diff options
Diffstat (limited to '43621-8.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 43621-8.txt | 6938 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 6938 deletions
diff --git a/43621-8.txt b/43621-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index f85c56c..0000000 --- a/43621-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,6938 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Quiver 12/1899, by Anonymous - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: The Quiver 12/1899 - -Author: Anonymous - -Release Date: September 2, 2013 [EBook #43621] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE QUIVER 12/1899 *** - - - - -Produced by Delphine Lettau, Julia Neufeld and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - -[Illustration: THE HEIRLOOM - -_From the Drawing by_ M. L. GOW, R.I.] - - - - -A DAY IN DAMASCUS. - - -It was only just over a fortnight since we left England--according -to the calendar, that is to say; but that way of reckoning time -seems to me as misleading as the common method of £ s. d. in -computing alms. Two days' weary railway travel to Marseilles after -crossing the Channel, two days of smooth sailing to the Straits -of Messina, then two of tossing "in Adria," till we ran under the -lee of Crete; one spent in plunging along its southern shores, -followed by a bright, warm day which brought us to the coast of -Egypt (only to learn that if we entered the longed-for haven of -Alexandria we should be subject to five days' quarantine at our -next port); a tiresome day's run across this most choppy corner of -the Mediterranean to Jaffa, and a landing there through the surf -on a glorious morning, which made up for everything, and plunged -us straight into the midst of Eastern life, with all its warmth of -colouring to eye and ear; three hours' run by rail to Jerusalem, -and five days there and thereabouts, almost bewildering us with a -constant succession of scenes half-novel and half-familiar; another -railway journey back to Jaffa, a pleasant run along the coast of -Palestine to Beirut, and a day spent there. All this lay between -England and Beirut as we finished an early breakfast on a February -morning, and drove to the railway station through the busy streets -of Beirut, full of picturesque life, and yet much more European than -those of other Syrian towns. Our driver stopped on the way, somewhat -to our amusement, to light his cigarette from a friend's! - -[Illustration: WALL FROM WHICH ST. PAUL ESCAPED, DAMASCUS. - -(_Photo: Bonfils._) ] - -This railway line is a new one, due to French enterprise, and was -opened in August, 1895. The Lebanon district owes much to the -French. We were a party of seventy, and had chartered a special -train. The distance is only about ninety miles; it seemed almost -impossible that the journey should take nine hours, as we were told; -but there are more than a score of stations, and at each one the -train (even a special) stops for several minutes--by order of the -Government, we heard. And, more than that, the line passes right -over Libanus and Anti-Libanus, reaching a point some 5,000 feet up, -where the coast of Cyprus comes in sight over the blue waters of the -Mediterranean; while, as one journeys east, the snowy top of Hermon -stands out against the sky away to the south. A system of cogs and -several reversings of the engine carried us high into the mountains -in a very short time. Beirut was left far below, and we were among -the snows, glad of the rugs and thick overcoats which wisdom (not -our own) had advised us to bring; glad, too, by mid-day of the lunch -we had brought with us. Even in the midst of the grandest scenery -we were vulgarly hungry, and rather sleepy when we felt the rare -atmosphere. After a time, the scene changed: we were in Coele-Syria, -among mulberries and vineyards, from which comes Lebanon wine. Here -and there were mud villages, with picturesque groups of natives and -cattle. We were the first large English party to pass over the line; -and at one station a red-robed Syrian, who had served in a London -milliner's years ago, asked eagerly for an English newspaper, to -know what was going on in Constantinople! He got one from us about -a fortnight old; we had none later. Elsewhere the natives were -wondrously pleased to see some of our party playing at leapfrog -during the stops. - -[Illustration: DETAIL OF THE CARVED WORK IN A JEWISH HOUSE. - -(_Photo: Bonfils._)] - -Over the hills the _diligence_ road runs for the most part near -the railway, and here and there we saw strings of mules winding -along above us. We passed Anti-Libanus at an altitude of 4,000 feet -above the sea, and at Zebdany entered the valley of the Barada (the -ancient Abana), which we followed the remaining twenty-four miles to -Damascus. Here and there are short tunnels or cuttings, and almost -everywhere splendid cliffs, sometimes cavernous, and rich valleys -with orchards and olive-trees. - -About nightfall we ran into Damascus, and were driven to the Hotel -Besraoui: we were getting used by this time to the apparently -reckless manners of the Oriental driver. There are large barracks -close to the station: the Government put them up when the railway -was made, as a measure of political prudence. At Zahleh, the -half-way station, whence runs the road to Baalbek, we had seen -trucks full of Turkish soldiers returning from the Haurân, where -the Druses had been giving trouble; in fact, the first train -chartered for our party at Beirut was taken for military purposes by -the Government officials, so we understood, leaving us to wait till -the next morning! And now we found troops bivouacked along the road -by which we left the station for our hotel. They are good soldiers, -these Turks, and not bad fellows, from what I have heard; but -unpaid, unclad, unfed, many of them, we were told, had died under -their hardships. - -Arrived at the hotel, we passed through the entrance hall into an -open central court, where a fountain was playing in the midst of -leafy trees. By the stairs and balconies surrounding it we mounted -to our bedrooms. The hotel was a new and a large one, but the almost -unexpected incursion of a party of seventy taxed the resources -of the kitchen somewhat heavily. It was not till breakfast-time, -however, that this appeared: the Damascenes had evidently thought -it a good opportunity to get rid of stores of eggs which had passed -the first bloom of freshness. But there was no other ground of -complaint. A large staff of native waiters had been drafted in to -attend us in the large chilly dining saloon--for we were out of "the -season." Before leaving the dinner-table we were warned that if -anyone ventured into the streets he must, by law, carry a lantern; -but that, as the city was full of soldiers, and a good deal of -excitement prevailed--a number of Druse prisoners being expected--we -had better stay indoors. There was not much temptation to do -otherwise after a weary day's travel beyond stepping into the street -to look up at the brilliant stars sparkling in the cold night, as -they must have done to the eyes of patriarchs and perhaps of Magi, -of Naaman and of Omar. And in the drawing-room there had actually -been lighted a real fire--a rare luxury in Syria and Palestine. Of -course, one must send some postcards to friends at home--it is not -every day you can date a letter from Damascus--and there is always -a diary waiting to be "written up"; but it was not long before we -drifted bedwards, to sleep for the first time in perhaps the most -ancient city in the world. - -[Illustration: THE STREET CALLED "STRAIGHT." - -(_Photo: Bonfils._)] - -Bright and early next morning we were at breakfast, and then -scattered in groups to walk or drive about the city and its suburbs. -It was still cold, and the natives needed the heat of the sun to -"expand" them; but it was pleasant to drive along the banks of the -Abana, which flows through the city, and feel that one was on the -extreme verge of modern civilisation. Entering "the street which -is called Straight," which traverses Damascus from west to east, -we drove slowly along, noticing the busy, prosperous look of the -city. There were not the crowds of beggars and pilgrims to be seen -in some quarters of Jerusalem. Above us were latticed windows, like -those through which, elsewhere, the mother of Sisera once looked; -and we saw bronze-work in progress, and great hanks of unspun silk, -representing two of the staple trades of Damascus. - -[Illustration: VIEW OF DAMASCUS FROM THE FORTRESS. - -(_Photo: Bonfils._)] - -We visited two houses, the first that of Shemaiah, a wealthy banker, -who was ruined by lending money to the Turkish Government. We -noticed imitations of living birds among the beautiful carved work -on the walls of the magnificent room into which we were conducted. -The house is a typical Eastern mansion, but it is now unoccupied. -Our second visit, through a narrow and not very clean alley in -the Christian Quarter, was to the traditional "House of Ananias." -Oblivious of the historic record that St. Paul lodged in the house -of Judas, in the street called Straight, and was visited there -by Ananias, local tradition shows the cave in which the meeting -took place in Ananias' house! We have to be satisfied, as in the -case of many traditional sacred sites, with the reflection, "It -was somewhere near here"; but as we continued our drive through -"Straight" Street we read St. Luke's account of that journey to -Damascus, and the events which were the means of changing the pupil -of Gamaliel into the Apostle of the Gentiles. We were reminded of -him again as we passed out of the triple East Gate. Its central arch -is now built up, as well as one of the side ones; but by this, quite -possibly, Saul was actually led in his blindness into the city. Not -far away is pointed out the window by which he was let down. The -house is in reality a modern one, but there are many examples round -us of the kind of place in the "houses on the wall," which seem -quite a feature of the city. - -[Illustration: THE MARKET, DAMASCUS. - -(_Photo: Bonfils._)] - -But Damascus has other associations, and we have to visit "the -house of Naaman," not many yards away. The traditional site is now -suitably occupied by a leper hospital; and about its gateway we can -see unhappy creatures in various stages of this living death. As we -drove away, we read the story of Naaman, and opportunely noticed, if -not a mule, at least an ass, with a "burden of earth," illustrating -the Syrian's request for material to build an altar to Jehovah. - -Pursuing our way through the suburbs, we found the roads more and -more thronged with a motley Eastern crowd. It was Friday, the -Mahometan Sabbath, which is, to some extent, a festal day; and, -further, 600 Druse prisoners were rumoured to be coming in, and -house-tops as well as streets were occupied by would-be spectators. - -A considerable force of troops, armed _cap-à-pie_ for active -service, passed us, probably on the way to the Haurân; and what with -them, and the camels, and the crowds, our drivers thought it well to -turn back, instead of going any further--as, I think, was proposed -to do--in the direction of the traditional site of St. Paul's -conversion. So, returning through the city by a different route, we -drove, past the Abana once more, to the heights of Salahiyeh away -to the north-west. From thence there is a fine view of the "Pearl -of the East," which lies, as is sometimes said, "like a spoon in -the salad," the handle being the long straggling suburb which has -grown up along the line of march by which Mecca pilgrims leave the -city year by year. The resemblance was less striking to us than it -would have been a month or two later, when the leafy springtime had -clothed in green the broad expanse of trees, spreading around the -minarets and domes and flat-roofed houses of the city. Snow-capped -Hermon stood out quite clear to the west; and towards the east were -pointed out the Meadow lakes, in which the "rivers of Damascus" -lose themselves; and we knew--if we could not clearly see--that, -beyond the limits of the oasis of which the city is the centre, the -wide desert stretched away several weary days' ride to Palmyra. The -site of St. Paul's conversion was pointed out in the distance; and, -nearer at hand, the new barracks, and in the city itself, the ruins -of the Great Mosque, once the glory of Damascus, destroyed by fire a -few years ago. - -From some such point as this Mahomet gazed upon this "earthly -paradise," fair indeed to eyes accustomed to the dreary desert; -and, declaring that man could not have his heaven both here and -hereafter, refused to enter the city. By the time we were in our -hotel once more, it was the hour for lunch; and, that over, a -party sallied forth on foot to visit the Bazaars. All the Western -associations of this word must be banished from the mind, before one -can call up a picture of the thing as it is in Cairo or Jerusalem, -or, most picturesque of all, in Damascus. The "streets," which Ahab -won the Israelites the privilege of making in this city, were, I -suppose, nothing else than bazaars. According to time-honoured -custom, we have here a classification by trades: silversmiths, -leather-merchants, silk-merchants, brass-workers, shoemakers, -sellers of "Turkish delight," and other sweets, vendors of inlaid -work and so on, all have their well-known places. Lofty arcades -cover some of the rows of little open shops, with no door but a net, -drawn across the front during its owner's absence. The shopkeepers -themselves seem to come out of the "Arabian Nights"; so does -the stream of passengers on foot or horseback, or with mules or -donkeys, or even in carriages, passing through these busy scenes of -traffic. On our way thither, we stopped for a moment to admire the -"Plane-tree of Omar," the growth, according to tradition, of the -staff which the prophet's brother planted here. It is a grand old -tree. - -Our dragoman undertook to do our shopping for us, but the sad -experience we gained suggested (to say the least of it) that in such -cases there is an understanding between him and the dealers not -always to the advantage of the buyer. - -As to the Eastern method of trade, it is, more or less, the same -everywhere, with few exceptions. You ask the price of the article; -the shopman names a figure at least twice its value; you turn away, -but, relenting, offer him a fraction of what he asks; he shrugs his -shoulders, raises his eyebrows, and probably extends his hands, -intimating that he would be ruined; you turn away again; he follows -you; you express utter indifference, but, at length, repeat your -offer, and, when this haggling has gone on long enough, carry off -your purchase for the nearest approach you can get to its real -value. I have heard of a bargain going on for a week! What between -ignorance of the language, ignorance of the coinage, and ignorance -of the value of the article, shopping in Damascus is venturesome -work for travellers. With such purchases as we had secured, we -wended our way homeward. - -Some of our party invited friends engaged in missionary work -in the city to dine with us, and from them we gathered many -interesting scraps of information about the life and work of British -missionaries under the Turkish flag. As to political events, even in -their immediate neighbourhood, our friends told us they knew less -than folks at home, and had to wait for the London papers to know -the facts. As regarded personal danger, they went quietly on with -their work, and the recent storm seemed to have pretty well blown -over. - -After dinner the entrance-hall was full of merchants, eager to -dispose of their wares--silver and silk, antiques, such as daggers -and swords, and so on. I think they drove a pretty brisk trade. - -[Illustration: INTERIOR OF THE ENGLISH CONSUL'S HOUSE AT DAMASCUS. - -(_Photo: Bonfils._)] - -The open court soon presented another attraction. We were favoured -there with two exhibitions of Damascene physical prowess. A pair of -wrestlers, after baring themselves to the waist and greasing their -bodies plentifully enough to suit Homer himself, displayed their -skill to their own satisfaction; and a pair of doughty swordsmen -engaged in a desperate combat, in which shouting and stamping seemed -to bear an important part. They were certainly very careful not to -hurt each other, only delivering in turn careful blows to be parried -by the opponent's little shield, and then spinning round with the -force of the blow to begin a new series of feints and shoutings and -stamping. It was not a thrilling spectacle, though, of course, the -surroundings gave it a certain interest. So our day in Damascus drew -to its close, and we must be ready for an early start to-morrow. - -A glorious morning saw us betimes at the railway station, where some -of our friends from home came to see us off. About nine the train -steamed away; up the valley, over the mountains, into the clouds and -the snow, till the blue waves of the Mediterranean came in sight -once more; then down, down, down the steep descent, till we ran just -ere nightfall into Beirut. - - - - -[Illustration: GREAT ANNIVERSARIES] - -GREAT ANNIVERSARIESS - -_IN JANUARY._ - -By the Rev. A. R. Buckland, M.A., Morning Preacher at the Foundling -Hospital. - - -The month of January brings around one anniversary which, of late, -has been much in the minds of the British people. On January 26th, -1885, General Gordon was slain at Khartoum. Born at Woolwich in -1833, he had seen an extraordinary variety of service when he was -sent to withdraw the garrisons shut up in the Soudan. It is needless -to recall the circumstances of his gallant resistance in Khartoum, -and of the noble valour shown in the unsuccessful endeavour to -relieve him. The annals of the Empire can present to us men whose -careers have been no less varied than that of Gordon, and soldiers -whose piety has been as deep. Yet few of them have ever touched the -public imagination as did the man who faced his death at Khartoum -fourteen years ago. - -[Illustration: FOX'S MONUMENT IN THE ABBEY. - -(_Photo: York and Son, Notting Hill, W._)] - -The anniversaries of December brought together two rival statesmen -of the first rank; so do the anniversaries of this present month. -On January 24th, 1749, Charles James Fox was born. On January 23rd, -1806, his rival, William Pitt, died. They passed away within a few -months of each other, and lie together in Westminster Abbey, hard by -the scene of their many struggles. - -[Illustration: WILLIAM CHILLINGWORTH.] - -To the month of January belongs Francis Bacon, who was born on the -22nd. Posterity finds it an unpleasant task to join in the same -thoughts the man who deserted his friends in the hour of their -need, and used the highest office for the base ends of personal and -financial aggrandisement, and the man who wrote the "Advancement of -Learning" and the "Novum Organum." But Francis Bacon is not the only -person whose practice has not always squared with the principles he -taught to others. He died at Highgate in 1626. - -To the same month belongs another philosopher, George Berkeley, -Bishop of Cloyne. Born in 1685, he is remembered mainly for the -system of philosophy associated with his name, which treats the -exterior material world as existing only in the mind. Few now -think of him as one of the first to feel deeply interested in the -spiritual necessities of the heathen. He was the originator of a -project for converting the savages of America through the agency of -a college to be established at Bermuda. - -"The Bible only is the religion of Protestants." The author of -this oft-quoted and often misinterpreted saying was William -Chillingworth, who died on January 30th, 1644. The sentence comes -from his chief work, "The Religion of Protestants a Safe Way to -Salvation." Chillingworth, who was born in 1602, and educated at -Oxford, fell under the influence of Fisher, Laud's great opponent in -the controversy with Rome, and was received into the Roman Church. -But his mind was soon unsettled again, and Laud, his godfather, -brought him back once more to the Church of England. He returned -to Oxford, and gave himself to the defence of Protestantism. -Chillingworth was a devoted Royalist, and saw service on the King's -side in the Civil War. He died at Chichester, and was buried in the -cathedral. - -A contemporary of Chillingworth, born on January 25th, 1627, -deserves also to be remembered in this place. Robert Boyle was -the son of the great Earl of Cork, a conspicuous figure in the -Stuart times. Educated at Eton, he settled down at Stalbridge in -Dorsetshire to the study of natural philosophy. He found a place -amongst the chief men of science of his day, and became one of -the originators of the Royal Society. His foundation of the Boyle -Lectures "for proving the Christian religion against Atheists, -Deists, Pagans, Jews, and Mohammedans," was a witness, no doubt, to -the mental struggles through which he himself had passed. He was, -however, an active layman, full of good works, and one of the early -friends of foreign missions. Boyle died in 1691, and was buried in -Westminster Abbey. - -[Illustration: SIR SIDNEY WATERLOW. - -(_Photo: Walery, Ltd., Regent Street, W._)] - -On the thirteenth of the month, in the year 1838, died Lord -Chancellor Eldon. He was one of a family of sixteen, the son of -a Newcastle coal-fitter. He also might have been a coal-fitter, -but his elder brother was at Oxford, on the way to becoming Lord -Stowell. To him John Scott was sent, and the younger son, like the -elder, used his Oxford chances well. He made a runaway marriage, -and at one time seemed likely to take holy orders; but, helped by -their parents, the young couple came to London. John Scott, after -some waiting, made his mark in the Court of Chancery, and then went -steadily on to the Woolsack. In politics, an unbending Tory, he -distrusted all reform. But he was a good lawyer, though harassed by -a capacity for doubting and the love of an "if." - -[Illustration: DR. JAMES WAKLEY. - -(_Photo: Barraud, Oxford Street, W._)] - -To the month of January belongs the establishment of the Hospital -Sunday Fund. From the year 1869 to the year 1872 the late Dr. James -Wakley, editor of the _Lancet_, urged the establishment of such a -fund; but it was not until January 16th, 1873, that the meeting -which gave birth to the movement was held in the Mansion House. Sir -Sidney Waterlow was Lord Mayor that year, and he became the first -treasurer and president of the fund. - -There are several anniversaries in the month of January which have a -peculiar interest for the supporters of foreign missions. On January -16th, 1736, the Rev. John Wesley was appointed by the Society for -the Propagation of the Gospel a missionary for Georgia. On January -9th, 1752, the Rev. T. Thompson, the first missionary sent to West -Africa, landed at Fort Gambia. On January 1st, 1861, the heroic -Bishop C. F. Mackenzie was consecrated in the cathedral at Capetown, -the first bishop for Central Africa. There is no more pathetic story -in the history of foreign missions than the account of his short -episcopate. He was the first bishop consecrated in the Colonies for -a region outside the limits of the British Empire. - -[Illustration: BISHOP MACKENZIE.] - - - - -[Illustration: PLEDGED] - -PLEDGED - -By Katharine Tynan, Author of "A Daughter of Erin," Etc. - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - -MOTHER AND SON. - - -"I have bad news for you, Anthony," said Lady Jane Trevithick, when -the butler had at last closed the door behind him, and mother and -son were left together. - -"Not very bad, I trust, mother?" - -"It is about your poor Uncle Wilton. I did not bother you with it -till you had had your dinner. He is ill." - -"Ill? What's the matter with him?" - -"A very serious collapse, I'm afraid. The last letter said he was -unconscious. You'll have to go to him, Anthony, I suppose." - -"His state is not dangerous? Surely not, or you would not have -delayed about telling me?" - -"There is no immediate fear," said Lady Jane coldly. "I have only -known of his illness a few days. If you had not been coming, I -should have wired to you, of course. But since you were coming, I -didn't see the use of it. The doctor said that everything was being -done." - -"Poor old Uncle Wilton. He is alone and ill, then?" - -"He is always alone, so I do not see that that fact adds anything to -his being ill." - -"Of course, I must go to him. I didn't want to, though. Not just -now." - -He looked up at his mother's handsome face, almost as though he -longed to find some tenderness in it; but there was none. Lady Jane, -a superb figure in her brocade and diamonds, was calmly waving her -fan to and fro, as if no such things as illness or loneliness or -death existed in the world. - -"You won't rush away, headlong? You can spare a day or two to -me--and to Kitty?" She smiled frostily. "Kitty has been looking -forward to your coming, Anthony." - -"It is very good of Lady Kitty," he said, contracting his eyebrows -in a frown. "She is still with you, then?" - -"She is good enough to brighten up my loneliness, dear child. I -don't know what I should do without Kitty." - -"You seem to get on well together." - -Again his fingers drummed impatiently. - -"She is a dear child to me," said Lady Jane, her face becoming -almost warm. "I wish she had been my daughter, really." - -"You would rather have her than your son, mother?" - -"You have never given me any trouble, Anthony, but you are more your -father's child than mine." - -"Some women would have loved me all the more," said the boy, again -frowning heavily. - -He took a cigar and lit it. Then he said, with apparent -carelessness-- - -"It was good of Lady Kitty to go out to-night. I suppose she thought -we would have things to talk about after nearly six months of -absence." - -"Oh, dear, no," said the mother. "It was an old engagement, that was -all. Kitty knows I'm not sentimental." - -"Except where she is concerned." - -"I shall think you are jealous, Anthony," and as she spoke the -half-softened expression momentarily lit her face. - -"Of whom, mother?" - -"Not of your mother, Anthony." - -The young man again made an impatient movement. - -"You are not interested in my six months of absence." - -"Among savages, my poor Anthony." - -"They are not the least bit in the world savages, mother. They are -very charming people." - -"I daresay, but who are _they_?" - -"Mr. Graydon--and his family." - -"Oh, I didn't know he had a family. Of course, he was married -before he sold out. He married beneath him. It was something rather -disgraceful, I think. Afterwards--he went under." - -"I am sure he did nothing disgraceful, mother. He would be no more -capable of it than--my father. Besides, I have seen Mrs. Graydon's -picture; it hangs over his study mantelpiece. She was a lovely young -woman, and very distinctly a lady." - -Lady Jane yawned. - -"Indeed! I am not interested in Mr. Graydon's family affairs. I know -he married beneath him." - -"Mother, why do you detest Graydon so much?" - -At the point-blank question a dark flush rose to Lady Jane's cheek. - -"I am not aware that I detest him. You are like your father, always -making absurd friendships, and jumping to absurd conclusions." - -"I am glad to be like my father." - -She said nothing, and he went on, "Yes, of course, I must go to -uncle at once. If I go to Liverpool to-morrow night, I should get a -boat on Thursday. Yet I did not want to go now." - -His mother glanced over her shoulder at him. There was an expectancy -in her face which brightened and softened it. - -"No, surely. Why, you haven't yet even seen Kitty. She will be vexed -that she was out." - -"I wasn't thinking of Lady Kitty." - -"Oh!" and her face stiffened again. "I don't profess to understand -the young men of the present generation." - -"Mother," said the young man--and he blushed like a girl--"tell me -plainly: how much truth is there in what you are always suggesting, -that Lady Kitty's affections are involved where I am concerned?" - -"What do you mean, Anthony? It is a question you should ask Kitty -yourself. You are not afraid of the answer, surely?" - -"I hope she cares nothing for me." - -"You _hope_!" cried Lady Jane incredulously. - -"Yes," said her son doggedly. "It is a disgustingly foppish thing -for a man to have to say; but I hope it----" - -"Are you mad, Anthony?" - -"Not that I know, mother. You have always suggested a marriage -between us, and have behaved as if there were some such -understanding, but it has been entirely your doing. I was a young -idiot not to have put my foot on it long ago, but worse than that I -have not been." - -"You will not dare to play with Kitty." - -His mother had stood up and faced him, and her eyes blazed at him. - -"I play with no lady," said her son, meeting her glance steadily. "I -have fetched and carried for Kitty, because she was always here, and -a woman--and young and pretty perhaps; I have never said a word of -love to her." - -"You have allowed it to be understood; and if you play her false -now, you will kill her. You know how delicate she is. She is dearer -to me than you are, ten thousand times over." - -The young man bowed stiffly. - -"I daresay, but that is no reason why you should persuade me that -your will is, or has been, or ever will be, mine." - -"Kitty's money would make you very rich." - -"That would be the last reason, mother." - -"If you brought me Kitty for a daughter, I should love you." - -"I have grown used to doing without your love." - -Her eyes blazed at him again. - -"There is someone else, I suppose?" - -"There is someone else," he repeated after her. - -"Not someone you have met over there?" - -"Yes." - -"I thought ill would come of it; but you cared no more for my wishes -than your father before you. Who is it?" - -"I am sorry you are so bitter, mother. It is Mr. Graydon's daughter." - -"Archibald Graydon's daughter!" - -She put her hand to her throat with an hysterical gesture which he -had never before observed in her. Her face was livid with anger, and -for a moment its expression shocked him. - -"You are going to jilt my Kitty for that man's daughter!" she cried, -when she had recovered her power of speech. - -"There is no question of jilting Lady Kitty," he answered steadily. -"But I am certainly going to marry Mr. Graydon's daughter, Pamela." - -"Some wild savage." - -"A beautiful and gentle girl." - -"You will be beggars together." - -"Not necessarily. We shall not be very rich, but that is another -thing." - -Lady Jane turned from him, and gazed at the fire. For several -minutes there was silence between them. Then she spoke again without -looking at him. - -"You will go your own way, I suppose--only give me time to soften -the blow it will be to Kitty." - -He would have spoken, but she lifted her hand with an imperious -gesture, and went on-- - -"Kitty loves you. Why she should I do not know, but, most -unfortunately, it is true. I shall never speak of it again after -this. Give me time, I beg you." - -There was something imploring in her gesture. - -"You can have plenty of time," he said. "But even yet I cannot -believe she loves me. A woman's love is not given on such slight -grounds. Why, I have never pressed her hand even." - -"You know nothing about it. Would it have made any difference to you -if you had believed she loved you?" - -[Illustration: "=You will not dare to play with Kitty.="--_p. 203._] - -"None. I love once and for ever." - -"If I believed that to be true, I should be sorry for you." - -"It is true, mother." - -She waved him off contemptuously. - -"It is true of a few people in this world, but you are not one of -them." - -"Mere assertion is nothing." - -"Are you engaged to this--this young woman?" She brought the words -out with a jerk. - -"In honour, yes; formally, no." - -"Ah, then you will go away, and I shall have my own time for telling -Kitty." - -"Yes, if you wish for it." - -"You will not engage yourself to the girl till Kitty knows?" - -"You are exacting, mother. I have to think of Miss Graydon too." - -"You can think of her all your life. It is my Kitty that is to be -deserted and betrayed. You don't know what you are doing." - -"Mother, it is some mania of yours. Desertion and betrayal are -strong words." - -"Let them pass. Technically, I suppose you are free from reproach." - -He made a weary gesture, and let her speech pass without answer. - -Suddenly the silence of the room was broken by the _frou-frou_ of a -silk dress in the corridor outside. - -"Ah, here is my Kitty," said Lady Jane. "Are you cold, my darling? -and was your party pleasant? Come to the fire." - -A young lady, slight and brilliantly fair, had entered the room -languidly. - -"So you have come, Anthony," she said, extending a white hand to -him. "I hope you had a pleasant journey." - -He helped her to take off her cloak, and she seated herself, as if -by right, in the most comfortable chair in the room. The fire leaped -and sparkled in the grate and brought millions of rays from the -diamonds in her hair and on her neck. - -"How cosy you are here!" she said. "It was a horrid party--so dull! -That is why I came home early." - -"You would like some tea?" said Lady Jane. - -"Yes, please. Oh, thank you," as Anthony rang the bell. "It is -pleasant to see you home again." - -[Illustration: =Lady Jane stooped and kissed her tenderly.=--_p. -206._] - -"He is leaving us very soon," said Lady Jane, and her tones were -again cold and measured. "He feels it his duty to go to nurse his -Uncle Wilton." - -"Why?" said the young woman, lifting her eyebrows. "Is there no one -at Washington to look after him? Or is the lot of a diplomat so -friendless?" - -Anthony frowned at her tone. - -"He is very ill, and he is my father's only brother. My place is -with him." - -"You are a self-sacrificing young man. First, you bury yourself -among Irish savages; now, at a moment's notice, you are off to nurse -the sick. I should think a valet would do quite as well." - -"Here is your tea, Lady Kitty," the young man said coldly. - -"By the way, I sat beside such a pleasant old man at dinner, Sir -Rodney Durant. He asked me about you, and I told him of your exile. -I ought to apologise for calling your hosts savages, by the way, -for he told me a most interesting story about your tutor--Graydon, -isn't it? It seems old Lord Downside cut him off with an angry penny -because he married some friendless little beauty. Scandal said the -old lord himself had pretensions. And then, to spite his heir, he -married his cook or someone, and has a wretchedly delicate little -boy of thirteen or thereabouts. Why didn't you tell me, Auntie -Janie, or did you not know?" - -"I never take notice of gossip, Kitty." - -"But is it gossip? You ought to know, for your husband and this man -were friends. To hear Sir Rodney, the man Graydon was a sort of hero -of romance." - -"An old man's stories, my dear." - -But Sir Anthony's face had brightened. - -"Graydon is a splendid fellow," he said. "I am sure he is all -Sir Rodney said." And his smile at Lady Kitty was now full of -friendliness. - -"Well, I'm sure it's nice to hear of such people nowadays," said -Lady Kitty, yawning, "I thought they only existed in books. But -such an interesting story, Auntie Janie! If you knew of it, why -didn't you tell me, instead of treating the man as a kind of bucolic -savage?" - -Lady Jane stooped and kissed her tenderly. - -"Go to bed, my darling," she said; "and don't sit up romancing. You -must have your beauty-sleep, you know." - -"Bother my beauty-sleep!" said the young lady irreverently. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - -THE GREAT EVENT. - - -The Vandaleur function was over, and for a long time to come the -young women of that part must feel a certain flatness in their days, -as one does when an event eagerly expected is over and done with. - -For the sisters the function had been a series of triumphs, to all -appearance. They had been, as Miss Spencer put it, "dressed as -befitted their position." They had not had, after all, to call in -Mrs. Cullen's Nancy, for on the Christmas Eve a delightful box had -come for each of the _débutantes_, with Miss Spencer's love. - -Pamela's contained a rather short-waisted frock of lilac silk, with -a fichu of chiffon tied softly round the shoulders. - -Sylvia's gown, made somewhat similarly, was of white satin, and her -innocent face and golden head rose out of it a vision of loveliness. - -It would be hard indeed to say which was the most beautiful girl -that night; but Sylvia held her little court, or rather augmented it -during the evening, while Pamela's, somehow, seemed to melt and fall -away. - -Miss Spencer found a comfortable seat for herself in one of the long -galleries after dinner, and remained there, while one or another of -her old cronies and admirers came up to talk with her. - -She was almost as great a success in her way as Sylvia, of -whom she caught glimpses now and again, waving her immense fan -where she stood in the centre of the gallery, and playing with -the conversation about her much as one plays at battledore and -shuttlecock. - -"The child will do," said Miss Spencer to herself, when Sir John -Beaumont, an old admirer of hers, had gone to fetch her some -refreshment. "Wonderful how she makes all those men look so -delighted with her and themselves! It reminds me of a girl who could -do that. Who was it? And what happened afterwards?... Ah! Pamela," -she said, speaking aloud, "so you have come to see what I am doing." - -"To stay with you awhile, Miss Spencer," said Pamela, creeping into -the shadowy corner beside her. - -"And where are all the beaux, my dear? It is not as if your heart -was elsewhere." - -Pamela smiled a wan little smile. - -"I'm tired, Miss Spencer. I can't keep it up like Sylvia." - -"Hoity-toity, _tired_! No, you can't be tired. It will be years -before there is another event like this. Let me call Mr. Wandesforde -over there to take you to hear this Dublin singer, Madame Squallini, -or whatever the woman's name is. All the people have gone trooping -off to the music-room to hear her." - -"Please don't, dear Miss Spencer, I would so much rather sit here by -you. I have heard a great many fine singers already." - -"Why, what's come to you, Pam? You used to be as full of fun as -Sylvia. Now you are like a girl whose lover has gone away--I know -how such a one would feel--and has never come back to her." - -Sir John Beaumont returned at this moment. - -"I don't know whether your father or your sister is in the greatest -demand, Miss Graydon," he said. "I heard peals of laughter as -I passed the sitting-room, and, looking in, I saw your father -delighting them. He's a charming fellow, upon my word. He's wasted -on rusticity." - -"Indeed, Sir John, I suppose the rustics ought all to be plain and -stupid," said Miss Spencer. - -"Ah, my dear lady," murmured the old gentleman, "that would be to do -without you." - -"Oh, I daresay; you always had a pretty speech ready. And what about -Pam here?" - -"Miss Pamela belongs to the country, as lilies and roses do." - -"She likes to bloom in the shade," said Miss Spencer, a bit -irritably. "What do you think of a girl who prefers to sit in the -corner rather than hold a court as her younger sister is doing?" - -"It's cruel to the young fellows, Miss Pamela--that's what it is." - -"It isn't as if she were an engaged girl." - -"Ah! that would be rough on the young fellows, before they had more -than a chance of seeing her." - -Pamela listened to this brisk interchange between her elders with a -faint smile. She certainly looked tired, and as the evening went on -she held her quiet place by Miss Spencer, who was very animated, and -talked enough to cover her silence. - -Once she had realised that Pamela was really tired and wanted to sit -still, her kindness of heart was aroused. She even waved off the -swains who came at intervals to coax Pamela out of her corner. - -At last the evening, which Pamela had felt endless, was really -drawing to an end. - -"You poor dears," said Sylvia, standing over them, and still waving -her great fan, "I'm afraid I've been keeping you out of your beds an -unconscionable time." - -"Hear her!" cried Miss Spencer. "You'd think we were her -grandmothers." - -"Only Pam," said Sylvia. "I've been watching you. You didn't seem to -find it dull." - -Miss Spencer laughed, well pleased. - -"I'm afraid we're much of a muchness," she said; "but your sister -here, I'm disappointed in her. I think she has a headache, poor -child. It isn't as if she had a lover now." - -Pamela did not answer, but walked meekly by Miss Spencer's side, -with Sir John Beaumont murmuring his old-world compliments in her -ear. - -Sylvia went on before, surrounded by a phalanx of black coats, which -escorted her to Miss Spencer's carriage. - -Pam listened to all the gay good-nights with a throbbing head and an -extreme flatness and dulness of spirit. - -"Graydon'll be up all night," said Miss Spencer as they rolled away. -"He enjoyed himself immensely and added to the enjoyment of others. -Your father's well-fitted to shine in society, girls. 'Tis a pity, -as Beaumont says, he should be shut up here." - -"Didn't he propose Mr. Vandaleur's health beautifully after dinner?" -said Sylvia. "I sat where I could see him, and all the time he had a -twinkle in his eye." - -"He ought to be in Parliament himself," said Miss Spencer -emphatically. "Vandaleur isn't worth a rush." - -"But what was the matter with Pam?" asked Sylvia. "Why, Pam's -asleep!" - -[Illustration: =Her kindness of heart was aroused.=] - -"Never mind your sister, minx, but tell me about your conquests. -Which of them did you like best?" - -"Let me see," said Sylvia. "There was Captain Vavasour--from the -barracks. He asked leave to call." - -"Did he, indeed, and what did you say?" - -"I told him yes, if he'd chance finding me unemployed. I'd so much -to do feeding the fowls, and washing the dogs, and keeping the pony -clean, let alone my household duties." - -"Why, you've none, except eating the jam--and that's a pleasure. -What did he say?" - -"He said he'd be enchanted to help me at any of these occupations." - -"That was nice of him. What about the other lad from the barracks?" - -"Mr. Baker? Oh, I like him. He's game for anything. He's coming -ratting with Pat one day. He has an English terrier, but I told him -he wouldn't be a patch on Pat." - -"You talked of ratting in that frock?" - -"Yes, he was delighted. He confessed it was a passion with him." - -"I saw you talking to the Master. He's a fine-looking fellow, but -not a patch on Tom Charteris." - -[Illustration: "Wake up, sleepy-head!"] - -"He asked me why I didn't hunt. I said I often thought of doing it -on Neddy, only he was a buck-jumper. He said that wouldn't matter, -except that all the world would be riding to hounds on donkeys -presently and taking the ditches backward. He, too, is coming to -call. They're all coming to call. I should like to see Bridget's -face when she's expected to provide afternoon tea. If they keep -ringing at the door, she won't pretend not to hear them; she has -the excuse that the bell's broken. Then they'll have to go away in -tears. I told that young St. Quintin, the Eton boy, so. He said, -after he'd done crying, he'd come in by the window. I really believe -he would. He's so cheeky." - -"But you don't tell me which you liked best. I daresay they all -thought you no end of a minx." - -"Let me see," said Sylvia, with a dispassionate air. "Why, Lord -Glengall, of course." - -"Glengall! with his hatchet face and his forty odd years!" - -"I think he has a dear face; his eyes are just like Pat's." - -"I wouldn't think of Glengall--that is, if I were free." - -"Ah, you see, I don't care seriously for boys. I like them well -enough to talk to; but Glengall one can take seriously." - -"He didn't join your court, though." - -"No, he wouldn't. I actually went up to have a little chat with him, -and he said, as if I were four years old: 'Now you must go and talk -to the boys, Miss Sylvia. I don't want a dozen duels on my hands.'" - -"I daresay he thought you a forward minx." - -"I don't think he would. Only he would take some persuading to -believe that I really preferred talking to him. He stood in a corner -then, and watched Pam out of his nice, kind, faithful eyes." - -"He wouldn't have any nonsense in his head about Pam? You don't mean -that?" - -"Oh, I don't think he's in love with Pam. He'd look just the same at -me if he thought I was tired or melancholy. I think I'll try it." - -"Let him alone, minx. But here we are," as the carriage stopped. -"Wake up, sleepy-head!"--to Pam--"you can get to bed as fast as you -like now." - -But even when Pam was in bed, Sylvia still paced up and down, waving -her big fan. - -"I'm too excited to sleep, you old dunderhead," she said. "I wish it -was all to come over again." - -"You will be tired in the morning, Sylvia." - -"No, I shan't; I shall be as fresh as possible. I shall dream it all -over again. There, wait till I've brushed my hair, and I'll let you -go to sleep. Not that I can understand your wanting to sleep; you -were just as keen about this as I was." - -"Yes," said Pam, languidly. - -"I'm downright disappointed in you. Don't you know I'd have enjoyed -it all twice as much if you were enjoying it too? I'm glad papa was -there; the glances of enjoyment he sent me from the high table were -exhilarating. Wasn't it nice the way all those little round tables -were set out? And didn't Vandaleur junior do his duty well as a -host? By the way, wasn't it low of Trevithick not to come back after -all?" - -"I daresay there was some good reason." - -"Then he ought to have said there was. It is very uncivil to papa, -too, not to return on the date arranged, and not to write." - -"He couldn't mean to be uncivil," said Pamela, faintly. - -"I'll tell you what. If I hadn't eaten those old sweets he sent me -at Christmas I'd fire them back at his head: wouldn't you his old -violets if they weren't dead and gone?" - -Pamela touched in her dark corner a little basket of withered -violets, which, for reasons best known to herself, she had taken to -bed with her. - -"You are too impulsive, Sylvia," she said, stung out of her silence. -"Why should Sir Anthony be uncivil or unkind? I know he meant to -return to-night." - -"So I heard him say," said Sylvia, cynically; "but I never mind -those boys, Pam; they've no ballast." - -"Oh, Sylvia! I'm sure Sir Anthony has plenty of ballast. There must -be some explanation, and when we have heard it you'll be ashamed of -your rash judgment." - -"Not I, for if it isn't true of him, it's true of most youths of his -age. Do you think his mother's at the bottom of it, Pam?" - -"How should I know, Sylvia? What makes you think of her?" - -"Well, from something he let fall one day, I guessed that she didn't -want him to come here. Then he showed me her photograph in his -album. She looked chock-full of pride and insolence. I believe a -woman who looked like that would do anything." - -"I should think Sir Anthony would know his own mind in the matter." - -"I daresay, but she may have been up to some mischief. And talking -of mothers makes me think of Glengall." - -"Why should it, Sylvia?" - -"Well, there was that old mother of his. Think of his hard years, -poor dear! No prosperity would wipe out the traces. He is as -anxious-looking as Pat, and Pat is the very image of Micky Morrissy, -who is always six months in arrear with his rent, and expects a -notice of eviction any day. I say, Pam"--suddenly--"would you marry -Glengall?" - -"Sylvia!" - -"Would you? I know he's nearly as old as dad, and all that--but -would you?" - -"No, Sylvia." - -"Well, then, I would. But he likes you better than me." - -"He likes us both as his friend's little girls." - -"I know; he'd never think of us in any other light. Still, if he -liked me best, I'd make him think." - -"How, Sylvia?" - -"Why, I'd just ask him to marry me." - -"He'd think you wanted the gold." - -"That he wouldn't. It shows how little you know of him." - -"Well, then, other people would." - -"We shouldn't care about that." - -"We? Who?" - -"Glengall and I." - -"Sylvia, you're talking as if you were really in earnest." - -"So I am, but he likes you better than me. You ought to marry him, -Pam." - -But, to Sylvia's dismay, Pamela suddenly burst into tears. - -"I shall never marry anyone," she cried amid her sobs. - -"You poor dear old duffer, I was advising you for your good. But -you're tired out. There, go asleep. I shan't take you to any more -functions." - -And Sylvia blew out the candle and jumped into bed. But Pamela, with -the withered violets close to her, cried herself to sleep. - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - -"THE WORLD IS SO CRUEL." - - -"There's a horse-fair at Kilmacredden on Saturday," said Lord -Glengall. "I was thinking you might find time to come along with me -and see what's to be picked up." - -"It isn't time I'd be wanting," said Mr. Graydon, "and you know it -isn't inclination." - -"Very well, then, you'll come. We'll have to make an early start and -give the mare her time over the mountain. Will four o'clock do?" - -"For me, yes. Will you get up on Saturday morning and see that -there's a cup of tea ready for me by four o'clock?" - -This to Sylvia, who was demurely making tea at a side-table. - -"You know I will. Next to being up all night I like to get up before -daybreak." - -Lord Glengall broke into a slow smile as he turned to look at the -speaker. He sat astride a small chair, with his chin resting on the -back. He still wore the frieze coat which he had on when he entered; -and with his clean-shaven, melancholy face and deep-set eyes, he -looked like nothing so much as a hard-pressed mountain farmer, -just as Sylvia had described him. Yet the smile was one of great -sweetness, and the mingled simplicity and shrewdness of the face -were far from being unattractive. - -[Illustration: Lady Jane looked a little flurried.] - -"'Tis well for you, Graydon," he said, "to have little girls to do -the like for you." - -"You must marry, Glengall, and be properly taken care of," said Mr. -Graydon. - -"I'm past marrying," said Lord Glengall; "I leave that to the girls -and boys." - -"They'd make foolish marriages," said Sylvia, "if they were left to -themselves." - -Lord Glengall smiled more broadly. - -"'Tis a prudent little woman you're owning, Graydon," he said. "You -should turn match-maker, Miss Sylvia." - -"For you, Lord Glengall?" - -"I'll go bail you'd find no one to have me, Miss Sylvia." - -"If I do will you entertain the proposal, Lord Glengall?" - -"Provided she's not too old and will marry me for myself." - -"I think I can find her for you, Lord Glengall." - -"Come, Sylvia, give Glengall his tea, and don't be talking -nonsense," said Mr. Graydon, laughing. - -"Here it is for you, Lord Glengall, just as you like it--hot, strong -and sweet." - -"Thank you, Miss Sylvia; it's as good as ever I made for myself in -the Bush." - -The two men fell to talking of business matters, while Sylvia -manipulated the teacups. Now and again she looked towards the door. -Mary was finishing her letter to Mick in the chilly room upstairs, -and Pamela had taken the dogs for a walk. - -"If they don't come soon," muttered Sylvia over her teacup, "this -tea won't be fit to drink, and Bridget's in no humour to make more." - -A rat-tat at the hall-door knocker interrupted her meditations. - -"Some of those young fellows from the barracks, Sylvia," suggested -her father. - -"It can't be," said Sylvia. "Mr. Baker was here yesterday, and Mr. -De Quincy on Tuesday, and Captain Vavasour's coming to-morrow." - -"Lady Jane Trevithick," announced Bridget, flinging the door open. - -"Oh, dear!" muttered Sylvia; "and it's one of Bridget's bad days -when she won't wear an apron. Now, where has the woman dropped from?" - -Lady Jane swept across the room magnificent in purple and sables. - -"How do you do?" said Mr. Graydon, going to meet her. "This _is_ a -pleasure. My daughter, Lady Jane. My friend, Glengall. No, don't sit -there. There's a dog in that chair." - -For a self-possessed woman Lady Jane looked a little flurried. -Without meeting her host's gaze, she took the chair he handed her, -and turned it so that she sat with her back to the light. She bowed -in answer to his introductions, and, having seated herself, spoke in -a voice which she tried hard to keep under control. - -"I find myself unexpectedly almost a neighbour of yours, Mr. -Graydon, and I did myself the pleasure of calling." - -"You are very good, Lady Jane." - -He looked at her with kindly scrutiny. Perhaps he was trying to find -in the middle-aged face the features of the proud and stately girl -who had married his dearest friend years ago. If so, the darkness in -which she sat baffled him. - -"I am staying with Mr. Verschoyle," she went on; "I suppose you -count him a neighbour?" - -"Yes, as country neighbours go. I have met him sometimes on the -Bench. I was not aware you knew him." - -Lady Jane did not say that she had disinterred an old and almost -forgotten invitation in order to lead up to this visit. - -"I knew him years ago," she said. "But, by the way, have you heard -from my boy?" - -"Not directly--nothing since your Ladyship's letter." - -"That is careless of Anthony! But he is nursing his uncle, you know, -and I daresay is finding time for a little mild amusement as well." - -"Trevithick is no better?" - -"No, I am sorry to say. There is no saying when he will be better, -or if he will ever be really better. My son thinks he ought to stay -with him, however." - -"I am sure he is right," said Mr. Graydon, heartily. - -"And this is--Pamela, I suppose?" said Lady Jane, turning her head -with forced graciousness to Sylvia, who was bringing her her tea. - -"No; Pam will be here presently. This is Sylvia, my youngest girl." - -"I am very much indebted to you all, Mr. Graydon, for making my son -so happy. He was grieved not to return to you, I know." - -Still her eyes never met those of her host. - -Seeing that he was practically ignored in the conversation, Lord -Glengall got up awkwardly, and with a bow to the visitor, and an -affectionate nod to Sylvia, took himself off. - -"Ugh!" said Lady Jane to herself; "he smells of the stables! And to -think of Archie Graydon coming down to associate with such bucolics!" - -Mary came in a little later and was introduced. Then came Pam. The -February air had blown a fitful flame into her cheeks, and when -she entered the drawing-room, not knowing there was a visitor, -Lady Jane's name blew the flame higher, and then extinguished it -altogether. - -Her father watched her curiously, as she stood looking gravely down -into Lady Jane's face. The lady, who could be gracious when she -liked, held Pamela's hand a minute, and there was a caress in her -voice as she spoke to her. - -"I can't feel," she said to Mr. Graydon, "that your girls are -strangers to me. I have heard such charming things about them from -my son." - -"Well, indeed," said Mr. Graydon, to whom belief in the goodwill -of all the world came easily, "I should hope that we need not be -strangers to a Trevithick. I have never forgotten my love for -Gerald, Lady Jane." - -"He was devoted to you," said the widow. - -No one could have supposed from Lady Jane's manner that the visit -was a painful and difficult ordeal to her. Yet, when she was seated -in her carriage again, and had driven out of sight of Mr. Graydon, -bowing bare-headed on the doorstep, she drew a sigh of actual -physical relief. - -Mr. Graydon returned to the drawing-room, rubbing his hands together. - -"What a charming woman!" he said, coming up to the fire. - -"I call her a cat!" said Sylvia, concisely. - -"Oh, Sylvia!" cried Mary Graydon and her father simultaneously; but -Pamela said nothing. Lady Jane, for all her _empressement_, had not -made Pamela believe in her; indeed, Lady Jane was not sufficiently -an actress to deceive any but the most simple people. It was new to -her to play a part--to pretend fondness and friendship where she -felt arrogant dislike; and, to give her her due, she had played it -badly. - -The day after Mr. Graydon had gone to the horse-fair with Lord -Glengall, he came out of the study as Pamela was going languidly -upstairs, and called her in. He put her in a comfortable chair by -the fire, and then stood leaning on the dusty mantelpiece, and -regarding her with a wistful and tender gaze. - -"Not well, Pam?" he said at last. - -"A little out-of-sorts," she answered, dropping her eyes before his -gaze. - -"When did it begin, Pam--this being out-of-sorts? Up to Christmas I -thought you were blooming like a wild rose." - -Pamela made a movement as if to escape. - -"One is not always just the same," she said; "and you fancy things, -dad." - -"Glengall noticed it, too. Don't go, child--we haven't finished our -conversation." - -"Lord Glengall is as fatherly to us as you are. He is always -watching us like a mother-hen over a brood of ducklings." - -Pamela spoke with an attempt at her old sparkle, but her face -retained the cold dulness which had fallen upon it of late, and -which made the father's heart ache to see it. - -"Glengall is a good fellow, Pam," he said, wistfully. - -"He's a dear," said Pam, in her listless way. - -"A girl might do worse than marry Glengall." - -"That's what Sylvia says." - -"Sylvia's a wise child. And what do you think, Pam?" - -"I?--I haven't thought about it." - -"Could you think of it, Pam?" - -Pamela looked at him incredulously. - -"Poor Glengall would like to marry you, Pam. He's troubled about -you, poor fellow. He'd like to take you away, and show you all the -beautiful world, and lavish his wealth upon you. Could you do it, -Pam?" - -To his consternation, Pam put down her head on the study-table, and -burst into tears. - -"There, Pam, there! I didn't mean to distress you, and I know -Glengall wouldn't for the world. I only told you because I thought -you ought to know. He has no hope at all himself--and would never -ask you, I am sure. Only he is so good. I should know a little girl -of mine was safe with him." - -Pam still sobbed, with her face buried in the dusty papers. - -"There, there, child!" said her father, "don't think about it any -more. Poor Glengall! Of course, I know he's too old, and you are -only a child; and he'd be the first to say the young should marry -the young." - -"I don't want to marry anyone," sobbed Pam. "Why can't I join a -sisterhood and be at peace?" - -Mr. Graydon passed his hand fondly over the rumpled curls. - -"You'd hate it, Pam, that's what you would. You'd come back again in -a week." - -"I hate the world!" cried Pam. "The world is so cruel." - -"Poor little girl!" said her father wistfully, though he smiled at -the same time. - -"Pam," he said suddenly, "is there--is there anyone else?" - -"There isn't," sobbed Pam, "and if there was, I wouldn't tell you." - -"I only asked, Pam, because I thought I might be able to help you." - -"No one can help me," cried Pam, "except by letting me alone." - -"Very well, then," said her father patiently. "I'll let you alone. -Only dry your eyes, and be comforted. I'm afraid you'll have to wash -your face, Pam. You've been flooding my old tattered Euripides with -your tears, and you've carried off half the dust from him. There, -child, be comforted. I won't say another word about Glengall. He's -just like myself, poor fellow, only anxious to take care of you. -Sure, I know you're a child, and ought to have your freedom for -years yet." - -"I wish her mother were here now," said Mr. Graydon, as he closed -the door behind his daughter. - -He looked up at the pure and innocent face of his wife's portrait. - -"I wish I had your wisdom, darling," he muttered. "It is so hard for -a man to deal with little girls. And, ah! what they lost when you -went to heaven!" - -He sat before his study-fire deep in thought. Then he got up and -paced the room to and fro, with his brows knitted and his hands -behind his back. - -"I'll do it," he said, half-aloud, at last. "I expect money -difficulties would really stand in the way. I know Trevithick died -poor, and Lady Jane had little of her own. The lad _must_ love her -if she loves him. And it will smooth the way. At worst I shall only -suffer a rebuff. I can bear it for the sake of Mary's children. And -poor Molly too! Why need she spend her girlhood fretting for her -lover when a little money would make things straight?" - -He sat down and his face cleared. Again he looked up at the -benignant eyes of the portrait. - -"I am doing the best I can for them, Mary," he said, speaking aloud -as if to a living person. - -That evening he announced his intention of taking a run to London -during the following week. Such an unusual thing in their quiet life -provoked an outcry of surprise from his daughters. - -"I may be an old fossil," he said, "but I'm not a limpet attached -to a rock. Perhaps I'm tired of you all. Perhaps I'm starved -for a walk down Piccadilly, or a visit to a good concert hall. -Perhaps--perhaps." - -But he gave them no explanation after all of his reason for going. - -One event crowded upon another. The next morning, at breakfast, -Mr. Graydon drew out a large, boldly addressed envelope from the -post-bag. - -"Now, who can this be from?" he said, putting it down and looking at -it curiously. "'London, W.' Now, who'd be writing to me?" - -"Better open it and see," said Sylvia, daintily chipping the top off -her egg. - -Mr. Graydon broke the seal and read it. - -"It's from Lady Jane Trevithick," he said soberly; "a very civil -letter. She's sorry she wasn't able to call again; and--and--she -wants to know if one of you girls--she mentions Pam, I see--will go -over and stay with her. It is very kind of Lady Jane." - -He pushed the letter towards Pam, who took it unsteadily, and held -it before her face as she read. - -"I'd rather not go," said Pam, putting down the letter. "I can't -go--I've no frocks." - -"I should like you to go, Pam," said her father, wistfully. "The -invitation is kindly meant, and Lady Jane moves in very good -society, and is influential. Why should my girls be buried here? As -for the frocks--I can spare ten pounds--I really can manage that. -How much can be done with ten pounds, Mary?" - -[Illustration: "Poor little girl!" said her father wistfully.] - -"A good deal. Oh! I hope Nancy Cullen is still at home! We'll go -round after breakfast and see." - -"Must I go?" said Pamela. - -"I think you ought to go, Pam," said her father; "and we will travel -together. I shall wait for you till you can be ready." - -In his heart Mr. Graydon thought that the invitation was a sort of -guarantee for his daughter's happiness. If Lady Jane had not known -or suspected that her son was in love with Pamela, and had not been -prepared to accept her, why should she have asked her on this visit? - -"I used to think her a proud and cold girl in the old days," he said -to himself; "but, of course, the girl of my dreams was so different! -After all, I daresay Gerald made no such mistake as I used to fear." - -"You will go then, Pam?" he said aloud. "The change will do you -good; and you will enjoy yourself." - -"Very well," said Pamela, listlessly; "I would rather be here, but -if you wish I will go." - - -END OF CHAPTER NINE. - - - - -[Illustration: Knowledge Of The Future.] - -Knowledge Of The Future. - -_A NEW YEAR ADDRESS._ - -By the Lord Bishop of Ripon. - - "Do not interpretations belong to God?"--GENESIS xl. 8. - - -The words were spoken by one of -those men who have moulded the history of the world. When he spoke -them he was a prisoner, forgotten in his misfortune and blameless -of offence. He was passing through a time of trial. Later he was -destined to emerge into a position of much power and usefulness. - -Joseph had shown from the first a character and qualities which -distinguished him from his brethren. They were men with little or -no thought beyond their daily work. In the open fields, watching -their flocks and enjoying, after their day's task, physical repose, -they found enough to satisfy them. He possessed a soul which went -out beyond such a level of life; he reached out to something higher. -Like the great French preacher, he could not leave his soul amid -mere earthly things. In his brethren's eyes he was a dreamer. They -were practical, and they had no sympathy with his dreams. He, -meanwhile, was full of a wistful wonder, longing to find out the -meaning of the strange visions which filled his soul. Life to him -must be something more than eating, drinking, and tending sheep. -No doubt a touch of egotism and personal ambition mingled with his -dreams; this belonged to his youth; this, in time, would pass away. -Life, with its stern and remorseless reality, would come to test -him and his visions, proving what manner of man he was. Meanwhile, -he was better with his dreams of the larger purpose and scope of -life than his brethren, who were content with somewhat material -gratification. - -Time showed that he was no mere dreamer. The day came when the -Prince of his people let him go free. The opportunity of large -and noble service came to him; and he showed force, readiness of -resource, sagacity, and practical vigour. His genius it was which -mitigated misfortune and averted disaster. He foresaw and provided -for the days of scarceness; he piloted Egypt through the bitter -seven years of famine. His dreams were not the idle dreams of -an empty mind; they were the visions of an energetic and finely -tempered spirit. His gifts stood the strain of practical duty. - -They had previously endured the harder test of adversity, neglect, -and inaction. There are powers which lose their bloom under the -pressure of prosaic duties; there are powers which wither under -the shadow of misfortune and obscurity. The trial which comes from -neglect is, perhaps, the severer, since it is hard for men to -believe in themselves when there is seemingly none else to believe -in them. But in the darkness of those neglected days the genius of -Joseph remained bright. His insight, his power of vision, was not -dimmed in the prison. He entered into the sorrows of other men; he -showed a sympathy with their difficulties; he strove to read for -them and with them the meaning of their lives. - -And the sustaining source of his powers breaks out into view in the -words of our text: "Do not interpretations belong to God?" - -We can realise the pathos of the question and the tried, yet -unbroken, faith which it reveals. Joseph is trying to read the -meaning of the dreams of his fellow-prisoners. Life, and the -experiences of life, he assures them, are not meaningless. He will -not forego his faith in the significance of life. We may not be -able to explain all; but there is, nevertheless, a meaning in all. -It is as though he said, "I too have known my visions--beautiful -visions of life's triumphs and life's joys. They faded with my -growing years; and instead of the achievements which I saw in my -dreams, there came false accusation, imprisonment, and neglect; but -though the golden light of those visions is gone, they were not -meaningless. I wait still for the unfolding of their significance. -Still I rely upon Him who will make all things plain--for do not -interpretations belong unto Him?" - -As we listen to the words, we feel how aptly they fit into our own -lives. - -We, like Joseph, have had our visions. We dreamed of the bright -things, the noble achievements, the splendid triumphs which life -would bring; but as life unfolded her stern sequences of reality, -the golden lines of our dreams vanished, the splendid tints of the -morning melted into the light of common day. - -Or perhaps our dreams have not gathered round ourselves, but round -others--Love, which sets her objects in such golden lights, that she -sees visions for them brighter than ambitions can dream for itself. - -It may be only the little child, whose prattle half-pleases, -half-worries you; but you are delighted to be so worried to win such -pleasure. The dear innocence of its winsome ways, its simpleness and -quaint airs of sagacity, are perpetual fascinations. In their lives -we live; and for them we see visions and dream dreams. - - "Thou wert a vision of delight - To bless us given; - Beauty embodied to our sight, - A glimpse of heaven." - -But the vision of delight fades. The promise which the vision gave -seems to be denied its fulfilment. - -It may be the young man, standing on the threshold of life, bearing -himself with quietness of manner, but full of a happy gentleness -and thoughtfulness towards others, and gifted with a sweet and rare -conscientiousness in little things. - -Or, again, it may be the man of maturer years, full of high and -chivalrous impulses, ready like a knight of old to gird on his -sword, and yearning to fill his life with worthy deeds, and yet -blending, with all noble martial ardour, tender and generous -thoughts for those who are dear, dearer than life, to his heart. - -At this season--teeming with tender and sorrowful memories--visions -such as these rush back upon our thoughts. The deep pathos and the -sad tragedy of life speak to us out of such memories; for what -golden dreams gathered round the heads of those who were so dear; -and what sorrow is ours, when with the revolutions of the sun, the -visions melt away; and all the hope, the promise, the expectation of -achievement are exchanged for sorrow and solitude of heart. Then we -too, like Joseph, find that our dreams can fade; we too encounter -the gloomy days which succeed the bright morning of our hopes. We -are imprisoned with sorrow; the iron enters into our soul; the bars -of stern adversity shut out the cheerful sunlight of other days. - -In such hours, when life, which seemed at one time so full of -glorious meanings, droops into darkness and seems to grow cold and -insignificant, our stay must be that of Joseph. Our trust must be -in the living God. The vision seems to have lost its meaning. Life -has become, to our sorrow-stricken hearts, flat, stale profitless, -and meaningless; but it is not so. There is One who can fulfil -our best dreams and give back to us their lost meanings. "Do not -interpretations belong to God?" - -Our trust must be in Him, and in none else. True, there is often to -be met with in life the easy chatterer who will take upon himself to -explain everything for us. All things are easy to the man who has -never faced mental anguish or heart-sorrow. He will not hesitate -to interpret our dreams for us, but his pretensions are vain. The -dream and the meaning of the dream are for us alone. Men may soothe -us in our grief. Their kindness and their attempted sympathy may be -welcome to us, as the faded bunch of flowers from a child's hot hand -may be sweet and acceptable; but to read the meaning of the vision, -and to explain it aright, to disclose its fulfilment, showing to us -that nothing is vain and no vision wholly meaningless--to do all -this belongs to God; for do not interpretations belong to Him? He -alone can sustain our trust in the trials of life. He alone can give -us back the visions which so soon vanished from our sight. - -The power to realise this constitutes the difference between the -secular and the spiritual disposition. In the view of one poet, man -is but a compound of dust and tears. Life is but sorrow mingled -with earthliness; but better and higher than Swinburne's thought is -Wordsworth's teaching. The older poet has the nobler view. He will -not let life sink down to a mere secular meaning; it is more than -grief and earth. There is that in us which transcends the earth and -can triumph over tears: - - "Oh! joy that in our embers - Is something that doth live." - -Into the world we came, but not as mere dust, to be mingled with -tears. There was a breath of the Almighty which breathed upon us: - - "With trailing clouds of glory did we come - From God, who is our home!" - -The divine spark is ours. It kindles a light and a fire. It calls -forth visions past all imagining. Our young men, by a Divine -Spirit's help, may see visions, and our old men dream dreams. And -these visions are not mere idle fancies, creations of our folly or -of our ambition. True, there are foolish visions and empty dreams; -but all visions are not foolish, nor are all dreams empty. Far -more empty is the soul that has no visions, to whom no bright and -noble outlook upon life's possibilities can ever come. This is what -Shakespeare recognises. Theseus is the man of action. He has dealt -with the hard prosaic work-a-day world. To him the visions of the -poet or dramatist are alike empty imaginings. The grandest and the -most foolish are alike only beautiful bubbles which will vanish -with all their rich colourings into empty air. The work of the poor -players, who labour in their foolish fashion to give him pleasure, -is no worse and no better than that of the most finished actors. To -him all ideas or visions are unpractical and unreal. He is a man of -action, loving deeds and despising dreams. - -There is a sort of virtue in this; but how secular it all is, -how low and insignificant life becomes, if no noble ideas and no -heavenly visions environ it! How vain its achievements, if there -be no promised land and no divine fire to give light in the night -season! And so Shakespeare lets us see that, while idle dreams are -vain enough, yet that for a man to be wholly without them, and to be -destitute of ideas and visions, is to be poor indeed. - -The true idea of life lifts us above the secular plane and places us -where the heavenly vision is possible, and where the Shekinah light -of God's presence is ever visible--though seen now as cloud, and now -as flame. - -But for the full meaning of all the visions and experiences of life, -we must wait. The vision is from God; the experience is from God; -from Him will come the explanation. "Do not interpretations belong -to God?" The vision was given us yesterday--we must wait for its -interpretation; the meaning comes to-morrow. - -It is in the spirit of this principle that our Lord spoke, "What -I do thou knowest not now; but thou shalt know hereafter." So -at another time He spoke: "It is not for you to know the times -and the seasons." There is a sweet interpreting "afterwards" of -life's bitter experience. "No chastening seemeth to be joyous, but -grievous: nevertheless afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruit -of righteousness unto them which are exercised thereby." Our faith -carries us forward to that interpreting hereafter, when once we -realise that interpretations belong to God. - -Herein we are not different from Christ our Master. He had the -vision of the world conquered, but the vision faded; and in its -place came Gethsemane and Calvary, the loneliness and the cross. And -yet afterwards came the interpretation. The vision, though it faded -for a time, did not die out unfulfilled. The kingdoms of the world -are becoming the kingdoms of the Lord and of His Christ. - -So it is the order of life that first should come the glory of -the vision; then the fading of its colours, the grey day and -the postponed realisation; and then afterwards the glorious -interpretation. Not _now_ is the interpretation. Now is the sadness, -now the sense of disappointment, now the temptation to think that -all brightness is gone, and all hope lost; but hereafter the love -which gave the vision and the love which took it away will make all -plain--no whit of the beauty and the beatitude which the vision -promised will be lost. The vision is for an appointed time. Till -then, rest in the Lord; wait patiently for Him. The gem hidden in -the earth will yet sparkle in heaven's light. The meaning of all -will be made plain, hereafter, in God's own light and in God's own -way; for interpretations belong to God. - -[Illustration: A VIEW OF RIPON CATHEDRAL. - -(_From the Drawing by Herbert Railton._)] - - - - -[Illustration: CIRCUMVENTED.] - -CIRCUMVENTED. - -A Complete Story. By the Author of "Lady Jane's Companion." - - -"[Illustration: drop cap] I tell you he does not _dream_ of Dolly. -How can you imagine anything so absurd?" - -That was how the family tyrant addressed her mother, and poor Mrs. -Rhodes was, as ever, annihilated. It was a vain thing to try and -brave Georgiana. There she stood in the window, majestic, the eldest -daughter, her straight hair stiffly ridged with hot irons, her face -pale, and her lips determined, altogether handsome, but very hard. -Behind her one had a glimpse of a forlorn little figure wandering in -the grass. The sight of that lonely figure, and a dim idea of its -unhappiness, made the poor lady pluck up spirit to murmur still-- - -"I--I--I thought that Freddy----" - -"Impossible!" said Georgiana; her voice vibrated with a little more -than disdain. "Why, what could he see in a stupid little goose like -that? It would be cheaper to buy a sixpenny doll and set it up in -his house; then at least he could always change it. But if he wants -a wife----" - - * * * * * - -In the garden Dolly was walking rather sadly among the trees, and -her white skirts brushed against the grass like a sigh. She was -a little slip of a thing with Irish eyes, great and grey, always -brimming with either a laugh or tears; and she had the dearest -eager face in the world. It was a troubled face now, for she could -not understand why life had been made bitter to her just lately. -Perhaps it was because of some unwitting sin, perhaps because the -family tyrant felt, like her, the approaching parting with their old -playfellow. Georgiana had a peculiar way of showing when she was -vexed. - -The Rev. Frederick Cockburn had not always been six feet high and -a parson. And for the greater part of their lives they had only -been parted by a garden wall. Even when he was at college he was -continually running down, and they had never made a plan without -him; he belonged to the girls like a brother. Later he had had to -admonish them as a curate, but he had been their old comrade still. -Of course, he was lucky to get a living offered to him so young, and -it was only right that he should accept it, but still it was a blow. - -Freddy had run in so often to talk it over (the girls knew all about -his house and his parish, down to the woman who played the harmonium -and dragged the chants) that they had forgotten it was so far away. -Now they had suddenly to remember. - -Dolly was under the weeping ash, where she and Freddy had hidden -when they were little. Georgiana had had the biggest bite of the -apple, and then she had deserted and said, "I'll tell!" How she -would miss him! Always he had been her champion, defending her when -Georgiana was angry and pulled her hair. And although these days -were past she wanted him more than ever. It had hurt her lately that -he should have been monopolised by Georgiana and that she had been -thrust back and made a third. He was a young housekeeper, and the -eldest daughter could talk of carpets and curtains and butcher's -bills. To Dolly life was a weary nightmare of Freddy serious in a -chair, and Georgiana giving him good advice. Vainly she tried to -keep her lip steady, leaning her head in among the leaves. - -Half a mile away a black object was sitting on a fence whistling -impatiently, inwardly furious with Georgiana. - -"If she would only come out of the gate!" he said, hitting wildly at -all the buttercups in his reach. "If she'd only give me a chance. -But she's just pinned to Dolly, and I never can get a minute." - -His whistle grew more lugubrious. - -"And I'm off to-morrow!" - -Never in the ancient days, when he used to stand in front of his -younger playmate and defy Georgiana, had he felt her to be such a -tyrant. He longed to stand up to her and shake his fist at her as -of old. An instant he stood on the highest rail of the fence to -reconnoitre beyond the trees, and then sat down again in despair. - -"I know she thinks I'm not good enough for Dolly," he said; "we -always were enemies, but she might let me ask her. It's Dolly's -business." - -Then he jumped down in a hurry that would have been undignified in -any vicar less young and eager. Among the trees he had caught sight -of the unaccompanied white flutter of Dolly's dress. - -At the familiar whistle she started, reddening and glancing -fearfully towards the house. - -The tyrant's ears were sharp, but for once it appeared that she had -not heard it, and Dolly rushed down the tree-hidden path to the -gate. Her head was just under the green branches and they caught at -her hair as she hurried, the prettiest picture in all the garden, -with a quaint little forward stagger. - -"Oh, Freddy!" she said. - -He was leaning over the gate, which was fastened with a complicated -arrangement of twisted string, meant to hold it together and keep it -shut. There was something earnest and business-like in his manner; -he hardly smiled at her greeting, and it hurt her. His face was so -desperately solemn. - -"Do you want Georgiana?" she said, bravely, "to--to talk -about--furniture?" - -He looked at her reproachfully across the gate. - -"Dolly," he said, "how can you be so unkind? I've been haunting the -place for hours, watching to catch you alone. I've no chance if I go -to the house, and--and I can't _stand_ housekeeping and chairs and -tables----" - -At the emphatic climax they had to laugh. He was struggling -mechanically with the string, and Dolly was making believe to help -him. - -"You used always to jump it," she said. Their hands touched as they -fumbled at it, and she felt a new and disturbing thrill. "Hadn't you -better do that, if you have not become too grand?" - -"Don't," said Freddy. Ah, their fingers had been too near; he caught -hers and held them tight. "They are all chaffing me about being a -Vicar and having a house and all that. Asking if I've got anybody to -put into it. But what's the good if you can't get the girl you want?" - -"Oh!" said Dolly, looking startled and shrinking as far as the -imprisoned hand would allow. He held it fast. - -"Dolly," he said, "we've always been chums, you and I. Let me tell -you, and then you must tell me honestly if you think--if I've got -any chance----" - -He was interrupted. - -"Is that you, Freddy? What a blessing! I wanted to tell you what -you must do about the study." - -It was with a kind of terror that he saw Georgiana charging down -upon them remorselessly through the trees. Dolly had wrung her hand -away and vanished with a little sound like a gasp, and he, on the -wrong side of the gate, was almost speechless with wrath and temper. - -"If a man can't furnish his own study as he likes----" he stammered -darkly, turning on his heel. Georgiana was like a fate. - -"What was Freddy saying?" - -A rather sad little face was visible among the leaves of the weeping -ash. - -[Illustration: He saw Georgiana charging down upon them.] - -"I--I don't know, Georgiana. He was just beginning--I think he has -fallen in love again." - -The elder girl glanced at her young sister with a gleam of -suspicion, but Dolly had spoken in all good faith. And, indeed, in -the dim past Freddy had once or twice been smitten and had confided -his troubles to the kind ears of Dolly. They had been slight affairs -and, although unhappy, always less tragic than laughable. - -"He did not say who it was?" - -"No," answered Dolly, "because you interrupted. I--I--I'm trying to -guess." - -Georgiana turned her back on the wistful grey Irish eyes. - -"Can't you?" she said, and walked away, utterly hard-hearted. - - * * * * * - -That evening there was a formidable leave-taking. To Freddy Cockburn -it was a nightmare. - -As he sat in the drawing-room being talked to by Georgiana and Mrs. -Rhodes (Dolly was very silent) he grew desperate. The last precious -minutes were ticking loudly, now and then marked by a warning whirr, -as the grandfather's clock reproached him. - -He listened to them, but all the while he was wandering backwards -hand in hand with Dolly--Dolly who now sat so distantly in the -window. - -With a start his mind came back impatiently to the present. - -"Good-bye, my dear boy. We shall hear how you get on. Your mother -will write and tell us----" - -"You must let me know how you manage about the stairs," said -Georgiana. - -They accompanied him to the door, lingering affectionately to watch -him go, and behind them the great brown clock was ticking the last, -last minutes reproachfully. He shook hands and waited, desperately -bold. - -"Will you come to the gate with me, Dolly?" - -There was a slight pause at that abrupt invitation. He saw Dolly -involuntarily start forward and then hesitate, with a faint red -wonderment in her cheek. He waited, gazing back eagerly at his fate -in the balance. - -"Yes, Dolly--come along!" said Georgiana. - - -II. - -The Vicar of Little Easter was in his study. He had not been writing -sermons, but pens were lying about the table, and there were other -signs of an intellectual struggle. - -[Illustration: The old lady looked up keenly.--_p. 222._] - -"I can't do it," he said at last, crumpling up many fragments of -blotted paper, each the unlucky beginning of a letter. Then he -thrust his hands through his hair, giving it a despairing rumple. - -"It's no good," he said. "I can't put it in a letter, and it does -look a cowardly way of--asking. Like chalking up a thing and running -round the corner. If I were a girl and a fellow wrote to me instead -of coming and standing to his guns, I should call it--cheek." - -"Dear Dolly----" - -He tore the last attempt furiously across. - -"She would think it was a joke and show it all round the family for -them to laugh at it too," he lamented; "if Georgiana did not kidnap -it first. I don't think she would stick at that, and I'm afraid she -regularly hates me. Queer!" - -He stared forlornly at the heap of papers, and then all at once an -idea struck him and he jumped up. - -"Hurrah!" - -With sudden energy he flung out of his study and crossed the hall. -His mother was sitting in her room--the only place that was quite in -order--stitching rings on curtains. She was going to stay and put -him to rights before returning home and leaving him in his glory. - -"What is the matter, Freddy?" she said. - -"I was thinking," said the Vicar soberly, "that you've a lot to do. -Couldn't you ask one of the girls over while you are here to help?" - -"If you think the place is ready for visitors," said Mrs. Cockburn, -smiling. The girls were, of course, Freddy's old companions. - -"Well, you might ask Dolly; I'm sure she wouldn't mind." - -The old lady looked up keenly, but his manner was very careless. - -"Why not Georgiana?" she inquired. "Eldest first." - -"I don't think she could be spared just now," said the Vicar, hiding -his alarm, "and--and I'd like the place to be tidy before she came." - -So Mrs. Cockburn wrote and invited Dolly. - -The answer came very quickly: Dolly could not leave home just now. - -While his mother was reading out the many sufficient reasons, Freddy -stared hopelessly across at the fatal letter. His face expressed -utter dejection until about halfway through. At the last clause it -lighted up with an inspiration. He leaned over the table. - -"Then, mother, of course, you'll ask Georgiana?" - -His mother glanced at him oddly. - -"Do you want her?" - -"Want her?" cried the Vicar. "Rather!" - -There was no mistaking the eagerness in his voice. It betrayed -itself in the very stammer with which he proceeded. - -"I didn't know she would come, but if Dolly's to manage the school -treat this year, and if Dolly's to take the club, they won't want -Georgiana. Tell her we can't possibly get the house put to rights -without her. Say whatever you think will bring her. Only make her -come." - -He got up and fetched his writing things from the study. Mrs. -Cockburn had to write the invitation then and there, almost to his -dictation. - -"Tell her she _must_ come!" he cried impetuously, rushing away to -look for a stamp, and then riding in with the letter himself to -catch the early post. Mrs. Cockburn looked after him amused, but -just a little bit disappointed. - -"It's Georgiana then, after all," she said. - - * * * * * - -Three days later Georgiana was installed at Little Easter. - -She arrived with rather too many clothes for a person who was to -help in getting a house in order, but that did not prevent her from -buckling to. Mrs. Cockburn, a kind old lady with a twinkle of humour -to comfort her in her trials, was taken aback by her visitor's -authoritative grasp at the reins; but Freddy, having suffered more -nearly from her tyrannical ways, thought he had never known her so -gracious. In fact, he repented himself of the hard things he had -been thinking--of all but a certain determination. - -"I don't believe she hates me really," he thought. "It was only that -she didn't want me to marry Dolly." - -He made that reflection whilst shaving with care the morning after -her arrival. On coming down to breakfast he found her at her post. -She had already whisked away half the litter that was hampering the -breakfast-room, and was making the tea. As he came in she nodded. - -"Good morning, Freddy. Your mother is breakfasting in her room. -What a wilderness your house is at present! The first thing after -breakfast will be to have a man in and put down the carpets." - -"But they _are_ down," stammered the Vicar, who had laboured hard -all the past week. - -"All crooked," said Georgiana. - -She poured out his tea and sat down opposite, with an air of calm -superiority and possession (which the Vicar was too agitated to -remark). Having long since made up her mind as to what she wanted, -she was not unduly elated at the present turn of affairs. Freddy was -always fickle, and it had taken very little pains to keep him apart -from Dolly while that fancy lasted. It was not her part to consider -Dolly--Dolly, years younger, and pretty, and always liked. - -Something like exultation glittered in Georgiana's eyes. She had a -glimpse of Dolly at home and smiled; her triumph was pitiless. - -"Oh, by-the-bye," she said. "Your idea of furnishing the -drawing-room is too ridiculous. It ought to be smart and shiny--a -company room. You don't want old pictures and comfortable chairs!" - -"Don't I?" said the Vicar with a half-smile, thinking whose whims he -had tried to suit in the furnishing. - -"No," said Georgiana. Her tone was lordly. "I'll tell you what I -will do. You shall drive me into the town, and I will help you to -choose what you really want." - -"Do----," began the Vicar, and then stopped hastily, reddening. She -looked at him witheringly, unaware that the word suppressed had been -simply "Dolly." - -"In the meantime----" she vouchsafed after a crushing pause. He -looked up suddenly from his letters. - -"I'm afraid you'll be dull, Georgiana," he said, rising. "It's -awfully good of you to come, and perhaps you can find some -amusement. You can do what you like, you know--so long as you don't -touch my study, or trick it up like a heathen place in Japan. The -fact is, I find I must leave you and mother for a day or two. Is -that the dogcart? My train is at half-past ten." - -Georgiana looked out of the window. There was the dogcart, and a -beast of a brown horse pawing and snorting, to take him away to the -country station. She turned round angrily, like a person who had -been cheated. - -"Why?" she asked. - -[Illustration: "Dolly!" he cried in a voice of triumph.--_p. 224._] - -Freddy had left the breakfast table, and was stacking his letters -behind the clock. He answered her with a kind of chuckle-- - -"Important business." - -Three minutes later, he was running down the stairs, got up for a -journey. Mrs. Cockburn was just saying good-morning to the rather -blank-looking visitor, and he kissed her hurriedly. - -"I must go off at once," he said. "Georgiana will explain. And I -say, mother"--in a tone of anxious hospitality--"don't let her go -home, or anything, till I come back. I must catch the early train." - - -III. - -Dolly was all alone. - -There was no dragon guarding her, and she might wander unwatched -about the garden, unvexed by the family tyrant's whim. However, she -sat forlornly under the willow tree. - -She was disappointed at not being allowed to go and visit Mrs. -Cockburn, but, queerly enough, it had hurt her more to find her -refusal met by that urgent invitation to Georgiana. It was a much -warmer letter. Mrs. Cockburn had been told in inviting Georgiana to -say whatever would bring her, and she had according written--"Freddy -says she _must_ come," twice. - -They were ringing in Dolly's ears, these impetuously written words; -but she had not any right to be angry--and hardly any right to be -sad. Only, if that message had been in _her_ letters, she would have -defied them all. - -The sun burnt down over all the garden, except under the sad green -shade of the willow tree. Afterwards, it sank lower and lower behind -the beeches until it was almost dusk. It was then that Dolly heard a -familiar whistle. - -She started up from the grass, and her wistful face was scarlet. It -must be imagination. - -Almost before she knew it she was hurrying up the path. - -"Oh!" she gasped, finding herself at the gate, and ready to turn and -fly as the strange whistler came in sight. Her heart beat too fast -for her to hear any step. As if it could be him! - -"Dolly!" he cried, in a voice of triumph. - -"How did you get here?" she panted. - -He vaulted the gate this time, and was immediately by her side. - -"By train," he said coolly. "As soon as I'd got Georgiana safe I -bolted." - -Dolly paled slightly. Had he come to make an announcement? - -"Will you come in to mother?" she said faintly; but Freddy barred -the way. - -"No," he said. "I won't." - -She was almost frightened. He was so white and eager, and so -emphatic. - -"Dolly," he said, "I've got my chance at last. Georgiana thinks I'm -not half good enough for you, and I'm sure it's true, but I don't -care, she'd no right to fight as she did for her lofty plans. It's -your business. And Dolly--Dolly--I love you so!" - - * * * * * - -"I like the house," said Georgiana. - -She spoke in a slightly patronising tone, and poor Mrs. Cockburn -sighed. - -"It is rather big," she said. "But if Freddy should marry and settle -down----" - -"It will not be too big," declared Georgiana. "I have been drawing -up my ideas about the rooms. And I have toiled all the morning -in the study." Mrs. Cockburn looked alarmed. Even in a possible -daughter-in-law this was rather drastic. - -"He will not like you to touch his study." - -"I know. He charged me to let it alone," said Georgiana calmly; -"but it is no good giving in to a man's absurd notions, and he had -crammed it with such extraordinary things. I have made it look like -another place." - -Again Freddy's mother sighed. It was the familiar tone of the family -tyrant. She sighed for Freddy. - -The sigh was interrupted by his return. Unexpectedly as he had -disappeared yesterday, he came back. They heard him cross the hall -with a long, quick, eager step, and then he burst in upon them, a -boy again. - -"Well, where have you been?" asked his mother, smiling. He was so -tired and dusty, and so excited. - -The Vicar looked at her like a school-boy, half-proud, half-shy. - -"I've been to the old place," he said, "to ask Dolly if she would -have me. And she says 'Yes.'" - - R. RAMSAY. - - - - -THE END OF THE SONG - -BY F. E. WEATHERLY. - -[Illustration: poem (_By permission of the Berlin Photographic Co._)] - - - I read to you one golden morn among the leaves of June, - The flowers were sweet around our feet, the river sang its tune, - I know not what the story was that stole upon your ears, - I only saw your listening eyes were full of tender tears. - - I sang to you when twilight fell, and all the world had flown, - A song that rose from out my heart and was for you alone, - I cannot tell what words I sang,--of gladness or of pain, - I only knew I felt your heart give back the sweet refrain. - - And when the night in silence rose, and all the song was o'er, - The world was full of happiness I ne'er had known before, - I know not what I told you then or what you said to me, - I only knew your heart was mine for all the years to be. - - - - -SOME REMARKABLE SERVICES - -_IN VARIOUS PARTS OF THE COUNTRY._ - -[Illustration: (_Photo: K. J. Harrison and Co., Kewaigue, Isle of -Man._) - -SUNDAY AT KIRK BRADDAN.] - - -Up and down the country there are several religious services held -which are remarkable, not so much on account of the character of -the service as in consequence of the strange places in which they -take place. Of course, there are strange services--a few of which -are detailed later--but, nevertheless, the majority obtain their -notoriety by reason of their unusual place of assembly. - -For instance, who has not heard of the famous open-air service at -Kirk Braddan churchyard in the Isle of Man?--a service which on an -August Bank Holiday Sunday has attracted a congregation of twelve -thousand people. Indeed, so great has been the crush on occasions -that it has been impossible for the collection plate to reach -all those gathered within sound of the preacher's voice--a truly -lamentable fact from the churchwardens' point of view. - -If the weather is fine, these open-air services begin, as a rule, -on Whit Sunday and continue to the end of September, or, virtually -during the whole of the holiday season. They were instituted in a -somewhat remarkable way by a former vicar, "Parson Drury," as he was -familiarly called, when it was decided to build Kirk Braddan New -Church in consequence of the old church falling out of repair and -being altogether inadequate as far as size was concerned for the -worshippers who attended. Accordingly, while the new church was in -process of erection, Mr. Drury conceived the happy idea of using the -spacious churchyard, and so popular was the innovation that it has -been kept up in the summer ever since. - -Now the services are conducted by the present vicar--the Rev. Canon -Moore--and, fittingly enough, his pulpit is the immense limestone -slab erected to the memory of the founder of the churchyard -services, "Parson Drury." It was felt, when the good man died, that -no better memorial could be raised than a stone which might be -utilised as a pulpit in the "Nature's church" where he had delivered -so many powerful sermons. - -The hymn-papers are distributed as the people pour into the -churchyard on Sunday morning. The hymns are most heartily sung by -the congregation. They are well known, and the tunes are also such -as all can join in, and the effect of eight or ten thousand voices -singing the simple strains is wonderful. - -[Illustration: A VIEW IN ST. JOHN'S, STREATHAM. - -(_Showing the eggs presented for the Egg Service._)] - -During the summer the aggregate number of worshippers amounts to -sixty or seventy thousand, from all parts of the United Kingdom, -but principally Lancashire and Yorkshire. Many people join in the -service which is going on at the same time in Braddan new church -close at hand, but the great majority prefer the open air under the -shadow of the old trees and the venerable church. - -It is rather remarkable that the Isle of Man should also possess -what is believed by many to be the largest open-air service in the -world. There are some folk who think that the Sunday service in Hyde -Park answers to this description, though it is certain, in point of -size, there is not a great deal of difference between that and the -one held on Douglas Head. - -There is, in reality, apart from the size, nothing very special to -say about this service on Douglas Head. It is an ordinary service -of an exceedingly simple character. Every attempt, however, is made -to get a first-rate preacher, and two or three bishops have taken -the service. Archdeacon Sinclair, who is a frequent visitor to -Manxland, has officiated on several occasions. As at Kirk Braddan, -the congregational singing is the great feature of the service. The -Bishop of Sodor and Man is naturally the most popular of all the -prelates who figure prominently at these services. - -After these monster services, it is a delightful change to come -to the "Egg Service," which was instituted in 1894 by the Rev. S. -Alfred Johnston of St. John's, Streatham. It was thought that one -of the most beautiful ways of observing Hospital Sunday would be -to send a consignment of eggs to some of the patients in the great -London hospitals, and accordingly the congregation were requested to -make their offerings of eggs on the day when the various churches -unite in rendering financial aid to the institutions in question. - -The "Egg Service," like most other things, had a small beginning, -for only 220 eggs were contributed the first year. In 1895 the -number of eggs rose to 446, while the year following no less than -1,618 eggs were given. It was felt, however, that in Jubilee year a -special effort ought to be made in view of the general assistance -then being afforded to the hospitals by the scheme of the Prince of -Wales, and so a "Jubilee" offering was arranged. - -The service succeeded beyond all anticipations. Over five thousand -eggs were to be seen in St. John's Church on Hospital Sunday, and -the arrival of the various members of the congregation, carrying -baskets of new-laid eggs, excited a great deal of local interest. -By some means Her Royal Highness the Duchess of York heard of the -service that year, and sent a sovereign to be spent on eggs. For -this sum two hundred were obtained, the difficulties of transit -alone preventing the Duchess from personally sending the eggs. It is -only right to add that the giving of the delicacies referred to in -no way interferes with the financial offertory at the service, which -is forwarded to the Hospital Sunday Fund. - -[Illustration: (_Photo: J. Chenhalls, Redruth._) - -A REMARKABLE SERVICE IN THE GWENNAP PIT.] - -There is some prospect of these "Egg Services" becoming an -institution in other parts. This year the Essex town of Maldon has -followed the good example set at Streatham. Carey Church, Reading, -also made an initial effort of the same kind this year. - -[Illustration: (_Photo: Taunt and Co., Oxford._) - -THE TOWER SERVICE AT OXFORD.] - -These "Egg Services," inasmuch as they help the needy, call to mind -the "Doll Service" that is held at St. Mary-at-Hill, Eastcheap, -the church of the Rev. W. Carlile, the founder of the Church Army. -On the Sunday before Christmas the congregation are requested to -bring dolls, which are laid on a table near the altar. The gentlemen -as well as the ladies are expected to provide a doll in some way -or other, and consequently a goodly number of these ever-popular -playthings are dispensed on Christmas Eve to the poorest of children -in the East End of London. Mr. Carlile's service is now a fixed -institution. - -The followers of John Wesley are numerically very strong in -Cornwall, and it is not surprising therefore that the strangest -service held by that denomination takes place in that part of the -country. A service in an old quarry is a decided novelty, and -the fame of the "Gwennap Pit" service is justly popular with its -lusty-voiced congregation of Cornishmen. Every Whit Monday the -gathering takes place, so the Methodists within a radius of twenty -miles are able to make it a day of pleasure as well as profit. The -pit is situated not far from the quaint little town of Redruth. - -The quarry forms a natural amphitheatre. Circular in form, and -possessing row after row of steps, it is able to seat a good -congregation, most of the members of which arrive by brakes. In the -centre a sort of rostrum is erected for the various speakers, for -addresses (and not a sermon) are the order of the day. - -In days gone by John Wesley preached in this disused quarry to -crowded congregations. Cornish folk always welcomed heartily the -founder of Methodism, and they hold this monster service in memory -of the time when Wesley frequently used the pit, first of all -because it was the only place big enough, and secondly on account of -the fact that it was the only one he was allowed to use. As a rule, -great preachers are not invited, as the congregation prefer to hear -the leading "local preachers." It is the boast of many a man that he -first attended with his grandfather, who had already spent a good -many Whit Mondays at Gwennap Pit. - -The Oxford "May Morning" service is well known throughout the -country, chiefly because it is the oldest of such gatherings, -and--what is more--by far the best attended. It is held, as -everybody knows, upon St. Mary Magdalen's tower at five o'clock -in the morning, and is attended by the President and Fellows of -the college as well as the members of the choir. A few strangers, -however, are admitted, and, all told, the number of people on -the tower amounts to about two hundred. The crowd in the street -below, however, runs into thousands, instead of hundreds, as the -illustration of the people on the bridge which crosses the River -Cherwell fully bears out. - -[Illustration: (_Photo: Taunt and Co., Oxford._) - -WATCHING THE SERVICE ON ST. MARY MAGDALEN'S TOWER, OXFORD. - -(_A crowd which gathered at four o'clock a.m._)] - -No matter what event takes place, the service is held on May Day. -The crowd begins to assemble soon after four o'clock in the morning, -when the bells begin to ring, warning the citizens that the time -of service is approaching. At half-past four the choir begins to -assemble, and one by one the members begin to make their way to the -top of the tower, which very soon presents an animated appearance on -account of the limited space to be obtained. When at last the hour -of five arrives, and the clocks of the city begin to denote the time -of day, the choir bursts forth into song ere the clocks have ceased -striking. - -The holding of the service confers upon the college the right of -presentation to the living of Slimbridge in Gloucestershire, upon -the income of which there is said to be an annual charge of ten -pounds for the music on the top of the college tower. Similar -services were at one time held at St. Paul's Cathedral, and at -Abingdon, but after a time the custom died out. There is, however, -no likelihood of that happening at Oxford, the service now having -too great a hold upon the favour of the public. - -Every July a most remarkable service is held at Folkestone. Like -the majority of seaside resorts, Folkestone owns a big fishing -industry, and it was felt that a service of thanksgiving for the -harvest of the sea was just as desirable as the ordinary harvest -festival. So every year the clergy and choir of the parish church -march through the streets, singing hymns, and when the harbour is -reached the fisher-folk join in the service of praise to God for the -blessings vouchsafed in the past, and pray to be kept safe from harm -in following their dangerous avocation, and also for "heavy catches" -in the year to come. - -Kirk Braddan churchyard service is not the only one of its kind in -the country, though it is the biggest. For years a similar service -has been held in the spacious churchyard of St. Tudno, situated on -the Great Orme's Head at Llandudno. - -[Illustration: AN OPEN-AIR SERVICE ON THE GREAT ORME'S HEAD, -LLANDUDNO. - -(_Photo: Photochrome Co., Cheapside._)] - -The services are held both in the morning and evening, and although -the Llandudno churches have special preachers during the season, -none of them is so well attended as St. Tudno's. The service is -simple and hearty, the singing is good--for Welsh people can -sing--and the voices of the visitors blend harmoniously with the -rich native element. All the tunes are well known, and the same can -also be said of the hymns, which are printed on hymn-sheets to avoid -the necessity of bringing books. - -The congregation is a varied one. Men are there dressed in cycling -costume, while caps and straw hats, with other holiday attire, are -adopted by the great majority. The ladies are allowed to put up -their sunshades, if they wish, and everybody is permitted to do -as he or she desires. The graves form the seats. Some of the more -adventurous perch themselves on the headstones, while others lay -full length on the grass mounds, many of which are unadorned with -names of any kind. The rector, the Rev. J. Morgan, has a loyal -band of workers, who distribute the hymn-sheets, and also hand out -cushions to the many ladies present. The congregation, which often -numbers a couple of thousand, forms the choir. - -One of the most pleasing parts of the service is the taking up of -the offertory. This is chiefly done by boys, many of them being the -children of visitors, and the youngsters are only too delighted to -take part in this novel duty. - -When the congregation disperses comes the prettiest scene of all, -as the people wend their way down the hill--a long, unbroken line, -which seems to reach as far as the eye can distinguish. - -[Illustration: (_Photo: Cassell and Co., Ltd._) - -THE RAILWAY MEN'S BREAKFAST SERVICE AT DERBY.] - -How many people are there, aware of the fact that the railway town -of Derby has a series of services at the breakfast hour for the men -engaged in the engineering works? These are attended by two thousand -men every morning, and owe their origin entirely to the idea of one -man of very humble circumstances in life. Yet this quiet, unassuming -man initiated one of the grandest services in the country, held not -occasionally but upon every working day in the year. - -Thirty years ago very few men were employed at the works of the -Midland Railway, compared with the number who work there to-day. -Many of the men, whose homes were too far distant to admit of their -returning for breakfast, were obliged to bring this meal with them. -George Wilkins, the founder of these mess-room services, was in -charge of an engine-room, and in the winter, as it was a nice warm -spot, some of the men asked Wilkins if they might have their meal by -his fire. The engineer gladly consented, and, being a Christian man, -he took the opportunity of reading the Bible to them. - -This fact got noised abroad, and other men joined in. The reading -was first of all supplemented by prayer and then by singing. -The fame of the little service continued to grow, until at last -Wilkins's engine-room was not nearly big enough, and the place of -service had to be moved to an open shed outside. For some time this -shed answered the purpose; but as the railway works grew, and more -men were employed, the attendance at the service increased, until at -last it was absolutely necessary to erect rooms especially for the -service. - -[Illustration: A RIVER BAPTISM AT BOTTISHAM. - -(_Photo: H. R. de Salis, Uxbridge._)] - -First of all, grace is sung, and then the men set to work to eat -their breakfast. Plates rattle and knives and forks jingle as the -speaker for the day reads the Bible and gives a forcible address. -But every word is heard, for the men are very attentive while eating -their food. This is not surprising, for the services are taken by -well-known laymen and clerics, and if a notable preacher is in the -neighbourhood or about to pass through Derby, he is requested to -break his journey and say a few words to the railway men at their -breakfast. Many gladly do this if their engagements permit. - -George Wilkins, the founder of these services, is dead, but a -visit to Derby cemetery reveals the fact that his work has not -been forgotten by those who now enjoy the fruits of his labour. -Over his grave a fitting memorial has been placed, and upon it is -inscribed the following: "In loving memory of George Wilkins, who -died November 19th, 1872, aged fifty-three years. He was a faithful -servant of the Midland Railway Company, and under God's guidance -the beginner of a work for Christ which lives on still, though he -is gone. Out of love for his character and gratitude for his work, -his friends and fellow-workmen have erected this stone. His constant -song was 'God is Love.'" - -One does not hear very much nowadays of the open-air baptismal -services which fifty years ago were so popular with the Baptist -churches in the country districts. In Cambridgeshire, however, they -still take place in many of the villages, and our illustration shows -the service at Bottisham Sluice, which is situated near Waterbeach, -the scene of the late Mr. Spurgeon's earliest labours. The minister -stands in the river, and the candidate for church membership wades -in to him and is immersed in the waters. A house near by is utilised -for dressing purposes. - - GEORGE WINSOR. - - - - -[Illustration: Coals of Fire] - -Coals of Fire - -A Complete Story. By J. F. Rowbotham, Author of "Solomon Built Him -an House," Etc. - - -It was twenty years since I left Hambleton as the curate, and on the -identical day I returned as vicar. I sat meditating in the little -village inn, while a gig was being harnessed to draw me to the -vicarage. I wondered how the place would look. I wondered whom I -should see and recognise. Twenty years produce innumerable changes. -Those whom I had known as boys would have grown to men, and men and -women would have become silver-haired and wrinkled, and perhaps past -the power of recognition, until a familiar voice in dubious accents -should say, "I am such a one. Do you not know me?" To such a query -I felt I should have to reply, "I knew you twenty years ago, and if -you assure me you are the very same person, I know you now. But the -identification must come from yourself." - -"The gig's ready, sir," cried the man at the hotel parlour door, -and in obedience to this admonition I shut up my tablets and took -my seat in the vehicle. Off went the horse. I whizzed past all the -familiar places _en route_, and at last was landed safe and sound -at the vicarage, but somewhat dazed and bewildered by the sudden -panorama of a vanished past presented to me during the ride. - -My experiences of the next few days proved to be exactly as I -predicted. I saw innumerable people who turned out to be old -acquaintances, though it was on the strength of their telling that -I found them to be so. I should never have known them again in a -crowd, nor would they, I imagine, despite their assertions, have -known me. I saw old Haynes once again, Smart the gardener, England -the bell-ringer who was so fond of frequenting "The Rose," Higgs, -Nutcher, and many more. - -Localities had not altered so much as people. I noticed that the old -apple-tree in the vicarage garden bent down with the identical curve -in its trunk, and seemed to have the exact number of apples upon it -which it had when I left it. The vicarage had much altered, though, -and so had its surroundings--several new cottages being built which -quite shut out the pretty prospect from the study window which once -was. - -I found the circumstances of many of the inhabitants, like the -"extension" of the vicarage, to have altered likewise. I found -several people poor and reduced in circumstances whom I left fairly -well-to-do. I met some people now in comparative opulence whom I -remembered so poor that they were glad of doles from the curate. -All this is a striking instance of a very great truth in English -life, which is that circumstances, as generations pass, are on a -sliding scale. If you look for the descendants of the nobility of -some centuries ago, you will find them in the humblest cottagers -of to-day. And if you search for the descendants of the former -cottagers of our land, you will find them in its present nobility. -Life fluctuates so in great cycles of time; and in the little cycle -during which I had been absent from Hambleton, thus had existence -fluctuated and changed. - -Two visits in particular I intended to pay, namely, to the squire, -and to Farmer Brownlow; and before many days elapsed I contrived to -pay them. I saw the squire and the farmer, and I must confess I was -very much struck by the change that had come over them both, but -particularly Mr. Brownlow, whom I remember tall, erect, and jovial. -I concluded there must have been more dissensions in his family -since I last knew them, and that trouble was impending. I made such -domestic inquiries as I could without receiving much satisfaction; -but I took care to observe the greatest reticence about his son -Arthur. - -I must mention, in explanation of my last sentence, that when I was -curate here Arthur Brownlow was a boy of about twelve or fourteen, -and one of the brightest and most ingenuous lads it has ever been my -lot to know. He was also blessed with a beautiful voice, and sang -in the choir of the church all the solos in the anthems. Shall I -ever forget the melodious tones that floated from that boy's lips? -Neither I nor any who heard him can cease to remember them. - -The popularity which the boy gained, the favour which he received -from everybody and anybody, was so marked and so universal that it -ultimately excited the envy and hostility of his elder brothers, who -were young men of twenty and over, and who were, moreover, prompted -to their animosity by the suspicion that their father intended to -bequeath the farm (which was his freehold) and all his money to his -favourite son, and leave them unprovided for. - -Arthur's mother was Mr. Brownlow's second wife, who had been very -dear to him, but had only lived about three years, and then had -passed away, leaving as a legacy to her husband the little baby boy -scarce two years old. The child became the farmer's idol, and was -more and more worshipped as he grew to boyhood. - -The elder sons being in the main clownish, stupid fellows, it was a -common speech, half in joke, half in earnest, with the farmer:-- - -"You lads are strong of build and dull of wit. Why don't you exert -your strength in other spheres than this, and leave the farm to -little Arthur when he grows up? You, Hugh, might, for instance, -go to America. William, you might take a piece of land of your -own--you are old enough to manage it and strong enough to work it. -You, Robert, should apply for the post of farm bailiff with Mr. -Weatherstone or somewhere else; and you, Thomas, should go in for -sheep farming in the colonies. There is your life mapped out for you -all. It will be many years before I am laid on the shelf; and you -are all getting too old to be anything but drags on me; while by the -time I am about settling down in my chimney corner, to take my ease -henceforth, Arthur will be just of an age to take the farm off my -hands and commence the management of it. This will, moreover, keep -the land in one piece, instead of chopping it up into five." - -These words, I say, were often used by Mr. Brownlow in jest to his -sons, who were a lazy lot, and who ought, moreover, to have been on -their own hands by now. He possibly meant little more than jest, for -he was not the sort of man to cut any of his family adrift at that -time; but his sons chose to take the remarks in thorough earnest, -and they one and all wreaked their bitterest spite on poor Arthur in -consequence, till his life became almost intolerable to him. - -He would often come to me in those days, and say: - -"Mr. Calthorpe, I don't think I can stand it any longer, sir--at -least, without telling father; and then, if I do that, I don't know -what might be the consequences. He would certainly be so angry that -he would send all my brothers away, which I should never wish to be -done. Or, if he did not, they would persecute me still worse than -they are doing. So between the two things I don't know what to do." - -I strove as hard as I could to exhort the boy to patience, giving -him what comfort I could, and I even offered to intercede between -him and his brothers; but this proposal he would not listen to, and -finally he decided that he would bear all in silence and would not -tell his father. So that matters were at a deadlock, and remained -so, until a new development began in the persecution of Arthur -Brownlow by his brothers--which consisted in the deliberate attempt -on their part to poison his father's mind against him by all sorts -of stories and fabrications, and so get rid of him. - -The diabolical attempt was made with greater and more elaborate -cunning than I should have imagined such stupid young men as the -Brownlows to be capable of. They not only carried on the plot -themselves but got their neighbours--the young Spencers of Bray--to -assist them, and from all sides Farmer Brownlow kept continually -hearing of the precocious vices and bad manners of his darling son, -which were at first discredited by him, but afterwards believed, and -then greedily sought after. - -"It is all this incense that comes to the boy along of his singing -that is spoiling him," he said to me one day. "And you, Mr. -Calthorpe, are partly to blame for encouraging it. What good can all -that howling and caterwauling do the lad? Not a bit, that I can see, -except that it takes him into company from which he would be better -away. It stuffs the boy's head with nonsense, sir, and it will never -bring him to any good." - -It was in vain that I pointed out that there was practically no -foundation for any of these charges against his son, who was one -of the model boys of the parish. The farmer regarded me as a biased -witness, and kept his own opinion of the matter, which was more -and more inimical to poor Arthur every day. Do what I could in the -way of mediation, it was all no good. The ball once set rolling, -continued to roll in the same direction, until one day I heard, to -my unspeakable concern, that Arthur Brownlow had broken into his -father's bureau and extracted five pounds from it, that the money -had been found in his possession, and that he was now in the custody -of the police. - -[Illustration: "I disown him, sir."] - -I remember what a sensation the trial made at the assizes in the -neighbouring town of C----. I appeared as a witness in the boy's -behalf, and spoke up for him right gallantly; but all intercession -and testimony were of no avail--the evidence was held to be quite -conclusive. Although the father did not appear against him, the -brothers did, and their testimony was sufficient to convict the boy, -who was found guilty and sent to a reformatory for two years. - -I saw him before he went, and he said to me-- - -"Tell father, sir, that I am unjustly condemned. Tell him it was a -plot of my brothers, and that I would scorn to do such an action. -But tell him, moreover, that after this disgrace I could never bear -to show my face in the village again, and when I come out of this -place I shall go beyond the seas or somewhere, but certainly shall -never come to Hambleton, nor shall he be troubled by seeing my face -again." - -I wondered what effect this message would have on the old farmer, -but to my surprise he received it with the greatest nonchalance. - -"Aye, aye, sir," he said in reply, as with black face and lowering -brow he sat in his parlour with his sons around him. "The lad has -brought disgrace on the family. I disown him, sir. I knew what all -this singing and caterwauling would lead to: I said so from the -first, and my words have come true. He need never seek to see my -face again until he has redeemed his character. Then I'll see him, -but not till then. Meantime, as you are going to the reformatory -occasionally to visit him, tell the lad--for, although a thief, -he is a son of mine--that I will provide him with what money is -necessary, when he leaves that home of thieves and vagabonds, to set -up in something or to go away to some colony, or anything he likes; -and then, as I say, when he has redeemed his character, he can come -and see me--but not till then. Tell him he shall have the money, -sir, when he wants it; but tell him that till he has redeemed his -character I disown him." - -The money, however, was never applied for by Arthur Brownlow. I saw -him several times at the reformatory, and, indeed, tried to get him -released on the ground of insufficient evidence, but in vain. When -the end of his time came, he obtained some employment--I know not -how--went to London, and then I lost sight of him; for a month or -two afterwards I left my curacy in Wiltshire and took another in -Northumberland. - -I saw the Brownlows now for the first time since that event of -twenty years ago. I was informed incidentally that they had never -heard anything more of Arthur. "I suppose," said one of them, "he's -gone to the bad long ago." - -The old man in the chimney corner now white-haired and bowed -down with age, suffered a wistful look to pass over his face -occasionally, but that was all. No more was said, and no more did -I say. In a short time I had forgotten the story of twenty years -ago as completely as they had and as the village had; but there was -one remark alone of that afternoon's conversation which dwelt in my -mind: "I suppose he's gone to the bad." - -"Gone to the bad!" Why, there was one thing plain. _All the -Brownlows seemed to have gone to the bad_--not Arthur alone--for a -more besotted, lazy-looking set of men it had never been my lot to -see. - -It is the experience of every clergyman, when he comes to a new -parish, that he can soon find by a sort of intuition where the -troublesome spot in that parish is likely to be; and I very soon -knew by instinct that the troublesome people in my parish would be -the Brownlows--as was amply proved immediately after my arrival. -Scarcely a day passed but one or other of them was at the vicarage. -Now it was Robert--now it was Hugh--now it was Thomas. One came -requesting me to go to see their father, who was "in dreadful low -spirits." Another told me they had a horse for sale, and asked me if -I would like to buy it. The third, Thomas Brownlow, wanted to borrow -a little money of me; and this was the first actual hint I got of -the hazardous state of their affairs. - -"No, Thomas," I said, "I cannot lend you that money; for, in the -first place, it is your father, not you, who ought to have asked -for it, if the object is to make repairs on your farm; and, in -the second place, I think I am considerably poorer than you. A -well-to-do farmer has considerably more cash than a poor parson, and -so for the second reason I must absolutely decline." - -But this rebuff produced no diminution in the importunity of the -Brownlows, which at last culminated in the appearance of the eldest -brother and the father one day at the vicarage, when they told me, -with much display of emotion, that the farm was heavily mortgaged, -and, indeed, had been so for some time, and that the mortgagee, to -whom no payments had been made for some time past, threatened to -foreclose. Could I therefore either lend them the money, or get it -from a friend, or ask the squire to oblige them, or, in fact, help -them in any way whatever? - -At the moment I could think of no way in which I might be of service -to them in the manner indicated; but as, despite their importunity, -I was sincerely sorry for them, I said I would turn the matter over -in my mind, make inquiries, and let them know by the morrow if I -could do aught for them. - -The same afternoon my old college friend, Vincent Harrowby, who -was vicar of a neighbouring parish, drove over to see me, and dine -with me. It was the first time we had met for twenty years or more, -and it was to celebrate our meeting that I had given orders to my -housekeeper to prepare a somewhat elaborate repast in his honour -and for our mutual delectation. As we sat over dessert, Harrowby -talked of a score of subjects to which I paid a vague and partial -attention; but at last, as his "inextinguishable tongue," as we used -to call it at college, kept up its eternal stream of talk, I found -myself listening with rapt attention to what he was saying, which -sounded incredible to my ears. - -"You remember that young choir boy of yours, Arthur Brownlow?" -Harrowby was remarking. "Well, I saw him some years ago--about ten -years, I think--and he had developed then into a man of means. He -had plenty of money, I was told, and was in every respect a fine -fellow. I often wondered what it was in his private history which -you used to allude to in such a guarded manner----" - -But before my friend had been able to finish his sentence I, to his -great surprise, brought down my fist upon the table with the remark-- - -"The very man that is wanted! Where does he live, Harrowby, and what -is his address?" - -"As to that," replied my friend, with a look of amused surprise, "I -cannot tell you to a street now. But I suppose he will be somewhere -in the neighbourhood where I knew him, and that was in such and such -a street, Bloomsbury" (naming it), "where he was practising as a -solicitor. Doubtless he may have changed his residence, but Bedford -Row ought to know him." - -I then briefly explained to my friend the circumstances which would -make Arthur Brownlow's appearance at the present juncture a godsend -for the distressed family; for I must add that one or two of the -sons were married and had families, on which innocents, even more -than on the men, the blow would fall. - -[Illustration: "The very man that is wanted!"] - -"We must apply to him at all costs for the money," I remarked. "He -will never refuse to help his father, even if his brothers were -traitors. One of them must go to London to-morrow and search out -Arthur and obtain the funds needed." - -And so it was agreed, and the agreement was acted on; but our best -efforts, the personal search of Thomas Brownlow, the most diligent -inquiries of myself and my friend Harrowby, during the short time -at our disposal, were unable to discover any trace of the missing -Arthur, who was gone, like the wind, without a vestige to mark his -flight. No one seemed to know or remember much about him. Those who -affected to, said some one thing, some another, and in the Law List -his name was not to be found. - -The condition of the Brownlows had meanwhile become worse. The -little ready money which they had, had been expended in the journey -to London and the prosecution of the inquiries after Arthur. They -looked hungry and dejected, and I was informed that the mortgagee, -incensed at their inattention to his applications for money, had -definitely decided to put someone in possession of the farm by the -last day of May. - -I recommended the brothers to make a last appeal personally before -the end of May arrived, and see if by their united rhetoric they -could soften the inflexible heart of Mr. Suamarez. This with rustic -reluctance they ultimately consented to do. - -The four brothers, Hugh, William, Robert, and Thomas, proceeded to -Ashcroft. I believed they walked there, as their last horse had -been sold some months ago, and they had not a sixpence left to -pay railway fare. They arrived at the mansion of the inexorable -mortgagee, and were summarily refused admission by the servant, as -I had been. But with a pertinacity worthy of a better cause the -four men hung about the place hour after hour, with the intention -of securing a parley with Mr. Saumarez, with whom they were quite -unacquainted, having hitherto conducted their negotiations through -his agent. - -Towards the evening, as they prowled about the coppice surrounding -the house, they saw the owner of the manor, accompanied by his wife -and their young children, come on to the lawn, and no sooner was the -opportunity presented than the four men burst through the bushes and -approached him. - -Mrs. Saumarez turned deadly pale, and threw her arms round her -children at the sight of these four ill-clad and travel-stained -loafers, for so they looked, so suddenly appearing on the lawn -of the house, while Mr. Saumarez stood in front of his wife and -children and angrily demanded what they wanted. - -"It is just this, sir," said Hugh, rubbing his mouth with his sleeve -preparatory to making a speech, "we are the Brownlows, sir, and we -have travelled fifty miles to see you, sir. You're going to evict us -from our little farm that we have had in our family for years and -years without number. Give us some delay, sir--forgo your intention -for this year--till after the harvest, at least, until we see what -sort of crops we may have, and out of the profit of them we can pay -you your demands." - -[Illustration: Mr. Saumarez angrily demanded what they wanted.] - -"These speeches are all idle," responded Mr. Saumarez testily. "I -made up my mind long ago. I know you to be good-for-nothing men, -through whose laziness your old father's farm has got into its -present condition. You deserve no pity, and you deserve no delay. -For the present state of affairs you have only yourselves to blame. -You must take the consequences of your conduct." - -"Oh, sir." began Hugh, who was the spokesman of the rest, "think of -our circumstances. We have children, as you have; they will all be -thrown on the world----" - -"Into this," replied Mr. Saumarez, "I cannot go. When the mortgage -came into my hands--which it did along with some adjoining property -about a year ago, on my return from abroad--I made a particular -point of asking my agent what sort of men conducted the farm. -And hearing from him that they were four brothers, all men of -questionable character, named Brownlow, who owed their present -degradation to their own laziness and folly, I said I wished to hear -no more, and that the farm, which stood conveniently adjacent to a -manor which is also mine, must be appropriated with no more delay -than the usual legal routine permitted of. That is what I said to my -agent. I presume--in fact, I know--he has acted on my orders. I have -nothing more to say about it, so I wish you a good evening." - -"We have children--two of us are married men," exclaimed Hugh, -appealing to Mrs. Saumarez. - -"We have had sickness in the family for months past," added Robert. - -"It is not our fault--the harvests have been bad year after year." - -But they were speaking to deaf ears. Mr. Saumarez, motioning to his -wife and children, was turning away to enter the house. - -"I don't know," said Thomas, who had not hitherto spoken, "what will -become of our old father----" - -"What?" inquired Mr. Saumarez sharply, turning round, "Is your old -father still alive?" - -"Yes, he is," they all replied at once, staring at him with most -unfeigned surprise. - -"I understood from my agent," replied Mr. Saumarez, his voice -getting thick as he spoke, "that there were only you four -brothers--men who deserved--men whom I knew to be----Look here, you -Brownlows. You tell me your old father is still living. Is he well? -Is he in fair health? Does his memory remain good? And how--how do -you treat him in his old age?" - -"How do we treat him, sir?" inquired Hugh Brownlow and the rest, -speaking slowly and gazing at Mr. Saumarez as if they had seen a -ghost. "Why, as to that----" - -"As to that," I said, appearing from the drawing-room with old -Mr. Brownlow on my arm--for in deference to his expressed wish, -after the departure of his sons, I had travelled with him by train -to Ashcroft in order that he too might plead, and we had just -arrived--"as to that, Mr. Saumarez, the father can best answer for -himself. See if he is not still an honoured and reverend sire. Look -at him yourself, sir; for before heaven I believe you are Arthur -Brownlow." - -"Yes," exclaimed the old man on my arm, his eyes streaming with -tears, "it is my son, my own son Arthur, at last! My former ruin is -nothing to my present joy, for I see the boy whom I have wronged, -whose reproaching image has been present with me for years--I see -him at last before me; I hold him in my arms; I ask pardon of him, -profoundest pardon, for all the injustice I have done him; and I -rejoice to think that at last my lifelong sorrow is at an end." - -Arthur was weeping on his father's neck. The brothers stood around -petrified with astonishment. - -"It is true," said Arthur Brownlow in a voice choked with emotion; -"it is true that, had my brothers been the only parties concerned, -I might perhaps--nay, I am sure I should--without compunction have -retaliated as the world retaliates. But I never knew--I never -suspected--that you, my father, were among them. I have wept for you -as dead, for such tidings reached me some time ago. I have mourned -for the unjust opinion you held of me, mourned since my boyhood, and -even as a man I mourned. But now I hold you in my arms--alive, God -be thanked! and forgiving, Christ be praised! And greater happiness -can I not know, save if one of my own children should bring me the -same experience, and then my felicity might be as great." - -The mystery of the lost identity of Arthur Brownlow was easily -explained. He had prospered in the world as Arthur Brownlow, when -my friend Harrowby knew him; but shortly after that date he had -married a Miss Saumarez, who held large estates in Jamaica, and -whose name he was compelled to take for the sake of securing the -entail of her property to the children. He had lived in Jamaica -for nearly ten years, and had recently come back, to find some -property near Hambleton added to his possessions, and with it the -mortgage over Brownlow's farm. His agent only knew that Brownlow's -farm was managed by the young Brownlows, since the old father had -long retired from active participation in it; and with this account -of the place Arthur Brownlow was naturally satisfied, since he -believed his father had died some years ago. He intended to punish -his brothers for their treachery and cruelty, but it is questionable -whether his intention would ever have gone beyond reading them a -severe, salutary lesson and then reinstating them in their freehold. -At any rate, as circumstances happened, it had no chance of doing -so, for the sight of his father so overwhelmed poor Arthur with joy, -that all was forgotten, all was forgiven, in that happy moment; -and now in the whole of my parish there is not a happier or better -conducted place than Brownlow's farm. - - - - -[Illustration: An International League of Peace] - -AN INTERNATIONAL LEAGUE OF PEACE. - - -DEAR READERS OF THE QUIVER, - -The recent Rescript of the Czar of Russia, inviting the Great Powers -to entertain the idea of a general disarmament, was naturally -received with joyful acclaim by the whole Religious World. There -were some, of course, who shook their heads dubiously when they -heard of it. "Can it be true," they said, "that the Autocrat of -All the Russias is on the side of peace?" And then they have -proceeded to hint at ulterior motives for the announcement. But -the great majority of Christian people have preferred to take his -Imperial Majesty at his word, and to accept, with deep thankfulness -to Almighty God, the Supreme Disposer of all men and all things, -this gracious sign of a long-hoped-for age of universal peace and -good-will, foretold by the prophets and proclaimed by the herald -angels at Bethlehem. - -But the Great White Czar himself does not need to be reminded that -Governments are powerless unless they are supported by the peoples -whom they represent in the International Councils thus convened. -And this support, when voiced in a definite form, is a mighty -force which will carry everything before it. Here, then, and now, -under the inspiration of this blessed Christmas season, is given -us an opportunity of responding to the call for Peace, which, if -neglected, may not be repeated for many a generation yet to come. - -We have been awaiting the inauguration of a collective expression of -Christian approval and support of the Peace Rescript, not only from -our own, but from all the Christian nations; but up to the present -no such international movement appears to have been organised. We -therefore invite our readers all over the world to join in a hearty -and thankful endorsement of the sentiment of the Czar's Manifesto, -and thus set in motion a powerful engine for good. We suggest also -that they should all enlist their adult friends, without restriction -of sex or creed, in the same Christlike cause, by obtaining their -signatures to the declaration to be found on the other side of this -leaflet. - -When the sheet has been filled up With all the signatures -obtainable, it should be returned without delay to the Editor of -THE QUIVER, La Belle Sauvage, London, E.C. Further sheets will be -supplied, post free, on application, or any number of plain sheets -may be added by the collector as required. - - Yours, - In the service of the Prince of Peace, - The Editor of the Quiver - -An Honorarium of TEN POUNDS will be awarded to the Sender of the -First Thousand Signatures, under regulations which will appear in -our next issue. - - - - -[Illustration: THE QUIVER INTERNATIONAL LEAGUE OF PEACE.] - -THE QUIVER INTERNATIONAL LEAGUE OF PEACE. - -(_No person under sixteen years of age should be asked to sign._) - - -We, the undersigned, desire to express our earnest sympathy with the -peace proposals contained in the recent Rescript of his Imperial -Majesty the Czar of Russia, and hereby authorise the attachment of -our names to any International Memorial having for its object the -promotion of Universal Peace upon a Christian basis. - - NAMES. ADDRESSES. - - _______________________________________________________________ - - _______________________________________________________________ - - _______________________________________________________________ - - _______________________________________________________________ - - _______________________________________________________________ - - _______________________________________________________________ - - _______________________________________________________________ - - _______________________________________________________________ - - _______________________________________________________________ - - _______________________________________________________________ - -[Illustration: Our Roll of Heroic Deeds] - -Our Roll of Heroic Deeds - - -TWO MANCHESTER HEROES. - -One of the many notable acts of bravery which are constantly being -performed by the members of fire brigades all over the kingdom is -here depicted. The lower floors of a house situated in Portland -Street, Manchester, were in flames, and in an upper window a man -suddenly appeared and cried for help. A ladder was immediately -procured, but, to the dismay of the onlookers, it was too short -by several feet, and seemed absolutely useless. However, Fireman -Lawrence swarmed up the ladder, closely followed by Clayton, and -when they reached the top, the latter so placed his arms that -Lawrence could stand upon them and thus reach the narrow gutter -above, on to which he clambered. The breathless crowd beneath them -watched Lawrence balance himself on the ledge, and, with great -difficulty and at terrible peril to his life, pass the imprisoned -man to his companion. When Lawrence, by the help of Clayton, gained -the ladder in safety again, thundering roars on roars of applause -worthily greeted the plucky men in recognition of their magnificent -bravery. - - - - -AS CHAPLAIN TO MR. SPEAKER - -_Some Reminiscences of Parliament._ - -[Illustration: EX-SPEAKER PEEL. - -(_Photo: Russell and Sons._) - -By F. W. Farrar, D.D., Dean of Canterbury. - -MR. SPEAKER GULLY. - -(_Photo: Bassano, Ltd._)] - -_PART II._ - - -I once had the honour of meeting Mr. Gladstone at a very small -dinner-party of some eight or ten persons; and after dinner I -found myself sitting beside him and one of our most distinguished -men of letters--Mr. W. E. H. Lecky, M.P. It happened to be a -time when party feeling was running very high in Parliament, -and I purposely turned the conversation in that direction. The -question of Home Rule was under discussion, and it was common for -Irish members--especially for some who were of very excitable -temperament--to be called to order. Strong language was frequently -used, such as quite passed the ordinary limits of Parliamentary -conventions. I mentally recalled the current anecdote--I do not -know whether it be true or not--that Daniel O'Connell, in one -of his fierce disputes with Mr. Disraeli, had said that he must -be descended from the unrepentant thief; and I asked the great -statesman whether, during his half-century of experience in -the House of Commons, there had been any change in the license -of vituperation, which happened at that moment to be specially -prevalent. "No," he said; "in that respect there has been no change. -At all the crises which my memory recalls there have been outbursts -of violent expression quite as strong as any which have been heard -of late." As the conversation continued, he mentioned two changes -which had occurred in the House of Commons--one a mere matter of -costume; the other of much greater significance. An American guest -at the dinner-table had observed that he could not remember any -other party since he had been in England at which he was the only -person present who wore a moustache. Mr. Gladstone said that, when -he first entered Parliament, there were actually more members who -still wore pigtails than those who wore the beard or moustache. At -that time no one, as a rule, indulged in those appendages except -officers in the army. There was one exception, the late Mr. Muntz, -who was for many years member for Birmingham; and so noticeable was -this exception, that in the House he was popularly known as "the man -with the beard." - -[Illustration: MR. W. E. H. LECKY. - -(_Photo: Melhuish and Gale, Ltd., Pall Mall, W._)] - -The other change was this: "In old days," said Mr. Gladstone, -"the House used to have an absolute control of bores." Few of the -members took frequent part in the debates. Discussion seemed, by -common consent, to be left mainly to a score or two of leaders. -There were gentlemen who had been for long years representatives of -important cities, who were never known to have opened their lips. -I myself in my boyhood knew one highly respected member who, if I -remember rightly, had sat for a county town for nearly fifty years, -and whose sole contribution to the debates in Parliament, for all -that period, had been the single sentence, "I second the motion!" -It is widely different now. I suppose that now any member who has -sat for a number of years, and never even made his maiden speech, -is a rare exception. Although the gift of utterance is supposed to -be very much less rare than once it was, yet the few only are able -to speak really well. This, however, does not prevent members from -the free expression of their opinions, because in print one speech -does not look very much unlike another. In many cases in these days -members are speaking with far less reference to the House than to -the Press gallery. Their constituents expect them to speak, and -like to see their names and remarks in the daily papers, however -ruthlessly they may be abbreviated by the reporters. In former days -a bore was never tolerated. After a very few sentences the House -gave such unconcealed expression to its impatience, and the orator -was interrupted by such a continuous roar of "Divide, divide!... -'vide!... 'vide!... 'vide!" that the stoutest-hearted, after a short -effort, gave way, and the House was not afflicted with a wearying -tide of commonplace, "in one weak, washy, everlasting flood." At -present it is not always so. It is indeed but seldom that a member -feels perfectly willing to bestow on his fatigued fellow-senators -the whole amount of his tediousness; but I have, not infrequently, -seen a member listen with the blandest smile of indifference to -the torrent of interruptions which marred his oratory--and tire -his audience into partial silence by leaving on their minds the -conviction that he _intended_ to say out what he had meant to say, -so that the shortest way to get rid of him would be to let him -maunder on to the end! - -[Illustration: DEAN FARRAR IN HIS OLD CORNER IN THE GALLERY.] - -Reverting to the subject of strong language in the House, and -again speaking of O'Connell, I asked Mr. Gladstone whether he had -been present when the great demagogue had convulsed the House with -laughter by his parody on Dryden's epigram on the three great poets, -Homer, Virgil, and Milton. "Oh, yes," he answered. "I see him now -before my mind's eye, as, with a broad gleam of amusement over -his face, he kept looking up at Colonel Sibthorpe, the somewhat -eccentric member for Lincoln, and then jotting down something in his -notes. Colonel Sibthorpe, having been an officer in the army, was -exempt from the then current convention of being close-shaven, and -he was bearded like a pard. I cannot recall the exact epigram, but I -remember the incident perfectly." - -[Illustration: (_Photo: Lawrence, Dublin._) - -DANIEL O'CONNELL. - -(_From the Painting by David Wilkie._)] - -I had never seen O'Connell's epigram in print, but I quoted it as I -had, years ago, heard it quoted to me--and quite incorrectly. "Oh, -these colonels!" said O'Connell, "they remind me of the celebrated -lines of the poet"-- - - "Three colonels in three distant counties born, - Armagh and Clare, and Lincoln did adorn; - The first in lengthiness of beard surpassed, - The next in bushiness, in both the last: - The force of nature could no further go-- - To _beard_ the third she _shaved_ the other two!" - -That was the form in which I had heard it quoted, but Mr. Lecky -at once suggested that the third and fourth lines were purely -imaginary, and I have since found that they really were something to -this effect-- - - "The first in direst bigotry surpassed, - The next in impudence--in both the last." - -Delivered as the supposed "celebrated lines of the poet" were in -O'Connell's rich brogue, and with his indescribable sense of humour, -it may well be imagined that it was long before the laugh of the -members died away! - -In old days I was not infrequently present in the House during the -gladiatorial combats, which were then of incessant occurrence, -between Mr. Gladstone and Mr. Disraeli. The House was always -crowded, and the scenes were marked by an interest and vivacity -which are now of far rarer occurrence. I well remember a long and -brilliant speech of Mr. Disraeli's, which occupied perhaps two hours -or more, late at night. During the speech--as is very common--he -had to refresh his voice repeatedly by drinking some composition -or other. Water is the safest refreshment for speakers under these -circumstances, but I suppose that the friend who had been thus -ministering to the speaker's necessities had brought sherry, or -something of that kind. The consequence was that, without any -fault on his part and quite unconsciously, Mr. Disraeli--who was, -I believe, an habitually temperate man--was speaking at last with -far less point and lucidity than was his wont. At the close of his -speech Mr. Gladstone rose to answer, and began by the remark, "I -shall not notice any of the concluding observations of the right -honourable gentleman, because I am sure that the House will agree -with me in thinking that they were due to"--and then he added with -marked emphasis--"a somewhat _heated_ imagination." - -It was unfortunate in those years of political antagonism that -the two eminent leaders were men of temperaments absolutely -antipathetic. It would have been difficult to find two men who, -remarkable as were their gifts, differed from each other more -widely in almost every characteristic of their minds. Mr. Disraeli -was a man of essentially kind heart, and one whom I have good -reason to regard with respect and gratitude. Much of his apparent -acerbity, many of his strong attacks, were really only on the -surface. I feel quite sure that for Mr. Gladstone--in spite of the -many interchanges of criticism which sometimes sounded a little -acrimonious--he felt not only a profound respect and admiration, -but even no small personal regard. On one occasion he spoke of his -great rival as "my right honourable _friend_, if he will allow me -to call him so." The characteristic of Mr. Gladstone's mind was an -intense moral sincerity, and he could not return the compliment. -One cannot but regret that he felt himself unable cordially to -reciprocate the kindly expression. Had he felt able to do so--had -these two political opponents been able from that time to speak -of each other as "my right honourable friend"--many acerbities of -debate might have been materially softened. But in his reply, Mr. -Gladstone, while he spoke with kind appreciation, could not, or -would not, use the phrase which Mr. Disraeli had on that single -occasion adopted. Perhaps he attached to it a meaning far deeper -than its conventional significance. At any rate, the fact remains -that, while in his response he spoke with dignified recognition of -his opponent's gifts, and was evidently gratified by the expression -he had used, he could not get himself to call Mr. Disraeli by the -sacred name of "friend," and that word was, I believe, never again -exchanged between them. But I only mention this little incident -because in different ways it seems to me to have been touchingly -to the credit of the best qualities of both. And in spite of so -many years of gladiatorial combat in the arena of the House, when -Lord Beaconsfield died Mr. Gladstone pronounced a eulogy upon him, -generous yet strictly accurate in every particular. - -[Illustration: DISRAELI'S FAVOURITE ATTITUDE IN THE HOUSE OF -COMMONS.] - -On another occasion Mr. Gladstone--_more suo_ in his earlier -days--had almost leapt to his feet to make a controversial speech, -which he had poured forth with all that intensity of conviction -which held the House in rapt attention even while many of its -members were being convinced against their will. Mr. Disraeli began -his reply by the remark that "Really the right honourable gentleman -sprang up with such vehemence, and spoke with such energy, that -he was often glad that there was between them"--and here he laid -his hands on the large table at which the clerks sit and at which -members take the oath, which occupies the greater part of the -space between the Government bench and the leading members of the -Opposition--"that there was between them a good solid substantial -piece of furniture." The House laughed good-humouredly at the -little harmless sarcasm and at the notion of Disraeli requiring a -barrier of personal protection against such vehement assaults! I -was told by one who heard the remark--and it is a pleasant little -incident--that, on the evening after this speech, Mr. Gladstone had -met Lady Beaconsfield at some social gathering, and, so far from -resenting the little hit at himself, had cordially complimented her -on the excellent speech which her husband had made on the previous -evening. There is, however, no doubt that Mr. Gladstone sometimes -winced under the subtle swordplay of his antagonist, just as -Mr. Disraeli must have felt the force of the rolling tide of his -opponent's oratory. But while Mr. Gladstone sat listening with every -emotion reflected on his expressive and mobile countenance, Mr. -Disraeli sat motionless, with features as unchanging as if he wore a -mask. - -The Chaplain of the House has an excellent seat in the gallery--one -of the best seats for seeing and hearing--assigned to him by -the courtesy of the members. I not infrequently availed myself -of the privilege of occupying this seat, and in this way I was -present at some of Mr. Gladstone's last appearances in the House, -I particularly recall an incident which has since then been -frequently alluded to, and which was very highly to the credit of -Mr. Gladstone's essential kindness of heart. Mr. Austen Chamberlain, -son of the Right Hon. J. Chamberlain, had delivered what was, I -believe, his maiden speech. It exhibited many of the qualities of -clear enunciation and forcible statement which make his father -one of the best speakers in the present Parliament. Mr. Gladstone -and (I suppose) the Liberal party in general had felt much hurt -by the separation of Mr. Chamberlain from their councils, and by -his partial alliance with their political opponents; and this -feeling could not but be shared by Mr. Gladstone, who carried -into politics an ardour of conviction of deeper intensity than -is felt by ordinary minds. Mr. Austen Chamberlain's speech had, -of course, been delivered in favour of views which Mr. Gladstone -impugned, and nothing would have been easier to him than to bring -down on the head of the young member the sledgehammer force of his -experience, eloquence, and intellectual supremacy. So far from this, -Mr. Gladstone not only pronounced a warm eulogy on the speech, but -went out of his way to say--turning to Mr. Joseph Chamberlain, -and entirely overlooking any momentary exacerbation of political -opposition--that it was a speech which, in the ability and the -modest force with which it had been delivered, "could not but be -very delightful to a father's heart." Simple and spontaneous as the -expression was, it caused visible pleasure to all who heard it. Such -genuine amenities do much to soften the occasional exasperations of -political struggle. - -[Illustration: MR. AUSTEN CHAMBERLAIN. - -(_When making his maiden speech._)] - -I have heard many fine and telling speeches in the House from its -foremost debaters, from the days of Lord Palmerston to our own; -but certainly I have heard no orators who impressed me at all so -deeply as Mr. Gladstone and Mr. Bright. It is, however, generally -acknowledged that most of Mr. Bright's finest and most memorable -speeches were not delivered in the House of Commons, but to vaster -and more sympathetic audiences of the people from the midst of whom -he had sprung. If I were asked what was the most eloquent speech to -which I ever listened, I should at once answer, The speech which -I heard Mr. Bright deliver at St. James's Hall at the time of the -Second Reform Bill. The meeting was a mass meeting, and a ticket had -been given me for the platform by an old friend and schoolfellow. I -was seated between him and Mr. Frederic Harrison, just behind the -orator of the evening. In the front row with Mr. Bright were the Rt. -Hon. J. Ayrton, who had been First Commissioner of Works, and Mr. -W. A. Cremer and Mr. Odger, who were prominent working-men leaders -of the time. Among the audience, in the middle of the hall, sat -Mr. John Stuart Mill, then one of the most celebrated thinkers of -the day; and, throughout the meeting, he applauded with vehemence, -freely bestowing his claps even on the obvious crudities of some -of the working-men who subsequently spoke. As I was close behind -Mr. Bright I could almost read the notes which lay before him on -his broad-brimmed hat. They showed his method, which was carefully -to write out his speech, to learn it by heart, and to refresh his -memory by having before him some sheets of paper, on which in a -large legible hand he had put down the leading substantives of -every sentence. Besides the magic of his strong, manly, sympathetic -voice, and the force of his Saxon English, and the purity of a style -formed on the best models--especially, I believe, on John Milton and -John Bunyan--he owed much of his power as an orator to the extreme -deliberation of his delivery. Owing to this, an audience was able -to see the point which he was intending to bring out, long before -he actually expressed it. They were gradually wound up into a pitch -of ever-increasing excitement and sympathy until the actual climax, -so that it almost seemed as if the speaker was merely expressing -in his single voice the common sentiment of thousands. Now, at the -time of which I speak, Mr. Bright had been passing--as all the -best and greatest men have to pass in their time--through what he -called "hurricanes of abuse, and tornadoes of depreciation." He -was commonly spoken of, in many of the daily papers, not only as -a Radical, but as a revolutionary Jacobin, a political firebrand, -and a pernicious demagogue. The point which he wanted to impress -on his deeply sympathising hearers was that it was monstrous so -to characterise him, when all that he had done was to point out -the actual existence of perils which he had neither created nor -intensified, but about which he had only uttered those timely -warnings which sometimes enable a patriot to avert the terrible -consequences that it might otherwise be too late to remedy. He -spoke as follows, and the audience, which crowded the hall to its -utmost capacity, followed him from clause to clause with breathless -stillness. I cannot quote his exact words, but they were to this -general effect:-- - -[Illustration: (_Photo: Fradelle and Young._) - -LORD PALMERSTON.] - -"I have," he said, "been called an incendiary, a firebrand, a -dangerous agitator. Now, supposing that I were to go to the -inhabitants of a village or hamlet on the side of a mountain, and -were to say to them, 'Do you see that thin blue smoke which is -issuing from the rifts of the mountain summit above your heads?' -and were to warn them that it was a menace of peril. Suppose that -they were heedless of my warning, and denounced me for awaking -unnecessary alarm: and suppose that soon afterwards the mountain -became a huge bellowing volcano, filling the heavens with red-hot -ashes, and pouring huge streams of burning lava down its sides. -Would it have been I who created that volcano? Would it have been -my hand which stored it with combustible materials? Should I have -been a dangerous agitator because I had warned the dwellers in that -mountain hamlet to avert or escape from the perils by which they -were 'menaced'?" - -[Illustration: (_Photo: Fradelle and Young, Regent Street._) -Signature] - -Such is my recollection of the passage which I heard so many years -ago, and which I have doubtless spoiled in attempting to reproduce. -But when the great orator, speaking with weighty deliberation, had -reached the _dénouement_ of his striking metaphor, so powerfully had -he wrought on the feelings of his hearers that an effect followed -such as I have never seen on any other occasion. The whole vast -audience, as though swayed by one common impulse, sprang to its -feet--not gradually and at the initiative of one or two _claqueurs_ -and partisans, but with an absolutely electric sympathy, and they -remained on their feet cheering the speaker for five minutes. It -was by far the most decisive triumph of the magic and mastery of -eloquence that I have ever witnessed in my life. - -Another remarkable incident occurred at the same meeting. Mr. -Ayrton, in moving a vote of thanks to the chairman, had alluded to -a huge procession--part of a demonstration of the working-classes -in favour of the Reform Bill--which had taken place in London a few -days previously. Lady Burdett-Coutts had witnessed the procession -from a balcony in the window of her house as it passed down the -length of Piccadilly and Oxford Street. She had been recognised, -and, knowing her generous beneficence, the working-men had cheered -her. Mr. Ayrton alluded to this, and had the very dubious taste -to express a strong regret that the Queen, who was at Buckingham -Palace, had not done the same. The allusion was singularly -misplaced, and Mr. Ayrton, as one who had been a member of the -Government, ought to have known that under no circumstances could -her Majesty thus recognise a demonstration in favour of a Bill which -excited great differences of opinion, and was still under discussion -by the House of Commons. The speech was still more _mal à propos_ -because it seemed, whether intentionally or not, to attribute to -her Majesty a lack of that sympathy with the aspirations of the -people which, on the contrary, the Queen has invariably shown, so -that her kindness of heart has won a more unbounded affection than -has ever been lavished on any previous Sovereign. Mr. Bright felt -how unfortunate was this _gaucherie_, into which the speaker had -perhaps unintentionally been led. He saw also how injurious it might -be to the effect which the meeting would otherwise produce. When -he rose to acknowledge the vote of thanks to himself, he not only -defended her Majesty from the blame which Mr. Ayrton had implied, -but, alluding with touching simplicity to the long and uninterrupted -devotion which the Royal Lady had shown for so many years of -widowhood to the memory of her great and princely consort, he showed -the unfairness of the insinuation which might seem to have been -implied. - -The great voices of Mr. Gladstone and Mr. Bright are silent. They -have passed from the heated arena of politics, "to where beyond -these voices there is peace"; and they have not left their equals -behind them. We seem to be passing through one of those interspaces -in national life which are not illuminated by minds so bright -with genius as those which have ceased to shine. The soil of the -next generation may perhaps produce a harvest as rich, or richer. -Meanwhile we may at least rejoice that - - "Great men have been among us; hands that penned - And tongues that uttered wisdom:--better none." - - - - -[Illustration: The House Economical] - -THE HOUSE ECONOMICAL - -By Lina Orman Cooper, Author of "Our Home Rulers," Etc. - - -"Domestic economy consists in spending a penny to save a pound. -Political economy consists in spending a pound to save a penny." - -Such is an aphorism left us by one of the wisest of men. It exactly -defines the principle on which I shall deal with the subject of this -paper. Real economy means good management, and is quite apart from -penuriousness. It implies proper regulation of a household, and -careful disposition or arrangement of work. We can be thrifty of -our talents, time, and money without being niggardly, for frugality -need never descend into parsimony if we are watchful. There are more -precious things than £ s. d., after all, and looking after those -other things makes us sympathetic and original. - -For instance, the real House Economical suggests sunshine and -purity. Without these, smallness of rent will be more than -counter-balanced by increase in doctors' fees. Of necessity, it must -be liberally and variously supplied, or satiety follows. It is true -that red herrings offer a larger amount of nutriment for a given sum -of money than any other kind of animal food. Yet it would not be -really economical to feed our households continually on halfpenny -herrings. A farthing dip is the cheapest light obtainable--but eyes -would be ruined if we provided nothing but single candles in our -establishments. Spices and condiments are rather adjuncts of food -than necessities, yet they are medicinal in their properties and of -extreme value in rendering food more palatable and stimulating a -jaded appetite. So far for food--for it is with food we generally -find a tendency to save begins. - -True economy consists in maintaining the standard of health in a -family at its highest. Expenditure towards this end can never be -extravagant, even if it ranges from thick curtains over our doors -to silk mufflers in windy weather. Not to provide our children -with warm underclothing on the score of expense is the height of -extravagance; to be content without sanitary surroundings and -labour-saving appliances the depth of foolishness. - -The House Economical may first of all be beautiful. A horizon -that is bounded by a need for thrift more often than not tends to -greyness and gloom. This should not be. Lovely surroundings are of -economic value in keeping spirits up to a certain point. Digestion -is promoted by eating in a bright, airy dining-room. A well-arranged -bedroom may be productive of sleep. - -Comfortable homes are economical ones, in the best sense of the -word, saving time, fatigue, and temper. One hour's opportune rest -on a Chesterfield may save hours of malaise and headache. The -House Economical will have rules sufficiently elastic to allow of -such occasional pauses in work--"come-apart-and-rest-for-a-while" -possibilities--if called for. - -One great principle in the House Economical is never to spend money -on unwanted things because they happen to be seen. Another is, when -wanted, to get the best procurable. "Cheap and nasty" is a very -true union of words. Yet we must remember that some inexpensive -substitutes are quite as good as costly things. A copper kettle, for -instance, looks just as well and wears longer than a silver one. A1 -plate lasts a lifetime if taken care of. Serge is more useful than -satin, and just as suitable in its way. - -"She looketh well to the ways of her household" was said of the -virtuous woman of old. In the House Economical we must most closely -follow her example in its ingle-nooks. Our average cook thinks -it good to use only lumps of orrell in the range, ignoring the -possibilities of saving in any form. Now all housekeepers know that -pokers should be absent from the hearth if we would limit coal -bills; that cinders, sifted and washed, are most useful fuel for -frying and laundry work; that a judicious admixture of wet slack -with wood or "nuts" is advisable. There are two economical ways -of building and maintaining good fires in our parlours. One is to -ignite at the top and suffer to burn _downwards_. The other is to -lay and light after the usual fashion and "backen" with a bucket -of damp coal dust. Either procedure gives a fire that will burn -for hours without attention, if not "raked" by Mary Jane. We need -not, like the ghost in Hamlet, "be condemned to fast in fires" even -in the House Economical, if we see that every hearth burns its -own cinders--that the kitchen stove consumes every bit of table -refuse--and that the coal man delivers eight bags of slack with -every ton of coal. - -In the House Economical some laundry work must be done--by all -means send out starched things. But Jaeger underclothing, and -all flannels, last longer when washed at home. It has been said -that servants, nowadays, are like monkey soap--and "will not wash -clothes." But insertion of a clause in our hiring lease would show -them what is required in this line. To keep woollies soft and -unshrunken, they must be soaked in a bath containing two parts -cold to one of hot water. In this, a handful of boiled soap jelly -is stirred (to a lather) and to it one tablespoonful of ammonia -(liquid) added. This volatile spirit loosens all dirt, and our -clothing requires no rubbing, only a thorough rinsing. After shaking -well, the garments must be hung out in a shady, sunless place to -dry, and finished with a warm smoother. No "cast-iron back with a -hinge in it" is required for scientific washing, and a few minutes' -weekly supervision will enable the mistress of the House Economical -to clothe her household in double garments without fear. - -In the House Economical we shall rigidly exclude everything fusty -and dusty. Therefore carpets will be conspicuous by their absence -from the sleeping-rooms, especially those threadbare old lengths -and squares usually relegated to our bedrooms. Floors will be -disinfected and stained, at the cost of a few pence, by the use of -permanganate of potash, and polished with beeswax and turpentine. -A cleanly smell, exemption from germs and spores and microbes, -and knowledge of the perfectly sanitary condition of our sleeping -chambers will result. - -"A stitch in time saves nine" is the motto writ large on the lintel -of the House Economical. A supply of carpenterial tools, then, -will always be at hand to prevent recourse to that most expensive -luxury--the British workman. We shall oil locks and link chains, -keep our window cords mended and its sash running free. We shall -learn how to hammer and plane and file and screw. A bit and brace -will be no wonderful instrument to us but a much-used friend. A -handy man about the place is a well-known boon. Who can value at her -right worth the handy woman? - -It is a well-known fact that "many hands make light work," but we -must remember that limbs imply mouths, and that mouths must be -filled. Hence, in the House Economical, each child will have its own -vineyard to keep. Helpful, willing little fingers will be trained -to usefulness. Our young folk find as much pleasure in _resultful_ -effort as in objectless employment--making beds can be as much -"play" as arranging a doll's house--and Tommy can be taught to mend -as well as to break. - -Perhaps, in the House Economical, we are inclined rather to forget -that there is a time to spend as well as a time to keep (Eccles. -iii.). The very fact of an economic course in general ought to help -us to a liberal one at proper seasons. Cheese-paring and skinning a -flint are occupations at all times to be avoided, more especially -so when festivals or hospitality call for an open hand. The royal -road to prosperity is bordered by scattered wealth and watered with -generosity. The wisest of men said so, and I believe him. - -What can I say further of the many other avenues leading up to and -from the House Economical? Of the soap to be bought by the stone and -the soda in sacks? Of the plaice for luncheon instead of halibut? -Of rhubarb mixed with cherries, and such like? In treating of such -details in the House Economical, we are treading on less flowery -meads than when considering its twin sisters--the Palace Beautiful -and the House Comfortable. Yet, perhaps, it needs more real wisdom -to run a family coach on economically pleasant lines than it does -to be either artistic or cosy. "Common tasks require all the force -of a trained intellect to bear upon them." So it needs a cultivated -brain, sanctified common sense, and skilful hands, to brighten the -everyday minutiæ of life in the House essentially Economical. - - - - -[Illustration: THE MINOR CANON'S DAUGHTER] - -THE MINOR CANON'S DAUGHTER - -_THE STORY OF A CATHEDRAL TOWN._ - -By E. S. Curry, Author of "One of the Greatest," "Closely Veiled," -Etc. - - - - -CHAPTER VII. - -"BIP? BIP?" - - -Mrs. Lytchett was paying a homiletic visit to Mrs. Bethune. She -often did. She had great ideas of the duty of a Bishop's wife in -keeping the wives of all the other clergy up to theirs; and there -was much in the Bethune household that, in her opinion, required -exceptional looking after. She liked Mrs. Bethune very much, and -pitied her not a little. Just now, she must require help in managing -Marjorie. A girl fresh from school--and not at all the school Mrs. -Lytchett had advised for her--was almost always tiresome at first, -till she had been settled into her place. Mrs. Lytchett meant to -settle Marjorie. - -"Oh, I am glad to see you up, and looking well," she said, coming in -briskly on the early afternoon's calm. - -Mr. Bethune put a chair for her beside his wife's sofa, and then sat -down again to the littered table. He had long ago attuned himself -to a placidity and aloofness in the midst of chatter which nothing -ordinary could disturb. - -"How dreadfully busy Mr. Bethune looks! Is it another book?" Mrs. -Lytchett said. - -With a murmured, "I had better go and look after the boys," Marjorie -obeyed a glance from her mother's merry eyes, and went away through -the window. She was apt to fret and rebel at Mrs. Lytchett's -interferences, and was specially resentful at any implied criticism -of her mother. - -"What a big girl Marjorie grows! She is quite startling sometimes. -One forgets she isn't a child." - -"She has grown up early--to fill my place," with a little sigh. - -"Oh, I hope not," was the cheery response. "She could not do that, -you know--at any rate, not so successfully. By the way, I came -partly to ask about her. Is she engaged to Mr. Warde?" - -"Engaged? No. She is scarcely eighteen." - -"But he evidently admires her--there is no mistaking that--he takes -complete possession of her. Now, what do you wish about it?" - -"It isn't what I wish," gently. "You are very kind--but Marjorie is -a girl who will settle such a matter for herself." - -"Oh, but that is nonsense! Those things can always be managed with -proper care." - -"But I should be sorry to have her managed. Nothing forced upon -Marjorie will make her happy. She must be left to herself." - -"How mistaken! You would not leave her to herself if a bad man were -in question." - -"I should take care not to put her in the way of a bad man," with -dignity. - -"You would prevent her meeting him? Exactly; then why act -differently when it is someone you like? However, there is time for -that. There is another matter. Do you know anything of Mr. Pelham's -household?" - -"No, nothing." - -"The Bishop likes him, thinks him a great acquisition, and he -visits at Oldstead. I had him to dinner, and he and Charity sang -nicely. I'm not sure," looking wise, "that there isn't something -between----However, he sent his baby to see me this morning--a most -wilful, spoilt little thing. That nurse will not do at all." - -"You share Sandy's opinion." - -"Ah! I heard your boys had taken to the baby. Perhaps that was -what made her so tiresome this morning. I warned Mr. Pelham what -mischiefs they were," candidly. "But the nurse is insufferable. -Dressed in a sort of dove-coloured dress and a hat, and all her hair -waved--kid gloves, and an embroidered skirt under her dress. I asked -her if Mr. Pelham had given her leave to dress like that." - -"A man does not notice," said Mrs. Bethune, glad that Marjorie was -not by to comment. - -"I told her that I should speak to him, as she did not seem to -realise her own duty, and also about the child's dress. It was -ridiculous." - -"A man could not know," suggested Mrs. Bethune. - -"She was very impertinent, and then we found that the baby had -run away. We could not find her anywhere, and she had got to the -Bishop's room through the window. It seems that your boys had shown -her the way. It seems rather hard that the Bishop of the diocese -shouldn't be free from intrusion in his own palace. And he was very -busy--just going off." - -At mention of her boys a little tender smile crept into Mrs. -Bethune's eyes. "He is always good to the boys," she said to the -implied reproach. - -"Good, yes--but that should prevent advantage being taken. And the -baby has a temper," pursued Mrs. Lytchett. "She fought and screamed -when I took her from his knee. She is evidently being brought up -very badly indeed. I am going to see about it now. Do you think -he will be back? I hear," in accents of disgust, "that he rides -backwards and forwards on one of those horrid bicycles." - -Mrs. Lytchett paused to wonder a little at the sudden flush -suffusing Mrs. Bethune's face, but went on: "I hope he won't -introduce these things into the Precincts, now we have kept them -away so long. I should have thought they might very well be left to -Blackton and such places." - -"Even the Duchess rides," Mrs. Bethune said softly. She felt -guiltily conscious that Marjorie and Charity, under Mr. Pelham's -instructions, had been riding for some days past--not only in the -Deanery garden as at first, but far away into the country. - -"The Duchess is the Duchess," sharply. "She does and tolerates many -things that seem to me a great pity." - - * * * * * - -Mr. Pelham had ridden home early that day, with the idea in his mind -of taking his baby down to the Canons' Court, and himself consulting -Mrs. Bethune about her. Marjorie had said, "Mother will know"; -Charity had said, "Ask Mrs. Bethune, she is the nicest woman to -consult"; and his own drawing in the direction where Marjorie might -be found made him jump at the advice. - -But he had found a tearful nurse and a belligerent baby; and he was -just emerging from a lively interview in the study, where he had -been told that, "if she couldn't dress as seemed fitting in such -a house, as the attendant of Miss Pelham, not just like a common -nurse, she would like to give a month's notice," when he met Mrs. -Lytchett crossing the hall to the drawing-room. - -"This is very kind of you," he began, conscious of an audible sniff -and the angry rustle of skirts behind him; and before him, Mrs. -Lytchett's tilted nose and stony eyes fixed in the same direction. -He had a man's horror of a scene, and he glanced apprehensively at -the turned-down corners of Mrs. Lytchett's mouth. - -"Bring Miss Barbara, nurse," he said hastily, and ushered his -visitor into the drawing-room. - -"What a remarkable apartment!" Mrs. Lytchett said in her deep voice, -looking round. "What alterations you have made!" - -"I hope you like it," he said courteously. - -"I daresay I shall, when I get used to it. I'm not one that approves -of changes," she responded. Then turning from frivolities, she sat -down and began seriously upon her business. - -"Your little girl came to see me this morning. I am afraid that -nurse of yours is very unfit for her position, and is doing her -great harm. She is spoilt and very wilful." - -"My little Barbara!" murmured Mr. Pelham, a pang filling his heart -at such words in connection with his baby, followed immediately -by a feeling that he should like to do some harm to his visitor. -Just then the door was opened widely, and the baby stood within the -doorway. - -To eyes not jaundiced, she was a perfect picture in a fitting -frame. The sun shone in, through old stained glass, on the brown -panelling of the hall behind her. A ray, through a side window of -the drawing-room, fell upon her, lighting up her vivacious, dark -beauty. Nurse, on seeing the visitor, had hastily given vent to her -temper, and arrayed her in the latest Regent Street confection--a -dainty short-waisted, long-skirted white satin frock trimmed with -costly lace, under which the bare pink toes just peeped, for Barbara -had scouted the accompanying shoes. - -With her face dimpling into smiles at sight of her father, she -caught up her skirt with one hand and hurried towards him. - -"Noo f'ock," she called out. - -Then she recognised the visitor, and paused, remembering the -morning's conflict, putting her finger into her mouth and -considering. A little to her father's dismay she tilted her -nose, and said interrogatively, "Bip? Bip?" much as if she were -questioning a terrier. Then she slowly sidled to his knee, eyeing -Mrs. Lytchett the while in evident doubt of her intentions. - -"Bip? Bip?" she queried again insistently, pointing her finger at -the visitor. - -"What is it, Barbie?" her father asked gently. - -"She means the Bishop," explained the Bishop's wife in disgusted -tones. "That is what she was screaming all through the hall this -morning, when I brought her from his study. It is a dreadful name. -You must say 'Bishop,' little one," she commanded in deep tones, -bending towards the baby. - -Barbara was not easily frightened, but the atmosphere was stormy, -and her dressing had been hurried. She glanced up into the stony -eyes above her, and perhaps gauged the lack of sympathy. With a -quiver of her rosy mouth she said faintly, "Barbedie say Bip," and -having thus asserted herself, threw herself against her father's -knees, her face buried. He afterwards related that he heard murmurs -of the obnoxious monosyllable; but fortunately the situation was -relieved by a piercing whistle that now sounded through the windows. - -As she heard it, a delighted smile came over Barbara's lifted -face--a kind of record of past delight and future hope. She raised -her hand, and pointed vaguely at the outside world. - -"Boy," she said ecstatically, wriggling hurriedly from her father's -knee. It was Sandy's summons to his comrade, and she hastened to -answer it. - -"I think it is the Bethune boys on their way home from school," Mr. -Pelham said apologetically. - -"It certainly sounds like them--no one else could make such a -dreadful noise," Mrs. Lytchett answered. "Are you going to let that -child go out like that, with no shoes on, and in that dress? Ah, -there!" - -[Illustration: "What a remarkable apartment!"] - -She had risen and approached the window, with the view of -intercepting Barbara's exit. But the baby was too quick. Hastily -wriggling down the steps, in a manner peculiarly her own, she -was seized upon on either hand by David and Sandy--apt at quick -evasions, as well as in seeing cause for them--and was striding -with huge strides across the lawn. Point lace and satin were of -no account with the Bethune boys, any more than were bare toes -and a hatless head. The girl-baby, all smiles to them, they found -delightful, no matter in what she might happen to be cased. - -[Illustration: His keen eyes took in all the details of the scene.] - -"That dress will be ruined," Mrs. Lytchett said tragically; and she -proceeded with energy to convey her opinions as to the dressing -of little children, as well as of their nurses. When she at last -withdrew to pay a visit on the Green, Mr. Pelham closed the big gate -behind her with a sigh of relief. - -"I daresay she is right," he thought. "But what unpleasant 'right.' -I will ask Mrs. Bethune." - -He felt always irresistibly drawn by the dark beauty of Mrs. -Bethune's eyes. No one could see the appeal in them without a pang. -Even amidst her merriment, their wistful beauty somewhat belied it. -Mr. Pelham found her helplessness and patience very pathetic. She -looked so young to be a prisoner--so young, too, to be the mother of -all those boys--whose noise was, however, curbed somewhat near her -sofa. - -When she had heard his errand, she said, "I thought you had come -for your little girl. She came down half an hour ago with my boys, -in a dress fit for a princess. I feared they had stolen her away. -We have ventured to take it off, and put her into one of the boy's -blouses. I really couldn't let her go and dig in such clothes. Yes," -in response to his look, "they are all in the garden. Go and see if -you like her in it, and then you shall have a pattern." - -Mr. Pelham, on emerging through the window into the garden, saw that -the "all" included also Mr. Warde. That gentleman had shown himself -disinclined to follow the Bishop's lead in being civil to the -newcomer. He had not yet called on him--though when they met they -were friendly in discussing mutual tastes. - -Mr. Warde was sitting with Marjorie under the beech tree on -the lawn, and Mr. Pelham was struck by the look of intimacy, -long-established, that the books and work scattered on the table -seemed to prove between them. He could not know that Mr. Warde -had joined Marjorie, after she had gone out to overlook the boys. -He only saw that they were sitting together in the summer shade, -talking in low voices--the man with a look on his face, and a -possession in his attitude, which could not be mistaken--the girl -with a wistful appeal shining in her dark eyes, which might well be -a response. - -A cold doubt fell on the beholder as he walked slowly towards them, -and his keen eyes took in all the details of the scene. He had -heard rumours--Charity had half-revealed the understanding between -them--but his heart had refused belief. - -Could it be that, after all, they were engaged? If so, he knew that -life--which, with its new possibilities, had lately become strangely -sweet--would again be a dark and careful problem. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII. - -BETWEEN TWO LOVERS. - - -Barbara had been exercising all her fascinations in beguiling Mr. -Warde. She was attired in one of Orme's blue smocks, in which her -small body was somewhat lost, but in which she was equally pretty as -when attired in her own daintinesses. Her nurse had fostered in her -a taste for dress, which so far prompted a desire for her father's -approval; but the male tuition she was now under promised soon to -qualify this taste. - -She had informed Mr. Warde of her importance in Orme's dress, and -received his sympathy, with pretty little pattings down of the blue -linen, until recalled to business by Sandy's whistle. - -"Bardedie go dig," she announced, showing all her white teeth in an -alluring smile, and trotting off to the cave side. - -Down below, the boys were strenuously repairing the ravages of the -thunderstorm, and all hands--and baskets--were in requisition. -The _rôle_ of highwayman, like that of ghost, having palled, they -were eager to begin the more important one of settler. David had -arranged the start for the next day, and they were excitedly making -preparations and collecting necessary stores. - -These included numerous and unlikely things. - -"Settlers have spades; we shan't want any, as ours isn't diggin' -ground," objected David to Sandy's list. - -"It's ridic'lus to go settling wivout spades," said Sandy. - -"Less to carry, and there'll be enough, and it isn't like straight, -even ground." - -"We must have a blanket. That can come off a bed. It's a mountain, -Dave, 'member--the top of a mountain. An' our fambly to get up an' -all. It'll be awfly hard," said Sandy, stopping for a moment in -his burrowings to mop his heated face. Just then Barbara danced -in, planting her feet in great delight in the damp mud Sandy had -excavated. - -"Me," she demanded, "me too. Barbedie dig"; and, seizing a basket, -she began to fill it, in keen emulation of Orme's business-like -labour. Orme was a most useful coadjutor in anything. When once -set to work, he always went on stolidly till he was told to stop, -or till material failed him. Nothing in the way of temptation, no -delight or allurement, could turn him aside. - -[Illustration: Marjorie lifted her head to meet his gaze.] - -Marjorie's tools, like his, were her two little fat hands, and these -were soon, to her delight, plastered with mud. - -"How shall we get her?" inquired David, pausing and looking at the -baby, working so ardently. "Must she come too?" - -"'Course she must," said Sandy. "We ain't got no other girl. 'Sides, -it ud be a shame to leave her out just when the fun begins. She'll -have to be fetched. We'll get her to tea." - -The boys' heads got together over schemes which grew more and more -ambitious, and by the time the passage was cleared of the _débris_ -and mud, and the little ones shunted back from discovery of its -exit, all details had been planned. - -Sandy, hearing voices, reconnoitred, with only his eyes above -ground, to find out whether friend or foe were with Marjorie. He was -delighted to see Barbara's father. Here was his opportunity. - -It was probably the dirtiest little boy in England who came -persuasively to Mr. Pelham's side, holding the transformed -Barbara--now almost equally dirty--by the hand. - -"Your baby likes our house," he said. "May she come to-morrow, and -stop to tea?" - -Barbara, gazing with delight at her unrecognisable hands, held them -up to her father's view; sufficient plea, she held these hands for a -repetition of delight. And when Ross and Orme ambled up alongside, -regarding him solemnly with their round blue eyes, awaiting his -verdict, he said "Yes." - -Sandy's remnant of conscience prompted him to say, "We'll bring her -back some time--honour bright. Don't want that nasty nurse prancing -'bout." - -"Hush, Sandy!" said Marjorie. - -"Don't," reiterated Sandy sturdily; "her skirts scrape an' -scratch--an' she screams if you do things sudden." - -"I hope it is quite safe," Marjorie said a little anxiously, as -Barbara was marched off to the nursery by all her swains, to be -cleaned, and reinstated in her satin gown. "Sandy doesn't quite -realise what a baby she is." - -"No harm could happen on the way down," Mr. Pelham said -thoughtfully, "and it is but a step from my gate to the Court. I -have watched how careful they are with her." - -Marjorie's solicitude for his baby prompted him to inquire, rising -unwillingly when that small person reappeared, "Are you dining at -the Deanery to-morrow?" - -"Yes," answered Marjorie. "Charity has some musical people coming -down from London--and you----" - -She paused, recollecting Charity's pretty air of possession when -mentioning Mr. Pelham and his singing. She had said, "Mr. Pelham -and I have been practising together a good deal--he sent for some -new songs from town. Our voices suit perfectly--there are very few -evenings, when we are disengaged, that he doesn't find his way down -the hill." - -She did not mention the warm and recurrent invitation of the Dean. -Nor could Marjorie realise the allurement of the pretty drawing-room -with its charming hostess to the lonely man. Possibly, neither would -she have believed that sometimes a visionary hope that he might find -her with her friend had been his lure. - -Marjorie's was a home to which he did not often like to venture -unasked. One evening, he had volunteered to be Charity's messenger; -and he had been struck by the aloofness and quiet of the little -scene into which he had been announced. - -The lamp, on the minor canon's table, shining white on the scattered -papers, lit up his scholarly face, as, busy with his writing and the -thoughts it brought, he turned a far-away gaze on the visitor. - -Another lamp, by Mrs. Bethune's sofa, shone on Marjorie's burnished -head, and lighted the fragile beauty of her mother. Both were -busy with needlework--the pretty smocks of the little boys. Mrs. -Bethune's slender hands rested whilst she welcomed and talked -to Mr. Pelham; but Marjorie's went on with their occupation. He -noticed, too, the open book which lay upon the table; the quiet -homeliness of this little scene, which yet Marjorie's rapidly moving -fingers made part of a more strenuous life than the one he had just -left; the work-a-day room in which were no luxuries, except the -little table of hothouse flowers, always kept fresh and fragrant -by Mrs. Bethune's many friends; and the bent, aloof figure of the -student--all gave the room a totally different atmosphere from the -luxurious apartment whence he had come. Its calm, and peace, and -withdrawal, struck Mr. Pelham with a sense of chill. He had no part -in it. Mother and child were enough for each other. Marjorie had -none of Charity's pretty restlessnesses and fusses for her visitor's -entertainment. As the conversation went on, she scarcely raised her -eyes. He talked to Mrs. Bethune, prolonging the conversation that -he might enjoy the quiet pose of Marjorie's slim figure, the pretty -curves of cheek and ear, and the moving swiftness of her fingers. - -Only now and then Marjorie lifted her head to meet his gaze, -with the wistful look now becoming habitual. For Mr. Warde's -steady wooing, although, according to his promise, unvoiced, was -sufficiently assiduous; and Marjorie was unconsciously making up -her mind to a future which she realised would be a great delight -to her parents. She was quite matter-of-fact about it. It did not -occur to her that she was of sufficient importance to revolt at such -a future. She did not once say to her mother, "It is my own life I -have to live. Why should I marry Mr. Warde if I don't love him?" She -put aside the fancies of a far different lover which, in moments of -unrest, or rare idleness, filled her day-dreams. - -"Life isn't a fairy tale," she settled with a sigh, at the -remembrance of an arresting look she could not banish. "He cares -for Charity. Everybody says so. How can I be so silly? And yet--and -yet----" - -"Could you not come up and see my house some day?" Mr. Pelham had -asked that evening, as he was leaving. "Oh!" as a sudden thought -struck him, "I have a carriage--scarcely ever used. I believe it -could be made as comfortable as your chair. Would it shake you too -much? And then," turning eagerly to Marjorie, "your mother could -drive every day it was fine. It would be a kindness to use it!" he -pleaded. - -Marjorie's face lit in response. "Mother does drive sometimes. Mr. -Warde----" and with angry dismay, the looker-on beheld the mounting -flush. "Oh, everybody is very kind in that way," she finished -hurriedly. - -"But come and see my house and pictures," he persisted, turning to -Mrs. Bethune. "Come to-morrow, and I will be at home to show you -them, and see that you are not tired." - -The visit had been duly paid and enjoyed, and plans for others made, -till it soon happened that, thanks also to the boys and Barbara, -scarcely a day passed without communication between the Canons' -Court and The Ridges. - -And so love, unconsciously fed and fostered, had grown apace. - - * * * * * - -There was a silence under the beech tree after Mr. Pelham's -departure, during which both Marjorie and Mr. Warde were busy with -their own thoughts. It was broken by Mr. Warde. - -"When is that engagement to be announced? Is it settled yet?" - -"What engagement?" - -"Pelham and your friend, Charity. I never drop in of an evening but -I find him there." - -"Perhaps he says the same about you," said Marjorie, a flash of -mischief in her eyes. - -Mr. Warde's speech had broken in upon a dreamy wonder, which -was making a song of joy in her heart, as to the meaning of Mr. -Pelham's lingering look as he had said good-bye. With a start of -recollection, and a pulling of herself together, Marjorie remembered -that she had known this man, on whose looks she was dwelling, just -six weeks. Six weeks! And this other man, sitting so near, with an -air of possession at which her whole heart rebelled--though she -quelled the expression she was longing to give way to--she had known -all her life! All her life he had been intimate--one of them--as -near almost as her father. And how good he had been to her, to them -all! How the household would miss the constant care--first for one, -then for another--which in so many ways he had evinced. Marjorie's -conscience smote her when she recalled his many kindnesses, accepted -as a matter of course, as between lifelong friends; kindnesses, as -she quickly remembered, entirely on one side. - -The recollection of her mother's pleading for him drew Marjorie's -eyes in mute questioning to his face. Would he feel very much if she -could not bring herself to care for him? He looked so comfortable, -and healthy, and prosperous. Surely it could not matter to him what -a girl might do? And then--he turned, and looked at her suddenly, to -meet the questioning in her eyes. A queer, rigid expression hardened -his mouth. For a moment he waited, as though preparing for a blow. -Then he stood up and looked down at her, shielding her by his action -from any lookers-on from the windows. - -"Well, Marjorie, you have something to say to me?" and she heard him -catch his breath, and pause to recover, before he added: "Say it -quickly, dear. Have you changed? Have you reconsidered?" - -"Mother----" stammered Marjorie, taken by surprise; "no, I haven't -changed, but----" - -"Yes," he encouraged; and he vaguely wondered that she was not -stunned by the loud beating of his heart. It had come at last, what -he longed for. It overmastered him. - -"Mother said--it is love." Her head was bent, and her voice was a -whisper, scarcely audible in the soft summer air; but the man heard. - -"And you--and you?" he breathed. - -Marjorie lifted her eyes, startled. This--what was it?--this -transforming emotion, shining in the eyes, usually so quiet? She -shrank back. - -"No, do not," she implored. "I do not know--I do not feel like that." - -She made as though to rise, and pushed him gently away. What had she -said? What had she done to cause such feeling? - -"Nay, Marjorie," he said, and he grew rigid again in self-control; -"tell me what was in your mind. I will not vex you--I will claim -nothing; only tell me--tell me," he entreated. - -Marjorie, looking into her memory, searched in vain for something -that would meet this demand. A vague memory of her mother's -words about marriage and Mr. Warde, mingled with the Duchess's -conversation at the Deanery; a recollection of the constant coupling -of Charity's name with that of Mr. Pelham; a tired feeling that -she had been worsted in a struggle, and could no longer fight; a -yearning for comfort in some undefined sorrow, to which she could -give no name--a sense of irrevocableness, of emptiness, of ineffable -longing. This is what Marjorie felt, and from which she turned, as -human nature will turn from a hurt to which experience can give no -cure. - -"I do not think--I do not know whether it is love," she said at -last. The man winced unconsciously at the icy aloofness of the -girlish voice. "But--if--you--care----" The words fell sighingly -from her lips. - -"If I care?" he repeated slowly, and his voice was as cold as hers -in the effort at repression; "if I care? Marjorie, I care so much -that to make you happy, to win your love, I would give my life. -My darling"--he paused--"how dear--how dear--I cannot make you -understand. You shall never regret--never!" - -He looked down for a second at the bowed white face, so unlike the -face of a happy girl hearing her lover tell that she is beloved, and -said softly: - -"You will like to be alone; I will go. Do not think of me in any -other way than as just your old friend, until--until you give it me -willingly. I will claim nothing more." - - - - -CHAPTER IX. - -MISSING! - - -"What's he been doin', Margie?" - -Ages had passed, so it seemed to Marjorie, since the departure of -Mr. Warde, when Sandy's question reached her ear. All the boys were -standing round, looking at her with inquisitive concern. Marjorie, -a limp heap, inattentive, unready to listen to them, was a new -experience. Ross and Orme had tender hearts, not yet hardened -by contact with an unsympathetic world. The latter had dug his -elbows into his sister's knees, and was looking up pitifully into -the far-away eyes that did not even yet see him. Conscious of the -blankness, Orme felt moved to whimper; Ross thumped with sturdy -fists the limp knees which, hitherto, for baby weaknesses had -provided firm support. - -"What's he been doin', Margie?" - -As the question reached her far-away consciousness, Marjorie came -back to reality with a sudden start. Mr. Warde had forgotten that -the boys were still in the garden, so occupied was he and so quiet -were they. But as the tea-hour approached, first one, then another, -finally all four pairs of eyes had been cautiously lifted above -ground to survey the situation. - -Something, perhaps, in Mr. Warde's appearance, some intuition of -unwonted agitation in the interview going on under their eyes, had -warned David against intrusion, and he had held Sandy back until the -visitor was gone. - -[Illustration: "Seems you're struck all of a heap, Margie!"] - -"Seems you're all struck of a heap, Margie," said David now. "Has he -been scolding?" - -"Not exactly," faltered Marjorie; she could not meet the inquiring -glances bent on her from all sides. She felt sore and shaken; and -the familiar faces brought back to her recollection the full meaning -of the interview through which she had just passed. What had she -done? what had she said? With a shock she realised that she had -agreed to become Mr. Warde's wife. Her whole soul shrank. - -"Ain't we goin' to have any tea?" Sandy inquired, his mind bent on -an opportunity for the acquisition of stores. - -"Is it tea-time?" - -"Bell went ever so long ago." - -"Didn't you hear it, Margie?" Ross inquired, much impressed at such -absent-mindedness. - -"No, Ross. Go in, all of you, and get clean," Marjorie ordered, -glancing from one to another, feeling less like a victim under -the eyes of her judges now that they too were in a position to be -criticised. - -"'Stead of eatin' much," Sandy had exhorted beforehand, "you've got -to save." - -If Marjorie had not been so occupied with her own perplexities, she -must have noticed, first, the ravenous appetite of the four; next, -the rapidity with which the bread-and-butter and cake disappeared. -All the pockets were bulging when Ross was deputed to say grace, but -the little boy's face looked very disconsolate indeed. Regardless of -Sandy's frowns, after struggling through the formula, in accents of -lingering unwillingness, he added-- - -"Ain't had a good tea--me hungry as hungry." - -"Me, too," said Orme hopefully. - -Marjorie glanced suspiciously round on the faces of her brothers, -and then at the empty board. Even so preoccupied as she was, she -could not but suspect that some means, other than natural ones, must -have been used to banish all that food. And when the same thing -happened the next afternoon also, when a more than usually varied -abundance graced the table in honour of Barbara's visit, she spoke. - -"I can't think," she was beginning to protest, when, to Sandy's -delighted relief, Mrs. Lytchett was announced as being in the -drawing-room, and asking specially for her. - -"Oh, dear!" sighed Marjorie, her mind travelling back to all her -misdemeanours. "What can it be? I hope not the cycling." - -But it was. There was an amused flash in her mother's eyes, while -Mrs. Lytchett's lips looked as though they were carved in stone, so -very determined was her aspect. - -"I hope it isn't true, Marjorie, what I hear?" she said in aggrieved -tones. - -"What is that?" asked Marjorie. - -"Three of those horrid bicycles passed me this afternoon close, -whirling by at a furious pace. I had been to the Deanery, to tell -Charity how sorry the Bishop was to miss her music. She wasn't in; -and passing the garden entrance--the garden entrance--ah, I see it -is true!" - -For Marjorie's aspect was unmistakable. It was one of guilt. She did -nothing, but sat down in a somewhat limp manner in the chair near -which she stood, and looked blankly at her inquisitor. - -"So I asked; I could scarcely believe my eyes. That young footman -was lounging near; I suppose he was waiting for the bicycles, -wasting his time. And he said you have all been riding a long time." - -"Not so very long," Marjorie answered in excusing accents. "Only -about a month." - -Mrs. Bethune laughed, though she looked at Marjorie anxiously. When -they were not too bitter, she enjoyed the humour of the encounters -between Mrs. Lytchett and Marjorie. Generally the latter showed -fight; but all that day she had been unusually quiet. - -"I thought you knew how much the Bishop and I hated the horrid -things." - -The tones were deeply reproachful. - -"I thought--he--had changed," Marjorie stammered. - -"No; he will never change, neither shall I"--in accents of -certainty. "The Bishop thinks them most unbecoming. How did you -learn? I hope that young footman----" She paused, unable to put into -words the suspicion she had conjured up. - -"We learnt--Mr. Pelham showed us--in the Deanery garden. It isn't -difficult." - -"I am sorry you didn't think more of your position in Norham before -setting such an example. And they cost so much!" - -"Mine was a present," murmured Marjorie, unwontedly gentle. - -"A present! From Mr. Pelham?" - -"It came with Charity's." - -"From the Dean. Oh! that is different." - -Marjorie's memory went back to the sunshiny afternoon under the -chestnuts at the Deanery, when the two new glittering machines--just -arrived from the maker--had been brought out to Charity's tea-table. - -"One for me!" she had exclaimed, reading the label in delight. "How -kind of the Dean!" - -But when she thanked the Dean, in pretty gratitude, a little later, -he had disclaimed the gift. - -"Who sent for it for me? Can it really be for me? Not Mr. Pelham, -surely?" (for it was he who, at the Dean's request, had ordered -Charity's). He, too, disowned being the giver. - -"But you know?" Marjorie asked. - -"Yes, I know. The giver is one who has every right to give you -pleasure." - -Something in his manner put her on the track, and she remembered -that the Bishop had been in the garden when the purchase had been -talked about. When she saw him next, he did not disavow her thanks. - -"I like to see you enjoying yourself, my dear," he answered in his -kind tones. "I thought how bright and happy you both looked the -other day. Only don't have any accidents." - -"I don't think it was the Dean," Marjorie's truthful nature prompted -her to answer now. "It was--the Bishop." - -"And I asked him not! I begged him not to carry out his intention. -Poor Norham!" with a sigh, "it has given in at last, and now you and -Charity have started, every girl in the place will follow. I blame -the Duchess." - -When the visitor had gone, Marjorie stood for a moment at the -window, anxiously watching Sandy speeding up the garden as fast as -his legs could carry him. - -"The boys have got some scheme on, I believe, mother," she said. -"Dave and Sandy have been full of mystery all day, and Ross is -pompous. I wish we weren't going to leave you alone to-night," she -said tenderly. - -"I like you to go with your father, dear--he will not stay for the -music, so I shall not be alone long. And now--I must expect to lose -you gradually, dear." - -"Oh, not yet." With passion Marjorie pushed the thought away. - -Many little hindrances occurred whilst she was dressing. One knock -preceded the entrance of Sandy, an unwonted visitor at such a time. -He looked eager and excited; but he stood fidgeting by Marjorie's -dressing-table, watching the arrangement of her hair, and did not -appear in any hurry to explain what he needed. - -"Is all girl's hair done like that? What a bover it must be," he -remarked after a little time. "I _should_ like that tiny, squinchy, -soft brush, Margie." - -"What for?" - -"To brush Barbie's hair. It's in a awfle mess." - -"Well, take it," said Marjorie kindly. "And it's time you took her -home. She goes to bed at seven, and you promised." - -"Yes, but"--objected Sandy eagerly--"not to-day. Mr. Pelham said she -might stay a bit longer. Is your bed or mine biggest, Margie?" - -"Mine. What a funny boy you are, Sandy." - -"Could I have a blanket off your bed, Margie? Nurse'll fuss ever so, -if I take ours--an' I can't poss'bly do wivout one." - -Marjorie's thoughts had passed away from her little brother and -his needs; and the absent assent she gave was enough for Sandy. He -dragged the blanket from the bed, and ran off, hugging it in his -arms. He found always that directness was his best aid. Not often -did Sandy beat about the bush. - -Marjorie went down, cloak and gloves in hand, a dainty, graceful -figure in her soft white dress. Her father was waiting for her, -sitting in unwonted idleness by her mother's sofa. - -Marjorie looked at them curiously as she crossed the floor, noting, -as she would not have noted another time, that her mother's hand was -clasped in her father's. Love, the love she had pledged herself to, -was theirs. They loved each other well, it was easy to see; though, -to Marjorie, it seemed impossible that her dignified father could -ever have told his love behind a door. - -Her aspect was stern, like that of a young judge, as she looked down -upon them now. Somehow, to her, love's outward features were no -longer fair. - -"You look very nice, Margie," her mother said softly, looking at the -tall, slim form, crowned by its cold pure face. "That dress is a -success. Look, father." - -Mr. Bethune turned his eyes upon his daughter, and smiled. - -"Yes," he said; "she looks sweet and clean. She is like you, -Alysson," his voice lingering and breaking, "in the old days." - -[Illustration: Anxiously watching Sandy speeding up the garden.] - -Marjorie heard, wondering. Alysson! How sweet the name sounded with -that caressing accent on its second syllable. This was the first -time she had ever heard her father call her mother thus. - -She walked beside him through the evening sunset, down the Canons' -Court, to the music of the cathedral chimes; her cloak cast round -her emphasising the youthful slenderness, which made her seem so -tall. Mr. Warde, from the Deanery steps, watched them approach, his -heart bounding with delight at her fairness. Only when they reached -the door, a thought occurred to Marjorie, and she turned to her -father in a little concern. - -"I saw nothing of the children. I quite forgot them. Did you see -them?" - -"Mother said"--it was work-a-day "mother" now, not the tenderly -breathed "Alysson"--"that they had gone off, she thought, with -Pelham's baby." - -[Illustration: The hasty, flying figure.] - -"Oh! I hope so," said Marjorie, with a little cold thrill of -prophetic fear. "How careless of me not to see! However, mother will -see that it is all right." - -Charity's London friends had been late in arriving, and dinner had -been put back a little to give them time to dress. It was about -half-finished, and the timepiece on the mantelshelf was chiming -half-past nine, when Marjorie saw a footman speaking to her father -at the other end of the table. - -Mr. Bethune asked a quick question or two, and then rose and slipped -away. - -Marjorie wondered for a moment, and then again grew interested in -her neighbour's talk. When Charity's signal drew the ladies into the -hall, she was detained a second by the enveloping skirt of one of -the ladies. - -A colloquy was going on at the hall door. The soft night air -streamed in, feeling cool and grateful to Marjorie's heated cheek. -As she lingered, she caught the hurried words in a familiar voice-- - -"Tell Mr. Pelham, please, immediate! Mr. Bethune is gone to the -police--but he is to go, and Miss Bethune, at once to Mrs. Bethune. -Poor lady, she is----" - -With a little cry, Marjorie was at the door. - -"What is it, nurse?" she asked breathlessly. "Barbara?" - -Almost with a note of triumph at the importance of her news, the -woman said, "Neither Miss Barbara nor any of the young gentlemen can -be found anywhere, miss. They have all clean disappeared. Oh, sir," -in accents of direful import, as Mr. Pelham reached Marjorie's side, -"Miss Barbara is lost!" - -Down the steps, waiting for no wrap, sped Marjorie; and the -twilight, now descending on the Canons' Court, closed her in. For a -second, through the dimness, Mr. Pelham saw the hasty, flying figure -in its soft white robe, and caught a glimpse of her face. It was a -vision that burnt itself on his memory. - -Mr. Warde leapt with him down the wide steps. - -"We shall soon find her, never fear," he said kindly--he had only -heard the end of nurse's message. "I will call my servants, and be -with you directly." - - [END OF CHAPTER NINE.] - - - - -PROSPECT AND RETROSPECT. - -By the Rev. George Matheson, M.A., D.D., F.R.S.E., St. Bernard's, -Edinburgh. - - "But many of the priests and Levites and chief of the fathers, - who were ancient men, that had seen the first house, when the - foundation of this house was laid before their eyes, wept with - a loud voice; and many shouted aloud for joy."--EZRA iii. 12. - - -One of the finest and most poetic touches of human nature occurs in -the most prosaic book of the Bible--the Book of Ezra. It is like a -single well-spring in a dry, parched land, like one lingering leaf -of autumn in the heart of winter. It is found at that scene where -the foundation of the new Temple is laid. The passage thus records -the mingled feelings of the spectators: "But many of the priests and -Levites and chief of the fathers, who were ancient men, that had -seen the first house, when the foundation of this house was laid -before their eyes, wept with a loud voice; and many shouted aloud -for joy." - -The passage is suggestive for all time. We see it repeated at the -opening of every January. Nay, it is not limited to inauguration -days; it recurs wherever youth and age are found side by side. At -the presentation of every new thing there are two attitudes among -the crowd--the young shout and the old weep. They are looking -through two different glasses--hope and memory. Neither of them is -worshipping in the building in which they stand. Youth sees the -house gilded by the rays of to-morrow; age beholds it overshadowed -by the light of yesterday. Youth claps its hands over its coming -possibilities; age says, "It is nothing to what used to be in the -old days." Youth disparages the first temple, and says the new is -better; age exclaims with the Scottish poetess:-- - - "There ne'er shall be a new house - Can seem so fair to me." - -You will observe that in neither of these cases is the attitude -pessimistic. Both see roses; both are agreed that a happy time is -somewhere; but they differ as to where the roses lie. Youth sees -them at the end; age beholds them at the beginning. The one has -placed its Garden of Eden in the future; the other has planted it in -the past. Both are optimists; but they seek their goal by opposite -ways. Youth is for advance; it cries with a loud voice, "Speak to -the children of Israel, that they go forward." Age is for retreat, -for regress toward a former day; it would say with the ancient poet, -"Return unto thy rest, O my soul." - -Which is right? Neither. Both are one-sided; each ignores something -in the other. Let us begin with youth--the tendency to disparage the -past, to set hope against memory. It forgets something--that hope -is itself an inheritance of the past. Why does youth clap its hands -previous to experience? It is because the young man has got in his -blood the experience of past generations, and the result has been on -the side of happiness rather than of misery. If the result had been -on the side of misery, youth would not have hoped; it would have -despaired. Instinct is the fruit of past habit; instinctive hope -must come from long prosperity. Christianity itself has propagated -from sire to son an inheritance of hope; Christ in us becomes the -hope of glory. Paul declares that the highest ground for hope is to -be found in the past: "He that spared not His own Son, shall He not -with Him also freely give us all things?" He means that nothing in -the future need be too much to expect after this exhibition of love -in the past. The handing down of such a thought is alone sufficient -to create sunshine. It causes the average child in a Christian -population to be born an optimist--to come into the world with an -expectation of blue sky, and to dream of a good for which he has no -warrant in personal experience. - -But if youth is one-sided in disparaging the past, age is also so -in disparaging the future, in dwelling on the past exclusively. -The old man tends to say that the former days were better than -these. If he could get back to these former days, he would make a -discovery. He would find that, in point of fact, there was not one -of them which was not lit by to-morrow's sky. Take the boy's game. -To one looking back through the years, it seems to have been a pure -enjoyment of the hour; in truth, it was never so. What the boy saw -was more than the game of play; it was the game of life. To him the -game was an allegory: it represented something beyond itself--the -chances of the world. That which made him glad in his success, that -which made him sad in his defeat, was not mainly the fact but the -omen. The game was to him rather a sign of the future than an event -of the hour. Or take the girl's doll. Was that purely a pleasure -of the hour? Nay; the hour had very little to do with it. She was -living in a world of imagination--a world to come. The doll to her -represented motherhood. She had already in fancy a house of her -own. She reigned; she administered; she managed; she had put away -childish things. There are no moments so speculative as our real -moments; no sphere is so full of to-morrow as what we call the -events of the hour. - -But, although each view separately is one-sided, there is an extreme -beauty in their union. It is one of the finest laws of Providence -that youth should see the end at the beginning, and that age should -see the beginning at the end. Let us glance at each in turn. Let us -begin with youth. And let us remember what is the problem before -youth: it is, how to advance. Now, I have no hesitation in saying -that nothing causes us to advance but a vision of the future. -Paradoxical as it may sound, if there is to be progress, the end -must get behind the beginning and push it on. No other vision will -impel us forward. The past will not. I do not think the effect -even of _bright_ memories is stimulating; they tend rather to make -us fold the hands. The present will not. How short is the effect -of any actual joy! If a windfall comes to you, you contemplate it -perhaps for a few moments exclusively; presently you say, "What -will my friend think when he hears of it?" The thing itself is not -sufficient. It cannot bear the weight even of five minutes. It is -incapable of self-sustenance. It would die at its birth if it were -not supported by to-morrow. - -Therefore it is that God leads on the youth of individuals and -communities, not by a sight of their environment, but by a vision -of the end. He shows them the end without perspective--without -the years between. He knows that by nature the child ignores all -between--that in the presence of any coming joy he cries, "Not -to-morrow, nor to-morrow, nor to-morrow, but the next day." And so -our Father has always begun by showing us the next day. He came -to Abraham and said, "Get thee out of thy country, and I will -make of thee a great nation." He did not tell him that Egypt and -the desert and the Jordan lay between. If He had, his steps would -have been paralysed on the threshold. Did you ever ask yourself -what is the earliest revealed doctrine of the New Testament? Is it -justification, sanctification, effectual calling, the perseverance -of the saints? No, it is none of these: it is the second coming of -Christ--the completed glory of redeeming love. When Paul sat down -to write his first epistle to the Thessalonians--the earliest book -of the New Testament--he began at the end. He let the world hear -the final bells ringing across the snow. He concealed the snow; -he veiled the intervening years; he said, "To-morrow." He did not -tell that a Red Sea of trouble and a desert of visionless waiting -lay between. And he was right. Men heard only the bells, and the -bells lured them on. They helped them to tread the snow; they nerved -them to cross the sea. They sustained them to meet the desert. They -sounded nearer than they were; they rang ever the one refrain, -"Christ is coming"; and the persistent strain of to-morrow hid the -jarring of the passing day. - -But if it is benevolent that youth should see the end at the -beginning, it is no less a bounteous provision that age should -see the beginning at the end. "Say not that the former days were -better than these" is a counsel wise and true. But it is none the -less wise and true that to the eye of the old man the past ought -to be _glorified_. It ought to be glorified because it _needs_ to -be glorified. The past never got justice while it was passing. -Childhood ignored it; youth disparaged it. The hour laid gems at -our feet which we did not see, or which, seeing, we despised. We -kept asking when Elias would come; and Elias had come already. To -us, as to Moses, the hand of God was laid over the face while God -was passing by; we did not discern the actual blessings of the day. -Are we never to discern them here below? Must we go hence without -seeing the world in which we dwell? Shall we be sent forth to gaze -on things unseen before we have looked at the objects which have -been actually in our hands? God says "No." He says the past must -be righted, righted on the earth, righted _by_ the earth. He has -appointed a day even here in which each man shall judge the world in -which he has dwelt--in which he shall reverse his former judgment. -The crooked shall be seen straight, the rough places shall appear -plain, the glory of the Lord, which was veiled in passing, shall be -recognised in retrospect; and the end will pronounce the beginning -to have been indeed very good. - -Therefore it is that the eyes of the aged men rest more on the old -house than on the new. The old is to them really a new house. They -have seen it for the first time. They did not see it when they were -living in it; their eyes were then on the _coming_ temple, and the -voice of the present God spoke to them unheard. Therefore, on the -quiet road to Emmaus--the road of life's silent afternoon--God shows -them the disappearing form of yesterday; and, like Jacob, they -exclaim in deep surprise, "Surely the Lord was in this place, and we -knew it not; this was none other than the house of God." - -And this explains something which otherwise I could not understand. -In the Book of Revelation the host of the redeemed in heaven are -represented as singing two songs--the song of Moses and the song of -the Lamb. Why two? The song of Moses I can readily understand; it is -the triumph of the _future_--the shout over the coming emancipation. -But why sing the song of the Lamb? Why chant a pæan over the -sacrifices of yesterday? Why allow the dark memories of the past to -dim the glory of the approaching day? Is there not something which -jars upon the ear in the union of two anthems such as these? - -[Illustration: THE REV. DR. MATHESON. - -(_Photo: J. Horsburgh and Son, Edinburgh._)] - -No; there would be something jarring without it. All other heavens -but that of the Bible sing the song of Moses alone; they ask nothing -more than to be free from the pain of yesterday. The heaven of -Christ would be content with no such aspiration. It deems it not -enough to promise the joys of to-morrow--the golden streets, and the -pearly gates, and the luscious fruits of an unfading summer's bloom. -It seeks to connect the future with the past, to show that in some -sense the glory had its birth in the gloom. It would reveal to us -that the golden streets have arisen from our desert, that the pearly -gates have opened from our brick walls, that the luscious fruits -have sprung from the very ground which we used to deem barren. It -would tell us that the crown has been made from the materials of -our cross, that the day has come out of our dusk, and that we have -climbed the heights of Olivet by ascending the steps of Calvary. - -And is not the heaven of Christ true in this to human nature? What -you and I are seeking is not merely nor even mainly emancipation. -That would be something, but not all; I want a justification of -my past bonds. It is not enough to be able to say "I am all right -_now_." Have I not wasted time? Are there not years which the -locusts have eaten? Might not this emancipation have come sooner? -Why should I not always have been free? Is it any vindication of -God's dealings with Job that at the end he gets back houses and -brethren and lands? No; that is a mere appendage to the story. -The patriarch wants to learn, and _we_ want to learn, why he was -afflicted at all. We are not satisfied merely because the grey is -followed by the gold. We wish to know that the grey has _made_ the -gold. The song of Moses may tell how the peace came _after_ the -storm; but the song of the Lamb alone can say, "God answered Job -_out of_ the whirlwind." - -Our future, then, like our present, must be a blending of memory and -hope. The stones of the heavenly temple must be stones that have -been hewn in the quarry of time; otherwise they will _not_ sparkle -in the sun. The marriage supper of the Lamb is a union of to-morrow -and yesterday; no other bells will ring Christ in for me. Grace is -not enough; it must be justifying grace--grace that vindicates my -past. In vain shall I walk by the crystal river, in vain shall I -stand upon the glassy sea, if the light upon each be only the sun of -to-morrow. My sea must be "glass mingled with _fire_"--calm that has -been evolved by tempest, rest that has grown out of struggle, beauty -that has shaped itself through seeming anarchy, joy that has been -born of tears. To-morrow morning and yesterday evening must form -together one day--a day in which the imperfections of the old house -will explain the symmetry of the new, and in which the symmetry of -the new will compensate for the short-comings of the old. So shall -the first and second temple receive a common glory, and memory and -hope shall be joined for evermore. - -[Illustration: signature] - - - - -"NOT TOO LATE." - -By the late Rev. Gordon Calthrop, M.A. - - - The cords were knotted round me fast, - I writhed and plucked them as I lay; - But Sin too well her net had cast-- - I could not tear myself away. - Then hissed a voice, "Give up the strife; - Too late thou seek'st to change thy life." - Another spake--"Make God thy Friend, - And then 't is not too late to mend." - - But I had scorned the proffered love, - And bidden Heav'n's angels from me flee; - How could I think that Heaven would move - To stretch a helping hand to me? - So hissed the voice, "Give up thy hope: - Some paths to hell _must_ downward slope." - The other said, "God is thy Friend; - Why should it be too late to mend?" - - The time was bitter. Ah! how oft - I almost dashed aside the cup! - But Hope her banner waved aloft, - And God's great Son still held me up. - And if the voice hissed, "Thou art long - In conqu'ring foes so old and strong," - The other cried, "With God thy Friend - It cannot be too late to mend." - - And when the bitter day was done, - And forth the demons howling fled, - I went to strengthen many a one - Whom, like me, Sin had captive led: - I told them, though a voice of fear - Might speak of ruin in their ear, - Another said, "God is thy Friend, - It cannot be too late to mend." - - - - -AN AMERICAN BOY-EDITOR - -AND HIS "BAREFOOT MISSION." - -By Elizabeth L. Banks. - -[Illustration: TELLO J. D'APERY AT THE AGE OF TWELVE. - -(_Photo: Eisenmann, New York._)] - - -"_The Sunny Hour_--A Monthly Magazine for Boys and Girls. Published -and Edited by Tello d'Apery, a Boy twelve years old." - -This was the inscription which appeared on the title-page of a -new periodical which made its appearance in New York a few years -ago. Editors of important daily and weekly newspapers, finding -the pretty brown-covered magazine on their desks along with more -ambitious-looking first numbers of other periodicals, stopped in the -midst of their work to glance over the result of a twelve-year-old -editor's work. Accustomed as they were to reading and hearing -of prodigies in America, the land of prodigies, they were yet -surprised at the enterprise, not to say the audacity, of the young -boy who essayed to put himself before the public as the editor and -proprietor of a magazine. - -"The commercial instincts of the American nation show themselves in -its very infants!" they reflected amusedly. "A few years hence that -twelve-year-old, grown to be a man, is likely to make Wall Street -hum." - -Commercial instincts! Well, yes, perhaps, but of an order more -likely to bring about results in the neighbourhood of Baxter Street -and the other poverty-stricken haunts of the lowly East Side than -among the brown-stone business palaces of Wall Street. - -Turning to the first "leader" written by the young editor on his -editorial page, the literary critics were told in childish language -why so small a specimen of humanity had dared to venture into the -world of letters. - -"I am twelve years old," ran the leading article, "so I hope all the -public will excuse any mistakes I make in my paper. I am publishing -it to earn money to buy new boots and shoes and get old ones mended -for poor boys and girls in New York who have to go barefooted. -That's what I'm going to do with all the profits. I want to make -enough money to rent a house where I can have my offices and lots of -room for a Barefoot Mission, where the boys and girls in New York -can come and get boots for nothing. I hope the public will buy my -paper, which is a dollar a year and ten cents for single copies." - - How to Manage Fathers and Mothers. - - BY THE EDITOR. - - I have had a father and mother twelve years, and I am said to - manage them pretty well, and I am going to tell all boys and - girls just how I do it, and it would do no harm for them to try - the same plan and see how it works in their cases. - - FACSIMILE OF AN EXTRACT FROM NO. 1 OF "THE SUNNY HOUR." - -So it happened that when the important editors of New York and other -large cities read the leading article in the first copy of _The -Sunny Hour_, there was a kindness and gentleness in their tones as -they threw the little periodical over to the "exchange editors," -saying, "Here, this little thing isn't a bad idea at all! Be sure -you notice it in your reviews." - -I doubt if any other new paper ever published received from its -contemporaries such kind and encouraging "press notices" as did _The -Sunny Hour_, and when it appeared upon the stalls for sale the -newsdealers sold a great many copies. - -[Illustration: OFFICE OF "THE SUNNY HOUR."] - -When the first number of his magazine was off his hands, little -Tello began to think of ways and means for insuring its success -and getting as much money as he could for his Barefoot Mission. He -decided that he must have patrons, and so with his own hands he -folded up and addressed copies of his paper to many great people of -whom he had heard. One of the papers went to the Queen of England, -and along with it was posted a letter to her Majesty telling her all -about his paper and his mission and asking her to let her name go -first on his list of patrons. What mattered it to the Queen that she -was simply addressed as "Dear Queen" by the little American boy who -wanted her for his patron! In the reply which she sent through Sir -Henry Ponsonby, she told him of her interest in his noble work and -gladly became his first patron. - -Letters and papers were also sent to the Empress of Russia, the -Queen-Regent of Spain, Queen Olga of Greece, Queen Elizabeth of -Roumania, the Khedive, and numerous other royalties, all of whom -wrote to him and became his patrons and subscribers. The great -Church dignitaries of America, Europe, and Asia, wrote charming -letters to the boy-editor, subscribing for his paper and saying that -they would like to be considered patrons of _The Sunny Hour_ Mission. - -After the first number of the magazine appeared, the list of -contributors became a very notable one indeed. The Queen of Roumania -(Carmen Sylva) wrote several autograph poems for it, and sent an -autographed photograph for publication. The Prince of Montenegro, -Prince Albert of Monaco, Prince Roland Bonaparte, Osman Pasha (Grand -Master of Ceremonies to the Sultan), Pierre Loti, Sir Edwin Arnold, -Mr. Justin McCarthy, Sully-Prudhomme, the Rev. Edward Everett Hale, -Marion Harland, and many other literary celebrities, had articles, -stories, and poems in _The Sunny Hour_, for which they asked no -reward, except the knowledge that they were helping to sell the -paper and thus putting shoes on little bare feet. - -[Illustration: WAITING OUTSIDE THE MISSION-HOUSE.] - -With the money that came in from the subscriptions and -advertisements for the paper, a building on Twenty-fourth Street -was rented as an editorial and mission house. It was fitted up in -the most practical way possible, with a play-room for the very -little "Barefoots," a library for the older ones, a reception-room -for "Barefoots," a storeroom for boots and shoes, and the editorial -and publishing offices of _The Sunny Hour_. Though the help of -grown-up people was always gladly received, only little folks were -employed about the headquarters of the boy-editor and missionary. -His assistant editor was a boy of his own age, Jack Bristol, whose -happy face and manner gained for him the title of "Jolly Jack." -Three small boys, friends of the editor, were the type-setters and -printers. They had a small steam press on which they printed the -magazine. Florencia Lewis, a young girl, acted as secretary and -general manager. - -I must not forget to mention another very important employee of the -mission, who acted as carrier and distributer of boots and shoes to -the little "Barefoots." He also was of very tender years--or rather -I should say months, for Prince Roland Bonaparte, the St. Bernard -puppy, though very much larger than many of the children who took -the shoes he carried to them in his mouth, was only a few months -old when the mission was started. "Prince," as he was called for -short, was (and is) one of the most indefatigable and enthusiastic -supporters of the Barefoot Mission in New York. As a puppy he always -had a place of honour in the reception-room where the barefooted -children went to make their requests. By the time he was four months -old "Prince" learned to tell a "Barefoot" on sight, so that, as soon -as a poor little shivering tot made its appearance, the puppy would -wag his tail and gravely trot into the storeroom, procure a pair of -boots, and, returning, lay them at the bare feet of the applicant. -It must be confessed that "Prince's" sagacity, great though it was, -did not always enable him to select just the right-sized boot for -the would-be wearer. There were also a few occasions, during his -initiation into his new duties, when he disgraced himself by chewing -up one shoe while the "Barefoot" was putting on the other, but he -has outgrown these puppyish proclivities. He now weighs one hundred -and seventy-five pounds, and is one of the finest and most useful -St. Bernards in New York. When out walking with his young master, -he always stops in front of any shops where boots and shoes are -displayed in the windows, and with a worldly-wise look in his eyes -and numerous wags of his huge tail seems to be trying to calculate -in his mind just how many applicants at the Barefoot Mission could -have their feet shod if the shopkeepers did their duty. It takes all -Tello's powers of coaxing and persuasion to keep him from entering -the shop and carrying off by force (in his mouth) some of the wares -displayed for sale. - -[Illustration: THE FIRST CHRISTMAS TREE FOR SEVEN HUNDRED CHILDREN.] - -Not all, perhaps only a very few, new enterprises in the literary -world are able to meet all their expenses and show a profit during -the first year of their existence, but the twelve-year-old boy's -enterprise was able to do this. Beside meeting all his expenses, -he had at the end of the first year been able to distribute 760 -pairs of shoes to the poor children of New York. Not all of these -were new. Some were old ones mended by Tello's special shoemaker -in such a way as to make them almost as good as new in the matter -of usefulness, if not in appearance. Then people began to send in -stockings (some new, some old), dresses, boys' suits, underwear, old -playthings, etc., until the Barefoot Mission became indeed a blessed -place to the poor of New York. When Christmas came, the boy-editor -provided a great Christmas tree and festival, where not only boots -and shoes and clothing were distributed to the needy, but turkeys -and ham, and cakes and "candies" were given out, to the great -delight of the 700 children who attended it. Here is one of the many -pathetic little letters the young editor received just before one of -the Christmas festivals. It was published at the time in _The Sunny -Hour_:-- - - "DEAR MR. TELLO,--Me and my little sister and the baby can't - have no crismus this year 'cause our father is dying and granma - is sick with perelisis and our little bruther died two weeks ago - and the city had to bury him. Mother is not working 'cause the - baby is too little--there's ten of us all counted. So if you - have any crismus won't you let us come, for we all haven't got - clothes to keep us warm nor shoes, and no coal except what my - big brother picks up--nothing to eat hardly. Yours respecfully." - -Childish letters of appeal similar to the above have been coming -in ever since the mission was started, and they have acted as a -continual spur to the young missionary. The distributions increased -until one day 3,032 pairs of shoes and stockings were given out, and -about 2,000 flannel garments as well. - -[Illustration: GOLD MEDAL PRESENTED TO THE BOY-EDITOR BY THE -PATRIARCH OF ALEXANDRIA. - -(_Of which there are only five in existence._)] - -Meanwhile _The Sunny Hour_ magazine increased in interest and -circulation. The list of eminent contributors and patrons became -larger every month. Very busy men and women, for the product of -whose pens the editors of the best periodicals were willing to pay -liberally, sent in gratis to _The Sunny Hour_ stories and poems to -be edited by a little boy. - -[Illustration: TELLO J. D'APERY AT PRESENT TIME. - -(_Photo: D. Garber, New York._) (_Showing the Medals and Orders -presented to him by European and Asiatic Sovereigns._)] - -When the mission and the magazine had been running for about three -years Tello d'Apery's health broke down from overwork, and through -the kindness of a friend he made a trip round the world, leaving -his paper and mission in the care of "Jolly Jack," the assistant -editor. The boy carried copies of his little paper along with him, -his object being to interest everyone he met in his work, and -this object was attained to such an extent that on his return he -numbered among his subscribers nearly every Oriental potentate. He -was received in audience by the Sultan and the Khedive. The latter -was especially kind to him, delegating one of his sons to show him -about Cairo, and became so interested in the Barefoot Mission that -he contributed one hundred dollars towards it. It was during his -visit to Egypt that Tello d'Apery became distinguished as the only -American boy who has ever been decorated by a foreign potentate. The -Khedive conferred upon him the Order of the Medjidieh, which carried -with it the title of Bey. Other orders, medals, and titles have been -showered upon the young American. He is a Chevalier of the Order -of Bolivar, conferred upon him by the President of Colombia. The -Order of Umberto was also conferred upon him in Italy. He is also a -Chevalier of the Order of St. Katherine, and another order gives him -the title of "Don." He has received in all eighteen decorations and -medals, and it is by special request that he has had his portrait -taken with a number of his decorations fastened to his coat. In -writing to me recently concerning this portrait, he says: "Of -course, being an all-round and patriotic American boy, I could not -use a title, and care only for my decorations because of the good -friends who gave them to me and the interest that they show has been -taken in my work by great people abroad." - - With this issue I present the initial - number of THE SUNNY HOUR, modestly, as becomes so young an - editor, but hopefully, because I mean to try and make it worthy - of a place in every home where there are children. - - If I find as much encouragement in my subscription list and - advertising patronage, as I hope, I shall enlarge my paper every - three months, and add new features. In any case it has come to - stay one year. - - I shall devote my paper to such literature as mothers will - approve, and there will be no Indian Scalping, nor pistols, nor - any such thing. I shall always uphold the cause of temperance - and morality and so shall not touch upon politics, and it shall - be my earnest endeavor to deserve well of the public. - - If my paper ever falls below expectations, please remember that - I am only twelve years old.--THE EDITOR. - - _____________ - - SPECIAL NOTICE. - - All paying subscribers, who desire it, are entitled to a cabinet - photograph of the editor, with his autograph. This is not done - from vanity, but because he thought perhaps some persons might - like to see what the youngest editor and publisher in the world - looks like. - - FROM NO. 1 OF "THE SUNNY HOUR." - -When Tello returned from his travels, much improved in health, his -boy friends took a notion to call him "Chevalier d'Apery," but on -pain of his sore displeasure the title was dropped, he declaring -that it was not for publication but only as an evidence of good -faith on the part of his decorators. A medal that he very highly -prizes is a gold one given him by the venerable Patriarch of -Alexandria, Sophronius, who had it struck when he had been fifty -years in office. There are only four others like Tello's in the -world. The Patriarch presented one to Tello, one to the Queen of -Greece, one to the late Queen of Denmark, and one to the Empress -Dowager of Russia. Sophronius is now one hundred and six years old, -and is one of Tello's most devoted friends, writing frequent letters -to him in Apostolic Greek. - -Many also are the presents Tello d'Apery has received from noted -people. Don Carlos of Spain, the Queen of Greece, and many other -royalties, have sent him tokens of their interest and esteem, -so that, besides his medals and decorations, he has a number of -interesting and valuable scarf-pins, rings, etc. While in Athens -the Queen of Greece entertained him at the palace, and begged him -to make her a member of _The Sunny Hour_ Mission Club, which he -did by himself pinning at her throat the pretty little badge of -the Order of _The Sunny Hour_, the Queen repeating after him the -promise made by all those who join the Club: "I promise to give one -hour each week to some good action. I will be kind to my parents, -to my brothers and sisters, to the poor and the unfortunate, and to -animals." - -These _Sunny Hour_ Mission Clubs are auxiliaries of _The Sunny Hour_ -and Barefoot Mission, and have been formed in different parts of -the world. There is one in Paris, which has been very prosperous, -and there has also been one in London. There are a number of little -persons belonging to royal families who wear the badge of _The Sunny -Hour_. Among them are the little Lady Alexandra Duff, and the tiny -Prince Boris of Bulgaria. - -After his return from abroad Tello d'Apery published an account -of his experiences in a book called "Europe Seen through a Boy's -Eyes," all the profits of which went to buy shoes for the barefooted -children of New York. He also, in order to get more money for his -work, started a little book and stationery shop, spending a part -of his time there behind the counter and a part of it behind his -editorial desk. Recently his health has again failed, and he has -been obliged to lessen some of his arduous labours. He is now trying -to establish a mammoth boot- and shoe-mending shop of his own, -where old foot-gear may be repaired at less expense than it is now. -When this object is accomplished, some of the "Barefoots" themselves -will learn the cobbler's trade and work in the establishment, thus -helping others while helping themselves. - -The idea is to rent a building, or at least a part of a building, -for the purpose, and issue circulars to the residents of New York -and vicinity, asking them to send their old boots and shoes to the -building, or, better still, to have a horse and cart go about from -house to house to collect them. Then two or three expert cobblers -will be hired for a few months to mend them and to take a certain -number of apprentices from among the "Barefoots" and teach them the -trade of cobbling. Only such boys as show a liking and aptitude for -the work will, of course, be chosen as apprentices. They will spend -the whole day or only a few hours a day at the work, as their other -duties permit. Not only will they be taught to mend boots--they -will also be taught to make them. When they have learned their -trade they will receive the same wages as other workmen are paid. -Of course, when _The Sunny Hour_ "Barefoots" (or, rather, those who -have been "Barefoots" in times gone by) become expert shoemakers, -there is no reason why they should confine their efforts to making -and mending boots for the New York poor alone. Tello d'Apery hopes -that many orders for men's and women's and children's footgear will -be received from well-to-do New Yorkers, so that not only will the -expenses of the establishment be met, but an extra amount of money -taken in for the mission. It is a magnificent scheme, and we can but -hope that this noble American boy may be able to carry it out. - -[Illustration: THE PLAYROOM IN "THE SUNNY HOUR" MISSION BUILDING.] - - - - -LITTLE LADY WILMERTON. - -[Illustration: LITTLE LADY WILMERTON] - -By the Rev. P. B. Power, M.A., Author of "The Oiled Feather," Etc. - - -Hard by the village of Hopedale, away from railways and their -whistles, and indeed pretty nearly from the world in general, was a -very beautiful castle, surrounded by pleasure grounds, and gardens -for both fruit and flowers. - -The place had been well kept up, because old Lord Wilmerton, the -grandfather of the little lady of whom I am going to tell you, was a -proud man; and he would not have it said that any of his properties -were allowed to go to ruin, or even to run wild. But the old Lord -himself never went there nor did his son, the father of the present -little Lady Wilmerton. The place was too dull for them; they liked -the gaieties of London and the Continent, and the country had no -charms for them. - -Little Lady Wilmerton's father and grandfather were now both dead. -Her father died first, and her grandfather soon followed him to the -grave. And now our little lady was a Countess, for in her family the -title did not die out with the males, but, when there were no sons, -passed on to the daughters, if there were any. And as with the title -went most of the estates, the little Countess, who was only twelve -years old, became the mistress of Hopedale Castle, and the village -and, indeed, the country for, I might almost say, many miles round. - -The last thing that anyone in Hopedale would have ever thought of -was her little ladyship's coming to live at the Castle. Great, -therefore, was the astonishment of everyone when they heard that she -was to live there for a large part of the year--and, moreover, that -she was coming almost at once. - -At first the report was treated as an idle rumour, but when a -carriage arrived one day at the Castle with an elderly gentleman and -a much younger man, and a second carriage with a lady and her maid, -there could be no doubt that something was about to take place. -Moreover, the agent had been summoned to meet this old gentleman, -and he and the new arrivals were known to have gone all over the -Castle. This gentleman was the little Countess's guardian, and the -younger man was his solicitor; and the lady was a distant relative -of the little Countess, and was to be her caretaker--for her mother -had been dead now three years. - -Such a possibility as the Castle being inhabited could not take -place without causing much talk in the village. Old and young had -their say about it--some of the old, I am sorry to say, at the -"Green Dragon," the village ale-house; and some at their cottage -doors, or when they met in the street. - -The children too had their ideas and speculations--very different, -of course, from the older people's, but very decided, nevertheless. - -As to the folk at the "Green Dragon," some were for the lady's -coming and some were not, and each party were positive. - -"I tell you," said old Joe Crupper, the saddler, "there ain't no -good a-comin' out of this. We've got on very well hereabouts for -many a year, without having anyone to worrit us from that place. Why -can't they let it be as it has been so long? It don't want anyone to -live in it to keep it warm. Why, I'm told that they've burnt thirty -ton of coal in a winter to keep the place aired. We don't want no -great people down here in these parts; we can get on well enough by -ourselves. I didn't never know any good come of the haristockracy," -said the saddler, giving the table a thump. - -"But I'm told," chimed in a meek little man, who frequented the -"Green Dragon" more for gossip than for drink, "that the new 'lord' -is a little lady, and is only twelve years old." - -"Joseph Simmons," said the saddler, looking witheringly into the -little man's face, "you are a man of edication, and ought to know -better. As to the little 'lord' being a lady, I ask you and all -the company"--here the saddler looked round--"what difference does -that make? Isn't a goose a goose, whether it's a goose or a gander? -Would you say, when 'tis roasted, 'Who'll take a bit of gander?' -No, goose or gander, 'tis a goose. In like manner, it don't matter -whether 'tis a boy or girl, a man or a woman"--and here the saddler -paused, evidently seeking for a further variety in sex, which he -could not find--"excuse me," said he, looking deprecatingly round, -"if I stop for a moment, for the argument is deep, and one's liable -to get tangled a bit--a man or a woman. Yes, the argument is plain, -and I defy you, Joseph Simmons, to beat it. A haristocrat is a -haristocrat, whether it be man or woman, boy or girl." - -"I humbly beg pardon if I've given any offence," said the meek -little man. "You were once in London for a day, and you ought to -know more than I do." - -[Illustration: "All the haristockracy wear gold crowns," said -Dolly.--_p. 276._] - -"Ah, you're now coming to your senses," said the saddler. "I always -knew that you were a sensible man; the best of us forget ourselves -at times, as you did just now. You just mind what I say: no good -will come of this haristocrat." And as the saddler led most of the -company by the nose, they all went away with a terrible prejudice -against the little Countess. - -The children, too, had their ideas and their talks. They had heard -that the new "lord" was a lady, and that she was only twelve years -old. - -This was a puzzle to them, and no effort of their mental powers -enabled them to understand it; but they could--each according to -their own cast of mind--have their ideas on the subject, and talk of -and debate about them amongst themselves. - -And so it came to pass that they, as well as their elders at the -Green "Dragon," had their argument about the newcomer. - -We often form our ideas of people out of our own fancies; and we are -very often wrong, and I would recommend all young people not to be -in too great a hurry in forming their opinion about others, until -they have something to go on. - -In the present instance Dolly Strap, who hated lessons, and whose -one desire was to run wild, said she "was sure that the little -haristocrat that was coming" (for the saddler's word had got all -over the village) "was a girl who never learned any lessons, who -never did and never would be obliged to; who was allowed to jump -over hedges and ditches, and never got whacked for tearing her -frock. Look here!" said Dolly, exhibiting a long rent in her frock; -"that means smackers to-night, girls, at eight o'clock; and as like -as not there will be smackers to-morrow night too. And haristocrats -jump over hedges and ditches, and tear their frocks to pieces every -day, and they only gets new ones for their pains, and never a smack -get they; and if the day was wet, and they couldn't get out of doors -to tear them, then you may be sure they does it somehow indoors, -leaping over chairs, or somehow. You know," said Dolly, with a -leer in her eye, "when you want to do a thing, you can always do -it--somehow." - -"I don't know about dress," said Martha Furblow; "but you may be -sure she's dressed very grand--lots of feathers and flowers in her -hat, and plenty of lace and beads all over her." - -"And she has dozens of dolls, you may be sure," said Mary Mater. -"I've heard say that there are dolls that say 'Papa' and 'Mamma,' -and that open their eyes and shuts 'em too, and winks when they -wants to look knowin'. She'll have some that asks you how you are, -and says, 'Very well, thank ye, and how are you?'" - -"Ah," said Jenny Giblet, "and her sweets--do you think of them? -Hard-bake every morning for breakfast, and ginger-pop, and bottles -of peardrops, and boxes of peppermints--she don't go in for -pennorths, not she." - -"And a gold crown--only not quite so grand as the Queen's," said -Dolly. "All the haristockracy wear gold crowns when they go to see -the Queen, and on Sundays when they go to church." - -Thus the village children settled amongst themselves all about the -little Countess, and the outcome of it all was that, as she was so -much better off than they, she was to be disliked, and when she -came into the village--if, indeed, she ever did--they were to turn -up their noses at her, just as they made sure she would turn up her -nose at them. - -There was one, however, amongst the group who ventured to put in a -word for the poor little Countess--this was Patience Filbert--whom, -in spite of themselves, everyone liked, for Patience was good to -all. The child was a little younger than the Countess. She had long -fair hair, and round grey eyes which seemed to open wide when she -talked to you and looked you, as she often did, so honestly, so -wonderingly, so lovingly in the face. - -Patience ventured to say that, perhaps the little Countess might be -very nice, and if she was born a countess that was not her fault; -but poor Patience was told that she was a silly little thing. - -"Yes, yes," said Dolly Strap; "you was hatched out a little goose, -and you'll be a little goose until you die. Now you go and give your -Bullie his dinner; you sat up with him half the night, and I hope he -won't die." - -"Yes," they all said, "we hope he won't die," for they all liked -Patience--as, indeed, who could help doing?--and they knew that her -bullfinch was her great pleasure in life. - -Poor Bullie! he was indeed ill, drawing near his end. He no longer -sang when Patience sang, nor hopped from his cage to eat out of her -mouth. He had fulfilled his mission in life, by making the delicate -child happy in what would have been many lonely hours, for she could -seldom play with other girls; and now in his death Bullie was about -to play a greater part than he had ever done in his life. - -Bullie lingered two or three days, during which time he had three -warm baths and apoplectic fits, to the last of which he succumbed, -and, turning himself on his back and throwing his legs up into the -air, he departed this life. As Bullie had nothing to leave--at -least, so far as he knew--he died without a will, though in reality -he left a good deal, which was divided amongst all the inhabitants -of Hopedale, making them ever so much richer than they had been -before. - -And it all came about in this way. - -When Bullie died, it was determined amongst the children that he -should have a public funeral. Patience Filbert would have liked -to bury him just by herself; but two considerations induced her -to let her little neighbours have their way. There was first the -kindly feeling shown to herself, and then there was the honour done -to Bullie. And so Bullie was carried to his burial; his body was -wrapped in a clean pocket-handkerchief, and his coffin was an old -cigar box with wadding and sweet herbs inside. There was a long -avenue of trees leading up to the Castle gate, beneath a particular -one of which it was decided the body should be buried. Here it was -interred. - -There was one more at the funeral than was expected. The little -Countess was there. She had seen the small procession as she was out -for her morning walk, and followed respectfully at a little distance -all the way. Moreover, she was at the ceremony of interment, only -standing a little way behind the rest. - -The child was dressed in a simple holland frock, with a black ribbon -round her waist, and another round her plain straw hat. Her servant -was so far behind that she seemed to be quite by herself. - -[Illustration: She put her arm round Patience's neck.] - -The funeral over, the little Countess came forward, and the tears -came into her eyes when she saw how the chief mourner cried, for -poor Patience Filbert was very sad; and although she was a countess, -she put her arm round Patience's neck, and wiped away her tears. - -Who was she? - -"Lady," said Dolly Strap, who was rather rude, "what's your name?" - -"They call me 'the Countess,'" said the child, "but my name is Mary. -Should you all like to come up to the garden? There is plenty of -fruit." - -And they went, wondering that a countess could be so plainly -dressed, and so feeling, and so kind. - -Our feelings in this life are very mingled--joy and sorrow, -sorrow and joy. So was it in this case. For the funeral party (now -replenished with gooseberries) returned with a new Bullie in a gilt -cage; it was the little Countess's own pet which she gave Patience -to make up her loss. - -The little Countess's treatment of Patience--her sympathy, the tears -which came into her eyes when she saw another's distress--knocked -the bottom out of all the saddler's arguments against the -"haristockracy," and the little man cock-a-doodle-doo'd over him -tremendously at the "Green Dragon." And every door in Hopedale was -open at once to the little Countess, and every child in the place -was ready to put his hand to his hat or curtsey to her. One kind -act of real sympathy had opened all hearts to her; and who knows -how much prejudice against us will be done away with, and how many -hearts will be opened to us, even by one act of sympathy and love? - - - - -Heavenly Cheer. - - _Words by_ THOMAS KELLY, 1806. H. WALFORD DAVIES, MUS.D. - (_Organist of the Temple Church._) - - - 1. On the mountain-top appearing, - Lo! the sacred herald stands, - Welcome news to Zion bearing-- - Zion long in hostile lands: - Mourning captive! - God Himself will loose thy bands. - - 2. Has thy night been long and mournful? - Have thy friends unfaithful proved? - Have thy foes been proud and scornful, - By thy sighs and tears unmoved? - Cease thy mourning! - Zion still is well-beloved. - - 3. God, thy God, will now restore thee; - God Himself appears thy Friend! - All thy foes shall flee before thee-- - Here their boasts and triumphs end: - Great deliverance - Zion's King vouchsafes to send. - - Amen. - - - - -TEMPERANCE NOTES AND NEWS. - -By a Leading Temperance Advocate. - -A HAPPY NEW YEAR. - - -The good old wish which we offer to all our readers points its own -moral. There was great practical sagacity in Joseph Livesey's method -of arranging to send a temperance tract to every family in Preston -on New Year's Day. Christian men and women, who are in sympathy with -the efforts of those who are fighting against our national vice, -would give a great lift to the work by starting the New Year as -total abstainers themselves. As New Year's Day falls on a Sunday, -we trust the clergy and ministers will "remember not to forget" to -drop a word for temperance in their Watch Night and New Year's Day -sermons. - -[Illustration: DR. MACDOWELL COSGRAVE. - -(_President of the Dublin T.A.S._)] - - -A DISTINGUISHED RECORD. - -[Illustration: MR. T. WILLSON FAIR - -(_Photo: Glover, Dublin._)] - -[Illustration: THE DUBLIN COFFEE PALACE. - -(_With large public hall in rear._)] - -For upwards of sixty-two years the Dublin Total Abstinence Society -has perseveringly held on its way, a record not surpassed by any -temperance association in the sister country. When one remembers -the "storm and stress" through which Ireland has passed during -this eventful period, the fact that this ancient society still -survives is a tribute to the enthusiastic labours of its executive -officers of which they may well be proud. The old-fashioned method -of "signing the pledge" is still kept in the forefront at all the -meetings of the society. It rejoices in a coffee palace with a -commodious public hall, in the very heart of the city of Dublin, -and from year's end to year's end there is one attractive round of -lectures, entertainments, clubs, and popular festivities, variously -adapted to meet the requirements of the young and old alike. It -was at a meeting under the auspices of this association that the -late Sir Benjamin Ward Richardson, F.R.S., made the memorable -deliverance: "The sale of drink is the sale of disease; the sale -of drink is the sale of poverty; the sale of drink is the sale of -insanity; the sale of drink is the sale of crime; the sale of drink -is the sale of death." The president of the society is a well-known -Dublin physician, Dr. E. MacDowell Cosgrave, and the hon. secretary -is Mr. Thomas Willson Fair, whose devotion to the cause has made his -name a household word in Irish temperance circles. - - -THE "DICTIONARY" BRIDE. - -It will be remembered that last month we mentioned that under the -word "abstaining" in the new dictionary, Dr. Murray quoted from the -"Clerical Testimony to Total Abstinence," published in 1867, in -which the present Bishop of Carlisle stated that a certain "bride -was the daughter of an abstaining clergyman." Who was she? Well, -first of all, let us clear the way by saying that Dr. Bardsley, in -his testimony, cited the case of his own family. He said he was -the eldest of seven sons, who were brought up as total abstainers -by total abstaining parents. He then added, "To some readers who, -upon occasions of family festivities, have been perplexed by -their abstaining principles, it may not be uninteresting to learn -that when, recently, one of the seven entered the happy estate of -matrimony, the bride was the daughter of an abstaining clergyman. -Here, then, was a difficulty. Should the wedding-day be regarded as -an exception, and a little laxity allowed? The question was decided -in the negative, and, notwithstanding the little protests as to -'such a thing never having been heard of before,' and the fear as to -what that mythical personage Mrs. Grundy would say, the wedding was -conducted on total abstinence principles. Amongst the good things of -God provided, the spirits of evil were _wanting--but not wanted_, -for the general remark was 'How little they are missed!'" We ask -again, "Who was the bride?" In view of Dr. Bardsley's reference to -the _mythical_ Mrs. Grundy, our reply looks just a trifle piquant, -for the bride was a Miss Grundy, the daughter of the Rev. George -Docker Grundy, M.A., then (and still) Vicar of Hey, near Oldham. -We tender our hearty congratulations to this grand old churchman, -who graduated in honours at Brasenose College, Oxford, in 1828, was -ordained in 1830, and entered upon his present benefice more than -sixty years ago! - - -THE CHILDREN'S FOUNTAIN. - -In the Temple Gardens, on the Victoria Embankment, there is a -beautiful drinking-fountain, the work of Mr. George E. Wade. It -is an exact facsimile of one executed by the same artist for -the World's Women's Christian Temperance Union and erected in -a prominent position in the city of Chicago. The funds for the -purchase of the London fountain were mainly collected by children -of the Loyal Temperance Legions, in response to an appeal from -Lady Henry Somerset. At the unveiling ceremony, which took place -in May, 1897, her Ladyship presented the fountain to the London -County Council, and Miss Hilda Muff, who, of all the children, had -collected the largest sum, had the honourable privilege of declaring -the fountain free to all. - -[Illustration: THE CHILDREN'S FOUNTAIN, VICTORIA EMBANKMENT. - -(_Photo: Cassell and Co., Ltd._)] - - -COMING EVENTS. - -The friends in Norwich are organising a Sunday Closing -Demonstration, to be held in the historic St. Andrew's Hall, on -January 24th. The annual business meeting of the London Temperance -Council will take place on January 27th. Temperance Sunday for the -diocese of Liverpool has been fixed for January 29th, and Bishop -Ryle has issued a letter to all his clergy urging the due observance -of the day. The annual New Year's Soirée of the United Kingdom -Band of Hope Union has been fixed for January 30th, and the annual -meetings of the same institution will be held in Exeter Hall on -May 10th. The seventh International Congress against the Abuse of -Spirituous Drinks will be held in Paris from April 4th to 9th. - - - - -[Illustration: SCRIPTURE LESSONS FOR SCHOOL AND HOME - -INTERNATIONAL SERIES] - -SCRIPTURE LESSONS FOR SCHOOL AND HOME - -INTERNATIONAL SERIES - -With Illustrative Anecdotes and References. - - -=JANUARY 15TH.--Christ's First Miracle.= - -_To read--St. John ii. 1-11. Golden Text--Ver. 2._ - -Last lesson told of disciples coming to Christ one by one. John the -Baptist pointed to Him as Lamb of God--the sin-bearer. Andrew and -John, hearing this, followed Christ. Andrew brought his brother -Simon. Christ bade Philip follow Him, and he brought his friend -Nathanael. Now Christ works miracle which confirms faith of all. - -I. =The Need= (1-5). Third day after call of Nathanael. Cana, his -home, near Nazareth, sixty miles from Bethabara (i. 28). A wedding -party. Mary, mother of Jesus, evidently a family friend. Christ and -His five new disciples among the guests. Supplies ran short, perhaps -from poverty or from larger number of guests than expected. Painful -position of bridegroom, giver of feast. Mary notices, tells Christ, -receives answer, "What is that to Me and thee?" He is best judge of -right time for help. She knows His loving heart, is sure He will do -something; therefore bids servants obey Christ's orders. - -II. =The Supply= (6-11). Waterpots ready, but empty. Been used for -washing before meals (St. Mark vii. 3). Christ orders them to be -filled--twenty gallons each. Governor of feast tastes first. Finds -it excellent wine--such as usually put on table at beginning of -feast--commends bridegroom for it. What was the result? - -Satisfaction to Mary, who knew her Divine Son. - -Faith strengthened in the new disciples of Christ. - -Glory to Jesus of Nazareth, the Son of God. - -III. =Lessons.= 1. _About wine._ God's gift (Ps. civ. 15), to be -used sparingly--a little (1 Tim. v. 23). - -2. _About Christ._ How was His glory manifested? By -sympathy--sharing home-life--its joys and sorrows. Believing wants -of His people. - -3. _About ourselves._ The benefit of such a Friend (Ps. cxliv. 15). -Difference between this world's blessings and those of Christ. -This world's come first--health, riches, fame, etc. Christ's come -last--glory, honour, immortality. Which are best? Then seek those -things which are above (Col. iii. 1). - - -=God's Bounty.= - - On a cold winter's day a poor woman stood at the window of - a King's greenhouse looking at a cluster of grapes which - she longed to have for her sick child. She went home to her - spinning-wheel, earned half a crown, and offered it to the - gardener for the grapes. He ordered her away. She returned home, - took the blanket from her bed, sold it for five shillings, and - offered this sum to the gardener. He repelled her with anger. - The Princess, overhearing the conversation and seeing the - woman's tears, said to her, "You have made a mistake, my good - woman. My father is a king; he does not sell, but gives." So - saying she plucked a bunch of the best grapes and placed them in - the happy woman's hands. - - -=JANUARY 22ND.--Christ and Nicodemus.= - -_To read--St. John iii, 1-17. Golden Text--Ver. 16._ - -Christ now in Jerusalem. Probably in retirement because Jews -hostile. Picture Him with His new disciples in house in a back -street on a windy night (ver. 8). A knock at the door. A Rabbi, -member of the Sanhedrim (vii. 50), enters cautiously; he seeks to -know more of this new teaching. - -I. =Regeneration of Man= (1-8). _The inquiry._ Nicodemus, a searcher -after truth, comes to Christ the new Teacher, whom he acknowledges -as sent from God, as testified by His miracles. What must he do? - -_The answer._ He must have a new birth, _i.e._ be changed into a -spiritual state--be concerned with inner things of God. This change -only wrought by work of Holy Spirit on soul, of which washing by -water, as in baptism, is outward sign. How does the Spirit work? -_Invisibly_--seen in effects, as wind on water. _Irresistibly_, its -power being divine--as at Pentecost 3,000 converted (Acts ii. 41). -But man's will must co-operate. - -II. =Lifting up of Christ= (9-15). _Effects of new birth._ The -regenerate see the truth revealed desired long (St. Luke x. 24), and -bear witness to others--as new converts after Stephen's death (Acts -viii. 4). - -_Subject of the new teaching._ Christ Himself, His Person, Son of -Man--the Perfect Man. His dwelling-place, heaven; not by ascending -there, but as being His own eternal home. - -_Christ's lifting up._ On a cross--a sacrifice for sin, giving -eternal life to those who believe, of which brazen serpent was a -type (Num. xxi. 9). - -III. =Love of the Father= (16, 17). How shown? He gave, sent, spared -not His Son (Rom. viii. 32). Why shown? That man may not die, but -live eternally. - -=Lesson.= 1. The new birth. Am I changed? - -2. Christ lifted up for me. Am I saved? - -3. God's love. What am I giving in return? - - -=A Great Change.= - - Queen Victoria once paid a visit to a paper-mill. Among other - things she saw men picking out rags from the refuse of the - city, and was told that these rags would make the finest white - paper. After a few days her Majesty received a packet of the - most delicate white paper, having the Queen's likeness for the - water-mark, with the intimation that it was made from the dirty - rags she had noticed. So our lives, renewed by God's Spirit, can - be transformed and bear His likeness. - - -=JANUARY 29TH.--Christ at Jacob's Well.= - -_To read--St. John iv. 5-15. Golden Text--Ver. 14._ - -Christ leaves Jerusalem, travels north with His disciples, passes -through Samaria, reaches Sychar, near Shechem. Rests at Jacob's well -while disciples buy food in neighbouring town. - -I. =The Story= (5-9). _Time._ Noon by Hebrew reckoning, or 6 p.m. by -Roman time. - -_Place._ Jacob's well. Bought by him (Gen. xxxiii. 19), burial-place -of Joseph (Josh. xxiv. 32). - -_Persons._ Jesus and the woman. He wearied, but, ever ready to do -His Father's work, opens conversation. Uses the water, thirst, -spring, as illustrations of spiritual truths. He asks her for water. -She is surprised, because of national hostility. - -II. =The Water of Life= (10-15). Christ tells of His power to give -living water. She thinks He means deep spring water, and asks how it -is to be obtained. He then explains His meaning: water--commonest -and simplest of all liquids--emblem of gifts and graces of Holy -Spirit. - -_Its source._ Gift of God alone. Offered freely to all (Isa. lv. 1). - -_Its necessity._ If any have not God's Spirit, they are not His -(Rom. viii. 9). - -_Its nature._ Pure--from God's throne (Rev. xxii. 1). -Refreshing--joy of salvation (Ps. li. 12). Healing (Rev. xxii. 2). -Satisfying (Isa. lxi. 1). Unfailing--wells of salvation (Isa. xii. -3). - -_Its results._ Everlasting life. - -III. =Lesson.= Drink of this living water which Christ offers to-day. - - -=Living Water.= - - The fountain of living waters is God Himself. It is not a mere - cistern to hold a little water; it is a running, living stream, - and a fountain that springs up perpetually. Now a fountain is - produced by the pressure of water coming down from a height, and - never rises higher than its source. Our spiritual life has its - source in heaven. It came from God, and to God it will return. - - -=FEBRUARY 5TH.--The Nobleman's Son Healed.= - -_To read--St. John iv. 43-54. Golden Text--Ver. 53._ - -Christ has passed through Samaria, returned to Cana. Now works first -miracle of healing. - -I. =Faith Beginning= (43-47). _The father._ A courtier of Herod -Antipas, King of Galilee. In trouble because of son's sickness. -Hears of Jesus and His wonderful doings--will see if He can help -him. Leaves his home to go and meet Jesus. Urgently entreats Him to -come from Cana down to Capernaum on the Lake of Galilee to visit and -relieve his dying son. - -II. =Faith Increasing= (48-50). Christ seems to hesitate--makes a -difficulty. He wants strong faith. He sees father desires external -signs, personal visit. Christ must have implicit faith. What does -Christ do? Does not comply with the request nor refuse, but calmly -tells him his son lives. The man believes, and returns home. - -=III. Faith Perfected= (51-54). Met by his servants on way back. -They had noted the change for the better in the boy, hastened to -meet the father and tell the good news. What does he ask? The -time exactly agreed. So the father knew that Christ was more than -man--that He was Lord of life and death--the true Son of God. No -more doubts. - -=Lessons.= 1. Trouble leads to prayer and prayer to blessings. - -2. Belief in Christ brings peace and happiness. - -3. He is the same Lord to all them that believe. - - -=Freemen of the Gospel.= - - An old man once said that it took him forty years to learn three - simple things. The first was that he could not do anything to - save himself; the second was that God did not expect him to; and - the third was that Christ had done it all, and all he had to do - was to believe and be saved. - - -=FEBRUARY 12TH.--Christ's Divine Authority.= - -_To read--St. John v. 17--27. Golden Text--John iv. 42._ - -Christ has returned to Jerusalem to keep one of appointed feasts -(ver. 1). There He healed a cripple at the Pool of Bethesda on the -Sabbath, which caused the Jews to persecute Him for "breaking" or -relaxing the Sabbath day. Christ answers them. - -I. =The Father's Work= (17, 18). God is Creator of world and Father -of all. The Sabbath not a time for inaction. Does everything stop? -Earth continues to revolve, winds blow, vegetation grows. Sabbath a -rest for man from work by which livelihood gained, but also a day to -be spent in works of mercy. Thus Christ works on with the Father. -His claim to be equal with God angers the Jews. - -II. =The Son's Work= (19-23). Same as the Father's--does nothing by -Himself. He shares the Father's counsels--loving bond of sympathy -between them. Shares Father's work--giving life to dead (i. 4). -Christ already done this when raised Jairus's little daughter (St. -Matt. ix. 25). Also raised dead souls by forgiving sins and leading -to new life. Example--sick of the palsy (St. Matt. ix. 2) and the -woman who had sinned (St. Luke vii. 37, 47). - -Christ also appointed as the Judge (Acts xvii. 31). Therefore -equally with Father claims honour from men. To dishonour Him is to -dishonour God. - -III. =Man's Relation to Christ= (24-27). How can he obtain this new -life? Must hear and accept Son's word, must believe the Father, Who -speaks through the Son (xvii. 3; Heb i. 2). Then he passes from -death in sin (Eph. ii. 1) to life in Christ (Col. iii. 3). This a -present change. Old things passed--all become new. New faith, hope, -love. New life for soul now, for body hereafter. - -=Lessons.= 1. It is lawful to do good on the Sabbath. - -2. If any man be in Christ, he is a new creature. - - -=Full Salvation.= - - Those who trust Christ do not trust Him to save only for a year - or two, but for ever. In going a long journey it is best to - take a ticket all the way through. Take your ticket for the New - Jerusalem, and not for a half-way house. The train will never - break down, and the track never be torn up. Trust Jesus Christ - to carry you through to glory, and He will do it.--REV. C. H. - SPURGEON. - - - - -[Illustration: SHORT ARROWS - -Notes of Christian Life & Work.] - -SHORT ARROWS - -Notes of Christian Life & Work. - - -"The Finding of the Saviour in the Temple." - -In response to the request of many of our readers, we give the -following account of this great picture, a special reproduction -of which (in colours and suitable for framing) was presented with -our November number. With the idea of the picture in his mind, Mr. -Holman Hunt went, in 1854, to Jerusalem to obtain local colour and -models for the work. "Truth to Nature" being the principle of his -art, he desired to get as near as possible to the probable aspect -of the scene he was attempting to depict. The Temple he had to -construct for himself, and this he did after studying Eastern, and -especially ancient Jewish, architecture, the only part painted -from an actual fact being the marble pavement. This he copied from -the floor of the Mosque of Omar, which, according to tradition, is -the only remaining portion of Herod's Temple. He experienced great -difficulty in getting models for his figures, owing to the suspicion -having arisen that he was a Christian missionary in disguise. By -the end of eighteen months, however, he had painted in all the -adult figures from actual models, and, returning to England, he -managed, by the help of Mr. Mocatta, to get a boy from the Jewish -community in the East-End of London to sit for the figure of Christ. -Every detail of the picture has a symbolic interest. The rabbi -on the left, clasping in his arms the _Torah_ or sacred roll of -the Law, is blind and decrepit, and the other rabbis, with their -phylacteries and scrolls, are all characteristic of the proud, -self-righteous, sects to which they belonged. Joseph carries his own -and Mary's shoes over his shoulders--even in their haste they had -remembered the injunction to remove them when entering the house -of the Lord--and Mary is clad in robes of grey and white, with a -girdle fringed with orange-red, the colours of purity and sorrow. -Christ wears a _kaftan_, striped with purple and blue, the colours -of the royal house of David. He is pulling the buckle of the belt -tighter--"girding up His loins"--and in spite of the "Wist ye not -that I must be about My Father's business?" has one foot advanced -in readiness to go with His earthly parents. Through the doorway -the builders are still at work; they are hoisting into position the -block which is to be "the chief corner-stone of the building." - -[Illustration: BLIND PETER AND HIS BRIDE. - -(_Photo: T. F. McFarlane, Crieff._)] - -[Illustration: St. Paul's Bennett St. Sunday School, Manchester -Quiver Medalists March 1^{st.} 1898. ] - - -Blind Peter and his Bride. - -In spite of his blindness, Peter was a very happy man. A young -girl, brought up in the American Presbyterian School in Pekin, -emphatically declared that he was the best, the cleverest, and -the best-looking of six candidates for her hand. She enjoyed the -unheard-of privilege of choosing her husband, and, as her relations -approved the selection, settlements were at once arranged. Her hair -was cut in a fringe, which in China marks an engaged maiden; the -contract was drawn up on a sheet of lucky scarlet paper, and Peter -undertook to make a regular allowance to his mother-in-law. Neither -the bride nor Peter's relations ever had occasion to regret their -decision. He was one of the earliest pupils in the School for the -Blind established in Pekin in 1879. As a boy of twelve years old, he -was led to the door by his brother aged fourteen. They were orphans, -and on their first begging tour, and the elder said that he could -support himself by work, but could not gain sufficient food for two -without begging. The blind boy was admitted, and he quickly gained a -high character. Within two years he was the ablest and best teacher -of the blind in Pekin, and he had knowledge and influence which -might be the means of bringing light and understanding to untold -numbers groping in darkness of mind and body. It is calculated -that the blind in China number at least 500,000, and they have -the character of being amongst the most depraved of beggars. Miss -Gordon-Cumming tells the story of blind Peter in her new book, "The -Inventor of the Numeral Type for China." The Chinese Dictionary -contains from 30,000 to 40,000 characters. It is true that to read -a book so sublimely simple as the Bible it is sufficient to learn -4,000; but the length of this task deters the majority of people -from the attempt. Mr. W. H. Murray found it possible to reduce the -distinct tones of Mandarin Chinese (used in four-fifths of the -Empire) to 408, and to represent them in numerals, embossed in dots -according to Braille's system. Miss Gordon-Cumming devotes several -pages to explaining the invention and the means by which it has been -carried into good effect. The result is that blind men and women -have not only been raised from demoralised beggary, but have become -teachers of others afflicted like themselves, and in some cases of -the sighted illiterate or deaf and dumb. - - -A Notable Group. - -In the course of our last volume we had occasion to refer several -times to the remarkable Sunday-school in Manchester which contains -no less than forty-five teachers, all of whom have served for over -twenty years as active officers of the school. This discovery -was made in connection with our Roll of Honour for Sunday-school -Workers, and each of the forty-five was awarded THE QUIVER medal. -These teachers have since associated themselves in a photographic -group, the result of which we reproduce on the opposite page. It -forms an interesting and unique memento of an interesting and unique -school. - - -A Quiver Hero. - -The latest addition to the Roll of Quiver Heroes and Heroines is -Captain James Hood, of the London tug _Simla_, who, on October -17th last, was by his self-sacrificing courage and presence of -mind instrumental in saving twelve members of the crew of the -_Blengfell_ off Margate. The circumstances attending the conspicuous -act of Captain Hood are probably still fresh in the minds of -all our readers, and it is only necessary to recall that on the -day in question his tug was in attendance on the naphtha ship -_Blengfell_, when the latter vessel was suddenly rent in two by -a terrific explosion, which resulted in the sudden death of the -captain of the doomed ship, his wife and child, and six other -persons. Hood immediately saw that the only way to save the men left -on the wreck and those struggling in the sea was to steam right -alongside the burning ship, there being no time to lower boats. -This he courageously did in the face of several minor explosions, -and knowing full well that at any moment the remaining barrels of -naphtha might ignite and blow his vessel to pieces. Fortunately he -was successful in rescuing the survivors, and was able to steam -away in safety from the burning ship. Our readers will undoubtedly -endorse our opinion that Captain Hood has nobly earned the Silver -Medal of THE QUIVER Heroes Fund, which it has been our pleasure to -hand to him. - -[Illustration: CAPTAIN HOOD. (_The latest Quiver Hero._) - -(_Photo: W. Bartier, Poplar, E._)] - - -Unusual Diffidence. - -An able public man known to the writer was asked the other day to -speak at a conference upon one of the subjects to be debated. He -replied that he could not do so, as he did not know much about the -question and had not time to study it in all its bearings. How much -shorter and more profitable would speeches and sermons be if those -who deliver them were as conscientious as our friend! But "fools -rush in where angels fear to tread," and speak loud and long out of -the abundance of their ignorance. When a man has only one idea, has -seen only one side of a thing, knows only a limited number of words, -and is in possession of good lungs, there is no reason why he should -ever stop speaking. - - -Distributing Mansion House Money. - -Four great famines in India have marked the reign of Queen -Victoria--each more widespread than the last, but each successively -occasioning less loss of life. It was in the famine of 1868-69 -that Lord Lawrence initiated, as a working principle for the -Administration, a sense of personal responsibility for every life -lost. In the last, that of 1896-97, the scarcity extended from -the Punjab to Cape Comorin, but the skill in checking starvation -was greater than in the preceding one of 1877, and the number of -sufferers relieved exceeded three millions. Whilst many of India's -sons gazed up at the cloudless sky with the calm desperation of -fatalists, the Government and missionaries fought side by side to -repel hunger and death. England subscribed £550,000 through the -Mansion House Relief Fund alone. The scourge fell most heavily on -the Central Provinces, and the paternal Government had not only to -deal with present necessity, but to provide for the future. Our -illustration is copied from a photograph of a scene in Central -India. An English Government servant sits at a table covered with -money from the Mansion House Fund, and he is granting fifteen rupees -to a cultivator for seed rice. A crowd of applicants for similar -relief surround him. - -[Illustration: DISTRIBUTING MANSION HOUSE MONEY IN INDIA. - -(_Photo: Rev. A. Logsdail_)] - - -For Old and Young. - -By a curious coincidence two of the various works which call for -notice this month are by present contributors to our own pages, and -two are by future contributors. It is unnecessary to deal with the -former at length--even if space permitted--and it is sufficient -to state that Dr. Joseph Parker's second volume of his series of -"Studies in Texts" (Horace Marshall and Son) is as full of pregnant -and forceful thoughts as its predecessor; whilst in "Love to the -Uttermost" (Morgan and Scott) our old friend, the Rev. F. B. Meyer, -has tenderly and reverently expounded the principal incidents and -texts contained in the latter portion of the Gospel of the disciple -"whom Jesus loved."--From Mr. Elliott Stock comes a small volume -of "Addresses to all Sorts and Conditions of Men," which have been -delivered at various times and in various places by Archdeacon -Madden, who is well known as an earnest and gifted preacher to -young men, and we can but hope that these outspoken truths may, -in their more permanent form, be the means of much lasting good. -We hope shortly to introduce Archdeacon Madden more directly to -our readers by means of our own pages, and also Dr. R. F. Horton, -who is responsible for "The Commandments of Jesus," which has just -reached us from Messrs. Isbister. It should be emphasised at once -that the book does not deal with the commandments given to Moses, -but with the commandments delivered by our Lord whilst on earth. Dr. -Horton claims that a careful study of these will prove that they -form "a sufficient, authoritative, and exact rule of life" at the -present day, and he has ably upheld and explained what he so happily -terms "the eternal code of Jesus."--To turn from theological -to lighter works, we are pleased to draw attention to Mr. S. H. -Hamer's "Whys and Other Whys" (Cassell and Co.), which would form -an admirable present for little people. The author tells a number -of humorous stories of "Curious Creatures and their Tales," which -will amuse and delight the children, whilst the many quaint and -clever illustrations by Mr. Neilson combine to make this one of the -best gift-books of the season.--For the little ones and also to -"children of a larger growth" we can heartily commend Mrs. Orman -Cooper's life of "John Bunyan, the Glorious Dreamer" (Sunday School -Union), which is written from an extensive knowledge of the subject -(gained principally from many years' residence in Bedford), and is -also copiously illustrated.--We have also to acknowledge the receipt -of "Rabbi Sanderson" (Hodder and Stoughton) by Ian Maclaren, which -forms a companion to his former short story, "A Doctor of the Old -School," though we feel it is not so brilliant as the latter; of -"Neil Macleod" (same publishers), an interesting and well-written -story of literary life in London; and also of "Silver Tongues" -(Morgan and Scott), which consists of a series of talks to the -young by the Rev. John Mitchell, based on simple objects of common -knowledge, such as a leaf, a thimble, flowers, etc., and enriched by -many appropriate lessons. - - -Four Anchors from the Stern. - -These anchors, our Revised Version tells us, the sailors "let go" -on St. Paul's disastrous voyage towards Rome, "fearing lest haply -we should be cast ashore on rocky ground." There is many a reef of -rocks which threatens a young man or woman's barque, as it is pushed -off across the waters of life's ocean; and, at the close of this -century, one such reef is certainly the neglect and desecration -of the Sabbath. It is difficult, perhaps undesirable, to lay down -minute rules upon a subject concerning the details of which good -folks conscientiously differ; but, in days when the social trend -is distinctly towards laxity, there are four main principles which -must be binding on all who acknowledge the New Testament as the -supreme law of life. Little, comparatively, is said there about the -observance of the first day of the week, but that little is very -helpful and suggestive. (1) Sunday should be a day of joy. It was -"with great joy" that the holy women returned from the sepulchre -after the resurrection. Let us try and make Sunday bright and -happy, especially to children and to the poor. (2) Sunday must -be a day of worship. The disciples were wont to meet together to -break bread in remembrance of their Master, and (Acts xx. 7) to -hear a sermon. (3) Sunday must be a day of generosity and kindness. -The apostle specially enjoins that each one should "lay by him in -store, as he may prosper." The spirit of this command must forbid -selfish entertainments and recreations, which impose extra toil on -hard-worked servants. (4) Sunday should be a day of rest, and (to -some extent, at least), of holy contemplation. St. John the Divine -at Patmos was "in the spirit on the Lord's Day," when he saw the -vision of the New Jerusalem. Sundays upon earth are a preparation -for "the Sabbaths of Eternity." Neglect and desecration are "rocks -ahead." Young men and maidens who fare forth into the world, and are -apt to be driven rockward by the powerful and dangerous currents of -public opinion, will find that these four stout scriptural anchors -will hold their craft secure and fast. - - -Crowns of Thorns and Crowns of Righteousness. - -A man called upon President Lincoln, introduced himself as one of -his best friends, and asked for a Government post, then vacant, on -the ground that it was solely through the applicant's exertions that -he was elected to the Presidency. "Oh, indeed," said Lincoln; "then -I now look upon the man who, of all men, has crowned my existence -with a crown of thorns. No post for you in my gift, I assure you. -I wish you good-morning." Thus it is that, when we obtain them, we -care nothing about things that once were objects of our ambition. It -will not be so with the never-fading crowns of righteousness that -are the rewards of another and happier world. - -[Illustration: MISS HARRISON. -(_The veteran Leicester Sunday-school teacher._) - -(_Photo: A. Pickering, Leicester._)] - - -The Leicester Silver Medallist. - -Many of our readers will be pleased to see the accompanying -portrait of Miss Anne Harrison, the veteran Sunday-school teacher -of Leicestershire, who was recently awarded the Silver Medal and -Presentation Bible for the longest known period of service in that -county. Fifty-eight years ago Miss Harrison commenced work in -the Sunday-school attached to the Baptist Chapel in Harvey Lane, -Leicester, and is still to be found at her post Sunday after Sunday, -devoting all her energies to the cause which is so near her heart, -and which she has so faithfully served for over half a century. - - -=ROLL OF HONOUR FOR SUNDAY-SCHOOL WORKERS.= - -The =Special Silver Medal= and =Presentation Bible= offered for -the longest known Sunday-school service in the county of =Sussex= -(for which applications were invited up to November 30th) have been -gained by - - MR. CHARLES WATTS, - 14, Western Road, Hove, - -who has distinguished himself by =fifty-one= years' service in the -county, forty-nine of which were spent in Christ Church Sunday -School, Montpelier Road, Brighton. - -As already announced, the next territorial county for which claims -are invited for the Silver Medal is - - =WILTSHIRE=, - -and applications, on the special form, must be received on or before -December 31st, 1898. We may add that =Durham= is the following -county selected, the date-limit for claims in that case being -January 31st, 1899. This county, in its turn, will be followed by -=Devonshire=, for which the date will be one month later--viz. -February 31st, 1899. - - * * * * * - -_Erratum._--Susan Hammond, the Essex County Medallist, was -inadvertently described in our November number as Miss Hammond -instead of Mrs. Hammond. - - -=THE QUIVER FUNDS.= - -The following is a list of contributions received from November 1st -up to and including November 30th, 1898. Subscriptions received -after this date will be acknowledged next month:-- - -For ="The Quiver" Christmas Stocking Fund=: Jessie B., Clerkenwell, -2s. 6d.; A School Girl, Stockport, 3s.; A. Newport, Dorchester, -1s.; L. Holland, Crouch End, 2s.; C. D., Bradford-on-Avon, 2s.; A -Sunday Scholar, 1s.; M. T., 3s.; E. E., Newmarket, 3s.; B. Burston, -Moreland Court, 1s.; A Few Friends at Hazelwood, 5s.; F. S. T., -1s.; R. S., Crouch End, 5s.; E. M. Ellis, Derby, 1s.; Mrs. S., -Newport, 5s.; Mrs. J. Cunningham, West Kensington, 5s.; E. Baylis, -Woldingham, 10s.; Violet, 2s.; H. D., 10s.; G. S. Andrews, 3s.; -A Reader, 2s.; E. R. Boys, Warlingham, 3s.; M. A., Kilburn, 1s.; -Sympathy, 1s. 6d.; Mrs. Anderson, 1s.; Anon., Croydon, 2s. 2d.; M., -Horsham, 5s.; S. L. G., Camberwell, 5s.; Anon., East Grinstead, -10s.; Anon., Dublin, 1s.; W. Dellar, 1s.; Little Florrie, Brighton, -2s. - -For "_The Quiver_" _Waifs' Fund_: J. J. E. (132nd donation), 5s.; -A Glasgow Mother (102nd donation), 1s.; S. A., Newport, 10s.; A -Swansea Mother, 5s. - -For _Dr. Barnardo's Homes_: An Irish Girl, 6s. 6d.; E. E., -Newmarket, 2s. - - * * * * * - -The Editor is always pleased to receive and forward to the -institutions concerned the donations of any of his readers who wish -to help the movements referred to in the pages of THE QUIVER. All -contributions of one shilling and upwards will be acknowledged. - -[Illustration: decorative] - - - - -THE QUIVER BIBLE CLASS. - -(BASED ON THE INTERNATIONAL SCRIPTURE LESSONS.) - - -QUESTIONS. - -25. Why was the place where our Lord performed His first miracle -called Cana of Galilee? - -26. Why was such a large quantity of water provided at Jewish feasts? - -27. How many disciples were with Jesus at the marriage in Cana of -Galilee? - -28. What proof have we that Nicodemus was a member of the Sanhedrim -or great council of the Jews? - -29. In what words does our Lord refer to His crucifixion while -speaking to Nicodemus? - -30. What was the piece of land which Jacob gave to his son Joseph? - -31. In what way could the woman of Samaria speak of Jacob as "our -father"? - -32. How did the Samaritans show their belief in Jesus as the -Redeemer of all mankind? - -33. In what way did our Lord manifest His Divine power to the -nobleman of Capernaum? - -34. At what celebrated place in Jerusalem did our Lord heal a man -who had been ill for thirty-eight years? - -35. Quote words in which Jesus speaks of Himself as the Judge of the -quick and dead. - -36. Why was it that when our Lord said to the Jews "My Father -worketh hitherto, and I work," they sought to kill Him? - - -ANSWERS TO QUESTIONS ON PAGE 192. - -13. He broke the most solemn oath which he had made to the King of -Babylon (2 Chron. xxxvi. 13). - -14. His eyes were burned out, and he was taken prisoner to Babylon -(Jer. lii. 11). - -15. The prophecy of Ezekiel, who foretold that Zedekiah should die -at Babylon, but should not see it (Ezek. xii. 13). - -16. He says the revelation of the Old Testament was given at various -times, and in many different ways, but the Gospel was revealed to -mankind by the Son of God Himself (Heb. i. 1, 2). - -17. "Are they not all ministering spirits, sent forth to minister -for them who shall be heirs of salvation?" (Heb. i. 14). - -18. It declares the divinity of Christ and records the deeper -spiritual truths of His teaching (St. John i. 1-14, and xx. 31). - -19. "The Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us" (St. John i. 14). - -20. "Behold, I will send My messenger, and he shall prepare the way -before Me" (Malachi iii. 1, and iv. 5). - -21. "For thou art an holy people unto the Lord thy God; the Lord thy -God hath chosen thee to be a special people unto Himself" (Deut. -vii. 6; St. John i. 11). - -22. When his brother, St. Philip, tried to bring him to see Jesus, -he said, "We have found Him, of whom Moses in the law, and the -prophets, did write" (St. John i. 45). - -23. Jesus said unto him, "Before that Phillip called thee, when thou -wast under the fig tree, I saw thee" (St. John i. 48). - -24. As Jesus passed by St. John said, "Behold the Lamb of God!" (St. -John i. 36). - - - * * * * * - -Transcriber's note: - -Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). - -Small capital text has been replaced with all capitals. - -The carat character (^) followed by letters enclosed in curly -brackets indicates that the following letters are superscripted. -(Example: March 1^{st.}). - -Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note. -Irregularities and inconsistencies in the text have been retained as -printed. - -The cover for the eBook version of this book was created by the -transcriber and is placed in the public domain. - -Page 266: "God answered Job out _out of_ whirlwind." The transcriber -has change this line to: "God answered Job _out of_ the whirlwind."c -domain. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Quiver 12/1899, by Anonymous - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE QUIVER 12/1899 *** - -***** This file should be named 43621-8.txt or 43621-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/3/6/2/43621/ - -Produced by Delphine Lettau, Julia Neufeld and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, -set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to -copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to -protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project -Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you -charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you -do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the -rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose -such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and -research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do -practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is -subject to the trademark license, especially commercial -redistribution. - - - -*** START: FULL LICENSE *** - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project -Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at -http://gutenberg.org/license). - - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy -all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. -If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the -terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or -entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement -and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" -or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the -collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an -individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are -located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from -copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative -works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg -are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project -Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by -freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of -this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with -the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by -keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project -Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in -a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check -the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement -before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or -creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project -Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning -the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United -States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate -access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently -whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, -copied or distributed: - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived -from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is -posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied -and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees -or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work -with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the -work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 -through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the -Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or -1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional -terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked -to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the -permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any -word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or -distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than -"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version -posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), -you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a -copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon -request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other -form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided -that - -- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is - owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he - has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the - Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments - must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you - prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax - returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and - sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the - address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to - the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." - -- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or - destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium - and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of - Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any - money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days - of receipt of the work. - -- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set -forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from -both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael -Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the -Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm -collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain -"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or -corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual -property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a -computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by -your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with -your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with -the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a -refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity -providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to -receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy -is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further -opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER -WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO -WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. -If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the -law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be -interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by -the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any -provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance -with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, -promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, -harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, -that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do -or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm -work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any -Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. - - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers -including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists -because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from -people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. -To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 -and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive -Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at -http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent -permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. -Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered -throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at -809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email -business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact -information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official -page at http://pglaf.org - -For additional contact information: - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To -SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any -particular state visit http://pglaf.org - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. -To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate - - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm -concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared -with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project -Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. - - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. -unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily -keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. - - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: - - http://www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. |