-way to the sun. Out of the great, big world that goes down, twelve +days' journey to the sea." + +They scarcely seemed to heed him. "Our fathers have told us men may be made +by the forces of Nature," said Correa. "It is the warmth of things, and +moisture, and rottenness--rottenness." + +"Let us lead him to the elders," said Pedro. + +"Shout first," said Correa, "lest the children be afraid. This is a +marvellous occasion." + +So they shouted, and Pedro went first and took Nuñez by the hand to lead +him to the houses. + +He drew his hand away. "I can see," he said. + +"See?" said Correa. + +"Yes; see," said Nuñez, turning towards him, and stumbled against Pedro's +pail. + +"His senses are still imperfect," said the third blind man. "He stumbles, +and talks unmeaning words. Lead him by the hand." + +"As you will," said Nuñez, and was led along, laughing. + +It seemed they knew nothing of sight. + +Well, all in good time he would teach them. + +He heard people shouting, and saw a number of figures gathering together +in the middle roadway of the village. + +[Illustration: "'CAREFULLY,' HE CRIED, WITH A FINGER IN HIS EYE."] + +He found it tax his nerve and patience more than he had anticipated, that +first encounter with the population of the Country of the Blind. The place +seemed larger as he drew near to it, and the smeared plasterings queerer, +and a crowd of children and men and women (the women and girls he was +pleased to note had, some of them, quite sweet faces, for all that their +eyes were shut and sunken) came about him, holding on to him, touching him +with soft, sensitive hands, smelling at him, and listening at every word he +spoke. Some of the maidens and children, however, kept aloof as if afraid, +and indeed his voice seemed coarse and rude beside their softer notes. They +mobbed him. His three guides kept close to him with an effect of +proprietorship, and said again and again, "A wild man out of the rocks." + +"Bogota," he said. "Bogota. Over the mountain crests." + +"A wild man--using wild words," said Pedro. "Did you hear that--_Bogota_? +His mind has hardly formed yet. He has only the beginnings of speech." + +A little boy nipped his hand. "Bogota!" he said, mockingly. + +"Aye! A city to your village. I come from the great world--where men have +eyes and see." + +"His name's Bogota," they said. + +"He stumbled," said Correa--"stumbled twice as we came hither." + +"Bring him in to the elders." + +And they thrust him suddenly through a doorway into a room as black as +pitch, save at the end there faintly glowed a fire. The crowd closed in +behind him and shut out all but the faintest glimmer of day, and before he +could arrest himself he had fallen headlong over the feet of a seated man. +His arm, out-flung, struck the face of someone else as he went down; he +felt the soft impact of features and heard a cry of anger, and for a moment +he struggled against a number of hands that clutched him. It was a +one-sided fight. An inkling of the situation came to him and he lay quiet. + +"I fell down," he said; "I couldn't see in this pitchy darkness." + +There was a pause as if the unseen persons about him tried to understand +his words. Then the voice of Correa said: "He is but newly formed. He +stumbles as he walks and mingles words that mean nothing with his speech." + +Others also said things about him that he heard or understood imperfectly. + +"May I sit up?" he asked, in a pause. "I will not struggle against you +again." + +They consulted and let him rise. + +The voice of an older man began to question him, and Nuñez found himself +trying to explain the great world out of which he had fallen, and the sky +and mountains and sight and such-like marvels, to these elders who sat in +darkness in the Country of the Blind. And they would believe and understand +nothing whatever that he told them, a thing quite outside his expectation. +They would not even understand many of his words. For fourteen generations +these people had been blind and cut off from all the seeing world; the +names for all the things of sight had faded and changed; the story of the +outer world was faded and changed to a child's story; and they had ceased +to concern themselves with anything beyond the rocky slopes above their +circling wall. Blind men of genius had arisen among them and questioned the +shreds of belief and tradition they had brought with them from their seeing +days, and had dismissed all these things as idle fancies and replaced them +with new and saner explanations. Much of their imagination had shrivelled +with their eyes, and they had made for themselves new imaginations with +their ever more sensitive ears and fingertips. Slowly Nuñez realized this: +that his expectation of wonder and reverence at his origin and his gifts +was not to be borne out; and after his poor attempt to explain sight to +them had been set aside as the confused version of a new-made being +describing the marvels of his incoherent sensations, he subsided, a little +dashed, into listening to their instruction. And the eldest of the blind +men explained to him life and philosophy and religion, how that the world +(meaning their valley) had been first an empty hollow in the rocks, and +then had come first inanimate things without the gift of touch, and llamas +and a few other creatures that had little sense, and then men, and at last +angels, whom one could hear singing and making fluttering sounds, but whom +no one could touch at all, which puzzled Nuñez greatly until he thought of +the birds. + +He went on to tell Nuñez how this time had been divided into the warm and +the cold, which are the blind equivalents of day and night, and how it was +good to sleep in the warm and work during the cold, so that now, but for +his advent, the whole town of the blind would have been asleep. He said +Nuñez must have been specially created to learn and serve the wisdom they +had acquired, and that for all his mental incoherency and stumbling +behaviour he must have courage and do his best to learn, and at that all +the people in the doorway murmured encouragingly. He said the night--for +the blind call their day night--was now far gone, and it behoved everyone +to go back to sleep. He asked Nuñez if he knew how to sleep, and Nuñez said +he did, but that before sleep he wanted food. They brought him food, +llama's milk in a bowl and rough salted bread, and led him into a lonely +place to eat out of their hearing, and afterwards to slumber until the +chill of the mountain evening roused them to begin their day again. But +Nuñez slumbered not at all. + +Instead, he sat up in the place where they had left him, resting his limbs +and turning the unanticipated circumstances of his arrival over and over in +his mind. + +Every now and then he laughed, sometimes with amusement and sometimes with +indignation. + +"Unformed mind!" he said. "Got no senses yet! They little know they've been +insulting their Heaven-sent King and master.... + +"I see I must bring them to reason. + +"Let me think. + +"Let me think." + +He was still thinking when the sun set. + +Nuñez had an eye for all beautiful things, and it seemed to him that the +glow upon the snow-fields and glaciers that rose about the valley on every +side was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. His eyes went from that +inaccessible glory to the village and irrigated fields, fast sinking into +the twilight, and suddenly a wave of emotion took him, and he thanked God +from the bottom of his heart that the power of sight had been given him. + +He heard a voice calling to him from out of the village. + +"Yaho there, Bogota! Come hither!" + +At that he stood up, smiling. He would show these people once and for all +what sight would do for a man. They would seek him, but not find him. + +"You move not, Bogota," said the voice. + +He laughed noiselessly and made two stealthy steps aside from the path. + +"Trample not on the grass, Bogota; that is not allowed." + +Nuñez had scarcely heard the sound he made himself. He stopped, amazed. + +The owner of the voice came running up the piebald path towards him. + +He stepped back into the pathway. "Here I am," he said. + +"Why did you not come when I called you?" said the blind man. "Must you be +led like a child? Cannot you hear the path as you walk?" + +Nuñez laughed. "I can see it," he said. + +"There is no such word as _see_," said the blind man, after a pause. "Cease +this folly and follow the sound of my feet." + +Nuñez followed, a little annoyed. + +"My time will come," he said. + +"You'll learn," the blind man answered. "There is much to learn in the +world." + +"Has no one told you, 'In the Country of the Blind the One-Eyed Man is +King'?" + +"What is blind?" asked the blind man, carelessly, over his shoulder. + +Four days passed and the fifth found the King of the Blind still incognito, +as a clumsy and useless stranger among his subjects. + +It was, he found, much more difficult to proclaim himself than he had +supposed, and in the meantime, while he meditated his _coup d'état_, he did +what he was told and learnt the manners and customs of the Country of the +Blind. He found working and going about at night a particularly irksome +thing, and he decided that that should be the first thing he would change. + +They led a simple, laborious life, these people, with all the elements of +virtue and happiness as these things can be understood by men. They toiled, +but not oppressively; they had food and clothing sufficient for their +needs; they had days and seasons of rest; they made much of music and +singing, and there was love among them and little children. It was +marvellous with what confidence and precision they went about their ordered +world. Everything, you see, had been made to fit their needs; each of the +radiating paths of the valley area had a constant angle to the others, and +was distinguished by a special notch upon its kerbing; all obstacles and +irregularities of path or meadow had long since been cleared away; all +their methods and procedure arose naturally from their special needs. Their +senses had become marvellously acute; they could hear and judge the +slightest gesture of a man a dozen paces away--could hear the very beating +of his heart. Intonation had long replaced expression with them, and +touches gesture, and their work with hoe and spade and fork was as free and +confident as garden work can be. Their sense of smell was extraordinarily +fine; they could distinguish individual differences as readily as a dog +can, and they went about the tending of llamas, who lived among the rocks +above and came to the wall for food and shelter, with ease and confidence. +It was only when at last Nuñez sought to assert himself that he found how +easy and confident their movements could be. + +He rebelled only after he had tried persuasion. + +[Illustration: "THE GLOW UPON THE SNOW-FIELDS AND GLACIERS WAS THE MOST +BEAUTIFUL THING HE HAD EVER SEEN."] + +He tried at first on several occasions to tell them of sight. "Look you +here, you people," he said. "There are things you do not understand in me." + +Once or twice one or two of them attended to him; they sat with faces +downcast and ears turned intelligently towards him, and he did his best to +tell them what it was to see. Among his hearers was a girl, with eyelids +less red and sunken than the others, so that one could almost fancy she was +hiding eyes, whom especially he hoped to persuade. He spoke of the beauties +of sight, of watching the mountains, of the sky and the sunrise, and they +heard him with amused incredulity that presently became condemnatory. They +told him there were indeed no mountains at all, but that the end of the +rocks where the llamas grazed was indeed the end of the world; thence +sprang a cavernous roof of the universe, from which the dew and the +avalanches fell; and when he maintained stoutly the world had neither end +nor roof such as they supposed, they said his thoughts were wicked. So far +as he could describe sky and clouds and stars to them it seemed to them a +hideous void, a terrible blankness in the place of the smooth roof to +things in which they believed--it was an article of faith with them that +the cavern roof was exquisitely smooth to the touch. He saw that in some +manner he shocked them, and gave up that aspect of the matter altogether, +and tried to show them the practical value of sight. One morning he saw +Pedro in the path called Seventeen and coming towards the central houses, +but still too far off for hearing or scent, and he told them as much. "In a +little while," he prophesied, "Pedro will be here." An old man remarked +that Pedro had no business on path Seventeen, and then, as if in +confirmation, that individual as he drew near turned and went transversely +into path Ten, and so back with nimble paces towards the outer wall. They +mocked Nuñez when Pedro did not arrive, and afterwards, when he asked Pedro +questions to clear his character, Pedro denied and outfaced him, and was +afterwards hostile to him. + +Then he induced them to let him go a long way up the sloping meadows +towards the wall with one complaisant individual, and to him he promised to +describe all that happened among the houses. He noted certain goings and +comings, but the things that really seemed to signify to these people +happened inside of or behind the windowless houses--the only things they +took note of to test him by--and of those he could see or tell nothing; and +it was after the failure of this attempt, and the ridicule they could not +repress, that he resorted to force. He thought of seizing a spade and +suddenly smiting one or two of them to earth, and so in fair combat showing +the advantage of eyes. He went so far with that resolution as to seize his +spade, and then he discovered a new thing about himself, and that was that +it was impossible for him to hit a blind man in cold blood. + +He hesitated, and found them all aware that he had snatched up the spade. +They stood all alert, with their heads on one side, and bent ears towards +him for what he would do next. + +"Put that spade down," said one, and he felt a sort of helpless horror. He +came near obedience. + +Then he had thrust one backwards against a house wall, and fled past him +and out of the village. + +He went athwart one of their meadows, leaving a track of trampled grass +behind his feet, and presently sat down by the side of one of their ways. +He felt something of the buoyancy that comes to all men in the beginning of +a fight, but more perplexity. He began to realize that you cannot even +fight happily with creatures who stand upon a different mental basis to +yourself. Far away he saw a number of men carrying spades and sticks come +out of the street of houses and advance in a spreading line along the +several paths towards him. They advanced slowly, speaking frequently to one +another, and ever and again the whole cordon would halt and sniff the air +and listen. + +The first time they did this Nuñez laughed. But afterwards he did not +laugh. + +One struck his trail in the meadow grass and came stooping and feeling his +way along it. + +For five minutes he watched the slow extension of the cordon, and then his +vague disposition to do something forthwith became frantic. He stood up, +went a pace or so towards the circumferential wall, turned, and went back a +little way. There they all stood in a crescent, still and listening. + +He also stood still, gripping his spade very tightly in both hands. Should +he charge them? + +The pulse in his ears ran into the rhythm of "In the Country of the Blind +the One-Eyed Man is King!" + +Should he charge them? + +He looked back at the high and unclimbable wall behind--unclimbable because +of its smooth plastering, but withal pierced with many little doors, and at +the approaching line of seekers. Behind these others were now coming out of +the street of houses. + +Should he charge them? + +"Bogota!" called one. "Bogota! where are you?" + +He gripped his spade still tighter and advanced down the meadows towards +the place of habitations, and directly he moved they converged upon him. +"I'll hit them if they touch me," he swore; "by Heaven, I will. I'll hit." +He called aloud, "Look here, I'm going to do what I like in this valley! Do +you hear? I'm going to do what I like and go where I like." + +[Illustration: "THEY WERE MOVING IN UPON HIM QUICKLY."] + +They were moving in upon him quickly, groping, yet moving rapidly. It was +like playing blind man's buff with everyone blind-folded except one. "Get +hold of him!" cried one. He found himself in the arc of a loose curve of +pursuers. He felt suddenly he must be active and resolute. + +"You don't understand," he cried, in a voice that was meant to be great and +resolute, and which broke. "You are blind and I can see. Leave me alone!" + +"Bogota! Put down that spade and come off the grass!" + +The last order, grotesque in its urban familiarity, produced a gust of +anger. "I'll hurt you," he said, sobbing with emotion. "By Heaven, I'll +hurt you! Leave me alone!" + +He began to run--not knowing clearly where to run. He ran from the nearest +blind man, because it was a horror to hit him. He stopped, and then made a +dash to escape from their closing ranks. He made for where a gap was wide, +and the men on either side, with a quick perception of the approach of his +paces, rushed in on one another. He sprang forward, and then saw he must be +caught, and _swish!_ the spade had struck. He felt the soft thud of hand +and arm, and the man was down with a yell of pain, and he was through. + +Through! And then he was close to the street of houses again, and blind +men, whirling spades and stakes, were running with a sort of reasoned +swiftness hither and thither. + +He heard steps behind him just in time, and found a tall man rushing +forward and swiping at the sound of him. He lost his nerve, hurled his +spade a yard wide at this antagonist, and whirled about and fled, fairly +yelling as he dodged another. + +He was panic-stricken. He ran furiously to and fro, dodging when there was +no need to dodge, and, in his anxiety to see on every side of him at once, +stumbling. For a moment he was down and they heard his fall. Far away in +the circumferential wall a little doorway looked like Heaven, and he set +off in a wild rush for it. He did not even look round at his pursuers until +it was gained, and he had stumbled across the bridge, clambered a little +way among the rocks, to the surprise and dismay of a young llama, who went +leaping out of sight, and lay down sobbing for breath. + +And so his _coup d'état_ came to an end. + +He stayed outside the wall of the valley of the blind for two nights and +days without food or shelter, and meditated upon the Unexpected. During +these meditations he repeated very frequently and always with a profounder +note of derision the exploded proverb: "In the Country of the Blind the +One-Eyed Man is King." He thought chiefly of ways of fighting and +conquering these people, and it grew clear that for him no practicable way +was possible. He had no weapons, and now it would be hard to get one. + +The canker of civilization had got to him even in Bogota, and he could not +find it in himself to go down and assassinate a blind man. Of course, if he +did that, he might then dictate terms on the threat of assassinating them +all. But----Sooner or later he must sleep!... + +He tried also to find food among the pine trees, to be comfortable under +pine boughs while the frost fell at night, and--with less confidence--to +catch a llama by artifice in order to try to kill it--perhaps by hammering +it with a stone--and so finally, perhaps, to eat some of it. But the llamas +had a doubt of him and regarded him with distrustful brown eyes and spat +when he drew near. Fear came on him the second day and fits of shivering. +Finally he crawled down to the wall of the Country of the Blind and tried +to make his terms. He crawled along by the stream, shouting, until two +blind men came out to the gate and talked to him. + +"I was mad," he said. "But I was only newly made." + +They said that was better. + +He told them he was wiser now, and repented of all he had done. + +Then he wept without intention, for he was very weak and ill now, and they +took that as a favourable sign. + +They asked him if he still thought he could "_see_." + +"No," he said. "That was folly. The word means nothing. Less than nothing!" + +They asked him what was overhead. + +"About ten times ten the height of a man there is a roof above the +world--of rock--and very, very smooth. So smooth--so beautifully +smooth...." He burst again into hysterical tears. "Before you ask me any +more, give me some food or I shall die!" + +He expected dire punishments, but these blind people were capable of +toleration. They regarded his rebellion as but one more proof of his +general idiocy and inferiority, and after they had whipped him they +appointed him to do the simplest and heaviest work they had for anyone to +do, and he, seeing no other way of living, did submissively what he was +told. + +He was ill for some days and they nursed him kindly. That refined his +submission. But they insisted on his lying in the dark, and that was a +great misery. And blind philosophers came and talked to him of the wicked +levity of his mind, and reproved him so impressively for his doubts about +the lid of rock that covered their cosmic _casserole_ that he almost +doubted whether indeed he was not the victim of hallucination in not seeing +it overhead. + +So Nuñez became a citizen of the Country of the Blind, and these people +ceased to be a generalized people and became individualities to him, and +familiar to him, while the world beyond the mountains became more and more +remote and unreal. There was Yacob, his master, a kindly man when not +annoyed; there was Pedro, Yacob's nephew; and there was Medina-saroté, who +was the youngest daughter of Yacob. She was little esteemed in the world of +the blind, because she had a clear-cut face and lacked that satisfying, +glossy smoothness that is the blind man's ideal of feminine beauty, but +Nuñez thought her beautiful at first, and presently the most beautiful +thing in the whole creation. Her closed eyelids were not sunken and red +after the common way of the valley, but lay as though they might open again +at any moment; and she had long eyelashes, which were considered a grave +disfigurement. And her voice was weak and did not satisfy the acute hearing +of the valley swains. So that she had no lover. + +There came a time when Nuñez thought that, could he win her, he would be +resigned to live in the valley for all the rest of his days. + +He watched her; he sought opportunities of doing her little services, and +presently he found that she observed him. Once at a rest-day gathering they +sat side by side in the dim starlight, and the music was sweet. His hand +came upon hers and he dared to clasp it. Then very tenderly she returned +his pressure. And one day, as they were at their meal in the darkness, he +felt her hand very softly seeking him, and as it chanced the fire leapt +then, and he saw the tenderness of her face. + +He sought to speak to her. + +He went to her one day when she was sitting in the summer moonlight +spinning. The light made her a thing of silver and mystery. He sat down at +her feet and told her he loved her, and told her how beautiful she seemed +to him. He had a lover's voice, he spoke with a tender reverence that came +near to awe, and she had never before been touched by adoration. She made +him no definite answer, but it was clear his words pleased her. + +[Illustration: "HE SAT DOWN AT HER FEET."] + +After that he talked to her whenever he could take an opportunity. The +valley became the world for him, and the world beyond the mountains where +men lived by day seemed no more than a fairy tale he would some day pour +into her ears. Very tentatively and timidly he spoke to her of sight. + +Sight seemed to her the most poetical of fancies, and she listened to his +description of the stars and the mountains and her own sweet white-lit +beauty as though it was a guilty indulgence. She did not believe, she could +only half understand, but she was mysteriously delighted, and it seemed to +him that she completely understood. + +His love lost its awe and took courage. Presently he was for demanding her +of Yacob and the elders in marriage, but she became fearful and delayed. +And it was one of her elder sisters who first told Yacob that Medina-saroté +and Nuñez were in love. + +There was from the first very great opposition to the marriage of Nuñez and +Medina-saroté; not so much because they valued her as because they held him +as a being apart, an idiot, incompetent thing below the permissible level +of a man. Her sisters opposed it bitterly as bringing discredit on them +all; and old Yacob, though he had formed a sort of liking for his clumsy, +obedient serf, shook his head and said the thing could not be. The young +men were all angry at the idea of corrupting the race, and one went so far +as to revile and strike Nuñez. He struck back. Then for the first time he +found an advantage in seeing, even by twilight, and after that fight was +over no one was disposed to raise a hand against him. But they still found +his marriage impossible. + +Old Yacob had a tenderness for his last little daughter, and was grieved to +have her weep upon his shoulder. + +"You see, my dear, he's an idiot. He has delusions; he can't do anything +right." + +"I know," wept Medina-saroté. "But he's better than he was. He's getting +better. And he's strong, dear father, and kind--stronger and kinder than +any other man in the world. And he loves me--and, father, I love him." + +Old Yacob was greatly distressed to find her inconsolable, and, +besides--what made it more distressing--he liked Nuñez for many things. So +he went and sat in the windowless council-chamber with the other elders and +watched the trend of the talk, and said, at the proper time, "He's better +than he was. Very likely, some day, we shall find him as sane as +ourselves." + +Then afterwards one of the elders, who thought deeply, had an idea. He was +the great doctor among these people, their medicine-man, and he had a very +philosophical and inventive mind, and the idea of curing Nuñez of his +peculiarities appealed to him. One day when Yacob was present he returned +to the topic of Nuñez. "I have examined Nuñez," he said, "and the case is +clearer to me. I think very probably he might be cured." + +"That is what I have always hoped," said old Yacob. + +"His brain is affected," said the blind doctor. + +The elders murmured assent. + +[Illustration: "'HIS BRAIN IS AFFECTED,' SAID THE BLIND DOCTOR."] + +"Now, _what_ affects it?" + +"Ah!" said old Yacob. + +"_This_," said the doctor, answering his own question. "Those queer things +that are called the eyes, and which exist to make an agreeable depression +in the face, are diseased, in the case of Nuñez, in such a way as to affect +his brain. They are greatly distended, he has eyelashes, and his eyelids +move, and consequently his brain is in a state of constant irritation and +distraction." + +"Yes?" said old Yacob. "Yes?" + +"And I think I may say with reasonable certainty that, in order to cure him +completely, all that we need to do is a simple and easy surgical +operation--namely, to remove these irritant bodies." + +"And then he will be sane?" + +"Then he will be perfectly sane, and a quite admirable citizen." + +"Thank Heaven for science!" said old Yacob, and went forth at once to tell +Nuñez of his happy hopes. + +But Nuñez's manner of receiving the good news struck him as being cold and +disappointing. + +"One might think," he said, "from the tone you take that you did not care +for my daughter." + +It was Medina-saroté who persuaded Nuñez to face the blind surgeons. + +"_You_ do not want me," he said, "to lose my gift of sight?" + +She shook her head. + +"My world is sight." + +Her head drooped lower. + +"There are the beautiful things, the beautiful little things--the flowers, +the lichens amidst the rocks, the light and softness on a piece of fur, the +far sky with its drifting down of clouds, the sunsets and the stars. And +there is _you_. For you alone it is good to have sight, to see your sweet, +serene face, your kindly lips, your dear, beautiful hands folded +together.... It is these eyes of mine you won, these eyes that hold me to +you, that these idiots seek. Instead, I must touch you, hear you, and never +see you again. I must come under that roof of rock and stone and darkness, +that horrible roof under which your imaginations stoop.... _No_; _you_ +would not have me do that?" + +A disagreeable doubt had arisen in him. He stopped and left the thing a +question. + +"I wish," she said, "sometimes----" She paused. + +"Yes?" said he, a little apprehensively. + +"I wish sometimes--you would not talk like that." + +"Like what?" + +[Illustration: "HE HAD A FEW MINUTES WITH MEDINA-SAROTÉ BEFORE SHE WENT +APART TO SLEEP."] + +"I know it's pretty--it's your imagination. I love it, but _now_----" + +He felt cold. "_Now?_" he said, faintly. + +She sat quite still. + +"You mean--you think--I should be better, better perhaps----" + +He was realizing things very swiftly. He felt anger perhaps, anger at the +dull course of fate, but also sympathy for her lack of understanding--a +sympathy near akin to pity. "_Dear_," he said, and he could see by her +whiteness how tensely her spirit pressed against the things she could not +say. He put his arms about her, he kissed her ear, and they sat for a time +in silence. + +"If I were to consent to this?" he said at last, in a voice that was very +gentle. + +She flung her arms about him, weeping wildly. "Oh, if you would," she +sobbed, "if only you would!" + + * * * * * + +For a week before the operation that was to raise him from his servitude +and inferiority to the level of a blind citizen Nuñez knew nothing of +sleep, and all through the warm, sunlit hours, while the others slumbered +happily, he sat brooding or wandered aimlessly, trying to bring his mind to +bear on his dilemma. He had given his answer, he had given his consent, and +still he was not sure. And at last work-time was over, the sun rose in +splendour over the golden crests, and his last day of vision began for him. +He had a few minutes with Medina-saroté before she went apart to sleep. + +"To-morrow," he said, "I shall see no more." + +"Dear heart!" she answered, and pressed his hands with all her strength. + +"They will hurt you but little," she said; "and you are going through this +pain, you are going through it, dear lover, for _me_.... Dear, if a woman's +heart and life can do it, I will repay you. My dearest one, my dearest with +the tender voice, I will repay." + +He was drenched in pity for himself and her. + +He held her in his arms, and pressed his lips to hers and looked on her +sweet face for the last time. "Good-bye!" he whispered to that dear sight, +"good-bye!" + +And then in silence he turned away from her. + +She could hear his slow retreating footsteps, and something in the rhythm +of them threw her into a passion of weeping. + +He walked away. + +He had fully meant to go to a lonely place where the meadows were beautiful +with white narcissus, and there remain until the hour of his sacrifice +should come, but as he walked he lifted up his eyes and saw the morning, +the morning like an angel in golden armour, marching down the steeps.... + +It seemed to him that before this splendour he and this blind world in the +valley, and his love and all, were no more than a pit of sin. + +He did not turn aside as he had meant to do, but went on and passed through +the wall of the circumference and out upon the rocks, and his eyes were +always upon the sunlit ice and snow. + +He saw their infinite beauty, and his imagination soared over them to the +things beyond he was now to resign for ever! + +He thought of that great free world that he was parted from, the world that +was his own, and he had a vision of those further slopes, distance beyond +distance, with Bogota, a place of multitudinous stirring beauty, a glory by +day, a luminous mystery by night, a place of palaces and fountains and +statues and white houses, lying beautifully in the middle distance. He +thought how for a day or so one might come down through passes drawing ever +nearer and nearer to its busy streets and ways. He thought of the river +journey, day by day, from great Bogota to the still vaster world beyond, +through towns and villages, forest and desert places, the rushing river day +by day, until its banks receded and the big steamers came splashing by and +one had reached the sea--the limitless sea, with its thousand islands, its +thousands of islands, and its ships seen dimly far away in their incessant +journeyings round and about that greater world. And there, unpent by +mountains, one saw the sky--the sky, not such a disc as one saw it here, +but an arch of immeasurable blue, a deep of deeps in which the circling +stars were floating.... + +His eyes began to scrutinize the great curtain of the mountains with a +keener inquiry. + +For example: if one went so, up that gully and to that chimney there, then +one might come out high among those stunted pines that ran round in a sort +of shelf and rose still higher and higher as it passed above the gorge. And +then? That talus might be managed. Thence perhaps a climb might be found to +take him up to the precipice that came below the snow; and if that chimney +failed, then another farther to the east might serve his purpose better. +And then? Then one would be out upon the amber-lit snow there, and half-way +up to the crest of those beautiful desolations. And suppose one had good +fortune! + +He glanced back at the village, then turned right round and regarded it +with folded arms. + +He thought of Medina-saroté, and she had become small and remote. + +He turned again towards the mountain wall down which the day had come to +him. + +Then, very circumspectly he began his climb. + + * * * * * + +When sunset came he was no longer climbing, but he was far and high. His +clothes were torn, his limbs were blood-stained, he was bruised in many +places, but he lay as if he were at his ease, and there was a smile on his +face. + +From where he rested the valley seemed as if it were in a pit and nearly a +mile below. Already it was dim with haze and shadow, though the mountain +summits around him were things of light and fire. The mountain summits +around him were things of light and fire, and the little things in the +rocks near at hand were drenched with light and beauty, a vein of green +mineral piercing the grey, a flash of small crystal here and there, a +minute, minutely-beautiful orange lichen close beside his face. There were +deep, mysterious shadows in the gorge, blue deepening into purple, and +purple into a luminous darkness, and overhead was the illimitable vastness +of the sky. But he heeded these things no longer, but lay quite still +there, smiling as if he were content now merely to have escaped from the +valley of the Blind, in which he had thought to be King. And the glow of +the sunset passed, and the night came, and still he lay there, under the +cold, clear stars. + + + + +_Off the Track in London._ + +BY GEORGE R. SIMS. + + +I. IN ALIEN-LAND. + +It is many a long year since I first began to find delight in wandering +through the least-known districts of the capital, in visiting strange +quarters inhabited by strange people, in penetrating dim, mysterious +regions where thousands of our fellow-citizens live, cut off from the rest +of the populace by a network of streets and slums into which it is nobody's +business but the inhabitants' to enter, and where a visitor from beyond is +rarely seen. + +At first my travels were undertaken solely to gratify my own curiosity. +Later on, when there came to me an opportunity of exploring with a less +selfish end in view, many circumstances combined to give me an insight into +the life of the people which I could never have gained as a mere onlooker. +So it has come about that to-day I can not only survey the streets of the +strange lands in the capital of King Edward, but I can enter the houses and +take my notes from the cellar to the roof. I am privileged to sit around +the coke fire in lodging-houses where an ordinary stranger would meet with +scant courtesy; and the mysteries of "How the Poor Live" are freely +unveiled to me. In the vilest of the native quarters, in the queerest of +the foreign quarters, I am permitted to spend days and nights, not peeping +furtively at the human comedies and tragedies in which the strange men and +women are players, but made way for as one entitled to a front place in the +local audience. + +Of some of the things that I have seen I have written from time to time, +but I have always longed for the pencil of the artist to enable the reader +to realize what some of the scenes actually mean. And now my wish has been +gratified. I have been able to wander off the track in London accompanied +by an artist _confrère_, and to provide him with opportunities for making +sketches on the spot. + + * * * * * + +It is four o'clock on Sunday afternoon as we come out of Aldgate Station +and in a few minutes turn into Middlesex Street, littered with paper and +straw and rubbish, the remains of the great Sunday morning market, which is +at its highest at noon and gradually disappears as the afternoon wears on. + +The scene is known to most Londoners, for the fame of Petticoat Lane, as +the street was formerly called, has spread through the length and breadth +of the land. + +But we must pass through it to get off the track in the Ghetto, which has +burst its old boundaries and now extends over a large area which until +lately was a Christian quarter. + +It is not till we come to Wentworth Street that the strangeness of the +Sunday scene reveals itself. Here all the shops are open and the narrow +thoroughfare is packed with the stalls of Jewish hawkers. We hear a little +English at the top of Wentworth Street, but as we push our way through the +seething crowd and get nearer to Brick Lane the English words become rarer +and rarer, and presently only the German Hebrew jargon known as "Yiddish" +reaches our ears. + +We are in the heart of the old Ghetto. The alien immigrants, many of them +fresh from the Pale of Settlement in Russia and the persecutions of +Roumania, are chaffering and bargaining with their co-religionists who have +been in London long enough to stock a barrow or a stall and start on the +path of financial progress, which may lead their sons, if not themselves, +_viâ_ Dalston, Canonbury, Maida Vale, and Bayswater, to Kensington, and +perhaps Park Lane. + +Stop for a moment and gaze at the crowd. A London child seeing it for the +first time would look at the faces and recall the Bible pictures. +Everywhere the Oriental type predominates. The old, solemn-looking men--the +poorest of the hawkers, for they have come to the Land of Promise too late +to struggle out of the ruck--have the beards and features of the +Patriarchs. They are calling aloud the price of their poor goods in the +lachrymose sing-song of the Eastern pedlar. Pious Jews are these aged +immigrants, and if you were to follow them to their synagogue you would see +them swaying to and fro as they repeat their prayers in the same mournful, +wailing voice with which they cry their wares. + +[Illustration: "IN WENTWORTH STREET."] + +The women are as Eastern as the men. The girls are handsome, dark-haired, +dark-eyed daughters of Israel, whose type of beauty has not changed in all +the thousand years of persecution and exile. + +The younger women are well dressed, with a tendency to brilliant colours +and the "Paris fashion" that is displayed in the gay millinery shops of the +Ghetto. The children, who have been running in and out of the crowd, are +neat and clean, their pinafores are white, their boots are good and +well-fitting, their hair is bound with bright ribbons, and their frocks are +pretty. The first thought of the poorest alien immigrant is for his +children, and his pride is to see them well clad and well cared for. + +The middle-aged women and the old women are true daughters of the East. +They wear coloured shawls over their heads. There is a curious monotony in +the coiffure of the women of the Ghetto who have passed their first youth. +The woman of thirty and the woman of seventy seem equally well supplied +with a head of glossy black hair. The stranger wonders, as he looks into an +old, wrinkled face, at the abundance of black hair surmounting it. If he +asks the reason he will learn that many of the Russian Jewesses cut their +own hair off on the day of their marriage and wear a wig for the rest of +their lives. To the Oriental the glory of a woman is her hair. The Jewish +bride was expected to sacrifice this attraction in order that she should +not entice the eyes of men. + +[Illustration: "A CLOTHES AUCTION IN FULL SWING."] + +It is a custom of long ago and the Russian Jewesses adhere to it. Most of +the older women came into the Ghetto straight from the ship that landed +them in the Thames, and they rarely go beyond its boundaries. Many of them +would not if they had the chance. + +Here is a clothes auction in full swing. The sombre shop, the front window +of which is pushed half-way up, is packed with ready-made suits. The +proprietor is selling them to an eager crowd of men, who, when their bid is +accepted, take trousers, coats, and waistcoats over their arm and walk away +with their purchase. There is a tailor's shop close at hand where twenty +cutters and a large number of hands are employed in preparing suits solely +for the Sunday sale in this street. + +Within a stone's throw of this street is a great Sunday gold and diamond +market. During the morning and early afternoon you may see a number of men +with little wash-leather bags or velvet-lined cases displaying their +glittering merchandise to one another. The jewel mart and exchange is in +progress. Many hundreds of pounds' worth of jewels change hands within a +few minutes. In Wentworth Street the buyer will haggle and bargain for half +an hour over a few pence. In St. James's Place a transaction involving +hundreds of pounds is carried out in a minute with scarcely a superfluous +word. The business is conducted with perfect good-humour, but the dealers +are among the keenest and cleverest men in the City of London. + +But we are still only half off the track, for now and again the Gentile +sightseer penetrates as far as this. + +As we come out from Wentworth Street into Brick Lane, where there is no +market and so no crowd, the long line of open shops and busy warehouses, +the hum and bustle of trade and toil in full swing, strike us as peculiar +when we remember that it is Sunday. Leaving Brick Lane with its Russian +post-office, its Roumanian restaurants, and shop after shop where the young +men of the Ghetto take the syrups and temperance drinks that are their +principal liquid refreshment, we make our way down Commercial Street and +plunge into the new Ghetto, a vast area far more foreign than the old +Ghetto, and now entirely given up to the alien immigrant. In the broad main +thoroughfare the shops are all open and trade is at its height. The +factories are busy, the furniture shops are loading their vans, the +shipping agents and bankers are taking money for remittance to relatives +abroad who are to leave the Russian Pale and come to the city paved with +gold, or booking passages to America and the Colonies for the immigrants +who are "moving on." + +Here the scene to the unaccustomed Gentile eye is only odd. Directly he +turns into the small streets the stranger is filled with absolute +astonishment. Many of them are still crowded with dwelling-houses of the +poorest class; but where the Gentile dwelt the Jew trades. House after +house has been transformed into a shop. Windows have been taken out and +living rooms packed with merchandise. Every available corner is used, and +one sees the proprietor sitting in a little front room so packed in with +rolls of gay-coloured cloths, fancy boxes, and packages that one imagines +his only way of getting out must be by a harlequin leap through the window. + +You may wander through miles of streets in this quarter and see the same +strange sight--the immigrant Jew who has established himself keeping open +shop in a dwelling-house all the Sunday through. You may see trade in full +tide at eight o'clock in the morning. When midnight has rung out from the +churches which still remain as memorials of the vanished Christian +population you will still see the shops open and the Rembrandtesque figure +of the owner sitting among his wares, waiting for a chance customer. He is +perhaps reading a Yiddish paper, printed in Hebrew characters, by the light +of a candle, slowly guttering to its last flicker. + +[Illustration: "THE ORIENTAL BAZAAR."] + +But it is not yet night, though the twilight is falling as we turn into +Morgan Street, and come suddenly upon a page of the old Orient bound up in +the book of modern Western life. + +Here is a building which is fitly labelled "The Oriental Bazaar." You are +in London, but you might be in Cairo or Mogador. The bazaar or "market" is +reached from the street by deep flights of steps. It is open to the sky, +and beyond it and above it is a street of houses, and a roadway along which +flit now and again Eastern women with gay-coloured shawls over their heads. + +The "shops" of the market are built in little recesses. In these sit silent +Oriental figures--the dealers. Most of the day's business is over. There +are only a few loiterers, and the men and women who keep the little shops +sit silent and emotionless as the Arabs among their unsold wares. In one +shop the stock has been sold out and the proprietor is sitting in the gloom +playing cards with a little party of men friends. + +It is a picture for Rembrandt. The only light in the arched recess which +forms the shop is that of a candle. Round the candle are grouped +half-a-dozen dark, weird-looking men, all intent upon the game. + +There is one card to be played. Uttering a little guttural cry, the man who +holds it brings it down on the counter with a thud. The game the men are +playing is one peculiar to these people. It is called Clabber-yas. The last +card played, the ninth trump, adds ten points to the score and wins the +game. + +And at that moment the distant church bells ring out to call the Christian +worshippers to evening prayer. + +But the Sabbath evening does not find the Jews undevout. The darkness has +fallen now, and we make our way back to the crowded streets of the old +Ghetto. Here the long lines of lighted shops are now packed with their +evening customers, who are buying meat and groceries and selecting +furniture, being measured for new suits, trying on smart hats and cloaks of +the latest West-end fashion, and examining the pink and blue and yellow +silk petticoats which make such a gay show in the brilliantly-lighted +windows of the milliners. We turn into a quiet street where the prevailing +note is gloom, and, having secured the friendly escort of a Jewish +clergyman's son, without whose presence we should hesitate to intrude, we +pass through a dark doorway and find ourselves among a group of men whose +features and whose occupations would have delighted the heart of Gustave +Doré. + +In the hall, or ante-room, of the building are shelves packed with +ancient-looking volumes--books of Rabbinic lore and law. Gathered together +in groups are a number of Jews, young and old, who are standing around a +desk at which an aged man with a long grey beard is reading a well-worn +volume and explaining certain passages of it to the men who crowd about him +and listen intently to his words. + +We are in the ante-room of a building which is known as the "Machazeke +Hadass V'Shomrei Shabbas"--that is, "The Strengtheners of the Law and +Guardians of the Sabbath." It is known officially as "The Spitalfields +Great Synagogue." The members of it, almost all alien immigrants, comprise +the ultra-orthodox section of the community. They have their own Chief +Rabbi, their own Shechita Board (the board that controls the slaughtering +of animals), and their own Beth Din (the court of justice). These pious +Jews are distinguished by their scrupulous observance of the Sabbath as a +day of rest. They will not even carry their handkerchief on the Sabbath day +because it constitutes carrying a burden. That is forbidden, so they tie it +round their waist as a girdle, where it becomes part of their clothing and +so allowable. They will not carry an umbrella on the Sabbath, not only +because it is a burden, but also because the putting up of an umbrella is +considered equivalent to the erecting of a tent over the head. And they +strictly obey the injunction which says neither thou nor thy servant shall +do any manner of work on the Sabbath day. For what is absolutely necessary +they employ an occasional servant, who is known as the "Shobbos Goy." They +never give him a direct order for the performance of a household task, but +they sometimes manage to evade the injunction. For instance, if it is +bitterly cold and coals are wanted on the fire, they don't say, "Put more +coals on." They shiver and rub their hands and say, "It is terribly cold." +Then the Shobbos Goy takes the hint and makes the fire up. + +Let us linger for a moment among this strange group of devout Jews, few of +whom can speak a word of English, though they are likely to pass the rest +of their lives in our midst. + +The pious old man who is thumbing the book is displaying his Talmudic +erudition to his hearers. The synagogue is open night and day, and this +ante-room is always filled with reverent and intelligent loungers, who +listen to the exposition of the Talmud and occasionally discuss the affairs +of the moment, for the alien Jew has brought with him the old custom of +making the synagogue a meeting-place and a club. + +In the same room a number of men are swaying to and fro and repeating their +prayers in the Oriental fashion. Everywhere there is a note that is a +revelation to the Gentile visitor who is privileged to look upon the scene. + +[Illustration: "IN THE SYNAGOGUE."] + +The privilege is not easily gained, for these pious Jews, most of them from +the lands of persecution and massacre, are still nervous and fearful. They +have not yet learned the true meaning of English freedom, and the Alien +Commission is to them a warning note of some new disaster that threatens. + +Passing from the Talmud school into the synagogue itself, you are startled +to find the Royal Arms of England, elaborately carved and coloured, +standing out boldly on the walls. + +The mystery is solved when we learn that this was originally a Huguenot +chapel, owned by the French refugees who settled in Spitalfields after the +revocation of the Edict of Nantes. At one time the Huguenots were under +special Royal favour, which may account for the display of the Royal Arms +in their place of worship. The Jews acquired the building and converted it +into a synagogue about ten years ago. + +The synagogue is only dimly lighted. Here and there a few worshippers are +sitting in the pews repeating their prayers or reading a tattered volume. +In one pew sits an old man writing by the aid of a tallow candle, which he +has stuck on the little shelf in front of him. He is writing out one of the +tiny scrolls which, encased in a capsule of tin or glass, forms the +"Mezuzzah," the amulet which every orthodox Jew places on his doors; or +perhaps the miniature manuscript is intended to be placed inside the +"Tephillin"--that is, the phylacteries which are bound round the head and +the left arm for the morning prayers. Remembering that the Mezuzzah and the +Tephillin are direct Sinaitic ordinances, we look at the old man writing by +the gleam of the candle in the gloomy synagogue with feelings of awe and +reverence. Forty centuries ago the injunction was given in the far-off +Eastern desert which the Hebrew exile is transcribing to-day in the heart +of London. + +But, weird and mystic as the scene is, we do not care to linger. Already +the uninvited presence of Christian strangers has attracted considerable +attention, and the efforts of our artist to sketch unobserved have brought +about us a number of the pious and aged aliens, who consult together in +Yiddish and eventually put forward a spokesman, who, in broken English, +politely asks us what we want. + +We make our explanation and assure the head of the little deputation that +we have no evil intent, and then as quickly as is consistent with dignity +we make our way through the Talmud room, the readers and expounders and the +aged men rocking to and fro in prayer, and pass out into the darkness of +the night. On the step an old man stands and looks after us. The pale light +coming through the open door falls upon his face and shows a deep scar that +looks like a sabre cut. The old man is one of the survivors of the massacre +of Kischineff. + +And now we are back again in the big trading streets, with the yellow blaze +of gas and lamp oil showing up the bright costumes of young Jewesses who +are on their way to balls and parties and even to theatrical performances, +which are frequent Sunday features of this foreign land which is in London +but not of it. + +Every now and then through the packed streets dashes a carriage with a +spanking pair of greys. Sunday is the day for weddings in the Ghetto. The +white ribbon on the whip of the coachman catches the eye again and again, +and always a little crowd turns to follow the vehicle and take up its +station outside the Hall in which the marriage feast is being celebrated. +These wedding carriages are to be seen making their way through the narrow +streets in every direction. They are picking up the invited guests at their +dwellings. As soon as one load has been deposited at the Hall, off the +driver hurries in search of another. + +All is merriment within, and all is good temper and good order outside. The +crowd blocks the pavement to listen and to make critical remarks on the +toilettes of the guests as they arrive. One sharp turn out of the gay, +crowded street and the scene is changed. Here everything is gloom, and in +the gloom is a little group of slouching men and slatternly women loafing +at the doors of dark, forbidding-looking houses. + +[Illustration: "LOAFING AT THE DOORS OF DARK, FORBIDDING-LOOKING HOUSES."] + +We are in a quarter that has been rendered notorious by the revelations of +coroners' inquests. This is a little bit of the Ghetto that the Jews have +not yet taken from the Christians. It is the street of common +lodging-houses where strange murders have been done. We pass quickly by the +group of loafing tramps who have come out of the lodging-house kitchens to +gossip, and make our way up a narrow, tortuous passage to another street of +evil fame, where lodging-houses of the lowest class still remain. Battered +wrecks of lost humanity, male and female, flit to and fro in the darkness. +A woman pauses under the solitary lamp and we see that her face is bruised +and her eyes are blackened. The door of one lodging-house stands ajar and +the English tongue salutes our ears once more. It is not a welcome relief, +for the sentiment of the words is foul and blasphemous. At the top of the +court one comes again upon good buildings and light and a sound of childish +merriment. A number of little Jewish children are dancing a dance of their +own in the lamplight. + +[Illustration: "A NUMBER OF LITTLE JEWISH CHILDREN ARE DANCING."] + +We pass out into a broad main thoroughfare, and still the shops are open +and doing a brisk business. Here is a little restaurant with its bill of +fare in Hebrew characters. We push the door ajar and enter, for we know +that it was once the haunt of the Bessarabians, the formidable gang who had +a standing vendetta with the Odessians, and who fought them not long ago +outside the Yiddish theatre, the fray ending in a man being stabbed to +death. + +The room we enter is lighted by a single jet of gas. There are only one or +two young fellows sitting about and smoking cigarettes. The proprietor in +his shirt sleeves stands behind the counter. At the end of the room is an +opening covered with heavy curtains. Now and again a man enters, nods to +the proprietor, and passes through them. + +We have ordered tea, for which we pay a penny a cup. The proprietor brings +it himself, looks at us curiously, and I endeavour to allay his suspicion +by speaking to him in German. He replies amiably, and I try to engage him +in conversation. I ask him if the Bessarabians still use the house. + +His manner alters. He has heard of such people, but they never came to his +establishment--never. I ask him if there is another restaurant beyond the +curtain. Again he looks at me curiously. + +No, there is nothing beyond but his own dwelling rooms. I want to get +behind those curtains; but I have not the password, and there is no chance. +Some day I hope to be more fortunate. For this _café_ was the meeting-place +of the Bessarabians, one of the most dangerous gangs in the East-end, and +behind those curtains you passed to a room which was a gambling den. There +the quarrel took place which led to midnight murder at the corner of the +dark street. + +We walk quietly away and in five minutes we are back upon the beaten track. +Everywhere are closed shops and the calm of the Christian Sunday night. The +householders pass on their homeward way. The sweethearts linger for a while +before they part at the door, or separate to go each a different way. + +And though they are within a few minutes' walk of the strange scenes we +have looked upon by turning a little way off the beaten track, most of +these people are as ignorant of their existence as was the great French +critic who came for the first time to London and was taken to Piccadilly +Circus, was told that it was the famous Whitechapel--and believed it. + + + + +_Artists and Musicians._ + +BY S. K. LUDOVIC. + + +The following collection of pictures, in each of which the artist has +depicted an event in the lives of the great musicians, can open with +nothing more suitably than with the charming picture of "The Child Handel," +by Margaret Dicksee. Handel's father strongly opposed the child's +passionate love for music, and the more his great gifts developed the more +severely was he forbidden to occupy himself with music. The little boy was +obliged to have recourse to subterfuge, and when his elders believed him +snug in bed he used to steal on tip-toe to the lumber-room, where he had +discovered an old spinet, on which he played softly to his heart's content, +alone and fancy-free. In one of these moments of enjoyment, when the divine +genius spoke to the child, he forgot himself and played louder and +louder--all the sound of the old spinet streamed through the silent night, +waking the sleepers in the house, who believed that the angels were keeping +vigil over the old town of Halle. But little George's father bethought +himself of the musical propensities of the boy, and, as the latter was not +to be found in his bed, the lantern was lit and a search-party followed +where the music led them. Alas! Poor George was found, severely +reprimanded, and dismissed to bed. The picture brings the scene so vividly +before our minds that we are glad to know the sequel. George was not to be +suppressed. A short time afterwards his father went to Weissenfels, where, +in consequence of the presence of the music-loving Prince, many concerts +were to be held. Little George knew this, and, as his father would not let +him go, he ran after the coach so long that his parent was compelled to +take him in. The Prince heard of the extraordinary child-musician, and, +thanks to his intercession, Handel's father at last gave permission that +his son should be taught music. + +[Illustration: "THE CHILD HANDEL." + +FROM THE PICTURE BY MARGARET DICKSEE. + +By permission of the Berlin Photographic Company, 133, New Bond Street, +London, W. + +_Copyright, 1893, by Photographische Gesellschaft._] + +The next picture shows us Sebastian Bach, "the father of all music," +playing before Frederick the Great. The painter has chosen the moment when +the King is giving Bach a theme on which to improvise. This theme, "a right +royal one," as Bach called it, was afterwards worked out by him and sent +back to the King, under the name of "A Musical Sacrifice." The King, who +was himself a remarkable musician, had shown Bach the greatest +appreciation, and this visit to Potsdam seems to have been one of the +happiest events in Bach's life. Those who are inclined to regard Frederick, +in his musical capacity, as no better than a _dilettante_ flute-player +would do well to remember that he was among the first to recognise and to +encourage the genius of one of the greatest musicians of all time. Yet +Bach's greater works remained in manuscript, and it was left to musicians +of a later period--especially to Mendelssohn--to unearth and make them +known to the world at large. + +[Illustration: "FREDERICK THE GREAT AND SEBASTIAN BACH." + +FROM THE PICTURE BY CARL RÖHLING. + +By permission of the Berlin Photographic Company, 133, New Bond Street, +London, W. + +_Copyright, 1901, by Photographische Gesellschaft._] + +Another of our master-musicians, Haydn, unlike Bach, who never left his +country, came to England, and reached in this country the summit of his +renown. In the picture on the next page we see him on board ship. Well +wrapped in his great-coat he stands on deck and seems to enjoy the +sea-breezes, unconscious of the curiosity of the other passengers. He is +wondering what will await him in that strange country across the sea. Will +they understand him and the message he has to deliver to them: harmonies +so pure and simple from a heart so kindly and a will so strong? And they +did understand him in England; a glorious season of success awaited him. +Sympathy met him everywhere, and in such fulness that on returning home to +Austria he stopped at the little village of his birth and, kneeling at the +threshold of his father's humble cottage, he thanked God for all the +happiness which he had known in England. + +[Illustration: "HAYDN CROSSING TO ENGLAND." + +FROM THE PICTURE BY CARL RÖHLING. + +By permission of the Berlin Photographic Company, 133, New Bond Street, +London, W. + +_Copyright, 1902, by Photographische Gesellschaft._] + +In his wake followed another and a brighter star. When Haydn was at the +zenith of his success all Germany began to talk of the little infant +prodigy, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Our first Mozart picture shows him at the +epoch of his life when he first fell in love. While on a visit to an uncle +he met his fate in the shape of one of his youthful cousins, Aloysia Weber. +The two sisters were pretty; the older, whom in the picture we see +lingering in the other room, was full of kindness and sweet unselfishness, +always putting forward the younger and more talented sister. Aloysia had a +beautiful and well-trained voice, and could read a song at first sight. +What was more natural than that the two young people who loved music should +learn to love each other? Then came the parting hour. Mozart was compelled +to go on one of his extensive tours. Two years passed by before he could +return to his Aloysia. She had, of course, vowed everlasting love; but, +alas for the faithlessness, the vanity of woman! Wolfgang came back, +faithful and loving as he had left, to find that Aloysia had grown into a +very beautiful girl, who had tasted the joys of celebrity as a singer. +Success had turned her head and she had nothing to say to the young +musician, who was only on the road to make his fame, and she threw away a +treasure which she was too ignorant to prize. + +[Illustration: "MOZART AND ALOYSIA WEBER." + +FROM THE PICTURE BY CARL RÖHLING. + +By permission of the Berlin Photographic Company, 133, New Bond Street, +London, W. + +_Copyright, 1902 by Photographische Gesellschaft._] + +[Illustration: "MOZART AND BEETHOVEN." + +FROM THE PICTURE BY A. BORCKMANN. + +By permission of the Berlin Photographic Company, 133, New Bond Street, +London, W.] + +In the next picture we see Mozart again when, at the height of his own +fame, he listens to one who was destined to be greater even than +himself--the young Beethoven. The young musician of sixteen asked him for a +theme on which to improvise. Slowly the genius unfolded his wings; the +simple theme seemed to grow to a mighty phrase, which was taken up by other +voices as the harmony swelled under the fingers of the player who was +destined to show the coming generations the power of music at its greatest. +Mozart listened more and more attentively, his eyes fixed upon the young +musician, his face wearing an almost reverential look under the spell of +celestial inspiration, which came now like the rushing of a mighty wind. +The music still went on. Beethoven had forgotten that he was not alone; but +Mozart turned to his friends. "Listen!" he said. "And remember, of this +young man the whole world will speak." + +Kaulbach, in his painting, "Mozart's Requiem," has immortalized the moment +when fate cut short the life of Mozart. The fire of his genius, the +never-ceasing, burning desire to embody the immortal inspirations which +floated so richly in his brain, had "fretted the pigmy body to decay." Ill +and depressed he was leaning back in his chair, when a stranger was +announced, who asked him to compose a Requiem as full of dignity and beauty +as his genius could conceive, a work which should be without an equal. He +laid down a roll of a thousand ducats on Mozart's table and went away +without disclosing his name, saying only that he would call again. Then the +master collected his last strength, and a sublime effort resulted in the +unique work, before which the world still stands in awe and reverence. He +felt from the first moment that he was writing his own Requiem. + +The work was finished and now he wished to hear it. Too weak to stir from +his room, he summoned his friends to perform the Requiem before him. They +came and he listened, still and happy, to those mighty strains of sadness; +and, so listening, his own soul flew to Heaven. This is the scene of +Kaulbach's picture. + +[Illustration: "THE LAST HOUR OF MOZART." + +FROM THE PICTURE BY H. KAULBACH. + +By permission of the Berlin Photographic Company, 133 New Bond Street, +London, W.] + +The well-known and well-beloved "Moonlight Sonata," whose power and beauty +will delight for ages, is the subject of the very pretty story depicted on +the next page. It is said that Beethoven passed, in the course of one of +his rambling walks, a lonely street in the suburbs of Vienna, and heard +from an open window the strains of his own music. The music came from a +room on the ground floor, and when he approached he saw a young girl +sitting at the piano and a child listening to her, huddled up on a chair +near by. Impulsive as he was, he at once entered, saying, "I know that +piece. What makes you play it? Does it please you?" "I love all Beethoven's +compositions," said the young girl in a sweet, quiet voice, without +showing any surprise at being thus interrupted by a stranger. But the child +came quickly towards him, saying, "My sister is blind, and music is her +only joy. What is it you want, sir?" With that peculiar directness which +was so characteristic of his nature, he simply said, "I wish to play to +you. I am Beethoven." Then the two girls settled themselves joyfully to +listen. The moon had risen, the street was silent, the tears glistened in +the blind eyes of the elder girl--and then came the wonderful mysterious +song of that Adagio in C sharp minor, which rose and fell and soared again +to Heaven. Such revelation of human feeling strained the nerves of these +two young beings almost beyond endurance. A slight pause, and the graces of +the Minuet played around them, soothed them, brushed the tears away, and +spoke of life and youth and gladness. And then it sang on--another rushing +storm--and melody after melody followed, and wildest outbreak of the +Titan's own rugged nature, and then it cleared up into majestic +strength--imposing chords of greatness--then silence. Beethoven turned and +went as he had come, and long after he gave to the world what he saw and +felt before these two lonely children. + +[Illustration: "THE MOONLIGHT SONATA." + +FROM THE PICTURE BY ERNST OPPLER. + +By permission of the Berlin Photographic Company, 133, New Bond Street, +London, W. + +_Copyright, 1900, by Photographische Gesellschaft._] + +[Illustration: "BEETHOVEN AND GOETHE IN TEPLITZ." + +FROM THE PICTURE BY CARL RÖHLING. + +By permission of the Berlin Photographic Company, 133, New Bond Street, +London, W. + +_Copyright, 1901, by Photographische Gesellschaft._] + +The picture entitled "Beethoven and Goethe in Teplitz" illustrates an +episode which shows Beethoven in the company of Germany's greatest poet, +for whom he had an enthusiastic admiration. Beethoven's was a proud nature, +and he sometimes showed his pride in a manner which had nothing in common +with the smooth and polished manners of the aristocratic society in which +he and Goethe were wont to move. + +Beethoven and Goethe met at Teplitz, a Bohemian watering-place much +frequented by Royalties and aristocratic society. They were walking +together, when the Emperor and Empress and their suite came towards them. +Goethe, standing still, hat in hand, bowed almost to the ground, as it is +customary on the Continent. Beethoven pressed his hat tighter on his head, +let go Goethe's arm, and tried to elbow his way through the crowd; but the +Empress had seen him and greeted him smilingly as she passed on, whilst +Goethe received only the courtesy accorded to every unknown person. This is +the moment shown us by the artist. The expression of surprise in the faces +of the Royal visitors at Goethe's obsequious politeness, the indulgent +smiles which follow the irate Beethoven, are very amusing. + +Franz Schubert is the creator of the German "Lied." He was the first who +gave this kind of music a deeper meaning and a more elevated form, and, +guided by his dramatic instinct, produced such masterpieces as the +"Erlking" and the "Müller-lieder." The singer is surprised to find most of +these songs written in a very high key, and before somebody had taken the +trouble to transpose them this was, even in Germany, a drawback to their +popularity. The reason was as follows. One of Schubert's best friends was a +very popular singer in Vienna, and his tenor voice was of an exceptional +compass. Schubert wrote most of his songs for him. The painter has had the +happy idea of giving us a portrait of this man in the act of singing, while +Schubert himself is playing the accompaniment. The young lady who stands at +the other side of the piano is probably the girl of whom Schubert said: "I +loved once a girl, she was not beautiful--but, oh, so kind-hearted, good, +and loving! And she sang my songs with a most beautiful soprano voice. We +loved each other for three years, and we were happy. Then I had to give her +up. I could never succeed in getting a post which would have enabled me to +marry. I had no right to prevent her from marrying a man who could give her +a home and make her happy." It is sad that a man whom we acknowledge as one +of the greatest of musicians should be compelled to give up every thought +of the happiness which comes to even the simplest worker in another field. + +[Illustration: "SCHUBERT AND HIS FRIENDS." + +FROM THE PICTURE BY CARL RÖHLING. + +By permission of the Berlin Photographic Company, 133, New Bond Street, +London, W. + +_Copyright, 1903, by Photographische Gesellschaft._] + +The next painting illustrates a romantic episode of Schumann's life. In +1836 Robena Laidlaw, though only sixteen, was Court pianist of the Queen of +Hanover, and her fame had already spread over Germany, England, and Russia. +She played his music for him, followed his inspirations, and rejoiced at +the flights of his genius. They had tasted to the full the delight of +understanding each other in the beautiful language of music. + +[Illustration: "SCHUMANN AND ROBENA LAIDLAW." + +FROM THE WATER-COLOUR DRAWING BY J. RAABE.] + +One day they were wandering in the Rosenau--the rose-gardens of Leipzig. +The time of parting had come. His life and hers were unsettled and full of +plans and ambitions. She was to start for Paris the next day, and to go +from there to Russia to play before the Czar and the Imperial Court. Did +they realize their own feelings at the moment, or know how much akin such +friendship is to love? + +He arranged the cushions around her in the little boat upon the lake and +bade her wait for him; he would bring her a rose as a parting gift. She had +long to wait, and when he came at last he said, with that melancholy +expression which, even in his younger years, was already his: "I searched +so long and could after all only find a rose which is not worthy of you. +But I will send you a remembrance of the Rosenau." + +[Illustration: ROBENA LAIDLAW. + +FROM A PAINTING.] + +Surfeited with the triumphs which fall naturally to the share of a great +artiste and a beautiful girl, Robena found, on returning from a State +concert at St. Petersburg, among many costly gifts of jewels and flowers +which awaited her, a simple roll of music with the German postmark. It +contained the twelve _Phantasiestücke_ which are now reckoned among the +most poetical and beautiful of Schumann's works. He wrote: "I have not +asked, before sending them to the printer's, your permission to dedicate +these pieces to you. They are yours, and I hope you will accept them. The +whole Rosenau with all its romance is in them. Forget me not, and send me +your portrait soon, as you promised." + +[Illustration: "WAGNER IN HIS HOME AT WAHNFRIED." + +FROM THE PICTURE BY W. BECKMANN. + +By permission of Rud. Ibach Soln, owners of the Original.] + +Wasielewski tells in his "Schumanniana" that he heard him once, shortly +before his last illness, playing in the twilight, as he loved to do. +Melodies full of tender beauty floated around; the exquisite piece "des +Abends," the first of the _Phantasiestücke_; then reminiscences of "des +Nachts," wild and desperate, as if haunted by loneliness and terror; and +then again the sweet and tender song of the evening's silent longing. The +listener outside the door felt his heart nearly burst with emotion, but +Schumann shut the piano immediately when the door was opened, and no +allusion to what had passed was possible. Had he returned in this lonely +moment to the memories of youth? Was it a last and loving greeting to the +past? + +The great composer who gave so much to the world is long laid to rest in +the cemetery of Bonn, and the waves of the Rhine sing his eternal +slumber-song, but the _Phantasiestücke_ will live on, and sing of the +romance which was never told in words. + +Robena Laidlaw died only two years ago in London. Among the many souvenirs +of this brilliant artiste's career was found a withered rose, and written +by her on a leaflet: "Schumann gave me this rose at the Rosenau, 1836." + +Beckmann's picture represents the last of the epoch-making musicians, +Richard Wagner. We see him discussing "Parsifal," his last and grandest +work, with his wife and his two faithful friends, Liszt and Hans von +Wolzogen. Wagner was then already living in his own beautiful home in +Bayreuth, surrounded by the luxuries he so dearly loved, having as +companion the woman who understood him best. His battle had been hard, but +his ultimate conquest was decisive, and we may feel contented in the hope +that culture is in our days so widespread and advanced that genius is but +rarely exposed to pay with a life of misery for the halo of its greatness. + + + + +The OWNER of the "PATRIARCH". + +By Morley Roberts. + + +If anyone cares to look up the _Patriarch_ in Lloyd's List it will be +discovered that the owner of her was T. Tyser, but it matters very little +whether she was built of heavier plating than the rules required, or +whether she was cemented or built under special survey or what not. For T. +Tyser, otherwise Mr. Thomas Tyser, was not only the owner of the +_Patriarch_, but also the owner of a dozen other vessels all beginning with +a "P." He was, moreover, the owner of a large block of land in the heart of +Melbourne; he had several streets, of which the biggest was Tyser Street, +S.E., in London, and his banking account was certainly of heavier metal +than he had any personal use for. He was a rough dog from the north +country, and in the course of half a century's fight in London he came out +top dog in his own line and was more or less of a millionaire. + +"And he's my uncle," said Geordie Potts; "his sister was my mother, and +here I am before the stick in one of his old wind-jammers and gettin' +two-pun-ten in this here _Patriarch_ of his, and hang me if I believe the +old bloke has another relation in the world. It's hard lines, mates--it's +hard lines. Don't you allow it's hard lines?" + +It was Sunday morning in the south-east trades, and every sail was drawing +"like a bally droring-master," as Geordie once said, and the "crowd" of the +_Patriarch_ were all fairly easy in their minds and ready for a discussion. + +"_If_ so be you are 'is nevvy, as you state," said the port watch, +cautiously, "we allow it's hard lines." + +"I've stated it frequent," said Geordie, "and it's the truth, the whole +truth, and nothin' but it, so help me. D'ye think I'd claim to be old +Tyser's sister's son if I wasn't? I'd scorn to claim it." + +"Any man would scorn to be Tyser's sister's son," said the starboard watch. +"He'd scorn to be 'im unless he was, for Tyser's a mean old dog, ain't he, +Geordie?" + +Geordie thanked his watch-mates for backing him up so. + +"That's right, chaps. There's no meaner in the north of England--or the +south, for that matter--and the way this ship's found is scandalous." + +"The grub's horrid," said both watches. + +"And look at the gear," said Geordie; "everything ready to part a deal +easier than my uncle is. I never lays hold of a halliard but I'm thinking +I'll go on my back if I pulls heavy. Oh, it's a fair scandal!" + +He considered the scandal soberly and with some sadness. + +"He might leave you some dibs, Geordie," suggested his mate, Jack Braby. +"He might, after all." + +"Not a solitary dime," said Geordie. "Him and me quarrelled because my +father fought him in the street, and I hit the old hunks with a bit of a +brick because he got my dad down." + +"Wot was the row about?" asked the others, eagerly. + +"Nothin' to speak of," said Geordie. "My old man said he was a bloodsucker, +and that led to words. And I never hurt him to speak of. And yet I've +shipped in one of his ships, and am as poor as he's rich. He allowed none +of us would get a farthing; he shouted it out in the market-place and said +hospitals would get it, because one of his skippers that he'd sacked cut +him up awful with a staysail hank, and they sewed him very neat at one of +'em." + +"There's nothin' so good in a fight as a staysail 'ank," said Jack Braby, +contemplatively. "I cut a policeman all to rags wiv one once." + +"Was that the time you done three months' 'ard?" asked the port watch. + +"Six," said Braby, proudly; "and I told the beak I could do it on my 'ead. +But, Geordie, if you was owner yourself what would you do?" + +"Yes, wot?" asked the rest. + +Geordie shook his head and sighed. + +"I'd make my ships such that sailormen would be wantin' to pay to go in +'em," said Geordie. "I've laid awake thinkin' of it." + +"Oh, tell us," said all hands, with as much unanimity as if they were +tailing on to the halliards under the stimulus of "Give us some time to +blow the man down." "Tell us, Geordie." + +"I'd be friends with all my men, for one thing," said Geordie, "and I'd not +have a single Dutchman in a ship of mine." + +The three "Dutchmen" on board, one of whom was a Swede, another a German, +and the third a Finn, shifted uneasily on their chests, but said nothing. + +"And not a Dago," continued the "owner," "and I'd give double wages and +grog three times a day and tobacco thrown in. And the cook shouldn't be a +hash-spoiler, but what Frenchies call a _chef_." + +"We never heard of that. How d'ye spell it, Geordie?" + +"S--H--E--double F," said Geordie; "and it means a man that is known not to +spoil vittles, as most sea-cooks does, by the very look of him. And when it +was wet or cold the galley fire should be alight all night. And the skipper +and the mates should be told by me, and told very stern, that if they +vallied their billets a continental they'd behave like gents and not cuss +too much. And there shouldn't be no 'working up,' and any officer of mine +that was dead on 'dry pulls' on the halliards should have the sack quick. +And every time a ship of mine came into dock I'd be there, and I'd see what +the crowd's opinion was of the skipper and the mates. Oh, I'd make my ship +a Paradise, I would!" + +Most of the men nodded approval, but Braby wasn't quite satisfied. + +"And would there be grog every time of shortenin' sail, Geordie?" + +"Oh, of course," said Geordie, "and every time you made sail too." + +But an old seaman shook his head. + +"'Tis mighty fine, mates, to 'ear Geordie guff as to what 'e'd do," he +growled, "but I ain't young and I've seed men get rich, and they wasn't in +the least what they allowed they'd be. Geordie 'ere is one of hus now, and +'e feels where the shoe pinches; but if so be 'e got rotten with money 'e'd +be for calling sailormen swine as like as not. And 'e'd wear a topper." + +"You're a liar; I wouldn't," roared Geordie. + +"Maybe I am a liar," said the old chap, "but I've seen what I've looked at. +If you was to learn as your uncle was dead now, you'd go aft and set about +on the poop and see hus doin' pulley-hauley, with a seegar in your teeth. +Riches spoils a man, and it can't be helped; it 'as to, somehow. I've no +fault to find with you now, Geordie Potts; for so young a man you're a good +seaman and a good shipmate (though you _'ave_ called me a liar), but you +take my word for it, money would make an 'og of you." + +And here was matter for high debate which lasted all through the trades, +through the horse latitudes, and into the region of the brave west winds +till the _Patriarch_ had made more than half her casting. + +"So I'm to be a mean swab and a real swine when I'm rich," said Geordie. +"Oh, well, have it your own way. There's times some of you makes me feel +I'd like to make you sit up." + +"'Ear, 'ear," said the old fo'c's'le man; "there's the very 'aughty +richness workin' in his mind, shipmates. What'll the real thing do if 'is +huncle pegs out sudden?" + +It was curious to note that a certain subdued hostility rose up between +most of the men and Geordie. They sat apart and discussed him. Even Jack +Braby threw out dark and melancholy hints that they wouldn't be chums any +more if old Tyser's money came to his nephew. There were at times faint +suggestions that Geordie was getting touched with his possible prosperity. + +"I'll live ashore and have a public-house," said Geordie Potts. + +And they picked up Cape Otway light in due time, and ran through Port +Phillip Heads by-and-by, and came to an anchor off Sandridge. Presently +they berthed alongside the pier and began to discharge their cargo; and one +hot day went by like another, till they were empty and began to fill up +again with wool. In six weeks they were almost ready for sea once more. And +the very night before they hauled out from their berth and lay at anchor in +the bay, Geordie went ashore at six o'clock "all by his lonesome," as he +and Jack Braby had fought over the job which Braby was to get from his mate +when old Tyser died intestate. And as he got to the end of the pier he met +a young clerk from the agent's office who knew him by sight. + +"I say, I'm in a great hurry," said the boy; "my girl's waiting for me. +Will you take these letters to Captain Smith, or I'll miss my train back? +I'll give you a bob." + +"Righto!" said Geordie; and he pouched the shilling and the letters, and +the young fellow ran for his train. + +[Illustration: "'JERUSH,' SAID GEORDIE, 'THIS CAN'T BE ME!'"] + +"The letters can wait," said Geordie Potts, "but the bob can't, and I've +five more besides. Jack might have had his whack out of it if he hadn't +wanted to be my manager when he ain't fit for it." + +He put the letters into his pocket and made his way to the Sandridge Arms, +where he sat and drank by himself. It was seven o'clock, and he was by then +tolerably "full," before it occurred to him to see if he still had the +letters. He took them out, and the very first his eyes lighted on was one +in a long envelope addressed to + + "GEORGE POTTS, ESQ., + c/o Captain Smith, + _Patriarch_." + +"Jerush," said Geordie, "this can't be me! 'Esq.' is what they puts after +names of gents. Even the skipper don't have it after his." + +He fingered the long envelope and took another drink to consider the matter +on. + +"Snakes! it must be me," he said, as he drew confidence out of his glass; +"there's no other Potts but me." + +He was over-full by now, and he opened the letter and began to read it:-- + +"MY DEAR SIR----" + +"By all that's living," said Geordie, "me 'my dear sir'!" + +He went on reading:-- + +"MY DEAR SIR,--We regret to inform you of the sudden death of your uncle, +Mr. Thomas Tyser, on the 10th instant. He left no will, and you, as the +next of kin and heir-at-law, are entitled to all his real and personal +estate, which is, as you are doubtless aware, very large. According to our +present estimate it will amount to at least half a million sterling, and as +we have been his legal advisers for the last twenty years and know all his +affairs we can assure you that with proper management of certain +undertakings at present in our hands, it may be much more than our +estimate. In order that you may return at once we enclose you a draft on +the Union Bank of Australia for two hundred pounds, and have instructed +Captain Smith to give you your discharge, which he will, of course, do at +once. + +"We hope, as we have been so long in the confidence of Mr. Tyser, that you +will see no reason to complain of our care of your interests. + + "We are, my dear sir, + + "Your obedient servants, + + "THOMAS WIGGS AND CO." + +"My stars!" said Geordie. And he stared aghast at a square piece of paper, +which he had reason to believe represented two hundred pounds. "My stars! +what a pot o' money!" + +He gasped and took another drink. + +"I'm the owner of the _Patriarch_," he said, and grasping all the letters +and his two-hundred-pound draft he rammed them down into the bottom of his +inside breast-pocket. "I'm the owner of--hic--the--hic--_Patriarch_." + +He came out of his corner and went to the bar. + +"Gimme a drink--an expensive drink, one that'll cost five bob," he demanded +of the barman. + +"You'd better have a bottle o' brandy," said the barman. + +"I wants the best." + +"This is Hennessy's forty star brandy," said the liar behind the bar. +"There's no better in the world." + +And Geordie retreated with the bottle to his corner and took a long drink +of a poisonous compound which contained as much insanity in it as a small +lunatic asylum. He came back to the bar presently and told the barman that +he was a millionaire. + +"I own half Newcastle and a lot of Bourke Street, Melbourne, and a baker's +dozen of ships, and lumps of London!" said Geordie. + +"Lend me a thousand pounds till to-morrow," said the barman. + +"I like you--hic--I'll do it," said Geordie, and with that he fell headlong +and forgot his wealth. They dragged him outside on the veranda and let him +lie in the cool of the evening. He was picked up there two hours later by +Jack Braby and some of the starboard watch and taken on board. + +"He let on he was a millionaire," said the barman, contemptuously. + +Braby shook his head. + +"Ah, he's liable to allow that when he's full, sir," said Braby. + +But that fatal bottle kept Geordie Potts wholly insensible till they were +outside the Heads again and on their way to England, with the smoke of the +tug-boat far astern. And presently the second mate, Mr. Brose, who was a +very rough sort of dog, and had sweated his way up to his present exalted +rank from that of a foremast hand, hauled Geordie out by the collar of his +coat, and had him brought to by means of a bucketful of nice Bass's Straits +water. Geordie gasped like a dying dolphin, but came to rapidly. + +"I'll teach you to get drunk, you swab," said Brose. "Take them wet things +off and turn to." + +And Geordie obeyed like a child in the presence of _force majeure_. + +"Oh, I've got a head," he told his mates, "and it seems to me that I had a +most extraordinary dream." + +"Wot did you dream of, old Cocklywax?" asked Braby; "did you dream you'd +come in for old Tyser's money?" + +And Geordie gasped. + +"S'help me," he murmured. "S'help me, did I dream?" + +He dropped his marline-spike as if it were red hot and made a break for the +fo'c's'le and his wet coat. + +"Now if so be I dreamed," he said, "there'll be naught in this pocket. And +if I didn't, I'm jiggered." + +He put his hand in and brought out a handful of damp and crushed letters, +and came out upon deck staggering. Mr. Brose saw him, and was on his tracks +like a fish-hawk on a herring-gull. Geordie saw him coming and stood +open-mouthed. + +"Oh, sir," said Geordie. "Oh, sir----" + +"Oh, rot," said Brose; "what's your little shenanakin game? Get to work, or +I'll have you soused till you're half dead." + +But Geordie could explain nothing. + +"Oh, sir," he stammered, and held up his papers, shaking them feebly. And +Brose shook him, anything but feebly, so that Geordie's teeth chattered. + +"If you please, sir," he cried out at last, "if you please, sir, don't. I +owns her." + +"You owns wot?" demanded Brose; and the rest of the men edged as near as +they dared. + +[Illustration: "BROSE SHOOK HIS MATE ONCE MORE."] + +"He's drunk still," said Braby, as Brose shook his mate once more. + +"I owns the bally _Patriarch_," screamed Geordie, "and all the rest of 'em, +and all my uncle's richness, and I won't be shook, I won't!" + +And Brose let him go. + +"You're mad," said Brose, "you're mad." + +"I ain't," roared Geordie, who was fast recovering from the shock, "I +ain't. Take these; read 'em--read 'em out; let the skipper read 'em. I owns +the _Patriarch_ and the _Palermo_ and the _Proosian_ and the whole line. +The lawyer says so!" + +He put the lot of damp letters into Mr. Brose's hands and sat down on the +spare top-mast lashed under the rail. + +"There's letters for the captain 'ere," said Brose, suspiciously; "'ow did +you get 'em?" + +"'Twas a youngster from the office give 'em me," replied Geordie, "and I +took a drink first, and there was one for me, and it said so--said I was +the owner, said it plain." + +And when Brose had read the opened letter he gasped too and went aft to see +the skipper. The rest of the watch gathered round Geordie and spoke in +awe-struck whispers. + +"Is it true, Geordie?" + +"Gospel," said Geordie. "It's swore to. They sends me two hundred quid in a +paper." + +"Show us," said the starbowlines, "show us." + +"'Tis in the paper the second has," said Geordie. "It's wrote, 'Pay George +Potts, Esq., two hundred quid on the nail.'" + +"I'd never 'ave let the second 'ave it," said Braby. "Like as not 'e'll +keep it." + +"Then I'll sack him," said Geordie, firmly. "Let him dare try to keep it, +and I'll sack him and not pay him no wages." + +"This is a very strange game, this is," said Braby. "I never 'eard tell of +the likes. Did they put 'Esk' on your letter?" + +"They done so," said Geordie. "I've seen uncle's letters and they done so +to him." + +"Then it must be true," said Braby. "They only puts 'Esk' on gents' +letters." + +And Williams, the steward, was observed coming for'ard scratching his head. + +"Where the deuce am I?" asked Williams, "and wot's the game? I'm sent by +the captain to say, 'Will Mr. Potts step into the cabin?'" + +They all looked at Geordie. + +"Mr. Potts? Why, that's you, Geordie." + +"I s'pose it must be," said the owner. "Must I go, mates?" + +"Of course," cried Braby. + +But Geordie fidgeted. + +"I could go in if we were painting of her cabin," he murmured; "but to talk +with the skipper----" + +That evidently disgruntled him. + +"'Tis your own cabin any'ow," said Braby. "I'd walk in like a lord." + +"Well, I s'pose I must," said Geordie, reluctantly, and he went aft with +Williams. + +"And you're the owner?" asked Williams. + +Geordie sighed. + +"So it seems, stooard," he admitted. + +"It licks creation," said Williams. + +"So it does," said Geordie, and the next moment he found himself announced +as "Mr. Potts," and he stood before the captain with his cap in his hand, +looking as if he was about to be put in irons for mutiny; but, as a matter +of fact, the old skipper was a deal more nervous than he was. + +"This seems all correct, Mr. Potts," said Smith. + +"Does it, sir?" asked Geordie. "I'm very sorry, sir, but it ain't my fault, +sir. I never meant--at least, I never allowed my uncle would do it, because +my father, sir, said he was a bloodsucker, and they fought, and I hit uncle +with a brick, sir, to make him let go of father's beard." + +"Oh, yes, to be sure," said the captain, nervously, "but I'm thinking what +to do. It's a very anomalous situation for you to be here, Potts--Mr. +Potts, I mean." + +But Geordie held up his hand. + +"I'd _much_ rather be Potts, sir, thanking you all the same." + +"I couldn't do it," replied the skipper. "I was thinking that you might +like me to put back to Melbourne?" + +"Wot for, sir?" demanded the owner. + +"So that you could go home in a P. and O. boat," said old Smith. + +"Thanking you kindly, sir," replied Geordie, "I'd rather stay in the +_Patriarch_. I don't like steamers and never did." + +He had a vague notion that the skipper wanted him to go home before the +mast in one. + +"Then you wish me not to put back, Mr. Potts?" said Smith. + +"I'd very much rather not, sir," replied Geordie. "I'm very happy here, +sir, and takin' it all round the _Patriarch's_ a comfortable ship, sir. May +I go for'ard now, sir?" + +He made a step for the cabin door. + +"Oh, dear, oh, dear," said old Smith, "you mustn't; you must have a berth +here and be a passenger." + +The skipper's obvious nervousness was not without its effect upon the new +owner. For old Smith knew that if he lost his present billet he was not +likely to find another one, and he had nothing saved to speak of. So +somehow, and without knowing why, Geordie, without being in the least +disrespectful, was more decided in his answer than he would have been if +the "old man" had showed himself as hard and severe as usual. + +"Not me," said Geordie, "not me, sir; I wouldn't and I couldn't. I'd be +that uncomfortable--oh, a passenger, good evings, no!" + +"But bein' owner you _can't_ stay for'ard," urged the skipper. + +"Oh, yes, I can, sir," said Geordie; "I'd prefer it." + +Smith sighed. + +"If you prefer it, of course you must. But if you change your mind you'll +let me know." + +"Right--I will, sir," said Geordie. + +The skipper walked with him to the cabin door. + +"And if you don't want to work, Mr. Potts, I dare say we can get on without +your services, though we shall miss them," he said, anxiously. + +"I couldn't lie about and do nix," replied Geordie. "I'd die of it." + +And away he went for'ard, while the skipper and Mr. Brose and Mr. Ware, +waked out of his watch below to hear the extraordinary news, discussed the +situation. + +"And 'ave I to call 'im Mr. Potts?" asked Brose, with a pathetic air of +disgust. + +"I say so," replied the skipper. "I can't afford, Brose, as you know, to +lose this job. And old Tyser promised me a kind of marine superintendent's +billet when I left the _Patriarch_, and I dessay this young chap will act +decent about it." + +"I'm fair knocked," replied Ware. "I'm jolly glad that he ain't in my +watch. This is hard lines on you, Brose." + +"If you please, Mr. Potts, will you be so good has to be so kind has to be +so hobliging as to go and over'aul the gear on the main," piped Brose, in +furious mockery, "Oh, this is 'ard!" + +"Far from it," said old Smith; "you ought to be proud. It ain't every +second mate has a millionaire owner in his watch." + +But Brose was sullen. + +"You mark me, this josser won't do no 'and's turn that 'e don't like." + +And for'ard the crowd said the same. As a result, for at least ten days +Geordie Potts worked very well indeed. But, of course, Brose, under the +skipper's orders, gave him all the soft jobs that were going. The second +mate got into a mode of exaggerated courtesy which was almost painful. + +"Be so good, Mr. Potts, as to put a nice, neat Matthew Walker on this 'ere +lanyard." + +Or-- + +"Mr. Potts, please be kind enough to go aloft and stop that spilling line +to the jack-stay." + +And at meal times the port watch mimicked Brose. + +"Dear Mr. Potts, howner, be so good as to heat this 'orrid 'ash without +growling." + +And presently, when the weather began to get cold and the men brought out +their Cape Horn pea-jackets and their mitts, Geordie commenced to growl a +little. + +[Illustration: "'IF YOU DON'T WANT TO WORK, MR. POTTS, I DARESAY WE CAN GET +ON WITHOUT YOUR SERVICES,' HE SAID."] + +"I hates turnin' out in the gravy-eye watch worse and worse," he said. +"I've half a mind to let on I'm sick." + +"You'd better go haft and tell the old man to 'ave the galley fire kep' +alight all night," said the crowd, crossly. "But you dasn't." + +"I dast," said Geordie; "why, I owns the bally galley!" + +"You dasn't!" + +"I will," said Geordie. And next morning he went aft and touched his cap to +the skipper and begged to be allowed to speak to him. + +"The galley fire at night?" said Smith. "Oh, certainly, Mr. Potts. I never +done it because it was against the horders of your late revered huncle, +sir." + +"He was as mean as mean," said Geordie; "I think I can afford the fire, +sir." + +The fire was lighted and the crowd said Geordie was the right sort. + +"And wot about the gear, Mr. Howner?" asked Jack Braby. "If I was you, +before it gets too rotten cold I'd 'ave a real over'aulin' of things." + +"I'll think of it," said Geordie. And that very afternoon he tackled Brose. + +"The gear's tolerable rotten, sir," he began. And the second greaser knew +he was right and yet didn't like to say so. He yearned to curse him. "And +I'm thinkin'," said Geordie, "it would be a good thing to get up new stuff +and overhaul everything. I risks my life every time I goes aloft. The very +reef earings would part if a schoolgirl yanked at 'em." + +"You'd better speak to Mr. Ware," said Brose, choking. + +And at eight bells Geordie spoke to the chief officer, who was quite as +anxious as the skipper to keep his billet. + +"It shall be done, Mr. Potts," said Ware. + +In the first watch that night Geordie felt very tired, and said so. When it +was eight bells in the middle watch he was still asleep, or pretended to +be. + +"Rouse out, howner," said Braby, and he shook Geordie up. + +"I feels tolerable ill," said Geordie; "I don't think I shall turn out." + +He didn't, and the rest of the port watch went on deck by themselves. At +the muster Mr. Potts didn't answer to his name. + +"Mr. Potts is hill, sir," said the obsequious watch; "'e said 'e couldn't +turn out." + +"I thought it would come soon," said Brose to himself. And he went for'ard +to the fo'c's'le. + +"Are you _very_ ill?" he asked, drily. + +"I don't know quite how I feel," said the owner, "but I thinks a little +drop of brandy would do me good." + +"I wish I could poison it," said Brose, under his voice. "This is most +'umiliatin' to a man in the persition of an officer." + +By noon Geordie was well enough to sit on deck and smoke a pipe. The "old +man" came to see him. + +"Wouldn't you like a berth aft now, Mr. Potts?" urged the skipper. + +"I'll think about it, captain," said Geordie. "And in the meantime I don't +think I'll turn to." + +The skipper turned to Brose. + +"We can dispense with Mr. Potts's services for the time, eh, Mr. Brose?" + +"Certingly," said Brose. But he walked to the rail and spat into the great +Pacific. + +From that time onward Geordie did no work to speak of except to take his +trick at the wheel. And when they were south of the Horn he decided to do +that no longer. + +"If you'll take my wheel for the rest of the passage, I'll double your +wages," he said to Braby. And Braby jumped at the offer. In the morning +Geordie went to the poop. It was noticeable that he went up the weather +poop ladder. Except in cases of hurry and emergency such a thing is next +door to gross insubordination at sea. + +"I ain't goin' to take no more wheels," said Geordie. "And Braby will take +mine. I've doubled his wages." + +Even old Smith gasped. As for Brose, he felt sea-sick for the first time +since he first went down Channel in an outward-bounder thirty years before. + +"I'll make a note of it," said the skipper. + +They shortened sail in a quick flurry of a gale out of the south-west later +in the day, and as all the topsails were down on the cap at once it was +"jump," and no mistake. As an act of kindly condescension the owner went to +the wheel and shoved away the Dutchman there, who was congratulating +himself on not being on a topsail yard. + +"Get aloft, you Dutch swab," said Geordie; "I'll take her for you." + +And Mr. Ware bellowed like a bull, for he had a fine foretopsail voice, and +when it was a real breeze his language rose with the seas and was fine and +flowery, vigorous and ornamental, and magnificent. While he was in the +middle of a peroration which would have excited envy in Cicero, or Burke, +or a barrister with no case, he heard the owner shouting; for a private +interview with the steward had given Geordie great confidence. + +"Mr. Ware, Mr. Ware, I'd be glad if you'd cuss the men less. I don't like +it." + +The chief officer collapsed as if he were a balloon with a hole in it. And +for the next minute he and the skipper engaged in an excited conversation. + +"I can't--can't stand it," said Ware. + +"You must," said old Smith, almost tearfully. + +And Ware did stand it. But when the _Patriarch_ was shortened down and he +left the deck, he went below and swore very horribly for five minutes by +any chronometer. + +"Now I know what Brose feels," said Ware. "I've a great sympathy for poor +Brose." + +The owner ordered a tot for all hands when they came down from aloft. And +he called the cook aft and harangued him from the break of the poop. + +"Now, Mr. Spoil-Grub, mind you cook better than you've been doin', or I'll +have you ducked in a tub and set your mate to do your work." + +He turned to the skipper with a beaming smile in his blue eyes. + +"I can talk straight, can't I, cap?" he hiccoughed, blandly. "I'm thinkin' +I'll lie down in the cabin." + +And when the old man went below he found Geordie dossing in his own sacred +bunk. The poor old chap went and sat in the cabin and put his head on his +hands. + +"This is a most horrid experience," he said, mournfully. "I don't like +howners on board--I don't like 'em a bit." + +But it was not only the after-guard who suffered. Geordie shifted his +dunnage aft at last, and though when he was sober he left the skipper's +berth, he made himself very comfortable in the steward's. And he loafed +about all day on deck with his pipe in his mouth. He began to look at the +men with alien eyes. + +"I tell you they're loafin'," said he to Ware. "Don't I know 'em? They +watches you like cats, and when your eyes are off 'em they do nothin'. I'm +payin' 'em to work and I'm payin' you to make 'em. There's a leak +somewhere." + +And he addressed the crowd from the poop. + +"You're a lazy lot," he said, "that's wot you are. For two pins I'd put out +the galley fire, and I'd cut off your afternoon watch below." + +And next day he raised their wages. A week later he cut them down again. +The skipper had a hard job to keep track of what the ship owed them. + +"I wish we was home," groaned old Smith. "Oh, he'll be a terror of an +owner!" + +"I'll murder him," said Brose. + +"Wot did I tell you chaps about the 'orrid effecs of sudden richness on a +man?" asked the old fo'c's'le man for'ard. "Geordie Potts was a good sort, +but Mr. George Potts, Esquire, is an 'oly terror. 'E raises hus hup and +cuts hus down like grass." + +And it presently came about that the only time they had any peace was when +Geordie was very much intoxicated. But when they got into the calms of +Capricorn on the home stretch to the north he developed a taste for +gambling and made the old skipper sit up all night playing "brag" for huge +sums of money. + +"I lends you the dibs, and, win or lose, it's all hunky for you," said +Geordie. He made out orders to pay the "old man" several thousand pounds, +and Smith began to feel rich. Then Geordie raked Ware into the game. At +last even Brose succumbed to the lure of "I promises to pay Mr. Brose five +hundred on the nail," and joined the gamble. + +"This is a dash comfortable ship," said Geordie. "What's a few thousand to +me? I don't mind losin'. Stooard, bring rum." + +[Illustration: "HE ADDRESSED THE CROWD FROM THE POOP."] + +By the time they picked up the north-east trades poor old Smith owed the +"owner" ten thousand pounds. Ware was five thousand to the good, and Brose, +who had played poker in California, was worth fifteen thousand in strange +paper. He began to dream of a row of houses with a public-house at each +end. He and Geordie grew quite thick and compared public-house ideals. + +"I'm goin' to buy a hotel," said Geordie; "there's one in Trafalgar +Square, London, as I've in my mind. I'll fit up the bar till it fair blazes +with golden bottles." + +He borrowed the mate's clothes and had a roaring time, and then they came +into the Channel and picked up a tug, and went round the Foreland into +London river. + +"I'll bet lawyers and so on will be down to meet me," said Geordie. +"They'll be full up with gold. To think of it! And to think I hit my poor +old uncle with a brick!" + +He mourned over his brutality. + +"He wasn't half a bad chap," he said, "and I don't see what call my dad had +to call him a bloodsucker after all." + +They docked in the South-West Dock, and sure enough they had not been +alongside their berth five minutes before old Tyser's usual London agent +and a very legal-looking person came on board. + +"Let me introduce you to the new owner," said the obsequious skipper, as he +led up Geordie, who had a smile on him large enough to cut a mainsail out +of. + +"Oh," said the lawyer, "then this is Mr. Potts?" + +"That's me," said Geordie. "Have you brought any money with you? I owes Mr. +Ware five thousand and Mr. Brose fifteen." + +The lawyer smiled. + +"I'm afraid there's some mistake, Mr. Potts. Your uncle left a will after +all." + +[Illustration: "I'M AFRAID THERE'S SOME MISTAKE, MR. POTTS."] + +Geordie's jaw dropped and so did Ware's. But Brose's fell as falls the +barometer in the centre of a cyclone. + +"And me--did he leave me nothin'?" roared Geordie. + +"Oh, yes," said the solicitor. "Mr. Gray, will you kindly give me that +cash-box you are carrying?" + +And the agent handed him the cash-box. "He left you this," said the lawyer. +"And in this sealed envelope is the key." + +Geordie grabbed the box eagerly. + +"It's heavy," he said, "it's tolerable heavy." + +And putting it on the rail he opened it with the key. + +There was half a brick in it. + + + + +_Detectives at School._ + +M. BERTILLON'S NEW METHOD OF DESCRIPTIVE PORTRAITS. + +BY ALDER ANDERSON. + + +[Illustration: DETECTIVES RECEIVING A LECTURE ON THE METHOD OF +IDENTIFICATION BY NOSES. + +_From a Photo._] + +The painter and the writer, the world has been assured repeatedly by the +very highest authorities, can never encroach very far on each other's +domains. Whereas a picture conveys the same idea to every beholder, so far +at least as the outward aspect of the personages represented is concerned, +a mere description can only give such vague and hazy outlines that the +ideas of no two readers need ever be identical. How is it that no critic +has ever suggested that this apparent inferiority of literature might, +perhaps, simply be lack of science on the part of the author? Such, +however, would appear to be the logical deduction to be drawn from the +innovation which M. Bertillon, after ten years' persistent efforts, has +recently succeeded in getting officially adopted by the Paris Detective +Police. + +M. Bertillon has proved that the appearance of any individual may be +expressed in terms so clear, precise, and unequivocal that identically the +same image is evoked in the mind of everybody who hears or reads the +description. With nothing else but such a description to guide him in his +search, anybody of normal intelligence is able, after a few lessons from +the inventor of the system, to unerringly pick out the person indicated +from a crowd, however great, and in an incredibly short time. The new +method materially adds to the efficacy of the anthropometrical system of +identification, with which the name of Bertillon, the inventor of the +"thumb-prints" method, is inseparably connected. A brief outline of that +system may here be given. + +The variety of Nature is infinite; she never repeats herself. No two leaves +are ever precisely alike, much less two human beings. A superficial +observer may fancy that two individuals resemble each other in a remarkable +manner. Let him examine them more attentively; he will find that they +differ radically in almost every detail. The farther he carries his +examination the more numerous and the more conspicuous will the differences +appear, until at last he may almost experience a difficulty in discovering +any trace of the resemblance that before seemed so striking. This is a +_résumé_ of some of the principal axioms at the base of M. Bertillon's +teaching. + +Every person, then, who for one reason or another comes within the power of +the law in France and in some other countries is photographed and measured +in prevision of his transgressing on some future occasion. + +[Illustration: THESE ARE THE PORTRAITS OF A CRIMINAL, TAKEN IN PROFILE AND +FULL FACE.] + +[Illustration: THIS IS THE SAME CRIMINAL, WHO WAS IDENTIFIED BY A DETECTIVE +AND ARRESTED ON THE EVIDENCE OF HIS EARS.] + +The complete description and measurements are transferred to a piece of +thin cardboard, on which are also pasted two photographs of the +subject--one full face, the other in profile, both reduced to one-seventh +of life size. This is termed the prisoner's "fiche," which is now put away +for future reference. Every year about twelve thousand "fiches" are thus +added to the collection in Paris. In ten years this means one hundred and +twenty thousand; in twenty years nearly a quarter of a million. + +Let us assume now that a crime has been committed. All the evidence tends +to prove that the culprit is none other than a certain man who passed +through M. Bertillon's hands some years ago. His "fiche" is taken out, and +copies of the photograph on it are distributed in the usual quarters. This +old photograph is the only guide the police have by which to identify the +fugitive. In the interval that has elapsed since it was taken, however, the +man's outward appearance may have so completely changed that he might now +walk under the very nose of the cleverest detectives in Europe, trained in +the old school, without being recognised. Just such a case occurred quite +recently in Paris, and was specially taken in hand by one of the most +experienced men the "Sûreté" possessed at the time, but without result. Six +months later a comparatively inexperienced detective arrested the criminal, +who was on the point of embarking for America. Trained by M. Bertillon's +new method to concentrate his attention exclusively on features which +hardly ever vary, and to neglect entirely such accidental details as the +fashion of wearing the hair and beard and the apparel, he had at once +recognised the person he was in search of by the characteristic shape of +ears and nose. This case is given in the accompanying photographs. + +The contrary case to the foregoing instance--that is to say, the arrest of +an innocent man, on the ground that he resembled a photograph in the +detective's possession--used to be an all too frequent occurrence. Not even +the very keenest of the law's sleuthhounds were able to avoid such +mistakes. A good example is shown in the photographs next reproduced. +Innumerable instances, too, are recorded of people claiming, as that of a +brother, a husband, or a son who had disappeared, a body which, had they +but been M. Bertillon's pupils for an hour, they could never by any +possibility have confounded with their missing relative. So persuaded have +women often been of the accuracy of their own judgment that there have been +cases in which they have at first indignantly repudiated the husband or son +who subsequently reappears on the scene in flesh and blood and seeks to +prove that he is not dead after all. + +A detective is now taught that he must use the photograph he is supplied +with merely as a check, to make assurance doubly sure, before he ventures +on an arrest. What he must principally rely upon is the visual portrait he +can evoke in his own imagination, a portrait which, he is told, is only +valuable so far as he is able to describe it in words. That which we cannot +clearly describe we cannot clearly conceive, is the pith of M. Bertillon's +teaching. The pupil is, consequently, made to analyze each feature of the +photograph separately, and express the result in certain conventional +formulæ that convey a definite meaning to his own mind and to the mind of +everybody else who has studied the same method. He makes, in fact, "a +portrait in words." + +The feature that presents the greatest diversity of form and size is the +ear, and, strangely enough, the ear is precisely a feature which we hardly +ever consciously look at. It has been reserved for M. Bertillon to point +out how admirably it is adapted for the purpose of establishing a person's +identity. The size of the ear, the relative proportions to one another of +the folds, its contour, the surface and shape of the lobe, the manner the +lobe is attached to the cheek, and the inclination of the bottom interior +ridge known as the antitragus differ most materially in every individual. +Let a modern French detective describe an ear as "Deq. cav. vex. tra. sep"; +all his colleagues are immediately able to form a mental image of the +description of ear he means. + +[Illustration: THESE ARE THE PORTRAITS OF A CRIMINAL.] + +[Illustration: THESE ARE PORTRAITS OF AN INNOCENT MAN WHO WAS ARRESTED BY +AN UNTRAINED DETECTIVE AS BEING THE SAME MAN, BUT HIS EARS ALONE WERE +SUFFICIENT TO ACQUIT HIM.] + +Similarly for the nose, of which three main varieties are recognised, +according as the line of the back is concave, rectilinear, or convex. Each +of these three principal classes is divided into three divisions according +to the direction of the base line--ascending, horizontal, or descending. +The degree of concavity or convexity of the line of the nose, as well as +the degree in which the base line descends or mounts, is indicated in very +simple fashion by putting the term denoting the form into brackets or +underlining it. Thus a moderately concave-backed nose is expressed by the +abbreviation "cav."; if the concavity is very slightly marked by (cav.); +and, if very accentuated, by _cav._ Noses of which the line is very sinuous +or arched are denoted by the abbreviations "s" and "a." A nose described as +_cav._ (s) would have a very strongly-marked concavity and be slightly +sinuous, whereas (cav.) _s_ would denote a nose but slightly concave, but +with a very sinuous outline. The form of the root of the nose is also +indicated in similar fashion to the back and base. So much for the shape of +the nose. Its dimensions relatively to the face, its width, length, and +degree of projection, are also indicated, for it is evident that size is +quite independent of shape. + +The degree of inclination of the forehead is another feature that is noted, +as well as the general aspect of the complexion, colour of hair and eyes, +and anything about the face that is in the least abnormal. + +The entire course of instruction in "word-portraits" extends over thirty +lessons of two hours each. At the end of the course an examination is held, +in which the pupil must acquit himself honourably in the practical tests +imposed upon him, if he wishes to obtain the coveted certificate, without +which he can now hope for no promotion. Several hundred persons are +assembled; with the exception of a few privileged strangers, almost all are +connected directly or indirectly with the various services of the police +administration. M. Bertillon or his principal lieutenant, M. Payen, hands a +slip of paper to the candidate, containing some such brief indications as +the following: "R--cav. (deq.) cav. × 1·62. O. 1878." "Pick out the person +to whom this refers," adds the examiner. In an incredibly short space of +time one of the audience finds himself "under arrest." The figures 1·62, it +may be said, denote the person's height; "O" stands for orange-coloured +eyes; and 1878 denotes, approximately, the year of birth--that is, that he +is now about twenty-six years of age. + +[Illustration: DIFFERENT TYPES OF EARS FROM THE CLASSIFICATION-BOOK.] + +We have the authority of our cleverest modern humorist for the statement +that the burglar and the cut-throat like a little innocent amusement +occasionally; what wonder, then, if the austere detective does also? His +chiefs, therefore, thoughtfully turn these examinations into occasions of +grave merry-making by giving one or other of the examinees a descriptive +portrait of some high functionary, perhaps of the Prefect of Police +himself, should he be present. The fledgeling is thus placed in a dilemma; +he must either display his incompetence or do violence to all his notions +of respect for the official hierarchy, and put a disrespectful hand on one +of the few shoulders in the world that he has looked upon as sacred. The +manner in which the luckless wight acquits himself of his invidious task +forms the theme of many a conversation in the "highest detective circles" +of the French capital for the next week or so. + +M. Bertillon has recently compiled an album containing about fifteen +hundred photographs of the most notorious French criminals, classified +exclusively by the shape of their ears and noses and their height. The man +whose portrait figures in this blackest of black books has, at any rate, +the satisfaction of knowing that his physiognomy will not disappear from +the world without leaving some memories behind it. + +Other black books contain portraits of foreigners of different +nationalities. The writer was allowed to peep into that relating to +"English and American" malefactors who are at loggerheads with the Paris +Prefecture of Police, and was patriotically pleased to find that their +total number--five hundred--is only one-fifth that of the Belgians. A very +large proportion, too, of these _soi-disant_ English and American citizens, +if their names are any criterion, might be Russians, Danes, Turks, or +Prussians, but are certainly not Englishmen. Anglo-Saxondom may flatter +herself that, in so far as France is concerned, she is a most exemplary +race. + +When the practice of portraits in words becomes generalized, as will no +doubt very soon be the case, members of all those professions at which the +laws of most countries persist in looking askance will have but a sorry +time, if, indeed, they are able to subsist at all. Within the space of an +hour or two telegraph and telephone will have carried a brief but +unmistakable word-portrait of them to every corner of the civilized world +if necessary. In large towns like London and Paris, twenty thousand pairs +of trained eyes, covering the entire area of the city, can be set +simultaneously on the search for the fugitive murderer or burglar, who will +discover that the old methods of disguise are of but little use to him. A +rumour that certain London banks contemplated having all their _employés_ +measured and photographed on M. Bertillon's system caused a considerable +amount of murmuring recently, the measure being considered as somewhat +derogatory by the clerks. By this extension of the method, however, their +portraits can be taken without their knowledge, since neither camera nor +measuring rule is necessary. Absconding cashiers will, in future, therefore +have to be remarkably circumspect in their choice of foreign residence. +Impostors like the claimant to the Tichborne estates, whose trial convulsed +the Anglo-Saxon world over thirty years ago, will be given short shrift. It +may be remarked, however, that one of the principal points brought forward +at the trial to prove that the Claimant was not the man he pretended to be +was precisely that the lobe of his ear was quite differently formed to the +lobe of the real Roger Tichborne. This only proves once more the old adage +that under the sun there is nothing new. + +[Illustration: DETECTIVES RECEIVING A LESSON ON EARS. + +_From a Photo._] + +The writer would here express his thanks to M. Lepine, the Prefect of +Police, and M. Bertillon for their extreme courtesy in acceding to his +request to be allowed to attend the course of lessons, and also for +permission to use the photographs now reproduced. + + + + +DIALSTONE LANE[A] + +BY W. W. JACOBS + + +CHAPTER VII. + +Mr. Chalk made but a poor breakfast next morning, the effort to display a +feeling of proper sympathy with Mrs. Chalk, who was presiding in gloomy +silence at the coffee-pot, and at the same time to maintain an air of +cheerful innocence as to the cause of her behaviour, being almost beyond +his powers. He chipped his egg with a painstaking attempt to avoid noise, +and swallowed each mouthful with a feeble pretence of not knowing that she +was watching him as he ate. Her glance conveyed a scornful reproach that he +could eat at all in such circumstances, and, that there might be no mistake +as to her own feelings, she ostentatiously pushed the toast-rack and +egg-stand away from her. + +"You--you're not eating, my dear," said Mr. Chalk. + +"If I ate anything it would choke me," was the reply. + +Mr. Chalk affected surprise, but his voice quavered. To cover his +discomfiture he passed his cup up for more coffee, shivering despite +himself, as he noticed the elaborate care which Mrs. Chalk displayed in +rinsing out the cup and filling it to the very brim. Beyond raising her +eyes to the ceiling when he took another piece of toast, she made no sign. + +"You're not looking yourself," ventured Mr. Chalk, after a time. + +His wife received the information in scornful silence. + +"I've noticed it for some time," said the thoughtful husband, making +another effort. "It's worried me." + +"I'm not getting younger, I know," assented Mrs. Chalk. "But if you think +that that's any excuse for your goings on, you're mistaken." + +Mr. Chalk murmured something to effect that he did not understand her. + +"You understand well enough," was the reply. "When that girl came whistling +over the fence last night you said you thought it was a bird." + +"I did," said Mr. Chalk, hastily taking a spoonful of egg. + +Mrs. Chalk's face flamed. "What sort of bird?" she demanded. + +"Singin' bird," replied her husband, with nervous glibness. + +Mrs. Chalk left the room. + +Mr. Chalk finished his breakfast with an effort, and then, moving to the +window, lit his pipe and sat for some time in moody thought. A little +natural curiosity as to the identity of the fair whistler would, however, +not be denied, and the names of Binchester's fairest daughters passed in +review before him. Almost unconsciously he got up and surveyed himself in +the glass. + +"There's no accounting for tastes," he said to himself, in modest +explanation. + +His mind still dwelt on the subject as he stood in the hall later on in the +morning, brushing his hat, preparatory to taking his usual walk. Mrs. +Chalk, upstairs listening, thought that he would never have finished, and +drew her own conclusions. + +With the air of a man whose time hangs upon his hands Mr. Chalk sauntered +slowly through the narrow by-ways of Binchester. He read all the notices +pasted on the door of the Town Hall and bought some stamps at the +post-office, but the morning dragged slowly, and he bent his steps at last +in the direction of Tredgold's office, in the faint hope of a little +conversation. + +To his surprise, Mr. Tredgold senior was in an unusually affable mood. He +pushed his papers aside at once, and, motioning his visitor to a chair, +greeted him with much heartiness. + +"Just the man I wanted to see," he said, cheerfully. "I want you to come +round to my place at eight o'clock to-night. I've just seen Stobell, and +he's coming too." + +"I will if I can," said Mr. Chalk. + +"You must come," said the other, seriously. "It's business." + +"Business!" said Mr. Chalk. "I don't see----" + +"You will to-night," said Mr. Tredgold, with a mysterious smile. "I've sent +Edward off to town on business, and we sha'n't be interrupted. Good-bye. +I'm busy." + +He shook hands with his visitor and led him to the door; Chalk, after a +vain attempt to obtain particulars, walked slowly home. + +Despite his curiosity it was nearly half-past eight when he arrived at Mr. +Tredgold's that evening, and was admitted by his host. The latter, with a +somewhat trite remark about the virtues of punctuality, led the way +upstairs and threw open the door of his study. + +"Here he is," he announced. + +A slender figure sitting bolt upright in a large grandfather-chair turned +at their entrance, and revealed to the astonished Mr. Chalk the expressive +features of Miss Selina Vickers; facing her at the opposite side of the +room Mr. Stobell, palpably ruffled, eyed her balefully. + +"This is a new client of mine," said Tredgold, indicating Miss Vickers. + +Mr. Chalk said "Good evening." + +"I tried to get a word with you last night," said Miss Vickers. "I was down +at the bottom of your garden whistling for over ten minutes as hard as I +could whistle. I wonder you didn't hear me." + +"_Hear_ you!" cried Mr. Chalk, guiltily conscious of a feeling of +disappointment quite beyond his control. "What do you mean by coming and +whistling for me, eh? What do you mean by it?" + +"I wanted to see you private," said Miss Vickers, calmly, "but it's just as +well. I went and saw Mr. Tredgold this morning instead." + +"On a matter of business," said Mr. Tredgold, looking at her. "She came to +me, as one of the ordinary public, about some--ha--land she's interested +in." + +"An island," corroborated Miss Vickers. + +[Illustration: "'THIS IS A NEW CLIENT OF MINE,' SAID TREDGOLD."] + +Mr. Chalk took a chair and looked round in amazement. "What, another?" he +said, faintly. + +Mr. Tredgold coughed. "My client is not a rich woman," he began. + +"Chalk knows that," interrupted Mr. Stobell. "The airs and graces that girl +will give herself if you go on like that----" + +"But she has some property there which she is anxious to obtain," continued +Mr. Tredgold, with a warning glance at the speaker. "That being so----" + +"Make him wish he may die first," interposed Miss Vickers, briskly. + +"Yes, yes; that's all right," said Tredgold, meeting Mr. Chalk's startled +gaze. + +"It will be when he's done it," retorted the determined Miss Vickers. + +"It's a secret," explained Mr. Tredgold, addressing his staring friend. +"And you must swear to keep it if it's told you. That's what she means. +I've had to and so has Stobell." + +A fierce grunt from Mr. Stobell, who was still suffering from the +remembrance of an indignity against which he had protested in vain, came as +confirmation. Then the marvelling Mr. Chalk rose, and instructed by Miss +Vickers took an oath, the efficacy of which consisted in a fervent hope +that he might die if he broke it. + +"But what's it all about?" he inquired, plaintively. + +Mr. Tredgold conferred with Miss Vickers, and that lady, after a moment's +hesitation, drew a folded paper from her bosom and beckoned to Mr. Chalk. +With a cry of amazement he recognised the identical map of Bowers's Island, +which he had last seen in the hands of its namesake. It was impossible to +mistake it, although an attempt to take it in his hand was promptly +frustrated by the owner. + +"But Captain Bowers said that he had burnt it," he cried. + +Mr. Tredgold eyed him coldly. "Burnt what?" he inquired. + +"The map," was the reply. + +"Just so," said Tredgold. "You told me he had burnt a map." + +"Is this another, then?" inquired Mr. Chalk. + +"P'r'aps," said Miss Vickers, briefly. + +"As the captain said he had burnt his, this _must_ be another," said +Tredgold. + +"Didn't he burn it, then?" inquired Mr. Chalk. + +"I should be sorry to disbelieve Captain Bowers," said Tredgold. + +"Couldn't be done," said the brooding Stobell, "not if you tried." + +Mr. Chalk sat still and eyed them in perplexity. + +"There is no doubt that this map refers to the same treasure as the one +Captain Bowers had," said Tredgold, with the air of one making a generous +admission. "My client has not volunteered any statement as to how it came +into her possession----" + +"And she's not going to," put in Miss Vickers, dispassionately. + +"It is enough for me that we have got it," resumed Mr. Tredgold. "Now, we +want you to join us in fitting out a ship and recovering the treasure. +Equal expenses; equal shares." + +"What about Captain Bowers?" inquired Mr. Chalk. + +"He is to have an equal share without any of the expense," said Tredgold. +"You know he gave us permission to find it if we could, so we are not +injuring anybody." + +"He told us to go and find it, if you remember," said Stobell, "and we're +going to." + +"He'll have a fortune handed to him without any trouble or being +responsible in any way," said Tredgold, impressively. "I should like to +think there was somebody working to put a fortune like that into my lap. We +shall have a fifth each." + +"That'll be five--thousand--pounds for you, Selina," said Mr. Stobell, with +a would-be benevolent smile. + +Miss Vickers turned a composed little face upon him and languidly closed +one eye. + +"I had two prizes for arithmetic when I was at school," she remarked; "and +don't you call me Selina, unless you want to be called Bobbie." + +A sharp exclamation from Mr. Tredgold stopped all but the first three words +of Mr. Stobell's retort, but he said the rest under his breath with +considerable relish. + +"Don't mind him," said Miss Vickers. "I'm half sorry I let him join, now. A +man that used to work for him once told me that he was only half a +gentleman, but he'd never seen that half." + +Mr. Stobell, afraid to trust himself, got up and leaned out of the window. + +"Well, we're all agreed, then," said Tredgold, looking round. + +"Half a second," said Miss Vickers. "Before I part with this map you've all +got to sign a paper promising me my proper share, and to give me twenty +pounds down." + +Mr. Tredgold hesitated and looked serious. Mr. Chalk, somewhat dazed by the +events of the evening, blinked at him solemnly. Mr. Stobell withdrew his +head from the window and spoke. + +"TWENTY--POUNDS!" he growled. + +"Twenty pounds," repeated Miss Vickers, "or four hundred shillings, if you +like it better. If you wait a moment I'll make it pennies." + +She leaned back in her chair and, screwing her eyes tight, began the +calculation. "Twelve noughts are nought," she said, in a gabbling whisper; +"twelve noughts are nought, twelve fours are forty----" + +"All right," said Mr. Tredgold, who had been regarding this performance +with astonished disapproval. "You shall have the twenty pounds, but there +is no necessity for us to sign any paper." + +"No, there's no necessity," said Miss Vickers, opening her small, sharp +eyes again, "only, if you don't do it, I'll find somebody that will." + +[Illustration: "MR. TREDGOLD PREPARED TO DRAW UP THE REQUIRED AGREEMENT."] + +Mr. Tredgold argued with her, but in vain; Mr. Chalk, taking up the +argument and expanding it, fared no better; and Mr. Stobell, opening his +mouth to contribute his mite, was quelled before he could get a word out. + +"Them's my terms," said Miss Vickers; "take 'em or leave 'em, just as you +please. I give you five minutes by the clock to make up your minds; Mr. +Stobell can have six, because thinking takes him longer. And if you agree +to do what's right--and I'm letting you off easy--Mr. Tredgold is to keep +the map and never to let it go out of his sight for a single instant." + +She put her head round the side of the chair to make a note of the time, +and then, sitting upright with her arms folded, awaited their decision. +Before the time was up the terms were accepted, and Mr. Tredgold, drawing +his chair to the table, prepared to draw up the required agreement. + +He composed several, but none which seemed to give general satisfaction. At +the seventh attempt, however, he produced an agreement which, alluding in +vague terms to a treasure quest in the Southern Seas on the strength of a +map provided by Miss Vickers, promised one-fifth of the sum recovered to +that lady, and was considered to meet the exigencies of the case. Miss +Vickers herself, without being enthusiastic, said that she supposed it +would have to do. + +Another copy was avoided, but only with great difficulty, owing to her +criticism of Mr. Stobell's signature. It took the united and verbose +efforts of Messrs. Chalk and Tredgold to assure her that it was in his +usual style, and rather a good signature for him than otherwise. Miss +Vickers, viewing it with her head on one side, asked whether he couldn't +make his mark instead; a question which Mr. Stobell, at the pressing +instance of his friends, left unanswered. Then Tredgold left the room to +pay a visit to his safe, and, the other two gentlemen turning out their +pockets, the required sum was made up, and with the agreement handed to +Miss Vickers in exchange for the map. + +She bade them good-night, and then, opening the door, paused with her hand +on the knob and stood irresolute. + +"I hope I've done right," she said, somewhat nervously. "It was no good to +anybody laying idle and being wasted. I haven't stolen anything." + +"No, no," said Tredgold, hastily. + +"It seems ridiculous for all that money to be wasted," continued Miss +Vickers, musingly. "It doesn't belong to anybody, so nobody can be hurt by +our taking it, and we can do a lot of good with it, if we like. I shall +give some of mine away to the poor. We all will. I'll have it put in this +paper." + +She fumbled in her bodice for the document, and walked towards them. + +"We can't alter it now," said Mr. Tredgold, decidedly. + +"We'll do what's right," said Mr. Chalk, reassuringly. + +Miss Vickers smiled at him. "Yes, I know _you_ will," she said, graciously, +"and I think Mr. Tredgold will, but----" + +"You're leaving that door open," said Mr. Stobell, coldly, "and the +draught's blowing my head off, pretty near." + +Miss Vickers eyed him scornfully, but in the absence of a crushing reply +disdained one at all. She contented herself instead by going outside and +closing the door after her with a sharpness which stirred every hair on his +head. + +"It's a most extraordinary thing," said Mr. Chalk, as the three bent +exultingly over the map. "I could ha' sworn to this map in a court of +justice." + +"Don't you worry your head about it," advised Mr. Stobell. + +"You've got your way at last," said Tredgold, with some severity. "We're +going for a cruise with you, and here you are raising objections." + +"Not objections," remonstrated the other; "and, talking about the voyage, +what about Mrs. Chalk? She'll want to come." + +"So will Mrs. Stobell," said that lady's proprietor, "but she won't." + +"She mustn't hear of it till the last moment," said Tredgold, +dictatorially; "the quieter we keep the whole thing the better. You're not +to divulge a word of the cruise to anybody. When it does leak out it must +be understood we are just going for a little pleasure jaunt. Mind, you've +sworn to keep the whole affair secret." + +Mr. Chalk screwed up his features in anxious perplexity, but made no +comment. + +"The weather's fine," continued Tredgold, "and there's nothing gained by +delay. On Wednesday we'll take the train to Biddlecombe and have a look +round. My idea is to buy a small, stout sailing-craft second-hand; ship a +crew ostensibly for a pleasure trip, and sail as soon as possible." + +Mr. Chalk's face brightened. "And we'll take some beads, and guns, and +looking-glasses, and trade with the natives in the different islands we +pass," he said, cheerfully. "We may as well see something of the world +while we're about it." + +Mr. Tredgold smiled indulgently and said they would see. Messrs. Stobell +and Chalk, after a final glance at the map and a final perusal of the +instructions at the back, took their departure. + +"It's like a dream," said the latter gentleman, as they walked down the +High Street. + +"That Vickers girl ud like more dreams o' the same sort," said Mr. Stobell, +as he thrust his hand in his empty pocket. + +"It's all very well for you," continued Mr. Chalk, uneasily. "But my wife +is sure to insist upon coming." + +Mr. Stobell sniffed. "I've got a wife too," he remarked. + +"Yes," said Mr. Chalk, in a burst of unwonted frankness, "but it ain't +quite the same thing. I've got a wife and Mrs. Stobell has got a +husband--that's the difference." + +Mr. Stobell pondered this remark for the rest of the way home. He came to +the conclusion that the events of the evening had made Mr. Chalk a little +light-headed. + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +Until he stood on the platform on Wednesday morning with his brother +adventurers Mr. Chalk passed the time in a state of nervous excitement, +which only tended to confirm his wife in her suspicions of his behaviour. +Without any preliminaries he would burst out suddenly into snatches of +sea-songs, the "Bay of Biscay" being an especial favourite, until Mrs. +Chalk thought fit to observe that, "if the thunder did roar like that she +should not be afraid of it." Ever sensitive to a fault, Mr. Chalk fell back +upon "Tom Bowling," which he thought free from openings of that sort, until +Mrs. Chalk, after commenting upon the inability of the late Mr. Bowling to +hear the tempest's howling, indulged in idle speculations as to what he +would have thought of Mr. Chalk's. Tredgold and Stobell bought papers on +the station, but Mr. Chalk was in too exalted a mood for reading. The +bustle and life as the train became due were admirably attuned to his +feelings, and when the train drew up and they embarked, to the clatter of +milk-cans and the rumbling of trolleys, he was beaming with satisfaction. + +"I feel that I can smell the sea already," he remarked. + +Mr. Stobell put down his paper and sniffed; then he resumed it again and, +meeting Mr. Tredgold's eye over the top of it, sniffed more loudly than +before. + +"Have you told Edward that you are going to sea?" inquired Mr. Chalk, +leaning over to Tredgold. + +[Illustration: "'FINE DAY, GENTLEMEN,' SAID THE STRANGER, AS HE RAISED HIS +GLASS."] + +"Certainly not," was the reply; "I don't want anybody to know till the last +possible moment. You haven't given your wife any hint as to why you are +going to Biddlecombe to-day, have you?" + +Mr. Chalk shook his head. "I told her that you had got business there, and +that I was going with you just for the outing," he said. "What she'll say +when she finds out----" + +His imagination failed him and, a prey to forebodings, he tried to divert +his mind by looking out of window. His countenance cleared as they neared +Biddlecombe, and, the line running for some distance by the side of the +river, he amused himself by gazing at various small craft left high and dry +by the tide. + +A short walk from the station brought them to the mouth of the river which +constitutes the harbour of Biddlecombe. For a small port there was a goodly +array of shipping, and Mr. Chalk's pulse beat faster as his gaze wandered +impartially from a stately barque in all the pride of fresh paint to dingy, +sea-worn ketches and tiny yachts. + +Uncertain how to commence operations, they walked thoughtfully up and down +the quay. If any of the craft were for sale there was nothing to announce +the fact, and the various suggestions which Mr. Chalk threw off from time +to time as to the course they should pursue were hardly noticed. + +"One o'clock," said Mr. Stobell, extracting a huge silver timepiece from +his pocket, after a couple of wasted hours. + +"Let's have something to eat before we do any more," said Mr. Tredgold. +"After that we'll ferry over and look at the other side." + +They made their way to the King of Hanover, an old inn, perched on the side +of the harbour, and, mounting the stairs, entered the coffee-room, where +Mr. Stobell, after hesitating for some time between the rival claims of +roast beef and grilled chops, solved the difficulty by ordering both. + +The only other occupant of the room, a short, wiry man, with a +close-shaven, hard-bitten face, sat smoking, with a glass of whisky before +him, in a bay window at the end of the room, which looked out on the +harbour. There was a maritime flavour about him which at once enlisted Mr. +Chalk's sympathies and made him overlook the small, steely-grey eyes and +large and somewhat brutal mouth. + +"Fine day, gentlemen," said the stranger, nodding affably to Mr. Chalk as +he raised his glass. + +Mr. Chalk assented, and began a somewhat minute discussion upon the +weather, which lasted until the waiter appeared with the lunch. + +"Bring me another drop o' whisky, George," said the stranger, as the latter +was about to leave the room, "and a little stronger, d'ye hear? A man might +drink this and still be in the Band of Hope." + +"We thought it wouldn't do for you to get the chuck out of it after all +these years, Cap'n Brisket," said George, calmly. "It's a whisky that's +kept special for teetotalers like you." + +Captain Brisket gave a hoarse laugh and winked at Mr. Stobell; that +gentleman, merely pausing to empty his mouth and drink half a glass of +beer, winked back. + +"Been here before, sir?" inquired the captain. + +Mr. Stobell, who was busy again, left the reply to Mr. Chalk. + +"Several times," said the latter. "I'm very fond of the sea." + +Captain Brisket nodded, and, taking up his glass, moved to the end of their +table, with the air of a man disposed to conversation. + +"There's not much doing in Biddlecombe nowadays," he remarked, shaking his +head. "Trade ain't what it used to be; ships are more than half their time +looking for freights. And even when they get them they're hardly worth +having." + +Mr. Chalk started and, leaning over, whispered to Mr. Tredgold. + +"No harm in it," said the latter. "Better leave it to me. Shipping's dull, +then?" he inquired, turning to Captain Brisket. + +"Dull?" was the reply. "Dull ain't no name for it." + +Mr. Tredgold played with a salt-spoon and frowned thoughtfully. + +"We've been looking round for a ship this morning," he said, slowly. + +"As passengers?" inquired the captain, staring. + +"As owners," put in Mr. Chalk. + +Captain Brisket, greatly interested, drew first his glass and then his +chair a yard nearer. "Do you mean that you want to buy one?" he inquired. + +"Well, we might if we could get one cheap," admitted Tredgold, cautiously. +"We had some sort of an idea of a cruise to the South Pacific; pleasure, +with perhaps a little trading mixed up with it. I suppose some of these old +schooners can be picked up for the price of an old song?" + +The captain, grating his chair along the floor, came nearer still; so near +that Mr. Stobell instinctively put out his right elbow. + +"You've met just the right man," said Captain Brisket, with a boisterous +laugh. "I know a schooner, two hundred and forty tons, that is just the +identical article you're looking for, good as new and sound as a bell. Are +you going to sail her yourself?" + +"No," said Mr. Stobell, without looking up, "he ain't." + +"Got a master?" demanded Captain Brisket, with growing excitement. "Don't +tell me you've got a master." + +"Why not?" growled Mr. Stobell, who, having by this time arrived at the +cheese, felt that he had more leisure for conversation. + +"Because," shouted the other, hitting the table a thump with his fist that +upset half his whisky--"because if you haven't Bill Brisket's your man." + +The three gentlemen received this startling intelligence with such a lack +of enthusiasm that Captain Brisket was fain to cover what in any other man +might have been regarded as confusion by ringing the bell for George and +inquiring with great sternness of manner why he had not brought him a full +glass. + +"We can't do things in five minutes," said Mr. Tredgold, after a long and +somewhat trying pause. "First of all we've got to get a ship." + +"The craft you want is over the other side of the harbour waiting for you," +said the captain, confidently. "We'll ferry over now if you like, or, if +you prefer to go by yourselves, do; Bill Brisket is not the man to stand in +anyone's way, whether he gets anything out of it or not." + +"Hold hard," said Mr. Stobell, putting up his hand. + +Captain Brisket regarded him with a beaming smile; Mr. Stobell's two +friends waited patiently. + +"What ud a schooner like that fetch?" inquired Mr. Stobell. + +"It all depends," said Brisket. "Of course, if I buy--" + +Mr. Stobell held up his hand again. "All depends whether you buy it for us +or sell it for the man it belongs to, I s'pose?" he said, slowly. + +Captain Brisket jumped up, and to Mr. Chalk's horror smote the speaker +heavily on the back. Mr. Stobell, clenching a fist the size of a leg of +mutton, pushed his chair back and prepared to rise. + +"You're a trump," said Captain Brisket, in tones of unmistakable respect, +"that's what you are. Lord, if I'd got the head for business you have I +should be a man of fortune by now." + +Mr. Stobell, who had half risen, sat down again, and, for the first time +since his last contract but one, a smile played lightly about the corners +of his mouth. He took another drink and, shaking his head slightly as he +put the glass down, smiled again with the air of a man who has been +reproached for making a pun. + +"Let me do it for you," said Captain Brisket, impressively. "I'll tell you +where to go without being seen in the matter or letting old Todd know that +I'm in it. Ask him a price and bate him down; when you've got his lowest, +come to me and give me one pound in every ten I save you." + +Mr. Tredgold looked at his friends. "If we do that," he said, turning to +the captain, "it would be to your interest to buy the ship in any case. How +are we to be sure she is seaworthy?" + +"Ah, there you are!" said Brisket, with an expansive smile. "You let me buy +for you and promise me the master's berth, provided you are satisfied with +my credentials. Common sense'll tell you I wouldn't risk my own carcass in +a rotten ship." + +Mr. Stobell nodded approval and, Captain Brisket with unexpected delicacy +withdrawing to the window and becoming interested in the harbour, conferred +for some time with his friends. The captain's offer being accepted, subject +to certain conditions, they settled their bill and made their way to the +ferry. + +"There's the schooner," said the captain, pointing, as they neared the +opposite shore; "the _Fair Emily_, and the place she is lying at is called +Todd's Wharf. Ask for Mr. Todd, or, better still, walk straight on to the +wharf and have a look at her. The old man'll see you fast enough." + +He sprang nimbly ashore as the boat's head touched the stairs, and after +extending a hand to Mr. Chalk, which was coldly ignored, led the way up the +steps to the quay. + +"There's the wharf just along there," he said, pointing up the road. "I'll +wait for you at the Jack Ashore here. Don't offer him too much to begin +with." + +"I thought of offering a hundred pounds," said Mr. Tredgold. "If the ship's +sound we can't be very much out over that sum." + +Captain Brisket stared at him. "No; don't do that," he said, recovering, +and speaking with great gravity. "Offer him seventy. Good luck." + +He watched them up the road and then, with a mysterious grin, turned into +the Jack Ashore, and taking a seat in the bar waited patiently for their +return. + +Half an hour passed. The captain had smoked one pipe and was half through +another. He glanced at the clock over the bar and fidgeted as an unpleasant +idea that the bargain, despite Mr. Tredgold's ideas as to the value of +schooners, might have been completed without his assistance occurred to +him. He took a sip from his glass, and then his face softened as the faint +sounds of a distant uproar broke upon his ear. + +"What's that?" said a customer. + +[Illustration: "HIS THREE PATRONS, WITH A HOPELESS ATTEMPT TO APPEAR +UNCONCERNED, WERE COMING DOWN THE ROAD."] + +The landlord, who was glancing at the paper, put it down and listened. +"Sounds like old Todd at it again," he said, coming round to the front of +the bar. + +The noise came closer. "It _is_ old Todd," said another customer, and +hastily finishing his beer moved with the others to the door. Captain +Brisket, with a fine air of indifference, lounged after them, and peering +over their shoulders obtained a good view of the approaching disturbance. + +His three patrons, with a hopeless attempt to appear unconcerned, were +coming down the road, while close behind a respectable-looking old +gentleman with a long, white beard and a voice like a fog-horn almost +danced with excitement. They quickened their pace as they neared the inn, +and Mr. Chalk, throwing appearances to the winds, almost dived through the +group at the door. He was at once followed by Mr. Tredgold, but Mr. +Stobell, black with wrath, paused in the doorway. + +"FETCH 'EM OUT," vociferated the old gentleman as the landlord barred the +doorway with his arms. "Fetch that red-whiskered one out and I'll eat him." + +"What's the matter, Mr. Todd?" inquired the landlord, with a glance at his +friends. "What's he done?" + +"_Done?_" repeated the excitable Mr. Todd. "Done? They come walking on to +my wharf as if the place----FETCH HIM OUT," he bawled, breaking off +suddenly. "Fetch him out and I'll skin him alive." + +Captain Brisket took Mr. Stobell by the cuff and after a slight altercation +drew him inside. + +"Tell that red-whiskered man to come outside," bawled Mr. Todd. "What's he +afraid of?" + +"What have you been doing to him?" inquired Captain Brisket, turning to the +pallid Mr. Chalk. + +"Nothing," was the reply. + +"Is he coming out?" demanded the terrible voice, "or have I got to wait +here all night? Why don't he come outside, and I'll break every bone in his +body." + +Mr. Stobell scratched his head in gloomy perplexity: then, as his gaze fell +upon the smiling countenances of Mr. Todd's fellow-townsmen, his face +cleared. + +"He's an old man," he said, slowly, "but if any of you would like to step +outside with me for five minutes, you've only got to say the word, you +know." + +Nobody manifesting any signs of accepting this offer, he turned away and +took a seat by the side of the indignant Tredgold. Mr. Todd, after a final +outburst, began to feel exhausted, and forsaking his prey with much +reluctance allowed himself to be led away. Snatches of a strong and copious +benediction, only partly mellowed by distance, fell upon the ears of the +listeners. + +"Did you offer him the seventy?" inquired Captain Brisket, turning to Mr. +Tredgold. + +"_I_ did," said Mr. Chalk, plaintively. + +"Ah," said the captain, regarding him thoughtfully; "perhaps you ought to +ha' made it eighty. He's asking eight hundred for it, I understand." + +Mr. Tredgold turned sharply. "Eight hundred?" he gasped. + +The captain nodded, "And I'm not saying it's not worth it," he said, "but I +might be able to get it for you for six. You'd better leave it to me now." + +Mr. Tredgold at first said he would have nothing more to do with it, but +under the softening influence of a pipe and a glass was induced to +reconsider his decision. Captain Brisket, waving farewells from the quay as +they embarked on the ferry-boat later on in the afternoon, bore in his +pocket the cards of all three gentlemen, together with a commission +entrusting him with the preliminary negotiations for the purchase of the +_Fair Emily_. + +[Illustration: "CAPTAIN BRISKET WAVING FAREWELLS FROM THE QUAY AS THEY +EMBARKED."] + +(_To be continued._) + +FOOTNOTES: + +[A] Copyright, 1904, by W. W. Jacobs, in the United States of America. + + + + +The ATLANTIC RIVER + +BY JULIAN DRAKE. + + [In April of last year the steamer _Miosen_, from + Christiania, sailed from New Orleans. Owing to a + damaged tail-shaft off Key West she practically drifted + from the Straits of Florida to the Färöe Islands. From + the captain's notes the following account of the Gulf + Stream voyage is transcribed.] + + +What is the greatest river in the world? Naturally every Kindergarten pupil +would instantly respond by naming the Mississippi, with the Amazon a good +second. But that is because they are deceived by geographers jealous of the +prerogative of the land. Hydrographers--as, for example, Sir John Murray, +K.C.B.--would return a different answer, and it is clear that hydrographers +ought to know something about water. + +The greatest river in the world, then, begins in the vicinity of Key West, +Florida. There is on the globe no such stupendous flow of waters. It defies +the severest droughts; in the mightiest floods it never overflows. Its +current sweeps onward more rapidly than the Mississippi or the Amazon and +its volume is a thousand times greater. Let us rid our mind of the idea of +land. The banks and the bottom of this stupendous river are of cold, whilst +its current is of warm, water. The name of it is the Gulf Stream. It might +properly be called the Atlantic River. Doubtless many hundreds, even +thousands, of craft have made the voyage down this river from its source to +its mouth, and the trip of the _Miosen_, of Christiania, Norway, is only +remarkable in this: that she virtually drifted the whole distance, four +thousand two hundred and twelve miles. The _Miosen_ is a Norwegian steamer +of one thousand two hundred and eighty tons, and carried a cargo of +molasses, rice, and tobacco from New Orleans to Christiania. + +After leaving New Orleans early in April, 1903, she encountered roughish +weather in the Gulf of Mexico. But it was not until they had passed the +Tortugas group that Captain Westrup suspected that there was anything +radically wrong with the machinery. The _Miosen_ was fitted with +old-fashioned Glasgow engines, and carried a sail in case of emergency. At +Key West she put in for four days to see if the engineer could patch up the +propeller sufficiently to enable the vessel to cross the Atlantic. "It was +at Key West," said Captain Westrup, "I met an old fellow-mariner, a Swede. + +"'Going down the river?' he asked. + +"I laughed, not understanding the joke. + +"'No; I'm crossing the Atlantic,' I replied. + +"I then told him about the fractured propeller. + +"'Take my advice,' he said, 'and go by the river route. Like as not you'll +drift the whole way, and if you're in no hurry you can give your engines a +rest. A single sheet to the wind will do your job.' + +"It was the first time I had heard the expression 'river' as applied to +the Gulf Stream. The idea entertained me. I already began to regard my +forthcoming trip as a mere jaunt down a river, and with this in my head I +took pains to note everything of interest connected with this stupendous +stream. And here let me say that two leagues to the south-east of Key West +the Gulf mariners point to a buoy labelled in prominent letters 'F. C.,' +which stands for Florida Channel. It marks the end of the Gulf of Mexico +and the beginning of the Atlantic River." + +[Illustration: THE BUOY IN FLORIDA CHANNEL.] + +The machinery of the _Miosen_ was patched up by the 5th April, and on the +following morning the crew had hoisted her solitary sail and departed from +Key West. All along south of the Florida reef they had constant glimpses of +tarpon, devil-fish, and barracuda, the mightiest fish in the Gulf Stream. +For it must be understood that whales and sharks avoid the greatest river +in the world. We will explain why later. During the next few days they +frequently saw tarpon (_Megalops Atlanticus_) six feet long, reminding one +of gigantic herring. Some of them must have weighed one hundred and fifty +pounds; and the one which nearly boarded the steamer, leaping into the air +a foot from the bows of the _Miosen_, was fully this weight. + +[Illustration: KEY WEST. + +_From a Photo. by the Photochrom Co._] + +"I had heard stories at Key West about the barracuda, which is harpooned +very much in the way whales are, although it is a somewhat smaller fish +than the tarpon. My friend Captain Altsen told me he had once gone out in a +small dinghy off the Keys with a Seminole Indian who was an adept at +spearing barracuda. Armed with a long, slender pole tipped with a barb, to +which a long rope was fastened, the native had speared the fish, which +darted away like 'greased lightning,' actually towing the boat a full mile +before he was hauled aboard exhausted. He said it was pretty exciting +sport, and jokingly suggested my engaging a school of barracuda to tow the +_Miosen_ to Stockholm. He observed, however, that they would probably leave +the ship at Tindhölm, as they only frequent the Gulf Stream. + +[Illustration: "THE FISH DARTED AWAY LIKE 'GREASED LIGHTNING.'"] + +[Illustration: PHOTOGRAPH TAKEN BY THE MATE OF THE "MIOSEN" IN LATITUDE 30, +LONGITUDE 82, SHOWING THE DIFFERENT ASPECT OF THE GREAT RIVER AND THE +OCEAN.] + +"I may mention that at the beginning our speed was between four and five +knots an hour, but we hardly averaged more than about fifty knots a day. +There was little wind to speak of. On the 8th we had a fair breeze, which +sent us along a couple of knots faster. The speed of the current is, I am +told, wholly regulated by the presence or absence of wind; but I give the +normal time. As we rounded the south coast of Florida we encountered huge +flocks of birds wending their way northward. Anything more placid and +beautiful than the Gulf Stream at this point cannot be imagined. The water +is a brilliant blue, like the Bay of Naples, while in the far distance may +be seen the dark green of the ocean. The temperature of the water I +ascertained to be seventy-four degrees Fahrenheit; that of the Atlantic +could hardly have been above forty-five degrees. Off Bebini we observed a +curious sight, which more than ever impressed the idea of a river on our +minds, and this occurred several times in the course of our long trip. The +presence of a stiff land breeze blew us out of the channel to the very edge +of the Stream, whose boundaries were here as clearly marked as that of the +Mississippi. Great quantities of driftwood and flotsam of all sorts, +including canes and palm leaves, floated in a long, thin line extending for +miles, forming natural banks to the world's greatest river. My mate took a +photograph of this phenomenon, together with others, but, unluckily, in +developing them later, all were more or less spoiled, although some idea +may be got from the one showing the aspect of the Stream. We also observed +numerous flying-fish, which, curiously enough, rarely, if ever, deviated +from the path of the Stream, as if they were quite aware of its course and +boundaries." + +[Illustration: DIAGRAM SHOWING THE COURSE OF THE GULF STREAM.] + +From this point the river flows straight to the north, pressing through the +ocean with a width of nearly thirty-seven miles, and of an average depth of +two hundred fathoms. The mass of water has been estimated at some +forty-five millions of cubic yards a second. The mean discharge of the +Mississippi is barely twenty-five thousand cubic yards. + +As the Gulf Stream expands and spreads in its northward and easterly +course, its depth becomes proportionately less considerable. The strata of +cold water which serve as its banks retire on each side and allow it more +breadth. The cold bed of water which bears it, and over which it flows, as +terrestrial rivers glide over beds of rocks, gradually approaches nearer +the surface. Off Cape Hatteras the depth is about one hundred and twenty +fathoms, and its speed does not exceed three miles an hour, but it is twice +as wide as when it emerges from the Strait of Florida. Its width is here +seventy-eight miles. Its thickness, of course, constantly diminishes until +it is only a thin sheet of warm water on the other side of the Atlantic, +and is gradually dissipated in the sub-Arctic sea. + +[Illustration: THE "CITY OF SAVANNAH," WRECKED IN THE GREAT STORMS OF +1893.] + +As the travellers proceeded almost due north the island of Great Bahama +soon came to form the eastern boundary of the Gulf Stream. In this +locality many fearful storms have occurred, for when the river is angry it +is one of the most fearful places in the world for a ship to be. It is said +that the whole of the Bahama Islands which lie scattered through the sea to +the east of the Gulf Stream rest on a foundation of submarine banks formed +by the deposits of the river. The same may be said of the islands which +line the coasts of Georgia and the Carolinas on the west. Off one of these +islands the captain distinctly made out the wreck of a large craft, +floating free on the edge of this current, which he has since been told was +the _City of Savannah_, wrecked in the great storms of 1893. Derelicts are +common in these parts, no fewer than forty having been reported last year. + +Long ago the soundings taken by the officers of the American Coast Survey +showed, according to Lieut. Maury, that the Gulf Stream flows along the +coast of America at some distance from the land. The slight inclination of +the low lands of Georgia and Carolina is continued under water till the +sounding line attains a depth of about fifty fathoms. The bottom then sinks +rapidly and forms a long valley parallel to the shore of America and the +chalky walls of the Appalachian range. In this valley, hollowed to the east +of the submarine basement of America, the Gulf Stream waters flow. Owing to +the rotatory motion of the globe and also to the curve of the coasts, the +Stream follows a constant direction to the north-east. Off New York and +Cape Cod it deviates more and more to the east. It ceases to follow the +coast-line, and rolls across the open Atlantic towards the shores of +Western Europe. Thus, as Maury says, if an enormous cannon had force enough +to send a bullet from the Strait of the Bahamas to the North Pole the +projectile would follow almost exactly the curve of the Gulf Stream and, +gradually deviating on its way, reach Europe from the west. + +[Illustration: THE SOUTH SHOAL LIGHTSHIP, WHICH MARKS THE SITE OF AN OCEAN +GRAVEYARD.] + +We have spoken of the driftwood boundaries of the Gulf Stream; but there is +an even more pronounced barrier easily ascertained by a use of the +thermometer. The warmest and most rapid part of the Gulf Stream is that in +most immediate juxtaposition to a sheet of cold water flowing in an +opposite direction off Carolina which bounds our river like a wall of ice. +Occasionally the line of demarcation is so precise that it is visible to +the naked eye, and the exact moment when a ship leaves the cold current and +its prow cleaves the Gulf Stream may be observed. The latter waters are of +a beautiful azure, that of the counter-current is greenish; one is +saturated with salt, the other contains the mineral to a far slighter +extent. But the chief distinction is that one is tepid, the other frigid as +ice. + +On the 21st one of the men reported having sighted a light to the north, +and had also clearly heard a distant bell tolling. This was probably the +South Shoal Lightship, which marks the site of an ocean graveyard +hereabouts. This lightship, with a crew of a dozen men, has been adrift +nearly thirty times in the course of her history, and was once fourteen +days in the Gulf Stream. She is a schooner or barge of two hundred and +seventy-five tons, about one hundred feet long, chained to an anchor of +three and a half tons. But it is said the life aboard is so unbearably +monotonous to the crew that they cut the chain and so send the lightship +adrift. The skipper was glad when the Gulf Stream carried him away from the +neighbourhood, for he was reminded that over five hundred wrecks have taken +place some leagues to the northward of his course. + +[Illustration: "THE TEMPERATURE OF THE STREAM WAS DISAGREEABLE TO HIM."] + +The _Miosen_ was now bound almost due east, as if headed for the Azores, +for the great river curves at this point. Just south of Halifax, in +longitude sixty-five degrees, they came across their first iceberg, +drifting on the very edge of the stream. There is nothing so unhealthy for +an iceberg as the Gulf Stream, and an iceberg seems to know it. When, +however, it is fairly caught in its clutches it soon melts away to +nothingness before it has been carried many leagues eastward, all +depending, of course, upon its size. As with icebergs, so with whales, as +we have already mentioned. The vessel encountered a whale later in +longitude fifty, but it was obvious that the temperature of the Stream was +disagreeable to him, for he soon headed again for the Arctic regions. Other +whales make a dash through or remain by the side of the big river and so +reach lower latitudes, but a brief sojourn is enough for them. The Gulf +Stream is a river which can boast everything maritime but whales. + +The great river just touches the southern extremity of the Grand Banks of +Newfoundland. This bank of Newfoundland, an enormous plateau surrounded on +all sides by abysses five to six miles deep, is chiefly due to the contact +of the Arctic current with the Gulf Stream. For here is the chief graveyard +of icebergs. On entering the tepid waters of the river the frozen mountains +gradually melt and let fall the fragments of rock and loads of earth they +bear into the sea. The bank, which rises gradually from the bottom, is the +work of the Greenland glaciers and the floes of the Polar Sea. It is the +presence of the Gulf Stream in these latitudes which is the cause of the +prevalent fogs not only here, but in the islands off Europe. From here +onward a sailor can always tell whether or not he is in the Stream by +plunging a thermometer overboard. Capt. Westrup found that it crosses the +Atlantic with a mean speed of twenty-four knots a day. This had previously +been ascertained, according to Maury, by direct measurement at different +parts of the ocean, or by means of notes, which, having been thrown +overboard in bottles, carefully closed, have floated for weeks or months at +the will of the waves, and then been fished up in other latitudes or found +on some seashore. In its long journey this mighty river transports hardly +any other alluvium than the living frustules of animalculæ which fill the +tepid waters of the current, and are constantly falling like snowflakes to +the bottom of the ocean. However, during the whole distance across the +_Miosen_ constantly met with the trunks and branches of trees, cane stalks, +and woody flotsam, much of which finally reaches the coasts of Europe, even +as far as Spitzbergen. + +"It was," says M. Reclus, "these remains which our ancestors of the Middle +Ages believed to come from the fabulous island of St. Brandan or from +Antilia, and which furnished matter for thought to daring navigators like +the great Columbus. Seeds carried from the New World by the current have +found a favourable soil on the shores of the Azores, and, although many +thousands of miles from their native land, have germinated and borne fruit. +Frequently the Gulf Stream brings to Europe the damaged products of human +industry and the timber of wrecked ships. During the Seven Years' War the +main-mast of an English man-of-war, the _Tilbury_, which had been burnt +near San Domingo, was found on the northern coasts of Scotland. Also, a +river-boat laden with mahogany was once driven to the Färöe Islands. The +remnants of vessels wrecked in the latitude of Guinea have reached the +British Isles on the Gulf Stream, and Esquimaux canoes have often been +carried on its waves to the Orkneys." + +The Färöe Islands formed the temporary stopping-place of the _Miosen_. + +"Here," states the captain, "we disembarked at Thorshaven on May 13th. On +the morning of the 12th we sighted Tindhölm, which is generally regarded as +the barrier or point marking the end of the longest river in the world. We +had begun our voyage at its source, and had traversed four thousand two +hundred and twelve miles to its mouth, where the waters spread out into the +great North Sea." + +[Illustration: APPROACH TO THE FÄRÖE ISLANDS--THE END OF THE GULF STREAM. + +_From a Photo._] + +Of the incalculable benefit to the climate of the British Isles and Western +Europe which the Gulf Stream confers, one need not here pretend to speak. +The river waters lose their warmth but slowly, and during winter they often +have, off Cape Hatteras and the bank of Newfoundland, a temperature +twenty-eight degrees Fahrenheit above that of the ocean. Thus they become a +source of heat to Western Europe. Owing to the warmth of its waters the +lakes of the Färöe and Shetland Isles never freeze in winter. Great Britain +is enveloped in fogs and the myrtle grows on Irish shores in the same +latitude as icy Labrador. The western coasts of Ireland have five degrees +higher temperature even than those of the eastern, and there the +fifty-second degree of latitude corresponds to the thirty-eighth degree in +America. All this is ascribed, and rightly, to the proximity of the world's +greatest river. + + + + +THE PHOENIX AND THE CARPET.[A] + +BY E. NESBIT + + +X.--THE HOLE IN THE CARPET. + + Hooray! hooray! hooray! + Mother comes home to-day; + Mother comes home to-day, + Hooray! hooray! hooray! + +Jane sang this simple song directly after breakfast, and the Phoenix shed +crystal tears of affectionate sympathy. + +"How beautiful," it said, "is filial devotion!" + +"She won't be home till past bed-time, though," said Robert. "We might have +one more carpet-day." + +He was glad that mother was coming home--quite glad, very glad; but at the +same time that gladness was rudely contradicted by a quite strong feeling +of sorrow, because now they could not go out all day on the carpet. + +"I do wish we could go and get something nice for mother, only she'd want +to know where we got it," said Anthea. "And she'd never, never believe the +truth. People never do, somehow, if it's at all interesting." + +"I'll tell you what," said Robert. "Suppose we wished the carpet to take us +somewhere where we could find a purse with money in it--then we could buy +her something." + +"Suppose it took us somewhere foreign, and the purse was covered with +strange Eastern devices, embroidered in rich silks, and full of money that +wasn't money at all here, only foreign curiosities, then we couldn't spend +it, and people would bother about where we got it, and we shouldn't know +how on earth to get out of it all." Cyril moved the table off the carpet as +he spoke, and its leg caught in one of Anthea's darns and ripped away most +of it, as well as a large slit in the carpet. + +"Well, now you _have_ done it," said Robert. + +But Anthea was a really first-class sister. She did not say a word till she +had got out the Scotch heather-mixture fingering wool, and the +darning-needle and the thimble and the scissors, and by that time she had +been able to get the better of her natural wish to be thoroughly +disagreeable, and was able to say quite kindly:-- + +"Never mind, Squirrel, I'll soon mend it." + +Cyril thumped her on the back. He understood exactly how she had felt, and +he was not an ungrateful brother. + +"Respecting the purse containing coins," the Phoenix said, scratching its +invisible ear thoughtfully with its shining claw, "it might be as well, +perhaps, to state clearly the amount which you wish to find, as well as the +country where you wish to find it, and the nature of the coins which you +prefer. It would be indeed a cold moment when you should find a purse +containing but three oboloi." + +"How much is an oboloi?" + +"An obol is about twopence halfpenny," the Phoenix replied. + +"Yes," said Jane, "and if you find a purse I suppose it is only because +someone has lost it, and you ought to take it to the policeman." + +"The situation," remarked the Phoenix, "does indeed bristle with +difficulties." + +"What about a buried treasure," said Cyril, "and everyone was dead that it +belonged to?" + +"Mother wouldn't believe _that_," said more than one voice. + +"Suppose," said Robert--"suppose we asked to be taken where we could find a +purse and give it back to the person it belonged to, and they would give us +something for finding it?" + +"We aren't allowed to take money from strangers. You know we aren't, Bobs," +said Anthea, making a knot at the end of a needleful of Scotch +heather-mixture fingering wool (which is very wrong, and you must never do +it when you are darning). + +"No, _that_ wouldn't do," said Cyril. "Let's chuck it and go to the North +Pole, or somewhere really interesting." + +"No," said the girls together, "there must be _some_ way." + +"Wait a sec," Anthea added. "I've got an idea coming. Don't speak." + +There was a silence as she paused with the darning-needle in the air. +Suddenly she spoke:-- + +"I see. Let's tell the carpet to take us somewhere where we can get the +money for mother's present, and--and--and get it some way that she'll +believe in and not think wrong." + +"Well, I must say you are learning the way to get the most out of the +carpet," said Cyril. He spoke more heartily and kindly than usual, because +he remembered how Anthea had refrained from snarking him about tearing the +carpet. + +"Yes," said the Phoenix, "you certainly are. And you have to remember +that if you take a thing out it doesn't stay in." + +No one paid any attention to this remark at the time, but afterwards +everyone thought of it. + +"Do hurry up, Panther," said Robert; and that was why Anthea did hurry up +and why the big darn in the middle of the carpet was all open and webby +like a fishing-net, not tight and close like woven cloth, which is what a +good, well-behaved darn should be like. + +Then everyone put on its outdoor things, the Phoenix fluttered on to the +mantelpiece and arranged its golden feathers in the glass, and then all was +ready. Everyone got on to the carpet. + +"Please go slowly, dear carpet," Anthea began; "we like to see where we're +going." And then she added the difficult wish that had been decided on. + +Next moment the carpet, stiff and raft-like, was sailing over the roofs of +Kentish Town. + +"I wish----No, I don't mean that. I mean it's a _pity_ we aren't higher +up," said Anthea, as the edge of the carpet grazed a chimney-pot. + +"That's right. Be careful," said the Phoenix, in warning tones. "If you +wish when you're on a Wishing Carpet, you _do_ wish, and there's an end of +it." + +So for a short time no one spoke, and the carpet sailed on in calm +magnificence over St. Pancras and King's Cross stations and over the +crowded streets of Clerkenwell. + +"We're going out Greenwich way," said Cyril, as they crossed the streak of +rough, tumbled water that was the Thames. "We might go and have a look at +the Palace." + +On and on the carpet swept, still keeping much nearer to the chimney-pots +than the children found at all comfortable. And then, just over New Cross, +a terrible thing happened. + +Jane and Robert were in the middle of the carpet. Part of them was on the +carpet, and part of them--the heaviest part--was on the great central darn. + +"It's all very misty," said Jane; "it looks partly like out of doors and +partly like in the nursery at home. I feel as if I was going to have +measles; everything looked awfully rum then, I remember." + +"I feel just exactly the same," Robert said. + +"It's the hole," said the Phoenix; "it's not measles, whatever that +possession may be." + +And at that both Robert and Jane suddenly and at once made a bound to try +and get on to the safer part of the carpet, and the darn _gave way_ and +their boots went up, and the heavy heads and bodies of them went down +_through the hole_, and they landed in a position something between sitting +and sprawling on the flat leads on the top of a high, grey, gloomy, +respectable house whose address was 705, Amersham Road, New Cross. + +The carpet seemed to awaken to new energy as soon as it had got rid of +their weight, and rose high in the air. The others lay down flat and peeped +over the edge of the rising carpet. + +[Illustration: "'ARE YOU HURT?' CRIED CYRIL."] + +"Are you hurt?" cried Cyril, and Robert shouted "No," and next moment the +carpet had sped away, and Jane and Robert were hidden from the sight of the +others by a stack of smoky chimneys. + +"Oh, how awful!" said Anthea. + +"It might have been worse," said the Phoenix. "What would have been the +sentiments of the survivors if that darn had given way when we were +crossing the river?" + +"Yes, there's that," said Cyril, recovering himself. "They'll be all right. +They'll howl till someone gets them down, or drop tiles into the front +garden to attract the attention of passers-by. Bobs has got my one and +five-pence--lucky you forgot to mend that hole in my pocket, Panther, or he +wouldn't have had it. They can tram it home." + +But Anthea would not be comforted. + +"It's all my fault," she said. "I _knew_ the proper way to darn, and I +didn't do it. It's all my fault. Let's go home and patch the carpet with +your Etons--something really strong--and send it to fetch them." + +"All right," said Cyril; "but your Sunday jacket is stronger than my Etons. +We must just chuck mother's present, that's all. I wish----" + +"Stop!" cried the Phoenix; "the carpet is dropping to earth." + +And indeed it was. + +It sank swiftly, yet steadily, and landed on the pavement of the Deptford +Road. It tipped a little as it landed, so that Cyril and Anthea naturally +walked off it, and in an instant it had rolled itself up and hidden behind +a gate-post. It did this so quickly that not a single person in the +Deptford Road noticed it. The Phoenix rustled its way into the breast of +Cyril's coat, and almost at the same moment a well-known voice remarked:-- + +"Well, I never! What on earth are you doing here?" + +They were face to face with their pet uncle--their Uncle Reginald. + +[Illustration: "IN AN INSTANT IT HAD ROLLED ITSELF UP AND HIDDEN BEHIND A +GATE-POST."] + +"We _did_ think of going to Greenwich Palace and talking about Nelson," +said Cyril, telling as much of the truth as he thought his uncle could +believe. + +"And where are the others?" asked Uncle Reginald. + +"I don't exactly know," Cyril replied, this time quite truthfully. + +"Well," said Uncle Reginald, "I must fly. I've a case in the County Court. +That's the worst of being a beastly solicitor. One can't take the chances +of life when one gets them. If only I could come with you to the Painted +Hall and give you lunch at the Ship afterwards! But, alas! it may not be." + +The uncle felt in his pocket. + +"_I_ mustn't enjoy myself," he said, "but that's no reason why you +shouldn't. Here, divide this by four, and the product ought to give you +_some_ desired result. Take care of yourselves. Adieu." + +And waving a cheery farewell with his neat umbrella the good and +high-hatted uncle passed away, leaving Cyril and Anthea to exchange +eloquent glances over the shining golden sovereign that lay in Cyril's +hand. + +"Well!" said Anthea. + +"Well!" said Cyril. + +"Well!" said the Phoenix. + +"Good old carpet," said Cyril, joyously. + +"It _was_ clever of it--so adequate and yet so simple," said the Phoenix, +with calm approval. + +"Oh, come on home and let's mend the carpet. I am a beast. I'd forgotten +the others, just for a minute," said the conscience-stricken Anthea. + +They unrolled the carpet quickly and slily--they did not want to attract +public attention--and the moment their feet were on the carpet Anthea +wished to be at home, and instantly they were. + +The kindness of their excellent uncle had made it unnecessary for them to +go to such extremes as Cyril's Etons or Anthea's Sunday jacket for the +patching of the carpet. + +Anthea set to work at once to draw the edges of the broken darn together, +and Cyril hastily went out and bought a large piece of the marble-patterned +American oil-cloth which careful housewives use to cover dressers and +kitchen tables. It was the strongest thing he could think of. + +Then they set to work to line the carpet throughout with the oil-cloth. The +nursery felt very odd and empty without the others, and Cyril did not feel +so sure as he had done about their being able to "tram it" home. So he +tried to help Anthea, which was very good for him, but not much use to her. + +The Phoenix watched them for a time, but it was plainly growing more and +more restless. It fluffed up its splendid feathers, and stood first on one +gilded claw and then on the other, and at last it said:-- + +[Illustration: "'GOOD OLD CARPET,' SAID CYRIL, JOYOUSLY."] + +"I can bear it no longer. This suspense! My Robert--who set my egg to +hatch--in the bosom of whose Norfolk raiment I have nestled so often and so +pleasantly! I think, if you'll excuse me----" + +"Yes--_do_," cried Anthea. "I wish we'd thought of asking you before." + +Cyril opened the window. The Phoenix flapped its sun-bright wings and +vanished. + +"So _that's_ all right," said Cyril, taking up his needle and instantly +pricking his hand in a new place. + + * * * * * + +Of course, I know that what you have really wanted to know about all this +time is not what Anthea and Cyril did, but--what happened to Jane and +Robert after they fell through the carpet on to the leads of the house +which was called number 705, Amersham Road. + +But I had to tell you the other first. That is one of the most annoying +things about stories. You cannot tell all the different parts of them at +the same time. + +Robert's first remark when he found himself seated on the damp, cold, sooty +leads was:-- + +"Here's a go!" + +Jane's first act was tears. + +"Dry up, Pussy; don't be a little duffer," said her brother, kindly. "It +will be all right." + +And then he looked about, just as Cyril had known he would, for something +to throw down, so as to attract the attention of the wayfarers far below in +the street. He could not find anything. Curiously enough there were no +stones on the leads, not even a loose tile. The roof was of slate, and +every single slate knew its place and kept it. But, as so often happens, in +looking for one thing he found another. There was a trap-door leading down +into the house. + +And that trap-door was not fastened. + +"Stop snivelling and come here, Jane," he cried, encouragingly. "Lend a +hand to heave this up. If we can get into the house we might sneak down +without meeting anyone, with luck. Come on." + +They heaved up the door till it stood straight up, and, as they bent to +look into the hole below, the door fell back with a hollow clang on the +leads behind, and with its noise was mingled a blood-curdling scream from +underneath. + +"Discovered!" hissed Robert. "Oh, my cats alive!" + +They were indeed discovered. + +They found themselves looking down into an attic, which was also a +lumber-room. It had boxes and broken chairs, old fenders and +picture-frames, and rag-bags hanging from nails. + +In the middle of the floor was a box, open, half full of clothes. Other +clothes lay on the floor in neat piles. In the middle of the piles of +clothes sat a lady, very flat indeed, with her feet sticking out straight +in front of her. And it was she who had screamed, and who, in fact, was +still screaming. + +"Don't!" cried Jane, "please don't! We won't hurt you." + +"Where are the rest of your gang?" asked the lady, stopping short in the +middle of a scream. + +"The others have gone on, on the Wishing Carpet," said Jane, truthfully. + +"The Wishing Carpet?" said the lady. + +"Yes," said Jane, before Robert could say, "You shut up!" "You must have +read about it. The Phoenix is with them." + +Then the lady got up, and picking her way carefully between the piles of +clothes she got to the door and through it. She shut it behind her, and the +two children could hear her calling "Septimus! Septimus!" in a loud yet +frightened way. + +"Now," said Robert, quickly; "I'll drop first." + +He hung by his hands and dropped through the trap-door. + +"Now you. Hang by your hands. I'll catch you. Oh, there's no time for jaw. +Drop, I say." + +Jane dropped. + +[Illustration: "JANE DROPPED."] + +Robert tried to catch her, and even before they had finished the breathless +roll among the piles of clothes, which was what his catching ended in, he +whispered:-- + +"We'll hide--behind those fenders and things; they'll think we've gone +along the roofs. Then, when all is calm, we'll creep down the stairs and +take our chance." + +They hastily hid. A corner of an iron bedstead struck into Robert's side, +and Jane had only standing room for one foot--but they bore it--and when +the lady came back, not with Septimus, but with another lady, they held +their breath and their hearts beat thickly. + +"Gone!" said the first lady; "poor little things--quite mad, my dear--and +at large! We must lock this room and send for the police." + +"Let me look out," said the second lady, who was, if possible, older and +thinner and primmer than the first. So the two ladies dragged a box under +the trap-door and put another box on the top of it, and then they both +climbed up very carefully and put their two trim, tidy heads out of the +trap-door to look for the "mad children." + +"Now," whispered Robert, getting the bedstead-leg out of his side. + +They managed to creep out from their hiding-place and out through the door +before the two ladies had done looking out of the trap-door on to the empty +leads. + +Robert and Jane tiptoed down the stairs--one flight, two flights. Then they +looked over the banisters. Horror! a servant was coming up with a loaded +scuttle. + +The children with one consent crept swiftly through the first open door. + +The room was a study, calm and gentle, manly, with rows of books, a +writing-table, and a pair of embroidered slippers warming themselves in the +fender. The children hid behind the window-curtains. As they passed the +table they saw on it a missionary-box with its bottom label torn off, open +and empty. + +"Oh, how awful!" whispered Jane. "We shall never get away alive." + +"Hush!" said Robert, not a moment too soon, for there were steps on the +stairs, and next instant the two ladies came into the room. They did not +see the children, but they saw the empty missionary-box. + +"I knew it," said one. "Selina, it _was_ a gang. I was certain of it from +the first. The children were not mad. They were sent to distract our +attention while their confederates robbed the house." + +"I am afraid you are right," said Selina; "and _where are they now_?" + +"Downstairs, no doubt, collecting the silver milk-jug and sugar-basin and +the punch-ladle that was Uncle Joe's, and Aunt Jerusha's teaspoons. I shall +go down." + +"Oh, don't be so rash and heroic," said Selina. "Amelia, we must call the +police from the window. Lock the door. I _will_--I will----" + +The words ended in a yell as Selina, rushing to the window, came face to +face with the hidden children. + +"Oh, don't!" said Jane; "how can you be so unkind? We _aren't_ burglars, +and we haven't any gang, and we didn't open your missionary-box. We opened +our own once, but we didn't have to use the money, so our consciences made +us put it back and----_Don't!_ Oh, I wish you wouldn't----" + +Miss Selina had seized Jane and Miss Amelia captured Robert. The children +found themselves held fast by strong, slim hands, pink at the wrists and +white at the knuckles. + +"We've got _you_, at any rate," said Miss Amelia. "Selina, your captive is +smaller than mine. You open the window at once and call 'Murder!' as loud +as you can." + +Selina obeyed; but when she had opened the window, instead of calling +"Murder!" she called "Septimus!" because at that very moment she saw her +nephew coming in at the gate. + +In another minute he had let himself in with his latch-key and had mounted +the stairs. As he came into the room Jane and Robert each uttered a shriek +of joy so loud and so sudden that the ladies leaped with surprise and +nearly let them go. + +"It's our own clergyman," cried Jane. + +"Don't you remember us?" asked Robert. "You married our burglar for +us--don't you remember?" + +"I _knew_ it was a gang," said Amelia. "Septimus, these abandoned children +are members of a desperate burgling gang who are robbing the house. They +have already forced the missionary-box and purloined its contents." + +[Illustration: "'DON'T YOU REMEMBER US?' ASKED ROBERT. 'YOU MARRIED OUR +BURGLAR FOR US.'"] + +The Reverend Septimus passed his hand wearily over his brow. + +"I feel a little faint," he said, "running upstairs so quickly." + +"We never touched the beastly box," said Robert. + +"Then your confederates did," said Miss Selina. + +"No, no," said the curate, hastily. "_I_ opened the box myself. This +morning I found I had not enough small change for the Mothers' Independent +Unity Measles and Croup Insurance payments. I suppose this is _not_ a +dream, is it?" + +"Dream? No, indeed. Search the house. I insist upon it." + +The curate, still pale and trembling, searched the house, which, of course, +was blamelessly free of burglars. + +When he came back he sank wearily into his chair. + +"Aren't you going to let us go?" asked Robert, with furious indignation, +for there is something in being held by a strong lady that sets the blood +of a boy boiling in his veins with anger and despair. "We've never done +anything to you. It's all the carpet. It dropped us on the leads. _We_ +couldn't help it. You know how it carried you over to the island, and you +had to marry the burglar to the cook." + +"Oh, my head!" said the curate. + +"Never mind your head just now," said Robert; "try to be honest and +honourable, and do your duty in that state of life!" + +"This is a judgment on me for something, I suppose," said the Reverend +Septimus, wearily, "but I really cannot at the moment remember what." + +"Send for the police," said Miss Selina. + +"Send for a doctor," said the curate. + +"Do you think they _are_ mad then?" said Miss Amelia. + +"I think I am," said the curate. + +Jane had been crying ever since her capture. Now she said:-- + +"You aren't now, but perhaps you will be, if----And it would serve you +jolly well right, too." + +"Aunt Selina," said the curate, "and Aunt Amelia, believe me, this is only +an insane dream. You will realize it soon. It has happened to me before. +But do not let us be unjust, even in a dream. Do not hold the children; +they have done no harm. As I said before, it was I who opened the box." + +The strong, bony hands unwillingly loosed their grasp. Robert shook himself +and stood in sulky resentment. But Jane ran to the curate and embraced him +so suddenly that he had not time to defend himself. + +"You're a dear," she said. "It is like a dream just at first, but you get +used to it. Now _do_ let us go. There's a good, kind, honourable +clergyman." + +[Illustration: "JANE RAN TO THE CURATE AND EMBRACED HIM."] + +"I don't know," said the Reverend Septimus; "it's a difficult problem. It +is such a very unusual dream. Perhaps it's only a sort of other life--quite +real enough for you to be mad in. And if you're mad there might be a +dream-asylum where you'd be kindly treated, and in time restored, cured, to +your sorrowing relatives. It is very hard to see your duty plainly, even in +ordinary life, and these dream-circumstances are so complicated----" + +"If it's a dream," said Robert, "you will wake up directly, and then you'd +be sorry if you'd sent us into a dream-asylum, because you might never get +into the same dream again and let us out, and so we might stay there for +ever, and then what about our sorrowing relatives who aren't in the dreams +at all?" + +But all the curate could now say was, "Oh, my head!" + +And Jane and Robert felt quite ill with helplessness and hopelessness. A +really conscientious curate is a very difficult thing to manage. + +And then, just as the hopelessness and the helplessness were getting to be +almost more than they could bear, the two children suddenly felt that +extraordinary shrinking feeling that you always have when you are just +going to vanish. And the next moment they had vanished, and the Reverend +Septimus was left alone with his aunts. + +"I knew it was a dream," he cried, wildly. "I've had something like it +before. Did you dream it too, Aunt Selina, and you, Aunt Amelia? I dreamed +that you did, you know." + +Aunt Selina looked at him and then at Aunt Amelia. Then she said, boldly:-- + +"What do you mean? _We_ haven't been dreaming anything. You must have +dropped off in your chair." + +The curate heaved a sigh of relief. + +"Oh, if it's only _I_," he said; "if we'd all dreamed it I could never have +believed it, never!" + +Afterwards Aunt Selina said to the other aunt:-- + +"Yes, I know it was an untruth, and I shall doubtless be punished for it in +due course. But I could see the poor, dear fellow's brain giving way before +my very eyes. He couldn't have stood the strain of _three_ dreams. It _was_ +odd, wasn't it? All three of us dreaming the same thing at the same moment. +We must never tell dear Seppy. But I shall send an account of it to the +Psychical Society, with stars instead of names, you know." + +And she did. And you can read all about it in one of the society's fat +Blue-books. + + * * * * * + +Of course, you understand what had happened? + +The intelligent Phoenix had simply gone straight off to the psammead, or +sand-fairy, who gives wishes and had wished Robert and Jane at home. And, +of course, they were at home at once. Cyril and Anthea had not half +finished mending the carpet. + +When the joyful emotions of reunion had calmed down a little they all went +out and spent what was left of Uncle Reginald's sovereign in presents for +mother. They bought her a pink silk handkerchief, a pair of blue and white +vases, a bottle of scent, a packet of Christmas candles, and a cake of soap +shaped and coloured like a tomato, and one that was so like an orange that +almost anyone you had given it to would have tried to peel it--if they +liked oranges, of course. Also they bought a cake with icing on, and the +rest of the money they spent in flowers to put in the vases. + +When they had arranged all the things on a table, with the candles stuck up +on a plate ready to light the moment mother's cab was heard, they washed +themselves thoroughly and put on tidier clothes. + +Then Robert said, "Good old psammead," and the others said so too. + +"But, really, it's just as much good old Phoenix," said Robert. "Suppose +it hadn't thought of getting the wish!" + +"Ah!" said the Phoenix, "it is perhaps fortunate for you that I am such a +competent bird." + +"There's mother's cab," cried Anthea, and the Phoenix bird and they +lighted the candles, and next moment mother's cab was home again. + +She liked her presents very much, and found their story of Uncle Reginald +and the sovereign easy and even pleasant to believe. + +"Good old carpet," were Cyril's last sleepy words. + +"What there is of it," said the Phoenix, from the cornice-pole. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[A] Copyright, 1904, by George Newnes, Limited. + + + + +_The Making of a Lily._ + +BY F. MARTIN DUNCAN. + + +[Illustration: 1.--A "CROWN" OF THE LILY OF THE VALLEY, SHOWING THE +UNDERGROUND STEM WITH NEXT YEAR'S BUDS.] + +[Illustration: 2.--A RETARDED "CROWN" OF THE LILY OF THE VALLEY BEFORE +BEING PLANTED IN THE FORCING-HOUSE.] + +To the question, "What are your favourite flowers?" a large majority of +people will be found to promptly answer, "Lilies." And every year these +beautiful flowers seem to become more and more popular. They have a charm +peculiarly their own, unmatched by any other flower; while a halo of +romance has encompassed them from the earliest dawn of civilization, +inspiring poets, painters, and all lovers of the beautiful in Nature. + +North, south, east, and west collectors have travelled, diligently seeking +for new species, until a wonderful collection of all sorts, shapes, and +sizes of lilies has been brought together, to enrich our gardens and +greenhouses with their graceful forms and delicate tints. But in spite of +all this continual importation of gorgeous and distinguished foreigners, +flaunting it bravely in scarlet and gold, our own native lily of the valley +still ranks first favourite in the hearts of the people. Nor is this +constancy surprising, for what can be more charming than the exquisite cool +green of its foliage or the sweet, fresh fragrance of the clusters of its +pure white flowers? + +[Illustration: 3.--AFTER A WEEK IN THE FORCING-HOUSE THE BUD BEGINS TO +SWELL.] + +Partly on account of its graceful shape and sweet scent, the pure white of +its blossoms and delicate green of its foliage, the lily of the valley has +become one of the most important flowers for bouquets and floral +decorations, often being used on the most opposite occasions--for the +bridal bouquet and the funeral wreath--yet never appearing out of place or +incongruous; while at Yule-tide it is nowadays in as great demand as the +holly for decorating our homes and churches. Consequently there is now a +steadily-growing demand for lilies of the valley throughout the year. + +Now, in its natural state, growing at its own sweet will in our woods, the +lily of the valley flowers only in the spring of the year, just as the +earliest spring flowers are beginning to fade; while later in the year its +leafless flower-stem bears numerous pretty, globular-shaped red berries, +the seeds from which future generations of lilies will spring. Besides its +seeds, the lily of the valley has another method of perpetuating the +species by means of its subterranean creeping root-stock, on which a new +bud, or series of buds, appears annually, each bud ultimately developing +the orthodox two leaves, from the centre of which rises the flower-stem. As +the flowers and foliage of the present year begin to fade, those buds on +the underground stem which represent next year's supply of flowers are seen +to increase somewhat in size. During the cold winter months they rest and +remain practically inactive, awaiting the first warm breath of spring, +which is the signal for them to start into active growth. + +[Illustration: 4.--IN TEN DAYS SOME APPRECIABLE GROWTH IS MADE.] + +[Illustration: 5.--FOURTEEN DAYS' GROWTH. THE TIGHTLY-FOLDED FOLIAGE LEAVES +AND FLOWER STEM HAVE DEVELOPED.] + +The peculiar underground stem of the lily of the valley is known amongst +gardeners as the "crown." For a long time the autumn and winter demand for +flowers of the lily of the valley was met by digging up the crowns out of +the gardens or woods, placing them in pots filled with rich soil, and +forcing their growth in the hothouse. Now, curious to say, although the +lily crowns responded to this treatment and sent up their flower-stems, +they absolutely declined to develop any foliage, probably because they had +been deprived of their winter rest and the opportunity to store up the +requisite strength for building up both flowers and foliage; moreover, the +blossoms of these forced crowns were often very small in size. + +[Illustration: 6.--EIGHTEEN DAYS' GROWTH. THE CREAMY-WHITE LEAVES BEGIN TO +SWELL.] + +Many eminent florists, both in England and on the Continent, dissatisfied +with such results, set to work to solve the difficulty of growing both +foliage and flowers of the lily of the valley all the year round. The task +was a troublesome one, though not quite so hopeless as it would appear to +the uninitiated, for these flower specialists knew that crowns which were +taken out of the ground at the end of the winter and forced would +frequently develop both foliage and flowers. + +[Illustration: 7.--TWENTY-ONE DAYS' GROWTH. THE FOLIAGE GAINING ITS GREEN +TINT AND THE FLOWER-BUDS SHOWING.] + +At last, after numerous experiments had been tried, a method was evolved +whereby it became possible to supply the markets of the world with both +large and handsome flowers and foliage of the lily of the valley all the +year round, from New Year's Day to New Year's Eve. The crowns are now +collected before the new buds have made much growth, and subjected to a +process of refrigeration which takes the place of the winter sleep, and by +which means they can be stored for a long time without injury. Four or five +weeks before the flowers and foliage are required the crowns are planted in +the hothouse, and kept at a temperature of about 75 deg. Fahr. during the +whole period of their growth. + +[Illustration: 8.--TWENTY-EIGHT DAYS' GROWTH. THE FOLIAGE BEGINNING TO +UNFURL.] + +[Illustration: 9.--THIRTY-ONE DAYS' GROWTH. THE FLOWER-STEM RAPIDLY +GROWING.] + +When taken from the refrigerator the lily crown, technically known on the +market as a "retarded crown," has a somewhat dry, brownish appearance. A +week spent in the rich soil and hot, humid atmosphere of the forcing-house +causes the bud to swell and begin to grow. In ten days it is seen to have +really made some appreciable growth. At the end of fourteen days the +creamy-white, tightly-folded foliage leaves and the tip of the flower-stem +are seen to have developed, the leaves broadening out somewhat about the +eighteenth day. In twenty-one days the still folded leaves have gained a +delicate, pale greenish hue, and the flower-buds have begun to make +themselves plainly visible upon the flower-stem. Twenty-eight days finds +the leaves a slightly deeper green in tint and beginning to unfurl; while +the flower-stem is now more slowly developing, showing a close +approximation to the order of growth under natural conditions. In thirty +days the flower-stem begins to put on a spurt and catch up with the leaves +in growth. Thirty-six days from the planting of the retarded crown the +fully-formed flower-buds begin to open, and a day or two later the plant is +in full bloom and the foliage and flowers are ready for the market. + +[Illustration: 10.--THIRTY-SIX DAYS' GROWTH. THE FOLIAGE FULLY DEVELOPED +AND THE FLOWER-BUDS BEGINNING TO OPEN.] + +[Illustration: 11.--THIRTY-EIGHT DAYS GROWTH. THE FLOWERS AND FOLIAGE READY +FOR MARKET.] + + + + +_Curiosities._ + +Copyright, 1904, by George Newnes, Limited. + +[_We shall be glad to receive Contributions to this section, and to pay for +such as are accepted._] + + +AN EXTRAORDINARY OCCURRENCE. + +"Whilst lifting a dish of apples from the table one of the apples fell from +the dish to the wineglass and remained in the position shown in the +photograph. It did not upset the glass, although it was empty. The +edge of the glass had cut into the apple, so retaining it in +position."--Lieut.-Col. G. T. Trueman, Brooklands, Mansfield Road, Reading. + +[Illustration] + + +THE DEVIL'S BRIDGE. + +"The bridge shown in the photograph carries with it a curious legend, which +runs somewhat as follows. Once upon a time there was no bridge at all, and +a ford was the only means at the disposal of the local inhabitants. One +day, owing to a flood, an old woman was unable to cross the river to sell +her wares at the village market. She began to cry. The Devil hearing her +sobs came to her and said he would build a bridge across the river, on +condition that he had the very first living being that crossed the bridge +after market time, his Satanic Majesty knowing very well that the old woman +was always the first on the journey back. The woman promised, and the Devil +soon built the bridge. The woman on returning from market was about to step +upon the bridge when she suddenly remembered what the Devil had said. Not +knowing what to do, she went to the priest and confessed everything. The +worthy priest, giving her a cake, advised her to throw it to the other side +of the bridge and let her dog run after it. This she did, and the Devil was +so angry at being cheated of his prey that he dropped a corner of his apron +and the stones fell to the bottom of the river, where they may be seen to +this day."--Mr. J. B. Mather, 21, Liverpool Road, Birkdale, near Southport. + +[Illustration] + + +A CYCLONIC FREAK. + +[Illustration] + +"On Saturday afternoon, October 3rd, 1903, a cyclone passed over the State +of Wisconsin from the south-west corner to the north-east corner, doing +considerable damage to life and property. At the time I was employed as a +local man on the _Waupaca Post_, and was detailed to write up the results +of the storm in that neighbourhood. At a point about seven miles north of +Waupaca, near the village of Scandinavia, I found that the wind had +demolished a farm-house and that an ordinary cabinet photo. had been blown +from a table in the front room and driven about one-half its area into a +solid oak tree by the side of the road. The tree was badly broken above, +but perfectly solid at the point where the picture was driven in. I took +hold of the card and pulled as hard as I dared, but found it to be quite +immovable."--Mr. Thos. L. Jacobs, Sumner, Washington. + + +WHEN IS A MONKEY NOT A MONKEY? + +"When it is a Japanese fern tree like that shown in my photograph. The +Japanese people are fond of shaping fern roots so as to resemble animals, +and when the fern grows a little judicious clipping of the fronds adds much +to the realistic and often grotesque effect."--Miss Emmons, Mount Vernon, +Leamington. + +[Illustration] + + +SCRAP-IRON _v._ EVIL SPIRITS. + +"In the southern part of the United States one of the superstitions of the +negroes is that fruit trees should be protected from evil spirits by +hanging upon them iron in some form. According to their belief, if the +trees do not have some such safeguard the spirits will enter the trunk and +branches and prevent the trees from bearing. The accompanying photograph +shows a peach tree in Maryland which was protected from the evil spirits in +this way. Suspended from the trunk and branches are chains, stove lids, +hoops, grates, and iron nails collected by the owner of the tree from piles +of old metal for this purpose. It is a peculiar fact, however, that the +tree has borne large crops of peaches each year it has thus been +protected."--Mr. D. A. Willey, Baltimore. + +[Illustration] + + +"NECESSITY IS THE MOTHER OF INVENTION." + +"I send you a photograph showing a unique umbrella which sheltered two +young ladies under it during a violent thunderstorm. While spending my +holiday in the Blue Mountains of Sullivan County, New York, I decided to +take a trip to Minisink Battlefield, in the town of Highland, where, on +July 22nd, 1779, a tribe of Indians, led by the noted half-breed, Joseph +Brant, massacred a band of white soldiers, who had made an heroic fight and +had gained the upper hand, when they discovered that their ammunition had +given out. A rude monument of stone marks the spot, and while I was taking +a photograph of it the storm broke. Our party found temporary shelter in an +abandoned hut in a quarry at the mountain top, but being miles from our +stopping-place, and having failed to provide ourselves with even a single +umbrella, one of the party, Mr. Ralph Austin, saw possibilities in the +umbrella line when I folded up my rubber-coated focusing cloth. A birch +sapling furnished the rod, and branches of maple trees were made to serve +as ribs. These were held in place by strips torn from a handkerchief. Then +the focusing cloth was stretched across the frame and tied down at the +corners with more strips from the handkerchief. The homeward journey was +then begun, and for a distance of nearly four miles the young ladies walked +under the umbrella, which thoroughly protected them from the rain. They +were so pleased with this ingenious umbrella that they insisted upon being +photographed under it."--Mr. Adolph A. Langer, 116, Danforth Avenue, Jersey +City, N.J. + +[Illustration] + + +BEAVERS' WORK. + +"This photograph shows the remarkable work of what are known as +dam-building beavers. The little animals sometimes construct barriers of +brushwood and clay in creeks to form their winter habitations. Occasionally +they use pieces of timber of quite large size. The logs which are shown in +this picture were actually cut by their sharp teeth, and were found in the +swamp occupied by a beaver colony near Stroudsburg, Pa. The work was done +so nicely that the wood appears as if hewn with an axe. Pieces of this size +were used to strengthen the dam and were gnawed from limbs of trees, some +of which were over six inches in diameter. As will be noted, one bears a +remarkable resemblance to a horse's hoof."--Mr. D. A. Willey, Baltimore. + +[Illustration] + + +CATALEPTIC RIGIDITY. + +"This is a rather uncommon photograph of a man whilst under hypnotic +influence, lying on an upturned stool, bearing the weight of three people +on his body. His feet are resting on one leg and his neck on the other +without any support between. The photograph was taken without the knowledge +of the subject."--Mr. E. E. Vinnicombe, Gloucester Row, Weymouth. + +[Illustration] + + +OLD-FASHIONED SURGERY. + +"The accompanying photograph of a mural tablet in St. Sampson's Church, +Guernsey, the inscription on which is in French, brings the surgical skill +of to-day into striking contrast with that of a hundred years ago. For the +benefit of those who do not care to try their eyesight in reading the small +type, or who do not understand French, I have translated the latter and +more interesting part of the inscription into English, as follows: 'This +monument is erected to their memory, and also to that of their eldest son, +Thomas Falla, Lieutenant of the 12th Regiment of Infantry, who died at the +siege of Seringapatam, April 6th, 1799, aged eighteen years, six months, +twenty-five days, as the result of a wound of a solid cannon ball weighing +twenty-six pounds, which had lodged between the two bones of one of his +thighs. The said wound having become considerably inflamed, the surgeon of +the regiment, after he had examined the injury, was unaware that the ball +was enclosed in it, and it was only after his death, which took place six +hours after the event, that it was extracted, to the surprise of the whole +Army.' The solid cannon ball referred to, of twenty-six pounds in weight, +must have been five and three-quarter inches in diameter; it is astounding +to contemplate that the regimental surgeon was unable to detect the +presence of this huge mass of iron in the unfortunate officer's +thigh."--Mr. Arthur D. Moullin, "Cintra," Swanage, Dorset. + +[Illustration] + + +A SHAM STRONG MAN. + +"The picture of the 'Strong Man' was taken as follows: A section of bark +was removed from a partly rotten log, a thin slice being then sawn off the +log and placed in one end of the bark. This hollow sham was shouldered by +the 'Strong Man' whilst a friend snapped the shutter."--Mr. Paul Drake, +Green Lake Post Office, Seattle, Washington. + +[Illustration] + + +THE POWER OF A GROWING TREE. + +"At the time of the American occupation in Cuba a number of anchors were +thrown aside by the Americans in the Havana Navy Yard. Since then the tree +shown in the photograph has grown up. It is known in Cuba as the +'Frambollan,' or Royal Ponciana. The tree has caught the anchor and lifted +it bodily from the ground, one end of the anchor being twenty-one inches +from the ground and the other twenty-five inches, although, if measurements +were not taken, it would appear as if both sides were perfectly even. The +anchor weighs about four thousand five hundred pounds. The photograph was +taken by Mr. Marcos Moré, Peña Pobre 27, Havana, Cuba."--Mr. J. A. del +Solar, Room 818, 108, Fulton Street, New York. + +[Illustration] + + +WOMEN COALING A STEAMER IN JAPAN. + +"This photograph, which was taken in the harbour at Yokohama, shows one +side of a liner with many ladders running up from numerous coal barges +which surround the ship. The curious, and at the same time interesting, +point of the photograph lies in the fact that the coaling is carried out by +gangs of girls. They use little round baskets, which they pass from one +hand to another with amazing rapidity. Many of the figures which appear in +the photograph to be boys are not really so, for the dress of the girls is +in many ways of the masculine type--the large figure in the foreground is a +typical specimen of this. By the following figures one can realize the +speed with which the coal is put on board. One of the 'Empress' line of +steamers has had 1,360 tons loaded in this way in four hours, which is at +the rate of 5.7 tons per minute."--Mr. S. Edward Ould, 47, Gloucester +Square, Hyde Park, W. + +[Illustration] + + +"A RUBBING STONE FOR ASSES." + +"About the middle of the seventeenth century there stood an inn at the +corner of the old Chester road in Lower Bebington (near Birkenhead). The +loafers of the neighbourhood used to hang about the corner and loll against +the wall of this inn, which very much annoyed the innkeeper. Being an +ingenious man, he hit upon the following way of ridding himself of the +annoyance. He put a tablet in the wall (right-hand side of photo.), of +which none of them could understand the meaning for some time. At last one +of the sharpest found that by running the letters together a sentence was +formed, reading, 'A Rubbing Stone for Asses.' Of course, this effectually +cleared the loafers. The puzzle on the middle stone is solved thus:-- + + 987654321 (=45) + minus 123456789 (=45) + --------------------- + = 864197532 (=45) + +The worthy innkeeper's name (see third stone) was Mark Noble, and his sign +was 'The Two Crowns,' the thirty shillings being made up by-- + + Mark = 13s. 4d. + Noble = 6s. 8d. + Two Crowns = 10s. 0d. + --------- + 30s. 0d. + --------- + +The lettering of the stones has been recut lately to preserve it."--Mr. T. +H. Lee, 122, St. Domingo Vale, Liverpool. + +[Illustration] + + +ENGLISH AS SHE IS MURDERED. + +"The accompanying is a faithful copy of an address of welcome presented to +the passengers of the s.y. _Argonaut_ on the occasion of their visit to +Messene. Though a very amusing curiosity as regards the writer's +manipulation of the English language, it cannot fail to convey to the +'grand swans of strong Albion' the feeling of respect and admiration in +which they are held by the people of Greece."--Mr. Arthur Williamson, 17, +Union Square, S.E. + +[Illustration] + + +A SNAIL FARM. + +"This is a photograph of a snail farm which I took last summer at +Engelberg, near Lucerne. The owner of the farm is a peasant and he has over +three thousand Roman snails, some of them of immense size. He sends them to +Italy and Paris. They are worth about three a penny, and when dressed and +cooked ready for eating they sell for nearly two shillings a dozen."--Miss +I. M. Fairbairn, Wood Rising, Rye, Sussex. + +[Illustration] + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Strand Magazine, Volume XXVII, +Issue 160, April, 1904, by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STRAND MAGAZINE, APRIL, 1904 *** + +***** This file should be named 37484-8.txt or 37484-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/7/4/8/37484/ + +Produced by Dianna Adair, Jonathan Ingram, Josephine +Paolucci and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +https://www.pgdp.net. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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