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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e303cd5 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #50672 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/50672) diff --git a/old/50672-8.txt b/old/50672-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 3fc89b2..0000000 --- a/old/50672-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7013 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Harmsworth Magazine, v. 1 1898-1899 - -No. 1, by Various - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: The Harmsworth Magazine, v. 1 1898-1899 - No. 1 - -Author: Various - -Release Date: December 31, 2015 [EBook #50672] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HARMSWORTH MAGAZINE *** - - - - -Produced by Victorian/Edwardian Pictorial Magazines, Lesley -Halamek, Jonathan Ingram and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - -_THE HARMSWORTH MAGAZINE._ - - - - -[Illustration: A FAIR ANGLO-SAXON. - -_From the Painting by A. Seifert._ - -_By Permission of the Berlin Photographic Co., Bond Street, W._] - - - - -THE - -HARMSWORTH - -MONTHLY PICTORIAL - -MAGAZINE - - -VOLUME I. - -1898-9. No. 1. - -[Illustration] - - -_PUBLISHED BY_ - -HARMSWORTH BROS., LIMITED, LONDON, E.C. - - - - -INDEX TO VOL. I. - -ARTICLES. - - PAGE. -ALBUM, A FAMOUS WIGMAKER'S FAMOUS. By Gavin Macdonald. - Illustrated by Facsimiles 356 -BALLOON JOURNEY, A GIRL'S, OVER LONDON. By Gertrude Bacon. - Illustrated by Photographs 400 -BEAUTIES, IRISH. By Ignota. - Illustrated by Photographs 484 -BLOODHOUNDS, A MAN HUNT WITH. By Alfred Arkas. - Illustrated by Photographs 383 -CHESHIRE TOWN, IN A DISAPPEARING. By Percy L. Parker. - Illustrated by Photographs 166 -"CHRYSANTHEMUMS CURLED HERE." A Chat with a Floral Barber. - By Alfred Arkas. Illustrated by Photographs 579 -CRACKERS, COSTLY CHRISTMAS. The Romance of Christmas Presents. - Illustrated by Photographs 439 -CRICKET AND CRICKETERS. Words by M. Randall Roberts. - Pictures by Mr. "Rip" 212 -CRICKET MATCH, A VERY QUEER. Mr. Dan Leno's Eleven v. Camberwell - United C.C. By Gavin Macdonald. Illustrated by Photographs 323 -CYCLIST, THE CLEVEREST AMATEUR, IN THE WORLD. Remarkable Trick - Riding by a Military Officer 493 -DANGER SIGNALS, NATURE'S. A Study of the Faces of Murderers. - By J. Holt Schooling. Illustrated by special Photographs 656 -DARLINGS, LITTLE. By Somers J. Summers. - Photographic Illustrations by W. J. Byrne 99 -DOCUMENTS, INCRIMINATING. - With Facsimiles of Fatal Writings 304 -DOOR-KNOCKERS, FAMOUS LONDON. - Illustrated by Photos specially taken. 216 -DOUBLES IN REAL LIFE, NOTABLE. - With Photographic Evidence 5 -ENGINE MATCH BETWEEN ENGLAND AND AMERICA, AN. By F. A. Talbot. - Illustrated by Photographs 651 -EXCUSE, OUR, FOR THE ISSUE OF A SIXPENNY MAGAZINE - AT THREEPENCE 3 -FIRE BRIGADE HEROES, TRAINING OUR. By Alfred Arkas. - Illustrated by Photographs 243 -FIRES, SOME SENSATIONAL. By Frederick A. A. Talbot. - Illustrated by Photographs 529 -FOOTBALL, MAKING A. An Essential Part of a Great Game. - Illustrated. 444 -FORTRESS, THE MOST REMARKABLE, IN THE WORLD. By Percy L. Parker. - Illustrated by Photographs 274 -MAN-OF-WAR, HOME LIFE ON BOARD A. - Illustrated by Photographs 86 -MAN IS MADE OF WHAT? By T. F. Manning. - Illustrated by Photographs 339 -MEDICAL DETECTIVE AND HIS WORK, THE. By T. F. Manning. - Illustrated by A. Morrow and by Diagrams 144 -MICE WORTH THEIR WEIGHT IN GOLD. By Gavin Macdonald. - Illustrated by Photographs 631 -MINIATURE CRAZE, THE MODERN. By H. M. Tindall. - Illustrated by Charming Examples 197 -MONEY, STRANGE KINDS OF. By Robert Machray. - Illustrated by Photographs 639 -MURDERS, LONDON'S UNDISCOVERED. By Lincoln Springfield. - Illustrated by Photographs 515 -NEWSPAPER, MAKING A MODERN. - By Alfred C. Harmsworth 38 -"PERPETUAL MOTION" SEEKERS. - With Illustrations of Machines recently invented 315 -PHOTOGRAPHIC LIES. With Remarkable Photos, proving - the Uselessness of the Camera as a Witness 259 -POISON DEVICES. - Illustrated 106 -POSTAGE STAMPS WORTH FORTUNES. - Illustrated by Facsimiles of Valuable Stamps 327 -RAILWAY SMASHES, FAMOUS. By Frederick A. Talbot. - Illustrated by Photographs 227 -ROYALTIES, LITTLE. - Illustrated with Photographs by Speaight 590 -ROYALTY, TATTOOED. By R. J. Stephen. - Illustrated by Photographs 472 -SANDOW, HOW, MADE ME STRONG. - Illustrated with Photographs 23 -SECRET CHAMBERS, REMARKABLE. - Written and illustrated by Allan Fea 416 -SERMONS WITHOUT WORDS. A Marvellous Performance in Dumb Show. - By Alfred Arkas 67 -SKELETONS, MODERN FAMILY. By Beatrice Knollys. - Illustrated by A. S. Hartrick 17 -SLEIGHS FOR CHRISTMAS. By J. E. Whitby. - Illustrated by Photographs 558 -SMOKER'S MUSEUM, FROM A. By T. C. Hepworth. - With Illustrations 370 -SPORT, THE MOST CRUEL, IN THE WORLD. By Sidney Gowing. - Illustrated by Photographs 182 -STATISTICS GONE MAD. By J. E. Grant. - Illustrated by Diagrams 609 -TEA, HOME OF FOUR O'CLOCK, THE. - Illustrated by Photographs 605 -TOY, A £10,000. Complete Working Railway in a Room. - By Robert Machray. Illustrated by Photographs 125 -WEATHER, HOW WE GET OUR. By Gavin Macdonald. - Illustrated by Photographs 55 -WHISTLER, THE WORLD'S CHAMPION. - Illustrated by Photographs and Musical Examples 546 -WHITE "ZOO," A. Lord Alington's Hobby. By Alfred Arkas. - Illustrated by Photographs 154 -WIVES, AMERICAN, OF ENGLISH HUSBANDS. - Illustrated by Portraits 289 -1898. Your Everyday Life in the past Twelve Months. - By Alfred Arkas 455 -3,000 MILES ON RAILWAY SLEEPERS. One Aspect of a Bicycle Tour - Round the World. By Edward Lunn. Illustrated by Photographs 619 - - -STORIES. - -BABY SANTA CLAUS, A. The Story of a Christmas Reconciliation. - By Marion Elliston. Illustrated by Harold Copping 521 -BEHAVIOUR OF WARRINGTON, V.C., THE. By Percy E. Reinganum. - Illustrated by W. B. Wollen, R.I. 236 -CHANCELLOR'S WARD, THE. By Richard Marsh. - Illustrated by F. H. Townsend 73 -CHOLERA SHIP, THE. By Cutcliffe Hyne. - Illustrated by Richard Jack 159 -CLEVER MRS. BLADON. By E. Burrowes. - Illustrated by Sydney Cowell 645 -COUNT AND I, THE. The Story of a Stolen Letter. - By James Barratt. Illustrated by Robert Sauber 447 -COURTSHIP BY PROXY. By H. A. Therrauld. - Illustrated by Fred Pegram 461 -CROWDED HOUR, A. By Clarence Rook. - Illustrated by B. E. Minns 634 -CURSE OF THE CATSEYE, THE. By Alfred Slade. - Illustrated by E. Prater 623 -DAPHNE. By Walter E. Grogan. - Illustrated by Harold Copping 361 -DESCENT OF REGINALD HAMPTON, THE. By Halliwell Sutcliffe. - Illustrated by W. Rainey, R.I. 189 -DESPATCHES FOR GIBRALTAR, THE. By Gilbert Heron. - Illustrated by D. B. Waters 389 -DESTINY, MY. A Wayside Romance. By C. K. Burrow. - Illustrated by Fred Pegram 347 -EDITOR'S ESCAPADE, THE. By Archibald Eyre. - Illustrated by S. H. Vedder 405 -FACE AT THE DOOR, THE. By Walter D. Dobell. - Illustrated by S. H. Vedder 373 -FAIR NEIGHBOUR'S PIANO, MY, AND WHAT CAME OF IT. - By Henry Martley. Illustrated by F. H. Townsend 281 -"FINDER WILL BE REWARDED, THE." A Bachelor's Romance. - By Gerald Brenan. Illustrated by Sydney Cowell 489 -FIVE HUNDRED POUND PRIZE, THAT. By Richard Marsh. - Illustrated by John H. Bacon 172 -GASCOYNE'S TERRIBLE REVENGE. A Story of the Indian Mutiny. - By J. F. Cornish. Illustrated by Vereker M. Hamilton. R.P.E. 265 -GOLDEN CIRCLET, THE. By Charles Kennett Burrow. - Illustrated by Ralph Peacock 11 -HER LETTER! By J. Harwood Panting. - Illustrated by W. B. Wollen, R.I. 61 -HIS HIGHNESS THE RAJAH. The Quest of the Yellow Diamond. - By Beatrice Heron-Maxwell. Illustrated by E. J. Sullivan 549 -HIS SOVEREIGN REMEDY. By Clarence Rook. - Illustrated by B. E. Minns 94 -HOW THE BURGLAR HELPED AT CHRISTMAS. By Lucian Sorrel. - Illustrated by H. M. Brock 476 -HOW THE MINISTER'S NOTES WERE RECOVERED. - By Beatrice Heron-Maxwell. Illustrated by Fred Pegram 250 -IAN'S SACRIFICE. By Alick Munro. - Illustrated by Ralph Peacock 309 -"KLONDYKE, OFF TO." By George A. Best. - Illustrated with Novel Life Photographs 583 -LONDON'S LATEST LION. By Gilbert Dayle. - Illustrated by Fred Pegram 595 -"MAN OVERBOARD!" An Episode of the Red Sea. - By Winston Spencer Churchill. Illustrated by Henry Austin 662 -MISSING Q.C.'s, THE. By John Oxenham. - Illustrated by Frank Craig and T. Robinson 497 -MOTOR-CAR ELOPEMENT, AND HOW IT ENDED, THEIR. By Edgar Jepson. - Illustrated by H. R. Millar 49 -PRINCESS IN GREEN AND TAN, A. By Arthur Preston. - Illustrated by A. Rackham 611 -SHORT MEMORY OF MR. JOSEPH SCORER, THE VERY. - By John Oxenham. Illustrated by H. M. Brock 131 -STIR OUTSIDE THE CAFÉ ROYAL, THE. By Clarence Rook. - Illustrated by Hal Hurst, R.B.A. 319 -STONE RIDER, THE. By Nellie K. Blissett. - Illustrated by Max Cowper 30 -TELEGRAPH MYSTERY, A. By W. B. Northrop. - Illustrated by H. H. Flère. 539 -TRAGEDY OF A THIRD SMOKER, THE. By Cutcliffe Hyne. - Illustrated by J. Finnemore. R.B.A. 297 -TRAVELLING COMPANION, MY. By Catherine Childar. - Illustrated by Fred Pegram 115 - -FULL PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS. - -"ANDRÉE, INDEED! I WAS THERE LONG AGO." - From the Painting by T.C. Hepworth 669 -BURDEN OF LOVE, A. - From the Painting by N. Sichel 224 -CHARLES I. ON HIS WAY TO EXECUTION. - From the Painting by Ernest Crofts, R.A. 331 -CHRISTMAS, THE FIRST. - From the Painting of H. J. Sinkel 434 -CUBAN BELLE, A. - From the Painting by Gabriel Ferrier 219 -DAUGHTER OF CANADA, A. - Photographic Study 565 -DECEMBER DAY IN THE OLDEN TIME, A. - From the Painting by A. Perez 568 -DRAGON AND GEORGE, THE. - From the Painting by R. Holyoake 333 -EMPTY CHAIR, THE. - From the Painting by Briton Rivière, R.A. 336 -EVERYBODY'S FAVOURITE. - Photographic Study 561 -FAVOURITE, THE. - From the Painting by Arthur J. Elsley 110 -FOR DEAR LIFE. - From the Painting by Stanley Berkeley 329 -GIRL OF THE PERIOD. - From the Painting by Heywood Hardy 668 -GOOD NIGHT! - From the Painting by G. Hom 112 -GORDONS AND GREYS TO THE FRONT. - From the Painting by Stanley Berkeley 430 -GREEK GIRLS PLAYING BALL. - From the Painting by the late Lord Leighton 577 -GREUZE'S MASTERPIECES, ONE OF. - Now in the National Gallery 425 -HAPPY AS A KING. - Photographic Study 671 -"HUSH!" - From the Painting by Maud Goodman 109 -IN RUSSIA--THE TERROR OF THE PLAIN. - From the Painting by A. Von W. Kowalski 672 -JOHN BULL FOR EVER--WHAT WE HAVE WE'LL HOLD. - From the Painting by Maud Earl 56 -JUDITH. - From the Painting by N. Sichel 334 -LAKE WINDERMERE IN THE WINTER OF 1885. - From a Photograph 564 -LAST ELEVEN AT MAIWAND, THE. - From the Painting by Frank Feller 566 -LAST MINUTE, THE. NOW OR NEVER. - From the Painting by T. M. Hemy 443 -LITTLE DEAR, A. - Photographic Study 667 -LIVE AND LET LIVE. - From the Painting by A. W. Strutt 332 -MAKING A MARRIAGE IN THE OLDEN TIME. - From the Painting by A. T. Vernon 221 -MANNERS AT TABLE. - From the Painting by A. J. Elsley 330 -MEDITATION. - From the Painting by N. Sichel 111 -MIRIAM THE PROPHETESS. - From the Painting by N. Sichel 574 -MOTHER'S DARLING. - Photographic Study 569 -NAPOLEON'S FLIGHT AFTER WATERLOO. - From the Painting by A. C. Gow, R.A. 666 -OPPORTUNITY FOR FLATTERY, AN. - From the Painting by D. Hernandez 575 -OVERTAKEN! - From the Painting by John A. Lomax 280 -PETS, SOME COSTLY. - From Photographs 85 -PRINCE, OUR. - From the Painting by A. Stuart Wortley 567 -PUSHING FAMILY, A. - From the Painting by G. A. Holmes 428 -RUSSIAN BELLE, A. - Photographic Study 571 -SALMON POACHER, THE. - From the Painting by Douglas Adams 335 -SON AND HEIR, THE. - From the Painting by L. Schmutzler 427 -SPAIN, A FLOWER OF. - From the Painting by N. Sichel 108 -SPAIN, A LITTLE MAID FROM. - Photographic Study 338 -SPANISH PEACE COMMISSIONER, A. - From the Painting by Hal Hurst, R.B.A. 665 -SUMMER. - From the Painting by W. Reynolds Stephens 220 -SWEET AND TWENTY. - From the Painting by G. L. Seymour 2 -TALLY HO! - From the Painting by Heywood Hardy 572 -TIME TO GET UP. - From the Painting by A. J. Elsley 426 -TURNER'S GREAT WORK--THE FIGHTING TEMERAIRE. - Now in the National Gallery 429 -VERY OLD, OLD STORY, A. - From the Painting by L. Alma Tadema, R.A. 670 -WAITS, THE. - From the Painting by W. H. Trood 570 -WATER CARRIER, THE. - From the Painting by J. W. Godward 222 -WHICH WINS? - From the Painting by Arthur J. Elsley 223 -WHY NO. I. WAS SO POPULAR. - Head, from the Painting by A. Seifert 563 -WHY THE ANTELOPES STAMPEDED. - From the Painting by William Strutt 226 -WILL HE COME? - From the Painting by Marcus Stone, R.A. 114 -YORKSHIRE LASS, A. - Photographic Study 573 - -POETRY. - -BABY BELLE. By Bernard Malcolm Ramsay. - Illustrated by Harold Copping 482 -BABY, IN PRAISE OF. By Barrington McGregor. - Illustrated by C. Robinson 661 -GOLDEN HAIR AND CURLYHEAD. By Allan Upward. - Illustrated by J. H. Bacon 435 -LITTLE MAID. - Illustrated by C. Robinson 258 -ROGUEY MAN, THE. - Illustrated by H. H. Flère 346 -ROSE AT LAST, A. By Clifton Bingham. - Illustrated by Harold Nelson 22 -SAD FATE OF MISTRESS PRUE, THE. - Illustrated by Robert Sauber 399 -SHOE, A TINY. - Illustrated by Archie Watkins 308 -SUNSET, BEYOND THE. By Clifton Bingham. - Illustrated by Charles Robinson 235 -THREE SCORE AND TEN. - Illustrated by T. Walter West 388 -TO A BLANK SPACE. By the Rev. J. Hudson, M.A. - Illustrated by Robert Wallace 576 -[Illustration: SWEET AND TWENTY. - -_From the Painting by G. L. Seymour._] [Illustration] - - - - -OUR EXCUSE ... - -FOR THE ISSUE OF A SIXPENNY MAGAZINE AT THREEPENCE. - -... _SOME REASONS WHY_. - - -The beginning of a new Magazine, once an event, is now so much a -commonplace that the ancient excuse of the "long felt want" no longer -serves. - -In the days of the Nabobs, the gentle shaking of the Pagoda tree -sufficed to bring great stores of wealth, but these be the times of -the fallen rupee. Your modern Anglo-Indian toils out his existence for -a bare pittance. And it is so in the making of Magazines. One hundred -and fifty years ago the mere issue of the "Gentleman's" stirred to -their depths the Coffee Houses and the Clubs, not only here in the Old -Country, but in our North American Colonies as well. - -Times are changed, alas! "The Harmsworth Magazine," though, indeed, it -appeals to an English-speaking audience of over one hundred millions, -will at best provoke a little favourable comment in the train and -the library, for the Magazine field has been vastly exploited, and -especially of late. A modern buyer of periodical publications rises as -warily to a new lure as a twice-shot-over partridge to the gun. - -The reader of Magazines has of late years been harried by a direct, -by an enfilading, and a ricochetting fire of new adventures, some -honestly and avowedly frivolous, others portentously literary, a few -loftily artistic. Every imaginable plan has been adopted whereby his -capture might be effected. Projectiles calculated to vanquish by size -and weight of paper have been hurled at him; there have even been -surreptitious and spy-like attempts to enter his domestic circle by -seeking the favour of his wife and daughters by means of "Women's -Departments," all frocks, furbelows, and complexion cures; and worse, -his very children have been attacked by page on page of "Nursery Chat" -and "Tiny Tales for Little Listeners." - -Last straw of all, he has been patronised by the vast army of "Great -Authors" of the period. And if the chit-chat of the press is to -be believed there never were in Rome, in Athens, or in the days of -Elizabeth herself, so many distinguished litterateurs as at present. -The unfortunate victim has trembled at the solemn pomp of - - "The editor of the 'Monster Magazine' has pleasure in - announcing he has been so fortunate as to secure the - masterpiece of Mr. ----." - -or, - - "It is rumoured that Mr. ---- has been induced to enter - into an agreement to contribute an important series of short - stories to the "Monster Magazine" during the Spring of 1905. - Mr. ---- is entirely occupied in the fulfilment of various - contracts until that time." - -It is "right here," as our American kinsmen have it, that "The -Harmsworth Magazine" comes in. - -Together with a great many other people, we came to the conclusion -long since that a good deal of the literary wares that are foisted on -the public by means of the ordinary advertising methods of personal -paragraphs and "interviews" is mainly rubbish. Frankly and openly -do we, therefore, declare that mere "names" will never command an -entrance to the pages of this Magazine. As with our "Daily Mail" and -our other journals, we shall rely on new writers. The public is weary -of the reiteration of the same contributors to each of the monthly -publications. He (and she) wants something new. It is our desire, for -the sake of the public, for the benefit of young artists and others, -and for our own profit, to avoid the productions of the professional -"ring" of much advertised mediocrity which most assuredly dominates -many of our Magazines to-day, though the work of really representative -men and women will always be secured, without regard to its cost. - -In selecting the price at which "The Harmsworth Magazine" should be -issued to the British, Canadian, Australasian, South African, and -Anglo-Indian public, we choose that of the two most distinguished -journals in our language, "The Times" and "Punch." - -Can such a publication as this be sold for 3d.? Provided we reach -a gigantic circulation, we can do it. We are enabled to issue a -threepenny Magazine containing more expensive literary matter, more -numerous pictures, and more pages than the sixpenny Magazines of a few -months back, at so ridiculous a price, because this Magazine is only a -small incident in an organization controlling four daily journals and -nearly thirty weekly periodicals; because we already possess and are -now building printing machinery of an entirely novel and labour-saving -nature. - -The Magazine will be cheap as to price only. In every respect, save, -perhaps, mere bulk, "The Harmsworth Magazine" will compete frankly, -and without reserve, with older friends in the same field. - -The experiment, largely due to a devoted band of workers, headed by my -brother Cecil, is at least an interesting one. Will it succeed? Much -depends upon the good word of those who read it. If it meets with -your approval, if you consider that the enterprise is worthy of -commendation, will you make our effort known to your circle? - -ALFRED C. HARMSWORTH. - -[Illustration: WE ARE FIVE.] - - - - -NOTABLE DOUBLES IN REAL LIFE. - -_With Photographic Evidence._ - - -[Illustration: _Elliot & Fry, photo._ - -THE DUKE OF NORFOLK.] - -[Illustration: _Elliot & Fry, photo._ - -MR. G. MANVILLE FENN.] - -It is pretty generally believed that the Czars of Russia are in the -habit of employing understudies to personate them when some more than -usually hazardous public appearance has to be made. Whether or not -this is true we cannot take upon ourselves to say, but it is very -clear that if Nicholas II. were in need of a "double," he would not -require to go outside the circle of his own relatives to find an -almost exact replica of himself in our Duke of York. The two Princes -are first cousins, but the facial resemblance existing between them -is far more remarkable than is ordinarily the case between near -relations. It is true, of course, that the Duke of York is a -better-looking man than his cousin, but any make-up artist, by -the employment of a few pencilled lines round the eyes, and by -re-arranging the hair, could transform H.R.H. into an exact likeness -of the Czar. - -[Illustration: _W & D Downey, photo, Ebury Street._ - -H.I.M. THE CZAR AND H.R.H. THE DUKE OF YORK.] - -More noteworthy still, because of the absence of relationship between -them, is the likeness of the present Postmaster-General, the Duke of -Norfolk, and the veteran novelist, Mr. George Manville Fenn. Looking -upon the two portraits, it is not easy to believe that Mr. Fenn is -sixteen years the senior of the head of the great house of Howard. -Another curious feature in connection with the two cases before us is -the fact that, although the Duke of Norfolk is almost as much like Mr. -George Manville Fenn as one pea resembles another, his resemblance -to certain portraits of the great Charles Dickens is rather remote, -whereas Mr. Fenn's is very close. - -It should here be mentioned that in the case of most of our doubles -the likeness is even more pronounced in actual life than it appears -from the photographs. In many instances the gestures, the walk, and -the little mannerisms of the personages here portrayed are practically -identical. The writer recalls to mind the example of a gentleman -well-known in the West end of London who resembles the present Duke of -Devonshire as closely as the Duke of York resembles the Czar. The -Duke of Devonshire's imitator--if he be such--not only wears his hat -pressed down over his eyes in the well-known fashion of the Duke, -but assumes almost as inimitably that intensely bored look that has -deceived so many people as to the true character of the head of the -Liberal Unionist party. Mere photographs would inevitably fail to do -justice to a case of this kind. - -[Illustration: _Russell & Sons, photo._ - -THE RT. HON. J. CHAMBERLAIN, M.P.] - -[Illustration: _London Stereoscopic Co., photo._ - -MR. AUSTEN CHAMBERLAIN, M.P.] - -In regard to the adjoining portraits of Mr. Austen Chamberlain and -that of his scarcely less distinguished father, it is noticeable that -in addition to the striking facial resemblance, there is the same -defect in the sight of the right eye occasioning the use of the -monocle. Even if we take it for granted that Mr. Joseph Chamberlain -has indulged in the harmless foible of dressing his hair and arranging -the cast of his countenance to accentuate his likeness to the member -for East Worcestershire, it cannot be gainsaid that the similarity -between the son and the father is real enough to merit illustration in -this gallery of "doubles." - -Jesting apart, those who have studied Mr. Austen Chamberlain in the -House and on the platform, prophesy for him a very remarkable career. -He has much of the readiness and all the imperturbability that have -made his father the ablest "parliamentary hand" since the retirement -of Mr. Gladstone. It is interesting to note that the disbelief of Mr. -Chamberlain _père_ in exercise, as a means of recruiting the health, -is not shared by Mr. C. _fils_, who is an enthusiastic cyclist. - -[Illustration: _London Stereoscopic Co., photo._ - -MR. L. ALMA-TADEMA, R.A.] - -[Illustration: _Elliott & Fry, photo._ - -THE LATE MR. GEO. DU MAURIER.] - -The late Mr. Du Maurier was of French extraction, while Mr. -Alma-Tadema was born at Dronryp, in Holland, yet they might have been -twin brothers, so strangely alike were they. If Mr. Du Maurier had -worn his hair a little longer and parted it in the middle, the most -intimate mutual friends of the two distinguished artists must have -found it difficult to tell which was which. An amusing story is told -illustrating this point. Mr. Du Maurier, dining at a friend's house -one evening, was placed next to a lady whom he did not recollect to -have met before. A brief dialogue, something to this purpose, ensued: - -Lady: "You know, Mr. Alma-Tadema, that you are supposed to resemble -Mr. du Maurier very closely. For my part, I do not see how the most -superficial observer could be deceived in the matter!" - -Mr. Du Maurier: "Pardon me, but I am Mr. Du Maurier!" - -Some people tell the story the other way round--with Mr. Alma-Tadema -as the second party in the dialogue--with equal effect. - -[Illustration: _Elliott & Fry, photo._ - -PROFESSOR STUART, M.P.] - -[Illustration: _Elliott & Fry, photo._ - -MR. STANLEY J. WEYMAN.] - -These are portraits of Professor Stuart, M.P. for Hackney, and Mr. -Stanley J. Weyman, the novelist. If Mr. Weyman ever becomes a member -of Parliament it is to be hoped that he will not relinquish his -eyeglass. Were he to do so he would run a great risk of merging -his identity in that of the Professor. He might not object to this, -however, nor would Professor Stuart protest very indignantly we may be -sure, were he to find himself suddenly credited with the authorship -of Mr. Weyman's fascinating romances. Let us hope that Mr. Weyman will -not enter the political arena, bestowing on Westminster the gifts that -were meant for mankind. - -[Illustration: _Elliott & Fry, photo._ - -MR. EDWARD GERMAN.] - -[Illustration: _Elliott & Fry, photo._ - -MR. ANTHONY HOPE.] - -Most of us have forgotten that Mr. Anthony Hope contested a seat in -Parliament in 1892, but few of us are sorry that the gifted author -failed to get in. Mr. Anthony Hope Hawkins, to give him his full -name, is an excellent speaker, but even that gift is not so useful -in Parliament as consistent and unquestioning voting-power, and until -members are allowed to read their speeches the gift of authorship -will remain at a discount there. A good many of us, perhaps, could cut -tolerable figures at Westminster, but our Anthony Hopes and Stanley -Weymans are few and far between, and we would wish to keep them to -their proper work of literature. Mr. Edward German, Mr. Anthony Hope's -double, is a young composer who has done very well already, and may be -expected to do better in the future. - -[Illustration: _Elliott & Fry, photo._ - -THE RT. HON. CECIL J. RHODES.] - -[Illustration: _Hills & Saunders, photo._ - -SIR J. STAINER.] - -A close examination of the portraits of the Rt. Hon. Cecil John Rhodes -and of Sir John Stainer, the Professor of Music at Oxford, should -well repay the expert physiognomist. At first blush it seems hardly -probable that the man of action, the empire builder, should have much -in common with the scholarly musician--though indeed Mr. Rhodes has -"faced the music" right manfully more than once in the course of his -splendid career. Examine carefully the mouths of our two celebrities, -and take note of the well-defined lines leading downwards from the -corner of the nose. The eyes, too, and the contours of the two faces -are strangely similar. There is a dimple in Mr. Rhodes' cheeks that -proves conclusively, if we had no other evidence, that Mr. Rhodes is -a man of humour, nor are similar indications wanting in the adjoined -portrait of Sir John Stainer. If Sir John had taken himself off to -South Africa in early youth it might have been his fate to add another -empire to the Queen's dominions; if Mr. Rhodes had stayed on at Oriel -College, Oxford, and devoted his vast abilities to the study of music, -he might now be occupying the professional chair in that art at his -Alma Mater. - -[Illustration: _London Stereoscopic Co., photo._ - -MR. JOHN HARE.] - -[Illustration: _London Stereoscopic Co., photo._ - -MR. ARTHUR ROBERTS.] - -There is a distinct style of theatrical face that we all recognise -directly we see it. For instance, the heavy tragedian with the blue -chin and luxuriant hair, à la Sir Henry Irving, is known wherever he -is seen, and quite a number of pages of our Magazine might be filled -with his doubles. But Mr. John Hare and Mr. Arthur Roberts whose -portraits we give side by side are comedians (of widely different -styles), and are not particularly theatrical in appearance. Off the -stage Mr. Hare might be taken for an eminent Q.C., while "Arthur" -might be supposed to move exclusively in turf circles. Mr. Hare, whose -real name is Fairs, is, of course, the best "old man" actor we have. -In connection with this fact he himself tells a rather good story. -He was in a carriage on the Underground Railway when he met an old -school-fellow. Gradually the conversation turned to theatres. "Are you -fond of the stage?" Mr. Hare was asked by his friend. When the reply -was "Yes," he presumed that Mr. Hare had seen a certain play at the -Prince of Wales's. - -"No," said Mr. Hare, "I can't say I have seen it!" - -"Then you should go at once," said his friend. "It's a capital play, -and a devilish clever old man acts in it--a fellow named Hare!" - -[Illustration: _A. Sachs, photo, Bradford._ - -MR. MARK OLDROYD, M.P.] - -[Illustration: _London Stereoscopic Co., photo._ - -LORD BALFOUR OF BURLEIGH.] - -[Illustration: _Elliott & Fry, photo._ - -SIR THOS. ESMONDE, M.P.] - -[Illustration: _Russell & Sons, photo._ - -SIR E. GREY, M.P.] - -Lord Balfour of Burleigh, the Secretary for Scotland, and Mr. Mark -Oldroyd, M.P. for Dewsbury, are an interesting pair of political -doubles. Lord Balfour (whose title by the way was attainted in 1716 -and only restored to the present peer in 1869) is one of the hard -workers in the House of Lords, and knows more about education, water -supplies, and Sunday closing, than an omnibus-full of average members -of the Lower House. When not actively engaged, in his Secretarial -capacity, in looking after the interests of the Northern Kingdom, Lord -Balfour is wont to put in a little light work as chairman of a factory -or rating committee. Mr. Mark Oldroyd divides his time between his -political duties and his business, as a woollen manufacturer, in -Dewsbury. He has been mayor of the famous Yorkshire town, and is as -proud of his native place as his townsfolk are proud of him. - -Two youthful baronets and Members of Parliament now claim our -attention. Sir Edward Grey is almost as distinguished in Parliament -as he is in the world of athletics--he is once more tennis (not -lawn-tennis) champion for England. As Under-Secretary for Foreign -Affairs in the last Government, he was a pronounced success--his -manner being voted only less superior than that of the extremely -superior person, the Hon. George Curzon, who ornaments the same office -at the present time. Sir Thomas Esmonde, born in the same year (1862) -as Sir Edward Grey, should have a splendid parliamentary future before -him, for he is a descendant of no less a celebrity than the great -Henry Grattan. - -[Illustration: _Elliott & Fry, photo._ - -RT. HON. LORD ROSEBERY.] - -[Illustration: _Elliott & Fry, photo._ - -HON. PHILIP STANHOPE, M.P.] - -[Illustration: _London Stereoscopic Co., photo._ - -RT. HON. ARNOLD MORLEY, M.P.] - -Lord Rosebery has at least two doubles among public men. This is not -to be wondered at when one considers how popular a man is the last -Liberal Prime Minister. - -When the Duke of Wellington was living, it was the pride of many a -private citizen to be thought like the great Duke; and Disraeli had -many doubles, the late Sir James Stansfeld being one of them. In -Germany, at the present moment, we may meet passable duplicates of -Bismarck in every town. Who does not recollect the perfect army of -Randolph Churchills that invaded society when that brilliant young -statesman's fame was at its greatest? It is surely a harmless conceit -that causes an inoffensive private person, if he in any way resembles -a great man of whom everybody is talking, to accentuate the likeness -by every means in his power. - -But in the case of Lord Rosebery's doubles it is somewhat different. -Both Mr. Arnold Morley and Mr. Philip Stanhope are distinguished men -themselves, and we may be quite sure that they do not spend much of -their time dressing up to the likeness of their political leader. -Mr. Philip Stanhope is a near relative of Lord Rosebery's, and is of -exactly the same age. Mr. Arnold Morley is two years younger than Lord -Rosebery (having been born in 1849), was Postmaster-General in the -last Liberal Administration, and may some day be Prime Minister. - -[Illustration: _Valentine & Sons, photo._ - -THE LATE RT. HON. W. E. GLADSTONE.] - -[Illustration: _Westfield, photo, Walmer._ - -MR. H. PAGE, J.P.] - -With doubles of Mr. Gladstone we might easily fill several pages -of this magazine. Mr. Henry Page, J.P., of Deal, is an almost exact -replica of the venerable statesman, and has been the recipient of -attentions really meant for Mr. Gladstone on more than one occasion. -It is a singular fact that Mr. Page's father bore a remarkable -likeness to the Duke of Wellington. - -The reader will have noticed already that the greater number of our -doubles is to be found in the ranks of the politicians. It is really -quite astonishing to contemplate how many doubles are to be found in -the House of Commons itself. - -[Illustration: _Elliott & Fry, photo._ - -MR. H. O. ARNOLD FORSTER, M.P.] - -[Illustration: _Elliott & Fry, photo._ - -MR. E. F. G. HATCH, M.P.] - -Mr. H. O. Arnold Forster and Mr. E. F. G. Hatch, M.P. for the Gorton -Division of South-West Lancs, for instance, it is said grow more like -one another every day. - -The difficulty experienced by the Speaker in attaching the right name -to these gentlemen when they rise to "catch his eye" must be very -considerable. - -[Illustration: _Russell & Sons, photo._ - -MR. J. ROCHE, M.P.] - -[Illustration: _Elliott & Fry, photo._ - -RT. HON. LORD GEORGE HAMILTON, M.P.] - -Lord George Hamilton, who, with Mr. J. Roche, M.P., makes up the -last pair of our doubles, is an excellent example of the immense -disadvantage attaching to a public man whose features do not lend -themselves to caricature. Had Lord George overcome his natural -deficiencies in this respect by the adoption of an eyeglass, an -orchid, or an eccentric brand of waistcoat, he might ere now have been -ranked among our Prime Ministers, for it is an undoubted fact that -these details are better remembered by the public at large than years -of devoted hard work. - -Disraeli's cork-screw curl on the forehead is less likely to be -forgotten than his splendid services to the Empire, while it may be -asserted with confidence that Mr. Chamberlain's eyeglass and orchid -will linger in the public mind long after his personal sacrifices -for the principle of Unionism are familiar to none but the student of -history. - -When at the General Election of 1868 Lord George captured the seat -for the County of Middlesex--then regarded as an impregnable Liberal -stronghold--a dazzling future was prophesied for him. If these -prophecies have not been realised to the full extent it is not, as -we believe, because Lord George has not lived up to his earlier -reputation, but simply because Nature has not gifted him with -a remarkable personal appearance, nor art with a satisfactory -substitute. However, a Statesman even of the first rank who has -occupied with distinction such important offices as First Lord of -the Admiralty and Secretary of State for India, has no reason to be -dissatisfied with himself. No doubt each reader of this article will -be able to add considerably to our gallery of "doubles," but we have -done enough if we have opened up an amusing and interesting train of -ideas. - - - - -THE GOLDEN CIRCLET. - -A COMPLETE STORY BY CHARLES KENNETT BURROW. - -_Illustrated by Ralph Peacock._ - - -[Illustration: "HE VENTURED TO GLANCE OUT."] - -Annesley walked past the main entrance to the Century Theatre in the -curious condition of one who is able partly to regard himself from -the outside. The boards were placarded with the announcement of a new -play, to be produced that day week, "The Golden Circlet," by Conrad -Howe. Now Annesley and Conrad Howe were the same person; but it was -difficult to convince the former, who had worked so deadly hard and -failed so often, that the latter was now within sight of what might -prove a great success. Annesley saw people stop to look at the -announcement and read his other name, with a feeling that he was -almost guilty of a serious misdemeanour; he was taking them, as it -were, at a disadvantage; he was almost inclined to tap one elderly -gentleman on the shoulder and assure him that no harm was intended to -him or any one else. - -The secret of the authorship of "The Golden Circlet" had been well -kept. Only three people were in the know, and not one of these was -a woman. Annesley therefore felt safe. He had assumed the other name -because his own had brought him no luck; he imagined people shrugging -shoulders and wagging wise heads; he could hear the murmur,--"What! -Annesley still writing plays? If he hadn't wasted his time over that, -he might have had some money left. What a fool the man is!" Annesley -had therefore put down the pen and Conrad Howe had taken it up. -Moreover, Conrad Howe had actually written a play which seemed to -have in it the elements of popularity; hence newspaper paragraphs, -discussions as to identity, and finally the fixing of the first night -and the appearance of the posters. - -"The Golden Circlet" represented six months' grinding work. He -had practically shut himself away from the world. He had declined -invitations, paid no calls, risked everything on a last throw. When -the thing was finished it seemed like coming into fresh air again; he -remembered people whose names he had almost forgotten, and above all a -girl whom he had told himself it might be wiser to forget; and, while -his passionate working fit was on, he had almost succeeded, seeing -her only as a possibility at the beginning of success. It is wonderful -what hard work may do for a man, for a time. But when the pause comes -human nature must always have its backward glance, its old heart -searchings, its reviving pains. - -Annesley, then, stood watching the entrance to the Century Theatre, -and, as he stood there, suddenly his heart commenced a wild stampede. -He slipped into the doorway of a shop just in time to escape the -eyes of a girl who was walking quickly up the Strand. He waited for a -moment; she did not pass. After a time he ventured to glance out; she -had left the theatre, and was disappearing in the crowd. - -His first impulse was to overtake her and make a clean breast of -everything, but a moment's reflection convinced him that, having -restrained himself so far, it would be folly to make a doubtful step -then. Connie Bolitho had probably no idea that Conrad Howe was a cloak -for Herbert Annesley, and he saw an opportunity for a little comedy -not to be neglected. Since his position had grown stronger he felt -free to indulge his humours; a year before life had seemed all -tragedy, with a diminishing banking account, and a sheaf of unpaid -bills. He walked carelessly up to the box-office. - -"Did a lady take seats a moment ago; a lady with a red hat and -fur-trimmed cloak?" - -"Pretty?" asked the clerk. - -"Very pretty," said Annesley. - -"Yes,--two stalls." - -"Two!" said Annesley, with an inner question in the word. "Are the -next seats engaged--the ones, I mean, on either side of those two?" - -The man looked at the plan. - -"No," he said. - -"Book them to me, please." - -[Illustration: "'YOU ARE FORGIVEN,' SHE SAID, SWEETLY."] - -The clerk smiled benignly as he handed the tickets to Annesley; the -life in a box-office is dull during business hours. - -Annesley walked away with his tickets, feeling that he had done a -good morning's work. He had at any rate made sure of a seat near Miss -Bolitho; if her companion were a man he must brace himself to eclipse -that fortunate individual; if a woman, it did not matter. He would -prefer the woman, for in six months a great deal might have happened. -Miss Bolitho was not bound to him in any way; they had seemed to -understand each other, but a struggling writer with only debts to his -credit, had not dared to lay those debts and a doubtful future at his -lady's feet. - -During the next week Annesley's time was fully occupied, but when the -great day came and the final rehearsal was over he had a few hours -in which to feel that almost unendurable excitement which precedes an -ordeal the result of which is not in our own hands. His part of the -work was over, but would the actors rise to theirs? He believed they -would, but belief is a poor support when so much depends upon it. His -excitement was also doubled by the prospect of watching the effect of -his work on Miss Bolitho. - -Annesley reached the theatre five minutes before the curtain rose. The -house was full; the gallery seethed like a hive, people were already -standing at the back of the pit. A glance showed him that Miss Bolitho -was there, with a man whom he had never seen before at her side. He -made his way quickly to his seat and was there before she had observed -him. - -"You are as interested in plays as ever?" he asked. - -"Mr. Annesley!" she cried. He was sure that the hand she gave him -trembled a little. - -"May I ask you to forgive me for the past six months? I've been -working terribly hard, almost night and day." - -"At a play?" - -"Yes,--at a play." - -"You are forgiven," she said sweetly, "because you are brave and stick -to your ideals." - -"I am rewarded," he murmured. A glance at her face assured him that -her beauty was not less; that, at any rate, had remained unchanged. - -"Do you know who this Mr. Conrad Howe is?" - -"No one seems to know; his identity has been kept secret most -successfully." - -"Do you suppose it is not his real name?" - -"I have an idea it isn't; it sounds assumed, doesn't it?" - -"I'm not sure. What do you think, Tom? Let me introduce you to Mr. -Annesley,--my cousin, Captain Bolitho, who is just home from India." -They bowed severely to each other. - -"We were discussing," said Connie, cheerfully, "whether Conrad Howe -was a real or a pen name. What do you think?" - -"I don't know anything about these writing Johnnies. I don't see why -they shouldn't use their own names unless they're ashamed of them." - -"Perhaps you don't quite understand, Tom," Miss Bolitho suggested. - -"Perhaps I don't!" said Tom. - -"The climate of India is so trying," Miss Bolitho whispered to -Annesley. - -"It must be," he said, smiling. - -The orchestra glided into a slow movement and the curtain rose. I -need not tell you the story of the play; it was simple, but intensely -human, having in it the philosophy learnt in years of struggle, but -always with hope and faith in the ultimate good beyond. It presented -no problem of the gutter raised to drawing-room standard by -meretricious gilding; it had the singular distinction of being -perfectly clean and also entirely dramatic. As Annesley saw his -work develop before his eyes, and felt how it was taking hold of a -breathless audience, he did not grudge the experience that had gone -to its making or regret that he had kept his ideals unsoiled. When the -curtain fell upon the first act the clamour of applause was the true -expression of genuine emotion aroused by legitimate means. Annesley -felt weak and almost sick. He realised vividly what it all meant to -him; he realised, above all, of what little value it would be if he -failed in the greater matter of his love. Connie leaned towards him; -she had tears in her eyes. - -[Illustration: "THE MANAGER WAS SIMMERING WITH JOY."] - -"This is the kind of thing we've been waiting for," she said. "This is -quite true and human. Conrad Howe should be a happy man to-night." - -"If he is in the house." - -"I hope he is; there's sure to be a call." Annesley's heart thumped. - -"That must be awfully trying to a man," he said. - -"Why don't you write plays of this kind?" - -"It's rather the sort of thing I've been aiming at." - -"Go on aiming at it, then, and you'll succeed." - -"With your encouragement I feel I could do anything." - -"This isn't a bad play, is it?" asked Captain Bolitho. - -"It's splendid," said Connie. - -"The fellow knows something, too. There's not all that confounded -footle that leads you nowhere. The girl's ripping." - -"She is," said Annesley. As a matter of fact she was a careful study -of Miss Bolitho; for that reason Miss Bolitho appeared entirely -unconscious of it. - -"There are only three acts, too," said the Captain; "that's sensible. -Five acts, with long waits between, are killing. I call it taking your -money on false pretences. You don't come to a theatre to hear the band -play." - -When the curtain rose again the house instantly settled into silence, -a sure sign that things were going well. Connie leaned forward with -something of the eagerness of a child; even Captain Bolitho unhinged -himself, as it were, and indicated interest by a slightly curved back. -Annesley began to feel master of himself again; part of the future, -at least, was now safe; how much that means to a man who steps from -poverty to the security of a decent income can only be realised by -those who have been in a like case; the mere fact of being able to pay -a debt with promptitude is capable of affording a very exquisite joy. -But, now that so much was within his grasp, he longed for all; the -horizon of desire, like the horizon of the actual world, always -recedes as we advance; since a few months before he had travelled -innumerable miles towards success; that being reached, there was still -an infinite distance beyond. - -[Illustration: BEFORE THE CURTAIN.] - -In the second act there was a simple love-scene that appeared to -take the audience by surprise; it was direct, touching, convincing. -Annesley noticed that no one laughed, a thing almost unprecedented in -a London theatre when sentiment attitudinises upon the boards. This -gave him a glow of well-earned triumph; he had mentally decided -beforehand that that was the crucial point of the play; when it was -passed he dropped back and closed his eyes. - -"You didn't see all that act," Connie said to him in the interval; -"are you tired,--were you asleep?" - -"I'm neither tired nor sleepy, I heard everything." - -"Didn't you think the love-scene beautiful?" - -"Yes," he said, blushing at his own candour. - -"I didn't think much of that," said Captain Bolitho, "I suppose -because I can't see myself saying pretty things to a girl. It's not -in my line, you know. I feel 'em, but can't express 'em. My notion is -that the girl should make love to me." - -"But you must begin, surely," Connie said. - -"That's just the deuce of it," said the Captain, "I can't." - -Annesley rose. "I must go now," he said, "to another part of the -house. When it's over will you remain here till I come? I've an idea -that I can find out who this Conrad Howe is. May I bring him to see -you if I'm right?" - -"Do, I'll wait for you." He went out into the Strand and lit a -cigarette. The aspect of the world had changed for him; he even saw -cabs and busses with different eyes. Every passenger upon the pavement -seemed a friend, the roar of traffic had new music in it,--the stars -above the housetops looked down with kindly eyes. The cool air put -fresh courage into him, soothed his pulse, made his hope seem real. -Inside the theatre it had been altogether difficult to understand -substantial facts; but out there in the hurry of the street it was -easy enough. There was no doubt about "The Golden Circlet," or Connie -Bolitho, or about himself; they all existed, they all were of the -world. The name of Conrad Howe stared at him from the placards; he -even touched the letters with his fingers to make quite sure. Ten -minutes later he re-entered the theatre by the stage door. - -He met the manager in the wings. That gentleman was simmering with -joy, his congratulations were overwhelming. Annesley bore them with -resignation. - -"There's sure to be a call for 'Author,'" said the manager; "you'll go -to the front, won't you? It's always better; pleases them, you know. -Do you feel nervous? Come to my room and have some champagne. This is -a howling success, Mr. Howe--nothing like it for years. Just listen to -that applause? You've fetched 'em, no doubt about it. Come along and -have that champagne." Annesley went readily enough; the atmosphere of -the theatre was getting on his nerves again. - -When the last curtain fell the pit and gallery got upon their feet and -cheered; the rest of the house was equally decisive if more discreet; -"The Golden Circlet" was a success. And in the midst of the hubbub -Annesley found himself before the curtain, bowing, dazzled by the -footlights and straining his eyes to see one face. And, as though in -obedience to his call, it rose before him, flushed, glowing, with eyes -from which the delight and astonishment had hardly died, and with -lips whose smile seemed tremulous with coming tears. That was the true -moment of his triumph. - -As soon as he could escape he found his way into the empty stalls; one -figure remained. As he approached Connie raised her head. The colour -had died out of her face; she was as pale as Annesley was himself. He -held out his hand. - -"I have brought Conrad Howe to see you," he said. - -"Why didn't you tell me before? It was cruel of you." - -"Perhaps it was because I thought that if I failed I could not bear -that you should know it." - -"That was not true friendship." - -"Did I ever profess friendship for you?" - -She hesitated, and played with her fan. A little wave of colour flowed -back into her cheeks. - -"You see," he went on, "I was pretty much alone in the world, and had -to make my mark in my own way. A few months ago things were very black -with me. I shut myself up and worked." - -"It must have been hard for you," she said, "to cut yourself off from -everything like that." - -"It was hard, I'm not going to pretend it wasn't. But I had hope--not -very bright, perhaps, but still it was enough to keep me from going -under." - -"You had faith in yourself and in your own work." - -"I had more than that. Can you guess what it was?" Their voices -sounded curiously hollow in the empty theatre,--the attendants were -already putting up and covering the seats. - -[Illustration: "'I WISHED TO WIN YOUR LOVE.'"] - -"You hoped to get fame and money?" - -"Yes, but more than either I wished to win your love. Don't kill my -illusion, don't ring down the curtain on my romance, Connie, and leave -me in the dark. Everything I did was for you. You inspired whatever -was good in 'The Golden Circlet.' The thought of you kept my head -above water. I can come to you now without feeling ashamed." - -"You might have come before. You need never have been ashamed. I could -have helped you, oh, so much!" - -"But now that the dark days are over, you won't turn your back on me -and say I don't need your help? I need it more than ever. My love, the -golden circlet is yours if you will take it from me." - -She, gave him both her hands and lifted her face to his. - -"I am your's always," she said, "but I think, perhaps, I loved you -better when you were quite poor, but you never asked me then to love -you. Think of what you've lost!" - -Annesley took her in his arms in spite of a watchful attendant. "Never -mind," he said, "everything's in the future for both of us, never mind -the past. They may even damn my play now if they like." - -At this point Captain Bolitho's voice was heard in loud protest. - -"I tell you," he was saying, "I left a lady in your confounded -theatre, and she hasn't come out. I've had a cab waiting ten minutes." - -"It's Tom," Connie whispered, "I forgot all about him. Poor Tom!" - -"Miss Bolitho's quite safe," said Annesley, "we've just been settling -a little matter of great importance to both of us." - -Captain Bolitho peered into the face of each in the uncertain light -and seemed to understand. - -"The devil you have!" he murmured under his breath. Then he said -aloud, "Anyhow, Connie, I can't keep the cab waiting any longer. I -congratulate you, Mr. Annesley Howe, on your 'Golden Circlet.' That -was a deuced neat little surprise you'd hatched for us. I like your -play, and I daresay I shall like you when I know more of you. Dine -with me next Thursday, will you? Good-night." - - -[Illustration: A MOTHER OF TWO. - -_Photo by Landon, Ealing_] - - - - -MODERN FAMILY SKELETONS. - -BY BEATRICE KNOLLYS. - -_Illustrated by A. S. Hartrick._ - - -A family ghost is a possession almost as respectable as a patent of -nobility, and happy is the house reputed, on satisfactory evidence, to -be haunted by one. There are still a few hereditary ghosts left, and -a few leasehold and freehold ghosts; but these last are often the -property of retired manufacturers and American millionaires who have -bought house and lands, pedigrees, portraits, and family ghosts all -together as they stood. - -In this article it is my intention to be the biographer of a few -ancient and well-born ghosts only, as space will not permit me to -condescend to mere one-generation ghosts, pedigreeless spirits. - -[Illustration: THIS DRUMMER APPEARS WHENEVER A MEMBER OF THE OGILVY -FAMILY IS GOING TO DIE.] - -A. was an Airlie who killed a poor drummer, whose spirit plays a drum -at Cortachy Castle, Kirriemuir, Scotland, whenever any member of the -Ogilvy family is going to die. The origin of this tradition is that -the drummer, for some reason or other, in his lifetime so enraged a -former Lord Airlie that he had him thrust into his own drum and flung -from the window of a tower of Cortachy Castle, though the drummer -threatened to haunt the family ever after if his life were taken. - -He has seemingly kept his word, for in 1849, before the decease of a -Lord Airlie, and again in 1884, before the death of a Lady Airlie, the -beat of the drum was on each occasion distinctly heard by different -guests of the family. One of these guests was a lady staying in the -castle, who was so ignorant of the tradition that, having heard the -beating of a drum while dressing for dinner, she innocently asked her -host--Lord Airlie--at the table who his drummer was. The question made -the peer turn quite white, for the sound had preceded the loss of his -first wife, and it was only a few months after this ominous dinner -party that the second wife died. - -The Combermere family have two ghosts in their record. In Combermere -Abbey there is an old room, once a nursery, and here has been seen the -spirit-figure of a little girl fourteen years old, dressed in a very -quaint frock with an odd little ruff round its neck. It appeared to -a niece of the late Lord Cotton as she was dressing for a very late -dinner one evening in this former nursery, now used as a bedroom. She -had just risen from her toilet-glass to get some article of dress when -she saw the child standing near her bed--a little iron one which stood -out in the room away from the wall--and presently the figure began -running round the bed in a wild, distressed way, with a look of -suffering in its little face, which the lady could see quite plainly -as the full light of her candles fell upon it. - -On mentioning this apparition, her widowed aunt, Lady Cotton, called -to remembrance that the late Lord Cotton had told her of the sudden -death years ago of a favourite little sister of his, with whom he had -been playing, he being also a child then, by running round and round -the bed with her, just the night before--indeed, only a few hours -before, her decease. - -[Illustration: THE COMBERMERE GHOST--A YOUNG GIRL WHO APPEARS TO -FORETELL DEATH.] - -A stranger story still, and one that has not yet, I believe, appeared -in print, is that where quite recently a lady took an amateur -photograph of the drawing-room of a house once inhabited by the late -Lord Combermere--at Brighton I think it was. The lady in question saw, -to her horror and astonishment, visible on the plate, the ghost of -the old peer--a tall man with rather stout face and a -moustache--reproduced sitting in one of the easy chairs of this -drawing-room, though not apparent to the naked eye. - -The Drake ghost--the spirit of Sir Francis Drake--might be termed a -sporting spirit, as it has been frequently seen in different parts of -Devonshire and Cornwall--notably Plymouth--driving a hearse drawn by -headless horses and followed by a pack of headless hounds. - -Two Gordon ghosts live at Fyvie Castle in Scotland. One is a lady -dressed in a magnificent costume of green brocade, who is seen, candle -in hand, passing through a tapestried room of the old castle when any -important event is going to happen to the family. - -The other spirit is by profession a trumpeter, who tradition affirms -haunts the castle in revenge for having during his lifetime been -seized by the press-gang at the instigation of the then Gordon of -Fyvie Castle, who wished to get rid of a rival in the affections of a -pretty daughter of his factor or bailiff. - -The girl, however, remained faithful to the trumpeter, the separation -from him making her die of a broken heart; and now, like the drum of -Cortachy Castle, a trumpet is heard whenever misfortune is in store -for the unlucky Gordons. Ill-fated they certainly are, as beside -being the hereditary owners of unlucky ghosts, they are also under a -hereditary curse--the curse of a "Thomas the Rhymester"--who, when the -gates of the castle long years ago were churlishly closed against him -in the days of wandering minstrelsy, declared that the property should -never descend in a direct line till three "weeping" stones were found; -but up to twenty years ago, when a relative of the writer was staying -at the castle, only one weeping stone had been discovered. - -In Fyvie Castle there is also a sealed room, which is always kept -religiously closed; for the saying is, should the door be ever opened, -the master would die and his wife go blind. Faith and fear have -prevented the saying being proved, as the room has never been opened; -but as regards the curse of "Thomas the Rhymester," it is certainly a -fact that the Gordons have never inherited in a direct line. - -[Illustration: ONE OF THE FYVIE CASTLE GHOSTS IS A TRUMPETER BY -PROFESSION.] - -[Illustration: ONE OF GLAMIS CASTLE'S GHOSTLY INHABITANTS--A TALL, -BEARDED VISITANT IN ARMOUR.] - -There is a perfect spirit vault of ghosts at Glamis Castle, the -ancestral residence of another old and celebrated Scotch family, the -Lyons, the head being the Earl of Strathmore. They also possess a -secret chamber, which is supposed to be connected with some -terrible mystery known only to each owner, the next heir, and the -house-bailiff, of the time being. Even the exact locality of the room -is never revealed to others than those three, and though more than one -heir-apparent has promised to tell the secret to his bosom friends as -soon as the attainment of his twenty-first year entitled him to learn -it; yet after he has known it, a solemn silence on the subject has -been maintained, and beyond the fact that a stonemason is supposed to -be secretly employed to close the approach to this chamber after each -visit, nothing more definite is known. The strangest part of it all -is the evident necessity that each successive house steward should -be made acquainted with this mystery, which looks as if to him -was intrusted the duty of providing food for some person or thing -imprisoned in those walls of fifteen feet thickness. Whether the -mystery is in any way connected with the apparition of a bearded man, -who flits about the castle at night, and hovers over the couches of -children, is not known; perhaps it has something to do with a figure -which appeared at a window to a guest staying at Glamis Castle, and -sitting up late one moonlight night. The owner of the pale face, lit -up with great sorrowful eyes, seemed to wish to attract attention, but -it was suddenly pulled away as if by some superior power. Presently, -horrible shrieks rent the night air, and an hour or so later, the -guest, gazing horror-stricken from the window of the room, saw a dark -huddled figure, like that of an old decrepit woman, carrying a bundle, -pass across the waning moonlight outside, and vanish. - -Perhaps the most interesting legend attached to this magnificent old -castle is the historical tradition that in one of its rooms Duncan was -murdered by Macbeth, "Thane of Glamis," and this Duncan is perchance -the tall bearded ghost in armour who haunts the old square tower, -and on one occasion nearly frightened to death a child who, with -its mother, was on a visit to the castle. The child was asleep in a -dressing-room off its mother's bedroom. She herself was lying awake, -when a cold blast extinguished her light suddenly, but not the -night-light in the dressing-room, from whence, immediately after, -proceeded a shriek. The mother rushed in and found her child awake, -and in an agony of fear, because the tall mailed figure she herself -had seen pass into the dressing-room had come to the side of the cot -and leant over the face of the child. As a matter of fact, tradition -and truth are so mixed up with all the stories connected with -this very ancient fortress-palace, that it is difficult, in fact -impossible, to know what to believe and what to disbelieve. - -[Illustration: "WHILE SHE PRAYED THE SPIRIT APPEARED AND SAID, 'TAKE -UP THE CANDLE AND FOLLOW ME.'"] - -A more peaceable spirit is the Townshend ghost of Rainham, in Norfolk, -commonly known as the "Brown Lady." She is described as tall and -stately, dressed in a rich brown brocade, with a sort of coif on her -head. The features are clearly defined, but where the eyes should be -are nothing but hollows. She is seen walking about the old mansion -every now and then, though no reason can be discovered to account for -her restlessness. Lord Charles Townshend, on being asked by a lady if -he also believed in the apparition, replied, "I cannot but believe, -for she ushered me into my room last night." - -The Lonsdale spirit seems to have been as rowdy in death as it was -during life when it inhabited the body of Jemmy Lowther, well known as -the "bad Lord Lonsdale." For years after his decease the inhabitants -of Lowther Hall and the neighbourhood were kept in a constant state -of excitement by continual disturbances in the house, noises in the -stables, and the galloping across country of Lord Lonsdale's phantom -"coach and six." - -The Powys Castle ghost was a much more amiable spirit, and of quite a -superior character to the devil-may-care spirit of Jemmy Lowther. His -object was benevolent, and his manners were well-bred and gracious -when he appeared. His last visit was to a poor pious workwoman, who, -in the absence of the Herberts from Powys Castle, was purposely put by -the servants in the haunted bedroom, a handsomely furnished apartment -with a boarded floor, a big bedstead in one corner, and two sash -windows. A good fire was made up in the room, and a chair and a table -with a large lighted candle on it was placed in front of the fire. -She had just sat down in the chair to read her Bible, when to her -astonishment in walked a gentleman. He wore a gold-laced hat and -waistcoat, with coat and the rest of his attire to correspond. He went -over to one of the sash windows, and putting an elbow on the sill, -rested his face on the palm of his hand. She supposed afterwards -that he stood quietly thus to encourage her to speak, but she was too -frightened. Then he walked out of the room, and the poor woman, rising -from her chair, fell on her knees and began to pray. Whilst praying, -the spirit appeared again, walked round the room, and came close -behind her. He again departed, and again appeared behind her as she -still knelt. She said, "Pray, sir, who are you, and what do you want?" - -It lifted its finger and said-- - -"Take up the candle and follow me, and I will tell you." - -She did as she was bid, and followed him into a very small room, -where, tearing up a board, he pointed to an iron box underneath, -and then to a crevice in the wall where lay hidden a key. These he -commanded were to be sent to the Earl of Powys, then in London. This -was done, though history does not relate what the box contained; but -it was known that this poor Welsh spinning woman was provided for -liberally by the Powys family till she died about the beginning of -this century. - -Though one does not associate ghosts with such a city of excitement, -life, and renovation as London, yet it does possess several haunted -houses. One belonging to a present-day peer, and situated in Park -Lane, is said to be haunted by fashionable spirits having a dance. -Some people can only hear the buzz of their voices and the swish -of dresses and the tap of feet, while others can see the figures -themselves talking and dancing. - -Yes, there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in -our philosophy. - -[Illustration: LETTING THE FAMILY SKELETONS OUT OF THE CUPBOARD.] - - - - -A ROSE AT LAST - -BY - -CLIFTON BINGHAM - -[Illustration] - - It was only a rosetree slender - On a dingy window sill, - In the heart of the busy City, - With its mingled good and ill. - And the Angels must have seen it, - Unwilling to let it die, - For it thrived and bore a rose-bud - Under that darksome sky! - - A white face watched it daily - With joy in its childish eyes, - As she played alone in the garret - Under the city skies: - It brightened the dingy windows, - Each night as she crept to bed, - Though hungry and loveless and lonely, - "It will soon be a rose," she said. - - There at the window one morning, - The bud was a rose so fair, - But the garret was still and silent, - There was no little white face there! - It was smiling in happy slumber, - Its pain and loneliness past, - For the Angels who loved her were saying, - That the bud was a rose at last! - - - - -HOW SANDOW MADE ME STRONG - -A REMARKABLE PHYSICAL TRANSFORMATION. - - -It was a question of going to South Africa or running the risk of a -short life in England; health dictated the question, and the answer -depended on many things. Someone suggested Sandow's School of Physical -Culture as a compromise; and finally England, backed up by financial -and other reasoning, carried the day. - -I was a puny youth, weak of spirit and frail of frame, when I first -visited Sandow's muscle factory in St. James's Street, London, -and said that I had come to be made into a strong and healthy -Englishman--to obtain a fresh lease of life if possible. - -Sandow fingered my arms and chest as he might a prize ox, and remarked -that I should make an admirable subject for his purpose; he liked -pulling folks out of their graves. Whereupon I imagined I should be -passed into the gymnasium to swing a dumb-bell for an hour or so, -and be invited to drop in again when I was next that way. But I was -mistaken. Had my object been to enlist in Her Majesty's forces, the -examinations and tests I was subjected to could not have been more -extensive or peculiar. I was sounded, measured, weighed, pounded and -questioned, the results being solemnly entered into a big ledger, as -though it might all be used as evidence against me should the need -ever arise. Weight 120 lbs., chest measurement 32 in., height 5 ft. -6-1/2 in., though the latter is immaterial, as Sandow does not bargain -to make one grow in that direction when nature considers her duty -done. - -[Illustration: ON ENTERING SANDOW'S SCHOOL.] - -[Illustration: TEN MONTHS AFTER. - -(_From Photographs._)] - -Though I felt ashamed of the figures myself, they did not seem -to affect my burly interrogators in any way, and the examination -proceeded. Had I indigestion, and did I smoke? I confessed to a little -of either weakness of the flesh. Was there any particular ailment in -the family, and would I take a full breath and blow down this tube? -As I did so, a little clock-like machine ticked merrily away, till it -registered that my pair of lungs--or "one and a decimal," as a blunt -old doctor had once informed me--could contain at full pressure 185 -cubic inches of air--a poor record, be it said. - -[Illustration: BEING SOUNDED.] - -[Illustration: "THE LITTLE MACHINE TICKED MERRILY AWAY."] - -[Illustration: HEIGHT AND WEIGHT.] - -Next came dumb-bell and weight tests, careful note being made of the -exact number of pounds I could lift with one hand, two hands, hold -at arm's length, and support above my head. The record ran thus:--One -hand lift, 65 lbs.; at arm's length, 18 lbs.; raised from shoulders -(1) 40 lbs., (2) 35 lbs. each. Bar-bell raised above head, 85 lbs. So -the examination ended, and when my photograph had been taken as a -sort of example "before trying," I was free to join the little army of -health-and-muscle seekers whenever I chose. - -A very mixed army it was. Stern-visaged men were there going through -the exercises as seriously as if life itself depended on them; -sprightly veterans taking again to regular exercise, so much missed -since they joined the half-pays; middle-aged men making up for the -negligences of earlier days; clerks and students of all kinds going -into strict training in order to be in form for the cricket and -running season; and finally a goodly sprinkling of puny youths working -hard to attain the weight and chest measurement necessary to give -them another chance at Sandhurst or Woolwich, where they had just been -declined "for physical reasons." - -The display was not without its humour. A plump stockbroker is a -common and natural enough sight in the city, but he forms a different -spectacle as, minus the glossy hat and black coat of his calling, he -energetically whirls a pair of dumb-bells in the frantic endeavour to -exchange his superfluous avoirdupois for sinew and muscle, especially -when his immediate neighbour, a very lean littérateur, is performing -the same evolutions with the secret hope of putting on flesh. - -It would require a keen eye, supported by a good imagination, to -discover any outward visible sign of the "strong man" about the -various instructors of Sandow's school, dressed as they are in -ordinary attire, to say nothing of fashionable collars and the latest -thing in neckties. Any one of them might have strolled in from Bond -Street, mistaking the place for the club, yet any one of them would -think nothing of snatching up a 100 lb. dumb-bell and raising it aloft -with the ease with which most people might perform a similar feat with -an umbrella. - -When I presented myself at the gymnasium for my first course of -instruction I was handed a pair of dumb-bells weighing not more than -3 lbs. each. I protested that I had been in the habit of using bells -three times as heavy. It did not matter, I was informed,--lead pencils -would be almost as serviceable, providing I concentrated my whole -attention on each exercise in turn. - -It must not be supposed, however, that dumb-bells do not play an -important part in Sandow's system. On the contrary, as will be seen -from the photographs herewith, they figure in numerous exercises, but -their weight is practically immaterial. They usually vary according to -the physical condition of those using them. - -Having grasped his "three-pounders," the student is made to stand in -an attitude of ease, the inner side of his arms fronting outwards. His -very first step on the road to muscular development is to alternately -bend each arm at the elbow, bringing the dumb-bell close to the -shoulder. This has to be repeated some twenty or thirty times, to the -measured "One, two, three," of the instructor. - -The same thing is then gone through with the arms turned the other -way, so that the knuckles instead of the finger-tips are brought up to -the shoulders. Next the arms are extended outwards in a straight -line, each being bent in turn at the elbow, and the dumb-bell brought -immediately above the shoulder. And here comes the student's first -difficulty; for in extending the arms each time it is necessary -to keep them straight and rigid in order that the muscles may be -benefited by the strain. It is amusing to watch various pairs of arms -gradually drooping as this exercise proceeds. - -Altogether the dumb-bells are used in about twenty different -positions, each affecting a different set of muscles. There is the -lunge, for instance, exercising both arms and legs. First standing -at ease, the pupil takes a stride forward and strikes out alternately -with his left and right, as though an adversary awaited the blow. -Some twenty-five or thirty such lunges, however, are calculated to -transform the most bellicose among Sandow's disciples into members of -the Peace Society. - -[Illustration: LIFTING 70 LBS. WITH TWO HANDS.] - -The wrists are strengthened in this fashion: once more extending the -arms in a line with the shoulders the pupil now holds the dumb-bells -by the ends, instead of in the usual way, and with a circular motion -of the wrists revolves the bells first from right to left, then from -left to right. - -[Illustration: THE BAR-BELL TEST--SUPPORTING 85 LBS.] - -Next comes what the flippant call the "see-saw" motion. With the -inevitable dumb-bell in each hand the student stands erect; the -see-saw consists of nothing more remarkable than bending the upper -portion of the body from side to side, without moving the lower limbs. -These are cared for in the next exercise. Lying at full length on the -ground, the pupil actually proceeds to kick his legs in the air! Not -particularly graceful, perhaps, but highly beneficial, it is claimed, -to the "hinges" at the knees and hips. What this motion does for the -lower limbs, the next does for the upper part of the body. Lying at -full length on the ground as before, and keeping the legs perfectly -stiff, the student raises his head and shoulders from the ground, and -with a quick movement swings forward until his body is bent almost -double, then returning slowly to the former position. The dumb-bells -are now forsaken for a time. The lesson to be learned is to support -the body on the hands and toes, and to alternately lower and raise it -by respectively bending the elbows and straightening the arms, taking -care not to touch the ground with any part of the body. It looks and -sounds easy enough; so it is, to do it once, but quite another thing -to keep it up in quick succession until the instructor sees fit to cry -"halt!" which is timed, it seems to the student, specially to remind -him of the penultimate straw and the camel's back. - -[Illustration: RAISING 40 LBS. WITH ONE HAND.] - -Dumb-bells are now resumed, this time attached to stout elastic -strands, these in turn being fixed to the wall. Exercises of much the -same kind as before are gone through, except that the strain on the -muscles is now greater, seeing that almost every movement involves -stretching the rubber bands to their fullest extent, and allowing them -to return to their natural state slowly, not with a snap. The -same principle is applied to the development of the legs and neck, -ingenious devices in the shape of "harness"--forming an interesting -branch of the system--being requisitioned for the purpose. In each -case the elastics have to be stretched as much as possible, the strain -being in turn centred on sets of muscles that could be reached by no -other method. - -[Illustration: THE LUNGE.] - -If after having gone through all these exercises the pupil should pine -to develop his knowledge of Physiology as well as his frame, he may -learn that this little action affects the latissimus dorsi, that that -tiny movement seeks out the neglected deltoid, that another bend -of the body, insignificant though it may seem, means much to the -pectoralis major, and so forth. But the gentle student usually prefers -not to burden his brain with these things, and in this respect he is -perhaps not unlike the gentle reader. So no more shall be inflicted. - -[Illustration: THE FIRST STEP.] - -Every pupil has to attend Sandow's School at least twice a week, and -when there to repeat each of the exercises named some twenty -times, though this number is a kind of moveable feast, advancing or -decreasing with his condition, reaching as high as sixty and as low -as ten. Beyond that he is supposed to practise every day at home, -and regularity in this greatly facilitates the development, just as -home-lessons assist a schoolboy's education. There, probably, -the simile ends; certainly the majority of Sandow's followers do -conscientiously work out of school hours. - -When students have been got into trim generally--this takes about -a month--they are allowed to add weight-lifting, with and without -"harness," to their regular exercises. To do so before the body was -in a supple condition might result in serious strains occasionally. A -still further stage is practice on the Roman pillar. This consists of -hanging backwards suspended from the knees, and from that rising to an -upright position, lifting with the body a bar-bell weighing anything -between 30 lbs. and 120 lbs. - -[Illustration: "WHAT THE FLIPPANT CALL THE 'SEE-SAW' MOTION."] - -Every few months examinations are held, the same tests and -measurements as on entering being gone through, and the results put -down side by side in the ledger, so that one's weak points can be seen -at a glance and receive particular attention forthwith. - -[Illustration: "NOT PARTICULARLY GRACEFUL, BUT HIGHLY BENEFICIAL."] - -Personally, I had not been in the school a few weeks before I began to -feel its benefits. The first signs were the arrival of an appetite and -the disappearance of indigestion and insomnia. Gradually I exchanged -loose flesh for firm muscle; my weight increased; my chest measurement -advanced. My weight-lifting crept up by "fives" and "tens," till at -the end of three months I could raise 70 lbs. with one hand, 350 lbs. -with two, and 500 lbs. in "harness," all with comparative ease. - -[Illustration: "UNTIL HIS BODY IS BENT ALMOST DOUBLE."] - -Every time I blew into the little lung-testing machine I felt -apprehensive of its breaking or getting out of order under the -strain. My course of instruction commenced ten months ago; at the last -examination, held recently, my record ran:--One hand lift 130 lbs. (an -increase of 65 lbs.). Held at arm's length 35 lbs. (increase 17 lbs.). -Raised from shoulders, one hand, 90 lbs. (increase 50 lbs.), both -hands, 160 lbs. (increase 90 lbs.). Raised above head 175 lbs. -(increase 90 lbs.). Weight, 10 st. 0 lb. (increase 1 st. 6 lb.); chest -measurement, 36 inches (increase 4 inches). Lift with "harness" 800 -lbs.; without 550 lbs. Perhaps it should be added that this result -was not achieved by irregular attendance at the school or occasional -practice at home. I worked diligently every day on rising in the -morning, and before retiring at night, and I fancy I have no need to -go to South Africa now. - -[Illustration: FOR THE WRISTS.] - -A little about the St. James's School itself. Incredible though it may -seem, it is not a limited company. Every one connected with the place, -from the manager downwards, has to go through the system. That is -why the door is opened to you by a young Hercules whose clothes are -bursting over him, and who, rumour says, is afraid to take them off -o' nights lest he should never be able to get into them again; that -is why, if you call early or late enough, you will see a muscular -charwoman scrubbing the front steps to the quick time of "Sandow's -March," for even she is not exempt. There is, by the way, a special -course of training for lady pupils. - -[Illustration: NOT SO EASY--] - -Every one connected with the place participates in the profits, -which must be large, from the head-manager down to the two humbler -individuals just mentioned. That, doubtless, is why the door is always -opened to you with commendable alacrity, and may account for the fact -that the front steps are the whitest in St. James's Street, and that -the brasswork about the establishment positively dazzles the eyes with -its gleam. - -[Illustration: --AS IT LOOKS.] - -Of course Sandow has his "secret." It is that he does not believe in -developing one part of the body at the expense of another. His aim is -not to turn out pupils with runners' legs or rowers' arms, but of -good physique generally. If a runner enters the school his legs are -naturally better developed than the average. They will, therefore, -require less attention than usual, and more will be given to other -parts of his body. And so forth. - -[Illustration: IT IS THE CONSTANT--] - -The exercises are so devised that no set of muscles in the body is -overlooked. In the ordinary course they are all developed together, at -much the same rate; but this, of course, cannot always be adhered to. -It frequently happens that a pupil desires chest expansion above all -else, in which case he will devote himself primarily to the exercises -specially framed to bring about that result. In several cases a couple -of inches in the way of chest measurement has stood between pupils at -Sandow's and commissions in Her Majesty's army. - -Much depends, Sandow avers, on mind concentration. - -[Illustration: --STRAIN THAT--] - -"It is of little use," he says, "going through the exercises -mechanically. As each one is performed, it should occupy the whole -attention. Merely swinging a dumb-bell the regulation number of times -will do no good. It should be regarded as serious work, and one's -heart should be in it. It has not been my aim to produce what are -known as strong men; it is a comparatively easy task to pick out a few -men exceptionally endowed by nature, and train them until they attain -great proficiency in particular feats of strength and activity. It may -be considered somewhat ambitious, but my honest desire is nothing less -than to permanently raise the standard of physique in the whole race, -and to restore, as far as possible, the old types of physical -strength and beauty, for the loss of which civilization is so largely -responsible." - -One naturally asks: What is the age limit at which physical -development necessarily ceases? Perhaps Sandow's school-register best -answers the question. His pupils range from fourteen to seventy-three. -The gentleman of the latter age felt so rejuvenated after one week's -attendance that he promptly put himself down for a whole year's -course, and has since declared his intention of "never leaving school" -until old age compels him. - -[Illustration: --DEVELOPS THE MUSCLES.] - -It is interesting to recall how Sandow first came before the public as -an exponent of strength. Some nine years ago it was the practice of a -"strong man" then performing at a London theatre of varieties to -issue nightly from the stage a challenge to the world generally to -accomplish any of his feats, which included the lifting of great -weights, the snapping of steel chains, and the bending of iron bars. -One night, to everyone's surprise, the challenge was accepted by a -member of the audience, and a young man stepped upon the stage in -immaculate evening dress. When this was removed the customary attire -of the stage "strong man" was revealed. It was Sandow, then unknown. - -[Illustration: LIFTING 350 LBS. WITHOUT HARNESS.] - -Amid the wildest excitement he performed every one of the wonderful -feats. The next day a new "strong man" had dawned. - -[Illustration: WEIGHT-LIFTING ON THE ROMAN PILLAR.] - -It is Sandow's ambition to start schools of muscular development in -all the principal cities and towns in the kingdom, and if they -become as popular as those in London, there is hope for the country, -physically, yet. The tendency of the Englishman, since he acquired the -habit of living in towns, has been to take too little exercise. -Roast beef and Sandow may do more for the race than the former ever -accomplished alone. - -[Illustration: LIFTING 500 LBS. WITH HARNESS.] - -A. E. J. - -[Illustration] - - - - -THE STONE RIDER! - -A SHORT STORY OF THE WEIRD. - -BY NELLIE K. BLISSETT; ILLUSTRATED BY MAX COWPER. - - -It was a dull day in early spring, and the wind in the pine forest -behind the Castle of Salitz was making a melancholy moaning. In one -of the deep window-seats of the castle I sat, with a book in my hand, -looking down at the drowned landscape and the swollen river. I had -come to visit that mysterious personage, Count Siebach von Salitz, -whose extraordinary powers of thought-reading and prophecy would -have brought him in several fortunes had he chosen to use them -professionally. As it was, he was the object of much interest, and -not a little awe, in half the capitals of Europe; and it was with some -curiosity that I accepted his invitation to his Hungarian estate. - -So far nothing in the least peculiar had occurred to me--a -disappointment I was rather inclined to resent. - -Siebach's step disturbed my meditations. I turned and saw him coming -down the passage--a tall, gaunt man, with a haggard face and evil -eyes. But if Siebach's personal appearance was not prepossessing, his -charm of manner was so great that when you knew him well you forgot -the small, cruel eyes, the sneering mouth, the curious mixture of -power and cunning which characterized his countenance. His voice, too, -was singularly beautiful, and atoned for many things. - -He smiled as he came up and seated himself beside me. - -"If you admire the view, you shouldn't look so solemn, Bazarac," he -said; "and if you don't, and are bored, shall we go for a ride? Or -will you come and look at my study?--you haven't seen it yet, and it -is worth seeing." - -[Illustration: "HAGGARD FACE AND EVIL EYES."] - -"Everything here is," I answered, as I rose and followed him -downstairs. - -He laughed. - -"That is the disadvantage of being born a Siebach of Salitz--there is -no merit in possessing perfection. It is merely inherited property. -Don't knock your head against this doorway--it is low. That's right!" - -We had passed under a low archway into a long room panelled with black -oak. There was a table, littered with papers, near the window, and -over the hearth hung the portrait of a young man whose countenance, -particularly about the mouth, distinctly resembled that of Siebach. - -"How like you that portrait is!" I exclaimed. - -He looked at it for a moment as though weighing my remark carefully in -his mind. - -"Do you think so?" he said at last. "It is my poor cousin Franz." - -"I didn't know you had one." - -"He is dead. He was drowned whilst we were bathing in the river -beneath. I was with him at the time, but I could not save him. His -body was never recovered--it was an awful affair. He was only seven -and twenty." - -"Younger than you?" - -"Oh, no--older. He was the heir. Poor Franz!" - -I looked at the portrait with increased interest, and Siebach gazed at -it too. There was a disagreeable expression on his face. - -"It is a fine portrait," I said. - -"Very--an Auberthal. You know Auberthal, of course? A splendid -painter. Singular, now, I forgot that he will arrive here to-day. He -has a long-standing engagement to visit me." - -I was very glad to hear it, for I had known Auberthal when he was a -mere boy, studying in Garcia's "Atelier Espagnol." We had seen a great -deal of each other, and I had liked him exceedingly. Although Siebach -was very entertaining, I did not altogether _trust_ him; a solitude -only relieved by his presence did not at the moment appear alluring. - -I expressed my pleasure, and began to walk about the study, admiring -the family portraits, of which there were a great number. Under one of -them I noticed a curtain drawn across the wall, and, supposing it to -conceal a picture or a cabinet, I very innocently put out my hand as -if to draw it on one side. - -[Illustration: "TALKING TOGETHER IN THE FOREST."] - -A sharp exclamation from Siebach stopped me. I dropped the curtain and -turned to him. - -"What is the matter?" - -He recovered his self-possession immediately. - -"Nothing. I was cutting a pencil and the knife slipped. Oh, it is only -a scratch!" - -"What is behind this curtain?" I asked, returning to my former -occupation. - -He did not answer at once. Then he laughed, a trifle uneasily. - -"A family superstition--nonsense if you like. You can look." - -I drew it accordingly. The curtain covered a large recess, and in this -recess stood the life-sized statue of a horse in white marble, bearing -a man in armour upon his back. The singular part about this equestrian -group was, that whilst the horse was stone, the trappings and the -man's armour were real. - -"That is an odd idea," I remarked. - -"What, the armour? Oh, it belonged to an ancestor of mine. Of course -there is a stone figure underneath to match the horse." - -"The vizor of his helmet is down. Why don't you raise it? It would be -far more effective." - -He laughed again more uneasily than ever. - -"My dear Bazarac, 'let sleeping men lie' is an excellent transposition -of the old proverb. This gentleman is supposed to 'walk'--or rather -ride. In other words, he is the family apparition. He is supposed to -ride about the castle at night." - -"What a very unpleasant idea!" - -"Do you think so? Well, it is sufficiently ghastly, I admit." - -"Have you ever seen him?" - -"No, but I have often fancied I heard a horse snorting and trampling -about the passages. At this time of year he is often heard. The -servants tell odd stories about him, but I have never encountered him -myself." - -"It would be an interesting encounter." - -Siebach shuddered visibly. - -"I think not," he said, in an altered tone. - -I looked up at him. His face was very pale, and his shifty glance -avoided mine. - -"You are afraid of him," I said, laughing. - -An odd light blazed for a second in his eyes. He had a pair of gloves -in his hand, having just come in from a walk. Suddenly, without any -warning, he flung one glove full at the mailed face of the Stone -Rider. The armour rattled, and the glove fell back at Siebach's feet. -He picked it up and looked me in the face. - -"You see whether I am afraid," he said, haughtily. - -I did not understand his manner, but I saw that it would be better to -change the subject at once, and avoid it for the future. So I asked -him at what time Auberthal would arrive, and we talked of other -things. - -Auberthal came in time for dinner--a little round man with a face all -brown skin and black beard, and extraordinarily bright eyes. I should -never have recognized in him the slip of a boy whose genius had -electrified the "Atelier Espagnol," but he was as pleasant as ever. We -passed a very enjoyable evening, and retired in due course to bed. - -From the moment I had dropped the curtain across the recess in -the study, I had never given another thought to the Stone Rider. -Auberthal's arrival had successfully banished reflection on that -somewhat peculiar incident. I undressed, and got into bed, and, as I -was not sleepy, began to read. I suppose this was at about half-past -eleven, and I went on reading steadily for over half an hour, at the -end of which period I laid down my book and prepared to blow out my -candles, when a sound arrested my attention, and I paused to listen. -The castle had long been silent, and everyone had retired to rest. Yet -there was a distinct sound as of someone moving about the corridors -under me. - -My room was in the second story of the building, at the head of the -grand staircase--an immensely broad and imposing affair of beautifully -inlaid marble. The corridors, too, were all marble paved, so that the -slightest sound was noticeable in them. I listened, and distinctly -heard the noise, whatever its cause, approach the foot of the -staircase. Then it paused for a moment, and there followed a curious -sound of scrambling, as of a large and somewhat unwieldy object coming -up the stairs. - -By this time my curiosity was thoroughly excited. I got out of bed -and went to the door. As the room was very long, and the door at the -farther end of it, this was a decidedly better post for listening -purposes. I had not been there a second before I heard the -unmistakable rattle of armour, and the snuffling sound a horse would -make after any unusual exertion. A wild idea flashed across my mind, -and I pressed closer to the door. - -This was the Stone Rider! - -The sounds came nearer and nearer until they were just outside. Then -came another pause, and a heavy sigh--almost a groan--but whether from -horse, or rider, I could not decide. Then the horse was turned round, -and clattered and rattled down the shallow steps of the staircase, and -away down the corridors, until all was silent once more. - -All this time, though greatly excited, I had not felt the slightest -sensation of fear; but now that all was still such a feeling of terror -came over me that I lay awake for hours scarcely able to breathe, -listening for the return of this midnight visitant. But he did not -come, and towards morning I fell asleep. - -[Illustration: "IT IS GOING DOWN THE CORRIDOR TOWARDS THE STUDY."] - -At breakfast I observed that Auberthal, who had been very lively the -previous evening, seemed silent and depressed. Siebach, too, looked -rather yellower and thinner than usual. I enquired if they had not -slept well. - -"Oh, yes," answered Siebach, hastily, "I have slept very well indeed, -thank you." - -Auberthal said nothing for a moment. - -"You don't look particularly brilliant yourself, Bazarac," he remarked -presently. - -"Somebody was racketing about the staircase last night and disturbed -me," I replied carelessly. "Didn't you hear it, Auberthal? Your room -is next mine. I wondered whether the noise would keep you awake." - -Siebach looked up at me sharply and seemed about to speak. But he -thought better of it, and returned to his breakfast. - -"Yes," said Auberthal, quietly. "Something certainly kept me awake. -That family ghost of yours, Siebach, I expect--the Stone Rider." - -"I heard nothing," returned the Count, stolidly. - -But Auberthal was not to be silenced. - -"No? That is odd. I heard him distinctly. He stopped outside my door; -and something groaned. It gave me a peculiar sensation. What makes him -walk, Siebach--I suppose there's a legend?" - -"Oh, there are lots of legends," answered Siebach, offhandedly. "One -says that the Ritter von Salitz in the thirteenth century caused -a statue of himself, on his favourite charger, to be set up in the -courtyard of the castle, and when he took prisoners of war, he chained -them to the Stone Rider and flogged them to death. When he was about -sixty he married for the second time. His wife was very young and very -beautiful, and had been betrothed to his eldest son, whom he hated, -and banished from the castle. One day he found his son and his wife -talking together in the forest. He seized them, had them lashed to the -statue, and directed his men to flog them to death, whilst he himself -stood by and derided them. However, that was the last atrocity he -perpetrated, for he soon after went mad, and died. And his spirit is -doomed to ride the stone horse for ever." - -"A sufficiently horrible story, at any rate," remarked Auberthal, -composedly. "Is the horse in your study the original of the -courtyard." - -"Yes. It has been most carefully preserved, and handed down from -generation to generation." - -"No wonder it roams about the castle at night," I said. - -"That is mere nonsense," returned Siebach, irritably. - -I said nothing more; but after breakfast I found an opportunity of -speaking to Auberthal alone. - -"I should like to investigate this matter," I said. "Will you help me, -Auberthal?" - -He laughed. - -"Certainly; but I don't believe in ghosts, you know, Bazarac. I trust -you don't?" - -[Illustration: "FOR A FEW MOMENTS THE RIDER REMAINED MOTIONLESS."] - -"I have seen some very strange things in connection with ghosts; at -all events, will you keep up to-night, and follow the Stone Rider with -me?" - -"If it will afford you any amusement." - -"Don't speak to Siebach about it, then. He evidently does not care for -the subject," and I related to him the incident of the glove. - -He looked rather grave. - -"I am sorry to hear it," he said, when I had finished. "There is -insanity in his family, you know--I don't think his brain is what it -was. And once he went off his head altogether." - -"When?" - -"Soon after his cousin was drowned. He saw it happen. That was enough -to drive anyone mad, perhaps. But he was always queer." - -"Then, to-night--?" - -"Yes. When he gets to the bottom of the staircase again we will follow -him." - -The day passed off very quietly, and nothing more was said about the -statue. We went to our rooms at the usual time, and I sat down to -wait. At a few minutes past twelve I heard the noise beginning. It -came up the staircase as it had done before, and paused for a moment -outside the door. Then I again heard the sigh, or groan, and the -clattering down the stairs. I opened my door and found Auberthal -already on the landing. - -"Make haste," he said. "It is going down the corridor towards the -study." - -[Illustration: "HE GRIPPED MY ARM."] - -We rushed down, and along the passage, the rattling going in front of -us. But we were too slow. When we reached the study, the green -baize curtain was drawn, and everything was perfectly still. After -a moment's hesitation I pushed back the curtain. There sat the Stone -Rider, immovable as ever, mailed and erect. - -"He looks quite harmless," I said, doubtfully. - -Auberthal bent down and held the candle closer. On the side of the -horse were great dark stains, and the armour glimmered redly in -the flame. The painter put his hand on one big patch, and drew back -quickly. - -"I could swear it was wet," he whispered. "Let us go!" - -We returned, and I drew him into my room. - -"It's very odd!" - -"Very!" He held up his hand. "Do you see?" - -"Good Heavens!" I gasped, "it's all red!" - -"With blood," he said, solemnly. - - * * * * * - -For some days neither Auberthal nor I spoke of our adventure with the -Stone Rider. But at last, one evening before dinner he came to me in -my room. - -"I shall go down into the study to-night," he said, "and see what -really happens. Will you come too?" - -"Yes. The noise at night still goes on?" - -"Regularly every night. Bazarac, I mean to get to the bottom of this -mystery." - -"All right. I shall be charmed if you can prove the whole thing a -hoax, but--" - -"But what?" - -"I don't think you will." - -He considered for a moment. - -"I don't think I shall either," he said, as he left me. - -Siebach was unusually brilliant and amusing at dinner. He kept us at -table long after our usual hour, and when we at last got away to our -rooms there was barely time to let the castle become quiet, and get -back to the study, before twelve o'clock. However, we accomplished the -feat, seated ourselves near together, blew out the candle, and waited -for the ghost to move. - -For some time everything was silent. Then, all at once, the room -became strangely illuminated. One after another the chairs, and -tables, and pictures grew out of the gloom, lit up with a pale, -peculiar light. And at last the curtain was drawn aside--the horse -shook himself, and snorted--the armour rattled--and the Stone Rider -rode slowly out into the middle of the room. - -The supernatural radiance streamed from him--it issued from the closed -bars of his helmet, from the steel breastplate, from the joints of the -rusted gorget. It seemed to grow brighter every moment, till, almost -dazzled, I turned my attention to the horse. - -I did not at first notice the stain on his side which Auberthal had -observed. But as I looked at him, I saw that a dark stream began to -trickle down the whiteness of the marble. It dripped from a great dent -in the breastplate of the Rider--dripped slowly and steadily over the -horse's neck, and rolled down to the floor. - -For a few moments the rider remained motionless; then struck his spurs -into the marble flanks of his steed, and they moved away. The light -went with them through the open door, and Auberthal sprang up and -rushed after them. - -I saw the Stone Rider turn in his saddle and look back as we raced -after him; and a flash of flame seemed to shoot out from between the -helmet-bars. On they went--clattering, clashing, rattling through the -stone passages, and we after them. They reached the staircase--the -Rider rose in his stirrups and urged the horse up. The pace was too -fast--the horse slipped, plunged--and finally recovered himself, just -as an ordinary horse might do, and halted. - -But the Rider's balance was destroyed. He swayed in the high -saddle--his arms went wildly into the air--and he crashed forward, -and fell, with a horrible rattling sound, at our feet. The clasps that -fastened the gorget and breastplate burst--the helmet rolled away--and -on the pavement before us lay a skeleton! - -For a time we were too stunned to speak. Then Auberthal uttered an -exclamation of horror and looked up. - -Half way up the staircase stood Siebach von Salitz. His face was -ghastly white--his eyes were widened with an expression of awful -terror--his hands were stretched out as though grasping the air. He -stood motionless for some moments, staring into vacancy; then his -rigid expression relaxed, his arms dropped to his sides, and he came -down the stairs. - -"What has happened?" he enquired. - -"That!" said Auberthal, bluntly, pointing to the skeleton. - -Siebach bent over it for a moment. Then he kicked it contemptuously -aside. - -"Somebody has been playing a practical joke," he remarked. - -Auberthal coughed. - -"I have not, nor has Bazarac. Who could have done it?" - -"Do you suppose I have?" - -Siebach seemed indignant. Auberthal looked at him very quietly. - -"I do not suppose anything," he said, "but there is the skeleton, and -there is--" - -He turned to look for the horse, but it was gone. - -"There was the horse," he concluded, "and to-morrow morning I leave -for Paris. Good-night!" - -He disappeared up the staircase, leaving me face to face with Siebach. - -"What does he mean?" - -[Illustration: "I RECOGNISED ONE OF SIEBACH'S SERVANTS."] - -"I really don't know, Siebach." - -"Do you intend to leave for Paris, too?" - -"I am very sorry," I said, "but my nerves are really not equal to this -sort of thing. Good-night, Siebach!" - -He surveyed me with an odd expression; then, suddenly, he gripped my -arm. - -"Do you think--" he almost gasped in my ear--"do you think that he -suspects anything?" - -I shook him off. - -"Good heavens, Siebach! What should he suspect? Can't you explain this -horrible thing?" - -He recovered his self-command almost immediately, and smiled feebly. - -"No. I can't," he said. "Am I to explain all my family skeletons, -Bazarac?" - -"Not if you do not wish." - -And I left him standing by the skeleton of the Stone Rider. - - * * * * * - -For some years I did not come across Count Siebach von -Salitz--neither, I am afraid, did I wish to do so. Of the Stone -Rider--who had proved to be no stone at all--I often thought, but -at last I hardly regarded the incident as anything more than the -recollection of a bad dream. Auberthal and I met frequently, and -often discussed our adventure; and I believed that he had suspicions -concerning Siebach which I did not care to share. But one evening -as we sat in the "Atelier Espagnol"--Auberthal and myself--someone -knocked at the door and came hastily in. I recognised one of Siebach's -servants. - -"What is it?" I asked. - -"Will M. Bazarac or M. Auberthal come to my master at once? He is very -ill at the Hôtel ----." - -We both rose and looked at each other, and Auberthal slipped his arm -through mine. - -"We had better go together." - -So we went. The Hôtel ---- was close by. In ten minutes we were in -Siebach's bedroom. - -[Illustration: "HIS EYES BLAZED WITH FEVERISH LIGHT."] - -He lay in bed, looking thinner and more haggard than ever. His eyes -blazed with feverish light, and he beckoned us eagerly to approach. - -"There is not much time," he said, speaking in a weak, strained voice; -"I sent for you to tell you--what is that?" - -His eyes dilated with fear, and he glanced round the room. - -"It is nothing," said Auberthal, gently. - -He laughed--a short, bitter laugh. - -"He is not far off--he never is. Don't you hear the horse breathing -outside the door? I can. I always hear it now. Don't let it come -in--don't--don't, Auberthal!" - -His voice rose to a shriek. - -"Nothing shall come in." - -"Thank you. I am so foolish to mind! I--I wanted to tell you. I--I -murdered him." - -He fell back exhausted. - -"Whom?" asked Auberthal, aghast. - -"My cousin Franz. He was the heir." - -"But he was drowned." - -Siebach struggled up on his elbow. - -"No, I told them that. I shot him; and I knew if they found the body -they would accuse me, so I hid it. And when his father died, and I -got the castle, I dug him up--and--you know. I could not hide the -skeleton, so I put it on the horse. Don't you think that was a good -idea?" - -He laughed, and Auberthal looked at me with a shudder. - -"The armour hid it," went on Siebach, "and I knew they were all so -superstitious they wouldn't touch it. And then you came--you and -Auberthal." - -At that moment the doctor came in. When he left the room he called me -out. - -"Count Siebach is mad?" I questioned, - -"He is not responsible for what he says. Are you a friend of his?" - -"In a way." - -"Then you had better stay with him. Send for me if he gets worse. I -shall do no good by stopping." - -I went back to Auberthal. Siebach was obviously too ill to be left. I -agreed to sit up with him half the night, whilst Auberthal rested. - -Siebach was exhausted, and for some hours lay quite still. I think he -was insensible. But about 12 o'clock I heard a sound from the bed, -and went to him. He was sitting up, looking straight before him into -space. - -"Don't you hear it?" he asked. - -I listened, to appease him. - -"No." - -"Not the horse?" - -I listened more attentively. - -Yes--the old rattle--the old sound of a horse's hoofs. It was coming -up the stairs. - -Slowly the door opened--slowly the light I had seen before grew in the -darkened air--and into the room rode the Stone Rider, rigid, erect, -with the unearthly radiance all around him. - -He came up to the foot of the bed, and slowly lifted the vizor of his -helmet, disclosing a glistening skull--and, as I looked, the skull -became the face in the portrait over the mantelpiece of the study at -Salitz. It was too evident that Siebach recognised it. His eyes were -fixed on the apparition; his thin features were grey, and drawn with -fear. For a moment he remained motionless, staring at it; then he -threw up his arms with an awful cry, and fell back. - -Slowly the Stone Rider drew the mailed gauntlet from his right hand. -For a moment he poised it deliberately in the air, then flung it full -in Siebach's face. - -A shudder ran through the prostrate figure, but it did not move again; -and the Stone Rider turned his horse and rode from the room. The light -followed him, and we were again in semi-darkness. - -Then I lit a candle and rang for Auberthal and the servants. - - * * * * * - -Whether the story of the murder was correct or not, I cannot say. It -may have been the madness of a diseased imagination, or it may have -been the late remorse of a criminal. At any rate, it is not for me to -throw suspicion on the name of a dead man. I can only relate what I -myself saw and heard. The doctor declared, and maintains to this day, -that his patient was insane; and, being a doctor, he very naturally -has the world on his side. But, say what he will, there is one thing -he can never explain. When I lit the candle that night, and found -Count Siebach von Salitz lying dead, I found also that on his forehead -was the distinct print--purple and bruised--of a clenched fist. The -doctor cannot explain this; perhaps I can. For what could it be if it -was not left by the gauntlet of the Stone Rider? - -[Illustration: "I ... FOUND COUNT SIEBACH VON SALITZ LYING DEAD."] - - - - -MAKING A MODERN NEWSPAPER. - -SOME SECRETS REVEALED - -BY ALFRED C. HARMSWORTH, Editor of the _Daily Mail_. - - -[Illustration: FROM FOREST--] - -When you casually and carelessly open your newspaper of a morning, how -often do you realise, even if you are aware, that it is the product -of a score of busy organisations, with tentacles spread over the whole -world, the operation of which involves the best brains and machinery -of the age; that unlimited capital and thought are devoted to its -daily production; that its continual appearance has created a new -class of men who work at night and sleep by day; that its distribution -requires the use of special trains, and the gathering of its news the -opening at night of telegraph, cable, and telephone offices; that the -public appetite for reading is sweeping away vast Scandinavian and -American forests for the manufacture of the wood pulp of which the -paper itself is made; and that the very journal you are reading may -have formed part of a growing tree a month ago! - -In the days of wagers, the wool growing on a sheep's back was once -converted into a dresscoat by dinner-time--and they dined at four -o'clock then! In the last few years a not dissimilar experiment -resulted in the conversion of a tree that was growing at dawn into a -newspaper by luncheon. - -Your daily newspaper is the best bargain you will ever make, and you -make it every day. Do you grasp the fact that your newspaper is the -most splendid example of co-operation imaginable--that it enables you -to obtain for a few pence each week that which, if only one copy were -printed, would cost you, for telegraphy, for brain work, for machinery -and building and land, a thousand pounds a day or more? The Duke of -Westminster or Mr. Astor might buy a better horse, picture, or theatre -seat than you can, but your newspaper is as good as theirs. - -According to Mr. Labouchere and some other folk, the mystery of the -press is the secret of its power. Yet I venture to think that if I -lift the curtain a little--nay more, if I take the public behind -the scenes for a short while--I shall be increasing rather than -endangering the respect in which the newspaper press is very properly -held in this country. - -In the days when many newspapers were small sheets, produced in dark -alleys, under the charge of disreputable ne'er-do-wells, who veiled -a vast amount of vulgarity under the name of Bohemianism, it was -doubtless a wise thing to surround the press with mystery. The less -the public knew about a newspaper office the better for the newspaper. -But to-day the public press is the concentration of all that is best -in thought and all that is most modern in mechanism. - -[Illustration: --TO FLEET STREET. - -A three mile roll of paper.] - -[Illustration: HOW THE NEWS COMES--BY CABLE, TELEGRAPH, TELEPHONE, -ETC.] - -The internal construction of a newspaper office is almost as -complicated as that of a battleship--the duties of a modern editor as -onerous as those of the man in the conning tower. - -Let us take a hasty glance at the inside life of a journal. - -A newspaper office is one of the few business establishments in which -the human machinery is at work the whole twenty-four hours round. The -business department, which requires the same staff as is needed in an -insurance office or bank, starts its operations, as a rule, at nine -in the morning, when the heads and clerks of the advertising, -circulation, and other departments assemble. - -With them arrives the first of the editorial staff. He, in the case of -one newspaper with which I am acquainted, relieves the colleague who -has been on duty since the previous midnight. It is his duty to open -the editorial letters, to watch the news of the day, to see whether -the particular journal on which he is engaged has gained or lost by -comparison with its competitors in the collection of news, and to -arrange matters generally for the coming of his co-workers, the -foreign editor, and others, who assemble at eleven o'clock. - -By this hour many of the reporters are already engaged in their -multifarious engagements in various parts of the metropolis. The -preparation of the next day's paper goes on steadily until five -o'clock, when there is usually a brief conference of the editorial -powers that be on the policy to be adopted on any particular event, -and the methods required for obtaining any particular news or -other features, and then, at six o'clock, the hard work of the day -commences. - -[Illustration: JUST OUT!] - -The clerks, who have been receiving and checking advertisements all -day, have sent them to the printing department, where advertisers' -announcements are being put into print as rapidly as nimble fingers -can operate quick machinery, and then, save for the presence of one -or two clerks, the advertisement and commercial side of a newspaper -"shuts down" for the day. The sub-editors appear, reporters come in -with the results of their day's labours, news arrives by the tape and -other news machines in a constantly increasing quantity for the next -nine hours. First comes the news from China or India. The Indian -correspondent puts his telegram on the wire at eight or nine o'clock -in Bombay, which is equal to four o'clock in the afternoon in London; -and this difference of time, even allowing a couple of hours for -transmission, makes him always first in the field with his news. But, -on the other hand, the American news will not arrive until very late -indeed, for when it is seven o'clock in the evening at New York it is -midnight here. - -[Illustration: OLD STYLE. - -(Setting type by hand at 10 words per minute.)] - -"How do you manage to find all the little pieces of news to put -into your paper?" is a question that must have been asked of every -journalist. - -[Illustration: NEW STYLE. - -(Setting type by machinery at 40 words per minute.)] - -That is not the difficulty. One's heaviest task is the keeping out of -the items of news. On an average day it is safe to estimate that twice -or thrice as much intelligence comes to a newspaper as it can possibly -use. At times like, say, the last Jubilee, or at any moment of public -excitement, news pours in in a manner appalling to contemplate. - -The wonder is that there are so few mistakes in journals. When it is -remembered that those who handle and pass the news have often but a -second to decide as to its accuracy, that it often comes from parts -of the world to which it is impossible to refer speedily by telegram, -that it frequently consists of statements made by public men, who -may disavow them when put to the test--when it is remembered that -the sub-editor has to contend with the errors of shorthand, of the -telegraph, the electric cable, and the telephone, I think that British -newspapers, and London metropolitan newspapers in particular, are an -object lesson to the world in accuracy. Laborious publications like -the _Army List_, and the _London Gazette_, which are compiled by a -leisurely Government staff, contain as many errors in proportion as -the hastily produced modern newspaper. - -Accuracy, indeed, may be considered to be the feature of English -journalism. The stress of newspaper competition in New York induces -the younger journals to rush anything into type that comes to hand, -and the American public does not seem to mind it. - -But I pity the English journal which should print one or two items of -false news. The average Briton, who is a plodding, painstaking man, -takes his newspaper as seriously as his breakfast, and one or two -mistakes in his newspaper, or his eggs, would make him change his -caterer. He has no sympathy for "enterprise" which leads him astray. -And from this fact arises one of the differences between the English -and the American newspaper. From the American aspect, ours is dull, -slow, stupid, and behind the times. On the other hand our journals are -typical of the painstaking, plodding nature of our people, and, like -our public buildings, are often much better than they look. - -[Illustration: DISTRIBUTING CARTS WAITING FOR THE EVENING PAPER TO -COME FROM THE MACHINES.] - -To return to our visit to the newspaper office. All the evening long -as news arrives it is cut down and measured as to its importance, -corrected, given its proper heading, and sent upstairs by pneumatic -or other lifts to the composing department. Towards eleven o'clock -at night every brain is concentrated on its task. At one o'clock the -worst is over. There is time for a cigar or a cigarette. One may be -waiting for important news from a war correspondent, or merely keeping -the paper open for any news that may arrive between one and three in -the morning. - -[Illustration: CYCLIST DISTRIBUTORS "LOADING UP."] - -The type is first set into columns by machinery, corrected and -re-corrected; these columns are then made up into pages, which are -again corrected, each page being tightly screwed into an iron frame (I -am purposely using no technicalities). A papier maché or other mould -is then taken of each page, and into this mask (or matrix) hot metal -is poured, and the pages come out in the form of curved plates ready -for fixing on the machines. It is a difficult process to explain -without ocular demonstration, and I have been so long accustomed to -the work that I have lost all sense of its beauty and ingenuity. - -Towards three o'clock in the morning all the curved plates have been -fixed on the machines; final proof copies--that is to say, first -impressions of the paper--have been passed; the machines start, and -up come complete copies of the paper as you see it at the breakfast -table, the club, or in the railway train. - -The first complete copies are carefully scanned by dozens of eager -eyes in the hope of finding some tiny blunder which it is not too late -to remove. - -Each of these modern printing presses depicted here has a nominal -capacity of 48,000, or 96,000 copies per hour, according to the size -of the paper. - -[Illustration: THE MACHINE WHICH EATS PAPER AT THE RATE OF 20 MILES AN -HOUR.] - -It is a speed truly terrific. The carts that are waiting outside the -newspaper office in the night seem to be filled almost by magic. -One hears the machinery start; a few minutes later the race for the -distributing agents and the railway trains begins. Upstairs such of -the editorial staff as have not gone home are enjoying the same kind -of chat at the conclusion of their labours as other men do at their -clubs. Nor are we newspaper men clubless even at that hour. The Press -Club, hard by Fleet Street, keeps its doors open for journalists -until five a.m.; and for the printers and others there are special -hostelries open to them, and to them only, by legal enactment. Railway -companies, too, provide trains for us, though not so many as they -should, thus enabling us to get away from the city to the pure air of -the suburbs at a time when all the world is sleeping. - -[Illustration: HOW THE PAPERS COME UP FROM THE "INFERNAL REGIONS."] - -Newspapers are commercial concerns, and their proprietors are as -anxious to attractively stock their columns as tradesmen their shop -windows. We do not say so in our journals, but privately we are -entirely aware that we are racing each other for attractive news. -As to what does or does not sell in a newspaper, always an important -question, opinions differ greatly. I doubt whether any two editors of -metropolitan daily journals would agree on that point, the fact being -that what pleases one audience does not necessarily interest another. -Sometimes a newspaper will adopt a feature that has proved successful -in a contemporary with most disappointing results in its own case. Now -and then a particular feature will spread throughout the whole press. -At one time the public is bent upon foreign news, at another time upon -matters purely domestic, but I think all are agreed that the average -metropolitan reader nowadays turns to his foreign news before he reads -anything else. Two or three years ago there appeared to be a positive -craze for sporting intelligence. To-day mere sporting news seems to -have lost much of its attraction. The year before last the amount of -cricket in the evening journals was a source of amazement. This year I -venture to think cricket will reach its proper level. - -[Illustration: PAPERS BEING TURNED OUT COMPLETE, FOLDED, COUNTED, AND -READY FOR THE AGENTS--AT THE RATE OF 48,000 COPIES PER HOUR.] - -But that every section of the public values the quick and accurate -publication of news is obvious. The desire for speed increases each -year, and it is now recognised that the main object of a modern -newspaper organisation is the collection of news and the accurate and -speedy publication thereof. Incidentally it may be mentioned that of -the quickness with which this is performed by the press, the evening -journals in particular, few of the public have the least appreciation. -I have known the verdict of a trial, the result of a cricket match, -or a boat race, published to the world within _ten seconds_ of the -arrival of the news in the newspaper office. The statement seems -incredible, but the thing can be done in more than one newspaper -office in London and the provinces. - -[Illustration: AN EDITORIAL CONCLAVE. - -(Deciding the policy of the paper.)] - -I have asked for and obtained an item of news from New York in -seven minutes. In this space of time was comprised the writing of my -question in London, its transmission to New York, the writing of the -news there, and the telegraphing of it back to London. - -The British evening journals, and more especially those of the -provinces, and Scotland, are, in my opinion, ahead of the world in the -rapidity with which they publish accurate information. - -We newspaper men love to chat among ourselves of great examples of the -publication of exclusive news, "beats" and "scoops," we call them. One -of the most successful was that achieved by the _Pall Mall Gazette_ -when it announced, in the teeth of press and official denials -innumerable, the resignation of Mr. Gladstone. I was in the United -States at the time, and can truly say that for well-nigh a month the -_Pall Mall Gazette_ was advertised day after day by a contradictory -telegram in every paper in the United States. It is said that £500 -was paid for that item of intelligence. It would have been cheap at -£5,000. - -Another great achievement was the publication by the _New York World_ -of news of the sinking of H.M.S. _Victoria_. It is not pleasant -for the British journalist to remember that the full account first -appeared in a journal published on the other side of the Atlantic, -and that that account was retransmitted to England. Then among other -sensational news victories were those of the _Times_ correspondent -at Pekin, in the recent Far Eastern imbroglio, and of Mr. Archibald -Forbes at the time of the Franco-Prussian war. - -The present generation has almost forgotten a great newspaper -development of a generation back. Nearly thirty years ago the whole -world was wondering what had become of Dr. Livingstone. Many attempts -were made to find him; there were private and semi-official hunts for -the missing missionary, but without avail. Then the _Daily Telegraph_ -and the _New York Herald_ despatched Mr. Stanley, who found him at -Ujiji. Next to the splendid war work of Sir W. H. Russell during -the Crimea, Stanley's work was the best expeditionary journey of -the century. More recently we have seen great feats of newspaper -enterprise, both in this country and the United States, grow out -of the Hispano-American war. War news will probably always be a -newspaper's greatest luxury. - -[Illustration: FLEET STREET BEFORE DAWN.] - -The _Sheffield Daily Telegraph_ did a very big thing in 1867. I -extract an account of the accomplishment from a recent publication: - -"At that time, although few outsiders suspected it, there existed -in Sheffield a British Vehmgericht--of which a man named Broadhead, -secretary of the Sawgrinders' Union, was president--for the secret -trial and punishment of non-unionist workmen. The _Telegraph_, acting -on private and dearly-bought information, attacked this organisation, -Sir William Leng, of course, finding the money, and often personally -conducting the necessary investigations. It was a delicate as well as -a dangerous task, as he soon found to his cost. - -"One of his reporters was bludgeoned and left for dead in one of the -principal streets of the town, and in broad daylight. The house in -which another lodged was blown up with gunpowder. His own life was -threatened day by day, and often many times a day. His leaders were -written with a revolver on his desk and another strapped to his hip, -and for nearly a year he never went abroad unarmed. At length the -famous Royal Commission of 1867 was appointed, with the result that -the secret horrors Sir William had so fearlessly denounced were -dragged into the light of day. All England stood aghast, and the -arch-villain Broadhead, together with Crookes, Hallam, and others of -his tools, made full confession in order to save their own miserable -necks. The power of the terrible tribunal was broken for ever; but -the exposure cost the _Telegraph_, from first to last, some eighteen -thousand pounds." - -Sir William Leng's daring calls to mind that of Mr. Ross, of _Black -and White_, who as a young man went through an experience that, while -it proved a stepping-stone to his fortune (for he made nearly £1,000 -by his exclusive telegrams to the press), thrilled the world for a -very long time. The following is an account of the matter given me by -a friend of his:-- - -In the memorable winter of 1880, when the snow lay so deep along the -lines of the North that trains passed through tunnels of ice, and -towns were isolated for days, a gruesome incident happened. - -The Earl of Balcarres died at Florence, and the body, having been -embalmed, was conveyed by tedious stages to Aberdeen, thence to -be consigned to the mausoleum which formed part of the magnificent -mansion at Dunecht, upon which the deceased Earl had spent twenty -years of thought and "tons of money." - -A hearse, of the lugubrious type one is accustomed to see in country -towns, had been sent to await the belated train at Aberdeen, and the -body was duly transferred, not without difficulty, for the bulk of the -suite of coffins was a little greater than village hearses are made -to meet. The weary ten mile journey was undertaken in the dark, amid a -downfall of snow, over the bleak road that leads from the granite city -to the village of Skene. Progress was slow, the night grew darker -and stormier; the snow drifted in wreaths across the road; the horses -became exhausted; the men in charge did their utmost for a time, but -it seemed as if, in the words of the national poet, "the De'il had -business on his hand." Hearse and horses became embedded in a bank of -snow, and further effort was futile; the body had to be abandoned for -the night. - -On the following day the storm abated, assistance arrived, the vehicle -was extricated, and the body was conveyed to Dunecht. There the -funeral service was conducted in the chapel which is built over the -family vault, and with little ceremony and few attendants the body was -deposited on one of the shelves of the underground structure which was -intended to be the tomb of the family to which its first tenant, the -noble Earl, belonged. - -The weird circumstances attending the Lord Balcarres' death and -funeral were almost fittingly followed by events of unparalleled -mystery. Twelve months almost to a day had transpired when a heavy -odour of spices attracted the attention of the servants moving about -the mansion. On examination it was found that the huge slab of stone -which covered the doorway leading into the vault had been disturbed. -The stone--seemingly heavy enough to require the strength of a dozen -men to move it--had been lifted, the vault had been entered, the -coffin "pinched" forward till it rested on the floor, the lid had been -torn off, the two inner cases had been rent, the body removed, and -the floor of the vault was strewn with the red sawdust by which the -embalming fluid had been absorbed. Here was a mystery indeed. - -The first hint of what had happened appeared in the papers on -Saturday. The young Earl was telegraphed for, and outposts of police -were established round the house, with instructions that no one was to -be admitted, and no information was to be vouchsafed. One enterprising -young journalist--Mr. W. D. Ross--who at that time was editing the -principal evening paper in Aberdeen, resolved to break the silence by -which his contemporaries were baffled. He secured the co-operation of -one of the servants on the estate to whom he was known, and, deeming -boldness best, found his way to the house, and demanded an audience of -the Earl. The housekeeper, after some demur, consented. Plain-spoken -tact was necessary in dealing with so delicate a matter; so when -the Earl appeared, the young man explained that he was there as the -representative of the _Times_ (of which he was then the correspondent) -to consult the young peer's wishes as to what should be said about -this mysterious matter, with a view to obviate malicious and mistaken -versions. - -[Illustration: A CORNER OF MESSRS. W. H. SMITH AND SON'S HEADQUARTERS -IN LONDON AT 3.30 A.M.] - -Lord Balcarres wisely accepted this considerate method, and, despite -the orders that had been issued, gave special facilities to the -pressman to examine the vault and obtain the facts so far as they -could be obtained at the time. The first result was that Mr. Ross -secured the monopoly of information, and also the monopoly of the -telegraph wires at Aberdeen, and on Monday morning all the papers -throughout the country published columns on the Dunecht mystery. It -was this publicity that eventuall resulted in the partial elucidation -of the mystery. - -[Illustration: REPORTERS GLEANING "FULLEST DETAILS OF THE CRIME."] - -For days and weeks the telegraph officials at Aberdeen were kept -busy transmitting the reams of "copy" which, in his capacity of half -detective and half reporter, this young man had prepared. Mr. Ross -probed the matter minutely, and, apart from his important police work, -so thoroughly was his newspaper task accomplished, that over thirty -leading daily papers passed their correspondence into his hands. -Through the various phases of the mystery, ample orders and handsome -revenue poured into him, since sub-editors put no stint on the -quantities of matter of vital interest furnished for the public under -the heading of "The Dunecht Outrage." The sensation was kept up by -speculation, searches by bloodhounds, police investigations, arrests, -body-snatching theories, suggestions of black-mail, of malice, and -every kind of motive, for twelve months. - -During this time, the newspaper man, whose detective work was -considered of the greatest value by the police, became an important -medium between the parties supposed to be concerned and the detective -staff of the city, a position of very considerable personal danger. - -Then the interest died away, till in July of 1882, eighteen months -after the rifling of the tomb, the body was found buried in the leaf -mould that lay in the dry bed of a little rivulet that at one time had -run through the grounds at Dunecht. - -Public interest was again kept at high tension by the curiosity of -the people to account for the motive of the outrage. Then came the -apprehension of suspected persons, afterwards liberated, and finally -of one named Souter, who was convicted in the High Court at Edinburgh -and sentenced to penal servitude. The conviction hardly met the -justice of the case, for it was obvious that there must have been a -group of grave-robbers at work. - -One of the most curious things about the case was that the police -informed Mr. Ross that they believed it was the intention of the -guilty parties to make a confession, and that they had elected to make -him the medium of it. It was actually arranged that the parties were -to travel to Aberdeen by a certain train to reveal the whole mystery, -but for reasons that have never transpired this plan was subject to -sudden eclipse, and to this day the mystery remains as much a mystery -as ever. The unfortunate man Souter, whose actual guilt was greatly -doubted, called upon Mr. Ross the moment he was set at liberty, and -through him communicated to the Press a circumstantial repudiation of -his own responsibility, and promised that what he knew about the crime -and the criminals would ultimately be revealed when considerations of -honour which had kept him silent could be removed. - -This is the story of the famous mystery which formed one of the most -thrilling newspaper sensations of modern times, and which created for -the present manager of _Black and White_ a reputation for enterprise -which has lasted till to-day. - -[Illustration: IN THE EDITOR'S PRIVATE OFFICE--"I HAVE AN IMPORTANT -SECRET TO SELL!"] - -Of a hundred interesting sides of newspaper life I have been unable -to say anything. The dangers of war correspondents--the humours of the -society column, and the people who want to get into it--the financial -editor--the lady journalist--the parliamentary staff--the descriptive -reporter--the newspaper artist--the _£ s. d._ of journalism--each -and all of these, and many more, would make a paper of considerable -interest; and Mr. Joseph Hatton should write his "Journalistic London" -anew, for the whole newspaper position has changed since his last -edition. - -The sub-editor and the descriptive reporter appear to me to be the men -upon whom the chief work of the journalism of the future will fall. -In France, where they do many things well, such masters as Zola have -raised descriptive newspaper writing to the level of an art. Here, -save in the case of war correspondence and parliamentary work, we have -not specialised much as yet. A descriptive reporter, as one of the -artists who has illustrated this little chat of mine suggests, may -be sent out to describe a murder trial, a fire, an execution, or -interview a great novelist! - -We shall improve by-and-by. The old verbatim reporter will always -remain, but he must give way to the descriptive writer in many -matters. - -Touching the question of the publishing of great secrets--such as that -of Mr. Gladstone's retirement already referred to--I claim for the -newspaper press of Britain that it refrains from publishing news -calculated to needlessly injure or offend. How well do we know the -fair visitant who comes to us with some great scandal to sell, and -who becomes almost indignant when she is politely shown out. Women, I -fear, are more versed in this matter than men. - -[Illustration: SOME DAYS IN THE LIFE OF A NEWS-GATHERER. - - _Out with the River Police._ - A murder trial. - A railway accident. - A political meeting. - An execution. - A colliery disaster. - Interviewing a distinguished novelist. - A fire. - -] - - - - -THEIR MOTOR-CAR ELOPEMENT, - -AND HOW IT ENDED. - -BY EDGAR JEPSON. - -_Illustrated by H. R. Millar._ - - -[Illustration] - -The atmosphere of the room was charged almost with storm; there was a -thrill upon its air, the thrill of pent emotion. Jack stood gazing out -of the window; Kitty sat by the fire looking at his broad back almost -hungrily, a craving for the clasp of his arms rending her, her hands -clenched to the whitening of her finger-nails in the effort to keep -control of her feelings. - -"What's the use of having fifty thousand a year, if I can't marry the -man I want!" she cried, fiercely. - -At her words a sudden spasm of pain caught his breath, and twisted his -averted face; but he made shift to say in his usual drawl-- - -"It does seem rather hard lines, little girl. Who is it?" - -"Don't call me little girl! I believe you think I'm still a child!" -said Kitty. - -"Very well, very well--madam. Who is the man? Young Malmesford?" - -"As if I should tell you!" cried Kitty. - -"Well, you sent for me. I thought you wanted my advice or help, or -something, don't you know!" said Jack. - -"I want help badly enough," said Kitty; and he turned sharply at her -tone to see that her face was very pale in the frame of her black -hair. "But how could you help me in this? How could anyone help me? I -oughtn't even to talk about it to you!" - -"Oh, yes; you ought!" he said, quickly. "You've always talked about -everything to me!" He paused awhile, then added, and he could not keep -the sadness out of his voice, "So you want someone else to talk to -about everything? Who is it? I'll deal with him all right." The last -words came savagely. - -"Oh!" cried Kitty, "I believe you'd order him to marry me, and thrash -him if he refused!" - -"I'd see that he did it!" said Jack, with the same savage earnestness. - -A silence fell upon them; Kitty's thoughts seemed to grow more -distressful, for now and again she sighed; Jack stared out of the -window, and watched the deepening twilight blacken the park; it seemed -to him that this confession of Kitty's was so blackening his life; the -night was settling down upon it. - -"Jack--do you--do you remember--about two years ago--you stopped -kissing me. Why--why did you do it?" said Kitty, softly; she seemed to -have wandered from the point. He turned to her; the glow of the fire -alone lit the room now; and she was sitting full in it. Her face was -still pale. - -[Illustration: "CLENCHING HIS FIST AND BANGING IT ON THE TABLE."] - -"Oh," he said, in discomfort, "you weren't a child any more. And you -were a great heiress--and I was your friend and guardian--and all that -sort of thing, don't you know!" - -"Poor Jack! You're very poor, aren't you, Jack?" - -"No, I'm not! I'm rolling in riches! I've four hundred a year!" said -Jack, bitterly. "Besides, there's the Colonial Land Agency; I made -twenty pounds out of that last year." - -"What's four hundred a year with your tastes?" queried Kitty. - -"Look here! don't let's talk about me. What about this fellow?" said -Jack, clenching his fist and banging it on the table. - -"You should never have left Westralia. You kept your horses, you -got your sport; you were on the way to becoming the big man of the -district," said Kitty, not to be diverted from her theme. "Do you -remember what a swell you were when you first found me, six--no, -seven--I'm always forgetting that I'm nineteen--years ago, and how -poor father and I were? Do you know I should never have been anything -but a wild bush-girl if you hadn't taken me in hand and looked after -me? Really you taught me everything! I believe that but for that I -might have worn the wrong clothes!" - -"Oh, nonsense! You were _born_ all right," said Jack. - -"Oh, yes, you did," said Kitty. "And when three years ago the gold -was found, and father made his million, and died, appointing you my -guardian, and you thought I ought to come to England and have some -schooling, I believe you left Westralia just for my sake, to look -after me." - -"One always comes back to England," said Jack, quickly. - -"You wouldn't have come but for that," said Kitty. - -"Oh, yes, I should. Of course I should." - -"I always thought it strange that father didn't leave you a few -thousands a year for your trouble in looking after me and my fortune," -said Kitty. - -"He knew jolly well I shouldn't have taken it," said Jack, hotly. - -There was a pause; and then she said thoughtfully-- - -"Do you know I believe father thought you would fall in love with me -and marry me? Wasn't it a funny idea?" said Kitty. - -"Oh, v--v--very funny! Very funny!" said Jack, grinding his teeth -softly. - -"Yes; just think of your age. Why, you'll be twenty-eight on the tenth -of March," said Kitty. - -"Oh! So it's that young fool Malmesford, is it?" said Jack, viciously. - -"What's that young fool Malmesford?" asked the innocent Kitty. - -"Look here," said Jack, in a quiet, strained voice, "we're getting -away from the point. You want to marry a man; and I'm to make him -marry you. Who is he?" - -"Ah," said Kitty, plaintively, with a long-drawn breath, "now I see -why you're so keen about it. You want to get rid of me. You are tired -of the trouble of looking after my stupid investments. Well, I'm sure -I don't wonder at it. You want to marry me off, and have done with -it. I wouldn't have sent for you if I'd known; I've only added to your -trouble." - -"Well," said the goaded Jack, "thank goodness you'll be of age in two -years; and then I sha'n't be plagued like this." - -[Illustration: "SHE SET DELIBERATELY TO WORK TO FILE THROUGH THE -HANDLE."] - -"Plagued," said Kitty, "how plagued? I'm so sorry. How was I to know -you wanted to be rid of the trouble of me and my fortune? You never -grumbled before." - -"Oh, your fortune! I tell you I've wished a thousand times that every -investment of yours went to smash, and you lost every penny of it! -So there! I'll just leave you for awhile to make up your mind whether -you're going to tell me who the man is, or not!" He flung out of the -room in a heat, and banged the door. - -Kitty laughed a little low laugh of extreme relief; but her eyes -were all shining; and she said with a little shiver, "He loves me--he -does--he does--he does!!!" - -Presently she rose, with a very resolute face, took a hat and coat -from a peg in the hall, went out of the back-door, and down to the -stables. She went into a coach-house, switched on the electric light -above her motor-car, and considered it thoughtfully. It was a big car, -with something of the air of a trap, built to hold two. Then she went -to the box of tools used for its machinery, and selecting a fine file -stepped into the car, and set deliberately to work to file through the -handle of the lever which started and stopped it. Her Australian life -had made her a capital work-woman, and she did it neatly; but it was -a long piece of work, and now and again she stopped to test it. She -wished to file through it, so that she could break it with a jerk. -All the while she worked she whistled softly. Something about her task -seemed to amuse her. - -At last she completed it to her liking, and then sat back in the -car, weighing, with a face that grew very serious, the risks of the -dangerous game she had resolved to play. After a long while she rose -and said between her teeth, "I don't care if we are smashed, Jack and -I, together." - -She came back to the house, went to him in the billiard-room, and -said, "We're going to dine at the Hall to-night. Aunt will go in the -brougham, and you and I in the motor-car." - -"I hate the beastly thing. I know there will be a smash some day," he -said. His temper was still ruffled. - -"Very well," said Kitty, gently. "You go with aunt, and I will go in -the car by myself." - -"I'll be shot if I do!" said Jack; then he said, "I suppose Malmesford -will be there?" - -"I suppose he will," said Kitty, very demurely. "But why do you speak -so contemptuously of your cousin?" - -"I didn't choose my cousins, did I?" said Jack. - -"You're very irritable to-day," said Kitty, severely, and she left -him. - -[Illustration: "KITTY AND THE MARQUIS WERE PLAINLY GREAT FRIENDS."] - -Later, as they were settling themselves in the motor-car, Jack, still -captious, said, "How many more rugs? are we going to the North Pole?" - -Kitty's heart jumped: they might be going a good deal further: she -only said, "There are ten degrees of frost already; and it isn't like -a closed carriage." - -She handled the lever very gingerly, and brought them to the Hall -safely. Jack did not enjoy the dinner. Kitty and the Marquis of -Malmesford were plainly great friends: she had never, indeed, been so -nice to him before. Jack tried to regard their friendship with the -eye of an indulgent guardian, hardened, as he believed himself, to -the thought of her marrying; he made a very poor hand at it. He had -accustomed himself, indeed, to looking at her across the great gulf of -her wealth; but the sight of another man making fortunate love to her -awoke in him a desperate jealousy. - -They were late leaving the Hall; and it was a bitter black frost. Aunt -Anne started first in her brougham, and then Kitty, in a long sealskin -jacket and sealskin cape, walked down between Jack and Malmesford to -the stables, where the motor-car awaited them. Jack wrapped the rugs -round her very carefully, and took his seat at her side; she cried a -careless "Good-night!" to Malmesford, and started the car gently. As -they turned into the road at the end of the drive, she moved the lever -nearly to full speed, and with a sharp jerk of her strong little wrist -snapped off the handle. - -[Illustration: "SHE MOVED THE LEVER NEARLY TO FULL SPEED."] - -"What's that?" said Jack. - -"Oh, Jack!" she cried, with an odd, excited thrill in her voice, "I've -smashed the handle, and we can't stop!" - -"Good Heavens!" cried Jack, and threw his arm around her. - -The speed began to quicken. - -"The lever's nearly at full speed," said Kitty, quietly. "What are we -to do?" - -His arm tightened round her, and the alternatives raced through his -mind. "We must strike the Great North Road at Anderfield, and heaven -forgive any one who gets in our way!" he said. - -"Six miles and two turns," said Kitty; "but it's our only chance." - -The hedges were flying past. The first turn was two miles away, and -they were very soon on it. Kitty put on all the brake she could; and -they came round it safely. They came down hill to the second turn: -fortunately it was not sharp: a long hill fairly steep, and, for all -the brake, the machine went quicker and quicker until it seemed almost -to fly, scarcely touching the ground. The hedge of the other side -of the Great North Road sprang suddenly up before them: they seemed -almost on it; Jack, with his heart in his mouth, lifted Kitty half out -of her seat as they whizzed round the corner on two wheels: the car -settled with a jerk that proved the strength of its springs, and they -ripped down the Great North Road. - -Kitty laughed a short hysterical laugh. - -"I thought we'd gone to glory together!" she said: and they both lay -back panting. - -"How far are we going?" said Jack. - -"It won't stop for fifty miles," said Kitty. - -"Good Lord!" said Jack. "Can't I do anything? Let me get at the -machinery." - -"You can do nothing!" said Kitty, sharply. - -For a long while neither said a word. The car sped along with a -querulous, eerie whirr that rose to a clattering snarl as it hurtled -down hill. The cold air stung their faces; the hedges were level, -black walls on either side; now and again they flew through a sleeping -village; and the dogs who ran out to bark, turned and fled yelping -from this sinister, rushing monster. Kitty's firm hand steered them -steadily, save when the car jerked snarling down hill, out of control; -now and again she set the whistle hooting. Jack sat with his mind in -a whirl of fears of what might befall her. Little by little the -oppression of a nightmare began to weigh upon them as a binding spell. - -Jack broke it by withdrawing his arm from around her, and lighting a -cigar; he did not slip his arm back. - -Presently she said softly, "Hold me again, Jack, I feel safer"--his -arm slipped round her--"I feel--I feel--as if some dreadful beast were -carrying us away." - -She looked infinitely childlike; and he gripped her closer. - -"Poor aunt Anne, she'll think we've had a smash, as indeed we may," -she said presently. - -"By Jove, yes; they'll be hunting the neighbourhood for us!" said -Jack. - -"As for Lord Malmesford, he'll think you've run away with me," said -Kitty. - -"Oh, nonsense!" said Jack, uneasily. - -"He will though. Juliette Halliwell will tell him so. I saw her get -very angry at the affectionate way you were looking at me at dinner," -said Kitty. - -"I wasn't!" said Jack. - -"Oh, yes, you were; ever so affectionately. What kind of affection was -it, Jack--paternal?" - -"Talk of something else!" said Jack, in a thick voice; and nestling -against him, she felt him quiver and his heart shake him at each -thumping beat. - -Some miles further on the lights of a town rose suddenly a little way -ahead. Kitty set the whistle hooting, and slowed the car as much as -she could, but even then they dashed down the long silent street at a -very dangerous pace. It was fortunate that it was empty. They were -a mile beyond it before they breathed easily again, and Kitty said, -"What town was that?" - -"I don't know," said Jack. "We're five-and-twenty miles from home." - -The road stretched far away ahead, very white in the moonlight; and -the feeling that the car was a malignant living creature came upon -them more oppressively than ever, wearing their nerves. - -[Illustration: "THEY RUSHED TOWARDS THE WAGGON."] - -Kitty nestled closer to him--a fear that her desperate freak would -have a tragic end invading and filling her heart. They rushed up a -long hill--the car seemed to breast it like a strong demon--and at the -top saw before them a long steep descent. - -"Now the brute's going to have all its own way," said Kitty, between -her clenched teeth. - -"Never mind, little girl," said Jack, cheerily, "sit tight." If she -had not been there, he felt that he would have enjoyed the danger; as -it was, he sat in torture. - -"It is out of control!" cried Kitty; and, peering ahead: -"There's--there's a waggon at the bottom of the hill!" - -The whistle hooted and hooted; she gave the car the brake; and at each -leap it jarred every bone in her body. They rushed towards the -waggon; if the waggon was not on its right side of the road, they were -smashed: they were upon it; Kitty screamed out; there was a snapping -crash; then they were rushing along the empty road with the left -splash-board torn off. Kitty lay back in a dead faint. Jack caught the -steering-gear in his right hand, raised Kitty with his left arm, and -twisted into her place, holding her on his knees. The car began to -slacken and go smoother up the opposite hill; in three minutes it was -steady again. Kitty lay heavy and still in his arms, her face very -white in the moonlight; her faint breathing scarce parted her lips. - -Uphill and downhill, through villages, through another town the car -fled on. Now and again Kitty murmured a word, now she seemed to sleep. -The night was wearing on. At last it seemed to him that the beast was -tiring; and he scarce dared believe it. But breasting the next long -hill it slowed and slowed; its moan hushed; it came to a crawl. Thirty -yards from the top it stopped a moment, moved on again, then stopped -for good. For all its danger he sighed that their ride was at an end. -Kitty never stirred; he gave her a little shake; and she sighed too, -and raised herself. They looked down on a great stretch of country; -here and there the dim twinkling showed the lights of a town. - -[Illustration: "KITTY LAY STILL IN HIS ARMS."] - -"There are some biscuits and a flask of cherry brandy, if it isn't -broken, in the box of your seat," said Kitty, slipping into the -place at his side. He fished them out unharmed, and they munched the -biscuits, and drank from the flask by turns. - -He looked at his watch, and said, "Ten past three! By Jove, we've had -a narrow squeak!" - -"Three in the morning, and miles from anywhere. I'm hopelessly -compromised," said Kitty. - -Jack knitted his brows, thinking it out; he could not gainsay it. He -said nothing. "Oh!" said Kitty, almost in a wail, "I thought you were -a man of honour, Jack." - -"Well?" said Jack. - -"There is only one course open to you," said Kitty. - -"Well, I suppose there is," said Jack, a little stiffly. "Will you -marry me?" - -"Yes: I will--I must--I must," said Kitty, with a deep sigh. - -Presently she said in a very low voice, "Have you no sense of what is -fitting?" As she spoke she looked into his eyes, swiftly and away. - -He caught her to him, and kissed her; it seemed to him that her lips -were responsive. - -A sudden jealous pang wrung his heart. "But--but--the other man: the -man you want to marry?" he said. - -"Ah, yes," said Kitty, carelessly--"the other man. It's no use -talking about him now. Let us forget him. I will tell you about him -when--when--we are married." - -She threw her arms round his neck and whispered, "Do you think you -will learn to love me, Jack?" - -He pressed her to him and cried passionately, "For four years I have -loved you more and more every day. Every day I have cursed your money -more!" - -"Poor Jack!" said Kitty, and her eyes were full of tears. He lifted -her out of the car, putting his arm round her, and supporting her; -and they began to walk down the hill in search of a railway station, -careless, in the glow of their happiness, of that bitter cold, and of -the inevitable long wait for a train. - - - - -HOW WE GET OUR WEATHER. - -BY GAVIN MACDONALD. - -_With photographs illustrating the queer side of the matter._ - - -In most of the morning papers we are accustomed to the luxury of a -detailed weather report and forecast. The majority glance at it with -a sceptical smile. They are of opinion that in order to be on the safe -side they must invert its message. If fine weather and sunshine -are predicted, they sagely nod and take down the homely gamp. The -prediction of a hurricane or stormy showers is the signal for leaving -umbrellas and overcoats at home. - -However, those who know anything of the gigantic strides meteorology -has made within the past few years are aware that in the main its -prognostications are accurate. In fact, it is a matter for great -surprise that its practical uses are not more generally recognised and -taken advantage of. - -If you meet your best friend in the street his first six words contain -some reference to the weather. The merest stranger looks questioningly -at the sky when he has made his bow. Two-thirds of the daily -conversation of the British Isles has to do with this subject; nor is -this surprising, for it is a matter of vital importance, affecting all -classes alike. - -[Illustration: CHURCH LIFTED INTO THE AIR BY A TORNADO AND DROPPED -ROOF-DOWN ON A HOUSE 100 FEET AWAY.] - -A wet Bank Holiday may mean thousands of pounds out of a railway -company's pocket, not to mention the disappointment and chagrin of -countless thousands of prospective holiday makers. A severe frost may -disorganise a whole trade. In 1881, for instance, the whole building -trade was at a standstill for a period of nearly three weeks, owing -to the severity of the frost. And to the farmers, horticulturists, and -fruit-growers the weather is a matter of financial life or death. - -Meteorology is of invaluable assistance in other ways: in warning -our coasts of coming storms; in deciding the climate and consequent -healthfulness of the different parts of the country. - -You can't even build a new town successfully without it, for only by -accurate meteorological observation can the two most important factors -of water-supply and sewerage be dealt with. For example, in planning -a new waterworks, the ground subject to the greatest rainfall, and -having the utmost gathering capacity, must be selected; while in -constructing the system of sewerage, it is essential for the -surveyor to accurately gauge the force and volume of the heaviest -thunder-shower. If this is miscalculated, pipes of insufficient -capacity may be laid with disastrous results to the city and its -inhabitants. - -These things are only to be learned by a study of meteorology. - -Few people have any knowledge of the science beyond that supplied -them by the forecasts and charts in the daily papers. Consequently the -charts, which are more or less abstruse, are only understood by the -few, and the forecasts are indulgently tolerated as a description -of useless fortune-telling, rendered respectable by scientific -recognition. - -[Illustration: HOUSES WRECKED BY A TORNADO.] - -The popular idea seems to be that certain scientific men who have -given the subject considerable study, cast a knowing eye on the -evening sky, and pass on written prognostications for use in the -morning papers. - -As a matter of fact the method by which we obtain our weather reports -and forecasts is very different, and savours even more strongly of -romance than the clairvoyant system usually identified with the seers -of the weather office. - -Two institutions look after our weather--the Meteorological Office, a -Government department with a grant of £15,000 per annum, and the Royal -Meteorological Society, a scientific institution maintained by the -subscriptions and donations of its members. - -The Meteorological Office occupies a dull set of rooms in Victoria -Street over a shop, and, other than the latest weather chart, hung -up outside the street door, there is nothing to intimate that the -presiding wizards of the weather sit upstairs, and that if you -are particularly anxious to have the latest information in their -possession you have only to walk up and pay the nominal sum of one -shilling. - -Likewise you may receive the latest information by letter for the same -fee, or by wiring to "Weather," London, the shilling fee and the cost -of a telegraphic reply. - -Farmers and others to whom the question of weather is a vital one, -especially at the hay and harvest seasons, are supplied with harvest -forecasts for the nominal sum of 2_s._ 6_d._ per quarter, in addition -to the cost of the telegrams. - -In addition to this, a set of forecasts is daily supplied to the -newspapers, and about twenty-eight well-known agriculturists, for -public exhibition in their neighbourhoods. - -The system employed in making up the weather is of more than usual -interest, and is worthy of some description. - -In connection with the office are some 140 observing stations, -including 17 belonging to the Royal Meteorological Society and 19 to -the Scottish Meteorological Society. These stations are divided -into classes according to the value and quantity of the observations -supplied by them. Excepting the cases of telegraphic stations, -which are subsidised by the central office, the observers are mostly -volunteers who are interested in meteorology, and who provide their -own instruments. - -The office receives sixty telegraphic weather reports each morning, -eighteen every afternoon, and twenty-nine each evening, in addition to -an enormous mass of data supplied by volunteer and casual observers. - -The forecast we are accustomed to find in our morning paper is -compiled from the telegraphic reports of the subsidised stations. -There is something peculiarly fascinating in the idea of the clerk of -the weather scenting out a big gale and issuing a warning hours before -its arrival on our coasts. One associates him with a prophet or witch, -and very naturally wonders how it is done. - -As a matter of fact forecast work is far from romantic, entails -very great mental labour, excellent judgment, and great scientific -knowledge and experience. - -The forecasts are made three times a day--at 11 a.m., 3.30 p.m., and -8.30 p.m. They are, of course, based on the telegraphic reports -and observations. The 8.30 p.m. forecast is made for the morning -newspapers. - -Among the volunteer observers are representatives of all professions. -In one case a deaf and dumb gentleman presides over a station of -considerable importance. - -The stations themselves are mostly situated in the observers' grounds, -and the surroundings of some of them are very picturesque. The -stations at Rousdon and Chapel Hill, Torquay, are both beautifully -situated. Princetown station is particularly interesting, because of -its situation in the yard of the great Dartmoor penal establishment! -We may be quite sure that its presence in such surroundings has -nothing to do with the well-being of the convicts themselves, the -dreary routine of whose lives is little affected by considerations of -weather. In another case, the meteorological observatory is found -on the tower of a church--that of Boston, Lincolnshire. Among the -instruments on the tower is an electrical thermometer connected with -the ground by a wire so that it may be read without the necessity -of ascending. It is impossible to over-estimate the usefulness of -a station such as this, situated as it is in the midst of purely -agricultural country. The farmers round Boston avail themselves, it -need scarcely be said, of the valuable information furnished by the -mysterious little instruments on their church tower. - -More interesting, perhaps, than any of these is the observatory -situated in a London churchyard. - -Although every day a ceaseless throng of human beings crowd and jostle -in the streets of the City of London, yet it has always been difficult -to obtain observations there, for the very good reason that scarcely -anybody lives within its precincts. The only station of the kind is to -be found in the churchyard of St. Luke's, Old Street, one of the few -restful spots in this busiest corner of the world. - -The highest station in Great Britain is that on the summit of Ben -Nevis, 4,407 feet above the sea. The northmost station is in the -Shetland Isles. - -Many gentlemen among the volunteer observers are leading -meteorological experts, and spend much time and money on the equipment -and maintenance of their stations. - -[Illustration: _Messrs. Metcalfe, photo., Richmond, Yorks_ HAILSTONES -(ACTUAL SIZE) THAT FELL AT YORK, JULY 8, 1893.] - -A very fine private observatory is that belonging to Col. Knight, of -Harestock, Winchester, of which an illustration appears on page 60. - -The scaffolding in the foreground was erected for the purpose of -lowering an earth thermometer into the ground. This instrument, which -is constructed to register the temperature seventy feet below the -surface, is contained in the wooden chamber standing at an angle to -the scaffolding, and was photographed during the sinking process. - -Besides the work of preparing weather reports and forecasts, the -office fulfils many other functions, such as the study of ocean -meteorology, climatology, and so forth. In connection with the former -work, the office annually receives some hundreds of reports and -observations from officers of ships of the Royal Navy and Mercantile -Marine. - -The fishermen and sailors round our coasts have much to thank the -office for. Besides supplying all the ports with daily weather reports -and forecasts, it has lent over 200 barometers to fishing villages and -other places on the coast for the benefit of the seafaring population. - -Fortunately in this country we suffer comparative immunity from -tornados, sirrocos, cyclones, and other dangerous natural phenomena. - -That we can produce something more ferocious than an April shower, -however, is amply demonstrated by our illustration of two huge rents -torn in a hillside at Langtoft, East Yorkshire, by the bursting of a -waterspout. - -Hailstorms are another great source of destruction. Most people will -remember the damage caused by a hailstorm in Essex last year, when -several farms and homesteads were utterly wrecked, and great numbers -of cattle killed. - -Many people who have not encountered the big hailstorm regard it with -the cheerful scepticism with which they view the sea serpent and -the abnormal gooseberry. However, by permission of the Royal -Meteorological Society, we are enabled to reproduce a photograph of -some of the hailstones--actual size--which fell in a great storm at -York on July 8th, 1893, together with a section of corrugated iron, -showing holes and damage caused by hailstones which fell in a similar -storm at Tulcumbah, N.S.W., on Oct. 13th, 1892. - -[Illustration: CORRUGATED IRON PIERCED BY HAILSTONES.] - -However, most people would rather lose a section of corrugated roofing -than encounter the flash of lightning that struck the man whose -clothes appear in the illustration on the next page. As will be seen, -the clothes are literally shredded to rags, and the strong leather -boots are torn as though they were tissue paper. - -[Illustration: MIDNIGHT PHOTOGRAPH OF LIGHTNING FLASH IN SHANGHAI -HARBOUR.] - -Photographs of lightning are no longer novel; but our picture of -a flash taken at midnight in Shanghai Harbour is one of the most -remarkable ever seen. It is some distance behind the anchored -steamer, but the reflection on the water is so vivid as to give it the -appearance of moonlight. - -The tornado is a phenomenon we can very well do without, and we -sincerely hope the clerk of the weather will give us ample notice of -the very faintest indication that one of these inanimate monsters is -coming our way. - -The tornado is soon over, it is true, but hailstorms are to be -preferred. On May 27th, 1893, a storm of this nature put in an -appearance at Wellington, Kansas, and practically wrecked the whole -city. A horse was picked up, stable and all, and blown some hundreds -of yards to leeward. The stable was smashed, but curiously enough the -horse came down on his feet and escaped unhurt. - -[Illustration: CLOTHES OF MAN STRUCK BY LIGHTNING.] - -In the same storm the Lutheran church was lifted bodily from its -foundations into the air, and fell, bottom upwards, on top of a new -residence 100 feet away, as it appears in the photograph. - -In another photograph are some collapsed houses, the result of a -similar storm in Lawrence, U.S.A. - -Although our own Meteorological Office and Society have no such -startling instances to record, yet they possess much data of equal -interest. - -For instance, how many people know that on Dec. 4th, 1879, the -thermometer registered 23 degrees below zero at a place called Black -Adder, in Berwickshire? This is the greatest degree of frost ever -known in Great Britain. The coldest spot in the world is Verkoianski, -a town in Siberia, where 120 degrees of frost have been registered. -The hottest is the Red Sea, where 120 degrees of heat are often -experienced. - -The hottest place in Great Britain, curiously enough, is London, -or rather the Thames Valley. The wettest, Seathwaite, in the Lake -District, where 8.03 inches of rainfall have been registered in 24 -hours. - -Taking 1 inch of rain to represent 101 tons of water per acre, it will -be seen that the farmers cannot complain of drought in the Seathwaite -district. - -However, the greatest rainfall ever measured in this country occurred -in Camden Square, London, on June 28, 1878, when 3-1/4 inches fell in -1-1/2 hours. - -Lately several meteorological experiments have been made with kites -and balloons, which are expected to enrich the science with many new -discoveries. - -Many people have curious ideas of the capabilities and functions of -"The clerk of the weather." Mr. Robert H. Scott. M.A., F.R.S., the -gentleman at present occupying this position, in his book on "Weather -Charts and Storm Warnings," tells some curious stories illustrative of -this. - -For instance, in June 1886 he received a letter bearing no less than -ten postmarks. It was addressed "Weather Office, Strand, London." Its -contents were--"Three next days order to be fine." - -A Boston letter was addressed--Right Hon. Clerk of Weather, 9, Downing -Street, London, W.C. - -Its contents were-- - -"My Lord Clerk,--May it please your lordship you will greatly oblige -your humble servant by writing or sending me a telegraph whether it -will be fine or no on the 5th of November, 1867. - - "I have the honour to remain, - "Your lordship's most obedient servant, - "Joseph William ----." - -Such letters are by no means rare, though such ignorance seems -scarcely credible in the nineteenth century. - -[Illustration: _Boak & Co., Photo, Bridlington Quay_ - -HILL TORN BY WATERSPOUT, LANGTOFT, E. YORKS] - -Further, there are many false prophets who prophesy without science, -and they rarely miss the opportunity of sending along a forecast in -order to give the constituted clerk of the weather a leg up in his -arduous duties. - -There are also many amateur weather prophets. - -One of these gentlemen issued monthly postcard forecasts for more than -twelve months between 1882 and 1883. - -If they are wrong, nobody bothers, but if the S.W. gale predicted from -the Meteorological Office fails to put in an appearance, woe to the -unfortunate clerk of the weather. People forget how many times his -predictions have been verified. - -If one is interested in meteorological work and is anxious to become -an observer, the path is by no means difficult. On application at the -office a form is sent, which must be filled up. Certain particulars as -to the observer's fitness are naturally required, and he is invited to -forward a description of his residence and a plan of the spot on which -he would suggest erecting his instruments. - -He must also describe the natural surroundings, so that the office may -decide whether they are likely to have any prejudicial effect on the -instruments, and therefore affect the accuracy of the records. - -Each observer supplies his own instruments, and if his application is -accepted, a book of instructions on their correct use is sent to him. - -Or he may obtain instruction at the London office, or any of its chief -agencies. In all these places sets of instruments are kept in working -order for the express purpose of instructing observers in the methods -of observation. - -[Illustration: COLONEL KNIGHT'S 70-FOOT EARTH THERMOMETER, -WINCHESTER.] - -I suppose most of our readers, during a stay at some port or favourite -watering place, have observed a curious triangular black object -suspended from the pier or jetty signal-mast. - -Those who have enquired as to its nature will know that it is the -signal of an approaching storm. On receiving telegraphic notice of -an atmospheric disturbance on or near the British coasts, the -Meteorological Office telegraphs to all the chief ports and fishing -stations. - -The telegram is exhibited at the foot of the signal-mast, and the -warning signal, a black canvas cone 3 feet high and 3 feet wide at the -base, is immediately hoisted. - -The nature and direction of the approaching storm is indicated by the -position of the cone. - -At night three lanterns hung on a triangular frame supply its place. - -Storm warning telegrams are supplied to some 215 stations, of which -117 are in England and Wales, 63 in Scotland, 28 in Ireland, 4 in the -Isle of Man, and 3 in the Channel Islands. - -Another branch of the work, of invaluable service to navigators, is -the preparation of monthly current charts of the oceans of the world. -Observations are constantly being made by captains of ocean-going -vessels, and the data are forwarded whenever possible to the Weather -Office. A strict account of the currents recorded in each month has -been kept for 60 years! - - - - -HER LETTER! - -ONE OF J. HARWOOD PANTING'S INTERESTING NARRATIVES. - -_Illustrations by W. B. Wollen, R.I._ - - -Brussels--evening--an evening which preceded a still more memorable -morn. To be precise, it was the 15th of June, in the year of grace -eighteen hundred and fifteen. - -Captain John Durnford, of the Guards, stood outside the Chapelle du -Saint Sacrament des Miracles. The air was full of rumours. Napoleon -had been striding Europe like a Colossus. No one knew what would be -his next move on the strategical chessboard. But it was not of him, -nor of the events connected with him, that John Durnford was thinking -as he stood before the Chapelle. - -He had heard of the death of a woman whom he had tenderly loved. Years -ago, before he entered the army, they had been sweethearts. Then they -had drifted apart; and now he had discovered, quite accidentally, -that she had died but two days ago, homeless, friendless. And yet -not entirely that. Her last moments had been tended by Sister Anne, a -_religieuse_, and it was to see her that Jack was waiting outside the -Chapelle. - -Presently, the hour of nine was chimed from the surrounding belfries. -Almost simultaneously, the door of the Chapelle was opened, and the -_religieuse_ came out. - -"Pardon me," said Jack, approaching her, hat in hand; "but am I -speaking to Sister Anne?" - -[Illustration: "'AM I SPEAKING TO SISTER ANNE?'"] - -"Yes, my son." - -"You are the lady, are you not, who so charitably befriended Mdlle. -Denton?" - -"I but did my duty, my son." - -"Ah, if all the world would but interpret duty in the same way! I am -an old friend of Mdlle. Denton's, and it was only by chance I heard of -her death. Could you let me see her before--before----" - -Jack's voice faltered. He did not complete the sentence. - -"Before she is buried, you would say? I understand," said Sister Anne, -sympathetically. "Poor child! I thought she hadn't a friend in the -world. It seems I was mistaken. Will you follow me?" - -She took him through a labyrinth of streets, and paused before a -ramshackle old house which had seen and withstood the storms of more -than one revolution. - -"You would like to be alone with the dead?" asked the Sister. - -"If Madame will grant me that favour." - -She rang the bell, whispered to the drowsy old _concierge_, and, -with a _Benedicite_, was gone. The _concierge_ conducted him up -the staircase, pointed to a door, gave him a lighted candle, and -descended. - -Jack opened the door, and as he did so a gust of wind blew out his -light and left him in darkness. He had just time, however, to see -the white-shrouded figure stretched on the bed in the corner. He -approached it reverently, and stood by the side of the shroud, with -thoughts which choked themselves for utterance. - -"Poor, poor Minnie! This, then, is the finish!" - -What was that? His moan, he thought, was echoed by another. He quickly -put the thought from him. - -He put his hand gently forward to feel the face of the dead woman, and -in doing so it rested upon something warm, palpable. He could almost -have shrieked, the transition of feeling was so great--between the -ice-cold rigour he had anticipated, and the warmth of animate life. -What could it mean? - -He had no time for conjecture, for the hand which he had extended -to the face of the dead was clasped by another hand--the hand of the -living. - -"In Heaven's name, who are you?" demanded Jack. - -There was no answer; then Jack repeated his question in French. This -time there came an answer. - -"One--one who loved her, Monsieur! By what right are you here? - -"By as great a right as yours--as one who loved her, too." - -Jack thought he heard a curse between clenched teeth. - -"Love? _Peste!_ What does a cold-blooded Anglais know of love? You -come here as a thief in the night." - -"Thief!" Jack exclaimed. "I suppose you know the meaning of the words -you have used?" - -"_Parbleu!_ How could I do otherwise, since Monsieur himself has -provided me with an illustration? Is it the act of an honest man to -steal into a chamber? Is it the act of a gentleman to encroach upon -another's grief? No; it is the act of a _vauvien_; for it is insult to -the living and profanation to the dead." - -The man was evidently distraught with grief; so Jack replied calmly, -"You talk of profanation to the dead. It would indeed be profanation -were I to imitate your language. I am willing to admit that you excel -in your nice selection of epithets, but I deny your love for the poor -dead girl lying here by your use of them." - -[Illustration: "BEAUTIFUL SHE LOOKED, EVEN IN DEATH."] - -Jack's calmness of utterance, so strongly in contrast to that of the -stranger, produced some effect upon his hearer. There was a lengthy -pause. Save for the sharp breathing of the two men confronting each -other, the chamber might have been given up entirely to the dead. -It seemed in that pause as though the still form in the shroud were -listening for an answer. - -At length the stranger spoke, his voice now tremulous and pathetic: - -"You doubt my love for her? _Eh, bien!_ I loved her as few men could -have loved. I have confronted death once, twice this day to see her -dear, dead face. I have confronted--still confront--what is worse than -death: disgrace and ignominy. Has Monsieur done as much?" - -"No," said Jack, sententiously, touched yet chagrined by the man's -passion. - -"Until Monsieur has done as much, has he the presumption to say that -he has as great a right to stand here as I?" - -"Presumption!" cried Jack. "By whatever right I stand here, I -certainly question your right to use such terms to me. But before we -discuss the point further, would it not be as well to have a light?" - -There was a hasty movement on the part of the figure opposite. - -"If you stir, you are a dead man." - -There was a faint ray of light shining through the window, not -sufficient for Jack to see the person before him, but sufficient to -see the cold gleam of steel. It was a sword. This man was a soldier, -then, and an enemy. Jack now understood his allusion to the peril he -had run in coming there, and admired his bravery. His love for Minnie -Denton must indeed have been great. - -"You spoke about ignominy just now," said Jack. "I don't know whether -your interpretation of the phrase is the same as mine. But a British -soldier--for I, too, am a soldier--considers that there is no greater -ignominy than that of being suspected of cowardice. I should be a -coward if I cared for your threats. I'm going to get a light." - -"Pardon me. You are a brave man. I did wrong to threaten you." -Jack heard the sword return to its scabbard. "Let me appeal to your -honour." - -"That is an appeal which has never been made to me in vain." - -"My visit here has been a secret. I wish it to remain so. This much -only I may tell you--that I am an officer in the French army, enjoying -a position of great responsibility and trust. You see the risk I have -run." - -Jack started. This man had indeed risked much to see the last of the -woman he loved. - -"You say that your visit here is a secret one; and yet you reproached -me just now with being a thief in the night. I will not retaliate; for -I too can respect a brave man. I will only say that your confidence -will not be betrayed." - -Jack stretched out his hand. It was again clasped by the stranger. -They stood thus for a moment, hand in hand, over the dead. - -Then the stranger bent, and Jack could hear him whispering terms of -endearment to ears that could not hear, and pressing kisses upon lips -that could not respond. - -"Now, Monsieur, I am going," he said, at length. "I thank you for your -patience, and will send up the _concierge_ with a light. You will then -be able to read this letter. Oblige me by taking it. From it you will -see who is the most entitled to her love. It was the last letter she -ever wrote. You say you are a soldier? _Eh, bien_, when next we meet, -Monsieur, it will be in a different place. As we have learned to -respect each other, I hope to show that respect in the best way a -soldier can--by crossing swords with you. _Jusqu'au revoir!_" - -[Illustration: "HE WAS STOPPED AT THE ENTRANCE BY A GENDARME."] - -"_Au revoir_, Monsieur!" - -In a moment or two Jack heard the stranger go out, and the _concierge_ -came stumbling up with a light. Jack took it from him, and gazed upon -the face of Minnie Denton. Beautiful she looked, even in death. The -pain and agony of the last struggle had gone and left the features -placid, as one in peaceful sleep. - -Years ago he had loved her deeply, tenderly, and she had returned his -love. Then they had quarrelled. The breach between them had widened, -and in a fit of desperation he enlisted. Europe was at the time one -great battlefield, and Jack was immediately sent on active service. So -he had altogether lost sight of his old love. - -He had been with Wellington in the Peninsula, and after serving with -a bravery which had gained him the eulogiums of his general, had been -drafted with his regiment to Brussels just prior to the time when -Napoleon escaped from Elba. - -There had not been much time to think of love while these stirring -events were transpiring, but the news of his old sweetheart's death, -in the very city in which he was stationed, had touched a tender -chord. - -Jack mused mournfully upon the past as he looked down on the still, -silent face. She had been fickle; yet had not he? What would their -fate have been had they not quarrelled? Would it have been widely -different? Perchance she would have been a happy mother; he, a happy -father; or they might have been utterly miserable. - -Whatever Fate might or might not have had in store for them in other -circumstances, it was galling to think that her last thoughts had been -of this stranger--a Frenchman and an enemy. - -But was it true? There could, alas! be little doubt of it, for had -not the Frenchman left with him the best--rather he would say, the -worst--of all testimony: her own letter? What stronger evidence of her -fickleness could there be than that? - -Jack turned to the light and looked at the letter which had been -placed in his hand. - -Good heavens! What was this? - -[Illustration: "THE DUKE AND HE HELD A WHISPERED CONVERSATION."] - -It was no love letter, but a document folded in the shape of a letter. -Jack looked at it eagerly, and read it through not once, but twice, -and thrice. - -It was Napoleon's directions to his generals, signed by the Emperor -himself, containing specific instructions respecting the forthcoming -battle against the allied forces. The one line that burnt itself into -Jack's brain was that an advance was to be made upon Quatre Bras early -the next morning. Wellington had no suspicion that the advance was to -be made so soon; for Jack knew that he and many of the officers were -at a ball given by the Duchess of Richmond in the Grande Place. - -The Frenchman had said that he was an officer, enjoying a position of -great responsibility and trust. Jack saw it all. He had given him this -document instead of, as he supposed, the dead woman's letter. Then -came to Jack a question of honour. Had he the right to use this -information? - -He did not pause long to consider the point. The safety of his country -was at stake. That was enough. The old maxim, "All is fair in love and -war," had now a double signification. So Jack hurried along with all -possible speed to the Grande Place. - -The ball was at its height. The strains of music, the laughter of the -dancers, came to Jack as he neared the Duchess's residence. - -He was stopped at the entrance to the hall by a gendarme. - -"Est ce que vous avez votre billet, Monsieur?" - -"Non." - -"Alors je ne puis pas vous admettre." - -Jack explained it was of the utmost importance that he should see the -Duke of Wellington, and at length he was ushered up the staircase into -an ante-room, while an attendant went in search of the Duke. - -Jack had a full view of the ballroom as he waited. As in a -kaleidoscope he saw the gleam of many uniforms, fair faces, white -shoulders, slender graceful forms--alternate flashes of scarlet and -white--as couple after couple whirled by in the mazy waltz. Presently -from out the maze came one martial figure which Jack knew well. There -could be no mistaking that stern, immobile face, the tightly pressed -lips, the prominent Roman nose. It was the Iron Duke! - -"Well, sir, you wish to see me?" was his laconic greeting. - -"Yes, General, on a matter of life and death. Read that." - -He handed the Duke the document he had received from the Frenchman. -His searching eyes had grasped its contents in a moment; yet he -betrayed no excitement or astonishment. - -"Where did you get this?" he calmly asked. - -Jack briefly explained the circumstances under which he had obtained -possession of the document. The Duke turned to his aide-de-camp. - -"Tell General Picton I wish to see him immediately." - -In a minute or two the aide-de-camp returned with the General. - -[Illustration: "THE FRENCHMAN WAS A VERY SKILFUL SWORDSMAN, JACK -EQUALLY SO."] - -"Napoleon left Frasne this morning," said Wellington. "The Prussians -have fallen back. Ziethen has been beaten. Napoleon is marching now -upon Quatre Bras. Read that." - -Picton read the document, and studied the plan. Then the Duke and he -held a whispered consultation. The aide-de-camp returned again and -again to the ballroom, and Jack saw the officers stealing away one by -one. Then the Duke turned to Jack: - -"You have done well in bringing me this document. I will not forget -it. Prepare to join your regiment." - -Jack saluted, and passed into the street. As he did so, the bell -of the Hotel de Ville boomed one. Simultaneously could be heard the -tramp, tramp of the Highland regiments as they defiled into the Grande -Place. - -The British forces were preparing to meet the enemy. - -In the morning the two armies found themselves ranged in battle array -opposite each other. - -Then came the opening struggle at Quatre Bras, followed by the yet -more memorable death-wrestle of nations at Waterloo. - -No need to repeat the incidents of that famous day--Picton's bravery, -Napoleon's strategy, Wellington's tenacity of purpose, the glorious -stand around the farmhouse of La Haye Sainte. - -Napoleon charged again and again the immovable British centre. -The destinies of nations hung in the balance, and it was not until -Wellington gave the famous command--"Up, Guards, and at them!"--that -the balance turned to the side of victory. - -Jack was foremost in the charge, and as his column swept down the -slope, he heard a voice cry out to the fleeing Frenchmen: - -"Arrêtez! Arrêtez!" - -He recognised the voice as that of the man whom he had met at the -shroud of Minnie Denton. Though the interview had only been brief, he -could recall every accent. The voice was one he was never likely to -forget. - -Finding his efforts to check the retreating soldiers unavailing, the -officer turned and faced the pursuing column. - -Jack was the first to reach him. The rest of the column swept on, -leaving the two face to face, sword to sword. - -"Your prophecy has come true, Monsieur," said Jack. "We have met -again--a little sooner probably than you anticipated." - -"Ah! it is you," said the officer. "Truly pleased to see you. We are -destined, it seems, to be rivals till the last. I beat you in love, -you will admit; and I shall do my best to----" - -He did not finish the sentence. Steel met steel; the sparks flew from -the quivering blades. The Frenchman was a very skilful swordsman, Jack -equally so. Jack at last with an adroit parry sent the sword from his -adversary's hand. - -Jack was stooping to pick up the weapon when a stray shot hit the -Frenchman in the breast. He fell with a groan from his horse. Jack -quickly dismounted, and knelt by his side. - -[Illustration: "JACK QUICKLY DISMOUNTED, AND KNELT BY HIS SIDE."] - -"Ah, Monsieur, it is very good of you," he gasped, as Jack raised his -head; "it is very, very good of you; but I am dying. The fortune of -love was with me; the fortune of war is with you." - -Jack strove to staunch the blood that was gushing from the wound, but -in vain. The wound was a mortal one. - -"It is useless," gasped the Frenchman. "Nothing can be done, and I -would rather die than be a prisoner. You are my enemy, but you are a -gentleman. One thing I would ask you. Minnie--Mdlle. Denton--is to be -buried to-morrow, Bury us in one grave. It is all I ask." - -Jack promised. He felt a great pressure from the hand resting within -his; then the head fell back in his arms. A brave soldier had fought -his last battle. - -Simultaneously there rose on the air a great shout. It was the shout -of the conquering army announcing that the battle of Waterloo had been -fought and won. - - - - -SERMONS WITHOUT WORDS - -A MARVELLOUS PERFORMANCE IN DUMB SHOW. - - -Not a quarter of a mile from the Marble Arch, on the left side of -Oxford Street (No. 419, Oxford Street, as a matter of fact), looking -towards the Park, there stands a dull, unpretentious, red brick -edifice, so unpretentious indeed that in spite of its ecclesiastical -appearance it is unnoticed by the majority of passers by. - -The bulk of the teeming thousands who pride themselves that they know -their London are ignorant of its whereabouts, nor are the countless -legions who daily pass through the busy thoroughfare better informed. - -Nor is it surprising; for there is little but a tiny cross on the -coping stone, and a dingy notice board behind dingier railings, -to mark one of the most interesting buildings in all London--St. -Saviour's Church, the cathedral of London's 2,000 deaf and dumb. - -Here Sunday by Sunday the silent poor and the silent rich worship -together. Outside, the roll of traffic merges into one long dull roar -that may distract the thoughts of worshippers in other churches, but -to the congregation of St. Saviour's makes no difference. They cannot -hear it. - -[Illustration: JUSTICE (WEIGHING WITH SCALES).] - -I had heard much of the Rev. F. W. G. Gilby's wonderful method of -preaching to his people, how he has become thoroughly conversant not -only with the old-fashioned finger spelling familiar to those who have -watched the conversation of the deaf and dumb, but can also by means -of gesture and acting make use of a system of preaching richer in -suggestion, wider in range, and infinitely more effective in its scope -and power of riveting the interest of his flock. - -Accordingly, one wet Thursday evening a short time ago, I made one of -the congregation at evening service, curious to take part in such a -service myself. I am never likely to forget the impression that -quiet service made on me, nor to relieve my mind of the feeling of -overwhelming depression at the realisation that this little crowd of -afflicted people, miserably and unutterably poor in the majority of -cases, was living, moving, and breathing in our very midst, helpless -yet happy, willing and intelligent, yet almost entirely dependent -on this one enthusiastic, unselfish man for their comfort--not only -spiritual, but in many cases, as I discovered, material as well. - -I have not the space, nor is it in my province in this short article, -to describe or appeal on behalf of the needs of this institution, but -the interested ones should see for themselves, and if within their -power, help. - -Excepting the chaplain's wife, herself an expert follower of her -husband's method, I was the first to arrive. The lights were low, -and there was nothing about the dim church save the absence of choir -stalls and pulpit to suggest the unusual nature of its mission. - -Presently a distant door opened, a shuffling step dragged along the -aisle. The first member of the congregation took his rags with him -into a front seat. He was a shoeblack down on his luck, but nobody -turned him out. In Mr. Gilby's flock all are equals, all are friends -in their common adversity. The first seats are for the first comers. - -A few moments later and the congregation was nearly complete. Here and -there one caught a flash of recognition between two friends, then up -went two pairs of hands flashing white in the dim light as an animated -conversation took place across the church. By the time the church was -half full a whole volley of chatter was playing round; everywhere -the darkness was alive with flickering, speaking hands, and faces -vibrating with expressive gesture. It was an odd scene, weird -and uncanny to the hearing visitor who sat misunderstood and not -understanding amid the silent throng. - -[Illustration: 1. "DEAR] - -[Illustration: 2. DEAF AND DUMB] - -[Illustration: 3. FRIENDS] - -[Illustration: 4. WE] - -[Illustration: 5. WISH YOU] - -In a few moments the chaplain, attired in the usual canonicals, -appeared, and the service commenced. - -Throughout the proceedings there was no sound but the dull roar of -passing omnibuses and cabs outside. Not a hymn, not a word, only that -indescribable hush, almost unnerving to one strange to the scene. -Yet throughout the service, in the prayers, in the sermon, not an eye -strayed from the slight figure talking in a language of his own at the -little desk on the altar steps. - -At first the ghostly reality of this strange sermon dispelled all -other thoughts. It did not seem comprehensible that there could be any -connection between the chaplain and the attentive congregation, but -here and there one could catch a reflection of one of his gestures on -the face of an intent watcher. - -Then a more than usually familiar passage was signalled, and a broad -intelligent smile passed swiftly across the faces of the congregation, -and they nodded and looked towards each other comprehendingly. - -Then for the first time one realised that the flying fingers playing -rapidly above the reading desk, flickering now high and now low, -like the figures in a kinetoscope picture, meant something; that the -gestures, the graceful swaying of the body, the marvellous play of -the features, all had their meaning; that each little movement was -intelligible to the watchers as the word of a spoken sermon, and -infinitely more expressive. - -As the utter novelty of the scene became more familiar, I found myself -trying to interpret the drift of the sermon, and it was little short -of marvellous how intelligible a great number of the gestures were, -even to one untrained and unused to sign language. - -The acting and gestures in many sentences were so obvious, that it was -almost as though the words were rather the equivalents of the signs -than _vice versâ_. It was, indeed, an astonishing revelation of the -possibilities of human expression. When the faculty is combined with -a system of word signs intelligible to the merest child, it will be -understood how much may be done in this way, without recourse to the -more tedious method of spelling out each word separately, although -this is necessary where the sign imagery is so subtle as only to -appeal to highly cultivated imaginations. - -As a matter of fact, Mr. Gilby has a marvellous faculty in this -direction, that has been fostered and perfected by life-long study. So -much is this the case, indeed, that I doubt if he could be equalled in -this direction by any one of our greatest actors. - -Presently the service was at an end. There was a little desultory -silent conversation, and the congregation dispersed, just as it -came, without a sound. Three or four stragglers, clean and -intelligent-looking, but obviously poor, remained behind, and -presently made their way up the altar steps, and into the tiny vestry. - -[Illustration: 6. JOINED TOGETHER] - -[Illustration: 7. IN ONE HEART AND ONE MIND,] - -[Illustration: 8. IMITATING] - -[Illustration: 9. CHRIST] - -[Illustration: 10. UNTIL] - -[Illustration: 11. THE CHURCH] - -[Illustration: 12. IS COMPLETE."] - -I followed them, and when each had stated his different wants and -difficulties, and received relief and comfort, I persuaded Mr. Gilby -to assist me in the preparation of this article, illustrative of his -remarkable work. - -It will be readily granted by those who examine our interesting series -of photographs, that my demands on his good nature were by no means -moderate. Those who object to being photographed almost as much as -they dislike the necessary visit to the dentist--and Mr. Gilby is one -of these--will appreciate Mr. Gilby's feelings when our photographer -desired not only one siting, but a dozen. However, Mr. Gilby will -be more than compensated if this article is the means of attracting -public attention to the afflicted ones that are his especial charge. - -The most important photographs we give are those that illustrate a -message that I have prevailed on Mr. Gilby to issue through these -pages to the deaf and dumb of the British Empire. The message is -necessarily brief and short: as it is we are obliged to print twelve -photographs in order to do it justice. The exact message is as -follows:-- - -"Dear deaf and dumb friends, we wish you joined together in one heart -and one mind, imitating Christ until the Church is complete." - -The appropriateness of many of Mr. Gilby's signs becomes immediately -apparent on glancing at the photographs, but some are not as clear as -others. "Deaf and dumb" is signified by rapidly touching the mouth and -the ear; "friend," by shaking hands with oneself; "we," by pointing at -oneself, at the persons addressed, and vaguely to the left to indicate -people in general; and "joined together," by opening the hands, and -then bringing them together closed. A most interesting sign is that -representing "Christ," where a finger is pressed into the palm of each -hand in rapid succession, as if to indicate the piercings of the nails -of the cross; and scarcely less remarkable is that which denotes the -"Church"--the motions being those of one ringing church bells! - -Excellent as these photographs are, they convey but a slight -impression of the effect produced by a sermon in Mr. Gilby's -gesture-language. It must be understood that his is no laborious art. -Distinct and picturesque as Mr. Gilby's motions are, they succeed -one another with the rapidity of words penned by an expert shorthand -writer. On one occasion, indeed, Canon Wilberforce--one of the most -fiery orators of the day--addressed our deaf and dumb congregation, -and Mr. Gilby, who stood by the side of the eloquent Canon to -interpret the discourse, experienced no difficulty in keeping level -with him. It will thus be seen that, as practised by an expert, the -art of gesture-language leaves little room for improvement. As a -matter of fact, the sentence given above would be "signed" by Mr. -Gilby, in the course of an ordinary pulpit address, in about three -seconds. - -[Illustration: "KNOWLEDGE."] - -Needless to say those signs that are to be expressive of themselves -require to be of the most suggestive nature in order to be readily -understood, and it is in the invention of these that the teacher -of the deaf and dumb may find a great field for the exercise of his -ingenuity. - -In a great number of cases there are signs which are universally -accepted and understood by deaf mutes the world over. On the other -hand, each school has its own special gestures, equally expressive but -peculiar to itself, and in the department of versatility of gesture -Mr. Gilby is second to none. In fact, I have seen him express an idea -in half a dozen ways, and each one of them could have been interpreted -with ease by a half wit. - -In the majority of cases the photographs illustrating the gestures -have been taken in an entirely novel way. - -By making several exposures on one plate we have sought to illustrate -the various movements composing those gestures which are of a -composite description. Where a word or idea is expressed by a -single sign, this is, of course, unnecessary. One photograph is -all-sufficient. - -It may possibly occur to many that there might be considerable -difficulty in conveying a difference of expression in the same idea; -that is to say, the difference indicated in spoken language by a mere -variation of inflection in the voice. As a matter of fact, the sign -language is even more expressive in this particular. An excellent -illustration of this is given in two photographs on page 71. Both -gestures express the same idea--a parting between two friends. In -the first of the two you have the parting in which there is a little -sadness. The idea of separation is conveyed by the hand leading the -other away. That it is a matter of regret is shown by the expression -of the face and the nod of the head. - -In the second photograph of the pair you still have the parting. This -time, however, it is a humorous rendering which might be used with -happy felicity at the conclusion of a platform speech, where the -speaker wished to convey a sort of "Well, I'm sorry to go, but I -must," notion. Here the separation is humorously expressed by the -suggestion of brute force brought to bear on the speaker's collar. - -[Illustration: "CONVERSATION" (OPENING AND SHUTTING FINGERS AS THE -MOUTHS OF BIRDS CHATTERING).] - -In similar fashion many inflections may be given to the same idea, and -with the indispensable assistance of facial expression the elements of -Hope, Tragedy, Comedy, Fear, are introduced. - -The extraordinary mobility of Mr. Gilby's features must prove of -the utmost service to him. With a scarcely perceptible quiver of the -features his face expresses alternate Tragedy and Humour. So much so, -indeed, that one feels that he is throwing his whole nature into each -and every fleeting gesture. And this is probably the secret of his -success, for to this pale-faced, highly strung man the cause of the -deaf mute is as life itself. - -The education of the deaf and dumb is necessarily limited, though -the general impression that they are deficient in mental capacity is -entirely erroneous. On the contrary, brightness, intelligence, and, -curiously enough, content are their chief characteristics. Such -educational limitations as exist are an unavoidable result of the -tedious and trying system that must be gone through in order to give a -deaf and dumb child even the rudiments of an education. - -If you wish to teach such an one what a cow is and how to spell the -word, there is only one method, and that is to place a picture of a -cow before it and write the word on paper till it comprehends that the -letters C O W represent the name of the animal in question. - -It will be seen, therefore, that only those who have enjoyed very -exceptional educational advantages are in a position to appreciate -some of the deeper abstract ideas of philosophy and the sciences. - -[Illustration: "PARTING."] - -Abstract ideas are difficult of adequate expression, therefore, not -because they cannot be suggested by the sign language, but by reason -of the reader's own inability to comprehend their significance. Some -of the more general ideas of an abstract nature are, however, -taught with comparative ease. We give two examples. Both are almost -self-explanatory. The first (on p. 70) expresses Knowledge, or Wisdom; -the second (p. 67) is a sign demonstrative of Justice. Nothing could -be clearer, of course. It is simply a mimetic illustration of the -symbolical picture of Justice blind, and so impartial, holding the -scales. The right hand is first placed in the position of holding the -scales, and is then rapidly brought down on a level with the other, -thus picturing the scales. - -[Illustration: "STUPIDITY" (THE ASS).] - -Two other pictures illustrate signs of a peculiarly expressive -nature. Nobody will want to be told what a deaf and dumb man means -who describes you with the sign shown below. The lower picture on the -preceding page is Mr. Gilby's way of expressing the fact that he has -been holding a conversation with someone. It will be noticed that -there are two positions of the forefinger, which are intended to -indicate that this finger is snapped rapidly against the thumb. It is -more or less a humorous way of expressing the idea, and as actually -illustrated by Mr. Gilby is exceedingly comic. A more sedate way of -expressing the idea would be to hold the hands in the same position, -but to draw them slowly apart and towards each other. - -I feel that no article on this subject would be complete without some -special illustration of the enormous part pure facial expression plays -in Mr. Gilby's peculiar method. Indeed it is in his case a fine art, -and must represent an enormous increase in the effectiveness of his -addresses and lectures, and consequently in the happiness and comfort -they give his silent audiences. - -[Illustration: "LET ME THINK."] - -[Illustration: "HAD IT ON THE TIP OF MY TONGUE."] - -[Illustration: "NOW, WHAT WAS IT!"] - -[Illustration: "AH! WAIT!"] - -[Illustration: "NO! I GIVE IT UP."] - -Five photographs illustrative of a little lapse of memory explain -better than any words what I mean. Without strict attention to -grammar, I will call this Forgetfulness, More Forgetfulness, Most -Forgetfulness, Still more Forgetful, Forgotten. - -This series will be an object lesson on the debt we all owe that -fleeting, intangible thing we call Human Expression. - -No article is complete without its story. Mr. Gilby is full of -stories, but I have only space for one, and that looks weak on paper -when I remember how inimitably it was acted when he gave it to me. - -Some time since he was due to give a short address in the schoolroom -under the church. The Vicarage adjoins the sacred edifice, and he -therefore decided it was unnecessary to change the light indoor shoes -he was wearing in his study. Accordingly he wore them on the platform -downstairs and commenced his address. - -A few moments later he happened to quote the text in which the -words, "I cast my shoe," occur. Now obviously the best sign for the -expression of this idea was a gentle kick. Mr. Gilby gave it, but the -demonstration proved much more literal than he had intended, for a -second later his shoe flew through the air and dropped in the midst of -an immensely amused audience. - -The story emphasises Mr. Gilby's belief that humour is, and always -should be, a valuable ally in the higher education of the deaf and -dumb. - -It is an infallible means of securing that closer understanding and -sympathy between teacher and pupil which raises teaching from the dull -mechanical level of routine to a fine art. - -Humour in his case is a natural gift--perhaps one of his greatest. -It peeps out unbidden in his sermons. It renders his lectures and -addresses delightful to deaf, dumb, and hearing visitors alike, and -one cannot but feel that in all the many branches of his work it turns -sadness into sunshine and depression into an unfaltering hope for the -future. - -The scope of this article on St. Saviour's Church does not permit of -our entering upon the hotly-contested methods of educating the deaf, -whether by the lips or by manual signs or spelling. Mr. Gilby is one -of the Government Inspectors of Schools, and, having been born of -deaf parents, and brought up amongst the afflicted, may reasonably be -presumed to have a right judgment in these matters. For himself, he is -an ardent upholder of the Combined System--often known as the American -way of instructing the deaf. He differs in toto from any who may think -that Missions to the Deaf are unnecessary, for by learning speech they -are raised to the same level as their more fortunate brethren who can -hear. - -In conclusion I cannot repay Mr. Gilby's courtesy and kind assistance -in the preparation of this article better than by repeating the wish I -feel to be nearest his heart:-- - -If you have an opportunity, help the Deaf and Dumb. - -ALFRED ARKAS. - - - - -THE CHANCELLOR'S WARD. - -PERHAPS MR. RICHARD MARSH'S BEST SHORT STORY. - -_Illustrated by F. H. Townsend_. - - -I. - -One really ought to write, She married him, not, He married her. - -"The simple question is, my dear Tommy, are you going to take me or -leave me?" - -This was in Hyde Park. They were seated on one of those seats which -are in front of the police station. Neither of them ought to have been -there. Which, of course, was one of the reasons why they were. Mr. -Stanham turned his eyeglass full upon Miss Cullen. Perhaps he thought -that that was sufficient answer. Anyhow, she went on-- - -"In other words, are you going to marry me, or are you not?" - -[Illustration: "'ARE YOU GOING TO MARRY ME, OR ARE YOU NOT?'"] - -"I am; Gad, I should rather hope so. I say, don't be too hard upon a -fellow, Frank." - -"Call me Fanny, don't call me Frank! Don't you know that my name is -Frances, sir, which has absolutely no connection with Frank!" - -"That's all right, old man." - -That's what Mr. Stanham murmured. Extraordinary how some men do talk -to women nowadays, even to the women whom they love! - -"Then, if you do intend to marry me, Mr. Thomas Stanham, you'll be so -good as to do so on Thursday morning next before noon." - -Mr. Stanham began to scratch the gravel with his stick. - -"And get seven years' penal." - -"Stuff! They don't give you penal servitude for marrying wards in -Chancery. It's contempt of court." - -"Yes, I know. Have to wash out your cell at Holloway, and stand at -'attention,' with your hat off, while the governor cuts you dead." - -"Then perhaps you will be so good as to tell me what it is that you -do propose to do. Do you imagine that you are the sort of person the -court of Chancery will ever allow to marry me?" - -"Haven't so much imagination, my dear Frank." - -"Call me Fanny, not Frank! You are not to call me Frank. Then do you -suppose that I'm the sort of girl who's willing to wait, and not -marry her sweetheart, until she's twenty-five? Because if you suppose -anything of that kind, we must be perfect strangers." - -"It's very good of you, I'm sure." - -"Oh, I daresay. You don't love me that much." Miss Cullen flicked her -parasol. "Because a horrid old uncle chooses to say that I'm to be a -ward of the court until I'm five and twenty, am I to be a spinster all -my life? If you loved me the least little bit, you'd invite the Lord -Chancellor to come and see you marry me in the middle of Hyde Park, -even if, directly the deed was done, he had your head cut off on Tower -Hill." - -"Thanks, dear boy." - -Of course he married her. On the morning of the specified Thursday she -went out for a stroll, and he went out for a stroll, and they met at -the registrar's, and, as she put it, the deed was done. And, when the -deed was done, she went home to lunch, and he went, not home to lunch, -but to a private place, where he could swear. Now here they were, both -of them, at Tuttenham. They encountered each other on the doorstep. -She said, "How do you do, Mr. Stanham?" And he said, "How do you do, -Miss Cullen?" - -[Illustration: "THEY ENCOUNTERED EACH OTHER ON THE DOORSTEP."] - -"Nice way in which to have to greet your own wife," he told himself, -having reached the comparatively safe solitude of his own apartment. - -Then the Duke got him into his own particular smoking-room. The Duke -was in an armchair. Mr. Stanham stood before the fireplace with his -hands in his pockets. The talk wandered from Dan to Beersheba. Then, -a good deal _à propos des bottes_, the Duke dropped what he evidently -intended to be taken as a hint. - -"If you take my advice, young man, you'll keep clear of Frances -Cullen. She's here." - -Mr. Stanham winced. - -"Is she? Yes. I know. I met her on the steps." - -"Did you!" The Duke eyed him. He, not improbably, had observed the -wince. "Warnings are issued all along that coast. Steer clear." - -"What do you think they'd do to a man if he were to marry her?" - -"Do to him! Tommy! I hope you're not meditating such a crime. She's -not an ordinary ward of the court, any more than she's an ordinary -millionaire." - -"So I suppose." - -"You had a little run with her in town. Everybody had their eyes on -you, as you're aware. And when the Duchess told me she was coming, -I'd half a mind to write and put you off--fact! This is not a house -in which even tacit encouragement can be offered to a dalliance with -crime. Not"--the Duke puffed at his pipe--"not that she's half a bad -sort of girl. She's clever. Very pretty. And she's got a way about her -which plays havoc with a man." - -"Much obliged to you, I'm sure." - -"What do you mean?" - -"For saying a good word for my wife." - -"Your wife?" - -"Mrs. Thomas Stanham--_née_ Cullen." - -"Tommy!--You don't mean it!" - -"You can bet your pile I do,--and then safely go one better. I've got -a copy of the marriage certificate in my pocket, and I rather fancy -that she's got the original document in hers." - -"You--young blackguard!" - -"Sort of cousin of yours, aint I, Datchet? It's all in the family, you -know. Blackguard, and all." - -"How did you do it?--And when?--And who knows?" - -"Only you and me, and the lady. That's what's weighing on my mind. -What's the good of having a wife, if she ain't your wife--or, at any -rate, if you daren't say that she's your wife, for the life of you?" - -The Duke suddenly rose from his seat. He seemed to be in a state of -actual agitation. - -"Tommy, do you know that the Chancellor is coming here?" - -"Who?" - -"The Lord Chancellor. The carriage went to meet him an hour ago. I -expect him every moment." - -Mr. Stanham looked a trifle blank. - -"I didn't know the ministry was formed." - -"It's formed, but it's not announced; Triggs is to be the Chancellor." - -"And what sort of gentleman may Triggs be, when he's at home?" - -[Illustration: "'YOU--YOUNG BLACKGUARD!'"] - -"Sir Tristram? Well!" The Duke was walking up and down the room. He -appeared to be reflecting. "He's rather a queer card, Triggs is. He's -been a bit of a wildish character in his time--and they do say that -his time's not long gone. He has a temper of his own--a nasty one." -Pausing, the Duke fixedly regarded Mr. Stanham. "I should say that -when Triggs learns what you have done, he will clap you into gaol, and -keep you there, at any rate until Miss Cullen ceases to be a ward of -the court." - -Mr. Stanham's countenance wore a look of dire consternation. - -"No! She's to be a ward until she's twenty-five, and she's not yet -twenty-two." - -"Then, in that case, I should say that, at the very least, you are in -for three good years of prison. My advice to you is----" - -The Duke's advice remained unuttered. Just at that moment the door was -opened. A servant ushered in a new-comer. - -"Sir Tristram Triggs." - -The Duke, striding forward, held out both his hands. - -"Sir Tristram!--And how long is it to be Sir Tristram?" - -The other shrugged his shoulders. - -"For a few hours, more or less, I suppose. I don't know much about -this kind of thing. I daresay I shall know more about it when I've -done." - -"When you've done? May that not be for many and many a year! Allow me -to introduce to you a friend of mine,--Mr. Thomas Stanham." - -Sir Tristram turned. For the first time, he appeared to notice Mr. -Stanham. - -Physically, the new, great man was short, and inclined to ponderosity. -The entire absence of hair upon his face served to accentuate its -peculiar characteristics. It was a square face,--and, in particular, -the jaw was square. His big eyes looked from under a penthouse formed -by his over-hanging brows. As one looked at him, one instinctively -felt that this was a man whom it would be safer to have as a friend -than an enemy. As he turned, a faint smile seemed to be struggling -into existence about the corners of his great mouth. But, directly -his glance alighted upon Mr. Stanham, that smile vanished into the -_ewigkeit_. He looked at him very much as a bull-terrier might look -at a rat. And he said, in a tone of voice which seemed fraught with -curious significance-- - -"I have had the pleasure of meeting this gentleman before." - -On his part, Mr. Stanham regarded Sir Tristram with a supercilious air -which, perhaps unconsciously to himself, was only too frequently seen -upon his face,--as if Sir Tristram were an inferior thing. - -"I'd no idea that your name was Triggs." - -The Duke, standing behind Sir Tristram, clenched his fists, and glared -at Mr. Stanham as if he would like to have knocked him down. - -It happened, shortly afterwards, that Miss Cullen left her bedroom to -come downstairs. As she went along the corridor she met a gentleman -who was being conducted by a servant, probably, to his own apartment. -The gentleman was Sir Tristram Triggs. When Sir Tristram saw Miss -Cullen, and Miss Cullen saw Sir Tristram, they both of them stopped -short. The great man's complexion was, normally, of a ruddy hue. At -sight of the lady he turned the colour of a beetroot, boiled. She -drew herself up to the full capacity of her inches. And she uttered a -single monosyllable. - -"You!" - -[Illustration: "'YOU!'"] - -That was all she said--then went sweeping on. - -"That horrid man!--He here!--To think of it!--If I'd only known that -he was coming, I do believe, in spite of Tommy, that I'd have stayed -away." - -At the foot of the stairs Miss Cullen encountered Mr. Stanham. That -gentleman had, as he was wont to have, his hands in his pockets. Also, -as he was not wont to have, he had a face as long as his arm. - -"I say, Frank, old man, isn't there somewhere where I can have a word -or two with you on the strict 'Q.T.'?" - -"Certainly--the library. There's never a soul in there." - -One would not like to libel Tuttenham so far as to say, with Miss -Cullen, that the only tenants the library ever had were the books. -But, on that occasion, it did chance that the pair had the whole place -to themselves. Mr. Stanham perched himself on a corner of the table, -still with his hands in his pockets. - -"There's going to be a pretty kettle of fish, dear boy." - -That was what the gentleman observed. - -"My dear child, what do you mean? What is the matter?" - -"The Lord Chancellor's here." - -"No!--How do you know?" - -"Datchet just introduced me to him." - -"Oh, Tommy, I say, what fun!" - -With a little laugh, the lady clapped her hands. She appeared to be -gifted with a keener eye for comedy than Mr. Stanham. - -"I don't know what you call fun. It happens that the new Lord -Chancellor is a man who, I have good reason to believe, would give a -tidy trifle for a chance of getting his knife into me." - -"Whatever for?" - -"I'll tell you the story. Last year, when I was at Canterstone for the -shooting, I was placed next to a man whom I had never seen in my life, -and whom I never wanted to see in my life again. What Charlie asked -him for, beats me. I believe, if he knew one end of a gun from the -other, it was as much as he did know. I doubt if there ever was his -ditto as a shot. I wiped his eye over and over again. I kept on doing -it. I couldn't help it--I had to. He never hit a bird. But he didn't -like it, any the more for that. We had something like a row before the -day was over. I fancy that I said something about a barber's clerk. -Anyhow, I know I walked off there and then." - -"You nice, agreeable child! It's my opinion that all you men are the -same when you are shooting--missing links. And, pray, what has this -pleasant little sidelight on the sweetness of your disposition got to -do with the new Lord Chancellor?" - -"Only this,--the new Lord Chancellor's the man I called a barber's -clerk." - -"Tommy! How horrible!" - -"It does seem pretty lively. You should have seen how he looked at -me when Datchet just now introduced us. Unless I am mistaken in the -gentleman, when this little affair of our's leaks out, and I'm brought -up in front of him, and he sees who I am, he'll straightway consign me -to the deepest dungeon, and keep me there, at any rate as long as he's -Lord Chancellor. It's only a cheerful little prophecy of mine. But you -mark my words, and see." - -"My poor, dear boy! Whatever shall we do?" - -"There's one thing I should like to do, and chance it;--I should like -to kick Sir Tristram Triggs!" - -"Kick who? Sir Tristram Triggs! Tommy! Why would you like to kick Sir -Tristram Triggs?" - -"That's the beggar's name." - -"The beggar's name? Can it be that Sir Tristram Triggs is the new -Lord Chancellor?" She threw out her arms, with a gesture of burlesque -melodrama. "Tommy! Kiss me! Quick. Before I faint!" - -[Illustration: "'KISS ME! BEFORE I FAINT!'"] - -"I never saw a chap like you for kissing." - -"That's a pretty thing to say! Although we may be married, sir, we -have not yet been upon our honeymoon." - -"I'll kiss you, if you like." - -"Thank you kindly, gentle sir!" She favoured him with a sweeping -curtsey. "Tommy, even you have no idea of the ramifications and -complications of our peculiar situation." Mr. Stanham had removed his -hands from his pockets. They occupied a more agreeable position round -the lady's waist. "See if I don't snatch you from the lion's jaws." - -"Does that mean that you will help me to escape from Holloway?" - -"It means that you will never get as far as Holloway?" - -"Am I to die upon the road then?" - -"Don't talk like that, don't! You don't know what a wife you've got! -You don't know how she loves you, worthless creature that you are! -Tommy, do say that you love me, just a little bit! There, you needn't -squeeze me quite so tight. I can't explain to you all about it. I will -some day! There's going to be a duel, perhaps to the death! between -the Lord Chancellor and yours to command; and if that august -personage, in the figure anyhow, of Sir Tristram Triggs, is not -worsted and overthrown, I will give you leave, sir, to say that you do -not admire my taste in dress.--Tommy, don't." - - -II. - -After dinner, Miss Cullen, strolling about the great glasshouse, all -alone, came upon Sir Tristram, also all alone. Although not, probably, -more than half an inch taller than the gentleman, she looked, yes, -down at him, as if, comparatively, he were but an insect at her feet. - -"Well, Sir Tristram, what amends do you propose to make to me?" - -"Miss Cullen?" - -"Sir?" - -She looked at him; and this famous lawyer who had been more than a -match for the _olla podrida_ of the law courts, and the champions of -the political ring, quailed before a young girl's eyes. - -"I fear, Miss Cullen, that I fail to apprehend your meaning." - -"Is it possible that you are an habitual desecrator of that law which -you have sworn to uphold, and that, therefore, the details of your -crimes are apt to escape your memory? More than three months have -elapsed since you committed your crime. So far as I know, you have -not sought as yet to take advantage of any occasion to offer me -atonement." - -Sir Tristram faced round to her with something of the bull-dog look -which had come upon his face when he had found himself in front of Mr. -Stanham. - -"May I inquire, Miss Cullen, why you go out of your way to use -language of such extravagant exaggeration? It would be gross -absurdity, amounting almost to prostitution of language, to call the -offence of which I was guilty, if it was an offence, a crime." - -"Perhaps it is because you are a lawyer that you are unaware that not -so very long ago a man was sentenced to six months' imprisonment for -exactly the same thing." - -[Illustration: "'THAT FOR THE CHANCELLOR!'"] - -Sir Tristram fidgeted. He seemed not to have complete control over his -tongue. - -"Miss Cullen, I trust that I may never be found lacking in respect -to a lady. If I have been so unfortunate as to have offended you, I -proffer you my most sincere apologies, and I humbly entreat for your -forgiveness." - -Miss Cullen remained, obviously, wholly unmoved. - -"When a criminal expresses his contrition, is he held, by so doing, to -have sufficiently purged himself of his offence?" - -"What is it that you require of me?" - -"I am told that you are to be the new Lord Chancellor. I am a ward in -chancery." - -"I learn the fact with the greatest pleasure." - -"Do you? Then your pleasure bears a strong resemblance to my pain. I -am to remain a ward till I am twenty-five." - -"Indeed?" - -Sir Tristram began to rub his hands. - -"Yes,--indeed! I had an objectionable uncle who was so foolish as to -suppose that I could not be a better judge of my own life's happiness -than--a number of elderly gentlemen." - -"Hem!" Sir Tristram coughed. - -"If I was willing to overlook your offence--" Sir Tristram smiled--"I -should require a _quid pro quo_." - -"And what, my dear Miss Cullen, would be the nature of the _quid pro -quo_?" - -[Illustration: "'WELL, OLD MAN, HAVE YOU HAD IT OUT WITH TRIGGS?'"] - -"I should want you to consent to my marrying." - -"To consent to your marrying?--Ah!--I see!--If the matter is laid -before me in due and proper form--it is possible that you have a -certain individual in your mind's eye whom you are willing to make the -happiest of men--and I was satisfied that he was a fit, and a proper, -person, and every care was taken to safeguard your interests--then, my -dear Miss Cullen, nothing would give me greater pleasure than to give -my consent to your being happily launched on what, I fear, is, too -often, the troubled sea of marriage." - -"That's not the sort of thing I want at all." - -"No? Then what is the sort of thing you want, may I inquire?" - -The young lady tapped her foot against the floor. For the first time, -she seemed to be not entirely at her ease. - -"The fact is, I'm married already." - -"Married--already?--With the consent of the court?" - -"Bother the court!" - -"Young lady!--Are you aware who it is to whom you are speaking?" - -"I am perfectly aware. I am speaking to the person who kissed me -against my will." - -"Miss Cullen!--I'm the Chancellor!" - -"That for the Chancellor!" - -She actually snapped her fingers in his face. He seemed to be -speechless; though, perhaps, he only seemed so. When he did speak, it -was as if he were suffering positive pain. - -"I find myself unable to believe that you are capable of realising -the position in which I stand, the position in which you stand, -too. Personal misusage I might endure. But, in this matter, I am -impersonal. Take care! I represent, in my poor person, the majesty of -English law." - -He turned as if to go. If he supposed that he had crushed her, he was -very much mistaken. - -"Is that your last word, Sir Tristram?" - -"Miss Cullen, it is my last." - -"Then, now, be so good as to listen to my last word. The Duke of -Datchet is a magistrate. I will go straight to him, and demand from -him a warrant for your arrest." - -"A warrant, for my arrest? Girl!" - -"I presume that it is because I am a girl, that you are enough of a -man, first to assault, and then to bully me." - -Taking out his handkerchief, Sir Tristram applied it to his brow. - -"Am I mad, or you? Are you utterly impervious to any sort of reason?" - -"Not more than you are. I have yet to learn that, because you are Lord -Chancellor, you cannot be made to answer for your crimes, exactly like -any other criminal. Forgive my husband, forgive me, whose only crime -has been that we love each other, and who have not offended in the -sight either of heaven or of earth, and I will forgive you, who have -offended in the sight of both. Decline to do so, and, unless there -is one law for the great and another for the small, in which case the -world shall hear of it, I promise that you shall learn, from personal -experience, what it means to go to gaol." - -Sir Tristram looked about him, as if he wondered why the earth did not -open to swallow her. He seemed to gasp for breath. - -"Miss Cullen, I beg that you will not suppose, that, under any -possible circumstances, I could listen, even for a single instant, to -what, to me, are your hideous insinuations. But one possible solution -I do see to the painful situation in which you stand. If the person -whom you have illicitly and improperly married--" - -"Not improperly married, how dare you!" - -[Illustration: "'HER BEHAVIOUR FILLED ME WITH PROFOUND AMAZEMENT.'"] - -"In the eyes of the court, Miss Cullen, certainly, in the eyes of -the court. Hear me out. If this person should prove to be a fit and a -proper person, of good character, of due position, and so forth, then, -taking all the circumstances into consideration, I might be moved to -leniency. What is the person's name?" - -"He is of the highest lineage." - -"So far, so good." - -"He is a gentleman of the noblest character." - -"Still better." - -"He would be showing honour to any lady in the land if he made of her -his wife." - -"Hem! Precisely! I asked you for his name." - -"Thomas Stanham." - -"Thomas Stanham!" Sir Tristram's countenance went as black as a -thundercloud. "Thomas Stanham!" He turned to her with a look of fury -on his face which took even Miss Cullen by surprise. "That vagabond!" - -"How dare you speak so of my husband, sir?" - -"Your husband? Girl, you are a fool! You, the owner of prospective -millions, have thrown them, even before they are in your actual -possession, into the lap of that pitiful adventurer. You ask me to -show him leniency? I will be lenient to you at least. I will protect -you from him, in spite of yourself." - -He spoke with a degree of dramatic intensity which threw a lurid light -upon the cause of his success in life. Miss Cullen was silenced after -all. She stood and watched him as he strode away, with a degree of -dignity in his bearing which seemed to have suddenly made him taller. - -"Tommy must have wiped his eye!" - -That was what she said to herself when she was alone. - -"Well, old man, have you had it out with Triggs?" - -Turning, Miss Cullen found that Mr. Stanham had approached from -behind. He stood in the doorway--as usual, with his hands in his -pockets. - -"Yes, young man, I've had it out with Triggs." - -Miss Cullen had a little flush on her cheeks, and an added light -in her eyes, which superfluities, it might be said, unjustifiably -heightened her attractions. - -"Softened his adamantine breast?" - -"Well, hardly. Not what you might call quite. In fact, I should say -that, if he remains in his present frame of mind, he will send you, -for a certainty, to something much worse than penal servitude for -life." - -"Is that so? Very kind of you, I'm sure. I knew you'd make a mess of -it, my love." - -"Wait till the play is over. There's always a muddle in the middle. -The third act has not begun." - - -III. - -"Triggs, this is the deuce of a nice state of things!" - -The latest ornament of the woolsack was seated in the privacy of his -own apartment prior to retiring to rest. But the cares of his position -had followed him there. He was working his way through a mass of -papers when his host appeared at the door. - -"To what state of things does Your Grace refer?" - -The Duke looked round as if to make sure that they had the room to -themselves. He seemed to be in a state of considerable agitation; -indeed, the abruptness of his entry had in itself suggested agitation. - -"Of--of course you know that I--I'm a magistrate." - -"Certainly I know it." - -Something in the other's tone seemed to have a soothing influence upon -the Duke, possibly because it roused the spirit of mischief that -was in him. He sat in an armchair. Crossing his arms upon his chest, -stretching out his long legs in front of him, he regarded the toes of -his evening shoes. - -"Triggs, I have had an application made to me for a warrant for your -arrest." - -The Chancellor went a peony hue, as we have seen him do before. - -"Your Grace is joking." - -"I wish I were. I found it anything but a joke, and I am afraid that -you are not likely to find it one either." - -Sir Tristram removed his glasses. He held them in his hand. His face -became hard and stern. - -"May I ask Your Grace to be more explicit?" - -The Duke turned. Placing one elbow upon the arm of his chair, he -looked at Sir Tristram as he leaned his chin upon his hand. - -"Triggs, Miss Cullen has applied to me to issue a warrant against you -for assault." - -"Surely such an application was irregular." - -"I am not so sure of that, I am not so sure. Anyhow, I told her that -it was. The only result of which, so far as I can judge, will be that -she will make the application, in more regular form, either to me, or -to someone else, to-morrow. But that is not the point. Triggs, did you -do it?" - -"Is it necessary that Your Grace should ask me?" - -"You didn't kiss her?" - -Sir Tristram took out his handkerchief. He actually gasped for breath. -It is to be feared that at that moment the representative of English -law almost told a lie. However, it was only almost; not quite. He -merely temporised. - -"The whole affair is a pure absurdity." - -"How do you mean? Is the charge unfounded?" - -Sir Tristram drew his handkerchief across his brow. - -"Supposing I did kiss her." - -"Supposing! Triggs? Good heavens! I remember your leading for a -woman who brought exactly such a charge against a man. I remember -how clearly you pointed out how, under certain circumstances, such -an action might be, and was, an offence against good morals. Didn't -Pickum give the man six months?" - -The lawyer's resemblance to a bull-dog became more and more -pronounced. He all but showed his teeth. - -"I don't know, Duke, if you are enjoying a little amusement at my -expense." - -The Duke sprang to his feet. His bearing evinced an accession of -dignity which, in its melodramatic suddenness, almost approached to -farce. - -[Illustration: "AN AMAZING RESEMBLANCE TO A SMILE."] - -"It is not my habit, Sir Tristram, to regard my magisterial duties as -offering much scope for amusement. Situated as I am--as you are--as -we all are--our party!--in the eyes of the nation, it seems to me that -this matter may easily become one of paramount importance. Of such -importance that I have come to you as a friend, to-night, to ask -you, if there is a chance of Miss Cullen's charge becoming so much as -whispered abroad, to seriously consider if it would not be advisable -for you to place your resignation in the hands of the Prime Minister -before your appointment to the Chancellorship is publicly announced." - -Sir Tristram's jaw dropped open. His resemblance to a bull-dog -perceptibly decreased. - -"Duke!" - -"I am not certain, in coming to-night, that I have not allowed my -friendship for you to carry me too far. Still, I have come." - -"Your Grace is more than sufficiently severe. If you will allow me to -exactly explain my position in this matter, I shall have no difficulty -in making that evident. I fear that Miss Cullen is a dangerous young -woman." - -The Duke shrugged his shoulders. - -"You, of all men, ought to know that, under certain circumstances, -women are dangerous--and even girls." - -"Precisely. That is so. But, I think that, after I have made my -explanation, you will allow that Miss Cullen is an even unusually -dangerous example of a dangerous sex." He paused--perhaps for -reflection. When he continued, it was with a hang-dog air. "Some short -time since I did myself the honour of asking Miss Cullen to become my -wife. I fear that--eh--circumstances induced me to take her answer too -much for granted. So much so, indeed, that--eh--while I was waiting -for her answer, I--eh--I--eh--kissed her. I do not wish to lay stress -upon the accident that the kiss was but the merest shadow of a kiss. -But such, in fact, it was." - -"In plain language, Triggs, you kissed her against her will." - -"I had no idea that it was against her will, or I should certainly not -have done it. Her behaviour after--eh--my action, filled me with the -most profound amazement. She jumped up. She addressed me in language -which I can only describe as more pointed than elegant. And--eh--she -walked away, leaving me, I do assure Your Grace, dumbfounded." - -"Well?" - -The Duke's back was turned to Sir Tristram, possibly because there was -something on His Grace's face which bore an amazing resemblance to a -smile. - -"Well, I heard nothing more of the matter. Indeed, I have heard and -seen nothing of the lady till I met her here to-day. This evening she -has alluded to the matter in a manner and in terms which filled -me with even more profound amazement than her behaviour on -the--eh--original occasion." - -"But, man, didn't you apologise?" - -"I apologised in terms of almost abject humility. But that did -not content her. I will be frank with Your Grace. She made me a -proposition which----" - -The Duke waved his hands. He cut Sir Tristram short. - -[Illustration: "SHE LOOKED CHARMING."] - -"I have heard too much already. Triggs, I have allowed my friendship -for you to play havoc with my discretion, let me hear no more. My -advice to you is compromise, compromise, at almost any cost. You don't -want to have your career ruined by a girl, and for the mere shadow of -a kiss. To consider nothing else, think of the laughter there would -be. As you say, the young woman can be dangerous, and, if nothing -happens to change her purpose, you may take my word for it that she -means to be." - -Before Sir Tristram could reply, the Duke was gone. The newly -appointed representative of the majesty of English law was left alone -with his papers and his reflections. These latter did not seem to -be pleasant ones. Words escaped his lips which we should not care to -print;--we fear they referred to that undutiful ward of his lordship's -court. Inwardly, and, for the matter of that, outwardly, he cursed her -with bell, book, and candle; certainly never was heard a more terrible -curse. And, so thoroughly did he enter into the spirit of the thing, -that he was still engaged in cursing her when the door opened, and in -front of him was Miss Cullen with the handle in her hand. - -She looked charming, and by that we mean even more charming than -usual. She had changed her dress for a _peignoir_, or a dressing-gown, -or something of the kind. Beyond question Sir Tristram had no notion -what the thing was called. It suited her to perfection--few men had a -better eye for that sort of thing in a woman than he had. There is no -fathoming feminine duplicity, but no one ever _looked_ more surprised -than did that young woman then. She had thrown the door wide open and -rushed into the room, and half closed it again behind her before she -appeared to recognise in whose presence and where she really was. - -"I--I thought--isn't this Mary Waller's room? Oh--h!" - -As struck with panic she turned as if to flee. But Sir Tristram, who -was gifted, before all else, with presence of mind, interposed. He -rose from his chair. - -"Miss Cullen, may I beg you for moment?" - -"Sir! Sir Tristram Triggs!" Miss Cullen's air of dignity was perfect, -and so bewitching. "I had something which I wished to say to Lady Mary -Waller. There has been some misunderstanding as to which was her room. -I must ask you to accept an apology." - -"Unlike you, Miss Cullen, I always accept an apology." - -"Indeed. Then my experience in that respect has, I presume, been the -exception which proves the rule." - -"May I ask when you apologised to me,--and for what?" - -"This evening--," the lady looked down; her voice dropped; thrusting -the toe of her little shoe from under the hem of her skirt, she tapped -it against the floor--"for becoming a wife." - -The grim man behind the table regarded her intently. Although he knew -that the minx was worsting him with his own weapons, she appealed -to, at any rate, one side of him so strongly, that he was unable to -prevent the corners of his mouth from wrinkling themselves into a -smile. - -"May I ask, Mrs. Stanham----" - -"Sir Tristram!" She threw out her arms towards him with a pretty -little gesture. "You have set my heart all beating! You have brought -the tears right to my eyes! You are the first person who has called me -by my married name." - -[Illustration: "'THEN I'LL KISS YOU.'"] - -He moved his hand with a little air of deprecation--as if the thing -were nothing. - -"May I ask, Mrs. Stanham, if Mr. Thomas Stanham is related to the Duke -of Datchet?" - -"Related?--Of course he is!--He's his favourite cousin." - -"His _favourite_ cousin?" We doubt if she was justified in her use of -the adjective, but, the simple truth is, she _was_ a dangerous young -woman. "I see. The plot unfolds. May I ask, further, if this little -comedy was rehearsed in advance?" - -"And in my turn, may I ask, Sir Tristram, what it is you mean?" - -They looked at each other, eye to eye. They understood each other -pretty well by the time Sir Tristram's glance dropped down again to -the papers on his table. His tone became, as it were, judicial. - -"Well, Mrs. Stanham, I have been considering the matter of which you -spoke to me this evening, and, having regard to the whole bearing of -the case, to the social position of Mr. Thomas Stanham, and so forth, -speaking, of course, _ex parte_, and without prejudice, I may say -that, as at present advised, if proper settlements are made, -the marriage might be one which would not meet with the active -disapprobation of the court." - -Sir Tristram raised his eyes. The lady shook her head--very decidedly. - -"That won't do." - -"Won't do?--What do you mean?" - -"What I say. I'm not going to have Tommy bothered about settlements. -I'm settlement enough for Tommy. What you have to do is to sit down -and to simply write this: 'My dear Mrs. Stanham,--Speaking as Lord -Chancellor, it gives me much pleasure in assuring you, as a ward of -the court, that your marriage with Mr. Thomas Stanham meets with my -entire and unreserved approval.--Yours faithfully, Tristram Triggs!'" -Sir Tristram glowered--he might! But she was undismayed. "You will -have to do it, sooner or later--you're a very clever man, and you know -you will!--so why not do it at once?" - -He did it at once. Actually! Possibly because the whole affair -appealed keenly to his sense of humour,--one never knows! She read the -paper, folded it, and then she said--with such a pout! and with such -malice in her eyes!-- - -"Now you may kiss me again; if you like." - -"I am obliged to you; but the costs in the suit have already been too -heavy." - -"Then I'll kiss you!" - -And she did--with some want of precision, just over the right eye. -Then she fled to the door. When she was half-way through it, she -turned, and waved towards him the hand which held the paper. - -"You are my guardian, you know." - -[Illustration: THE QUEEN'S BODYGUARD.] - - - - -SOME COSTLY PETS. - -[Illustration: 1. Mr. S. Woodiwiss's short-haired English tabby, -"Champion Zenophon" (worth £100). 2. The Hon. Mrs. McLaren Morrison's -Persian, "Ameer" (worth £100). 3. Mrs. C. Hill's short-haired blue, -"Patrick Blue" (worth £50). 4. Madame Portier's long-haired blue, -"Blue Boy" (worth £100). 5. Mrs. L. G. Leverson's Siamese, "Rynda" -(worth £30). 6. Miss G. Willoughby's chinchilla long-haired, "Zaida" -(worth £160). 7. Miss G. Willoughby's Siamese, "Fulmer Banjo" (worth -£50). 8. Mrs. Herring's "Champion Jemmy," English silver tabby (worth -£100). 9. Hon. Mrs. McLaren Morrison's long-haired black, "Satan" -(worth £100).] - -[Illustration: Music (BUGLE CALL SUMMONING THE COOKS TO GET THE MEN'S -GROG FOR THE DAY.)] - - - - -HOME LIFE ON BOARD A MAN-OF-WAR. - -DESCRIBED BY ONE WHO HAS LIVED THERE. - - -To the majority of Englishmen the phrase "Life on board a Man-of-War" -calls up pictures of smart gun-drill, tactical exercises, and other -more or less irksome though necessary duties. Few people indeed have -any cognizance of the way in which our bluejackets live their daily -life and how they manage to amuse themselves in the spare time at -their disposal during the three years afloat, which is the usual -period of a seagoing ship's commission. - -Jack is awakened at 5 a.m. in summer and 6 a.m. in winter by the -loud blare of a bugle under his hammock, and the hoarse voices of the -bosun's-mates shouting "Show a leg there. Arise and shine, 'rise and -shine. All ha- - - - - -nds lashupandstowhammocks." Having lashed his -bedding in his hammock in the regulation manner, by taking seven turns -round it with his hammock-lashing, he has his breakfast, for which -meal he is allowed half an hour. - -He then works and drills more or less continuously until noon, with -the exception of 15 minutes' "stand easy" at 8 a.m., when he is -allowed to smoke, and to go down to his mess and eat and drink if he -feels so inclined. - -At noon the ship's company is "piped to dinner." - -Noon is the dinner hour of our navy right throughout the world, and -though things have greatly changed since the introduction of steam and -the torpedo, the navy still retains the "bosun's pipes" of the days of -Nelson. No sooner is the shrill pipe sounded than there is an excited -rush of men to the cook's "galley," whence arises a cloud of odorous -steam redolent of baked meats, vegetables, and baked and boiled -"duffs" (so dear to the naval heart of all ages), which are to feed -the 600 or 700 odd hungry men just released from work. - -[Illustration: _Photo. R. Thiele & Co._ - -SERVING OUT JACK'S GROG (12.30).] - -Men going on watch at noon--as the Marine sentries, for example--are -allowed to fetch their dinner at "seven bells" (11.30), and sometimes -ludicrous mistakes will arise through this privilege. The men take -turns to prepare the dinner, and the cook of the mess for the day -usually fetches his mess-mates' dinner from the "galley." On one -occasion which the writer recalls, the cook was at work on deck -when the bell struck seven, and could not get away. Several of his -mess-mates (he was a Marine Artillery man) having to go on watch at -noon, proceeded to the "galley" in quest of their dinner, and "fisted" -(seized) a savoury dish they imagined to be theirs, without first -examining the brass mess-number on the side thereof. The dinner was -divided and eaten, and the plates were being washed up, when a group -of excited bluejackets, having questioned every other mess in the -ship, made their way to No. 19 mess and hungrily demanded their -dinner. - -[Illustration: _Photo. R. Thiele & Co._ - -TEETOTAL SAILORS RECEIVING CASH INSTEAD OF RUM.] - -The Marines had taken the wrong one, but offered their own in -exchange. Search at the "galley" failed to produce the missing meal, -which was eventually discovered stowed away beneath a wash-tub under -the Marines' mess-table, uncooked. The absent-minded cook for the day, -who was much taken up with a song of his own composition, entitled -"A Barrack-room Dinner," which he was to sing at a forthcoming -entertainment, had, in his contemplation of the visionary meal he was -to sing of, forgotten to take the actual dinner to the galley, and -there it lay in the mess in all its uncooked glory. - -After a somewhat heated discussion, the Marines appeased the -bluejackets by paying for a dinner of corned beef and pickles from the -canteen, and thought they had heard the last of the matter; but the -sailors had determined to pay the "Joeys" in their own coin, and did -so a few days later, when the ship's company, being at "collision -quarters," the Marines' messes were emptied of all their inmates. A -party of bluejackets was stationed with the diving apparatus on the -main-deck near the Marines' messes, and in the party were several who -had suffered the loss of their dinner. It was 4 p.m., and noticing a -large "plum-duff" on the table, evidently intended as a delicacy for -tea, they pounced on it to a man. When the Marines came down in hungry -expectation, behold! there was but an empty dish. - -Dinner time lasts an hour and a quarter, and at "one bell" (12.30) the -bugle-call for grog--"Nancy Dawson," as it is nick-named--summons the -cooks to the grog tub. - -The bugle-call, which is unknown even to army men, is given on the -previous page. - -Each man above the age of eighteen is allowed half a pint of grog, -usually mixed in the proportion of one part of rum to three of -water, and hence familiarly termed "three water"; and the number of -half-pints due to each mess is served out to the cook of that mess -for the day. The cooks stand _à queue_ in the numerical order of their -messes, the mess whose turn it is to pump the grog-water for that -day (the messes take daily turns at so doing, petty officers' mess -excepted) standing first "on tally," and the grog is served out by -a petty officer and the Marine sergeant of the guard, under the -supervision of a warrant officer and the ship's steward, who, book in -hand, checks off the number of pints allotted to each cook. - -The grog-tub is usually decorated with some loyal motto worked in -brass, a first favourite being "The Queen, God bless Her." - -A large proportion of men, thanks to the praiseworthy exertions of -that true friend of Naval mankind, Miss Agnes Weston, are teetotalers; -and these men, together with the boys under 18, are allowed money -instead of rum at the rate of one penny one day and three farthings -the next alternately. This is paid them once a quarter (monthly in -harbour ships) by the paymaster in exactly the same manner in which -the entire ship's company receive their ordinary pay. - -The dinner-hour, too, is a convenient time for the sale of dead or -"run" men's effects. - -When a man has absented himself without leave for seven days he is -officially posted a deserter, and any clothes, uniform, &c., he may -have left behind him are sold by auction to the highest bidder, the -proceeds going to the Government. - -[Illustration: _Photo. R. Thiele & Co._ - -AN AUCTION--SELLING A DESERTER'S CLOTHES.] - -Jack Tar, like a great number of his social superiors, does not -believe in giving a paternal Government any more than he can -conveniently help; and many a great bargain does he pick up at these -sales. For instance, a white duck tunic, such as the master-at-arms -is holding up for inspection in our illustration, and which costs -Jack 4s. to 5s., will start at 3d. and slowly mount up to 6d. or 8d., -beyond which sum the bidding seldom rises. - -At 1.15 p.m., dinner being over, on ordinary week days the bugle -sounds "Clean Guns," and work recommences; but on Sundays and -Thursdays (known to the bluejacket as "Spun-yarn Sunday") the ship's -company are granted an afternoon of rest. - -As soon as dinner time is over the bosun's mate pipes the sufficiently -obvious pipe "Hands make and mend clothes"; and, as Jack makes all -his own wearing apparel, he is not slow to take advantage of the time -allowed him. - -In fine weather the men bring their machines on deck and smoke and -sew together. Every conceivable kind of needlework does Jack execute -equally well. And not only the rank and file, but the petty officers -also are glad to make their own clothes rather than buy them ready -made; and though Jack is generally a self-taught tailor, he turns out -far smarter work than the slop-shops. The difference is very obvious -if one compares a bluejacket wearing uniform "built" by his own -deft fingers, with one who is wearing a suit bought at some "Naval -Outfitter's." - -The men have the forward part of the upper deck to themselves, the -petty officers having the space further aft set apart for them; -but this advantage is not without its little drawbacks. Witness an -incident experienced by the writer. - -He was seated by a ventilator playing chess--a favourite game--with -a comrade. The fleet was about to enter Vigo, and a heavy sea was -running, drenching the fo'c'sle and the other side of the deck, but -leaving the space where the players were seated dry as a bone. They -were just congratulating themselves on their comfortable quarters, -when the ship, suddenly altering course to make the entrance to the -bay, slewed round to port, and a heavy sea came neatly in and caught -them as they sat. Chessmen, board, and players went suddenly floating -about the deck in picturesque confusion, to the great amusement of the -onlookers, who were expecting some diversion. Going below to change -his clothes--for he was wet to the skin--the writer had the bad luck -to stand directly under the same ventilator, and no sooner had he -donned dry clothes than another malevolent and illfavoured sea came -carefully down the ventilator shaft and rendered him as wet again. He -tenderly avoided that ventilator during the remainder of the cruise. - -Thursday afternoon is the recognised time for the opening of the -mysterious and voracious "Scran-bag." - -On board a man-of-war tidiness is a matter of great importance, and -with a view to enforcing it an officer--on Sundays and Thursdays the -puissant captain himself--makes a tour of the entire ship at certain -hours. Woe betide the luckless man who has left out of its place the -smallest article! For when the decks are being cleared up for the -"Rounds" (as the inspection is termed), here a towel that has been -inadvertently left on a rack instead of being stowed away in its -appointed place, the kit-bag--here a book, or a coat, or a pound -of tobacco, stowed away out of sight behind a scuttle cover, and -discovered by the insinuative, far-reaching hand of the "Crusher," as -the ship's corporal is familiarly termed, a hand that has a pleasant -knack of exploring out-of-the-way nooks and corners--in short, any -article that is left about is confiscated, and placed within a huge -canvas bag, the "Scran-bag." - -Every Thursday it is opened, and there gathers around it an excited -knot of men who overhaul its contents thoroughly, a ship's corporal -standing by to see that no man claims "what isn't his'n." But before -the owner is allowed to take away his article he is mulcted in one -penny for each article, to be put in the poor-box, or else he has to -provide a piece of soap to be used in scrubbing decks. - -Nearly everyone has seen "Ship's tobacco" in some form or other, but -few know how the sailor prepares it for use. It is served out to him -monthly, at the same time as his soap, in packages of 1 lb., for which -he pays 1_s._ 1_d._, being allowed it duty free. It is a dark, rich -leaf, and the first thing done is to remove the stems. This done, some -water is sprinkled on the loose leaves (the old salt will prefer rum, -to add to its strength and flavour), and the whole is enclosed in -a piece of canvas and tightly bound with twine until it assumes a -cigar-like shape, pointed at each end. Next some fine line is taken, -one end secured to the tobacco and the other made fast to some strong -support. One or two men now sit astride the line, and the tobacco is -wound round and round, the weight of the men compressing it to about -half its original bulk. When entirely covered with line it is tightly -secured, and in two or three days is ready for use. - -At night the men's time may fairly be considered their own. On certain -evenings fresh water is served out for the washing of clothes, for -Jack is his own washerwoman as well as tailor. That the marine is no -less handy than his sailor brother may be gathered from the fact that -the ship's cobbler usually belongs to that immensely useful branch of -the service so aptly described by Kipling as "soldier and sailor too." - -[Illustration: _Photo. R. Thiele & Co._ - -JACK AS TAILOR--MAKING AND MENDING HIS CLOTHES.] - -A number of men who are handy with razor and scissors make a good -addition to their pay by attending to the tonsorial wants of their -less gifted brethren, and shave and cut hair in a heavy sea-way with -the ship rolling and pitching all over the place as easily as they do -in harbour with an immovable deck to stand on. - -[Illustration: _Photo. R. Thiele & Co._ - -A SKILFUL MACHINIST.] - -"All work and no play"--the proverb was made for Jack; and though the -bluejacket has to make his own amusement he does it as thoroughly as -he does all else he puts his hand to. Nearly every ship in the navy -has its nigger troupe or theatrical party, and some really clever -performances are given; the make-up and dress are good, and would be -no disgrace to a professional company. The fair sex, though absent, -are hardly conspicuous thereby; few uninitiated eyes would detect -in the female characters a middle-aged able-seaman or a cheeky young -ordinary. - -A more athletic relaxation is boxing, which is--as it should be--a -favourite amusement aboard. Many a good man has the Royal Marines or -the navy supplied to the professional ring. - -While the men are amusing themselves in various ways their superiors -are likewise killing time, and will often indulge in cricket on the -quarter-deck, which is screened with canvas to avoid losing the ball -overboard. The game can only be played at sea, for in harbour the -quarter-deck is required for more serious work. The ball is usually -a soft tennis-ball. The officers don flannels, and many an exciting -game, such as Ward-room _v._ Gun-room, is played, and continued at -every opportunity till the match is finished. - -Every officer aboard takes an interest in these matches, captain and -commander often coming on deck to encourage their juniors with their -august presence, and many a match won by the navy ashore has been due -to the practice aboard. For if a man can play cricket with a sloping -and mobile deck beneath him he can surely do better on a well-rolled -pitch. - -On Saturday nights, on such ships as carry one, the band discourses -sweet dance-music for the delectation of the men; and these -proverbially ardent lovers of Terpsichore are true to their goddess, -even though the wind is howling great guns, and the ship rolling and -pitching in such a way that none but true sons of Neptune could even -walk upright, to say nothing of dancing. - -When no band is carried, a miscellaneous collection of blue-jacket and -marine musical amateurs supply the deficiency; and their music, though -not perhaps up to the standard of Mr. Dan Godfrey, amply fulfils its -requirements. - -[Illustration: _Photo. R. Thiele & Co._ - -SAILORS CLAIMING THEIR ARTICLES ON THE OPENING OF THE "SCRAN-BAG."] - -When the ship is in harbour, leave is often allowed, and in connection -with shore-going there is an interesting formality not generally -known. It is one of the most heinous crimes in the naval decalogue -to attempt to smuggle any intoxicant aboard; and to obviate such -a possibility every man on returning from shore is searched by the -corporal of the gangway, a ship's corporal standing by, book in hand, -to enter the names of the offenders in the "black list," to be dealt -with next day by the commander. - -[Illustration: _Photo. R. Thiele & Co._ - -"JACK IS HIS OWN WASHERWOMAN."] - -The corporal of the gangway is usually an experienced Marine told off -for the duty, and under his hands it would be difficult for even the -most crafty smuggler to conceal any liquor about his person. - -But to the credit of our navy be it said that cases of smuggling are -extremely rare. - -As a general rule Jack Tar and Joe the Marine, though certainly -sometimes labouring under conditions trying to even the most -law-abiding civilian, conform to regulations and discipline with that -breezy cheerfulness and brave good-will which makes them, as they -always have been and it is to be hoped always will be, the idols of -their countrymen, the proud boast of their nation, and a standing -menace to her enemies. - -[Illustration: _Photo. R. Thiele & Co._ - -OFFICERS PLAYING CRICKET ON THE QUARTER DECK.] - - - - -CRICKET SKETCHES. - -_Two Pages by Mr. "Rip."_ - -[Illustration: MR. K. J. KEY--A STATELY PROCESSION OF ONE.] - -[Illustration: AN UNUSUAL EXPERIENCE FOR THE GREAT ARTHUR SHREWSBURY.] - -[Illustration: AN ELEGANT BAT--MR. F. G. J. FORD.] - -[Illustration: "RANJI" MAKES A BRILLIANT CATCH.] - -[Illustration: LITTLE "BOBBY" ABEL GETTING AWAY WITH AN AWKWARD ONE.] - -[Illustration: FIREWORKS! AN OVER BY MR. JESSOP.] - -[Illustration: PHILLIPS, THE INTERNATIONAL UMPIRE.] - -[Illustration: BIG TOM RICHARDSON--READY TO KNOCK UP A BRISK DOZEN OR -SO.] - - - - -HIS SOVEREIGN REMEDY. - -A COMEDY IN AN OMNIBUS. - -BY CLARENCE ROOK; ILLUSTRATED BY B. E. MINNS. - - -The gloom was gathering. Ten minutes ago the conductor had leaned from -his step, taken the lamp from some unseen hand, and stuck it up in -its place by the door. The bus lurched round the corner into Bishop's -Road. It was a Bayswater bus, and the old gentleman who was changing -his seat drove his elbow into my hat. - -[Illustration: "DROVE HIS ELBOW INTO MY HAT."] - -"Bless me! I'm always doing that. Most extraordinary! I'm sure I beg -your pardon." - -I told him that it was of little consequence, and another swing of -the bus seated him suddenly beside the tired-looking girl with a music -portfolio in her hand. She opened her eyes for a moment, and then -closed them again. The woman beyond shifted her baby to the other -arm--the arm furthest removed from the old gentleman--and continued to -rock it mechanically. - -The old gentleman evinced a restlessness which was not suggested -by his mild aspect and his white hair, though a closer examination -revealed a certain furtive look in his eyes. Four separate times he -had shifted his seat since I had taken my place in the corner next -the door at Oxford Circus. A slight irritation at his want of repose -caused me to shoot a protesting glance at him over the top of -my evening paper, for few things annoy me so much as purposeless -activity. Old gentlemen should be glad enough to sit still when they -have the chance. But I could not find it in my heart to be angry with -such a benevolent-looking old gentleman. - -It was just then, as my eyes were returning to my paper, that the -demon of suspicion took tentative hold upon my mind. "Why," I asked -myself, "do nice-looking old gentlemen, with white hair and shifting -eyes, want to change their place in a bus?" - -The suspicion came--and went, for the kindly and venerable face gave -no hold for doubt. But I laid down my paper upon my knees and leant -back in the corner to watch him, speculating whether he would change -his place again before we came to Westbourne Grove. The driver's -whip-lash sounded on the middle pane opposite to me, and the bus -slowed down to take up a passenger who, after a glance inside, mounted -to the roof. - -The conductor shoved his parcel up after him, pulled the string and -resumed his position against the side of the door, where, upon that -mysterious block which is kept in a receptacle over the entrance, -he was apparently making sketches of the passengers inside. Mentally -commending his diligence, I turned my eyes again to the old gentleman, -who met my glance for a moment, and seemed to deprecate my displeasure -by the lifting of his brows and a turn of his head. - -As the bus quickened up again, the tired-looking girl swayed slightly, -and her head sank upon the shoulder of the old gentleman. The old -gentleman glanced sideways at the closed eyes of his neighbour, and, -as a kindly smile stole over his face, his arm slid round the girl's -waist. The pair made quite a pretty picture. The conductor at my elbow -turned slightly, to get a better light upon his sketching block. - -And then I noticed a curious disturbance--only a momentary rise and -fall--in the dress of the sleeping girl. No one, so far as I could -tell, had moved. The girl's hands were lying in her lap, precariously -clasping her music portfolio. The disturbance occurred on the right -side of the dress, which was the side furthest from the old gentleman -in whose kindly embrace the girl lay. - -The explanation came to me in a flash. In so sudden a flash that I -turned in the same instant to the conductor and found his sidelong -glance meeting mine. - -"See that?" he muttered, under the clatter of the bus. - -"I should think I did," I said, "he's picked her pocket." - -"I've 'ad a eye on the old josser for the last month," he said. "I'll -make it a fair cop this time. You're my witness." - -"Well," I said, "I'm not awfully keen on being mixed up----" - -"Bit of high-spyin' now," he said. "What's the matter with a little -bit o' high-spyin', eh?" - -[Illustration: "THE TIRED-LOOKING GIRL SWAYED SLIGHTLY."] - -The conductor mounted the steps to the roof. The tired girl, awakened -suddenly to her position, straightened herself and peered anxiously -through the window of the bus as though to make certain that she -had not been carried to Wormwood Scrubs in her sleep. Reassured, she -gathered up her portfolio in a firmer grasp with one hand, and with -the other searched the back of her head for errant pins. - -Round the edge of my paper I watched the old gentleman, whose eyes -were now fixed obliquely upon the woman on his left. I distinctly saw -his eyes travel down from the woman's face to her black cloth jacket, -and stop at the outside pocket, from which her omnibus ticket was -peeping. The pocket was on a level with, and almost touching his -elbow, and his hand, his left hand, which was resting upon his knee, -began slowly to travel towards the pocket of the tired-looking woman. - -The baby was kicking, grasping at the stuffy air with crinkled -fingers, and threatened to give voice, and the tired-looking woman, -rocking more anxiously than before, looked timidly from one neighbour -to another as though in apology for the wrath to come. - -At that moment my glance was attracted to a point above the old -gentleman's head, where I met the eyes of the conductor, pressed close -against the window-pane. A little higher was the tip of his nose, -whitened by the pressure, and above that his stubby red moustache, -underneath which a mouth gaped with inquiry. For a moment or two I -was fascinated by the inverted face, which seemed to belong to some -other-world creature which had tumbled from extra-mundane space and -stuck fast upon the window of the Bayswater bus. - -The benevolent old gentleman, quite unconscious of the watchful eyes -behind his head, was regarding with a bland smile the advertisements -on the window behind me. And as my eyes fell again on the spot where I -had last seen his hand, I saw that it was not there. There never was a -more unskilful performance. For there sat the old gentleman before my -eyes, looking calmly over my head, with two fingers inserted into the -pocket of the woman who was rocking the baby. As though it knew the -wrong that was being done, the baby gave vent to the threatened yell, -and the mother, patting it, and rocking it, and speaking to it in -unknown tongues, saw nothing and felt nothing else. - -[Illustration: "APPARENTLY MAKING SKETCHES OF THE PASSENGERS."] - -Suddenly, as I watched, the benevolent old gentleman dropped his eyes -from the advertisements, and mine arrested them as they fell. Never -was an old gentleman so vastly perturbed. I almost felt sorry for him; -for an aged criminal who has not learned the art of escaping detection -and is therefore hopelessly incompetent, is a pathetic sight. - -The omnibus stopped with a jerk just as we came within the range -of the lamps at the corner, and the old gentleman, so evil were his -deeds, seemed to shrink from the light. I was not quite certain of the -etiquette with pickpockets. Ought I to leap upon him then and there -and to denounce him? That would be melodramatic, I reflected; and I -hate a scene; so I only raised myself from my seat, borrowed support -from the handrail above my head, and waited upon events. - -[Illustration: "TOWARDS THE POCKET OF THE TIRED-LOOKING WOMAN."] - -The tired girl bestirred herself and looked round, the woman with the -baby changed her burden again from one arm to the other and peered -anxiously at the door. - -"Royal Oak," I said, answering her look of inquiry. - -She sank back in her seat and closed her eyes, and at the same moment -the old gentleman jumped up and shambled towards the door, while the -other passengers carefully drew in their toes. - -By this time I noticed that the conductor's face had detached -itself from the window. Three people had risen to leave; but the old -gentleman was first, being clearly in a hurry; and as he found himself -unable to pass me, half-standing and half-sitting, with my hand on -the overhead rail, he looked pleadingly at me, as though imploring my -silence. I hesitated a moment. It was none of my business to arrest -criminals. But I did not mind giving a passive support to the cause -of justice, so I stayed where I was. And then the conductor appeared, -blocking the doorway. - -"No, yer don't," he said. - -"My good man," began the old gentleman, "I sincerely trust I have -given no offence. I only----" - -"I see yer," said the conductor, looking over his shoulder towards the -public-house, and jerking his head. - -"Then kindly oblige me," said the old gentleman, "by not making a -fuss. If a sovereign now----" - -"Oh, stow it," said the conductor. "You've done it once too often, -that's what you 'ave. I see yer right enough this time, and you're -going to be give in chawge, that's what you are. Strite." - -The old gentleman looked helplessly round him. Impatient passengers -began to remonstrate from the step; others from the kerb. - -"'Old on," said the conductor, "we're all goin' 'ome to tea." - -A policeman crossed from the opposite corner. - -"'Igher up there!" he remarked, dispassionately. - -"Look 'ere, constable," said the conductor, "'ere's a job in your -line." Then his tone became official. "I 'ereby give this man in -chawge for picking pockets." - -"Oh," said the policeman, scattering the bunch of people gathered -round the step. - -[Illustration: "AS I WATCHED."] - -"I see him--and this gentleman 'ere see him," said the conductor. -"'Tain't the first time, neither. Old 'and, he is; that's what _he_ -is." - -The doorway was now blocked by the policeman's form. - -"That ain't good enough for me," he said. "Any of you ladies and -gentlemen lost anything?" - -"I see 'is 'and in that lydy's pocket," said the conductor, pointing -over the constable's shoulder at the woman with the baby. "You feel in -your pocket, lydy." - -[Illustration: "'I GIVE THIS MAN IN CHARGE FOR PICKING POCKETS.'"] - -Then ensued a general searching of pockets, while a rival omnibus -swept by triumphantly and gathered up such passengers as were too -impatient to await the outcome of the situation. - -I leaned forward and said in an undertone to the girl with the -portfolio, who alone of the passengers shewed no interest in the -contents of her pocket, "You had better look in your pocket, I feel -convinced it was picked while you were asleep upon his shoulder." - -"I wasn't," she said, abruptly. Then, reflecting apparently that she -was rude as well as tired, she added, "I've nothing worth stealing, -thank you all the same." - -In a desultory way she began fumbling in the pocket of her dress. The -old gentleman stood by the policeman. His face had grown very red; his -eyes, wandering from one passenger to another, became suddenly fixed, -and his face was redder than ever. It was sufficiently obvious that he -was very uneasy. Following the direction of his eyes, I saw the baby's -head hanging at an alarming angle over the woman's arm. The mother -was leaning towards the light and looking at the contents of her free -hand--a bus ticket, two pennies, a farthing, and a sovereign. - -"Now, then! lost anything, mem?" asked the conductor. - -"No, _I_ ain't lost nothing," she began, slowly. - -The old gentleman nodded to her pleasantly. - -"Though," she continued, "I don't rightly understand why----" - -"I think this must belong to you, sir," said the girl with the -portfolio, suddenly, holding out a sovereign to the old gentleman. - -"Not at all, my dear; nothing to do with me, nothing whatever," he -said, nodding his head at her. "Old enough to be your grandfather, -too!" - -"Now then, what's all that?" asked the policeman. - -"Only this gentleman must have been putting a sovereign into my -pocket, and I insist--oh! I insist----" - -"Look here, constable," said the old gentleman, "can't you see that -you are embarrassing the young lady? Any little transaction between -her and me is none of your business, or anyone else's either." - -The old gentleman stamped impotently upon the floor of the omnibus. - -"He's been giving money away," said the policeman over his shoulder to -the conductor, "looks like." - -"And why not, why not?" said the old gentleman. "What's the good of -having money if you can't make people happy with it?" - -The constable looked reflectively at him. - -"I dunno," he said. "I'd better take your name and address." - -The old gentleman looked apprehensively round. Then he took a card -from his pocket and gave it to the policeman. - -"Please don't read it out," he said. - -The policeman looked at the card, put it into his pocket-book, and -made a note in pencil. Then he swung himself off the omnibus and -looked hard at the old gentleman as he descended slowly. - -"You go home," he said. "You want to be took care of, you do." - -[Illustration: "'YOU GO HOME,' HE SAID."] - -The conductor stood upon the kerb with his hand on the rail, looking -after the old gentleman as he trudged off towards Royal Oak Station. - -"'Urry up there," said the constable. "Wastin' my time," he added, as -he turned his back. - -The conductor rang the bell and leaned dolefully against the stairway -as the bus started away from the dispersing crowd. - -The girl with the portfolio was regarding her sovereign thoughtfully, -holding it between her thumb and forefinger; then she returned it with -her handkerchief to her pocket, looked doubtfully round and blushed -slightly. - -The woman with the baby was biting something, which, as she caught my -eye, she hurriedly slipped into her jacket pocket. "Not that I'd be -be'olden to anybody," she remarked at large, rocking her baby with -much energy, "me 'usband earning good money, thanks be. But peliteness -is peliteness----" - -"You _may_ think yer know yer way abart," said the conductor, looking -at me and jerking his head up and down, "but now and then you find -you're left--badly left. Now, think o' that! Droppin' sovereigns all -over the place. Well, I wish I'd a'knowed!" - -[Illustration: _Photo by Landor, Ealing_ - -THE HEAVENLY TWINS.] - - - - -[Illustration] - -LITTLE DARLINGS. - -HALF A MILLION PHOTOGRAPHS OF CHILDREN. - -_Words by Somers J. Summers. Photographic Illustrations by W. J. -Byrne._ - - -[Illustration: SUNSHINE.] - -Locked away in the breast of Mr. W. J. Byrne, the children's -photographer, is a secret which, when she has read this article, every -mother of children will want to know. Let it be said at once, however, -that her curiosity will have to go unsatisfied; Mr. Byrne has his -secret, and wild interviewers cannot drag it from him. - -Ability to pose adults gracefully and naturally before the camera is -an accomplishment admittedly rare; in the case of children, with the -difficulties increased tenfold, it must be a gift. It is one thing to -dump a subject into a chair and obtain a likeness, another to make a -picture as well. And when a man has taken half a million photographs -of little sitters, in as many poses, he may be held to be something -of an authority on the subject. That is Mr. Byrne's record; he is to -children what Rosa Bonheur is to animals, save that he uses neither -pencils nor brush; he is a veritable artist with the camera. Some of -the examples of his skill here seen represent, it is not difficult to -realise, an infinity of painstaking and experimenting, while others -tell of patient waiting, followed by considerable alacrity at the -moment of a fleeting expression which he desired to preserve. Mr. -Byrne's method is very simple; one half of his secret is soon told. - -[Illustration: SHADOW.] - -"Photographing children," he says, "is charming work, but it can never -be successful so long as the customary relations between them and the -photographer exist. They usually enter a studio with much the same -sort of feelings as they do a dentist's. They should be made to feel -at home before the business side of their visit is reached. Instead of -being at once placed in the 'operating' chair, they should be allowed -to wander about, if old enough, at their own sweet wills and in -any case become accustomed to their strange surroundings. Wild -gesticulations, promises of chocolates, stories of 'the little bird,' -and orders to 'keep like that,' only serve to produce expressions -of wonder and fear. Personally I let the child amuse itself with new -toys, and either pretend to take no notice, or else join in the game. -This may go on for half an hour. Meanwhile, an attendant is quietly -focussing an almost concealed camera, and when the child begins to -prattle, I wait for an unconscious and happy expression, then snap -goes the shutter, and the thing is done. - -[Illustration: "WHO IS THAT LITTLE FELLOW?"] - -[Illustration: "I DON'T LIKE HIM!"] - -"Every child's face is beautiful to at least one pair of eyes. The -features may not be symmetrical, the eyes may be small and dull, but -the charm of childhood does not lie entirely in facial beauty. It is -the coy smile and the quaint expression that a parent prizes most. And -it is these characteristics that a photographer should aim to catch. -Mothers often make the mistake of rehearsing the sitting at home. It -is even better not to mention the matter in the presence of the little -one; it is usually much more satisfactory if the visit is a surprise -one as far as the child is concerned. It is also unwise to dress the -young sitter in unaccustomed clothes or to warn it to be good. For -general work, my rule about posing children is, 'Never pose them at -all.'" - -[Illustration] - -Mr. Byrne's studios are veritable toy-shops, containing everything -from a jumping frog to a model of an Atlantic liner. Indeed, Mr. Byrne -has given a big firm of toy-dealers a standing order to send anything -new that comes in the market. Antiquarians will learn with a pang -that the dear old Noah's Ark is going the way of all flesh. British -children will have none of it. They refuse to look pleasant for less -than a little bicycle with rubber tyres, or a miniature motor-car with -real boilers--at least when they go to be photographed. - -So much, then, for how Mr. Byrne's "happy" results are produced; what -about his "unhappy" ones? Both are well represented here. Take the -first pictures, Sunshine and Shadow. What caused the inquisitive -little fellow in the first to find the world all dark and so little of -interest in life a few seconds later? - -It must have been something wholly unexpected, for it effected much -the same change in his companion's countenance. Was it a pin-point -gently insinuated between the shoulder blades, or a cold sponge -dexterously applied to the little spine? - -[Illustration: "QUEEN OF HEARTS."] - -That is what mothers would like to know. Mr. Byrne says, with a -smile, that it was neither--that the expression was a purely natural -development. But will the mothers of England believe him? - -[Illustration: UNHAPPY LITTLE PEOPLE.] - -There is, too, the case of the little boy gazing so intently into a -hand-glass; what did he find hidden in its depths to make him suddenly -cast it aside, and turn to where the photographer is presumably -standing, with such a look of mingled disappointment and disgust? His -discovery was evidently remarkable, for, as will be seen, it had the -additional effect of taking his fore-lock out of curl. Again Mr. Byrne -is appealed to, and again he smiles and vouchsafes the same reply. And -again the mothers of England will have their suspicions. - -[Illustration: "RATHER SLOW, THIS!"] - -In photography, as in many another profession, the path of those who -would forsake the beaten track does not lie through acacia groves. -Many obstacles strew the way. For instance, Mr. Byrne conceived the -notion of posing children in a big boot, such as appears in two of the -accompanying reproductions. It is a simple-looking boot, yet it took -two years to make; that is to say, the day the order was given, and -the day it was satisfactorily carried out, were separated by a span -of such duration. But much happened in between. First of all Mr. Byrne -made a rough design of what he wanted, giving the dimensions, etc., -and sent it, through a friend, to a local bootmaker. Perhaps, not -anxious to have his idea noised throughout camera-land, Mr. Byrne's -instructions were not as explicit as they might be; it was the time -of the dynamitard outrages, and the worthy artist in leather grew -suspicious. What might his customer want with such a boot? it was most -unusual; he had never heard of a man with such a large foot; and why -only _one_ boot? He didn't like such peculiar orders, but he would do -what he could in the matter; of course it would cost a goodish sum. As -to whether the poor man had nightly visions of the strange boot being -filled with infernal machines and placed under the House of Commons, -and himself charged by the State with aiding and abetting the plot, no -reliable information is forthcoming, but certainly, after two months -had elapsed, he sent word to say that he found the work more difficult -than he had anticipated, and that unless the one-legged individual, -for whom the boot was apparently intended, could call and be measured -in the ordinary way, he must regretfully throw up the job. A carpenter -was next tried, but with little more success. The boot actually did -come home, after a time, but it was large enough for six children to -lose themselves in, instead of comfortably accommodating one. At this -stage it occurred to Mr. Byrne that one of the Drury Lane "property" -men, used to tailoring for pantomime giants and other unusual -creatures, would be able to make a boot a little bit out of the common -without being too inquisitive as to its mission in life. So it finally -arrived, a beautiful creation, fit for any Brobdingnagian dandy, and -redolent of Day and Martin. But Mr. Byrne wanted a dilapidated boot; -to save further trouble, however, he proceeded, with the aid of a -pocket knife and an old hatchet, to dilapidate it himself. - -[Illustration: "WHAT DOES ALL THIS MEAN?"] - -It was much the same with the egg appearing herewith. It was tried in -canvas, wood, and papier-maché before the more serviceable aluminium -produced a "lay" that any pantomime bird might be proud of. Both the -boot and the egg have done yeoman service since. They have assisted in -producing something approaching a thousand photograph-pictures. - -When Mr. Byrne had shown that the novel could be blended with the -artistic in child photography, would-be imitators were not slow to -appreciate the innovation. Photographers wrote from all parts of the -country to inquire where Mr. Byrne obtained his "properties"; they -would like to add duplicates to their own studios. Guileless Mr. Byrne -replied in each case--"From America." - -It would be as difficult for Mr. Byrne to say how he came to make a -spécialité of child photography as it would to explain what led him to -take to the camera at all. He practically drifted into both. - -[Illustration: LITTLE MISS PENSIVE.] - -"My life," he says, "might almost be described as one long drift. -Although I was born in Ireland, I entered the Italian army, for some -reason no one, not even myself, has ever been able to explain, when -I was fifteen years of age. I fought in the Austro-Franco-Italian -campaign of 1859, being one of the only two Britishers engaged in the -war. The other was the late Colonel Peard. Like him, I was present -at the great battles of Magenta and Solferino, and like him I several -times came near ending my career on the plains of Lombardy. - -"When the war was over, and there seemed no prospect of another, -I drifted away from the colours, back to London, and into the more -peaceful occupation of portrait making. Photography was in its infancy -in those days; and I can only presume that I took kindly to it because -I had always been something of an artist, which was of considerable -advantage to me in my new profession. After a while I discovered -that I secured happier results with children than was usual, probably -because, being naturally fond of them, I devoted more care and -attention to them than was customary, for child sitters were rare -then, and photographers were apt to regard them as rather bad -bargains, notwithstanding the higher fees charged." - -[Illustration: LITTLE DAMES IN FANCY FRAMES.] - -It is not surprising to learn that Mr. Byrne has "snapped" nearly all -the little English royalties; his studios being located at Richmond in -Surrey, he has frequently been summoned to the White Lodge and Windsor -Castle, not to mention more distant royal seats. Regarding juvenile -princes and princesses, Mr. Byrne has something interesting to say. - -[Illustration] - -"Royal children have charming and simple ways, and it is usually -an easy matter to establish friendly relations with them. That once -accomplished, photographing always becomes a pleasure. They are just -as fond of new toys as other children, just as eager for a romp, -frequently more so. Indeed, I have more than once had to 'play -soldiers' with some of the Queen's grandchildren while waiting for -them to reach a sitting-still mood." - -[Illustration] - -Perhaps much of Mr. Byrne's success is due to the fact that -photography is not merely his profession; it is his hobby as well. -He is constantly devising new and novel poses, both for his private -sitters and the child-models he employs. When a mother calls at the -studio with her bairn, she is shown numerous bulky volumes, veritable -picture galleries of children in almost every conceivable attitude, -and invited to choose which she would prefer for her own little one's -portrait. Bewildered by such a display, she usually elects to leave -the choice to the photographer, and she is invariably wise; for the -pose that shows to perfection the characteristic beauty of one child -may be quite unsuitable for another. A trained eye notices these -things as quickly as a practised artist can tell whether a certain bit -of scenery is "paintable" or not. One of Mr. Byrne's child-models must -be the most photographed little person in the country, for she has -figured in no fewer than two thousand studies. To show the variety of -these, a page herewith is devoted to a composite reproduction of the -little model in some of her happiest poses. The sweet child, it might -be mentioned, is the daughter of Mr. Byrne's laundress. - -[Illustration: A CHILD MODEL--SOME OF HER HAPPIEST POSES.] - -Mr. Byrne has three "Don'ts" for mothers who would secure speaking -likenesses of their little ones. Don't let the little one know -beforehand that it is going to a studio. Don't dress it in any costume -to which it is unaccustomed. Don't endeavour to arrange its hair; this -will look better if allowed to fall naturally. - -[Illustration: SOMEBODY'S NEST-EGG.] - -It must not be supposed, however, that the subject of this article is -a photographer of children only. Between them, eighty-nine exhibitions -in various parts of the world have awarded him something like a -quarter of a hundredweight of medals for exhibits of all kinds, while -he has also photographed nearly every adult member of our royal family -and innumerable celebrities. In this branch of his work, however, Mr. -Byrne has to content himself with the artistic, and leave the novel -severely alone. For the Prince of Wales, considerate sitter though he -is, would hardly consent to have himself "caught" in an old boot, or -Sir Ellis Ashmead Bartlett, though he does much to amuse his fellow -members of Parliament, permit himself to be represented emerging from -an aluminium egg. So the "properties" have to be laid aside at times. - -[Illustration: BUILT FOR ONE.] - -"The Queen," says Mr. Byrne, "is one of the best sitters in the -world, very rarely moving or spoiling a plate. That abomination of all -studios, the head rest, is quite unnecessary in Her Majesty's case. -The Prince of Wales takes quite a keen interest in photography -himself, and when sitting will go to considerable personal trouble in -order that the results may be successful. The Prince will get together -a royal group where anyone else would fail. The German Emperor is a -most genial sitter; but his pose before the camera is apt to be rather -stiff, and his expression somewhat stern. Nearly every royal sitter, -in fact, has some peculiarity which one finds it one's task to -moderate without destroying altogether." - -[Illustration: "I DON'T LIKE PHOTOGRAPHERS!"] - -But we are no nearer Mr. Byrne's secret. How were the "unhappy" -pictures obtained? Stories are told of fond mothers, waiting -in anterooms, being horrified to suddenly hear piercing shrieks -proceeding from the studio. Breathlessly they have dashed in, to find -Mr. Byrne all smiles, baby all tears. When the proofs came home, the -picture showing baby crying was generally voted wonderfully lifelike, -even if it was not selected for general distribution. - -These strange rumours are referred to, and once again Mr. Byrne is -appealed to to withdraw the veil; but yet again he smiles and replies -as before. Which reply, it is to be feared, the mothers of England -will accept with the customary condiment. - -[Illustration: POISON - - POISONED RING. - POISONED GLOVES. - POISONED SWORD. - POISONED HOCKEY STICK. - POISONED SHIRT. - POISONED DAGGER. - POISONED BOOTS. - POISONED BOWL. -] - -[Illustration: Decorative frame] - - - - -DEVICES CONCEIVED BY THE GRIM AND GHASTLY INGENUITY OF OUR -FOREFATHERS. - - -The ingenuity of man in devising schemes to perpetuate life has almost -been equalled by his ingenuity in framing devices to abridge it. In -all ages there have been men who hated convention, even conventional -murder. When they desired to remove an enemy secretly, they had -recourse to poison; but not to ordinary schemes of poisoning. They -made it an art. - -An interesting device, very palpably suggested by the famous shirt -of Nessus, is that given on the opposite page. The shirt was charged -within with poison of great acerbity, which so acted upon the skin of -its wearer as to inflame and then blister with incredible malignity, -until the victim died in horrible agonies. - -Various hypotheses have been put forward with respect to the history -of the shirt we illustrate, which is now in an American museum; but -there seems every reason to believe that it is the garment mentioned -in a German work of the 15th century by Adolph Beckert, as having been -exhumed with the body of a Greek military captain, with an inscription -to the effect that, having been guilty of gross insubordination, -amounting to treason, he was ordered to denude himself of his garments -in the presence of the soldiers, and don the fatal tunic. - -Of equal, if not greater antiquity, was the device in vogue among the -Tartar princes. - -When a prince desired to dispatch an inconvenient subject, he was -invited to a game of hockey, participated in by the various nobles, -officers and officials of the Court. The Royal Chamberlain always -took good care that the technical miscreant should play with a special -stick, within whose jewelled hilt lurked the deadly poison. But even -the drug would have been scarcely sufficient to destroy life if there -had not been also concealed in the handle a number of microscopic -needle points which, tiny as they were, and almost unobserved at the -first handling, were quite sufficient after a few minutes' play to -puncture the skin. - -In this connection we may advert to the vast number of swords and -daggers extant whose tips were impregnated with poison; these are to -be found in many museums in Europe. There are not a few even in our -own Scotland Yard. Although legitimately poison devices, they betray -little ingenuity. - -The pair of gauntlets shown on the opposite page are said to have been -the property of a great foreign political notability. Once well on -the hands of the victim, a species of gum, with which the interior -was lined, adhered with such tenacity to the flesh that it was next to -impossible to remove the gloves, except by cutting them away; and -even then the gum remained impervious to water, or of solution, until -inflammation was succeeded by festering, and unless amputation of the -whole arm followed, death inevitably ensued. - -Several deaths from the wearing of poisoned boots have been recorded, -notably that of Andre Nolofski, courier to the Russian Empress -Catherine the Great, who was discovered some nine miles from Moscow, -lying prone dead on the side of the road, with apparently not a mark -of disfigurement, until someone removed his boots. Then a surgeon -discovered that tiny poisoned needles had pierced his feet. - -Poison rings were not unknown to the Romans. A hollow duct was -contained in half the ring, from which poison was supplied to a needle -of infinitesimal size at the opposite side. The other half of the -circle enclosed a very delicate mechanism for operating the needle. -When, with a slight pressure, the hand of the enemy was clasped with -apparent cordiality and good-fellowship, it gently punctured the skin -without exciting suspicion. - -Another device we illustrate was in very common use amongst the -Chinese up to a century ago. It consisted of a bowl heavily coated -with a colourless soluble poison on the inside. Upon any hot liquid, -such as tea, being poured into this cup, the poison became dissolved. -As a whole service of this ware might come into the possession of one -family without suspicion, it is not difficult to credit the fact that -in spite of every precaution about food, seven or eight persons were -often exterminated by this process. - - - - -OUR MONTHLY GALLERY OF BEAUTIFUL AND INTERESTING PAINTINGS. - - -[Illustration: -_By permission of the Berlin Photographic Co., London, W._ - -A FLOWER OF SPAIN.] - -[Illustration: -_By permission of the Berlin Photographic Co., London, W._ - -"HUSH."] - -[Illustration - _By permission of the Berlin Photographic Co., London, W._ - -THE FAVOURITE.] - -[Illustration: -_By permission of the Berlin Photographic Co., London, W._ - -MEDITATION.] - -[Illustration: -_By permission of the Berlin Photographic Co., London, W._ - -GOOD-NIGHT!] - - * * * * * - - - - -Transcriber's Note - - -Page 14: 'busses' corrected to 'buses', though 'busses' may have been -in use in 1898, or may have been confused with fishing boats (herring -busses). - -"... he even saw cabs and buses with different eyes." - -Page 40: 'our's' corrected to 'ours' (though 'our's' may have been in -use in 1898). - -"From the American aspect, ours is dull,..." - -Page 56: 'Meterological' corrected to 'Meteorological' - -"the Meteorological Office, a Government department...." - -Page 78: 'ofence' corrected to 'offence'. - -"... to have sufficiently purged himself of his offence?" - -Pages 93-97: 'bluejacket' (noun) appears a number of times; -blue-jacket (adjective) appears once. - -'workwoman' and 'work-woman' also both appear, in different stories. - -Numerous occurences of words which are sometimes joined by a hyphen, -and sometimes separate, also appear (e.g. 'bugle-call' and 'bugle call'). - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Harmsworth Magazine, v. 1 -1898-1899 - No. 1, by Various - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HARMSWORTH MAGAZINE *** - -***** This file should be named 50672-8.txt or 50672-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/0/6/7/50672/ - -Produced by Victorian/Edwardian Pictorial Magazines, Lesley -Halamek, Jonathan Ingram 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 print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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- visibility: visible; - margin-left: 0;} - } - -span.dropcap {float:left; font-size:3em; font-weight:bold; line-height:80%;} -span.dropcap1 {float:left; font-size:2em; font-weight:bold; line-height:80%;} - -span.sp1 {margin-left: 0.5em;} -span.sp2 {margin-left: 1em;} -span.sp3 {margin-left: 1.5em;} - - @media handheld { -.figleft { -float : none; -text-align : center; -margin-right : 0; -} -} -@media handheld { -.figright { -float : none; -text-align : center; -margin-left : 0; -} -} -@media handheld { -body { -margin-left : 2%; -margin-right : 2%; -margin-top : 1%; -margin-bottom : 1%; -} -hr { -margin-top : 0.1em; -margin-bottom : 0.1em; -visibility : hidden; -color : white; -display : none; -} -} -@media print { -span.pagenum { -visibility : hidden; -color : white; -display : none; -} -} - - </style> -</head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Harmsworth Magazine, v. 1 1898-1899 - -No. 1, by Various - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: The Harmsworth Magazine, v. 1 1898-1899 - No. 1 - -Author: Various - -Release Date: December 31, 2015 [EBook #50672] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HARMSWORTH MAGAZINE *** - - - - -Produced by Victorian/Edwardian Pictorial Magazines, Lesley -Halamek, Jonathan Ingram and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pagei" id="pagei"></a></span></p> -<h2 class="half-title"><i>THE HARMSWORTH MAGAZINE.</i></h2> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pageii" id="pageii"></a></span></p> -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"><a href="images/001-frontis-800.png"><img src="images/001-frontis-400.png" width="400" height="484" alt="A FAIR ANGLO-SAXON." /></a> -<h3>A FAIR ANGLO-SAXON.<br /><br class="b30" /> - -<small><i>From the Painting by A. Seifert.</i></small></h3> - -<p class="author"><i>By Permission of the Berlin Photographic Co., Bond Street, W.</i></p></div> - -<hr class="clear" /> -<div class="center"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pageiii" id="pageiii"></a></span></p> - -<div class="chapter"> -<h1><span style="float: left; padding-left: 2em;"><small><span class="sc">The</span></small></span><br /> - -<span style="float: left;"><big>HARMSWORTH</big></span><br /> - -<small>MONTHLY PICTORIAL</small><br /> - -<span style="float: right;"><big>MAGAZINE</big></span><br /><br /> - -<span class="less2" style="float: right; padding-right: 1em;">VOLUME I.</span><br /> - -<span class="less2" style="float: right;">1898-9. No. 1.</span></h1> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"><img src="images/title_flowers-200.png" width="200" height="181" alt="title-page flowers" /></div> - -</div> -<p class="centerb1" style="padding-right: 25em;"><i>PUBLISHED BY</i></p> - -<p class="centerb1">HARMSWORTH BROS., <span class="sc">Limited, London, E.C.</span></p></div> - -<hr class="clear" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pageiv" id="pageiv"></a></span></p> - -<div id="half-title"> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 200px;"><img src="images/003-logo-200.png" width="200" height="227" alt="logo" /> -</div></div> -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="pagev" id="pagev"></a></span></p> - -<h2>INDEX TO VOL. I.</h2></div> - -<table class="toc space-below" summary="contents" border="0"> -<tr> - <th colspan="2"><h4>ARTICLES.</h4> - </th> -</tr> -<tr> - <td> </td> - <td class="right">PAGE.</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>ALBUM, A FAMOUS WIGMAKER'S FAMOUS. By Gavin Macdonald. -Illustrated by Facsimiles</td> - <td class="right">356</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>BALLOON JOURNEY, A GIRL'S, OVER LONDON. By Gertrude Bacon. -Illustrated by Photographs</td> - <td class="right">400</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>BEAUTIES, IRISH. By Ignota. -Illustrated by Photographs</td> - <td class="right">484</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>BLOODHOUNDS, A MAN HUNT WITH. By Alfred Arkas. -Illustrated by Photographs</td> - <td class="right">383</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>CHESHIRE TOWN, IN A DISAPPEARING. By Percy L. Parker. -Illustrated by Photographs</td> - <td class="right">166</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>"CHRYSANTHEMUMS CURLED HERE." A Chat with a Floral Barber. -By Alfred Arkas. Illustrated by Photographs</td> - <td class="right">579</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>CRACKERS, COSTLY CHRISTMAS. The Romance of Christmas Presents. -Illustrated by Photographs </td> - <td class="right">439</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>CRICKET AND CRICKETERS. Words by M. Randall Roberts. -Pictures by Mr. "Rip"</td> - <td class="right">212</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>CRICKET MATCH, A VERY QUEER. Mr. Dan Leno's Eleven v. Camberwell -United C.C. By Gavin Macdonald. Illustrated by Photographs</td> - <td class="right">323</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>CYCLIST, THE CLEVEREST AMATEUR, IN THE WORLD. Remarkable Trick -Riding by a Military Officer</td> - <td class="right">493</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>DANGER SIGNALS, NATURE'S. A Study of the Faces of Murderers. -By J. Holt Schooling. Illustrated by special Photographs</td> - <td class="right">656</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td><a class="toc" href="#page99">DARLINGS, LITTLE. By Somers J. Summers. -Photographic Illustrations by W. J. Byrne</a></td> - <td class="right"><a class="ask" href="#page99">99</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>DOCUMENTS, INCRIMINATING. -With Facsimiles of Fatal Writings</td> - <td class="right">304</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>DOOR-KNOCKERS, FAMOUS LONDON. -Illustrated by Photos specially taken.</td> - <td class="right">216</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td><a class="toc" href="#page5">DOUBLES IN REAL LIFE, NOTABLE. -With Photographic Evidence</a></td> - <td class="right"><a class="ask" href="#page5">5</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>ENGINE MATCH BETWEEN ENGLAND AND AMERICA, AN. By F. A. Talbot. -Illustrated by Photographs</td> - <td class="right">651</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td><a class="toc" href="#page3">EXCUSE, OUR, FOR THE ISSUE OF A SIXPENNY MAGAZINE -AT THREEPENCE</a></td> - <td class="right"><a class="ask" href="#page3">3</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>FIRE BRIGADE HEROES, TRAINING OUR. By Alfred Arkas. -Illustrated by Photographs</td> - <td class="right">243</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>FIRES, SOME SENSATIONAL. By Frederick A. A. Talbot. -Illustrated by Photographs</td> - <td class="right">529</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>FOOTBALL, MAKING A. An Essential Part of a Great Game. -Illustrated.</td> - <td class="right">444</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>FORTRESS, THE MOST REMARKABLE, IN THE WORLD. By Percy L. Parker. -Illustrated by Photographs</td> - <td class="right">274</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td><a class="toc" href="#page86">MAN-OF-WAR, HOME LIFE ON BOARD A. -Illustrated by Photographs</a></td> - <td class="right"><a class="ask" href="#page86">86</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>MAN IS MADE OF WHAT? By T. F. Manning. -Illustrated by Photographs</td> - <td class="right">339</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>MEDICAL DETECTIVE AND HIS WORK, THE. By T. F. Manning. -Illustrated by A. Morrow and by Diagrams</td> - <td class="right">144</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>MICE WORTH THEIR WEIGHT IN GOLD. By Gavin Macdonald. -Illustrated by Photographs</td> - <td class="right">631</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>MINIATURE CRAZE, THE MODERN. By H. M. Tindall. -Illustrated by Charming Examples</td> - <td class="right">197</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>MONEY, STRANGE KINDS OF. By Robert Machray. -Illustrated by Photographs</td> - <td class="right">639</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>MURDERS, LONDON'S UNDISCOVERED. By Lincoln Springfield. -Illustrated by Photographs</td> - <td class="right">515</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td><a class="toc" href="#page38">NEWSPAPER, MAKING A MODERN. -By Alfred C. Harmsworth</a></td> - <td class="right"><a class="ask" href="#page38">38</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>"PERPETUAL MOTION" SEEKERS. -With Illustrations of Machines recently invented</td> - <td class="right">315</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>PHOTOGRAPHIC LIES. With Remarkable Photos, proving -the Uselessness of the Camera as a Witness</td> - <td class="right">259</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td><a class="toc" href="#page106">POISON DEVICES. -Illustrated</a></td> - <td class="right"><a class="ask" href="#page106">106</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>POSTAGE STAMPS WORTH FORTUNES. -Illustrated by Facsimiles of Valuable Stamps</td> - <td class="right">327</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>RAILWAY SMASHES, FAMOUS. By Frederick A. Talbot. -Illustrated by Photographs </td> - <td class="right">227</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td><span class="pagenum"><a name="pagevi" id="pagevi"></a>[pg vi]</span> -ROYALTIES, LITTLE. -Illustrated with Photographs by Speaight </td> - <td class="right">590</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>ROYALTY, TATTOOED. By R. J. Stephen. -Illustrated by Photographs </td> - <td class="right">472</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td><a class="toc" href="#page23">SANDOW, HOW, MADE ME STRONG. -Illustrated with Photographs</a></td> - <td class="right"><a class="ask" href="#page23">23</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>SECRET CHAMBERS, REMARKABLE. -Written and illustrated by Allan Fea</td> - <td class="right">416</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td><a class="toc" href="#page67">SERMONS WITHOUT WORDS. A Marvellous Performance in Dumb Show. -By Alfred Arkas</a></td> - <td class="right"><a class="ask" href="#page67">67</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td><a class="toc" href="#page17">SKELETONS, MODERN FAMILY. By Beatrice Knollys. -Illustrated by A. S. Hartrick</a></td> - <td class="right"><a class="ask" href="#page17">17</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>SLEIGHS FOR CHRISTMAS. By J. E. Whitby. -Illustrated by Photographs</td> - <td class="right">558</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>SMOKER'S MUSEUM, FROM A. By T. C. Hepworth. -With Illustrations</td> - <td class="right">370</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>SPORT, THE MOST CRUEL, IN THE WORLD. By Sidney Gowing. -Illustrated by Photographs</td> - <td class="right">182</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>STATISTICS GONE MAD. By J. E. Grant. -Illustrated by Diagrams</td> - <td class="right">609</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>TEA, HOME OF FOUR O'CLOCK, THE. -Illustrated by Photographs</td> - <td class="right">605</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>TOY, A £10,000. Complete Working Railway in a Room. -By Robert Machray. Illustrated by Photographs</td> - <td class="right">125</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td><a class="toc" href="#page55">WEATHER, HOW WE GET OUR. By Gavin Macdonald. -Illustrated by Photographs</a></td> - <td class="right"><a class="ask" href="#page55">55</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>WHISTLER, THE WORLD'S CHAMPION. -Illustrated by Photographs and Musical Examples</td> - <td class="right">546</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>WHITE "ZOO," A. Lord Alington's Hobby. By Alfred Arkas. -Illustrated by Photographs</td> - <td class="right">154</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>WIVES, AMERICAN, OF ENGLISH HUSBANDS. -Illustrated by Portraits</td> - <td class="right">289</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>1898. Your Everyday Life in the past Twelve Months. -By Alfred Arkas</td> - <td class="right">455</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>3,000 MILES ON RAILWAY SLEEPERS. One Aspect of a Bicycle Tour -Round the World. By Edward Lunn. Illustrated by Photographs</td> - <td class="right">619</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <th colspan="2"><h4>STORIES.</h4> - </th> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>BABY SANTA CLAUS, A. The Story of a Christmas Reconciliation. -By Marion Elliston. Illustrated by Harold Copping</td> - <td class="right">521</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>BEHAVIOUR OF WARRINGTON, V.C., THE. By Percy E. Reinganum. -Illustrated by W. B. Wollen, R.I.</td> - <td class="right">236</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td><a class="toc" href="#page73">CHANCELLOR'S WARD, THE. By Richard Marsh. -Illustrated by F. H. Townsend</a></td> - <td class="right"><a class="ask" href="#page73">73</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>CHOLERA SHIP, THE. By Cutcliffe Hyne. -Illustrated by Richard Jack</td> - <td class="right">159</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>CLEVER MRS. BLADON. By E. Burrowes. -Illustrated by Sydney Cowell</td> - <td class="right">645</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>COUNT AND I, THE. The Story of a Stolen Letter. -By James Barratt. Illustrated by Robert Sauber</td> - <td class="right">447</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>COURTSHIP BY PROXY. By H. A. Therrauld. -Illustrated by Fred Pegram</td> - <td class="right">461</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>CROWDED HOUR, A. By Clarence Rook. -Illustrated by B. E. Minns</td> - <td class="right">634</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>CURSE OF THE CATSEYE, THE. By Alfred Slade. -Illustrated by E. Prater</td> - <td class="right">623</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>DAPHNE. By Walter E. Grogan. -Illustrated by Harold Copping</td> - <td class="right">361</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>DESCENT OF REGINALD HAMPTON, THE. By Halliwell Sutcliffe. -Illustrated by W. Rainey, R.I.</td> - <td class="right">189</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>DESPATCHES FOR GIBRALTAR, THE. By Gilbert Heron. -Illustrated by D. B. Waters</td> - <td class="right">389</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>DESTINY, MY. A Wayside Romance. By C. K. Burrow. -Illustrated by Fred Pegram</td> - <td class="right">347</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>EDITOR'S ESCAPADE, THE. By Archibald Eyre. -Illustrated by S. H. Vedder</td> - <td class="right">405</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>FACE AT THE DOOR, THE. By Walter D. Dobell. -Illustrated by S. H. Vedder</td> - <td class="right">373</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>FAIR NEIGHBOUR'S PIANO, MY, AND WHAT CAME OF IT. -By Henry Martley. Illustrated by F. H. Townsend</td> - <td class="right">281</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>"FINDER WILL BE REWARDED, THE." A Bachelor's Romance. -By Gerald Brenan. Illustrated by Sydney Cowell</td> - <td class="right">489</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>FIVE HUNDRED POUND PRIZE, THAT. By Richard Marsh. -Illustrated by John H. Bacon</td> - <td class="right">172</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>GASCOYNE'S TERRIBLE REVENGE. A Story of the Indian Mutiny. -By J. F. Cornish. Illustrated by Vereker M. Hamilton. R.P.E.</td> - <td class="right">265</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td><span class="pagenum"><a name="pagevii" id="pagevii"></a>[pg vii]</span> -<a class="toc" href="#page11">GOLDEN CIRCLET, THE. By Charles Kennett Burrow. -Illustrated by Ralph Peacock</a></td> - <td class="right"><a class="ask" href="#page11">11</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td><a class="toc" href="#page61">HER LETTER! By J. Harwood Panting. -Illustrated by W. B. Wollen, R.I.</a></td> - <td class="right"><a class="ask" href="#page61">61</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>HIS HIGHNESS THE RAJAH. The Quest of the Yellow Diamond. -By Beatrice Heron-Maxwell. Illustrated by E. J. Sullivan</td> - <td class="right">549</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td><a class="toc" href="#page94">HIS SOVEREIGN REMEDY. By Clarence Rook. -Illustrated by B. E. Minns</a></td> - <td class="right"><a class="ask" href="#page94">94</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>HOW THE BURGLAR HELPED AT CHRISTMAS. By Lucian Sorrel. -Illustrated by H. M. Brock</td> - <td class="right">476</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>HOW THE MINISTER'S NOTES WERE RECOVERED. -By Beatrice Heron-Maxwell. Illustrated by Fred Pegram</td> - <td class="right">250</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>IAN'S SACRIFICE. By Alick Munro. -Illustrated by Ralph Peacock</td> - <td class="right">309</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>"KLONDYKE, OFF TO." By George A. Best. -Illustrated with Novel Life Photographs</td> - <td class="right">583</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>LONDON'S LATEST LION. By Gilbert Dayle. -Illustrated by Fred Pegram</td> - <td class="right">595</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>"MAN OVERBOARD!" An Episode of the Red Sea. -By Winston Spencer Churchill. Illustrated by Henry Austin</td> - <td class="right">662</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>MISSING Q.C.'s, THE. By John Oxenham. -Illustrated by Frank Craig and T. Robinson</td> - <td class="right">497</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td><a class="toc" href="#page49">MOTOR-CAR ELOPEMENT, AND HOW IT ENDED, THEIR. By Edgar Jepson. -Illustrated by H. R. Millar</a></td> - <td class="right"><a class="ask" href="#page49">49</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>PRINCESS IN GREEN AND TAN, A. By Arthur Preston. -Illustrated by A. Rackham</td> - <td class="right">611</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>SHORT MEMORY OF MR. JOSEPH SCORER, THE VERY. -By John Oxenham. Illustrated by H. M. Brock</td> - <td class="right">131</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>STIR OUTSIDE THE CAFÉ ROYAL, THE. By Clarence Rook. -Illustrated by Hal Hurst, R.B.A.</td> - <td class="right">319</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td><a class="toc" href="#page30">STONE RIDER, THE. By Nellie K. Blissett. -Illustrated by Max Cowper</a></td> - <td class="right"><a class="ask" href="#page30">30</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>TELEGRAPH MYSTERY, A. By W. B. Northrop. -Illustrated by H. H. Flère.</td> - <td class="right">539</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>TRAGEDY OF A THIRD SMOKER, THE. By Cutcliffe Hyne. -Illustrated by J. Finnemore. R.B.A.</td> - <td class="right">297</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>TRAVELLING COMPANION, MY. By Catherine Childar. -Illustrated by Fred Pegram</td> - <td class="right">115</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <th colspan="2"><h4>FULL PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS.</h4> - </th> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>"ANDRÉE, INDEED! I WAS THERE LONG AGO." -From the Painting by T.C. Hepworth</td> - <td class="right">669</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>BURDEN OF LOVE, A. -From the Painting by N. Sichel</td> - <td class="right">224</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>CHARLES I. ON HIS WAY TO EXECUTION. -From the Painting by Ernest Crofts, R.A.</td> - <td class="right">331</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>CHRISTMAS, THE FIRST. -From the Painting of H. J. Sinkel</td> - <td class="right">434</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>CUBAN BELLE, A. -From the Painting by Gabriel Ferrier</td> - <td class="right">219</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>DAUGHTER OF CANADA, A. -Photographic Study</td> - <td class="right">565</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>DECEMBER DAY IN THE OLDEN TIME, A. -From the Painting by A. Perez</td> - <td class="right">568</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>DRAGON AND GEORGE, THE. -From the Painting by R. Holyoake</td> - <td class="right">333</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>EMPTY CHAIR, THE. -From the Painting by Briton Rivière, R.A.</td> - <td class="right">336</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>EVERYBODY'S FAVOURITE. -Photographic Study</td> - <td class="right">561</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td><a class="toc" href="#page110">FAVOURITE, THE. -From the Painting by Arthur J. Elsley</a></td> - <td class="right"><a class="ask" href="#page110">110</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>FOR DEAR LIFE. -From the Painting by Stanley Berkeley</td> - <td class="right">329</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>GIRL OF THE PERIOD. -From the Painting by Heywood Hardy</td> - <td class="right">668</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td><a class="toc" href="#page112">GOOD NIGHT! -From the Painting by G. Hom</a></td> - <td class="right"><a class="ask" href="#page112">112</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>GORDONS AND GREYS TO THE FRONT. -From the Painting by Stanley Berkeley</td> - <td class="right">430</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>GREEK GIRLS PLAYING BALL. -From the Painting by the late Lord Leighton</td> - <td class="right">577</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>GREUZE'S MASTERPIECES, ONE OF. -Now in the National Gallery</td> - <td class="right">425</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>HAPPY AS A KING. -Photographic Study</td> - <td class="right">671</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td><a class="toc" href="#page109">"HUSH!" -From the Painting by Maud Goodman</a></td> - <td class="right"><a class="ask" href="#page109">109</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>IN RUSSIA—THE TERROR OF THE PLAIN. -From the Painting by A. Von W. Kowalski</td> - <td class="right">672</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td><a class="toc" href="#page56">JOHN BULL FOR EVER—WHAT WE HAVE WE'LL HOLD. -From the Painting by Maud Earl</a></td> - <td class="right"><a class="ask" href="#page56">56</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td><span class="pagenum"><a name="pageviii" id="pageviii"></a>[pg viii]</span> -JUDITH. -From the Painting by N. Sichel</td> - <td class="right">334</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>LAKE WINDERMERE IN THE WINTER OF 1885. -From a Photograph</td> - <td class="right">564</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>LAST ELEVEN AT MAIWAND, THE. -From the Painting by Frank Feller</td> - <td class="right">566</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>LAST MINUTE, THE. NOW OR NEVER. -From the Painting by T. M. Hemy</td> - <td class="right">443</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>LITTLE DEAR, A. -Photographic Study</td> - <td class="right">667</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>LIVE AND LET LIVE. -From the Painting by A. W. Strutt</td> - <td class="right">332</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>MAKING A MARRIAGE IN THE OLDEN TIME. -From the Painting by A. T. Vernon</td> - <td class="right">221</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>MANNERS AT TABLE. -From the Painting by A. J. Elsley</td> - <td class="right">330</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td><a class="toc" href="#page111">MEDITATION. -From the Painting by N. Sichel</a></td> - <td class="right"><a class="ask" href="#page111">111</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>MIRIAM THE PROPHETESS. -From the Painting by N. Sichel</td> - <td class="right">574</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>MOTHER'S DARLING. -Photographic Study</td> - <td class="right">569</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>NAPOLEON'S FLIGHT AFTER WATERLOO. -From the Painting by A. C. Gow, R.A.</td> - <td class="right">666</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>OPPORTUNITY FOR FLATTERY, AN. -From the Painting by D. Hernandez</td> - <td class="right">575</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>OVERTAKEN! -From the Painting by John A. Lomax</td> - <td class="right">280</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td><a class="toc" href="#page85">PETS, SOME COSTLY. -From Photographs</a></td> - <td class="right"><a class="ask" href="#page85">85</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>PRINCE, OUR. -From the Painting by A. Stuart Wortley</td> - <td class="right">567</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>PUSHING FAMILY, A. -From the Painting by G. A. Holmes</td> - <td class="right">428</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>RUSSIAN BELLE, A. -Photographic Study</td> - <td class="right">571</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>SALMON POACHER, THE. -From the Painting by Douglas Adams</td> - <td class="right">335</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>SON AND HEIR, THE. -From the Painting by L. Schmutzler</td> - <td class="right">427</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td><a class="toc" href="#page108">SPAIN, A FLOWER OF. -From the Painting by N. Sichel</a></td> - <td class="right"><a class="ask" href="#page108">108</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>SPAIN, A LITTLE MAID FROM. -Photographic Study</td> - <td class="right">338</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>SPANISH PEACE COMMISSIONER, A. -From the Painting by Hal Hurst, R.B.A.</td> - <td class="right">665</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>SUMMER. -From the Painting by W. Reynolds Stephens</td> - <td class="right">220</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td><a class="toc" href="#page2">SWEET AND TWENTY. -From the Painting by G. L. Seymour</a></td> - <td class="right"><a class="ask" href="#page2">2</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>TALLY HO! -From the Painting by Heywood Hardy </td> - <td class="right">572</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>TIME TO GET UP. -From the Painting by A. J. Elsley</td> - <td class="right">426</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>TURNER'S GREAT WORK—THE FIGHTING TEMERAIRE. -Now in the National Gallery</td> - <td class="right">429</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>VERY OLD, OLD STORY, A. -From the Painting by L. Alma Tadema, R.A.</td> - <td class="right">670</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>WAITS, THE. -From the Painting by W. H. Trood</td> - <td class="right">570</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>WATER CARRIER, THE. -From the Painting by J. W. Godward</td> - <td class="right">222</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>WHICH WINS? -From the Painting by Arthur J. Elsley</td> - <td class="right">223</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>WHY NO. I. WAS SO POPULAR. -Head, from the Painting by A. Seifert</td> - <td class="right">563</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>WHY THE ANTELOPES STAMPEDED. -From the Painting by William Strutt</td> - <td class="right">226</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>WILL HE COME? -From the Painting by Marcus Stone, R.A.</td> - <td class="right">114</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>YORKSHIRE LASS, A. -Photographic Study</td> - <td class="right">573</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <th colspan="2"><h4>POETRY.</h4> - </th> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>BABY BELLE. By Bernard Malcolm Ramsay. -Illustrated by Harold Copping </td> - <td class="right">482</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>BABY, IN PRAISE OF. By Barrington McGregor. -Illustrated by C. Robinson</td> - <td class="right">661</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>GOLDEN HAIR AND CURLYHEAD. By Allan Upward. -Illustrated by J. H. Bacon</td> - <td class="right">435</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>LITTLE MAID. -Illustrated by C. Robinson</td> - <td class="right">258</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>ROGUEY MAN, THE. -Illustrated by H. H. Flère</td> - <td class="right">346</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td><a class="toc" href="#page22">ROSE AT LAST, A. By Clifton Bingham. -Illustrated by Harold Nelson</a></td> - <td class="right"><a class="ask" href="#page22">22</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>SAD FATE OF MISTRESS PRUE, THE. -Illustrated by Robert Sauber </td> - <td class="right">399</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>SHOE, A TINY. -Illustrated by Archie Watkins</td> - <td class="right">308</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>SUNSET, BEYOND THE. By Clifton Bingham. -Illustrated by Charles Robinson</td> - <td class="right">235</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>THREE SCORE AND TEN. -Illustrated by T. Walter West</td> - <td class="right">388</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td>TO A BLANK SPACE. By the Rev. J. Hudson, M.A. -Illustrated by Robert Wallace</td> - <td class="right">576</td> -</tr> -</table> - -<hr class="clear" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page1" id="page1"></a></span></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page2" id="page2"></a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"><a href="images/009-800.png"><img src="images/009-400.png" width="400" height="496" alt="SWEET AND TWENTY." /></a> -<h3>SWEET AND TWENTY.<br /><br class="b30" /> - -<small><i>From the Painting by G. L. Seymour.</i></small></h3> -</div> - -<hr class="clear" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page3" id="page3"></a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px; margin-bottom: -4em;"><a href="images/010a-1200.png"><img src="images/010a-600.png" width="600" height="171" alt="London" /></a></div> - -<h2><span class="spaced3" style="padding-right: 5em;"><big>OUR EXCUSE . . .</big></span><br /><br class="b50" /> - -<span class="less2">FOR THE ISSUE OF A SIXPENNY MAGAZINE AT THREEPENCE.</span><br /><br class="b50" /> - -<span class="less2">. . . <i>SOME REASONS WHY</i>.</span></h2></div> - -<div><img class="drop-cap" src="images/010b-100.png" width="100" height="100" alt="T" /></div> -<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">THE</span> - beginning of a new Magazine, once an event, is now so much a -commonplace that the ancient excuse of the "long felt want" no -longer serves.</p> - -<p>In the days of the Nabobs, the gentle shaking of the Pagoda tree -sufficed to bring great stores of wealth, but these be the times of -the fallen rupee. Your modern Anglo-Indian toils out his existence for a bare -pittance. And it is so in the making of Magazines. One hundred and fifty years ago the -mere issue of the "Gentleman's" stirred to their depths the Coffee Houses and the -Clubs, not only here in the Old Country, but in our North American Colonies as well.</p> - -<p>Times are changed, alas! "The Harmsworth Magazine," though, indeed, it appeals -to an English-speaking audience of over one hundred millions, will at best -provoke a little favourable comment in the train and the library, for the Magazine field -has been vastly exploited, and especially of late. A modern buyer of periodical -publications rises as warily to a new lure as a twice-shot-over partridge to the gun.</p> - -<p>The reader of Magazines has of late years been harried by a direct, by an -enfilading, and a ricochetting fire of new adventures, some honestly and avowedly frivolous, -others portentously literary, a few loftily artistic. Every imaginable plan has -been adopted whereby his capture might be effected. Projectiles calculated to -vanquish by size and weight of paper have been hurled at him; there have even been -surreptitious and spy-like attempts to enter his domestic circle by seeking the favour of his -wife and daughters by means of "Women's Departments," all frocks, furbelows, and -complexion cures; and worse, his very children have been attacked by page on page of -"Nursery Chat" and "Tiny Tales for Little Listeners."</p> - -<p>Last straw of all, he has been patronised by the vast army of "Great Authors" -of the period. And if the chit-chat of the press is to be believed there never -were in Rome, in Athens, or in the days of Elizabeth herself, so many distinguished -litterateurs as at present. The unfortunate victim has trembled at the solemn -pomp of</p> - -<blockquote><p> -"The editor of the 'Monster Magazine' has pleasure in announcing he has been so fortunate -as to secure the masterpiece of Mr. ——." -</p></blockquote> - -<p>or,</p> - -<blockquote><p> -"It is rumoured that Mr. —— has been induced to enter into an agreement to contribute an -important series of short stories to the "Monster Magazine" during the Spring of 1905. -Mr. —— is entirely occupied in the fulfilment of various contracts until that time." -</p></blockquote> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page4" id="page4"></a></span></p> - -<p>It is "right here," as our American kinsmen have it, that "The Harmsworth -Magazine" comes in.</p> - -<p>Together with a great many other people, we came to the conclusion long since -that a good deal of the literary wares that are foisted on the public by means -of the ordinary advertising methods of personal paragraphs and "interviews" is mainly -rubbish. Frankly and openly do we, therefore, declare that mere "names" will -never command an entrance to the pages of this Magazine. As with our "Daily Mail" and -our other journals, we shall rely on new writers. The public is weary of the reiteration -of the same contributors to each of the monthly publications. He (and she) wants -something new. It is our desire, for the sake of the public, for the benefit of young -artists and others, and for our own profit, to avoid the productions of the -professional "ring" of much advertised mediocrity which most assuredly dominates many of our -Magazines to-day, though the work of really representative men and women will -always be secured, without regard to its cost.</p> - -<p>In selecting the price at which "The Harmsworth Magazine" should be issued -to the British, Canadian, Australasian, South African, and Anglo-Indian public, -we choose that of the two most distinguished journals in our language, "The Times" -and "Punch."</p> - -<p>Can such a publication as this be sold for 3d.? Provided we reach a gigantic -circulation, we can do it. We are enabled to issue a threepenny Magazine -containing more expensive literary matter, more numerous pictures, and more pages than the -sixpenny Magazines of a few months back, at so ridiculous a price, because this -Magazine is only a small incident in an organization controlling four daily -journals and nearly thirty weekly periodicals; because we already possess and are now -building printing machinery of an entirely novel and labour-saving nature.</p> - -<p>The Magazine will be cheap as to price only. In every respect, save, perhaps, -mere bulk, "The Harmsworth Magazine" will compete frankly, and without reserve, -with older friends in the same field.</p> - -<p>The experiment, largely due to a devoted band of workers, headed by my brother -Cecil, is at least an interesting one. Will it succeed? Much depends upon the -good word of those who read it. If it meets with your approval, if you consider that -the enterprise is worthy of commendation, will you make our effort known to your -circle?</p> - -<p class="author"><span class="sc">Alfred C. Harmsworth</span>.</p> -<!-- 2 --> -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a href="images/011-1000.png"><img src="images/011-600.png" width="600" height="242" alt="" /></a> -<h3 style="margin-top: -2.6em; padding-right: 11em;">WE ARE FIVE.</h3> -</div> - -<hr class="clear" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page5" id="page5"></a>[pg 5]</span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><img src="images/012a-centre-600.png" width="600" height="100" alt="Frieze" /></div> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"><a href="images/012a-left-700.png"><img src="images/012a-left-200.png" width="200" height="248" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center"><i>Elliot & Fry, photo.</i></p> - -<p class="center">THE DUKE OF NORFOLK.</p></div> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 195px;"><a href="images/012a-right-700.png"><img src="images/012a-right-195.png" width="195" height="248" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center"><i>Elliot & Fry, photo.</i></p> - -<p class="center">MR. G. MANVILLE FENN.</p></div> - -<h2 class="m1"><span class="spaced2">NOTABLE DOUBLES</span><br /> -<span class="spaced2">IN REAL LIFE.</span></h2></div> - -<p class="centern1"><i>With Photographic Evidence.</i></p> - -<p><span class="dropcap">I</span> T is pretty generally believed that the Czars of Russia are in the -habit of employing understudies to personate them when some more than -usually hazardous public appearance has to be made. Whether or not -this is true we cannot take upon ourselves to say, but it is very -clear that if Nicholas II. were in need of a "double," he would not -require to go outside the circle of his own relatives to find an -almost exact replica of himself in our Duke of York. The two Princes -are first cousins, but the facial resemblance existing between them is -far more remarkable than is ordinarily the case between near -relations. It is true, of course, that the Duke of York is a -better-looking man than his cousin, but any make-up artist, by -the employment of a few pencilled lines round the eyes, and by -re-arranging the hair, could transform H.R.H. into an exact likeness -of the Czar.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;"><a href="images/012b-800.png"><img src="images/012b-350.png" width="350" height="493" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center"><i>W & D Downey, photo, Ebury Street.</i></p> - -<p class="center">H.I.M. THE CZAR AND H.R.H. THE DUKE OF YORK.</p></div> - -<p>More noteworthy still, because of the absence of relationship between -them, is the likeness of the present Postmaster-General, the Duke of -Norfolk, and the veteran novelist, Mr. George Manville Fenn. Looking -upon the two portraits, it is not easy to believe that Mr. Fenn is -sixteen years the senior of the head of the great house of Howard. -Another curious feature in connection with the two cases before us is -the fact that, although the Duke of Norfolk is almost as much like Mr. -George Manville Fenn as one pea resembles another, his resemblance to -certain portraits of the great Charles Dickens is rather remote, -whereas Mr. Fenn's is very close.</p> - -<p>It should here be mentioned that in the case of most of our doubles -the likeness is even more pronounced in actual life than it appears -from the photographs. In many instances the gestures, the walk, and -the little mannerisms of the personages here portrayed are practically -identical. The writer recalls to mind the example of a gentleman -well-known in the West end of London who resembles the present Duke of -Devonshire as closely as the Duke of York resembles the Czar. The Duke -of Devonshire's imitator—if he be such—not only wears his hat -pressed down over his eyes in the well-known fashion of the Duke, but -assumes almost as inimitably that intensely -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page6" id="page6"></a>[pg 6]</span> -bored look that has deceived so many people as to the true character -of the head of the Liberal Unionist party. Mere photographs would -inevitably fail to do justice to a case of this kind.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px;"><a href="images/013a-700.png"><img src="images/013a-200.png" width="200" height="260" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center"><i>Russell & Sons, photo.</i><br /> -THE RT. HON. J. CHAMBERLAIN, M.P.</p></div> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 200px;"><a href="images/013b-700.png"><img src="images/013b-200.png" width="200" height="281" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center"><i>London Stereoscopic Co., photo.</i><br /> -MR. AUSTEN CHAMBERLAIN, M.P.</p></div> - -<p>In regard to the adjoining portraits of Mr. Austen Chamberlain and -that of his scarcely less distinguished father, it is noticeable that -in addition to the striking facial resemblance, there is the same -defect in the sight of the right eye occasioning the use of the -monocle. Even if we take it for granted that Mr. Joseph Chamberlain -has indulged in the harmless foible of dressing his hair and arranging -the cast of his countenance to accentuate his likeness to the member -for East Worcestershire, it cannot be gainsaid that the similarity -between the son and the father is real enough to merit illustration in -this gallery of "doubles."</p> - -<p>Jesting apart, those who have studied Mr. Austen Chamberlain in the -House and on the platform, prophesy for him a very remarkable career. -He has much of the readiness and all the imperturbability that have -made his father the ablest "parliamentary hand" since the retirement -of Mr. Gladstone. It is interesting to note that the disbelief of Mr. -Chamberlain <i>père</i> in exercise, as a means of recruiting the health, -is not shared by Mr. C. <i>fils</i>, who is an enthusiastic cyclist.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px; clear: both;"><a href="images/013c-1000.png"><img src="images/013c-500.png" width="500" height="332" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center"><span style="margin-left: -3em;"><i>London Stereoscopic Co., photo.</i></span><span style="padding-left: 6em;"><i>Elliott & Fry, photo.</i></span><br /> -MR. L. ALMA-TADEMA, R.A. <span style="padding-left: 4em;">THE LATE MR. GEO. DU MAURIER.</span></p></div> - -<p>The late Mr. Du Maurier was of French extraction, while Mr. -Alma-Tadema was born at Dronryp, in Holland, yet they might have been -twin brothers, so strangely alike were they. If Mr. Du Maurier had -worn his hair a little longer and parted it in the middle, the most -intimate mutual friends of the two distinguished artists must have -found it difficult to tell which was which. An amusing story is told -illustrating this point. Mr. Du Maurier, dining at a friend's house -one evening, was placed next to a lady whom he did not recollect to -have met before. A brief dialogue, something to this purpose, ensued:</p> - -<p>Lady: "You know, Mr. Alma-Tadema, that you are supposed to resemble -Mr. du Maurier very closely. For my part, I do not see how the most -superficial observer could be deceived in the matter!"</p> - -<p>Mr. Du Maurier: "Pardon me, but I am Mr. Du Maurier!"</p> - -<p>Some people tell the story the other way round—with Mr. Alma-Tadema -as the second party in the dialogue—with equal effect.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page7" id="page7"></a>[pg 7]</span></p> - -<p>These are portraits of Professor Stuart, M.P. for Hackney, and Mr. -Stanley J. Weyman, the novelist. If Mr. Weyman ever becomes a member -of Parliament it is to be hoped that he will not relinquish his -eyeglass. Were he to do so he would run a great risk of merging his -identity in that of the Professor. He might not object to this, -however, nor would Professor Stuart protest very indignantly we may be -sure, were he to find himself suddenly credited with the authorship of -Mr. Weyman's fascinating romances. Let us hope that Mr. Weyman will -not enter the political arena, bestowing on Westminster the gifts that -were meant for mankind.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"><a href="images/014a-1000.png"> -<img src="images/014a-500.png" width="500" height="336" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center"><span style="margin-left: -1em;"><i>Elliott & Fry, photo.</i></span><span style="padding-left: 8em;"><i>Elliott & Fry, photo.</i></span><br /> -PROFESSOR STUART, M.P. <span style="padding-left: 5em;">MR. STANLEY J. WEYMAN.</span></p></div> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 382px;"><a href="images/014b-750.png"><img src="images/014b-390.png" width="382" height="473" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center"><span style="margin-left: -1em;"><i>Elliott & Fry, photo.</i></span><span style="padding-left: 6em;"><i>Elliott & Fry, photo.</i></span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: -3em">MR. EDWARD GERMAN.</span><span style="padding-left: 5em;">MR. ANTHONY HOPE.</span></p></div> - -<p>Most of us have forgotten that Mr. Anthony Hope contested a seat in -Parliament in 1892, but few of us are sorry that the gifted author -failed to get in. Mr. Anthony Hope Hawkins, to give him his full name, -is an excellent speaker, but even that gift is not so useful in -Parliament as consistent and unquestioning voting-power, and until -members are allowed to read their speeches the gift of authorship will -remain at a discount there. A good many of us, perhaps, could cut -tolerable figures at Westminster, but our Anthony Hopes and Stanley -Weymans are few and far between, and we would wish to keep them to -their proper work of literature. Mr. Edward German, Mr. Anthony Hope's -double, is a young composer who has done very well already, and may be -expected to do better in the future.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 389px;"><a href="images/014c-660.png"><img src="images/014c-390.png" width="389" height="522" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center"><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Elliott & Fry, photo.</i></span><span style="padding-left: 6em;"><i>Hills & Saunders, photo.</i></span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: -3em">THE RT. HON. CECIL J. RHODES.</span><span style="padding-left: 5em;">SIR J. STAINER.</span></p></div> - -<p class="space-above3">A close examination of the portraits of the Rt. Hon. Cecil John Rhodes -and of Sir John Stainer, the Professor of Music at Oxford, should well -repay the expert physiognomist. At first blush it seems hardly -probable that the man of action, the empire builder, should have much -in common with the scholarly musician—though indeed Mr. Rhodes has -"faced the music" right manfully more than once in the course of his -splendid career. Examine carefully the mouths of our two celebrities, -and take note of the well-defined lines leading downwards from the -corner of the nose. The eyes, too, and the contours of the two faces -are strangely similar. There -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page8" id="page8"></a>[pg 8]</span> -is a dimple in Mr. Rhodes' cheeks that proves conclusively, if we had -no other evidence, that Mr. Rhodes is a man of humour, nor are similar -indications wanting in the adjoined portrait of Sir John Stainer. If -Sir John had taken himself off to South Africa in early youth it might -have been his fate to add another empire to the Queen's dominions; if -Mr. Rhodes had stayed on at Oriel College, Oxford, and devoted his -vast abilities to the study of music, he might now be occupying the -professional chair in that art at his Alma Mater.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 500px; margin-top: 5em;"><a href="images/015a-1000.png"><img src="images/015a-500.png" width="500" height="297" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center"><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>London Stereoscopic Co., photo.</i></span><span style="padding-left: 8em;"><i>London Stereoscopic Co., photo.</i></span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 1em;">MR. JOHN HARE.</span><span style="padding-left: 12em;">MR. ARTHUR ROBERTS.</span></p></div> - -<p class="space-above6">There is a distinct style of theatrical face that we all recognise -directly we see it. For instance, the heavy tragedian with the blue -chin and luxuriant hair, à la Sir Henry Irving, is known wherever he -is seen, and quite a number of pages of our Magazine might be filled -with his doubles. But Mr. John Hare and Mr. Arthur Roberts whose -portraits we give side by side are comedians (of widely different -styles), and are not particularly theatrical in appearance. Off the -stage Mr. Hare might be taken for an eminent Q.C., while "Arthur" -might be supposed to move exclusively in turf circles. Mr. Hare, whose -real name is Fairs, is, of course, the best "old man" actor we have. -In connection with this fact he himself tells a rather good story. He -was in a carriage on the Underground Railway when he met an old -school-fellow. Gradually the conversation turned to theatres. "Are you -fond of the stage?" Mr. Hare was asked by his friend. When the reply -was "Yes," he presumed that Mr. Hare had seen a certain play at the -Prince of Wales's.</p> - -<p>"No," said Mr. Hare, "I can't say I have seen it!"</p> - -<p>"Then you should go at once," said his friend. "It's a capital play, -and a devilish clever old man acts in it—a fellow named Hare!"</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 500px; margin-top: 2em;"><a href="images/015b-1000.png"><img src="images/015b-500.png" width="500" height="349" alt="" /></a> - -<p class="center"><span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>A. Sachs, photo, Bradford.</i></span><span style="padding-left: 8em;"><i>London Stereoscopic Co., photo.</i></span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 3em;">MR. MARK OLDROYD, M.P.</span><span style="padding-left: 7em;">LORD BALFOUR OF BURLEIGH.</span></p></div> - -<p class="space-above7">Lord Balfour of Burleigh, the Secretary for Scotland, and Mr. Mark -Oldroyd, M.P. for Dewsbury, are an interesting pair of political -doubles. Lord Balfour (whose title by the way was attainted in 1716 -and only restored to the present peer in 1869) is one of the hard -workers in the House of Lords, and knows more about -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page9" id="page9"></a>[pg 9]</span> -education, water supplies, and Sunday closing, than an omnibus-full of -average members of the Lower House. When not actively engaged, in his -Secretarial capacity, in looking after the interests of the Northern -Kingdom, Lord Balfour is wont to put in a little light work as -chairman of a factory or rating committee. Mr. Mark Oldroyd divides -his time between his political duties and his business, as a woollen -manufacturer, in Dewsbury. He has been mayor of the famous Yorkshire -town, and is as proud of his native place as his townsfolk are proud -of him.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 500px;"><a href="images/015c-1000.png"><img src="images/015c-500.png" width="500" height="316" alt="" /></a> - -<p class="center"><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Elliott & Fry, photo.</i></span><span style="padding-left: 10em;"><i>Russell & Sons, photo.</i></span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: -1em;">SIR THOS. ESMONDE, M.P.</span><span style="padding-left: 10em;">SIR E. GREY, M.P.</span></p></div> - -<p class="space-above3">Two youthful baronets and Members of Parliament now claim our -attention. Sir Edward Grey is almost as distinguished in Parliament as -he is in the world of athletics—he is once more tennis (not -lawn-tennis) champion for England. As Under-Secretary for Foreign -Affairs in the last Government, he was a pronounced success—his -manner being voted only less superior than that of the extremely -superior person, the Hon. George Curzon, who ornaments the same office -at the present time. Sir Thomas Esmonde, born in the same year (1862) -as Sir Edward Grey, should have a splendid parliamentary future before -him, for he is a descendant of no less a celebrity than the great -Henry Grattan.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 494px;"><a href="images/016a-1000.png"><img src="images/016a-500.png" width="494" height="407" alt="" /></a> -<div class="captionr"><i>Elliott & Fry, photo.</i><span style="padding-left: 4em;"><i>Elliott & Fry, photo.</i></span><span style="padding-left: 4em;"><i>London Stereoscopic Co., photo.</i></span><br /> -RT. HON. LORD ROSEBERY.<span style="padding-left: 1em;">HON. PHILIP STANHOPE, M.P.</span><span style="padding-left: 1em;">RT. HON. ARNOLD MORLEY, M.P.</span></div></div> - -<p class="space-above3" style="clear: left;">Lord Rosebery has at least two doubles among public men. This is not -to be wondered at when one considers how popular a man is the last -Liberal Prime Minister.</p> - -<p>When the Duke of Wellington was living, it was the pride of many a -private citizen to be thought like the great Duke; and Disraeli had -many doubles, the late Sir James Stansfeld being one of them. In -Germany, at the present moment, we may meet passable duplicates of -Bismarck in every town. Who does not recollect the perfect army of -Randolph Churchills that invaded society when that brilliant young -statesman's fame was at its greatest? It is surely a harmless conceit -that causes an inoffensive private person, if he in any way resembles -a great man of whom everybody is talking, to accentuate the likeness -by every means in his power.</p> - -<p>But in the case of Lord Rosebery's doubles it is somewhat different. -Both Mr. Arnold Morley and Mr. Philip Stanhope are distinguished men -themselves, and we may be quite sure that they do not spend much of -their time dressing up to the likeness of their political leader. Mr. -Philip Stanhope is a near relative of Lord Rosebery's, and is of -exactly the same age. Mr. Arnold Morley is two years younger than Lord -Rosebery (having been born in 1849), was Postmaster-General in the -last Liberal Administration, and may some day be Prime Minister.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 492px;"><a href="images/016b-1000.png"><img src="images/016b-500.png" width="492" height="361" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center"><span style="margin-left: -1em;"><i>Valentine & Sons, photo.</i></span><span style="padding-left: 10em;"><i>Westfield, photo, Walmer.</i></span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: -4em;">THE LATE RT. HON. W. E. GLADSTONE.</span><span style="padding-left: 6em;">MR. H. PAGE, J.P.</span></p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page10" id="page10"></a>[pg 10]</span></p> - -<p class="space-above3">With doubles of Mr. Gladstone we might easily fill several pages of -this magazine. Mr. Henry Page, J.P., of Deal, is an almost exact -replica of the venerable statesman, and has been the recipient of -attentions really meant for Mr. Gladstone on more than one occasion. -It is a singular fact that Mr. Page's father bore a remarkable -likeness to the Duke of Wellington.</p> - -<p>The reader will have noticed already that the greater number of our -doubles is to be found in the ranks of the politicians. It is really -quite astonishing to contemplate how many doubles are to be found in -the House of Commons itself.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 396px; clear: left;"><a href="images/017a-700.png"><img src="images/017a-400.png" width="396" height="549" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center"><span style="margin-left: -1em;"><i>Elliott & Fry, photo.</i></span><span style="padding-left: 8em;"><i>Elliott & Fry, photo.</i></span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: -3em;">MR. H. O. ARNOLD FORSTER, M.P.</span><span style="padding-left: 4em;">MR. E. F. G. HATCH, M.P.</span></p></div> - -<p class="space-above5">Mr. H. O. Arnold Forster and Mr. E. F. G. Hatch, M.P. for the Gorton -Division of South-West Lancs, for instance, it is said grow more like -one another every day.</p> - -<p>The difficulty experienced by the Speaker in attaching the right name -to these gentlemen when they rise to "catch his eye" must be very -considerable.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px; margin-top: 5em;"><a href="images/017b-800.png"><img src="images/017b-400.png" width="400" height="430" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center"><span style="margin-left: 1em;"><i>Russell & Sons, photo.</i></span><span style="padding-left: 6em;"><i>Elliott & Fry, photo.</i></span><br /> -<span style="margin-left: 3em;">MR. J. ROCHE, M.P.</span><span style="padding-left: 4em;">RT. HON. LORD GEORGE</span><br /> -<span style="padding-left: 16em;">HAMILTON, M.P.</span></p></div> - -<p>Lord George Hamilton, who, with Mr. J. Roche, M.P., makes up the last -pair of our doubles, is an excellent example of the immense -disadvantage attaching to a public man whose features do not lend -themselves to caricature. Had Lord George overcome his natural -deficiencies in this respect by the adoption of an eyeglass, an -orchid, or an eccentric brand of waistcoat, he might ere now have been -ranked among our Prime Ministers, for it is an undoubted fact that -these details are better remembered by the public at large than years -of devoted hard work.</p> - -<p>Disraeli's cork-screw curl on the forehead is less likely to be -forgotten than his splendid services to the Empire, while it may be -asserted with confidence that Mr. Chamberlain's eyeglass and orchid -will linger in the public mind long after his personal sacrifices for -the principle of Unionism are familiar to none but the student of -history.</p> - -<p class="space-below">When at the General Election of 1868 Lord George captured the seat for -the County of Middlesex—then regarded as an impregnable Liberal -stronghold—a dazzling future was prophesied for him. If these -prophecies have not been realised to the full extent it is not, as we -believe, because Lord George has not lived up to his earlier -reputation, but simply because Nature has not gifted him with a -remarkable personal appearance, nor art with a satisfactory -substitute. However, a Statesman even of the first rank who has -occupied with distinction such important offices as First Lord of the -Admiralty and Secretary of State for India, has no reason to be -dissatisfied with himself. No doubt each reader of this article will -be able to add considerably to our gallery of "doubles," but we have -done enough if we have opened up an amusing and interesting train of -ideas.</p> - -<hr class="clear" /> -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page11" id="page11"></a>[pg 11]</span></p> - -<h2 class="m2"><span class="wsp">THE GOLDEN CIRCLET.</span><br /> - -<span class="less2">A COMPLETE STORY BY CHARLES KENNETT BURROW.</span></h2></div> - -<p class="centern1"><i>Illustrated by Ralph Peacock.</i></p> -<div class="figparts"> -<a href="images/018-600.png"><img src="images/018a-300.png" width="300" height="149" alt="" class="author" /></a> -<a href="images/018-600.png"><img src="images/018a-130.png" width="130" height="327" alt="" class="author1" /></a> -<p class="space-above5">"HE VENTURED TO GLANCE OUT."</p></div> - -<div class="whole"><a href="images/018-600.png"><img src="images/018-300.png" width="302" height="479" alt="HE VENTURED TO GLANCE OUT." /></a> -<p>"HE VENTURED TO GLANCE OUT."</p></div> - -<p class="mr7"><span class="dropcap">A</span>NNESLEY walked past the main entrance to the Century Theatre in the -curious condition of one who is able partly to regard himself from the -outside. The boards were placarded with the announcement of a new -play, to be produced that day week, "The Golden Circlet," by Conrad -Howe. Now Annesley and Conrad Howe were the same person; but it was -difficult to convince the former, who had worked so deadly hard and -failed so often, that the latter was now within sight of what might -prove a great success. Annesley saw people stop to look at the -announcement and read his other name, with a feeling that he was -almost guilty of a serious misdemeanour; he was taking them, as it -were, at a disadvantage; he was almost inclined to tap one elderly -gentleman on the shoulder and assure him that no harm was intended to -him or any one else.</p> - -<p>The secret of the authorship of "The Golden Circlet" had been well -kept. Only three people were in the know, and not one of these was a -woman. Annesley therefore felt safe. He had assumed the other name -because his own had brought him no luck; he imagined people shrugging -shoulders and wagging wise heads; he could hear the murmur,—"What! -Annesley still writing plays? If he hadn't wasted his time over that, -he might have had some money left. What a fool the man is!" Annesley -had therefore put down the pen and Conrad Howe had taken it up. -Moreover, Conrad Howe had actually written a play which seemed to have -in it the elements of popularity; hence newspaper paragraphs, -discussions as to identity, and finally the fixing of the first night -and the appearance of the posters.</p> - -<p>"The Golden Circlet" represented six months' grinding work. He had -practically shut himself away from the world. He had declined -invitations, paid no calls, risked everything on a last throw. When -the thing was finished it seemed like coming into fresh air again; he -remembered people whose names he had almost forgotten, and above all a -girl whom he had told himself it might be wiser to forget; and, while -his passionate working fit was on, he had almost succeeded, seeing her -only as a possibility at the beginning of success. It is wonderful -what hard work may do for a man, for a time. But when the pause comes -human nature must always have its backward glance, its old heart -searchings, its reviving pains.</p> - -<p>Annesley, then, stood watching the entrance to the Century Theatre, -and, as he stood there, suddenly his heart commenced a wild stampede. -He slipped into the doorway of a shop just in time to escape the eyes -of a girl who was walking quickly up the Strand. He waited for a -moment; she did not pass. After a time he ventured to glance out; she -had left the theatre, and was disappearing in the crowd.</p> - -<p>His first impulse was to overtake her and make a clean breast of -everything, but a moment's reflection convinced him that, having -restrained himself so far, it would be folly to make a doubtful step -then. Connie Bolitho had probably no idea that Conrad Howe was a cloak -for Herbert Annesley, and he saw an opportunity for a little comedy -not to be neglected. Since his position had grown stronger he felt -free to indulge his humours; a year before life had seemed all -tragedy, with a diminishing banking account, and a -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page12" id="page12"></a>[pg 12]</span> -sheaf of unpaid bills. He walked carelessly up to the box-office.</p> - -<p>"Did a lady take seats a moment ago; a lady with a red hat and -fur-trimmed cloak?"</p> - -<p>"Pretty?" asked the clerk.</p> - -<p>"Very pretty," said Annesley.</p> - -<p>"Yes,—two stalls."</p> - -<p>"Two!" said Annesley, with an inner question in the word. "Are the -next seats engaged—the ones, I mean, on either side of those two?"</p> - -<p>The man looked at the plan.</p> - -<p>"No," he said.</p> - -<p>"Book them to me, please."</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a href="images/019-1000.png"><img src="images/019-600.png" width="600" height="420" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"'YOU ARE FORGIVEN,' SHE SAID, SWEETLY."</p></div> - -<p>The clerk smiled benignly as he handed the tickets to Annesley; the -life in a box-office is dull during business hours.</p> - -<p>Annesley walked away with his tickets, feeling that he had done a good -morning's work. He had at any rate made sure of a seat near Miss -Bolitho; if her companion were a man he must brace himself to eclipse -that fortunate individual; if a woman, it did not matter. He would -prefer the woman, for in six months a great deal might have happened. -Miss Bolitho was not bound to him in any way; they had seemed to -understand each other, but a struggling writer with only debts to his -credit, had not dared to lay those debts and a doubtful future at his -lady's feet.</p> - -<p>During the next week Annesley's time was fully occupied, but when the -great day came and the final rehearsal was over he had a few hours in -which to feel that almost unendurable excitement which precedes an -ordeal the result of which is not in our own hands. His part of the -work was over, but would the actors rise to theirs? He believed they -would, but belief is a poor support when so much depends upon it. His -excitement was also doubled by the prospect of watching the effect of -his work on Miss Bolitho.</p> - -<p>Annesley reached the theatre five minutes before the curtain rose. The -house was full; the gallery seethed like a hive, people were already -standing at the back of the pit. A glance showed him that Miss Bolitho -was there, with a man whom he had never seen before at her side. He -made his way quickly to his seat and was there before she had observed -him.</p> - -<p>"You are as interested in plays as ever?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Annesley!" she cried. He was sure that the hand she gave him -trembled a little.</p> - -<p>"May I ask you to forgive me for the past six months? I've been -working terribly hard, almost night and day."</p> - -<p>"At a play?"</p> - -<p>"Yes,—at a play."</p> - -<p>"You are forgiven," she said sweetly, -"because you are brave and stick to your -ideals."</p> - -<p>"I am rewarded," he murmured. A -glance at her face assured him that her -beauty was not less; that, at any rate, had -remained unchanged.</p> - -<p>"Do you know who this Mr. Conrad -Howe is?"</p> - -<p>"No one seems to know; his identity -has been kept secret most successfully."</p> - -<p>"Do you suppose it is not his real -name?"</p> - -<p>"I have an idea it isn't; it sounds -assumed, doesn't it?"</p> - -<p>"I'm not sure. What do you think, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page13" id="page13"></a>[pg 13]</span> -Tom? Let me introduce you to Mr. Annesley,—my cousin, Captain -Bolitho, who is just home from India." They bowed severely to each -other.</p> - -<p>"We were discussing," said Connie, cheerfully, "whether Conrad Howe -was a real or a pen name. What do you think?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know anything about these writing Johnnies. I don't see why -they shouldn't use their own names unless they're ashamed of them."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps you don't quite understand, Tom," Miss Bolitho suggested.</p> - -<p>"Perhaps I don't!" said Tom.</p> - -<p>"The climate of India is so trying," Miss Bolitho whispered to -Annesley.</p> - -<p>"It must be," he said, smiling.</p> - -<p>The orchestra glided into a slow movement and the curtain rose. I need -not tell you the story of the play; it was simple, but intensely -human, having in it the philosophy learnt in years of struggle, but -always with hope and faith in the ultimate good beyond. It presented -no problem of the gutter raised to drawing-room standard by -meretricious gilding; it had the singular distinction of being -perfectly clean and also entirely dramatic. As Annesley saw his work -develop before his eyes, and felt how it was taking hold of a -breathless audience, he did not grudge the experience that had gone to -its making or regret that he had kept his ideals unsoiled. When the -curtain fell upon the first act the clamour of applause was the true -expression of genuine emotion aroused by legitimate means. Annesley -felt weak and almost sick. He realised vividly what it all meant to -him; he realised, above all, of what little value it would be if he -failed in the greater matter of his love. Connie leaned towards him; -she had tears in her eyes.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 450px;"><a href="images/020-900.png"><img src="images/020-450.png" width="450" height="481" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center"> "THE MANAGER WAS SIMMERING WITH JOY."</p></div> - -<p>"This is the kind of thing we've been waiting for," she said. "This is -quite true and human. Conrad Howe should be a happy man to-night."</p> - -<p>"If he is in the house."</p> - -<p>"I hope he is; there's sure to be a call." Annesley's heart thumped.</p> - -<p>"That must be awfully trying to a man," he said.</p> - -<p>"Why don't you write plays of this kind?"</p> - -<p>"It's rather the sort of thing I've been aiming at."</p> - -<p>"Go on aiming at it, then, and you'll succeed."</p> - -<p>"With your encouragement I feel I could do anything."</p> - -<p>"This isn't a bad play, is it?" asked Captain Bolitho.</p> - -<p>"It's splendid," said Connie.</p> - -<p>"The fellow knows something, too. There's not all that confounded -footle that leads you nowhere. The girl's ripping."</p> - -<p>"She is," said Annesley. As a matter of fact she was a careful study -of Miss Bolitho; for that reason Miss Bolitho appeared entirely -unconscious of it.</p> - -<p>"There are only three acts, too," said the Captain; "that's sensible. -Five acts, with long waits between, are killing. I call it taking your -money on false pretences. You don't come to a theatre to hear the band -play."</p> - -<p>When the curtain rose again the house instantly settled into silence, a sure -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page14" id="page14"></a>[pg 14]</span> -sign that things were going well. Connie leaned forward with something -of the eagerness of a child; even Captain Bolitho unhinged himself, as -it were, and indicated interest by a slightly curved back. Annesley -began to feel master of himself again; part of the future, at least, -was now safe; how much that means to a man who steps from poverty to -the security of a decent income can only be realised by those who have -been in a like case; the mere fact of being able to pay a debt with -promptitude is capable of affording a very exquisite joy. But, now -that so much was within his grasp, he longed for all; the horizon of -desire, like the horizon of the actual world, always recedes as we -advance; since a few months before he had travelled innumerable miles -towards success; that being reached, there was still an infinite -distance beyond.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 200px;"><a href="images/021-400.png"><img src="images/021-200.png" width="200" height="486" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">BEFORE THE CURTAIN.</p></div> - -<p>In the second act there was a simple love-scene that appeared to take -the audience by surprise; it was direct, touching, convincing. -Annesley noticed that no one laughed, a thing almost unprecedented in -a London theatre when sentiment attitudinises upon the boards. This -gave him a glow of well-earned triumph; he had mentally decided -beforehand that that was the crucial point of the play; when it was -passed he dropped back and closed his eyes.</p> - -<p>"You didn't see all that act," Connie said to him in the interval; -"are you tired,—were you asleep?"</p> - -<p>"I'm neither tired nor sleepy, I heard everything."</p> - -<p>"Didn't you think the love-scene beautiful?"</p> - -<p>"Yes," he said, blushing at his own candour.</p> - -<p>"I didn't think much of that," said Captain Bolitho, "I suppose -because I can't see myself saying pretty things to a girl. It's not in -my line, you know. I feel 'em, but can't express 'em. My notion is -that the girl should make love to me."</p> - -<p>"But you must begin, surely," Connie said.</p> - -<p>"That's just the deuce of it," said the Captain, "I can't."</p> - -<p>Annesley rose. "I must go now," he said, "to another part of the -house. When it's over will you remain here till I come? I've an idea -that I can find out who this Conrad Howe is. May I bring him to see -you if I'm right?"</p> - -<p>"Do, I'll wait for you." He went out into the Strand and lit a -cigarette. The aspect of the world had changed for him; he even saw -cabs and buses with different eyes. Every passenger upon the pavement -seemed a friend, the roar of traffic had new music in it,—the stars -above the housetops looked down with kindly eyes. The cool air put -fresh courage into him, soothed his pulse, made his hope seem real. -Inside the theatre it had been altogether difficult to understand -substantial facts; but out there in the hurry of the street it was -easy enough. There was no doubt about "The Golden Circlet," or Connie -Bolitho, or about himself; they all existed, they all were of the -world. The name of Conrad Howe stared at him from the placards; he -even touched the letters with his fingers to make quite sure. Ten -minutes later he re-entered the theatre by the stage door.</p> - -<p>He met the manager in the wings. That gentleman was simmering with -joy, his congratulations were overwhelming. Annesley bore them with -resignation.</p> - -<p>"There's sure to be a call for 'Author,'" said the manager; "you'll go -to the front, won't you? It's always better; pleases them, you know. -Do you feel nervous? Come to my room and have some champagne. This is -a howling success, Mr. Howe—nothing like it for years. Just -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page15" id="page15"></a>[pg 15]</span> -listen to that applause? You've fetched 'em, no doubt about it. Come -along and have that champagne." Annesley went readily enough; the -atmosphere of the theatre was getting on his nerves again.</p> - -<p>When the last curtain fell the pit and gallery got upon their feet and -cheered; the rest of the house was equally decisive if more discreet; -"The Golden Circlet" was a success. And in the midst of the hubbub -Annesley found himself before the curtain, bowing, dazzled by the -footlights and straining his eyes to see one face. And, as though in -obedience to his call, it rose before him, flushed, glowing, with eyes -from which the delight and astonishment had hardly died, and with lips -whose smile seemed tremulous with coming tears. That was the true -moment of his triumph.</p> - -<p>As soon as he could escape he found his way into the empty stalls; one -figure remained. As he approached Connie raised her head. The colour -had died out of her face; she was as pale as Annesley was himself. He -held out his hand.</p> - -<p>"I have brought Conrad Howe to see you," he said.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 300px;"><a href="images/022-600.png"><img src="images/022-300.png" width="300" height="492" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"'I WISHED TO WIN YOUR LOVE.'"</p></div> - -<p>"Why didn't you tell me before? It was cruel of you."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps it was because I thought that if I failed I could not bear -that you should know it."</p> - -<p>"That was not true friendship."</p> - -<p>"Did I ever profess friendship for you?"</p> - -<p>She hesitated, and played with her fan. A little wave of colour flowed -back into her cheeks.</p> - -<p>"You see," he went on, "I was pretty much alone in the world, and had -to make my mark in my own way. A few months ago things were very black -with me. I shut myself up and worked."</p> - -<p>"It must have been hard for you," she said, "to cut yourself off from -everything like that."</p> - -<p>"It was hard, I'm not going to pretend it wasn't. But I had hope—not -very bright, perhaps, but still it was enough to keep me from going -under."</p> - -<p>"You had faith in yourself and in your own work."</p> - -<p>"I had more than that. Can you guess what it was?" Their voices -sounded curiously hollow in the empty theatre,—the attendants were -already putting up and covering the seats.</p> - -<p>"You hoped to get fame and money?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, but more than either I wished to win your love. Don't kill my -illusion, don't ring down the curtain on my romance, Connie, and leave -me in the dark. Everything I did was for you. You inspired whatever -was good in 'The Golden Circlet.' The thought of you kept my head -above water. I can come to you now without feeling ashamed."</p> - -<p>"You might have come before. You need never have been ashamed. I could -have helped you, oh, so much!"</p> - -<p>"But now that the dark days are over, you won't turn your back on me -and say I don't need your help? I need it more -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page16" id="page16"></a>[pg 16]</span> -than ever. My love, the golden circlet is yours if you will take it -from me."</p> - -<p>She, gave him both her hands and lifted her face to his.</p> - -<p>"I am your's always," she said, "but I think, perhaps, I loved you -better when you were quite poor, but you never asked me then to love -you. Think of what you've lost!"</p> - -<p>Annesley took her in his arms in spite of a watchful attendant. "Never -mind," he said, "everything's in the future for both of us, never mind -the past. They may even damn my play now if they like."</p> - -<p>At this point Captain Bolitho's voice was heard in loud protest.</p> - -<p>"I tell you," he was saying, "I left a lady in your confounded -theatre, and she hasn't come out. I've had a cab waiting ten minutes."</p> - -<p>"It's Tom," Connie whispered, "I forgot all about him. Poor Tom!"</p> - -<p>"Miss Bolitho's quite safe," said Annesley, "we've just been settling -a little matter of great importance to both of us."</p> - -<p>Captain Bolitho peered into the face of each in the uncertain light -and seemed to understand.</p> - -<p>"The devil you have!" he murmured under his breath. Then he said -aloud, "Anyhow, Connie, I can't keep the cab waiting any longer. I -congratulate you, Mr. Annesley Howe, on your 'Golden Circlet.' That -was a deuced neat little surprise you'd hatched for us. I like your -play, and I daresay I shall like you when I know more of you. Dine -with me next Thursday, will you? Good-night."</p> -<!-- 3 --> -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a href="images/023-1000.png"><img src="images/023-600.png" width="600" height="356" alt="" /></a> -<h3 style="margin-top: -4em;">A MOTHER OF TWO.<br /> -<span class="rit2" style="margin-top: 2em;"><i>Photo by Landon, Ealing</i></span></h3></div> - -<hr class="clear" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page17" id="page17"></a>[pg 17]</span></p> - -<div class="center"><div class="content"> -<h2 class="boxed wsp">MODERN FAMILY SKELETONS.</h2></div></div> - -<p class="title1"><span class="sc">By Beatrice Knollys.</span></p> - -<p class="centern1"><i>Illustrated by A. S. Hartrick.</i></p></div> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 220px;"><a href="images/024-475.png"><img src="images/024-220.png" width="220" height="463" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">THIS DRUMMER APPEARS WHENEVER A MEMBER OF THE OGILVY -FAMILY IS GOING TO DIE.</p></div> - -<p><span class="dropcap">A</span> FAMILY ghost is a possession almost as respectable as a patent of -nobility, and happy is the house reputed, on satisfactory evidence, to -be haunted by one. There are still a few hereditary ghosts left, and a -few leasehold and freehold ghosts; but these last are often the -property of retired manufacturers and American millionaires who have -bought house and lands, pedigrees, portraits, and family ghosts all -together as they stood.</p> - -<p>In this article it is my intention to be the biographer of a few -ancient and well-born ghosts only, as space will not permit me to -condescend to mere one-generation ghosts, pedigreeless spirits.</p> - -<p>A. was an Airlie who killed a poor drummer, whose spirit plays a drum -at Cortachy Castle, Kirriemuir, Scotland, whenever any member of the -Ogilvy family is going to die. The origin of this tradition is that -the drummer, for some reason or other, in his lifetime so enraged a -former Lord Airlie that he had him thrust into his own drum and flung -from the window of a tower of Cortachy Castle, though the drummer -threatened to haunt the family ever after if his life were taken.</p> - -<p>He has seemingly kept his word, for in 1849, before the decease of a -Lord Airlie, and again in 1884, before the death of a Lady Airlie, the -beat of the drum was on each occasion distinctly heard by different -guests of the family. One of these guests was a lady staying in the -castle, who was so ignorant of the tradition that, having heard the -beating of a drum while dressing for dinner, she innocently asked her -host—Lord Airlie—at the table who his drummer was. The question made -the peer turn quite white, for the sound had preceded the loss of his -first wife, and it was only a few months after this ominous dinner -party that the second wife died.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 400px;"><a href="images/025-850.png"><img src="images/025-400.png" width="400" height="450" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">THE COMBERMERE GHOST—A YOUNG GIRL WHO APPEARS TO FORETELL DEATH.</p></div> - -<p>The Combermere family have two ghosts in their record. In Combermere -Abbey there is an old room, once a nursery, and here has been seen the -spirit-figure of a little girl fourteen years old, dressed in a very -quaint frock with an odd little ruff round its neck. It appeared to a -niece of the late Lord Cotton as she was dressing for a very late -dinner one evening in this former nursery, now used as a bedroom. She -had just risen from her toilet-glass to get some article of dress when -she saw the child standing near her bed—a little iron one which stood -out in the room away from the wall—and presently the figure began -running round the bed in a wild, distressed way, with a look of -suffering in its little face, which the lady could see quite plainly -as the full light of her candles fell upon it.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page18" id="page18"></a>[pg 18]</span></p> - -<p>On mentioning this apparition, her widowed aunt, Lady Cotton, called -to remembrance that the late Lord Cotton had told her of the sudden -death years ago of a favourite little sister of his, with whom he had -been playing, he being also a child then, by running round and round -the bed with her, just the night before—indeed, only a few hours -before, her decease.</p> - -<p>A stranger story still, and one that has not yet, I believe, appeared -in print, is that where quite recently a lady took an amateur -photograph of the drawing-room of a house once inhabited by the late -Lord Combermere—at Brighton I think it was. The lady in question saw, -to her horror and astonishment, visible on the plate, the ghost of the -old peer—a tall man with rather stout face and a -moustache—reproduced sitting in one of the easy chairs of this -drawing-room, though not apparent to the naked eye.</p> - -<p class="space-above3">The Drake ghost—the spirit of Sir Francis Drake—might be termed a -sporting spirit, as it has been frequently seen in different parts of -Devonshire and Cornwall—notably Plymouth—driving a hearse drawn by -headless horses and followed by a pack of headless hounds.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 350px; margin-top: 2em;"><a href="images/026b-730.png"><img src="images/026b-350.png" width="350" height="474" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center" style="clear: right;">ONE OF THE FYVIE CASTLE GHOSTS IS A TRUMPETER BY PROFESSION.</p></div> - -<p class="space-above3">Two Gordon ghosts live at Fyvie Castle in Scotland. One is a lady -dressed in a magnificent costume of green brocade, who is seen, candle -in hand, passing through a tapestried room of the old castle when any -important event is going to happen to the family.</p> - -<p>The other spirit is by profession a trumpeter, who tradition affirms -haunts the castle in revenge for having during his lifetime been -seized by the press-gang at the instigation of the then Gordon of -Fyvie Castle, who wished to get rid of a rival in the affections of a -pretty daughter of his factor or bailiff.</p> - -<p>The girl, however, remained faithful to the trumpeter, the separation -from him making her die of a broken heart; and now, like the drum of -Cortachy Castle, a trumpet is heard whenever misfortune is in store -for the unlucky Gordons. Ill-fated they certainly are, as beside being -the hereditary owners of unlucky ghosts, they are also under a -hereditary curse—the curse of a "Thomas the Rhymester"—who, when the -gates of the castle long years ago were churlishly closed against him -in the days of wandering minstrelsy, declared that the property should -never descend in a direct line till three "weeping" stones were found; -but up to twenty years ago, when a relative of the writer was staying -at the castle, only one weeping stone had been discovered.</p> - -<p>In Fyvie Castle there is also a sealed room, which is always kept -religiously closed; for the saying is, should the door be ever opened, -the master would die and his wife go blind. Faith and fear have -prevented the saying being proved, as the room has never been opened; -but as regards the curse of "Thomas the Rhymester," it is certainly a -fact that the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page19" id="page19"></a>[pg 19]</span> -Gordons have never inherited in a direct line.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 450px;"><a href="images/026a-1000.png"><img src="images/026a-450.png" width="450" height="428" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">ONE OF GLAMIS CASTLE'S GHOSTLY INHABITANTS—A TALL, BEARDED VISITANT IN ARMOUR.</p></div> - -<p class="space-above2">There is a perfect spirit vault of ghosts at Glamis Castle, the -ancestral residence of another old and celebrated Scotch family, the -Lyons, the head being the Earl of Strathmore. They also possess a -secret chamber, which is supposed to be connected with some terrible -mystery known only to each owner, the next heir, and the -house-bailiff, of the time being. Even the exact locality of the room -is never revealed to others than those three, and though more than one -heir-apparent has promised to tell the secret to his bosom friends as -soon as the attainment of his twenty-first year entitled him to learn -it; yet after he has known it, a solemn silence on the subject has -been maintained, and beyond the fact that a stonemason is supposed to -be secretly employed to close the approach to this chamber after each -visit, nothing more definite is known. The strangest part of it all is -the evident necessity that each successive house steward should be -made acquainted with this mystery, which looks as if to him was -intrusted the duty of providing food for some person or thing -imprisoned in those walls of fifteen feet thickness. Whether the -mystery is in any way connected with the apparition of a bearded man, -who flits about the castle at night, and hovers over the couches of -children, is not known; perhaps it has something to do with a figure -which appeared at a window to a guest staying at Glamis Castle, and -sitting up late one moonlight night. The owner of the pale face, lit -up with great sorrowful eyes, seemed to wish to attract attention, but -it was suddenly pulled away as if by some superior power. Presently, -horrible shrieks rent the night air, and an hour or so later, the -guest, gazing horror-stricken from the window of the room, saw a dark -huddled figure, like that of an old decrepit woman, carrying a bundle, -pass across the waning moonlight outside, and vanish.</p> - -<p>Perhaps the most interesting legend attached to this magnificent old -castle is the historical tradition that in one of its rooms Duncan was -murdered by Macbeth, "Thane -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page20" id="page20"></a>[pg 20]</span> -of Glamis," and this Duncan is perchance the tall bearded ghost in -armour who haunts the old square tower, and on one occasion nearly -frightened to death a child who, with its mother, was on a visit to -the castle. The child was asleep in a dressing-room off its mother's -bedroom. She herself was lying awake, when a cold blast extinguished -her light suddenly, but not the night-light in the dressing-room, from -whence, immediately after, proceeded a shriek. The mother rushed in -and found her child awake, and in an agony of fear, because the tall -mailed figure she herself had seen pass into the dressing-room had -come to the side of the cot and leant over the face of the child. As a -matter of fact, tradition and truth are so mixed up with all the -stories connected with this very ancient fortress-palace, that it is -difficult, in fact impossible, to know what to believe and what to -disbelieve.</p> - -<p>A more peaceable spirit is the Townshend ghost of Rainham, in Norfolk, -commonly known as the "Brown Lady." She is described as tall and -stately, dressed in a rich brown brocade, with a sort of coif on her -head. The features are clearly defined, but where the eyes should be -are nothing but hollows. She is seen walking about the old mansion -every now and then, though no reason can be discovered to account for -her restlessness. Lord Charles Townshend, on being asked by a lady if -he also believed in the apparition, replied, "I cannot but believe, -for she ushered me into my room last night."</p> - -<p>The Lonsdale spirit seems to have been as rowdy in death as it was -during life when it inhabited the body of Jemmy Lowther, well known as -the "bad Lord Lonsdale." For years after his decease the inhabitants -of Lowther Hall and the neighbourhood were kept in a constant state of -excitement by continual disturbances in the house, noises in the -stables, and the galloping across country of Lord Lonsdale's phantom -"coach and six."</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 350px;"><a href="images/027-800.png"><img src="images/027-350.png" width="350" height="430" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"WHILE SHE PRAYED THE SPIRIT APPEARED AND SAID, 'TAKE UP THE CANDLE AND FOLLOW ME.'"</p></div> - -<p>The Powys Castle ghost was a much more amiable spirit, and of quite a -superior character to the devil-may-care spirit of Jemmy Lowther. His -object was benevolent, and his manners were well-bred and gracious -when he appeared. His last visit was to a poor pious workwoman, who, -in the absence of the Herberts from Powys Castle, was purposely put by -the servants in the haunted bedroom, a handsomely furnished apartment -with a boarded floor, a big bedstead in one corner, and two sash -windows. A good fire was made up in the room, and a chair and a table -with a large lighted candle on it was placed in front of the fire. She -had just sat down in the chair to read her Bible, when to her -astonishment in walked a gentleman. He wore a gold-laced hat and -waistcoat, with coat and the rest of his attire to correspond. He went -over to one of the sash windows, and putting an elbow on the sill, rested his -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page21" id="page21"></a>[pg 21]</span> -face on the palm of his hand. She supposed afterwards that he stood -quietly thus to encourage her to speak, but she was too frightened. -Then he walked out of the room, and the poor woman, rising from her -chair, fell on her knees and began to pray. Whilst praying, the spirit -appeared again, walked round the room, and came close behind her. He -again departed, and again appeared behind her as she still knelt. She -said, "Pray, sir, who are you, and what do you want?"</p> - -<p>It lifted its finger and said—</p> - -<p>"Take up the candle and follow me, and I will tell you."</p> - -<p>She did as she was bid, and followed him into a very small room, -where, tearing up a board, he pointed to an iron box underneath, and -then to a crevice in the wall where lay hidden a key. These he -commanded were to be sent to the Earl of Powys, then in London. This -was done, though history does not relate what the box contained; but -it was known that this poor Welsh spinning woman was provided for -liberally by the Powys family till she died about the beginning of -this century.</p> - -<p>Though one does not associate ghosts with such a city of excitement, -life, and renovation as London, yet it does possess several haunted -houses. One belonging to a present-day peer, and situated in Park -Lane, is said to be haunted by fashionable spirits having a dance. -Some people can only hear the buzz of their voices and the swish of -dresses and the tap of feet, while others can see the figures -themselves talking and dancing.</p> - -<p>Yes, there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in -our philosophy.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a href="images/028-1000.png"><img src="images/028-600.png" width="600" height="383" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">LETTING THE FAMILY SKELETONS OUT OF THE CUPBOARD.</p></div> - - <hr class="clear" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page22" id="page22"></a>[pg 22]</span></p> - -<h2><span class="spaced2">A ROSE AT LAST</span><br /> - -<span class="smaller">BY</span><br /> - -<span class="less2">CLIFTON BINGHAM</span></h2></div> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 330px;"><a href="images/029-650.png"><img src="images/029-330.png" width="330" height="490" alt="(TN: The poem is bordered by artwork signed HAROLD NELSON '98)" /></a> -</div> - -<div class="container"> -<div class="poem width18 space-below"> <div class="stanza"> -<p><span class="dropcap1">I</span><span class="sp1"> T was only a rosetree slender</span></p> -<p class="i2">On a dingy window sill,</p> -<p>In the heart of the busy City,</p> -<p class="i2">With its mingled good and ill.</p> -<p>And the Angels must have seen it,</p> -<p class="i2">Unwilling to let it die,</p> -<p>For it thrived and bore a rose-bud</p> -<p class="i2">Under that darksome sky!</p> - </div><div class="stanza"> -<p><span class="dropcap1">A</span><span class="sp3">WHITE face watched it daily</span></p> -<p class="i2"> With joy in its childish eyes,</p> -<p>As she played alone in the garret</p> -<p class="i2">Under the city skies:</p> -<p>It brightened the dingy windows,</p> -<p class="i2">Each night as she crept to bed,</p> -<p>Though hungry and loveless and lonely,</p> -<p class="i2">"It will soon be a rose," she said.</p> - </div><div class="stanza"> -<p><span class="dropcap1">T</span><span class="sp2"> HERE at the window one morning,</span></p> -<p class="i2"> The bud was a rose so fair,</p> -<p>But the garret was still and silent,</p> -<p class="i2">There was no little white face there!</p> -<p>It was smiling in happy slumber,</p> -<p class="i2">Its pain and loneliness past,</p> -<p>For the Angels who loved her were saying,</p> -<p class="i2">That the bud was a rose at last!</p> - </div> </div></div> - - <hr class="clear" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page23" id="page23"></a>[pg 23]</span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a href="images/030a-1000.png"><img src="images/030a-600.png" width="600" height="158" alt="HOW SANDOW MADE ME STRONG" /></a> -<h2 class="m1">HOW SANDOW MADE ME STRONG<br /> - -<span class="less2">A REMARKABLE PHYSICAL TRANSFORMATION.</span></h2></div></div> - -<p><span class="dropcap">I</span>T was a question of going to South Africa or running the risk of a -short life in England; health dictated the question, and the answer -depended on many things. Someone suggested Sandow's School of Physical -Culture as a compromise; and finally England, backed up by financial -and other reasoning, carried the day.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"><a href="images/030b-1000.png"><img src="images/030b-500.png" width="500" height="374" alt="" /></a> -ON ENTERING SANDOW'S SCHOOL.<span style="padding-left: 5em;">TEN MONTHS AFTER.</span><br /> -<span style="float: right;">(<i>From Photographs.</i>)</span></div> - -<p>I was a puny youth, weak of spirit and frail of frame, when I first -visited Sandow's muscle factory in St. James's Street, London, and -said that I had come to be made into a strong and healthy -Englishman—to obtain a fresh lease of life if possible.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 500px;"><div class="captionrt"><span style="padding-left: 25em;">HEIGHT AND WEIGHT.</span></div> -<a href="images/031-770.png"><img src="images/031-500.png" width="500" height="756" alt="" /></a> -<div class="captionl">BEING SOUNDED.<span style="padding-left: 1em;">"THE LITTLE MACHINE TICKED MERRILY AWAY."</span></div></div> - -<p>Sandow fingered my arms and chest as he might a prize ox, and remarked -that I should make an admirable subject for his purpose; he liked -pulling folks out of their graves. Whereupon I imagined I should be -passed into the gymnasium to swing a dumb-bell for an hour or so, and -be invited to drop in again when I was next that way. But I was -mistaken. Had my object been to enlist in Her Majesty's forces, the -examinations and tests I was subjected to could not have been more -extensive or peculiar. I was sounded, measured, weighed, pounded and -questioned, the results being solemnly entered into a big ledger, as -though it might all be used as evidence against me should the need -ever arise. Weight 120 lbs., chest measurement 32 in., height 5 ft. -6½ in., though the latter is immaterial, as Sandow does not bargain -to make one grow in that direction when nature considers her duty -done.</p> - -<p>Though I felt ashamed of the figures myself, they did not seem to -affect my burly interrogators in any way, and the examination -proceeded. Had I indigestion, and did I smoke? I confessed to a little -of either weakness of the flesh. Was there any particular ailment in -the family, and would I take a full breath and blow down this tube? As -I did so, a little clock-like machine ticked merrily away, till it -registered that my pair of lungs—or "one and a decimal," as a blunt -old doctor had once informed me—could contain at full pressure 185 -cubic inches of air—a poor record, be it said.</p> - -<p>Next came dumb-bell and weight tests, careful note being made of the -exact number of pounds I could lift with one hand, two hands, hold at -arm's length, and support above my head. The record ran thus:—One -hand lift, 65 lbs.; at arm's length, 18 lbs.; raised from shoulders -(1) 40 lbs., (2) 35 lbs. each. Bar-bell raised above head, 85 lbs. So -the examination ended, and when my photograph had been taken as a sort -of example "before trying," I was free to join the little army of -health-and-muscle seekers whenever I chose.</p> - -<p>A very mixed army it was. Stern-visaged men were there going through -the exercises as seriously as if life itself depended on them; -sprightly veterans taking again to regular exercise, so much missed -since they joined the half-pays; middle-aged men making up for the -negligences of earlier days; clerks and students of all kinds going -into strict training in order to be in form for the cricket and running -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page24" id="page24"></a>[pg 24]</span> -season; and finally a goodly sprinkling of puny youths working hard to -attain the weight and chest measurement necessary to give them another -chance at Sandhurst or Woolwich, where they had just been declined -"for physical reasons."</p> - -<p>The display was not without its humour. A plump stockbroker is a -common and natural enough sight in the city, but he forms a different -spectacle as, minus the glossy hat and black coat of his calling, he -energetically whirls a pair of dumb-bells in the frantic endeavour to -exchange his superfluous avoirdupois for sinew and muscle, especially -when his immediate neighbour, a very lean littérateur, is performing -the same evolutions with the secret hope of putting on flesh.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 375px;"><a href="images/032a-750.png"><img src="images/032a-375.png" width="375" height="495" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">THE BAR-BELL TEST—SUPPORTING 85 LBS.</p></div> - -<p class="space-above3">It would require a keen eye, supported by a good imagination, to -discover any outward visible sign of the "strong man" about the -various instructors of Sandow's school, dressed as they are in -ordinary attire, to say nothing of fashionable collars and the latest -thing in neckties. Any one of them might have strolled in from Bond -Street, mistaking the place for the club, yet any one of them would -think nothing of snatching up a 100 lb. dumb-bell and raising it aloft -with the ease with which most people might perform a similar feat with -an umbrella.</p> - -<p>When I presented myself at the gymnasium for my first course of -instruction I was handed a pair of dumb-bells weighing not more than 3 -lbs. each. I protested that I had been in the habit of using bells -three times as heavy. It did not matter, I was informed,—lead pencils -would be almost as serviceable, providing I concentrated my whole -attention on each exercise in turn.</p> - -<p>It must not be supposed, however, that dumb-bells do not play an -important part in Sandow's system. On the contrary, as will be seen -from the photographs herewith, they figure in numerous exercises, but -their weight is practically immaterial. They usually vary according to -the physical condition of those using them.</p> - -<p>Having grasped his "three-pounders," the student is made to stand in -an attitude of ease, the inner side of his arms fronting outwards. His -very first step on the road to muscular development is to alternately -bend each arm at the elbow, bringing the dumb-bell close to the -shoulder. This has to be repeated some twenty or thirty times, to the -measured "One, two, three," of the instructor.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 230px;"><a href="images/032b-460.png"><img src="images/032b-230.png" width="230" height="500" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">LIFTING 70 LBS. WITH TWO HANDS.</p></div> - -<p>The same thing is then gone through with the arms turned the other -way, so that the knuckles instead of the finger-tips are brought up to the shoulders. Next the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page25" id="page25"></a>[pg 25]</span> -arms are extended outwards in a straight line, each being bent in turn -at the elbow, and the dumb-bell brought immediately above the -shoulder. And here comes the student's first difficulty; for in -extending the arms each time it is necessary to keep them straight and -rigid in order that the muscles may be benefited by the strain. It is -amusing to watch various pairs of arms gradually drooping as this -exercise proceeds.</p> - -<p>Altogether the dumb-bells are used in about twenty different -positions, each affecting a different set of muscles. There is the -lunge, for instance, exercising both arms and legs. First standing at -ease, the pupil takes a stride forward and strikes out alternately -with his left and right, as though an adversary awaited the blow. Some -twenty-five or thirty such lunges, however, are calculated to -transform the most bellicose among Sandow's disciples into members of -the Peace Society.</p> - -<p>The wrists are strengthened in this fashion: once more extending the -arms in a line with the shoulders the pupil now holds the dumb-bells -by the ends, instead of in the usual way, and with a circular motion -of the wrists revolves the bells first from right to left, then from -left to right.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 300px;"><a href="images/032c-640.png"><img src="images/032c-300.png" width="300" height="469" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">RAISING 40 LBS. WITH ONE HAND.</p></div> - -<p class="space-above3">Next comes what the flippant call the "see-saw" motion. With the -inevitable dumb-bell in each hand the student stands erect; the -see-saw consists of nothing more remarkable than bending the upper -portion of the body from side to side, without moving the lower limbs. -These are cared for in the next exercise. Lying at full length on the -ground, the pupil actually proceeds to kick his legs in the air! Not -particularly graceful, perhaps, but highly beneficial, it is claimed, -to the "hinges" at the knees and hips. What this motion does for the -lower limbs, the next does for the upper part of the body. Lying at -full length on the ground as before, and keeping the legs perfectly -stiff, the student raises his head and shoulders from the ground, and -with a quick movement swings forward until his body is bent almost -double, then returning slowly to the former position. The dumb-bells -are now forsaken for a time. The lesson to be learned is to support -the body on the hands and toes, and to alternately lower and raise it -by respectively bending the elbows and straightening the arms, taking -care not to touch the ground with any part of the body. It looks and -sounds easy enough; so it is, to do it once, but quite another thing -to keep it up in quick succession until the instructor sees fit to cry -"halt!" which is timed, it seems to the student, specially to remind -him of the penultimate straw and the camel's back.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 300px;"><a href="images/033b-600.png"><img src="images/033b-300.png" width="300" height="489" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">THE LUNGE.</p></div> - -<p>Dumb-bells are now resumed, this -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page26" id="page26"></a>[pg 26]</span> -time attached to stout elastic strands, these in turn being fixed to -the wall. Exercises of much the same kind as before are gone through, -except that the strain on the muscles is now greater, seeing that -almost every movement involves stretching the rubber bands to their -fullest extent, and allowing them to return to their natural state -slowly, not with a snap. The same principle is applied to the -development of the legs and neck, ingenious devices in the shape of -"harness"—forming an interesting branch of the system—being -requisitioned for the purpose. In each case the elastics have to be -stretched as much as possible, the strain being in turn centred on -sets of muscles that could be reached by no other method.</p> - -<p>If after having gone through all these exercises the pupil should pine -to develop his knowledge of Physiology as well as his frame, he may -learn that this little action affects the latissimus dorsi, that that -tiny movement seeks out the neglected deltoid, that another bend of -the body, insignificant though it may seem, means much to the -pectoralis major, and so forth. But the gentle student usually prefers -not to burden his brain with these things, and in this respect he is -perhaps not unlike the gentle reader. So no more shall be inflicted.</p> - -<p>Every pupil has to attend Sandow's School at least twice a week, and -when there to repeat each of the exercises named some twenty times, -though this number is a kind of moveable feast, advancing or -decreasing with his condition, reaching as high as sixty and as low as -ten. Beyond that he is supposed to practise every day at home, and -regularity in this greatly facilitates the development, just as -home-lessons assist a schoolboy's education. There, probably, the -simile ends; certainly the majority of Sandow's followers do -conscientiously work out of school hours.</p> - -<p>When students have been got into trim generally—this takes about a -month—they are allowed to add weight-lifting, with and without -"harness," to their regular exercises. To do so before the body was in -a supple condition might result in serious strains occasionally. A -still further stage is practice on the Roman pillar. This consists of -hanging backwards suspended from the knees, and from that rising to an -upright position, lifting with the body a bar-bell weighing anything -between 30 lbs. and 120 lbs.</p> - -<p>Every few months examinations are held, the same tests and -measurements as on entering being gone through, and the results put -down side by side in the ledger, so that one's weak points can be seen -at a glance and receive particular attention forthwith.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 200px; clear: both;"><a href="images/033a-420.png"><img src="images/033a-200.png" width="200" height="468" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">THE FIRST STEP.</p></div> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 250px; clear: both;"><a href="images/033c-530.png"><img src="images/033c-250.png" width="250" height="469" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"WHAT THE FLIPPANT CALL THE 'SEE-SAW' MOTION."</p></div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px; clear: both;"><a href="images/033d-1000.png"><img src="images/033d-500.png" width="500" height="230" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"NOT PARTICULARLY GRACEFUL, BUT HIGHLY BENEFICIAL."</p></div> - -<p class="space-above3">Personally, I had not been in the school a few weeks before I began to -feel its benefits. The first signs were the arrival of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page27" id="page27"></a>[pg 27]</span> -an appetite and the disappearance of indigestion and insomnia. -Gradually I exchanged loose flesh for firm muscle; my weight -increased; my chest measurement advanced. My weight-lifting crept up -by "fives" and "tens," till at the end of three months I could raise -70 lbs. with one hand, 350 lbs. with two, and 500 lbs. in "harness," -all with comparative ease.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 500px;"><a href="images/034a-1000.png"><img src="images/034a-500.png" width="500" height="261" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"UNTIL HIS BODY IS BENT ALMOST DOUBLE."</p></div> - -<p class="space-above3">Every time I blew into the little lung-testing machine I felt -apprehensive of its breaking or getting out of order under the strain. -My course of instruction commenced ten months ago; at the last -examination, held recently, my record ran:—One hand lift 130 lbs. (an -increase of 65 lbs.). Held at arm's length 35 lbs. (increase 17 lbs.). -Raised from shoulders, one hand, 90 lbs. (increase 50 lbs.), both -hands, 160 lbs. (increase 90 lbs.). Raised above head 175 lbs. -(increase 90 lbs.). Weight, 10 st. 0 lb. (increase 1 st. 6 lb.); chest -measurement, 36 inches (increase 4 inches). Lift with "harness" 800 -lbs.; without 550 lbs. Perhaps it should be added that this result was -not achieved by irregular attendance at the school or occasional -practice at home. I worked diligently every day on rising in the -morning, and before retiring at night, and I fancy I have no need to -go to South Africa now.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px; clear: both;"><a href="images/034b-880.png"><img src="images/034b-400.png" width="400" height="455" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">FOR THE WRISTS.</p></div> - -<p>A little about the St. James's School itself. Incredible though it may -seem, it is not a limited company. Every one connected with the place, -from the manager downwards, has to go through the system. That is why -the door is opened to you by a young Hercules whose clothes are -bursting over him, and who, rumour says, is afraid to take them off o' -nights lest he should never be able to get into them again; that is -why, if you call early or late enough, you will see a muscular -charwoman scrubbing the front steps to the quick time of "Sandow's -March," for even she is not exempt. There is, by the way, a special -course of training for lady pupils.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"><a href="images/034c-1000.png"><img src="images/034c-500.png" width="500" height="225" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">NOT SO EASY—</p></div> - -<p>Every one connected with the place participates in the profits, which -must be large, from the head-manager down to the two humbler -individuals just mentioned. That, doubtless, is why the door is always -opened to you with commendable alacrity, and may account for the fact -that the front steps are the whitest in St. James's Street, and that -the brasswork about the establishment positively dazzles the eyes with -its gleam.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"><a href="images/034d-1000.png"><img src="images/034d-500.png" width="500" height="152" alt="." /></a> -<p class="center">—AS IT LOOKS.</p></div> - -<p class="space-above2">Of course Sandow has his "secret." It -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page28" id="page28"></a>[pg 28]</span> -is that he does not believe in developing one part of the body at the -expense of another. His aim is not to turn out pupils with runners' -legs or rowers' arms, but of good physique generally. If a runner -enters the school his legs are naturally better developed than the -average. They will, therefore, require less attention than usual, and -more will be given to other parts of his body. And so forth.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 370px;"><a href="images/035-745.png"><img src="images/035-370.png" width="370" height="491" alt="" /></a> -<div class="captionle">IT IS THE CONSTANT_STRAIN THAT_DEVELOPS THE MUSCLES.</div></div> - -<p>The exercises are so devised that no set of muscles in the body is -overlooked. In the ordinary course they are all developed together, at -much the same rate; but this, of course, cannot always be adhered to. -It frequently happens that a pupil desires chest expansion above all -else, in which case he will devote himself primarily to the exercises -specially framed to bring about that result. In several cases a couple -of inches in the way of chest measurement has stood between pupils at -Sandow's and commissions in Her Majesty's army.</p> - -<p>Much depends, Sandow avers, on mind concentration.</p> - -<p>"It is of little use," he says, "going through the exercises -mechanically. As each one is performed, it should occupy the whole -attention. Merely swinging a dumb-bell the regulation number of times -will do no good. It should be regarded as serious work, and one's -heart should be in it. It has not been my aim to produce what are -known as strong men; it is a comparatively easy task to pick out a few -men exceptionally endowed by nature, and train them until they attain -great proficiency in particular feats of strength and activity. It may -be considered somewhat ambitious, but my honest desire is nothing less -than to permanently raise the standard of physique in the whole race, -and to restore, as far as possible, the old types of physical strength -and beauty, for the loss of which civilization is so largely -responsible."</p> - -<p>One naturally asks: What is the age limit at which physical -development necessarily ceases? Perhaps Sandow's school-register best -answers the question. His pupils range from fourteen to seventy-three. -The gentleman of the latter age felt so rejuvenated after one week's -attendance that he promptly put himself down for a whole year's -course, and has since declared his intention of "never leaving school" -until old age compels him.</p> - -<p class="space-above2">It is interesting to recall how Sandow first came before the public as -an exponent of strength. Some nine years ago it was -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page29" id="page29"></a>[pg 29]</span> -the practice of a "strong man" then performing at a London theatre of -varieties to issue nightly from the stage a challenge to the world -generally to accomplish any of his feats, which included the lifting -of great weights, the snapping of steel chains, and the bending of -iron bars. One night, to everyone's surprise, the challenge was -accepted by a member of the audience, and a young man stepped upon the -stage in immaculate evening dress. When this was removed the customary -attire of the stage "strong man" was revealed. It was Sandow, then -unknown.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 400px;"><a href="images/036a-860.png"><img src="images/036a-400.png" width="400" height="464" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">LIFTING 350 LBS. WITHOUT HARNESS.</p></div> - -<p>Amid the wildest excitement he performed every one of the wonderful -feats. The next day a new "strong man" had dawned.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 320px;"><a href="images/036b-650.png"><img src="images/036b-320.png" width="320" height="475" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">LIFTING 500 LBS. WITH HARNESS.</p></div> - -<p>It is Sandow's ambition to start schools of muscular development in -all the principal cities and towns in the kingdom, and if they become -as popular as those in London, there is hope for the country, -physically, yet. The tendency of the Englishman, since he acquired the -habit of living in towns, has been to take too little exercise. Roast -beef and Sandow may do more for the race than the former ever -accomplished alone.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 250px; clear: both;"><a href="images/036c-520.png"><img src="images/036c-250.png" width="250" height="481" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">WEIGHT-LIFTING ON THE ROMAN PILLAR.</p></div> - -<p class="author">A. E. J.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 300px; clear: both;"><a href="images/036d-750.png"><img src="images/036d-300.png" width="300" height="202" alt="Dumb-bells" /></a></div> - -<hr class="clear" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page30" id="page30"></a>[pg 30]</span></p> - -<h2><span class="spaced4 more2">THE STONE RIDER!</span><br /><br class="b30" /> - -<span class=" less2">A SHORT STORY OF THE WEIRD.<br /><br class="b30" /> - -<span class="sc">By Nellie K. Blissett; Illustrated by Max Cowper</span>.</span></h2></div> - -<p><span class="dropcap">I</span>T was a dull day in early spring, and the wind in the pine forest -behind the Castle of Salitz was making a melancholy moaning. In one of -the deep window-seats of the castle I sat, with a book in my hand, -looking down at the drowned landscape and the swollen river. I had -come to visit that mysterious personage, Count Siebach von Salitz, -whose extraordinary powers of thought-reading and prophecy would have -brought him in several fortunes had he chosen to use them -professionally. As it was, he was the object of much interest, and not -a little awe, in half the capitals of Europe; and it was with some -curiosity that I accepted his invitation to his Hungarian estate.</p> - -<p>So far nothing in the least peculiar had occurred to me—a -disappointment I was rather inclined to resent.</p> - -<p>Siebach's step disturbed my meditations. I turned and saw him coming -down the passage—a tall, gaunt man, with a haggard face and evil -eyes. But if Siebach's personal appearance was not prepossessing, his -charm of manner was so great that when you knew him well you forgot -the small, cruel eyes, the sneering mouth, the curious mixture of -power and cunning which characterized his countenance. His voice, too, -was singularly beautiful, and atoned for many things.</p> - -<p>He smiled as he came up and seated himself beside me.</p> - -<p>"If you admire the view, you shouldn't look so solemn, Bazarac," he -said; "and if you don't, and are bored, shall we go for a ride? Or -will you come and look at my study?—you haven't seen it yet, and it -is worth seeing."</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 250px;"><a href="images/037-545.png"><img src="images/037-250.png" width="250" height="459" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"HAGGARD FACE AND EVIL EYES."</p></div> - -<p>"Everything here is," I answered, as I rose and followed him -downstairs.</p> - -<p>He laughed.</p> - -<p>"That is the disadvantage of being born a Siebach of Salitz—there is -no merit in possessing perfection. It is merely inherited property. -Don't knock your head against this doorway—it is low. That's right!"</p> - -<p>We had passed under a low archway into a long room panelled with black -oak. There was a table, littered with papers, near the window, and -over the hearth hung the portrait of a young man whose countenance, -particularly about the mouth, distinctly resembled that of Siebach.</p> - -<p>"How like you that portrait is!" I exclaimed.</p> - -<p>He looked at it for a moment as though weighing my remark carefully in -his mind.</p> - -<p>"Do you think so?" he said at last. "It is my poor cousin Franz."</p> - -<p>"I didn't know you had one."</p> - -<p>"He is dead. He was drowned whilst we were bathing in the river -beneath. I was with him at the time, but I could not save him. His -body was never recovered—it was an awful affair. He was only seven -and twenty."</p> - -<p>"Younger than you?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, no—older. He was the heir. Poor Franz!"</p> - -<p>I looked at the portrait with increased interest, and Siebach gazed at -it too. There was a disagreeable expression on his face.</p> - -<p>"It is a fine portrait," I said.</p> - -<p>"Very—an Auberthal. You know Auberthal, of course? A splendid -painter. Singular, now, I forgot that he will arrive here to-day. He -has a long-standing engagement to visit me."</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page31" id="page31"></a>[pg 31]</span></p> - -<p>I was very glad to hear it, for I had known Auberthal when he was a -mere boy, studying in Garcia's "Atelier Espagnol." We had seen a great -deal of each other, and I had liked him exceedingly. Although Siebach -was very entertaining, I did not altogether <i>trust</i> him; a solitude -only relieved by his presence did not at the moment appear alluring.</p> - -<p>I expressed my pleasure, and began to walk about the study, admiring -the family portraits, of which there were a great number. Under one of -them I noticed a curtain drawn across the wall, and, supposing it to -conceal a picture or a cabinet, I very innocently put out my hand as -if to draw it on one side.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 360px;"><a href="images/038-700.png"><img src="images/038-360.png" width="360" height="461" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"TALKING TOGETHER IN THE FOREST."</p></div> - -<p>A sharp exclamation from Siebach stopped me. I dropped the curtain and -turned to him.</p> - -<p>"What is the matter?"</p> - -<p>He recovered his self-possession immediately.</p> - -<p>"Nothing. I was cutting a pencil and the knife slipped. Oh, it is only -a scratch!"</p> - -<p>"What is behind this curtain?" I asked, returning to my former -occupation.</p> - -<p>He did not answer at once. Then he laughed, a trifle uneasily.</p> - -<p>"A family superstition—nonsense if you like. You can look."</p> - -<p>I drew it accordingly. The curtain covered a large recess, and in this -recess stood the life-sized statue of a horse in white marble, bearing -a man in armour upon his back. The singular part about this equestrian -group was, that whilst the horse was stone, the trappings and the -man's armour were real.</p> - -<p>"That is an odd idea," I remarked.</p> - -<p>"What, the armour? Oh, it belonged to an ancestor of mine. Of course -there is a stone figure underneath to match the horse."</p> - -<p>"The vizor of his helmet is down. Why don't you raise it? It would be -far more effective."</p> - -<p>He laughed again more uneasily than ever.</p> - -<p>"My dear Bazarac, 'let sleeping men lie' is an excellent transposition -of the old proverb. This gentleman is supposed to 'walk'—or rather -ride. In other words, he is the family apparition. He is supposed to -ride about the castle at night."</p> - -<p>"What a very unpleasant idea!"</p> - -<p>"Do you think so? Well, it is sufficiently ghastly, I admit."</p> - -<p>"Have you ever seen him?"</p> - -<p>"No, but I have often fancied I heard a horse snorting and trampling -about the passages. At this time of year he is often heard. The -servants tell odd stories about him, but I have never encountered him -myself."</p> - -<p>"It would be an interesting encounter."</p> - -<p>Siebach shuddered visibly.</p> - -<p>"I think not," he said, in an altered tone.</p> - -<p>I looked up at him. His face was very pale, and his shifty glance -avoided mine.</p> - -<p>"You are afraid of him," I said, laughing.</p> - -<p>An odd light blazed for a second in his eyes. He had a pair of gloves -in his hand, having just come in from a walk. Suddenly, without any -warning, he flung one glove full at the mailed face of the Stone -Rider. The armour rattled, and the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page32" id="page32"></a>[pg 32]</span> -glove fell back at Siebach's feet. He picked it up and looked me in -the face.</p> - -<p>"You see whether I am afraid," he said, haughtily.</p> - -<p>I did not understand his manner, but I saw that it would be better to -change the subject at once, and avoid it for the future. So I asked -him at what time Auberthal would arrive, and we talked of other -things.</p> - -<p>Auberthal came in time for dinner—a little round man with a face all -brown skin and black beard, and extraordinarily bright eyes. I should -never have recognized in him the slip of a boy whose genius had -electrified the "Atelier Espagnol," but he was as pleasant as ever. We -passed a very enjoyable evening, and retired in due course to bed.</p> - -<p>From the moment I had dropped the curtain across the recess in the -study, I had never given another thought to the Stone Rider. -Auberthal's arrival had successfully banished reflection on that -somewhat peculiar incident. I undressed, and got into bed, and, as I -was not sleepy, began to read. I suppose this was at about half-past -eleven, and I went on reading steadily for over half an hour, at the -end of which period I laid down my book and prepared to blow out my -candles, when a sound arrested my attention, and I paused to listen. -The castle had long been silent, and everyone had retired to rest. Yet -there was a distinct sound as of someone moving about the corridors -under me.</p> - -<p>My room was in the second story of the building, at the head of the -grand staircase—an immensely broad and imposing affair of beautifully -inlaid marble. The corridors, too, were all marble paved, so that the -slightest sound was noticeable in them. I listened, and distinctly -heard the noise, whatever its cause, approach the foot of the -staircase. Then it paused for a moment, and there followed a curious -sound of scrambling, as of a large and somewhat unwieldy object coming -up the stairs.</p> - -<p>By this time my curiosity was thoroughly excited. I got out of bed and -went to the door. As the room was very long, and the door at the -farther end of it, this was a decidedly better post for listening -purposes. I had not been there a second before I heard the -unmistakable rattle of armour, and the snuffling sound a horse would -make after any unusual exertion. A wild idea flashed across my mind, -and I pressed closer to the door.</p> - -<p>This was the Stone Rider!</p> - -<p>The sounds came nearer and nearer until they were just outside. Then -came another pause, and a heavy sigh—almost a groan—but whether from -horse, or rider, I could not decide. Then the horse was turned round, -and clattered and rattled down the shallow steps of the staircase, and -away down the corridors, until all was silent once more.</p> - -<p>All this time, though greatly excited, I had not felt the slightest -sensation of fear; but now that all was still such a feeling of terror -came over me that I lay awake for hours scarcely able to breathe, -listening for the return of this midnight visitant. But he did not -come, and towards morning I fell asleep.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 220px;"><a href="images/039-450.png"><img src="images/039-220.png" width="220" height="457" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"IT IS GOING DOWN THE CORRIDOR TOWARDS THE STUDY."</p></div> - -<p>At breakfast I observed that Auberthal, who had been very lively the -previous evening, seemed silent and depressed. Siebach, too, looked -rather yellower and thinner than usual. I enquired if they had not -slept well.</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes," answered Siebach, hastily, "I have slept very well indeed, -thank you."</p> - -<p>Auberthal said nothing for a moment.</p> - -<p>"You don't look particularly brilliant yourself, Bazarac," he remarked -presently.</p> - -<p>"Somebody was racketing about the -staircase last night and disturbed me," I -replied carelessly. "Didn't you hear it, -Auberthal? Your room is next mine. I -wondered whether the noise would keep -you awake."</p> - -<p>Siebach looked up at me sharply and seemed about to speak. But he -thought better of it, and returned to his breakfast.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page33" id="page33"></a>[pg 33]</span></p> - -<p>"Yes," said Auberthal, quietly. "Something certainly kept me awake. -That family ghost of yours, Siebach, I expect—the Stone Rider."</p> - -<p>"I heard nothing," returned the Count, stolidly.</p> - -<p>But Auberthal was not to be silenced.</p> - -<p>"No? That is odd. I heard him distinctly. He stopped outside my door; -and something groaned. It gave me a peculiar sensation. What makes him -walk, Siebach—I suppose there's a legend?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, there are lots of legends," answered Siebach, offhandedly. "One -says that the Ritter von Salitz in the thirteenth century caused a -statue of himself, on his favourite charger, to be set up in the -courtyard of the castle, and when he took prisoners of war, he chained -them to the Stone Rider and flogged them to death. When he was about -sixty he married for the second time. His wife was very young and very -beautiful, and had been betrothed to his eldest son, whom he hated, -and banished from the castle. One day he found his son and his wife -talking together in the forest. He seized them, had them lashed to the -statue, and directed his men to flog them to death, whilst he himself -stood by and derided them. However, that was the last atrocity he -perpetrated, for he soon after went mad, and died. And his spirit is -doomed to ride the stone horse for ever."</p> - -<p>"A sufficiently horrible story, at any rate," remarked Auberthal, -composedly. "Is the horse in your study the original of the -courtyard."</p> - -<p>"Yes. It has been most carefully preserved, and handed down from -generation to generation."</p> - -<p>"No wonder it roams about the castle at night," I said.</p> - -<p>"That is mere nonsense," returned Siebach, irritably.</p> - -<p>I said nothing more; but after breakfast I found an opportunity of -speaking to Auberthal alone.</p> - -<p>"I should like to investigate this matter," I said. "Will you help me, -Auberthal?"</p> - -<p>He laughed.</p> - -<p>"Certainly; but I don't believe in ghosts, you know, Bazarac. I trust -you don't?"</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 330px;"><a href="images/040-700.png"><img src="images/040-330.png" width="330" height="467" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"FOR A FEW MOMENTS THE RIDER REMAINED MOTIONLESS."</p></div> - -<p>"I have seen some very strange things in connection with ghosts; at -all events, will you keep up to-night, and follow the Stone Rider with -me?"</p> - -<p>"If it will afford you any amusement."</p> - -<p>"Don't speak to Siebach about it, then. He evidently does not care for -the subject," and I related to him the incident of the glove.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page34" id="page34"></a>[pg 34]</span></p> - -<p>He looked rather grave.</p> - -<p>"I am sorry to hear it," he said, when I had finished. "There is -insanity in his family, you know—I don't think his brain is what it -was. And once he went off his head altogether."</p> - -<p>"When?"</p> - -<p>"Soon after his cousin was drowned. He saw it happen. That was enough -to drive anyone mad, perhaps. But he was always queer."</p> - -<p>"Then, to-night—?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. When he gets to the bottom of the staircase again we will follow -him."</p> - -<p>The day passed off very quietly, and nothing more was said about the -statue. We went to our rooms at the usual time, and I sat down to -wait. At a few minutes past twelve I heard the noise beginning. It -came up the staircase as it had done before, and paused for a moment -outside the door. Then I again heard the sigh, or groan, and the -clattering down the stairs. I opened my door and found Auberthal -already on the landing.</p> - -<p>"Make haste," he said. "It is going down the corridor towards the -study."</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 380px;"><a href="images/041-800.png"><img src="images/041-380.png" width="380" height="463" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"HE GRIPPED MY ARM."</p></div> - -<p>We rushed down, and along the passage, the rattling going in front of -us. But we were too slow. When we reached the study, the green baize -curtain was drawn, and everything was perfectly still. After a -moment's hesitation I pushed back the curtain. There sat the Stone -Rider, immovable as ever, mailed and erect.</p> - -<p>"He looks quite harmless," I said, doubtfully.</p> - -<p>Auberthal bent down and held the candle closer. On the side of the -horse were great dark stains, and the armour glimmered redly in the -flame. The painter put his hand on one big patch, and drew back -quickly.</p> - -<p>"I could swear it was wet," he whispered. "Let us go!"</p> - -<p>We returned, and I drew him into my room.</p> - -<p>"It's very odd!"</p> - -<p>"Very!" He held up his hand. "Do you see?"</p> - -<p>"Good Heavens!" I gasped, "it's all red!"</p> - -<p>"With blood," he said, solemnly.</p> - -<p class="center">*<span style="padding-left: 2em;">*</span><span style="padding-left: 2em;">*</span><span style="padding-left: 2em;">*</span><span style="padding-left: 2em;">*</span></p> - -<p>For some days neither Auberthal nor I spoke of our adventure with the -Stone Rider. But at last, one evening before dinner he came to me in -my room.</p> - -<p>"I shall go down into the study to-night," he said, "and see what -really happens. Will you come too?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. The noise at night still goes on?"</p> - -<p>"Regularly every night. Bazarac, I mean to get to the bottom of this -mystery."</p> - -<p>"All right. I shall be charmed if you can prove the whole thing a -hoax, but—"</p> - -<p>"But what?"</p> - -<p>"I don't think you will."</p> - -<p>He considered for a moment.</p> - -<p>"I don't think I shall either," he said, as he left me.</p> - -<p>Siebach was unusually brilliant and amusing at dinner. He kept us at -table long after our usual hour, and when we at last got away to our -rooms there was barely time to let the castle become quiet, and get -back to the study, before twelve o'clock. However, we accomplished the -feat, seated ourselves near together, blew out the candle, and waited -for the ghost to move.</p> - -<p>For some time everything was silent. Then, all at once, the room -became strangely illuminated. One after another the chairs, and -tables, and pictures grew out of the gloom, lit up with a pale, -peculiar light. And at last the curtain was drawn aside—the horse -shook himself, and snorted—the armour rattled—and the Stone Rider -rode slowly out into the middle of the room.</p> - -<p>The supernatural radiance streamed from him—it issued from the closed -bars of his helmet, from the steel breastplate, from the joints of the -rusted gorget. It seemed to grow brighter every moment, till, almost -dazzled, I turned my attention to the horse.</p> - -<p>I did not at first notice the stain on his -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page35" id="page35"></a>[pg 35]</span> -side which Auberthal had observed. But as I looked at him, I saw that -a dark stream began to trickle down the whiteness of the marble. It -dripped from a great dent in the breastplate of the Rider—dripped -slowly and steadily over the horse's neck, and rolled down to the -floor.</p> - -<p>For a few moments the rider remained motionless; then struck his spurs -into the marble flanks of his steed, and they moved away. The light -went with them through the open door, and Auberthal sprang up and -rushed after them.</p> - -<p>I saw the Stone Rider turn in his saddle and look back as we raced -after him; and a flash of flame seemed to shoot out from between the -helmet-bars. On they went—clattering, clashing, rattling through the -stone passages, and we after them. They reached the staircase—the -Rider rose in his stirrups and urged the horse up. The pace was too -fast—the horse slipped, plunged—and finally recovered himself, just -as an ordinary horse might do, and halted.</p> - -<p>But the Rider's balance was destroyed. He swayed in the high -saddle—his arms went wildly into the air—and he crashed forward, and -fell, with a horrible rattling sound, at our feet. The clasps that -fastened the gorget and breastplate burst—the helmet rolled away—and -on the pavement before us lay a skeleton!</p> - -<p>For a time we were too stunned to speak. Then Auberthal uttered an -exclamation of horror and looked up.</p> - -<p>Half way up the staircase stood Siebach von Salitz. His face was -ghastly white—his eyes were widened with an expression of awful -terror—his hands were stretched out as though grasping the air. He -stood motionless for some moments, staring into vacancy; then his -rigid expression relaxed, his arms dropped to his sides, and he came -down the stairs.</p> - -<p>"What has happened?" he enquired.</p> - -<p>"That!" said Auberthal, bluntly, pointing to the skeleton.</p> - -<p>Siebach bent over it for a moment. Then he kicked it contemptuously -aside.</p> - -<p>"Somebody has been playing a practical joke," he remarked.</p> - -<p>Auberthal coughed.</p> - -<p>"I have not, nor has Bazarac. Who could have done it?"</p> - -<p>"Do you suppose I have?"</p> - -<p>Siebach seemed indignant. Auberthal looked at him very quietly.</p> - -<p>"I do not suppose anything," he said, "but there is the skeleton, and -there is—"</p> - -<p>He turned to look for the horse, but it was gone.</p> - -<p>"There was the horse," he concluded, "and to-morrow morning I leave -for Paris. Good-night!"</p> - -<p>He disappeared up the staircase, leaving -me face to face with Siebach.</p> - -<p>"What does he mean?"</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 460px;"><a href="images/042-1000.png"><img src="images/042-460.png" width="460" height="455" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"I RECOGNISED ONE OF SIEBACH'S SERVANTS."</p></div> - -<p>"I really don't know, Siebach."</p> - -<p>"Do you intend to leave for Paris, too?"</p> - -<p>"I am very sorry," I said, "but my nerves are really not equal to this -sort of thing. Good-night, Siebach!"</p> - -<p>He surveyed me with an odd expression; then, suddenly, he gripped my -arm.</p> - -<p>"Do you think—" he almost gasped in my ear—"do you think that he -suspects anything?"</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page36" id="page36"></a>[pg 36]</span></p> - -<p>I shook him off.</p> - -<p>"Good heavens, Siebach! What should he suspect? Can't you explain this -horrible thing?"</p> - -<p>He recovered his self-command almost immediately, and smiled feebly.</p> - -<p>"No. I can't," he said. "Am I to explain all my family skeletons, -Bazarac?"</p> - -<p>"Not if you do not wish."</p> - -<p>And I left him standing by the skeleton of the Stone Rider.</p> - -<p class="center">*<span style="padding-left: 2em;">*</span><span style="padding-left: 2em;">*</span><span style="padding-left: 2em;">*</span><span style="padding-left: 2em;">*</span></p> - -<p>For some years I did not come across Count Siebach von -Salitz—neither, I am afraid, did I wish to do so. Of the Stone -Rider—who had proved to be no stone at all—I often thought, but at -last I hardly regarded the incident as anything more than the -recollection of a bad dream. Auberthal and I met frequently, and often -discussed our adventure; and I believed that he had suspicions -concerning Siebach which I did not care to share. But one evening as -we sat in the "Atelier Espagnol"—Auberthal and myself—someone -knocked at the door and came hastily in. I recognised one of Siebach's -servants.</p> - -<p>"What is it?" I asked.</p> - -<p>"Will M. Bazarac or M. Auberthal come to my master at once? He is very -ill at the Hôtel ——."</p> - -<p>We both rose and looked at each other, and Auberthal slipped his arm -through mine.</p> - -<p>"We had better go together."</p> - -<p>So we went. The Hôtel —— was close by. In ten minutes we were in -Siebach's bedroom.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 500px;"><a href="images/043-1000.png"><img src="images/043-500.png" width="500" height="451" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"HIS EYES BLAZED WITH FEVERISH LIGHT."</p></div> - -<p>He lay in bed, looking thinner and more haggard than ever. His eyes -blazed with feverish light, and he beckoned us eagerly to approach.</p> - -<p>"There is not much time," he said, speaking in a weak, strained voice; -"I sent for you to tell you—what is that?"</p> - -<p>His eyes dilated with fear, and he glanced round the room.</p> - -<p>"It is nothing," said Auberthal, gently.</p> - -<p>He laughed—a short, bitter laugh.</p> - -<p>"He is not far off—he never is. Don't you hear the horse breathing -outside the door? I can. I always hear it now. Don't let it come -in—don't—don't, Auberthal!"</p> - -<p>His voice rose to a shriek.</p> - -<p>"Nothing shall come in."</p> - -<p>"Thank you. I am so foolish to mind! I—I wanted to tell you. I—I -murdered him."</p> - -<p>He fell back exhausted.</p> - -<p>"Whom?" asked Auberthal, aghast.</p> - -<p>"My cousin Franz. He was the heir."</p> - -<p>"But he was drowned."</p> - -<p>Siebach struggled up on his elbow.</p> - -<p>"No, I told them that. I shot him; and I knew if they found the body -they would accuse me, so I hid it. And when his father died, and I got -the castle, I dug him up—and—you know. I could not hide the -skeleton, so I put it on the horse. Don't you think that was a good -idea?"</p> - -<p>He laughed, and Auberthal looked at me with a shudder.</p> - -<p>"The armour hid it," went on Siebach, "and I knew they were all so -superstitious they wouldn't touch it. And then you came—you and -Auberthal."</p> - -<p>At that moment the doctor came in. When he left the room he called me -out.</p> - -<p>"Count Siebach is mad?" I questioned,</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page37" id="page37"></a>[pg 37]</span></p> - -<p>"He is not responsible for what he says. Are you a friend of his?"</p> - -<p>"In a way."</p> - -<p>"Then you had better stay with him. Send for me if he gets worse. I -shall do no good by stopping."</p> - -<p>I went back to Auberthal. Siebach was obviously too ill to be left. I -agreed to sit up with him half the night, whilst Auberthal rested.</p> - -<p>Siebach was exhausted, and for some hours lay quite still. I think he -was insensible. But about 12 o'clock I heard a sound from the bed, and -went to him. He was sitting up, looking straight before him into -space.</p> - -<p>"Don't you hear it?" he asked.</p> - -<p>I listened, to appease him.</p> - -<p>"No."</p> - -<p>"Not the horse?"</p> - -<p>I listened more attentively.</p> - -<p>Yes—the old rattle—the old sound of a horse's hoofs. It was coming -up the stairs.</p> - -<p>Slowly the door opened—slowly the light I had seen before grew in the -darkened air—and into the room rode the Stone Rider, rigid, erect, -with the unearthly radiance all around him.</p> - -<p>He came up to the foot of the bed, and slowly lifted the vizor of his -helmet, disclosing a glistening skull—and, as I looked, the skull -became the face in the portrait over the mantelpiece of the study at -Salitz. It was too evident that Siebach recognised it. His eyes were -fixed on the apparition; his thin features were grey, and drawn with -fear. For a moment he remained motionless, staring at it; then he -threw up his arms with an awful cry, and fell back.</p> - -<p>Slowly the Stone Rider drew the mailed gauntlet from his right hand. -For a moment he poised it deliberately in the air, then flung it full -in Siebach's face.</p> - -<p>A shudder ran through the prostrate figure, but it did not move again; -and the Stone Rider turned his horse and rode from the room. The light -followed him, and we were again in semi-darkness.</p> - -<p>Then I lit a candle and rang for Auberthal and the servants.</p> - -<p class="center">*<span style="padding-left: 2em;">*</span><span style="padding-left: 2em;">*</span><span style="padding-left: 2em;">*</span></p> - -<p>Whether the story of the murder was correct or not, I cannot say. It -may have been the madness of a diseased imagination, or it may have -been the late remorse of a criminal. At any rate, it is not for me to -throw suspicion on the name of a dead man. I can only relate what I -myself saw and heard. The doctor declared, and maintains to this day, -that his patient was insane; and, being a doctor, he very naturally -has the world on his side. But, say what he will, there is one thing -he can never explain. When I lit the candle that night, and found -Count Siebach von Salitz lying dead, I found also that on his forehead -was the distinct print—purple and bruised—of a clenched fist. The -doctor cannot explain this; perhaps I can. For what could it be if it -was not left by the gauntlet of the Stone Rider?</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 330px;"><a href="images/044-700.png"><img src="images/044-330.png" width="330" height="473" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"I ... FOUND COUNT SIEBACH VON SALITZ LYING DEAD."</p></div> - -<hr class="clear" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page38" id="page38"></a>[pg 38]</span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a href="images/045a-1000.png"><img src="images/045a-600.png" width="600" height="176" alt="" /></a> - -<p class="center1s">MAKING A MODERN NEWSPAPER.</p></div> - -<p class="title1"><span class="sc">Some Secrets Revealed</span><br /><br class="b30" /> - -<span class="sc">By Alfred C. Harmsworth</span>, Editor of the <i>Daily Mail</i>.</p></div> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 220px;"><a href="images/045b-460.png"><img src="images/045b-220.png" width="220" height="469" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">FROM FOREST—</p></div> - -<p><span class="dropcap">W</span>HEN you casually and carelessly open your newspaper of a morning, how -often do you realise, even if you are aware, that it is the product of -a score of busy organisations, with tentacles spread over the whole -world, the operation of which involves the best brains and machinery -of the age; that unlimited capital and thought are devoted to its -daily production; that its continual appearance has created a new -class of men who work at night and sleep by day; that its distribution -requires the use of special trains, and the gathering of its news the -opening at night of telegraph, cable, and telephone offices; that the -public appetite for reading is sweeping away vast Scandinavian and -American forests for the manufacture of the wood pulp of which the -paper itself is made; and that the very journal you are reading may -have formed part of a growing tree a month ago!</p> - -<p>In the days of wagers, the wool growing on a sheep's back was once -converted into a dresscoat by dinner-time—and they dined at four -o'clock then! In the last few years a not dissimilar experiment -resulted in the conversion of a tree that was growing at dawn into a -newspaper by luncheon.</p> - -<p>Your daily newspaper is the best bargain you will ever make, and you -make it every day. Do you grasp the fact that your newspaper is the -most splendid example of co-operation imaginable—that it enables you -to obtain for a few pence each week that which, if only one copy were -printed, would cost you, for telegraphy, for brain work, for machinery -and building and land, a thousand pounds a day or more? The Duke of -Westminster or Mr. Astor might buy a better horse, picture, or theatre -seat than you can, but your newspaper is as good as theirs.</p> - -<p>According to Mr. Labouchere and some other folk, the mystery of the -press is the secret of its power. Yet I venture to think that if I -lift the curtain a little—nay more, if I take the public behind the -scenes for a short while—I shall be increasing rather than -endangering the respect in which the newspaper press is very properly -held in this country.</p> - -<p>In the days when many newspapers were small sheets, produced in dark -alleys, under the charge of disreputable ne'er-do-wells, who veiled a -vast amount of vulgarity under the name of Bohemianism, it was -doubtless a wise thing to surround the press with mystery. The less -the public knew about a newspaper office the better for the newspaper. -But to-day the public press is the concentration of all that is best -in thought and all that is most modern in mechanism.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"><a href="images/045c-850.png"><img src="images/045c-400.png" width="400" height="469" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">—TO FLEET STREET.</p> - -<p class="center">A three mile roll of paper.</p></div> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page39" id="page39"></a>[pg 39]</span></p> - -<p>HOW THE NEWS COMES—BY CABLE, TELEGRAPH, TELEPHONE, ETC.</p> -<div class="figparts"> -<a href="images/046a-1000.png"><img src="images/046a-550.png" width="550" height="384" alt="" class="news" /></a> -<a href="images/046a-1000.png"><img src="images/046a-300.png" width="300" height="413" alt="" class="news1" /></a></div> - -<div class="whole"><a href="images/046a-1000.png"><img src="images/046a-320.png" width="320" height="464" alt="How the news comes" /></a></div> - -<p>The internal construction of a newspaper office is almost as -complicated as that of a battleship—the duties of a modern editor as -onerous as those of the man in the conning tower.</p> - -<p>Let us take a hasty glance at the inside life of a journal.</p> - -<p>A newspaper office is one of the few business establishments in which -the human machinery is at work the whole twenty-four hours round. The -business department, which requires the same staff as is needed in an -insurance office or bank, starts its operations, as a rule, at nine in -the morning, when the heads and clerks of the advertising, -circulation, and other departments assemble.</p> - -<p>With them arrives the first of the editorial staff. He, in the case of -one newspaper with which I am acquainted, relieves the colleague who -has been on duty since the previous midnight. It is his duty to open -the editorial letters, to watch the news of the day, to see whether -the particular journal on which he is engaged has gained or lost by -comparison with its competitors in the collection of news, and to -arrange matters generally for the coming of his co-workers, the -foreign editor, and others, who assemble at eleven o'clock.</p> - -<p>By this hour many of the reporters are already engaged in -their multifarious engagements in various parts of the metropolis. -The preparation of the next day's paper goes on steadily -until five o'clock, when there is usually a brief conference -of the editorial powers that be on the policy -to be adopted on any particular event, and the methods -required for obtaining any particular news or other features, -and then, at six o'clock, the hard work of the -day commences.</p> - -<div class="figparts"> -<div class="figright" style="width: 150px;"><a href="images/046b-250.png"><img src="images/046b-150.png" width="150" height="199" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">JUST OUT!</p></div></div> - -<p>The clerks, who have been receiving and checking advertisements all -day, have sent them to the printing department, where advertisers' -announcements are being put into print as rapidly as nimble fingers -can operate quick machinery, and then, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page40" id="page40"></a>[pg 40]</span> -save for the presence of one or two clerks, the advertisement and -commercial side of a newspaper "shuts down" for the day. The -sub-editors appear, reporters come in with the results of their day's -labours, news arrives by the tape and other news machines in a -constantly increasing quantity for the next nine hours. First comes -the news from China or India. The Indian correspondent puts his -telegram on the wire at eight or nine o'clock in Bombay, which is -equal to four o'clock in the afternoon in London; and this difference -of time, even allowing a couple of hours for transmission, makes him -always first in the field with his news. But, on the other hand, the -American news will not arrive until very late indeed, for when it is -seven o'clock in the evening at New York it is midnight here.</p> - -<p>"How do you manage to find all the little pieces of news to put into -your paper?" is a question that must have been asked of every -journalist.</p> - -<p>That is not the difficulty. One's heaviest task is the keeping out of -the items of news. On an average day it is safe to estimate that twice -or thrice as much intelligence comes to a newspaper as it can possibly -use. At times like, say, the last Jubilee, or at any moment of public -excitement, news pours in in a manner appalling to contemplate.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 250px;"><a href="images/047a-540.png"><img src="images/047a-250.png" width="250" height="462" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">OLD STYLE.</p> - -<p class="center">(Setting type by hand at 10 words per minute.)</p></div> - -<p>The wonder is that there are so few mistakes in journals. When it is -remembered that those who handle and pass the news have often but a -second to decide as to its accuracy, that it often comes from parts of -the world to which it is impossible to refer speedily by telegram, -that it frequently consists of statements made by public men, who may -disavow them when put to the test—when it is remembered that the -sub-editor has to contend with the errors of shorthand, of the -telegraph, the electric cable, and the telephone, I think that British -newspapers, and London metropolitan newspapers in particular, are an -object lesson to the world in accuracy. Laborious publications like -the <i>Army List</i>, and the <i>London Gazette</i>, which are compiled by a -leisurely Government staff, contain as many errors in proportion as -the hastily produced modern newspaper.</p> -<!-- 4 --> -<div class="figright" style="width: 300px;"><a href="images/047b-800.png"><img src="images/047b-300.png" width="300" height="363" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">NEW STYLE.</p> -<p class="center">(Setting type by machinery at 40 words per minute.)</p></div> - -<p>Accuracy, indeed, may be considered to be the feature of English -journalism. The stress of newspaper competition in New York induces -the younger journals to rush anything into type that comes to hand, -and the American public does not seem to mind it.</p> - -<p>But I pity the English journal which should print one or two items of -false news. The average Briton, who is a plodding, painstaking man, -takes his newspaper as seriously as his breakfast, and one or two -mistakes in his newspaper, or his eggs, would make him change his -caterer. He has no sympathy for "enterprise" which leads him astray. -And from this fact arises one of the differences between the English -and the American newspaper. From the American aspect, ours is dull, -slow, stupid, and behind the times. On the other hand our journals are -typical of the painstaking, plodding nature of our people, and, like -our public buildings, are often much better than they look.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 400px; clear: both;"><a href="images/047c-1000.png"><img src="images/047c-400.png" width="400" height="284" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">DISTRIBUTING CARTS WAITING FOR THE EVENING PAPER TO COME FROM THE MACHINES.</p></div> - -<p>To return to our visit to the newspaper office. All the evening long -as news arrives it is cut down and measured as to its importance, -corrected, given its proper heading, and sent upstairs by pneumatic or -other lifts to the composing department. Towards eleven o'clock at -night every brain is -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page41" id="page41"></a>[pg 41]</span> -concentrated on its task. At one o'clock the worst is over. There is -time for a cigar or a cigarette. One may be waiting for important news -from a war correspondent, or merely keeping the paper open for any -news that may arrive between one and three in the morning.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 400px; clear: both;"><a href="images/048a-1000.png"><img src="images/048a-400.png" width="400" height="301" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">CYCLIST DISTRIBUTORS "LOADING UP."</p></div> - -<p>The type is first set into columns by machinery, corrected and -re-corrected; these columns are then made up into pages, which are -again corrected, each page being tightly screwed into an iron frame (I -am purposely using no technicalities). A papier maché or other mould -is then taken of each page, and into this mask (or matrix) hot metal -is poured, and the pages come out in the form of curved plates ready -for fixing on the machines. It is a difficult process to explain -without ocular demonstration, and I have been so long accustomed to -the work that I have lost all sense of its beauty and ingenuity.</p> - -<p>Towards three o'clock in the morning all the curved plates have been -fixed on the machines; final proof copies—that is to say, first -impressions of the paper—have been passed; the machines start, and up -come complete copies of the paper as you see it at the breakfast -table, the club, or in the railway train.</p> - -<p>The first complete copies are carefully scanned by dozens of eager -eyes in the hope of finding some tiny blunder which it is not too late -to remove.</p> - -<p>Each of these modern printing presses depicted here has a nominal -capacity of 48,000, or 96,000 copies per hour, according to the size -of the paper.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"><a href="images/048b-1000.png"><img src="images/048b-500.png" width="500" height="385" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">THE MACHINE WHICH EATS PAPER AT THE RATE OF 20 MILES AN HOUR.</p></div> - -<p>It is a speed truly terrific. The carts that are waiting outside the -newspaper office in the night seem to be filled almost by magic. One -hears the machinery start; a few minutes later the race for the -distributing agents and the railway trains begins. Upstairs such of -the editorial staff as have -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page42" id="page42"></a>[pg 42]</span> -not gone home are enjoying the same kind of chat at the conclusion of -their labours as other men do at their clubs. Nor are we newspaper men -clubless even at that hour. The Press Club, hard by Fleet Street, -keeps its doors open for journalists until five a.m.; and for the -printers and others there are special hostelries open to them, and to -them only, by legal enactment. Railway companies, too, provide trains -for us, though not so many as they should, thus enabling us to get -away from the city to the pure air of the suburbs at a time when all -the world is sleeping.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 150px;"><a href="images/049a-450.png"><img src="images/049a-150.png" width="150" height="327" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">HOW THE PAPERS COME UP FROM THE "INFERNAL REGIONS."</p></div> - -<p>Newspapers are commercial concerns, and their proprietors are as -anxious to attractively stock their columns as tradesmen their shop -windows. We do not say so in our journals, but privately we are -entirely aware that we are racing each other for attractive news. As -to what does or does not sell in a newspaper, always an important -question, opinions differ greatly. I doubt whether any two editors of -metropolitan daily journals would agree on that point, the fact being -that what pleases one audience does not necessarily interest another. -Sometimes a newspaper will adopt a feature that has proved successful -in a contemporary with most disappointing results in its own case. Now -and then a particular feature will spread throughout the whole press. -At one time the public is bent upon foreign news, at another time upon -matters purely domestic, but I think all are agreed that the average -metropolitan reader nowadays turns to his foreign news before he reads -anything else. Two or three years ago there appeared to be a positive -craze for sporting intelligence. To-day mere sporting news seems to -have lost much of its attraction. The year before last the amount of -cricket in the evening journals was a source of amazement. This year I -venture to think cricket will reach its proper level.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"><a href="images/049b-1000.png"><img src="images/049b-400.png" width="400" height="334" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">PAPERS BEING TURNED OUT COMPLETE, FOLDED, COUNTED, AND -READY FOR THE AGENTS—AT THE RATE OF 48,000 COPIES PER HOUR.</p></div> - -<p>But that every section of the public values the quick and accurate -publication of news is obvious. The desire for speed increases -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page43" id="page43"></a>[pg 43]</span> -each year, and it is now recognised that the main object of a modern -newspaper organisation is the collection of news and the accurate and -speedy publication thereof. Incidentally it may be mentioned that of -the quickness with which this is performed by the press, the evening -journals in particular, few of the public have the least appreciation. -I have known the verdict of a trial, the result of a cricket match, or -a boat race, published to the world within <i>ten seconds</i> of the -arrival of the news in the newspaper office. The statement seems -incredible, but the thing can be done in more than one newspaper -office in London and the provinces.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"><a href="images/050-1000.png"><img src="images/050-500.png" width="500" height="311" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">AN EDITORIAL CONCLAVE.</p> - -<p class="center">(Deciding the policy of the paper.)</p></div> - -<p>I have asked for and obtained an item of news from New York in seven -minutes. In this space of time was comprised the writing of my -question in London, its transmission to New York, the writing of the -news there, and the telegraphing of it back to London.</p> - -<p>The British evening journals, and more especially those of the -provinces, and Scotland, are, in my opinion, ahead of the world in the -rapidity with which they publish accurate information.</p> - -<p>We newspaper men love to chat among ourselves of great examples of the -publication of exclusive news, "beats" and "scoops," we call them. One -of the most successful was that achieved by the <i>Pall Mall Gazette</i> -when it announced, in the teeth of press and official denials -innumerable, the resignation of Mr. Gladstone. I was in the United -States at the time, and can truly say that for well-nigh a month the -<i>Pall Mall Gazette</i> was advertised day after day by a contradictory -telegram in every paper in the United States. It is said that £500 was -paid for that item of intelligence. It would have been cheap at -£5,000.</p> - -<p>Another great achievement was the publication by the <i>New York World</i> -of news of the sinking of H.M.S. <i>Victoria</i>. It is not pleasant for -the British journalist to remember that the full account first -appeared in a journal published on the other side of the Atlantic, and -that that account was retransmitted to England. Then among other -sensational news victories were those of the <i>Times</i> correspondent at -Pekin, in the recent Far Eastern imbroglio, and of Mr. Archibald -Forbes at the time of the Franco-Prussian war.</p> - -<p>The present generation has almost forgotten a great newspaper -development of a generation back. Nearly thirty years ago the whole -world was wondering what -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page44" id="page44"></a>[pg 44]</span> -had become of Dr. Livingstone. Many attempts were made to find him; -there were private and semi-official hunts for the missing missionary, -but without avail. Then the <i>Daily Telegraph</i> and the <i>New York -Herald</i> despatched Mr. Stanley, who found him at Ujiji. Next to the -splendid war work of Sir W. H. Russell during the Crimea, Stanley's -work was the best expeditionary journey of the century. More recently -we have seen great feats of newspaper enterprise, both in this country -and the United States, grow out of the Hispano-American war. War news -will probably always be a newspaper's greatest luxury.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 250px;"><a href="images/051-650.png"><img src="images/051-250.png" width="250" height="372" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">FLEET STREET BEFORE DAWN.</p></div> - -<p>The <i>Sheffield Daily Telegraph</i> did a very big thing in 1867. I -extract an account of the accomplishment from a recent publication:</p> - -<p>"At that time, although few outsiders suspected it, there existed in -Sheffield a British Vehmgericht—of which a man named Broadhead, -secretary of the Sawgrinders' Union, was president—for the secret -trial and punishment of non-unionist workmen. The <i>Telegraph</i>, acting -on private and dearly-bought information, attacked this organisation, -Sir William Leng, of course, finding the money, and often personally -conducting the necessary investigations. It was a delicate as well as -a dangerous task, as he soon found to his cost.</p> - -<p>"One of his reporters was bludgeoned and left for dead in one of the -principal streets of the town, and in broad daylight. The house in -which another lodged was blown up with gunpowder. His own life was -threatened day by day, and often many times a day. His leaders were -written with a revolver on his desk and another strapped to his hip, -and for nearly a year he never went abroad unarmed. At length the -famous Royal Commission of 1867 was appointed, with the result that -the secret horrors Sir William had so fearlessly denounced were -dragged into the light of day. All England stood aghast, and the -arch-villain Broadhead, together with Crookes, Hallam, and others of -his tools, made full confession in order to save their own miserable -necks. The power of the terrible tribunal was broken for ever; but the -exposure cost the <i>Telegraph</i>, from first to last, some eighteen -thousand pounds."</p> - -<p>Sir William Leng's daring calls to mind that of Mr. Ross, of <i>Black -and White</i>, who as a young man went through an experience that, while -it proved a stepping-stone to his fortune (for he made nearly £1,000 -by his exclusive telegrams to the press), thrilled the world for a -very long time. The following is an account of the matter given me by -a friend of his:—</p> - -<p>In the memorable winter of 1880, when the snow lay so deep along the -lines of the North that trains passed through tunnels of ice, and -towns were isolated for days, a gruesome incident happened.</p> - -<p>The Earl of Balcarres died at Florence, and the body, having been -embalmed, was conveyed by tedious stages to Aberdeen, thence to be -consigned to the mausoleum which formed part of the magnificent -mansion at Dunecht, upon which the deceased Earl had spent twenty -years of thought and "tons of money."</p> - -<p>A hearse, of the lugubrious type one is accustomed to see in country -towns, had been sent to await the belated train at Aberdeen, and the -body was duly transferred, not without difficulty, for the bulk of the -suite of coffins was a little greater than village hearses are made to -meet. The weary ten mile journey was undertaken -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page45" id="page45"></a>[pg 45]</span> -in the dark, amid a downfall of snow, over the bleak road that leads -from the granite city to the village of Skene. Progress was slow, the -night grew darker and stormier; the snow drifted in wreaths across the -road; the horses became exhausted; the men in charge did their utmost -for a time, but it seemed as if, in the words of the national poet, -"the De'il had business on his hand." Hearse and horses became -embedded in a bank of snow, and further effort was futile; the body -had to be abandoned for the night.</p> - -<p>On the following day the storm abated, assistance arrived, the vehicle -was extricated, and the body was conveyed to Dunecht. There the -funeral service was conducted in the chapel which is built over the -family vault, and with little ceremony and few attendants the body was -deposited on one of the shelves of the underground structure which was -intended to be the tomb of the family to which its first tenant, the -noble Earl, belonged.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 400px;"><a href="images/052-1000.png"><img src="images/052-400.png" width="400" height="347" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">A CORNER OF MESSRS. W. H. SMITH AND SON'S HEADQUARTERS -IN LONDON AT 3.30 A.M.</p></div> - -<p>The weird circumstances attending the Lord Balcarres' death and -funeral were almost fittingly followed by events of unparalleled -mystery. Twelve months almost to a day had transpired when a heavy -odour of spices attracted the attention of the servants moving about -the mansion. On examination it was found that the huge slab of stone -which covered the doorway leading into the vault had been disturbed. -The stone—seemingly heavy enough to require the strength of a dozen -men to move it—had been lifted, the vault had been entered, the -coffin "pinched" forward till it rested on the floor, the lid had been -torn off, the two inner cases had been rent, the body removed, and the -floor of the vault was strewn with the red sawdust by which the -embalming fluid had been absorbed. Here was a mystery indeed.</p> - -<p>The first hint of what had happened appeared in the papers on -Saturday. The young Earl was telegraphed for, and outposts of police -were established round the house, with instructions that no one was to -be admitted, and no information was to be vouchsafed. One enterprising -young journalist—Mr. W. D. Ross—who at that time was editing the -principal evening paper in Aberdeen, resolved to break the silence by -which his contemporaries were baffled. He secured the co-operation of -one of the servants on the estate to whom he was known, and, deeming -boldness best, found his way to the house, and demanded an audience of -the Earl. The housekeeper, after some demur, consented. Plain-spoken -tact was necessary in dealing with so delicate a matter; so when the -Earl appeared, the young man explained that he was there as the -representative of the <i>Times</i> (of which he was then the correspondent) -to consult the young peer's wishes as to what should be said about -this mysterious matter, with a view to obviate malicious and mistaken -versions.</p> - -<p>Lord Balcarres wisely accepted this considerate method, and, despite -the orders that had been issued, gave special facilities to the -pressman to examine the vault and obtain the facts so far as they -could be obtained at the time. The first result was that Mr. Ross -secured the monopoly of information, and also the monopoly of the -telegraph wires at Aberdeen, and on Monday morning all the papers -throughout the country published columns on the Dunecht mystery. It -was this publicity that eventuall -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page46" id="page46"></a>[pg 46]</span> -resulted in the partial elucidation of the mystery.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"><a href="images/053-1000.png"><img src="images/053-500.png" width="500" height="364" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">REPORTERS GLEANING "FULLEST DETAILS OF THE CRIME."</p></div> - -<p>For days and weeks the telegraph officials at Aberdeen were kept busy -transmitting the reams of "copy" which, in his capacity of half -detective and half reporter, this young man had prepared. Mr. Ross -probed the matter minutely, and, apart from his important police work, -so thoroughly was his newspaper task accomplished, that over thirty -leading daily papers passed their correspondence into his hands. -Through the various phases of the mystery, ample orders and handsome -revenue poured into him, since sub-editors put no stint on the -quantities of matter of vital interest furnished for the public under -the heading of "The Dunecht Outrage." The sensation was kept up by -speculation, searches by bloodhounds, police investigations, arrests, -body-snatching theories, suggestions of black-mail, of malice, and -every kind of motive, for twelve months.</p> - -<p>During this time, the newspaper man, whose detective work was -considered of the greatest value by the police, became an important -medium between the parties supposed to be concerned and the detective -staff of the city, a position of very considerable personal danger.</p> - -<p>Then the interest died away, till in July of 1882, eighteen months -after the rifling of the tomb, the body was found buried in the leaf -mould that lay in the dry bed of a little rivulet that at one time had -run through the grounds at Dunecht.</p> - -<p>Public interest was again kept at high tension by the curiosity of the -people to account for the motive of the outrage. Then came the -apprehension of suspected persons, afterwards liberated, and finally -of one named Souter, who was convicted in the High Court at Edinburgh -and sentenced to penal servitude. The conviction hardly met the -justice of the case, for it was obvious that there must have been a -group of grave-robbers at work.</p> - -<p>One of the most curious things about the case was that the police -informed Mr. Ross that they believed it was the intention of the -guilty parties to make a confession, and that they had elected to make -him the medium of it. It was actually arranged that the parties were -to travel to Aberdeen by a certain train to reveal the whole mystery, -but for reasons that have never transpired this plan was subject to -sudden eclipse, and to this day the mystery remains as much a mystery -as ever. The unfortunate man Souter, whose actual -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page47" id="page47"></a>[pg 47]</span> -guilt was greatly doubted, called upon Mr. Ross the moment he was set -at liberty, and through him communicated to the Press a circumstantial -repudiation of his own responsibility, and promised that what he knew -about the crime and the criminals would ultimately be revealed when -considerations of honour which had kept him silent could be removed.</p> - -<p>This is the story of the famous mystery which formed one of the most -thrilling newspaper sensations of modern times, and which created for -the present manager of <i>Black and White</i> a reputation for enterprise -which has lasted till to-day.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 360px;"><a href="images/054-750.png"><img src="images/054-360.png" width="360" height="452" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">IN THE EDITOR'S PRIVATE OFFICE—"I HAVE AN IMPORTANT -SECRET TO SELL!"</p></div> - -<p>Of a hundred interesting sides of newspaper life I have been unable to -say anything. The dangers of war correspondents—the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page48" id="page48"></a>[pg 48]</span> -humours of the society column, and the people who want to get into -it—the financial editor—the lady journalist—the parliamentary -staff—the descriptive reporter—the newspaper artist—the <i>£ s. d.</i> -of journalism—each and all of these, and many more, would make a -paper of considerable interest; and Mr. Joseph Hatton should write his -"Journalistic London" anew, for the whole newspaper position has -changed since his last edition.</p> - -<p>The sub-editor and the descriptive reporter appear to me to be the men -upon whom the chief work of the journalism of the future will fall. In -France, where they do many things well, such masters as Zola have -raised descriptive newspaper writing to the level of an art. Here, -save in the case of war correspondence and parliamentary work, we have -not specialised much as yet. A descriptive reporter, as one of the -artists who has illustrated this little chat of mine suggests, may be -sent out to describe a murder trial, a fire, an execution, or -interview a great novelist!</p> - -<p>We shall improve by-and-by. The old verbatim reporter will always -remain, but he must give way to the descriptive writer in many -matters.</p> - -<p>Touching the question of the publishing of great secrets—such as that -of Mr. Gladstone's retirement already referred to—I claim for the -newspaper press of Britain that it refrains from publishing news -calculated to needlessly injure or offend. How well do we know the -fair visitant who comes to us with some great scandal to sell, and who -becomes almost indignant when she is politely shown out. Women, I -fear, are more versed in this matter than men.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 560px;"><a href="images/055-1000.png"><img src="images/055-560.png" width="560" height="450" alt="" /></a> -<p class="centern1"><i>Out with the River Police.</i></p> -<p class="center">SOME DAYS IN THE LIFE OF A NEWS-GATHERER.</p></div> - -<div class="center"> <div class="content1"> -<p>A murder trial.<br /> -A railway accident.<br /> -A political meeting.<br /> -An execution.<br /> -A colliery disaster.<br /> -Interviewing a distinguished novelist.<br /> -A fire.</p> - </div> </div> - -<hr class="medium" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page49" id="page49"></a>[pg 49]</span></p> - -<h2 class="spaced1 wsp">THEIR MOTOR-CAR ELOPEMENT,</h2></div> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 450px;"><a href="images/056a-990.png"><img src="images/056a-450.png" width="450" height="453" alt="THEIR MOTOR-CAR ELOPEMENT" /></a></div> - -<p class="centerb1 spaced2">AND HOW IT ENDED.</p> - -<p class="title1a"><span class="sc">By Edgar Jepson.</span></p> - -<p class="centern1"><i>Illustrated by H. R. Millar.</i></p> - -<p><span class="dropcap">T</span>HE atmosphere of the room was charged almost with storm; there was a -thrill upon its air, the thrill of pent emotion. Jack stood gazing out -of the window; Kitty sat by the fire looking at his broad back almost -hungrily, a craving for the clasp of his arms rending her, her hands -clenched to the whitening of her finger-nails in the effort to keep -control of her feelings.</p> - -<p>"What's the use of having fifty thousand a year, if I can't marry the -man I want!" she cried, fiercely.</p> - -<p>At her words a sudden spasm of pain caught his breath, and twisted his -averted face; but he made shift to say in his usual drawl—</p> - -<p>"It does seem rather hard lines, little girl. Who is it?"</p> - -<p>"Don't call me little girl! I believe you think I'm still a child!" -said Kitty.</p> - -<p>"Very well, very well—madam. Who is the man? Young Malmesford?"</p> - -<p>"As if I should tell you!" cried Kitty.</p> - -<p>"Well, you sent for me. I thought you wanted my advice or help, or -something, don't you know!" said Jack.</p> - -<p>"I want help badly enough," said Kitty; and he turned sharply at her -tone to see that her face was very pale in the frame of her black -hair. "But how could you help me in this? How could anyone help me? I -oughtn't even to talk about it to you!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes; you ought!" he said, quickly. "You've always talked about -everything to me!" He paused awhile, then added, and he could not keep -the sadness out of his voice, "So you want someone else to talk to -about everything? Who is it? I'll deal with him all right." The last -words came savagely.</p> - -<p>"Oh!" cried Kitty, "I believe you'd order him to marry me, and thrash -him if he refused!"</p> - -<p>"I'd see that he did it!" said Jack, with the same savage earnestness.</p> - -<p>A silence fell upon them; Kitty's thoughts seemed to grow more -distressful, for now and again she sighed; Jack stared out of the -window, and watched the deepening twilight blacken the park; it seemed -to him that this confession of Kitty's was so blackening his life; the -night was settling down upon it.</p> - -<p>"Jack—do you—do you remember—about two years ago—you stopped -kissing me. Why—why did you do it?" said Kitty, softly; she seemed to -have wandered from the point. He turned to her; the glow of the fire -alone lit the room now; and she was sitting full in it. Her face was -still pale.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 450px;"><a href="images/056b-900.png"><img src="images/056b-450.png" width="450" height="468" alt="" /></a> -"CLENCHING HIS FIST AND BANGING IT ON THE TABLE."</div> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page50" id="page50"></a>[pg 50]</span></p> - -<p>"Oh," he said, in discomfort, "you weren't a child any more. And you -were a great heiress—and I was your friend and guardian—and all that -sort of thing, don't you know!"</p> - -<p>"Poor Jack! You're very poor, aren't you, Jack?"</p> - -<p>"No, I'm not! I'm rolling in riches! I've four hundred a year!" said -Jack, bitterly. "Besides, there's the Colonial Land Agency; I made -twenty pounds out of that last year."</p> - -<p>"What's four hundred a year with your tastes?" queried Kitty.</p> - -<p>"Look here! don't let's talk about me. What about this fellow?" said -Jack, clenching his fist and banging it on the table.</p> - -<p>"You should never have left Westralia. You kept your horses, you got -your sport; you were on the way to becoming the big man of the -district," said Kitty, not to be diverted from her theme. "Do you -remember what a swell you were when you first found me, six—no, -seven—I'm always forgetting that I'm nineteen—years ago, and how -poor father and I were? Do you know I should never have been anything -but a wild bush-girl if you hadn't taken me in hand and looked after -me? Really you taught me everything! I believe that but for that I -might have worn the wrong clothes!"</p> - -<p>"Oh, nonsense! You were <i>born</i> all right," said Jack.</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes, you did," said Kitty. "And when three years ago the gold was -found, and father made his million, and died, appointing you my -guardian, and you thought I ought to come to England and have some -schooling, I believe you left Westralia just for my sake, to look -after me."</p> - -<p>"One always comes back to England," said Jack, quickly.</p> - -<p>"You wouldn't have come but for that," said Kitty.</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes, I should. Of course I should."</p> - -<p>"I always thought it strange that father didn't leave you a few -thousands a year for your trouble in looking after me and my fortune," -said Kitty.</p> - -<p>"He knew jolly well I shouldn't have taken it," said Jack, hotly.</p> - -<p>There was a pause; and then she said thoughtfully—</p> - -<p>"Do you know I believe father thought you would fall in love with me -and marry me? Wasn't it a funny idea?" said Kitty.</p> - -<p>"Oh, v—v—very funny! Very funny!" said Jack, grinding his teeth -softly.</p> - -<p>"Yes; just think of your age. Why, you'll be twenty-eight on the tenth -of March," said Kitty.</p> - -<p>"Oh! So it's that young fool Malmesford, is it?" said Jack, viciously.</p> - -<p>"What's that young fool Malmesford?" asked the innocent Kitty.</p> - -<p>"Look here," said Jack, in a quiet, strained voice, "we're getting -away from the point. You want to marry a man; and I'm to make him -marry you. Who is he?"</p> - -<p>"Ah," said Kitty, plaintively, with a long-drawn breath, "now I see -why you're so keen about it. You want to get rid of me. You are tired -of the trouble of looking after my stupid investments. Well, I'm sure -I don't wonder at it. You want to marry me off, and have done with it. -I wouldn't have sent for you if I'd known; I've only added to your -trouble."</p> - -<p>"Well," said the goaded Jack, "thank goodness you'll be of age in two -years; and then I sha'n't be plagued like this."</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 430px;"><a href="images/057-700.png"><img src="images/057-430.png" width="430" height="560" alt="" /></a> -<p>"SHE SET DELIBERATELY TO WORK TO FILE THROUGH THE HANDLE."</p></div> - -<p>"Plagued," said Kitty, "how plagued? -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page51" id="page51"></a>[pg 51]</span> -I'm so sorry. How was I to know you wanted to be rid of the trouble of -me and my fortune? You never grumbled before."</p> - -<p>"Oh, your fortune! I tell you I've wished a thousand times that every -investment of yours went to smash, and you lost every penny of it! So -there! I'll just leave you for awhile to make up your mind whether -you're going to tell me who the man is, or not!" He flung out of the -room in a heat, and banged the door.</p> - -<p>Kitty laughed a little low laugh of extreme relief; but her eyes were -all shining; and she said with a little shiver, "He loves me—he -does—he does—he does!!!"</p> - -<p>Presently she rose, with a very resolute face, took a hat and coat -from a peg in the hall, went out of the back-door, and down to the -stables. She went into a coach-house, switched on the electric light -above her motor-car, and considered it thoughtfully. It was a big car, -with something of the air of a trap, built to hold two. Then she went -to the box of tools used for its machinery, and selecting a fine file -stepped into the car, and set deliberately to work to file through the -handle of the lever which started and stopped it. Her Australian life -had made her a capital work-woman, and she did it neatly; but it was a -long piece of work, and now and again she stopped to test it. She -wished to file through it, so that she could break it with a jerk. All -the while she worked she whistled softly. Something about her task -seemed to amuse her.</p> - -<p>At last she completed it to her liking, and then sat back in the car, -weighing, with a face that grew very serious, the risks of the -dangerous game she had resolved to play. After a long while she rose -and said between her teeth, "I don't care if we are smashed, Jack and -I, together."</p> - -<p>She came back to the house, went to him in the billiard-room, and -said, "We're going to dine at the Hall to-night. Aunt will go in the -brougham, and you and I in the motor-car."</p> - -<p>"I hate the beastly thing. I know there will be a smash some day," he -said. His temper was still ruffled.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 500px;"><a href="images/058-1000.png"><img src="images/058-500.png" width="500" height="467" alt="" /></a> -"KITTY AND THE MARQUIS WERE PLAINLY GREAT FRIENDS."</div> - -<p>"Very well," said Kitty, gently. "You go with aunt, and I will go in -the car by myself."</p> - -<p>"I'll be shot if I do!" said Jack; then he said, "I suppose Malmesford -will be there?"</p> - -<p>"I suppose he will," said Kitty, very demurely. "But why do you speak -so contemptuously of your cousin?"</p> - -<p>"I didn't choose my cousins, did I?" said Jack.</p> - -<p>"You're very irritable to-day," said Kitty, severely, and she left -him.</p> - -<p>Later, as they were settling themselves in the motor-car, Jack, still -captious, said, "How many more rugs? are we going to the North Pole?"</p> - -<p>Kitty's heart jumped: they might be going a good deal further: she -only said, "There are ten degrees of frost already; and it isn't like -a closed carriage."</p> - -<p>She handled the lever very gingerly, and brought them to the Hall -safely. Jack did not enjoy the dinner. Kitty and the Marquis of -Malmesford were plainly great friends: she had never, indeed, been so -nice to him before. Jack tried to regard their friendship with the eye -of an indulgent -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page52" id="page52"></a>[pg 52]</span> -guardian, hardened, as he believed himself, to the thought of her -marrying; he made a very poor hand at it. He had accustomed himself, -indeed, to looking at her across the great gulf of her wealth; but the -sight of another man making fortunate love to her awoke in him a -desperate jealousy.</p> - -<p>They were late leaving the Hall; and it was a bitter black frost. Aunt -Anne started first in her brougham, and then Kitty, in a long sealskin -jacket and sealskin cape, walked down between Jack and Malmesford to -the stables, where the motor-car awaited them. Jack wrapped the rugs -round her very carefully, and took his seat at her side; she cried a -careless "Good-night!" to Malmesford, and started the car gently. As -they turned into the road at the end of the drive, she moved the lever -nearly to full speed, and with a sharp jerk of her strong little wrist -snapped off the handle.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 320px;"><a href="images/059-680.png"><img src="images/059-320.png" width="320" height="467" alt="" /></a> -"SHE MOVED THE LEVER NEARLY TO FULL SPEED."</div> - -<p>"What's that?" said Jack.</p> - -<p>"Oh, Jack!" she cried, with an odd, excited thrill in her voice, "I've -smashed the handle, and we can't stop!"</p> - -<p>"Good Heavens!" cried Jack, and threw his arm around her.</p> - -<p>The speed began to quicken.</p> - -<p>"The lever's nearly at full speed," said Kitty, quietly. "What are we -to do?"</p> - -<p>His arm tightened round her, and the alternatives raced through his -mind. "We must strike the Great North Road at Anderfield, and heaven -forgive any one who gets in our way!" he said.</p> - -<p>"Six miles and two turns," said Kitty; "but it's our only chance."</p> - -<p>The hedges were flying past. The first turn was two miles away, and -they were very soon on it. Kitty put on all the brake she could; and -they came round it safely. They came down hill to the second turn: -fortunately it was not sharp: a long hill fairly steep, and, for all -the brake, the machine went quicker and quicker until it seemed almost -to fly, scarcely touching the ground. The hedge of the other side of -the Great North Road sprang suddenly up before them: they seemed -almost on it; Jack, with his heart in his mouth, lifted Kitty half out -of her seat as they whizzed round the corner on two wheels: the car -settled with a jerk that proved the strength of its springs, and they -ripped down the Great North Road.</p> - -<p>Kitty laughed a short hysterical laugh.</p> - -<p>"I thought we'd gone to glory together!" she said: and they both lay -back panting.</p> - -<p>"How far are we going?" said Jack.</p> - -<p>"It won't stop for fifty miles," said Kitty.</p> - -<p>"Good Lord!" said Jack. "Can't I do anything? Let me get at the -machinery."</p> - -<p>"You can do nothing!" said Kitty, sharply.</p> - -<p>For a long while neither said a word. The car sped along with a -querulous, eerie whirr that rose to a clattering snarl as it hurtled -down hill. The cold air stung their faces; the hedges were level, -black walls on either side; now and again they flew through a sleeping -village; and the dogs who ran out to bark, turned and fled yelping -from this sinister, rushing monster. Kitty's firm hand steered them -steadily, save when the car jerked snarling down -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page53" id="page53"></a>[pg 53]</span> -hill, out of control; now and again she set the whistle hooting. Jack -sat with his mind in a whirl of fears of what might befall her. Little -by little the oppression of a nightmare began to weigh upon them as a -binding spell.</p> - -<p>Jack broke it by withdrawing his arm from around her, and lighting a -cigar; he did not slip his arm back.</p> - -<p>Presently she said softly, "Hold me again, Jack, I feel safer"—his -arm slipped round her—"I feel—I feel—as if some dreadful beast were -carrying us away."</p> - -<p>She looked infinitely childlike; and he gripped her closer.</p> - -<p>"Poor aunt Anne, she'll think we've had a smash, as indeed we may," -she said presently.</p> - -<p>"By Jove, yes; they'll be hunting the neighbourhood for us!" said -Jack.</p> - -<p>"As for Lord Malmesford, he'll think you've run away with me," said -Kitty.</p> - -<p>"Oh, nonsense!" said Jack, uneasily.</p> - -<p>"He will though. Juliette Halliwell will tell him so. I saw her get -very angry at the affectionate way you were looking at me at dinner," -said Kitty.</p> - -<p>"I wasn't!" said Jack.</p> - -<p>"Oh, yes, you were; ever so affectionately. What kind of affection was -it, Jack—paternal?"</p> - -<p>"Talk of something else!" said Jack, in a thick voice; and nestling -against him, she felt him quiver and his heart shake him at each -thumping beat.</p> - -<p>Some miles further on the lights of a town rose suddenly a little way -ahead. Kitty set the whistle hooting, and slowed the car as much as -she could, but even then they dashed down the long silent street at a -very dangerous pace. It was fortunate that it was empty. They were a -mile beyond it before they breathed easily again, and Kitty said, -"What town was that?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know," said Jack. "We're five-and-twenty miles from home."</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 400px;"><a href="images/060-800.png"><img src="images/060-400.png" width="400" height="473" alt="" /></a> -"THEY RUSHED TOWARDS THE WAGGON."</div> - -<p>The road stretched far away ahead, very white in the moonlight; and -the feeling that the car was a malignant living creature came upon -them more oppressively than ever, wearing their nerves.</p> - -<p>Kitty nestled closer to him—a fear that her desperate freak would -have a tragic end invading and filling her heart. They rushed up a -long hill—the car seemed to breast it like a strong demon—and at the -top saw before them a long steep descent.</p> - -<p>"Now the brute's going to have all its own way," said Kitty, between -her clenched teeth.</p> - -<p>"Never mind, little girl," said Jack, cheerily, "sit tight." If she -had not been there, he felt that he would have enjoyed the danger; as -it was, he sat in torture.</p> - -<p>"It is out of control!" cried Kitty; and, peering ahead: -"There's—there's a waggon at the bottom of the hill!"</p> - -<p>The whistle hooted and hooted; she gave the car the brake; and at each -leap it jarred every bone in her body. They rushed towards the waggon; -if the waggon was not on its right side of the road, they were -smashed: they were upon it; Kitty screamed out; there was a snapping -crash; then they were rushing along the empty road with the left -splash-board torn off. Kitty lay back in a dead faint. Jack caught the -steering-gear in his right hand, raised Kitty with his left arm, and -twisted into her place, holding her on his knees. The car began to -slacken and go -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page54" id="page54"></a>[pg 54]</span> -smoother up the opposite hill; in three minutes it was steady again. -Kitty lay heavy and still in his arms, her face very white in the -moonlight; her faint breathing scarce parted her lips.</p> - -<p>Uphill and downhill, through villages, through another town the car -fled on. Now and again Kitty murmured a word, now she seemed to sleep. -The night was wearing on. At last it seemed to him that the beast was -tiring; and he scarce dared believe it. But breasting the next long -hill it slowed and slowed; its moan hushed; it came to a crawl. Thirty -yards from the top it stopped a moment, moved on again, then stopped -for good. For all its danger he sighed that their ride was at an end. -Kitty never stirred; he gave her a little shake; and she sighed too, -and raised herself. They looked down on a great stretch of country; -here and there the dim twinkling showed the lights of a town.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 370px;"><a href="images/061-780.png"><img src="images/061-370.png" width="370" height="469" alt="" /></a> -"KITTY LAY STILL IN HIS ARMS."</div> - -<p>"There are some biscuits and a flask of cherry brandy, if it isn't -broken, in the box of your seat," said Kitty, slipping into the place -at his side. He fished them out unharmed, and they munched the -biscuits, and drank from the flask by turns.</p> - -<p>He looked at his watch, and said, "Ten past three! By Jove, we've had -a narrow squeak!"</p> - -<p>"Three in the morning, and miles from anywhere. I'm hopelessly -compromised," said Kitty.</p> - -<p>Jack knitted his brows, thinking it out; he could not gainsay it. He -said nothing. "Oh!" said Kitty, almost in a wail, "I thought you were -a man of honour, Jack."</p> - -<p>"Well?" said Jack.</p> - -<p>"There is only one course open to you," said Kitty.</p> - -<p>"Well, I suppose there is," said Jack, a little stiffly. "Will you -marry me?"</p> - -<p>"Yes: I will—I must—I must," said Kitty, with a deep sigh.</p> - -<p>Presently she said in a very low voice, "Have you no sense of what is -fitting?" As she spoke she looked into his eyes, swiftly and away.</p> - -<p>He caught her to him, and kissed her; it seemed to him that her lips -were responsive.</p> - -<p>A sudden jealous pang wrung his heart. "But—but—the other man: the -man you want to marry?" he said.</p> - -<p>"Ah, yes," said Kitty, carelessly—"the other man. It's no use talking -about him now. Let us forget him. I will tell you about him -when—when—we are married."</p> - -<p>She threw her arms round his neck and whispered, "Do you think you -will learn to love me, Jack?"</p> - -<p>He pressed her to him and cried passionately, "For four years I have -loved you more and more every day. Every day I have cursed your money -more!"</p> - -<p>"Poor Jack!" said Kitty, and her eyes were full of tears. He lifted -her out of the car, putting his arm round her, and supporting her; and -they began to walk down the hill in search of a railway station, -careless, in the glow of their happiness, of that bitter cold, and of -the inevitable long wait for a train.</p> - -<hr class="medium" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page55" id="page55"></a>[pg 55]</span></p> - -<h2><span class="spaced1 wsp">HOW WE GET OUR WEATHER.</span><br /><br class="b30" /> - -<span class="less2"><span class="sc">By Gavin Macdonald.</span></span></h2></div> - -<p class="centern1"><i>With photographs illustrating the queer side of the matter.</i></p> - -<p><span class="dropcap">I</span>N most of the morning papers we are accustomed to the luxury of a -detailed weather report and forecast. The majority glance at it with a -sceptical smile. They are of opinion that in order to be on the safe -side they must invert its message. If fine weather and sunshine are -predicted, they sagely nod and take down the homely gamp. The -prediction of a hurricane or stormy showers is the signal for leaving -umbrellas and overcoats at home.</p> - -<p>However, those who know anything of the gigantic strides meteorology -has made within the past few years are aware that in the main its -prognostications are accurate. In fact, it is a matter for great -surprise that its practical uses are not more generally recognised and -taken advantage of.</p> - -<p>If you meet your best friend in the street his first six words contain -some reference to the weather. The merest stranger looks questioningly -at the sky when he has made his bow. Two-thirds of the daily -conversation of the British Isles has to do with this subject; nor is -this surprising, for it is a matter of vital importance, affecting all -classes alike.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 500px;"><a href="images/062-1000.png"><img src="images/062-500.png" width="500" height="399" alt="" /></a> -<p>CHURCH LIFTED INTO THE AIR BY A TORNADO AND DROPPED ROOF-DOWN ON A HOUSE 100 FEET AWAY.</p></div> - -<p>A wet Bank Holiday may mean thousands of pounds out of a railway -company's pocket, not to mention the disappointment and chagrin of -countless thousands of prospective holiday makers. A severe frost may -disorganise a whole trade. In 1881, for instance, the whole building -trade was at a standstill for a period of nearly three weeks, owing to -the severity of the frost. And to the farmers, horticulturists, and -fruit-growers the weather is a matter of financial life or death.</p> - -<p>Meteorology is of invaluable assistance in other ways: in warning our -coasts of coming storms; in deciding the climate and consequent -healthfulness of the different parts of the country.</p> - -<p>You can't even build a new town successfully without it, for only by -accurate meteorological observation can the two most important factors -of water-supply and sewerage be dealt with. For example, in planning a -new waterworks, the ground subject to the greatest rainfall, and -having the utmost gathering capacity, must be selected; while in -constructing the system of sewerage, it is essential for the surveyor -to accurately gauge the force and volume of the heaviest -thunder-shower. If this is miscalculated, pipes of insufficient -capacity may be laid with disastrous results to the city and its -inhabitants.</p> - -<p>These things are only to be learned by a study of meteorology.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page56" id="page56"></a>[pg 56]</span></p> - -<p>Few people have any knowledge of the science beyond that supplied them -by the forecasts and charts in the daily papers. Consequently the -charts, which are more or less abstruse, are only understood by the -few, and the forecasts are indulgently tolerated as a description of -useless fortune-telling, rendered respectable by scientific -recognition.</p> - -<p>The popular idea seems to be that certain scientific men who have -given the subject considerable study, cast a knowing eye on the -evening sky, and pass on written prognostications for use in the -morning papers.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 500px;"><a href="images/063-1000.png"><img src="images/063-500.png" width="500" height="340" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">HOUSES WRECKED BY A TORNADO.</p></div> - -<p>As a matter of fact the method by which we obtain our weather reports -and forecasts is very different, and savours even more strongly of -romance than the clairvoyant system usually identified with the seers -of the weather office.</p> - -<p>Two institutions look after our weather—the Meteorological Office, a Government -department with a grant of £15,000 per -annum, and the Royal Meteorological Society, -a scientific institution maintained -by the subscriptions and donations of its -members.</p> - -<p>The Meteorological Office occupies a dull set of rooms in Victoria -Street over a shop, and, other than the latest weather chart, hung up -outside the street door, there is nothing to intimate that the -presiding wizards of the weather sit upstairs, and that if you are -particularly anxious to have the latest information in their -possession you have only to walk up and pay the nominal sum of one -shilling.</p> - -<p>Likewise you may receive the latest information by letter for the same -fee, or by wiring to "Weather," London, the shilling fee and the cost -of a telegraphic reply.</p> - -<p>Farmers and others to whom the question of weather is a vital one, -especially at the hay and harvest seasons, are supplied with harvest -forecasts for the nominal sum of 2<i>s</i>. 6<i>d</i>. per quarter, in addition -to the cost of the telegrams.</p> - -<p>In addition to this, a set of forecasts is daily supplied to the -newspapers, and about twenty-eight well-known agriculturists, for -public exhibition in their neighbourhoods.</p> - -<p>The system employed in making up the weather is of more than usual -interest, and is worthy of some description.</p> - -<p>In connection with the office are some 140 observing stations, -including 17 belonging to the Royal Meteorological Society and 19 to -the Scottish Meteorological Society. These stations are divided into -classes according to the value and quantity of the observations -supplied by them. Excepting the cases of telegraphic stations, which -are subsidised by the central office, the observers are mostly -volunteers who are interested in meteorology, and who provide their -own instruments.</p> - -<p>The office receives sixty telegraphic weather reports each morning, -eighteen every afternoon, and twenty-nine each evening, in addition to -an enormous mass of data supplied by volunteer and casual observers.</p> - -<p>The forecast we are accustomed to find in our morning paper is -compiled from the telegraphic reports of the subsidised stations. -There is something peculiarly fascinating in the idea of the clerk of -the weather scenting out a big gale and issuing a warning hours before -its arrival on our coasts. One associates him with a prophet or witch, -and very naturally wonders how it is done.</p> - -<p>As a matter of fact forecast work is far from romantic, entails very -great mental labour, excellent judgment, and great scientific -knowledge and experience.</p> - -<p>The forecasts are made three times a day—at 11 a.m., 3.30 p.m., and 8.30 p.m. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page57" id="page57"></a>[pg 57]</span> -They are, of course, based on the telegraphic reports and -observations. The 8.30 p.m. forecast is made for the morning -newspapers.</p> - -<p>Among the volunteer observers are representatives of all professions. -In one case a deaf and dumb gentleman presides over a station of -considerable importance.</p> - -<p>The stations themselves are mostly situated in the observers' grounds, -and the surroundings of some of them are very picturesque. The -stations at Rousdon and Chapel Hill, Torquay, are both beautifully -situated. Princetown station is particularly interesting, because of -its situation in the yard of the great Dartmoor penal establishment! -We may be quite sure that its presence in such surroundings has -nothing to do with the well-being of the convicts themselves, the -dreary routine of whose lives is little affected by considerations of -weather. In another case, the meteorological observatory is found on -the tower of a church—that of Boston, Lincolnshire. Among the -instruments on the tower is an electrical thermometer connected with -the ground by a wire so that it may be read without the necessity of -ascending. It is impossible to over-estimate the usefulness of a -station such as this, situated as it is in the midst of purely -agricultural country. The farmers round Boston avail themselves, it -need scarcely be said, of the valuable information furnished by the -mysterious little instruments on their church tower.</p> - -<p>More interesting, perhaps, than any of these is the observatory -situated in a London churchyard.</p> - -<p>Although every day a ceaseless throng of human beings crowd and jostle -in the streets of the City of London, yet it has always been difficult -to obtain observations there, for the very good reason that scarcely -anybody lives within its precincts. The only station of the kind is to -be found in the churchyard of St. Luke's, Old Street, one of the few -restful spots in this busiest corner of the world.</p> - -<p>The highest station in Great Britain is that on the summit of Ben -Nevis, 4,407 feet above the sea. The northmost station is in the -Shetland Isles.</p> - -<p>Many gentlemen among the volunteer observers are leading -meteorological experts, and spend much time and money on the equipment -and maintenance of their stations.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 500px;"><a href="images/064-1000.png"><img src="images/064-500.png" width="500" height="469" alt="" /></a> -<p><span style="float: left;"><i>Messrs. Metcalfe, photo.</i></span> <span style="float: right;"><i>Richmond, Yorks</i></span></p> -<p class="center" style="clear: both">HAILSTONES (ACTUAL SIZE) THAT FELL AT YORK, JULY 8, 1893.</p></div> - -<p>A very fine private observatory is that belonging to Col. Knight, of -Harestock, Winchester, of which an illustration appears on page 60.</p> - -<p>The scaffolding in the foreground was erected for the purpose of -lowering an earth thermometer into the ground. This instrument, which -is constructed to register the temperature seventy feet below the -surface, is contained in the wooden chamber standing at an angle to -the scaffolding, and was photographed during the sinking process.</p> - -<p>Besides the work of preparing weather reports and forecasts, the -office fulfils many other functions, such as the study of ocean -meteorology, climatology, and so forth. In connection with the former work, the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page58" id="page58"></a>[pg 58]</span> -office annually receives some hundreds of reports and observations -from officers of ships of the Royal Navy and Mercantile Marine.</p> - -<p>The fishermen and sailors round our coasts have much to thank the -office for. Besides supplying all the ports with daily weather reports -and forecasts, it has lent over 200 barometers to fishing villages and -other places on the coast for the benefit of the seafaring population.</p> - -<p>Fortunately in this country we suffer comparative immunity from -tornados, sirrocos, cyclones, and other dangerous natural phenomena.</p> - -<p>That we can produce something more ferocious than an April shower, -however, is amply demonstrated by our illustration of two huge rents -torn in a hillside at Langtoft, East Yorkshire, by the bursting of a -waterspout.</p> - -<p>Hailstorms are another great source of destruction. Most people will -remember the damage caused by a hailstorm in Essex last year, when -several farms and homesteads were utterly wrecked, and great numbers -of cattle killed.</p> - -<p>Many people who have not encountered the big hailstorm regard it with -the cheerful scepticism with which they view the sea serpent and the -abnormal gooseberry. However, by permission of the Royal -Meteorological Society, we are enabled to reproduce a photograph of -some of the hailstones—actual size—which fell in a great storm at -York on July 8th, 1893, together with a section of corrugated iron, -showing holes and damage caused by hailstones which fell in a similar -storm at Tulcumbah, N.S.W., on Oct. 13th, 1892.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 360px;"><a href="images/065a-760.png"><img src="images/065a-360.png" width="360" height="463" alt="" /></a> -CORRUGATED IRON PIERCED BY HAILSTONES.</div> - -<p>However, most people would rather lose a section of corrugated roofing -than encounter the flash of lightning that struck the man whose -clothes appear in the illustration on the next page. As will be seen, -the clothes are literally shredded to rags, and the strong leather -boots are torn as though they were tissue paper.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 350px;"><a href="images/065b-760.png"><img src="images/065b-350.png" width="350" height="458" alt="" /></a> -<p>MIDNIGHT PHOTOGRAPH OF LIGHTNING FLASH IN SHANGHAI HARBOUR.</p></div> - -<p>Photographs of lightning are no longer novel; but our picture of a -flash taken at midnight in Shanghai Harbour is one of the most -remarkable ever seen. It is some distance behind the anchored steamer, -but the reflection on the water is so vivid as to give it the -appearance of moonlight.</p> - -<p>The tornado is a phenomenon we can very well do without, and we -sincerely hope the clerk of the weather will give us ample notice of -the very faintest indication that one of these inanimate monsters is -coming our way.</p> - -<p>The tornado is soon over, it is true, but hailstorms are to be -preferred. On May 27th, 1893, a storm of this nature put in an -appearance at Wellington, Kansas, and practically wrecked the whole -city. A horse was picked up, stable and all, and blown some hundreds -of yards to leeward. The stable was smashed, but curiously enough the -horse came down on his feet and escaped unhurt.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page59" id="page59"></a>[pg 59]</span></p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 300px;"><a href="images/066a-660.png"><img src="images/066a-300.png" width="300" height="454" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">CLOTHES OF MAN STRUCK BY LIGHTNING.</p></div> - -<p>In the same storm the Lutheran church was lifted bodily from its -foundations into the air, and fell, bottom upwards, on top of a new -residence 100 feet away, as it appears in the photograph.</p> - -<p>In another photograph are some collapsed houses, the result of a -similar storm in Lawrence, U.S.A.</p> - -<p>Although our own Meteorological Office and Society have no such -startling instances to record, yet they possess much data of equal -interest.</p> - -<p>For instance, how many people know that on Dec. 4th, 1879, the -thermometer registered 23 degrees below zero at a place called Black -Adder, in Berwickshire? This is the greatest degree of frost ever -known in Great Britain. The coldest spot in the world is Verkoianski, -a town in Siberia, where 120 degrees of frost have been registered. -The hottest is the Red Sea, where 120 degrees of heat are often -experienced.</p> - -<p>The hottest place in Great Britain, curiously enough, is London, or -rather the Thames Valley. The wettest, Seathwaite, in the Lake -District, where 8.03 inches of rainfall have been registered in 24 -hours.</p> - -<p>Taking 1 inch of rain to represent 101 tons of water per acre, it will -be seen that the farmers cannot complain of drought in the Seathwaite -district.</p> - -<p>However, the greatest rainfall ever measured in this country occurred -in Camden Square, London, on June 28, 1878, when 3¼ inches fell in -1½ hours.</p> - -<p>Lately several meteorological experiments have been made with kites -and balloons, which are expected to enrich the science with many new -discoveries.</p> - -<p>Many people have curious ideas of the capabilities and functions of -"The clerk of the weather." Mr. Robert H. Scott. M.A., F.R.S., the -gentleman at present occupying this position, in his book on "Weather -Charts and Storm Warnings," tells some curious stories illustrative of -this.</p> - -<p>For instance, in June 1886 he received a letter bearing no less than -ten postmarks. It was addressed "Weather Office, Strand, London." Its -contents were—"Three next days order to be fine."</p> - -<p>A Boston letter was addressed—Right Hon. Clerk of Weather, 9, Downing -Street, London, W.C.</p> - -<p>Its contents were—</p> - -<p class="ind">"My Lord Clerk,—May it please your lordship you will greatly oblige -your humble servant by writing or sending me a telegraph whether it -will be fine or no on the 5th of November, 1867.</p> - -<p class="rindent">"I have the honour to remain,</p> -<p class="author1"> "Your lordship's most obedient servant,</p> -<p class="author">"Joseph William ——."</p> - -<p>Such letters are by no means rare, though such ignorance seems -scarcely credible in the nineteenth century.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 500px;"><a href="images/066b-1000.png"><img src="images/066b-500.png" width="500" height="360" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center"><i>Boak & Co., Photo, Bridlington Quay</i></p> - -<p class="center">HILL TORN BY WATERSPOUT, LANGTOFT, E. YORKS</p></div> - -<p>Further, there are many false prophets who prophesy without science, -and they rarely miss the opportunity of sending along a forecast in -order to give the constituted -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page60" id="page60"></a>[pg 60]</span> -clerk of the weather a leg up in his arduous duties.</p> - -<p>There are also many amateur weather prophets.</p> - -<p>One of these gentlemen issued monthly postcard forecasts for more than -twelve months between 1882 and 1883.</p> - -<p>If they are wrong, nobody bothers, but if the S.W. gale predicted from -the Meteorological Office fails to put in an appearance, woe to the -unfortunate clerk of the weather. People forget how many times his -predictions have been verified.</p> - -<p>If one is interested in meteorological work and is anxious to become -an observer, the path is by no means difficult. On application at the -office a form is sent, which must be filled up. Certain particulars as -to the observer's fitness are naturally required, and he is invited to -forward a description of his residence and a plan of the spot on which -he would suggest erecting his instruments.</p> - -<p>He must also describe the natural surroundings, so that the office may -decide whether they are likely to have any prejudicial effect on the -instruments, and therefore affect the accuracy of the records.</p> - -<p>Each observer supplies his own instruments, and if his application is -accepted, a book of instructions on their correct use is sent to him.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 380px;"><a href="images/067-800.png"><img src="images/067-380.png" width="380" height="456" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">COLONEL KNIGHT'S 70-FOOT EARTH THERMOMETER, WINCHESTER.</p></div> - -<p>Or he may obtain instruction at the London office, or any of its chief -agencies. In all these places sets of instruments are kept in working -order for the express purpose of instructing observers in the methods -of observation.</p> - -<p>I suppose most of our readers, during a stay at some port or favourite -watering place, have observed a curious triangular black object -suspended from the pier or jetty signal-mast.</p> - -<p>Those who have enquired as to its nature will know that it is the -signal of an approaching storm. On receiving telegraphic notice of an -atmospheric disturbance on or near the British coasts, the -Meteorological Office telegraphs to all the chief ports and fishing -stations.</p> - -<p>The telegram is exhibited at the foot of the signal-mast, and the -warning signal, a black canvas cone 3 feet high and 3 feet wide at the -base, is immediately hoisted.</p> - -<p>The nature and direction of the approaching storm is indicated by the -position of the cone.</p> - -<p>At night three lanterns hung on a triangular frame supply its place.</p> - -<p>Storm warning telegrams are supplied to some 215 stations, of which -117 are in England and Wales, 63 in Scotland, 28 in Ireland, 4 in the -Isle of Man, and 3 in the Channel Islands.</p> - -<p>Another branch of the work, of invaluable service to navigators, is -the preparation of monthly current charts of the oceans of the world. -Observations are constantly being made by captains of ocean-going -vessels, and the data are forwarded whenever possible to the Weather -Office. A strict account of the currents recorded in each month has -been kept for 60 years!</p> - -<hr class="medium" style="clear: both;" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page61" id="page61"></a>[pg 61]</span></p> - -<h2><span class="spaced1 wsp">HER LETTER!</span><br /><br class="b30" /> - -<span class="less2">ONE OF J. HARWOOD PANTING'S INTERESTING NARRATIVES.</span></h2></div> - -<p class="centern1"><i>Illustrations by W. B. Wollen, R.I.</i></p> - -<p><span class="dropcap">B</span>RUSSELS—evening—an evening which preceded a still more memorable -morn. To be precise, it was the 15th of June, in the year of grace -eighteen hundred and fifteen.</p> - -<p>Captain John Durnford, of the Guards, stood outside the Chapelle du -Saint Sacrament des Miracles. The air was full of rumours. Napoleon -had been striding Europe like a Colossus. No one knew what would be -his next move on the strategical chessboard. But it was not of him, -nor of the events connected with him, that John Durnford was thinking -as he stood before the Chapelle.</p> - -<p>He had heard of the death of a woman whom he had tenderly loved. Years -ago, before he entered the army, they had been sweethearts. Then they -had drifted apart; and now he had discovered, quite accidentally, that -she had died but two days ago, homeless, friendless. And yet not -entirely that. Her last moments had been tended by Sister Anne, a -<i>religieuse</i>, and it was to see her that Jack was waiting outside the -Chapelle.</p> - -<p>Presently, the hour of nine was chimed from the surrounding belfries. -Almost simultaneously, the door of the Chapelle was opened, and the -<i>religieuse</i> came out.</p> - -<p>"Pardon me," said Jack, approaching her, hat in hand; "but am I -speaking to Sister Anne?"</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 450px;"><a href="images/068-1000.png"><img src="images/068-450.png" width="450" height="428" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"'AM I SPEAKING TO SISTER ANNE?'"</p></div> - -<p>"Yes, my son."</p> - -<p>"You are the lady, are you not, who so charitably befriended Mdlle. -Denton?"</p> - -<p>"I but did my duty, my son."</p> - -<p>"Ah, if all the world would but interpret duty in the same way! I am -an old friend of Mdlle. Denton's, and it was only by chance I heard of -her death. Could you let me see her before—before——"</p> - -<p>Jack's voice faltered. He did not complete the sentence.</p> - -<p>"Before she is buried, you would say? I understand," said Sister Anne, -sympathetically. "Poor child! I thought she hadn't a friend in the -world. It seems I was mistaken. Will you follow me?"</p> - -<p>She took him through a labyrinth of streets, and paused before a -ramshackle old house which had seen and withstood the storms of more -than one revolution.</p> - -<p>"You would like to be alone with the dead?" asked the Sister.</p> - -<p>"If Madame will grant me that favour."</p> - -<p>She rang the bell, whispered to the drowsy old <i>concierge</i>, and, with -a <i>Benedicite</i>, was gone. The <i>concierge</i> conducted him up the -staircase, pointed to a door, gave him a lighted candle, and -descended.</p> - -<p>Jack opened the door, and as he did so a gust of wind blew out his -light and left him in darkness. He had just time, however, -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page62" id="page62"></a>[pg 62]</span> -to see the white-shrouded figure stretched on the bed in the corner. -He approached it reverently, and stood by the side of the shroud, with -thoughts which choked themselves for utterance.</p> - -<p>"Poor, poor Minnie! This, then, is the finish!"</p> - -<p>What was that? His moan, he thought, was echoed by another. He quickly -put the thought from him.</p> - -<p>He put his hand gently forward to feel the face of the dead woman, and -in doing so it rested upon something warm, palpable. He could almost -have shrieked, the transition of feeling was so great—between the -ice-cold rigour he had anticipated, and the warmth of animate life. -What could it mean?</p> - -<p>He had no time for conjecture, for the hand which he had extended to -the face of the dead was clasped by another hand—the hand of the -living.</p> - -<p>"In Heaven's name, who are you?" demanded Jack.</p> - -<p>There was no answer; then Jack repeated his question in French. This -time there came an answer.</p> - -<p>"One—one who loved her, Monsieur! By what right are you here?</p> - -<p>"By as great a right as yours—as one who loved her, too."</p> - -<p>Jack thought he heard a curse between clenched teeth.</p> - -<p>"Love? <i>Peste!</i> What does a cold-blooded Anglais know of love? You -come here as a thief in the night."</p> - -<p>"Thief!" Jack exclaimed. "I suppose you know the meaning of the words -you have used?"</p> - -<p>"<i>Parbleu!</i> How could I do otherwise, since Monsieur himself has -provided me with an illustration? Is it the act of an honest man to -steal into a chamber? Is it the act of a gentleman to encroach upon -another's grief? No; it is the act of a <i>vauvien</i>; for it is insult to -the living and profanation to the dead."</p> - -<p>The man was evidently distraught with grief; so Jack replied calmly, -"You talk of profanation to the dead. It would indeed be profanation -were I to imitate your language. I am willing to admit that you excel -in your nice selection of epithets, but I deny your love for the poor -dead girl lying here by your use of them."</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 500px;"><a href="images/069-1000.png"><img src="images/069-500.png" width="500" height="401" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"BEAUTIFUL SHE LOOKED, EVEN IN DEATH."</p></div> - -<p>Jack's calmness of utterance, so strongly in contrast to that of the -stranger, produced some effect upon his hearer. There was a lengthy -pause. Save for the sharp breathing of the two men confronting each -other, the chamber might have been given up entirely to the dead. It -seemed in that pause as though the still form in the shroud were -listening for an answer.</p> - -<p>At length the stranger spoke, his voice now tremulous and pathetic:</p> - -<p>"You doubt my love for her? <i>Eh, bien!</i> I loved her as few men could -have loved. I have confronted death once, twice this day to see her -dear, dead face. I have confronted—still confront—what is worse than -death: disgrace and ignominy. Has Monsieur done as much?"</p> - -<p>"No," said Jack, sententiously, touched yet chagrined by the man's -passion.</p> - -<p>"Until Monsieur has done as much, has he the presumption to say that -he has as great a right to stand here as I?"</p> - -<p>"Presumption!" cried Jack. "By whatever right I stand here, I -certainly question your right to use such terms to me. But -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page63" id="page63"></a>[pg 63]</span> -before we discuss the point further, would it not be as well to have a -light?"</p> - -<p>There was a hasty movement on the part of the figure opposite.</p> - -<p>"If you stir, you are a dead man."</p> - -<p>There was a faint ray of light shining through the window, not -sufficient for Jack to see the person before him, but sufficient to -see the cold gleam of steel. It was a sword. This man was a soldier, -then, and an enemy. Jack now understood his allusion to the peril he -had run in coming there, and admired his bravery. His love for Minnie -Denton must indeed have been great.</p> - -<p>"You spoke about ignominy just now," said Jack. "I don't know whether -your interpretation of the phrase is the same as mine. But a British -soldier—for I, too, am a soldier—considers that there is no greater -ignominy than that of being suspected of cowardice. I should be a -coward if I cared for your threats. I'm going to get a light."</p> - -<p>"Pardon me. You are a brave man. I did wrong to threaten you." Jack -heard the sword return to its scabbard. "Let me appeal to your -honour."</p> - -<p>"That is an appeal which has never been made to me in vain."</p> - -<p>"My visit here has been a secret. I wish it to remain so. This much -only I may tell you—that I am an officer in the French army, enjoying -a position of great responsibility and trust. You see the risk I have -run."</p> - -<p>Jack started. This man had indeed risked much to see the last of the -woman he loved.</p> - -<p>"You say that your visit here is a secret one; and yet you reproached -me just now with being a thief in the night. I will not retaliate; for -I too can respect a brave man. I will only say that your confidence -will not be betrayed."</p> - -<p>Jack stretched out his hand. It was again clasped by the stranger. -They stood thus for a moment, hand in hand, over the dead.</p> - -<p>Then the stranger bent, and Jack could hear him whispering terms of -endearment to ears that could not hear, and pressing kisses upon lips -that could not respond.</p> - -<p>"Now, Monsieur, I am going," he said, at length. "I thank you for your -patience, and will send up the <i>concierge</i> with a light. You will then -be able to read this letter. Oblige me by taking it. From it you will -see who is the most entitled to her love. It was the last letter she -ever wrote. You say you are a soldier? <i>Eh, bien</i>, when next we meet, -Monsieur, it will be in a different place. As we have learned to -respect each other, I hope to show that respect in the best way a -soldier can—by crossing swords with you. <i>Jusqu'au revoir!</i>"</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 400px;"><a href="images/070-1000.png"><img src="images/070-400.png" width="400" height="418" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"HE WAS STOPPED AT THE ENTRANCE BY A GENDARME."</p></div> - -<p>"<i>Au revoir</i>, Monsieur!"</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page64" id="page64"></a>[pg 64]</span></p> - -<p>In a moment or two Jack heard the stranger go out, and the <i>concierge</i> -came stumbling up with a light. Jack took it from him, and gazed upon -the face of Minnie Denton. Beautiful she looked, even in death. The -pain and agony of the last struggle had gone and left the features -placid, as one in peaceful sleep.</p> - -<p>Years ago he had loved her deeply, tenderly, and she had returned his -love. Then they had quarrelled. The breach between them had widened, -and in a fit of desperation he enlisted. Europe was at the time one -great battlefield, and Jack was immediately sent on active service. So -he had altogether lost sight of his old love.</p> - -<p>He had been with Wellington in the Peninsula, and after serving with a -bravery which had gained him the eulogiums of his general, had been -drafted with his regiment to Brussels just prior to the time when -Napoleon escaped from Elba.</p> - -<p>There had not been much time to think of love while these stirring -events were transpiring, but the news of his old sweetheart's death, -in the very city in which he was stationed, had touched a tender -chord.</p> - -<p>Jack mused mournfully upon the past as he looked down on the still, -silent face. She had been fickle; yet had not he? What would their -fate have been had they not quarrelled? Would it have been widely -different? Perchance she would have been a happy mother; he, a happy -father; or they might have been utterly miserable.</p> - -<p>Whatever Fate might or might not have had in store for them in other -circumstances, it was galling to think that her last thoughts had been -of this stranger—a Frenchman and an enemy.</p> - -<p>But was it true? There could, alas! be little doubt of it, for had not -the Frenchman left with him the best—rather he would say, the -worst—of all testimony: her own letter? What stronger evidence of her -fickleness could there be than that?</p> - -<p>Jack turned to the light and looked at the letter which had been -placed in his hand.</p> - -<p>Good heavens! What was this?</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 300px;"><a href="images/071-720.png"><img src="images/071-300.png" width="300" height="412" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"THE DUKE AND HE HELD A WHISPERED CONVERSATION."</p></div> - -<p>It was no love letter, but a document folded in the shape of a letter. -Jack looked at it eagerly, and read it through not once, but twice, -and thrice.</p> - -<p>It was Napoleon's directions to his generals, signed by the Emperor -himself, containing specific instructions respecting the forthcoming -battle against the allied forces. The one line that burnt itself into -Jack's brain was that an advance was to be made upon Quatre Bras early -the next morning. Wellington had no suspicion that the advance was to -be made so soon; for Jack knew that he and many of the officers were -at a ball given by the Duchess of Richmond in the Grande Place.</p> - -<p>The Frenchman had said that he was an officer, enjoying a position of -great responsibility and trust. Jack saw it all. He had given him this -document instead of, as he supposed, the dead woman's letter. Then -came to Jack a question of honour. Had he the right to use this -information?</p> - -<p>He did not pause long to consider the point. The safety of his country was at -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page65" id="page65"></a>[pg 65]</span> -stake. That was enough. The old maxim, "All is fair in love and war," -had now a double signification. So Jack hurried along with all -possible speed to the Grande Place.</p> - -<p>The ball was at its height. The strains of music, the laughter of the -dancers, came to Jack as he neared the Duchess's residence.</p> - -<p>He was stopped at the entrance to the hall by a gendarme.</p> - -<p>"Est ce que vous avez votre billet, Monsieur?"</p> - -<p>"Non."</p> - -<p>"Alors je ne puis pas vous admettre."</p> - -<p>Jack explained it was of the utmost importance that he should see the -Duke of Wellington, and at length he was ushered up the staircase into -an ante-room, while an attendant went in search of the Duke.</p> - -<p>Jack had a full view of the ballroom as he waited. As in a -kaleidoscope he saw the gleam of many uniforms, fair faces, white -shoulders, slender graceful forms—alternate flashes of scarlet and -white—as couple after couple whirled by in the mazy waltz. Presently -from out the maze came one martial figure which Jack knew well. There -could be no mistaking that stern, immobile face, the tightly pressed -lips, the prominent Roman nose. It was the Iron Duke!</p> - -<p>"Well, sir, you wish to see me?" was his laconic greeting.</p> - -<p>"Yes, General, on a matter of life and death. Read that."</p> - -<p>He handed the Duke the document he had received from the Frenchman. -His searching eyes had grasped its contents in a moment; yet he -betrayed no excitement or astonishment.</p> - -<p>"Where did you get this?" he calmly asked.</p> - -<p>Jack briefly explained the circumstances under which he had obtained -possession of the document. The Duke turned to his aide-de-camp.</p> - -<p>"Tell General Picton I wish to see him immediately."</p> - -<p>In a minute or two the aide-de-camp returned -with the General.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"><a href="images/072-1000.png"><img src="images/072-500.png" width="500" height="389" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"THE FRENCHMAN WAS A VERY SKILFUL SWORDSMAN, JACK EQUALLY SO."</p></div> - -<p>"Napoleon left Frasne this morning," said Wellington. "The Prussians -have fallen back. Ziethen has been beaten. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page66" id="page66"></a>[pg 66]</span> -Napoleon is marching now upon Quatre Bras. Read that."</p> - -<p>Picton read the document, and studied the plan. Then the Duke and he -held a whispered consultation. The aide-de-camp returned again and -again to the ballroom, and Jack saw the officers stealing away one by -one. Then the Duke turned to Jack:</p> - -<p>"You have done well in bringing me this document. I will not forget -it. Prepare to join your regiment."</p> - -<p>Jack saluted, and passed into the street. As he did so, the bell of -the Hotel de Ville boomed one. Simultaneously could be heard the -tramp, tramp of the Highland regiments as they defiled into the Grande -Place.</p> - -<p>The British forces were preparing to meet the enemy.</p> - -<p>In the morning the two armies found themselves ranged in battle array -opposite each other.</p> - -<p>Then came the opening struggle at Quatre Bras, followed by the yet -more memorable death-wrestle of nations at Waterloo.</p> - -<p>No need to repeat the incidents of that famous day—Picton's bravery, -Napoleon's strategy, Wellington's tenacity of purpose, the glorious -stand around the farmhouse of La Haye Sainte.</p> - -<p>Napoleon charged again and again the immovable British centre. The -destinies of nations hung in the balance, and it was not until -Wellington gave the famous command—"Up, Guards, and at them!"—that -the balance turned to the side of victory.</p> - -<p>Jack was foremost in the charge, and as his column swept down the -slope, he heard a voice cry out to the fleeing Frenchmen:</p> - -<p>"Arrêtez! Arrêtez!"</p> - -<p>He recognised the voice as that of the man whom he had met at the -shroud of Minnie Denton. Though the interview had only been brief, he -could recall every accent. The voice was one he was never likely to -forget.</p> - -<p>Finding his efforts to check the retreating soldiers unavailing, the -officer turned and faced the pursuing column.</p> - -<p>Jack was the first to reach him. The rest of the column swept on, -leaving the two face to face, sword to sword.</p> - -<p>"Your prophecy has come true, Monsieur," said Jack. "We have met -again—a little sooner probably than you anticipated."</p> - -<p>"Ah! it is you," said the officer. "Truly pleased to see you. We are -destined, it seems, to be rivals till the last. I beat you in love, -you will admit; and I shall do my best to——"</p> - -<p>He did not finish the sentence. Steel met steel; the sparks flew from -the quivering blades. The Frenchman was a very skilful swordsman, Jack -equally so. Jack at last with an adroit parry sent the sword from his -adversary's hand.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 500px;"><a href="images/073-1000.png"><img src="images/073-500.png" width="500" height="331" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"JACK QUICKLY DISMOUNTED, AND KNELT BY HIS SIDE."</p></div> - -<p>Jack was stooping to pick up the weapon when a stray shot hit the -Frenchman in the breast. He fell with a groan from his horse. Jack -quickly dismounted, and knelt by his side.</p> - -<p>"Ah, Monsieur, it is very good of you," he gasped, as Jack raised his -head; "it is very, very good of you; but I am dying. The fortune of -love was with me; the fortune of war is with you."</p> - -<p>Jack strove to staunch the blood that was gushing from the wound, but -in vain. The wound was a mortal one.</p> - -<p>"It is useless," gasped the Frenchman. "Nothing can be done, and I -would rather die than be a prisoner. You are my enemy, but you are a -gentleman. One thing I would ask you. Minnie—Mdlle. Denton—is to be -buried to-morrow, Bury us in one grave. It is all I ask."</p> - -<p>Jack promised. He felt a great pressure from the hand resting within -his; then the head fell back in his arms. A brave soldier had fought -his last battle.</p> - -<p>Simultaneously there rose on the air a great shout. It was the shout -of the conquering army announcing that the battle of Waterloo had been -fought and won.</p> - -<hr class="medium" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page67" id="page67"></a>[pg 67]</span></p> - -<h2><span class="spaced2 wsp">SERMONS WITHOUT WORDS</span><br /><br class="b50" /> - -<small><span class="sc">A Marvellous Performance in Dumb Show.</span></small></h2></div> - -<p><span class="dropcap">N</span>OT a quarter of a mile from the Marble Arch, on the left side of -Oxford Street (No. 419, Oxford Street, as a matter of fact), looking -towards the Park, there stands a dull, unpretentious, red brick -edifice, so unpretentious indeed that in spite of its ecclesiastical -appearance it is unnoticed by the majority of passers by.</p> - -<p>The bulk of the teeming thousands who pride themselves that they know -their London are ignorant of its whereabouts, nor are the countless -legions who daily pass through the busy thoroughfare better informed.</p> - -<p>Nor is it surprising; for there is little but a tiny cross on the -coping stone, and a dingy notice board behind dingier railings, to -mark one of the most interesting buildings in all London—St. -Saviour's Church, the cathedral of London's 2,000 deaf and dumb.</p> - -<p>Here Sunday by Sunday the silent poor and the silent rich worship -together. Outside, the roll of traffic merges into one long dull roar -that may distract the thoughts of worshippers in other churches, but -to the congregation of St. Saviour's makes no difference. They cannot -hear it.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 300px;"><a href="images/074-650.png"><img src="images/074-300.png" width="300" height="434" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">JUSTICE (WEIGHING WITH SCALES).</p></div> - -<p>I had heard much of the Rev. F. W. G. Gilby's wonderful method of -preaching to his people, how he has become thoroughly conversant not -only with the old-fashioned finger spelling familiar to those who have -watched the conversation of the deaf and dumb, but can also by means -of gesture and acting make use of a system of preaching richer in -suggestion, wider in range, and infinitely more effective in its scope -and power of riveting the interest of his flock.</p> - -<p>Accordingly, one wet Thursday evening a short time ago, I made one of -the congregation at evening service, curious to take part in such a -service myself. I am never likely to forget the impression that quiet -service made on me, nor to relieve my mind of the feeling of -overwhelming depression at the realisation that this little crowd of -afflicted people, miserably and unutterably poor in the majority of -cases, was living, moving, and breathing in our very midst, helpless -yet happy, willing and intelligent, yet almost entirely dependent on -this one enthusiastic, unselfish man for their comfort—not only -spiritual, but in many cases, as I discovered, material as well.</p> - -<p>I have not the space, nor is it in my province in this short article, -to describe or appeal on behalf of the needs of this institution, but -the interested ones should see for themselves, and if within their -power, help.</p> - -<p>Excepting the chaplain's wife, herself an expert follower of her -husband's method, I was the first to arrive. The lights were low, and -there was nothing about the dim church save the absence of choir -stalls and pulpit to suggest the unusual nature of its mission.</p> - -<p>Presently a distant door opened, a shuffling step dragged along the -aisle. The first member of the congregation took his rags with him -into a front seat. He was a shoeblack down on his luck, but nobody -turned him out. In Mr. Gilby's flock all are equals, all are friends -in their common adversity. The first seats are for the first comers.</p> - -<p>A few moments later and the congregation was nearly complete. Here and -there one caught a flash of recognition between two friends, then up -went two pairs of hands flashing white in the dim light as an animated -conversation took place across the church. By the time the church was -half full a whole volley of chatter was playing round; everywhere the -darkness was alive with flickering, speaking hands, and faces -vibrating with expressive gesture. It was an odd scene, weird and -uncanny to the hearing visitor who sat misunderstood and not -understanding amid the silent throng.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page68" id="page68"></a>[pg 68]</span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a href="images/075-940.png"><img src="images/075-600.png" width="600" height="951" alt="" /></a> - -<p class="center wsp">"DEAR DEAF AND DUMB FRIENDS WE WISH YOU</p></div> - -<p>In a few moments the chaplain, attired in the usual canonicals, -appeared, and the service commenced.</p> - -<p>Throughout the proceedings there was no sound but the dull roar of -passing omnibuses and cabs outside. Not a hymn, not a word, only that -indescribable hush, almost unnerving to one strange to the scene. Yet -throughout the service, in the prayers, in the sermon, not an eye -strayed from the slight figure talking in a language of his own at the -little desk on the altar steps.</p> - -<p>At first the ghostly reality of this strange sermon dispelled all -other thoughts. It did not seem comprehensible that there could be any -connection between the chaplain and the attentive congregation, but -here and there one could catch a reflection of one of his gestures on -the face of an intent watcher.</p> - -<p>Then a more than usually familiar passage was signalled, and a broad -intelligent smile passed swiftly across the faces of the congregation, -and they nodded and looked towards each other comprehendingly.</p> - -<p>Then for the first time one realised that the flying fingers playing -rapidly above the reading desk, flickering now high and now low, like -the figures in a kinetoscope picture, meant something; that the -gestures, the graceful swaying of the body, the marvellous play of the -features, all had their meaning; that each little movement was -intelligible to the watchers as the word of a spoken sermon, and -infinitely more expressive.</p> - -<p>As the utter novelty of the scene became more familiar, I found myself -trying to interpret the drift of the sermon, and it was little short -of marvellous how intelligible a great number of the gestures were, -even to one untrained and unused to sign language.</p> - -<p>The acting and gestures in many sentences were so obvious, that it was -almost as though the words were rather the equivalents of the signs -than <i>vice versâ</i>. It was, indeed, an astonishing revelation of the -possibilities of human expression. When the faculty is combined with a -system of word signs intelligible to the merest child, it will be -understood how much may be done in this way, without recourse to the -more tedious method of spelling out each word separately, although -this is necessary where the sign imagery is so subtle as only to -appeal to highly cultivated imaginations.</p> - -<p>As a matter of fact, Mr. Gilby has a marvellous faculty in this -direction, that has been fostered and perfected by life-long study. So -much is this the case, indeed, that I doubt if he could be equalled in -this direction by any one of our greatest actors.</p> - -<p>Presently the service was at an end. There was a little desultory -silent conversation, and the congregation dispersed, just as it came, -without a sound. Three or four stragglers, clean and -intelligent-looking, but -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page69" id="page69"></a>[pg 69]</span> -obviously poor, remained behind, and presently made their way up the -altar steps, and into the tiny vestry.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a href="images/076-930.png"><img src="images/076-600.png" width="600" height="965" alt="" /></a> - -<p class="center wsp">JOINED TOGETHER IN ONE HEART AND ONE MIND, IMITATING CHRIST UNTIL THE CHURCH IS COMPLETE."</p></div> - -<p>I followed them, and when each had stated his different wants and -difficulties, and received relief and comfort, I persuaded Mr. Gilby -to assist me in the preparation of this article, illustrative of his -remarkable work.</p> - -<p>It will be readily granted by those who examine our interesting series -of photographs, that my demands on his good nature were by no means -moderate. Those who object to being photographed almost as much as -they dislike the necessary visit to the dentist—and Mr. Gilby is one -of these—will appreciate Mr. Gilby's feelings when our photographer -desired not only one siting, but a dozen. However, Mr. Gilby will be -more than compensated if this article is the means of attracting -public attention to the afflicted ones that are his especial charge.</p> - -<p>The most important photographs we give are those that illustrate a -message that I have prevailed on Mr. Gilby to issue through these -pages to the deaf and dumb of the British Empire. The message is -necessarily brief and short: as it is we are obliged to print twelve -photographs in order to do it justice. The exact message is as -follows:—</p> - -<p>"Dear deaf and dumb friends, we wish you joined together in one heart -and one mind, imitating Christ until the Church is complete."</p> - -<p>The appropriateness of many of Mr. Gilby's signs becomes immediately -apparent on glancing at the photographs, but some are not as clear as -others. "Deaf and dumb" is signified by rapidly touching the mouth and -the ear; "friend," by shaking hands with oneself; "we," by pointing at -oneself, at the persons addressed, and vaguely to the left to indicate -people in general; and "joined together," by opening the hands, and -then bringing them together closed. A most interesting sign is that -representing "Christ," where a finger is pressed into the palm of each -hand in rapid succession, as if to indicate the piercings of the nails -of the cross; and scarcely less remarkable is that which denotes the -"Church"—the motions being those of one ringing church bells!</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 300px;"><a href="images/077a-700.png"><img src="images/077a-300.png" width="300" height="413" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"KNOWLEDGE."</p></div> - -<p>Excellent as these photographs are, they convey but a slight -impression of the effect produced by a sermon in Mr. Gilby's -gesture-language. It -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page70" id="page70"></a>[pg 70]</span> -must be understood that his is no laborious art. Distinct and -picturesque as Mr. Gilby's motions are, they succeed one another with -the rapidity of words penned by an expert shorthand writer. On one -occasion, indeed, Canon Wilberforce—one of the most fiery orators of -the day—addressed our deaf and dumb congregation, and Mr. Gilby, who -stood by the side of the eloquent Canon to interpret the discourse, -experienced no difficulty in keeping level with him. It will thus be -seen that, as practised by an expert, the art of gesture-language -leaves little room for improvement. As a matter of fact, the sentence -given above would be "signed" by Mr. Gilby, in the course of an -ordinary pulpit address, in about three seconds.</p> - -<p>Needless to say those signs that are to be expressive of themselves -require to be of the most suggestive nature in order to be readily -understood, and it is in the invention of these that the teacher of -the deaf and dumb may find a great field for the exercise of his -ingenuity.</p> - -<p>In a great number of cases there are signs which are universally -accepted and understood by deaf mutes the world over. On the other -hand, each school has its own special gestures, equally expressive but -peculiar to itself, and in the department of versatility of gesture -Mr. Gilby is second to none. In fact, I have seen him express an idea -in half a dozen ways, and each one of them could have been interpreted -with ease by a half wit.</p> - -<p>In the majority of cases the photographs illustrating the gestures -have been taken in an entirely novel way.</p> - -<p>By making several exposures on one plate we have sought to illustrate -the various movements composing those gestures which are of a -composite description. Where a word or idea is expressed by a single -sign, this is, of course, unnecessary. One photograph is -all-sufficient.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 300px;"><a href="images/077b-680.png"><img src="images/077b-300.png" width="300" height="436" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"CONVERSATION" (OPENING AND SHUTTING FINGERS AS THE MOUTHS OF BIRDS CHATTERING).</p></div> - -<p>It may possibly occur to many that there might be considerable -difficulty in conveying a difference of expression in the same idea; -that is to say, the difference indicated in spoken language by a mere -variation of inflection in the voice. As a matter of fact, the sign -language is even more expressive in this particular. An excellent -illustration of this is given in two photographs on page 71. Both -gestures express the same idea—a parting between two friends. In the -first of the two you have the parting in which there is a little -sadness. The idea of separation is conveyed by the hand leading the -other away. That it is a matter of regret is shown by the expression -of the face and the nod of the head.</p> - -<p>In the second photograph of the pair you still have the parting. This -time, however, it is a humorous rendering which might be used with -happy felicity at the conclusion of a platform speech, where the -speaker wished to convey a sort of "Well, I'm sorry to go, but I -must," notion. Here the separation is humorously expressed by the -suggestion of brute force brought to bear on the speaker's collar.</p> - -<p>In similar fashion many inflections may -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page71" id="page71"></a>[pg 71]</span> -be given to the same idea, and with the indispensable assistance of -facial expression the elements of Hope, Tragedy, Comedy, Fear, are -introduced.</p> - -<p>The extraordinary mobility of Mr. Gilby's features must prove of the -utmost service to him. With a scarcely perceptible quiver of the -features his face expresses alternate Tragedy and Humour. So much so, -indeed, that one feels that he is throwing his whole nature into each -and every fleeting gesture. And this is probably the secret of his -success, for to this pale-faced, highly strung man the cause of the -deaf mute is as life itself.</p> - -<p>The education of the deaf and dumb is necessarily limited, though the -general impression that they are deficient in mental capacity is -entirely erroneous. On the contrary, brightness, intelligence, and, -curiously enough, content are their chief characteristics. Such -educational limitations as exist are an unavoidable result of the -tedious and trying system that must be gone through in order to give a -deaf and dumb child even the rudiments of an education.</p> - -<p>If you wish to teach such an one what a cow is and how to spell the -word, there is only one method, and that is to place a picture of a -cow before it and write the word on paper till it comprehends that the -letters C O W represent the name of the animal in question.</p> - -<p>It will be seen, therefore, that only those who have enjoyed very -exceptional educational advantages are in a position to appreciate -some of the deeper abstract ideas of philosophy and the sciences.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a href="images/078a-1200.png"><img src="images/078a-600.png" width="600" height="410" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"PARTING."</p></div> - -<p>Abstract ideas are difficult of adequate expression, therefore, not -because they cannot be suggested by the sign language, but by reason -of the reader's own inability to comprehend their significance. Some -of the more general ideas of an abstract nature are, however, taught -with comparative ease. We give two examples. Both are almost -self-explanatory. The first (on p. 70) expresses Knowledge, or Wisdom; -the second (p. 67) is a sign demonstrative of Justice. Nothing could -be clearer, of course. It is simply a mimetic illustration of the -symbolical picture of Justice blind, and so impartial, holding the -scales. The right hand is first placed in the position of holding the -scales, and is then rapidly brought down on a level with the other, -thus picturing the scales.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;"><a href="images/078b-700.png"><img src="images/078b-300.png" width="300" height="424" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"STUPIDITY" (THE ASS).</p></div> - -<p>Two other pictures illustrate signs of a peculiarly expressive nature. -Nobody will want to be told what a deaf and dumb man means who -describes you with the sign shown below. The lower picture on the -preceding page is Mr. Gilby's way of expressing the fact that he has -been holding a conversation with someone. It will be noticed that -there are two positions of the forefinger, which are intended to -indicate that this finger is snapped rapidly against the thumb. It is -more or less a humorous way of expressing the idea, and as actually -illustrated by Mr. Gilby is exceedingly comic. A more sedate way of -expressing the idea would be to hold the hands in the same position, -but to draw them slowly apart and towards each other.</p> - -<p>I feel that no article on this subject would be complete without some -special illustration of the enormous part pure facial expression plays -in Mr. Gilby's peculiar method. Indeed it is in his case a fine art, -and must represent an enormous increase in the effectiveness of -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page72" id="page72"></a>[pg 72]</span> -his addresses and lectures, and consequently in the happiness and -comfort they give his silent audiences.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a href="images/079a-1000.png"><img src="images/079a-600.png" width="600" height="608" alt="" /></a> - -<p class="center">"LET ME THINK. HAD IT ON THE TIP OF MY TONGUE. NOW, WHAT WAS IT!"</p></div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"><a href="images/079b-1000.png"><img src="images/079b-500.png" width="500" height="409" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">AH! WAIT! "NO! I GIVE IT UP."</p></div> - -<p>Five photographs illustrative of a little lapse of memory explain -better than any words what I mean. Without strict attention to -grammar, I will call this Forgetfulness, More Forgetfulness, Most -Forgetfulness, Still more Forgetful, Forgotten.</p> - -<p>This series will be an object lesson on the debt we all owe that -fleeting, intangible thing we call Human Expression.</p> - -<p>No article is complete without its story. Mr. Gilby is full of -stories, but I have only space for one, and that looks weak on paper -when I remember how inimitably it was acted when he gave it to me.</p> - -<p>Some time since he was due to give a short address in the schoolroom -under the church. The Vicarage adjoins the sacred edifice, and he -therefore decided it was unnecessary to change the light indoor shoes -he was wearing in his study. Accordingly he wore them on the platform -downstairs and commenced his address.</p> - -<p>A few moments later he happened to quote the text in which the words, -"I cast my shoe," occur. Now obviously the best sign for the -expression of this idea was a gentle kick. Mr. Gilby gave it, but the -demonstration proved much more literal than he had intended, for a -second later his shoe flew through the air and dropped in the midst of -an immensely amused audience.</p> - -<p>The story emphasises Mr. Gilby's belief that humour is, and always -should be, a valuable ally in the higher education of the deaf and -dumb.</p> - -<p>It is an infallible means of securing that closer understanding and -sympathy between teacher and pupil which raises teaching from the dull -mechanical level of routine to a fine art.</p> - -<p>Humour in his case is a natural gift—perhaps one of his greatest. It -peeps out unbidden in his sermons. It renders his lectures and -addresses delightful to deaf, dumb, and hearing visitors alike, and -one cannot but feel that in all the many branches of his work it turns -sadness into sunshine and depression into an unfaltering hope for the -future.</p> - -<p>The scope of this article on St. Saviour's Church does not permit of -our entering upon the hotly-contested methods of educating the deaf, -whether by the lips or by manual signs or spelling. Mr. Gilby is one -of the Government Inspectors of Schools, and, having been born of deaf -parents, and brought up amongst the afflicted, may reasonably be -presumed to have a right judgment in these matters. For himself, he is -an ardent upholder of the Combined System—often known as the American -way of instructing the deaf. He differs in toto from any who may think -that Missions to the Deaf are unnecessary, for by learning speech they -are raised to the same level as their more fortunate brethren who can -hear.</p> - -<p>In conclusion I cannot repay Mr. Gilby's courtesy and kind assistance -in the preparation of this article better than by repeating the wish I -feel to be nearest his heart:—</p> - -<p>If you have an opportunity, help the Deaf and Dumb.</p> - -<p class="author"><span class="sc">Alfred Arkas</span>.</p> - -<hr class="medium" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page73" id="page73"></a>[pg 73]</span></p> - -<h2><span class="spaced1 wsp">THE CHANCELLOR'S WARD.</span><br /><br class="b30" /> - -<span class="less2"><span class="sc">Perhaps Mr. Richard Marsh's Best Short Story.</span></span></h2></div> - -<p class="centern1"><i>Illustrated by F. H. Townsend</i>.</p> - -<h4>I.</h4> - -<p><span class="dropcap">O</span>NE really ought to write, She married him, not, He married her.</p> - -<p>"The simple question is, my dear Tommy, are you going to take me or -leave me?"</p> - -<p>This was in Hyde Park. They were seated on one of those seats which -are in front of the police station. Neither of them ought to have been -there. Which, of course, was one of the reasons why they were. Mr. -Stanham turned his eyeglass full upon Miss Cullen. Perhaps he thought -that that was sufficient answer. Anyhow, she went on—</p> - -<p>"In other words, are you going to marry me, or are you not?"</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 370px;"><a href="images/080-800.png"><img src="images/080-370.png" width="370" height="471" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"'ARE YOU GOING TO MARRY ME, OR ARE YOU NOT?'"</p></div> - -<p>"I am; Gad, I should rather hope so. I say, don't be too hard upon a -fellow, Frank."</p> - -<p>"Call me Fanny, don't call me Frank! Don't you know that my name is -Frances, sir, which has absolutely no connection with Frank!"</p> - -<p>"That's all right, old man."</p> - -<p>That's what Mr. Stanham murmured. Extraordinary how some men do talk -to women nowadays, even to the women whom they love!</p> - -<p>"Then, if you do intend to marry me, Mr. Thomas Stanham, you'll be so -good as to do so on Thursday morning next before noon."</p> - -<p>Mr. Stanham began to scratch the gravel with his stick.</p> - -<p>"And get seven years' penal."</p> - -<p>"Stuff! They don't give you penal servitude for marrying wards in -Chancery. It's contempt of court."</p> - -<p>"Yes, I know. Have to wash out your cell at Holloway, and stand at -'attention,' with your hat off, while the governor cuts you dead."</p> - -<p>"Then perhaps you will be so good as to tell me what it is that you do -propose to do. Do you imagine that you are the sort of person the -court of Chancery will ever allow to marry me?"</p> - -<p>"Haven't so much imagination, my dear Frank."</p> - -<p>"Call me Fanny, not Frank! You are not to call me Frank. Then do you -suppose that I'm the sort of girl who's willing to wait, and not marry -her sweetheart, until she's twenty-five? Because if you suppose -anything of that kind, we must be perfect strangers."</p> - -<p>"It's very good of you, I'm sure."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I daresay. You don't love me that much." Miss Cullen flicked her -parasol. "Because a horrid old uncle chooses to say that I'm to be a -ward of the court until I'm five and twenty, am I to be a spinster all -my life? If you loved me the least little bit, you'd invite the Lord -Chancellor to come and see you marry me in the middle of Hyde Park, -even if, directly the deed -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page74" id="page74"></a>[pg 74]</span> -was done, he had your head cut off on Tower Hill."</p> - -<p>"Thanks, dear boy."</p> - -<p>Of course he married her. On the morning of the specified Thursday she -went out for a stroll, and he went out for a stroll, and they met at -the registrar's, and, as she put it, the deed was done. And, when the -deed was done, she went home to lunch, and he went, not home to lunch, -but to a private place, where he could swear. Now here they were, both -of them, at Tuttenham. They encountered each other on the doorstep. -She said, "How do you do, Mr. Stanham?" And he said, "How do you do, -Miss Cullen?"</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 460px;"><a href="images/081-1000.png"><img src="images/081-460.png" width="460" height="441" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"THEY ENCOUNTERED EACH OTHER ON THE DOORSTEP."</p></div> - -<p>"Nice way in which to have to greet your own wife," he told himself, -having reached the comparatively safe solitude of his own apartment.</p> - -<p>Then the Duke got him into his own particular smoking-room. The Duke -was in an armchair. Mr. Stanham stood before the fireplace with his -hands in his pockets. The talk wandered from Dan to Beersheba. Then, a -good deal <i>à propos des bottes</i>, the Duke dropped what he evidently -intended to be taken as a hint.</p> - -<p>"If you take my advice, young man, you'll keep clear of Frances -Cullen. She's here."</p> - -<p>Mr. Stanham winced.</p> - -<p>"Is she? Yes. I know. I met her on the steps."</p> - -<p>"Did you!" The Duke eyed him. He, not improbably, had observed the -wince. "Warnings are issued all along that coast. Steer clear."</p> - -<p>"What do you think they'd do to a man if he were to marry her?"</p> - -<p>"Do to him! Tommy! I hope you're not meditating such a crime. She's -not an ordinary ward of the court, any more than she's an ordinary -millionaire."</p> - -<p>"So I suppose."</p> - -<p>"You had a little run with her in town. Everybody had their eyes on -you, as you're aware. And when the Duchess told me she was coming, I'd -half a mind to write and put you off—fact! This is not a house in -which even tacit encouragement can be offered to a dalliance with -crime. Not"—the Duke puffed at his pipe—"not that she's half a bad -sort of girl. She's clever. Very pretty. And she's got a way about her -which plays havoc with a man."</p> - -<p>"Much obliged to you, I'm sure."</p> - -<p>"What do you mean?"</p> - -<p>"For saying a good word for my wife."</p> - -<p>"Your wife?"</p> - -<p>"Mrs. Thomas Stanham—<i>née</i> Cullen."</p> - -<p>"Tommy!—You don't mean it!"</p> - -<p>"You can bet your pile I do,—and then safely go one better. I've got -a copy of the marriage certificate in my pocket, and I rather fancy -that she's got the original document in hers."</p> - -<p>"You—young blackguard!"</p> - -<p>"Sort of cousin of yours, aint I, Datchet? It's all in the family, you -know. Blackguard, and all."</p> - -<p>"How did you do it?—And when?—And who knows?"</p> - -<p>"Only you and me, and the lady. That's what's weighing on my mind. -What's the good of having a wife, if she ain't your wife—or, at any -rate, if you daren't say that she's your wife, for the life of you?"</p> - -<p>The Duke suddenly rose from his seat. He seemed to be in a state of -actual agitation.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page75" id="page75"></a>[pg 75]</span></p> - -<p>"Tommy, do you know that the Chancellor -is coming here?"</p> - -<p>"Who?"</p> - -<p>"The Lord Chancellor. The carriage went to meet him an hour ago. I -expect him every moment."</p> - -<p>Mr. Stanham looked a trifle blank.</p> - -<p>"I didn't know the ministry was formed."</p> - -<p>"It's formed, but it's not announced; Triggs is to be the Chancellor."</p> - -<p>"And what sort of gentleman may Triggs be, when he's at home?"</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 300px;"><a href="images/082-800.png"><img src="images/082-300.png" width="300" height="374" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"'YOU—YOUNG BLACKGUARD!'"</p></div> - -<p>"Sir Tristram? Well!" The Duke was walking up and down the room. He -appeared to be reflecting. "He's rather a queer card, Triggs is. He's -been a bit of a wildish character in his time—and they do say that -his time's not long gone. He has a temper of his own—a nasty one." -Pausing, the Duke fixedly regarded Mr. Stanham. "I should say that -when Triggs learns what you have done, he will clap you into gaol, and -keep you there, at any rate until Miss Cullen ceases to be a ward of -the court."</p> - -<p>Mr. Stanham's countenance wore a look of dire consternation.</p> - -<p>"No! She's to be a ward until she's twenty-five, and she's not yet -twenty-two."</p> - -<p>"Then, in that case, I should say that, at the very least, you are in -for three good years of prison. My advice to you is——"</p> - -<p>The Duke's advice remained unuttered. Just at that moment the door was -opened. A servant ushered in a new-comer.</p> - -<p>"Sir Tristram Triggs."</p> - -<p>The Duke, striding forward, held out both his hands.</p> - -<p>"Sir Tristram!—And how long is it to be Sir Tristram?"</p> - -<p>The other shrugged his shoulders.</p> - -<p>"For a few hours, more or less, I suppose. I don't know much about -this kind of thing. I daresay I shall know more about it when I've -done."</p> - -<p>"When you've done? May that not be for many and many a year! Allow me -to introduce to you a friend of mine,—Mr. Thomas Stanham."</p> - -<p>Sir Tristram turned. For the first time, he appeared to notice Mr. -Stanham.</p> - -<p>Physically, the new, great man was short, and inclined to ponderosity. -The entire absence of hair upon his face served to accentuate its -peculiar characteristics. It was a square face,—and, in particular, -the jaw was square. His big eyes looked from under a penthouse formed -by his over-hanging brows. As one looked at him, one instinctively -felt that this was a man whom -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page76" id="page76"></a>[pg 76]</span> -it would be safer to have as a friend than an enemy. As he turned, a -faint smile seemed to be struggling into existence about the corners -of his great mouth. But, directly his glance alighted upon Mr. -Stanham, that smile vanished into the <i>ewigkeit</i>. He looked at him -very much as a bull-terrier might look at a rat. And he said, in a -tone of voice which seemed fraught with curious significance—</p> - -<p>"I have had the pleasure of meeting this gentleman before."</p> - -<p>On his part, Mr. Stanham regarded Sir Tristram with a supercilious air -which, perhaps unconsciously to himself, was only too frequently seen -upon his face,—as if Sir Tristram were an inferior thing.</p> - -<p>"I'd no idea that your name was Triggs."</p> - -<p>The Duke, standing behind Sir Tristram, clenched his fists, and glared -at Mr. Stanham as if he would like to have knocked him down.</p> - -<p>It happened, shortly afterwards, that Miss Cullen left her bedroom to -come downstairs. As she went along the corridor she met a gentleman -who was being conducted by a servant, probably, to his own apartment. -The gentleman was Sir Tristram Triggs. When Sir Tristram saw Miss -Cullen, and Miss Cullen saw Sir Tristram, they both of them stopped -short. The great man's complexion was, normally, of a ruddy hue. At -sight of the lady he turned the colour of a beetroot, boiled. She drew -herself up to the full capacity of her inches. And she uttered a -single monosyllable.</p> - -<p>"You!"</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 330px;"><a href="images/083-700.png"><img src="images/083-330.png" width="330" height="468" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"'YOU!'"</p></div> - -<p>That was all she said—then went sweeping on.</p> - -<p>"That horrid man!—He here!—To think of it!—If I'd only known that -he was coming, I do believe, in spite of Tommy, that I'd have stayed -away."</p> - -<p>At the foot of the stairs Miss Cullen encountered Mr. Stanham. That -gentleman had, as he was wont to have, his hands in his pockets. Also, -as he was not wont to have, he had a face as long as his arm.</p> - -<p>"I say, Frank, old man, isn't there somewhere where I can have a word -or two with you on the strict 'Q.T.'?"</p> - -<p>"Certainly—the library. There's never a soul in there."</p> - -<p>One would not like to libel Tuttenham so far as to say, with Miss -Cullen, that the only tenants the library ever had were the books. -But, on that occasion, it did chance that the pair had the whole place -to themselves. Mr. Stanham perched himself on a corner of the table, -still with his hands in his pockets.</p> - -<p>"There's going to be a pretty kettle of fish, dear boy."</p> - -<p>That was what the gentleman observed.</p> - -<p>"My dear child, what do you mean? What is the matter?"</p> - -<p>"The Lord Chancellor's here."</p> - -<p>"No!—How do you know?"</p> - -<p>"Datchet just introduced me to him."</p> - -<p>"Oh, Tommy, I say, what fun!"</p> - -<p>With a little laugh, the lady clapped her hands. She appeared to be -gifted with a keener eye for comedy than Mr. Stanham.</p> - -<p>"I don't know what you call fun. It happens that the new Lord -Chancellor is a man who, I have good reason to believe, would give a -tidy trifle for a chance of getting his knife into me."</p> - -<p>"Whatever for?"</p> - -<p>"I'll tell you the story. Last year, when I was at Canterstone for the -shooting, I was placed next to a man whom I had never seen in my life, -and whom I never wanted to see in my life again. -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page77" id="page77"></a>[pg 77]</span> -What Charlie asked him for, beats me. I believe, if he knew one end of -a gun from the other, it was as much as he did know. I doubt if there -ever was his ditto as a shot. I wiped his eye over and over again. I -kept on doing it. I couldn't help it—I had to. He never hit a bird. -But he didn't like it, any the more for that. We had something like a -row before the day was over. I fancy that I said something about a -barber's clerk. Anyhow, I know I walked off there and then."</p> - -<p>"You nice, agreeable child! It's my opinion that all you men are the -same when you are shooting—missing links. And, pray, what has this -pleasant little sidelight on the sweetness of your disposition got to -do with the new Lord Chancellor?"</p> - -<p>"Only this,—the new Lord Chancellor's the man I called a barber's -clerk."</p> - -<p>"Tommy! How horrible!"</p> - -<p>"It does seem pretty lively. You should have seen how he looked at me -when Datchet just now introduced us. Unless I am mistaken in the -gentleman, when this little affair of our's leaks out, and I'm brought -up in front of him, and he sees who I am, he'll straightway consign me -to the deepest dungeon, and keep me there, at any rate as long as he's -Lord Chancellor. It's only a cheerful little prophecy of mine. But you -mark my words, and see."</p> - -<p>"My poor, dear boy! Whatever shall we do?"</p> - -<p>"There's one thing I should like to do, and chance it;—I should like -to kick Sir Tristram Triggs!"</p> - -<p>"Kick who? Sir Tristram Triggs! Tommy! Why would you like to kick Sir -Tristram Triggs?"</p> - -<p>"That's the beggar's name."</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 350px;"><a href="images/084-750.png"><img src="images/084-350.png" width="350" height="461" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"'KISS ME! BEFORE I FAINT!'"</p></div> - -<p>"The beggar's name? Can it be that Sir Tristram Triggs is the new Lord -Chancellor?" She threw out her arms, with a gesture of burlesque -melodrama. "Tommy! Kiss me! Quick. Before I faint!"</p> - -<p>"I never saw a chap like you for kissing."</p> - -<p>"That's a pretty thing to say! Although we may be married, sir, we -have not yet been upon our honeymoon."</p> - -<p>"I'll kiss you, if you like."</p> - -<p>"Thank you kindly, gentle sir!" She favoured him with a sweeping -curtsey. "Tommy, even you have no idea of the ramifications and -complications of our peculiar situation." Mr. Stanham had removed his -hands from his pockets. They occupied a more agreeable position round -the lady's waist. "See if I don't snatch you from the lion's jaws."</p> - -<p>"Does that mean that you will help me to escape from Holloway?"</p> - -<p>"It means that you will never get as far as Holloway?"</p> - -<p>"Am I to die upon the road then?"</p> - -<p>"Don't talk like that, don't! You don't know what a wife you've got! -You don't know how she loves you, worthless creature that you are! -Tommy, do say that you love me, just a little bit! There, you needn't -squeeze me quite so -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page78" id="page78"></a>[pg 78]</span> -tight. I can't explain to you all about it. I will some day! There's -going to be a duel, perhaps to the death! between the Lord Chancellor -and yours to command; and if that august personage, in the figure -anyhow, of Sir Tristram Triggs, is not worsted and overthrown, I will -give you leave, sir, to say that you do not admire my taste in -dress.—Tommy, don't."</p> - -<h4>II.</h4> - -<p><span class="dropcap">A</span>FTER dinner, Miss Cullen, strolling about the great glasshouse, all -alone, came upon Sir Tristram, also all alone. Although not, probably, -more than half an inch taller than the gentleman, she looked, yes, -down at him, as if, comparatively, he were but an insect at her feet.</p> - -<p>"Well, Sir Tristram, what amends do you propose to make to me?"</p> - -<p>"Miss Cullen?"</p> - -<p>"Sir?"</p> - -<p>She looked at him; and this famous lawyer who had been more than a -match for the <i>olla podrida</i> of the law courts, and the champions of -the political ring, quailed before a young girl's eyes.</p> - -<p>"I fear, Miss Cullen, that I fail to apprehend your meaning."</p> - -<p>"Is it possible that you are an habitual desecrator of that law which -you have sworn to uphold, and that, therefore, the details of your -crimes are apt to escape your memory? More than three months have -elapsed since you committed your crime. So far as I know, you have not -sought as yet to take advantage of any occasion to offer me -atonement."</p> - -<p>Sir Tristram faced round to her with something of the bull-dog look -which had come upon his face when he had found himself in front of Mr. -Stanham.</p> - -<p>"May I inquire, Miss Cullen, why you -go out of your way to use language of such -extravagant exaggeration? It would be -gross absurdity, amounting almost to -prostitution of language, to call the offence -of which I was guilty, if it was an offence, -a crime."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps it is because you are a -lawyer that you are unaware that not so -very long ago a man was sentenced to six -months' imprisonment for exactly the same -thing."</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 330px;"><a href="images/085-720.png"><img src="images/085-330.png" width="330" height="459" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"'THAT FOR THE CHANCELLOR!'"</p></div> - -<p>Sir Tristram fidgeted. He seemed not to have complete control over his -tongue.</p> - -<p>"Miss Cullen, I trust that I may never be found lacking in respect to -a lady. If I have been so unfortunate as to have offended you, I -proffer you my most sincere apologies, and I humbly entreat for your -forgiveness."</p> - -<p>Miss Cullen remained, obviously, wholly unmoved.</p> - -<p>"When a criminal expresses his contrition, is he held, by so doing, to -have sufficiently purged himself of his offence?"</p> - -<p>"What is it that you require of me?"</p> - -<p>"I am told that you are to be the new Lord Chancellor. I am a ward in -chancery."</p> - -<p>"I learn the fact with the greatest pleasure."</p> - -<p>"Do you? Then your pleasure bears a strong resemblance to my pain. I -am to remain a ward till I am twenty-five."</p> - -<p>"Indeed?"</p> - -<p>Sir Tristram began to rub his hands.</p> - -<p>"Yes,—indeed! I had an objectionable -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page79" id="page79"></a>[pg 79]</span> -uncle who was so foolish as to suppose that I could not be a better -judge of my own life's happiness than—a number of elderly gentlemen."</p> - -<p>"Hem!" Sir Tristram coughed.</p> - -<p>"If I was willing to overlook your offence—" Sir Tristram smiled—"I -should require a <i>quid pro quo</i>."</p> - -<p>"And what, my dear Miss Cullen, would be the nature of the <i>quid pro -quo</i>?"</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 300px;"><a href="images/086-760.png"><img src="images/086-300.png" width="300" height="377" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"'WELL, OLD MAN, HAVE YOU HAD IT OUT WITH TRIGGS?'"</p></div> - -<p>"I should want you to consent to my marrying."</p> - -<p>"To consent to your marrying?—Ah!—I see!—If the matter is laid -before me in due and proper form—it is possible that you have a -certain individual in your mind's eye whom you are willing to make the -happiest of men—and I was satisfied that he was a fit, and a proper, -person, and every care was taken to safeguard your interests—then, my -dear Miss Cullen, nothing would give me greater pleasure than to give -my consent to your being happily launched on what, I fear, is, too -often, the troubled sea of marriage."</p> - -<p>"That's not the sort of thing I want at all."</p> - -<p>"No? Then what is the sort of thing you want, may I inquire?"</p> - -<p>The young lady tapped her foot against the floor. For the first time, -she seemed to be not entirely at her ease.</p> - -<p>"The fact is, I'm married already."</p> - -<p>"Married—already?—With the consent of the court?"</p> - -<p>"Bother the court!"</p> - -<p>"Young lady!—Are you aware who it is to whom you are speaking?"</p> - -<p>"I am perfectly aware. I am speaking to the person who kissed me -against my will."</p> - -<p>"Miss Cullen!—I'm the Chancellor!"</p> - -<p>"That for the Chancellor!"</p> - -<p>She actually snapped her fingers in his face. He seemed to be -speechless; though, perhaps, he only seemed so. When he did speak, it -was as if he were suffering positive pain.</p> - -<p>"I find myself unable to believe that you are capable of realising the -position in which I stand, the position in which you stand, too. -Personal misusage I might endure. But, in this matter, I am -impersonal. Take care! I represent, in my poor person, the majesty of -English law."</p> - -<p>He turned as if to go. If he supposed that he had crushed her, he was -very much mistaken.</p> - -<p>"Is that your last word, Sir Tristram?"</p> - -<p>"Miss Cullen, it is my last."</p> - -<p>"Then, now, be so good as to listen to my last word. The Duke of -Datchet is a magistrate. I will go straight to him, and demand from -him a warrant for your arrest."</p> - -<p>"A warrant, for my arrest? Girl!"</p> - -<p>"I presume that it is because I am a girl, that you are enough of a -man, first to assault, and then to bully me."</p> - -<p>Taking out his handkerchief, Sir Tristram applied it to his brow.</p> - -<p>"Am I mad, or you? Are you utterly impervious to any sort of reason?"</p> - -<p>"Not more than you are. I have yet to learn that, because you are Lord -Chancellor, you cannot be made to answer for your crimes, exactly like -any other criminal. Forgive my husband, forgive me, whose only crime -has been that we love each other, and who have not offended in the -sight either of heaven or of earth, and I will forgive you, who have -offended in the sight of both. Decline to do so, and, unless there is -one law for the great and another for the small, in which case the -world shall hear of it, I promise that you shall learn, from personal -experience, what it means to go to gaol."</p> - -<p>Sir Tristram looked about him, as if he wondered why the earth did not -open to swallow her. He seemed to gasp for breath.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page80" id="page80"></a>[pg 80]</span></p> - -<p>"Miss Cullen, I beg that you will not suppose, that, under any -possible circumstances, I could listen, even for a single instant, to -what, to me, are your hideous insinuations. But one possible solution -I do see to the painful situation in which you stand. If the person -whom you have illicitly and improperly married—"</p> - -<p>"Not improperly married, how dare you!"</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 430px;"><a href="images/087-900.png"><img src="images/087-430.png" width="430" height="467" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"'HER BEHAVIOUR FILLED ME WITH PROFOUND AMAZEMENT.'"</p></div> - -<p>"In the eyes of the court, Miss Cullen, certainly, in the eyes of the -court. Hear me out. If this person should prove to be a fit and a -proper person, of good character, of due position, and so forth, then, -taking all the circumstances into consideration, I might be moved to -leniency. What is the person's name?"</p> - -<p>"He is of the highest lineage."</p> - -<p>"So far, so good."</p> - -<p>"He is a gentleman of the noblest character."</p> - -<p>"Still better."</p> - -<p>"He would be showing honour to any lady in the land if he made of her -his wife."</p> - -<p>"Hem! Precisely! I asked you for his name."</p> - -<p>"Thomas Stanham."</p> - -<p>"Thomas Stanham!" Sir Tristram's countenance went as black as a -thundercloud. "Thomas Stanham!" He turned to her with a look of fury -on his face which took even Miss Cullen by surprise. "That vagabond!"</p> - -<p>"How dare you speak so of my husband, sir?"</p> - -<p>"Your husband? Girl, you are a fool! You, the owner of prospective -millions, have thrown them, even before they are in your actual -possession, into the lap of that pitiful adventurer. You ask me to -show him leniency? I will be lenient to you at least. I will protect -you from him, in spite of yourself."</p> - -<p>He spoke with a degree of dramatic intensity which threw a lurid light -upon the cause of his success in life. Miss Cullen was silenced after -all. She stood and watched him as he strode away, with a degree of -dignity in his bearing which seemed to have suddenly made him taller.</p> - -<p>"Tommy must have wiped his eye!"</p> - -<p>That was what she said to herself when she was alone.</p> - -<p>"Well, old man, have you had it out with Triggs?"</p> - -<p>Turning, Miss Cullen found that Mr. Stanham had approached from -behind. He stood in the doorway—as usual, with his hands in his -pockets.</p> - -<p>"Yes, young man, I've had it out with Triggs."</p> - -<p>Miss Cullen had a little flush on her cheeks, and an added light in -her eyes, which superfluities, it might be said, unjustifiably -heightened her attractions.</p> - -<p>"Softened his adamantine breast?"</p> - -<p>"Well, hardly. Not what you might call quite. In fact, I should say -that, if he remains in his present frame of mind, he will send you, -for a certainty, to something much worse than penal servitude for -life."</p> - -<p>"Is that so? Very kind of you, I'm sure. I knew you'd make a mess of -it, my love."</p> - -<p>"Wait till the play is over. There's always a muddle in the middle. -The third act has not begun."</p> - -<h4>III.</h4> - -<p>"Triggs, this is the deuce of a nice state of things!"</p> - -<p>The latest ornament of the woolsack was seated in the privacy of his -own apartment prior to retiring to rest. But the cares of his position -had followed him there. He was working his way through a mass of -papers when his host appeared at the door.</p> - -<p>"To what state of things does Your Grace refer?"</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page81" id="page81"></a>[pg 81]</span></p> - -<p>The Duke looked round as if to make sure that they had the room to -themselves. He seemed to be in a state of considerable agitation; -indeed, the abruptness of his entry had in itself suggested agitation.</p> - -<p>"Of—of course you know that I—I'm a magistrate."</p> - -<p>"Certainly I know it."</p> - -<p>Something in the other's tone seemed to have a soothing influence upon -the Duke, possibly because it roused the spirit of mischief that was -in him. He sat in an armchair. Crossing his arms upon his chest, -stretching out his long legs in front of him, he regarded the toes of -his evening shoes.</p> - -<p>"Triggs, I have had an application made to me for a warrant for your -arrest."</p> - -<p>The Chancellor went a peony hue, as we have seen him do before.</p> - -<p>"Your Grace is joking."</p> - -<p>"I wish I were. I found it anything but a joke, and I am afraid that -you are not likely to find it one either."</p> - -<p>Sir Tristram removed his glasses. He held them in his hand. His face -became hard and stern.</p> - -<p>"May I ask Your Grace to be more explicit?"</p> - -<p>The Duke turned. Placing one elbow upon the arm of his chair, he -looked at Sir Tristram as he leaned his chin upon his hand.</p> - -<p>"Triggs, Miss Cullen has applied to me to issue a warrant against you -for assault."</p> - -<p>"Surely such an application was irregular."</p> - -<p>"I am not so sure of that, I am not so sure. Anyhow, I told her that -it was. The only result of which, so far as I can judge, will be that -she will make the application, in more regular form, either to me, or -to someone else, to-morrow. But that is not the point. Triggs, did you -do it?"</p> - -<p>"Is it necessary that Your Grace should ask me?"</p> - -<p>"You didn't kiss her?"</p> - -<p>Sir Tristram took out his handkerchief. He actually gasped for breath. -It is to be feared that at that moment the representative of English -law almost told a lie. However, it was only almost; not quite. He -merely temporised.</p> - -<p>"The whole affair is a pure absurdity."</p> - -<p>"How do you mean? Is the charge unfounded?"</p> - -<p>Sir Tristram drew his handkerchief across his brow.</p> - -<p>"Supposing I did kiss her."</p> - -<p>"Supposing! Triggs? Good heavens! I remember your leading for a woman -who brought exactly such a charge against a man. I remember how -clearly you pointed out how, under certain circumstances, such an -action might be, and was, an offence against good morals. Didn't -Pickum give the man six months?"</p> - -<p>The lawyer's resemblance to a bull-dog became more and more -pronounced. He all but showed his teeth.</p> - -<p>"I don't know, Duke, if you are enjoying a little amusement at my -expense."</p> - -<p>The Duke sprang to his feet. His bearing evinced an accession of -dignity which, in its melodramatic suddenness, almost approached to -farce.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 320px;"><a href="images/088-700.png"><img src="images/088-320.png" width="320" height="457" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"AN AMAZING RESEMBLANCE TO A SMILE."</p></div> - -<p>"It is not my habit, Sir Tristram, to regard my magisterial duties as -offering much scope for amusement. Situated as I am—as you are—as we -all are—our -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page82" id="page82"></a>[pg 82]</span> -party!—in the eyes of the nation, it seems to me that this matter may -easily become one of paramount importance. Of such importance that I -have come to you as a friend, to-night, to ask you, if there is a -chance of Miss Cullen's charge becoming so much as whispered abroad, -to seriously consider if it would not be advisable for you to place -your resignation in the hands of the Prime Minister before your -appointment to the Chancellorship is publicly announced."</p> - -<p>Sir Tristram's jaw dropped open. His resemblance to a bull-dog -perceptibly decreased.</p> - -<p>"Duke!"</p> - -<p>"I am not certain, in coming to-night, that I have not allowed my -friendship for you to carry me too far. Still, I have come."</p> - -<p>"Your Grace is more than sufficiently severe. If you will allow me to -exactly explain my position in this matter, I shall have no difficulty -in making that evident. I fear that Miss Cullen is a dangerous young -woman."</p> - -<p>The Duke shrugged his shoulders.</p> - -<p>"You, of all men, ought to know that, under certain circumstances, -women are dangerous—and even girls."</p> - -<p>"Precisely. That is so. But, I think that, after I have made my -explanation, you will allow that Miss Cullen is an even unusually -dangerous example of a dangerous sex." He paused—perhaps for -reflection. When he continued, it was with a hang-dog air. "Some short -time since I did myself the honour of asking Miss Cullen to become my -wife. I fear that—eh—circumstances induced me to take her answer too -much for granted. So much so, indeed, that—eh—while I was waiting -for her answer, I—eh—I—eh—kissed her. I do not wish to lay stress -upon the accident that the kiss was but the merest shadow of a kiss. -But such, in fact, it was."</p> - -<p>"In plain language, Triggs, you kissed her against her will."</p> - -<p>"I had no idea that it was against her will, or I should certainly not -have done it. Her behaviour after—eh—my action, filled me with the -most profound amazement. She jumped up. She addressed me in language -which I can only describe as more pointed than elegant. And—eh—she -walked away, leaving me, I do assure Your Grace, dumbfounded."</p> - -<p>"Well?"</p> - -<p>The Duke's back was turned to Sir Tristram, possibly because there was -something on His Grace's face which bore an amazing resemblance to a -smile.</p> - -<p>"Well, I heard nothing more of the matter. Indeed, I have heard and -seen nothing of the lady till I met her here to-day. This evening she -has alluded to the matter in a manner and in terms which filled me -with even more profound amazement than her behaviour on -the—eh—original occasion."</p> - -<p>"But, man, didn't you apologise?"</p> - -<p>"I apologised in terms of almost abject humility. But that did not -content her. I will be frank with Your Grace. She made me a -proposition which——"</p> - -<p>The Duke waved his hands. He cut Sir Tristram short.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 400px;"><a href="images/089-860.png"><img src="images/089-400.png" width="400" height="465" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"SHE LOOKED CHARMING."</p></div> - -<p>"I have heard too much already. Triggs, I have allowed my friendship -for you to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page83" id="page83"></a>[pg 83]</span> -play havoc with my discretion, let me hear no more. My advice to you -is compromise, compromise, at almost any cost. You don't want to have -your career ruined by a girl, and for the mere shadow of a kiss. To -consider nothing else, think of the laughter there would be. As you -say, the young woman can be dangerous, and, if nothing happens to -change her purpose, you may take my word for it that she means to be."</p> - -<p>Before Sir Tristram could reply, the Duke was gone. The newly -appointed representative of the majesty of English law was left alone -with his papers and his reflections. These latter did not seem to be -pleasant ones. Words escaped his lips which we should not care to -print;—we fear they referred to that undutiful ward of his lordship's -court. Inwardly, and, for the matter of that, outwardly, he cursed her -with bell, book, and candle; certainly never was heard a more terrible -curse. And, so thoroughly did he enter into the spirit of the thing, -that he was still engaged in cursing her when the door opened, and in -front of him was Miss Cullen with the handle in her hand.</p> - -<p>She looked charming, and by that we mean even more charming than -usual. She had changed her dress for a <i>peignoir</i>, or a dressing-gown, -or something of the kind. Beyond question Sir Tristram had no notion -what the thing was called. It suited her to perfection—few men had a -better eye for that sort of thing in a woman than he had. There is no -fathoming feminine duplicity, but no one ever <i>looked</i> more surprised -than did that young woman then. She had thrown the door wide open and -rushed into the room, and half closed it again behind her before she -appeared to recognise in whose presence and where she really was.</p> - -<p>"I—I thought—isn't this Mary Waller's room? Oh—h!"</p> - -<p>As struck with panic she turned as if to flee. But Sir Tristram, who -was gifted, before all else, with presence of mind, interposed. He -rose from his chair.</p> - -<p>"Miss Cullen, may I beg you for moment?"</p> - -<p>"Sir! Sir Tristram Triggs!" Miss Cullen's air of dignity was perfect, -and so bewitching. "I had something which I wished to say to Lady Mary -Waller. There has been some misunderstanding as to which was her room. -I must ask you to accept an apology."</p> - -<p>"Unlike you, Miss Cullen, I always accept an apology."</p> - -<p>"Indeed. Then my experience in that respect has, I presume, been the -exception which proves the rule."</p> - -<p>"May I ask when you apologised to me,—and for what?"</p> - -<p>"This evening—," the lady looked down; her voice dropped; thrusting -the toe of her little shoe from under the hem of her skirt, she tapped -it against the floor—"for becoming a wife."</p> - -<p>The grim man behind the table regarded her intently. Although he knew -that the minx was worsting him with his own weapons, she appealed to, -at any rate, one side of him so strongly, that he was unable to -prevent the corners of his mouth from wrinkling themselves into a -smile.</p> - -<p>"May I ask, Mrs. Stanham——"</p> - -<p>"Sir Tristram!" She threw out her arms towards him with a pretty -little gesture. "You have set my heart all beating! You have brought -the tears right to my eyes! You are the first person who has called me -by my married name."</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 420px;"><a href="images/090-900.png"><img src="images/090-420.png" width="420" height="459" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"'THEN I'LL KISS YOU.'"</p></div> - -<p>He moved his hand with a little air of deprecation—as if the thing -were nothing.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page84" id="page84"></a>[pg 84]</span></p> - -<p>"May I ask, Mrs. Stanham, if Mr. Thomas Stanham is related to the Duke -of Datchet?"</p> - -<p>"Related?—Of course he is!—He's his favourite cousin."</p> - -<p>"His <i>favourite</i> cousin?" We doubt if she was justified in her use of -the adjective, but, the simple truth is, she <i>was</i> a dangerous young -woman. "I see. The plot unfolds. May I ask, further, if this little -comedy was rehearsed in advance?"</p> - -<p>"And in my turn, may I ask, Sir Tristram, what it is you mean?"</p> - -<p>They looked at each other, eye to eye. They understood each other -pretty well by the time Sir Tristram's glance dropped down again to -the papers on his table. His tone became, as it were, judicial.</p> - -<p>"Well, Mrs. Stanham, I have been considering the matter of which you -spoke to me this evening, and, having regard to the whole bearing of -the case, to the social position of Mr. Thomas Stanham, and so forth, -speaking, of course, <i>ex parte</i>, and without prejudice, I may say -that, as at present advised, if proper settlements are made, the -marriage might be one which would not meet with the active -disapprobation of the court."</p> - -<p>Sir Tristram raised his eyes. The lady shook her head—very decidedly.</p> - -<p>"That won't do."</p> - -<p>"Won't do?—What do you mean?"</p> - -<p>"What I say. I'm not going to have Tommy bothered about settlements. -I'm settlement enough for Tommy. What you have to do is to sit down -and to simply write this: 'My dear Mrs. Stanham,—Speaking as Lord -Chancellor, it gives me much pleasure in assuring you, as a ward of -the court, that your marriage with Mr. Thomas Stanham meets with my -entire and unreserved approval.—Yours faithfully, Tristram Triggs!'" -Sir Tristram glowered—he might! But she was undismayed. "You will -have to do it, sooner or later—you're a very clever man, and you know -you will!—so why not do it at once?"</p> - -<p>He did it at once. Actually! Possibly because the whole affair -appealed keenly to his sense of humour,—one never knows! She read the -paper, folded it, and then she said—with such a pout! and with such -malice in her eyes!—</p> - -<p>"Now you may kiss me again; if you like."</p> - -<p>"I am obliged to you; but the costs in -the suit have already been too heavy."</p> - -<p>"Then I'll kiss you!"</p> - -<p>And she did—with some want of precision, just over the right eye. -Then she fled to the door. When she was half-way through it, she -turned, and waved towards him the hand which held the paper.</p> - -<p>"You are my guardian, you know."</p> - -<hr class="medium" /> -<!-- 5 --> -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 606px;"><a href="images/091-1000.png"><img src="images/091-600.png" width="606" height="327" alt="" /></a> -<h3 style="margin-top: -2.8em;">THE QUEEN'S BODYGUARD.</h3></div> - -<hr class="medium" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page85" id="page85"></a>[pg 85]</span></p> - -<h2 class="spaced1 wsp">SOME COSTLY PETS.</h2></div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"><a href="images/092-1000.png"><img src="images/092-400.png" width="400" height="567" alt="" /></a> -<p>1. Mr. S. Woodiwiss's short-haired English tabby, -"Champion Zenophon" (worth £100). 2. The Hon. Mrs. McLaren Morrison's -Persian, "Ameer" (worth £100). 3. Mrs. C. Hill's short-haired blue, -"Patrick Blue" (worth £50). 4. Madame Portier's long-haired blue, -"Blue Boy" (worth £100). 5. Mrs. L. G. Leverson's Siamese, "Rynda" -(worth £30). 6. Miss G. Willoughby's chinchilla long-haired, "Zaida" -(worth £160). 7. Miss G. Willoughby's Siamese, "Fulmer Banjo" (worth -£50). 8. Mrs. Herring's "Champion Jemmy," English silver tabby (worth -£100). 9. Hon. Mrs. McLaren Morrison's long-haired black, "Satan" -(worth £100).</p></div> - -<hr class="medium" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page86" id="page86"></a>[pg 86]</span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a href="images/093a-1000.png"><img src="images/093a-600.png" width="600" height="80" alt="Music: Bugle Call" /></a> -<p class="center">Music (BUGLE CALL SUMMONING THE COOKS TO GET THE MEN'S GROG -FOR THE DAY.)</p></div> - -<h2><span class="spaced1 wsp">HOME LIFE ON BOARD A MAN-OF-WAR.</span><br /><br class="b30" /> - -<small>DESCRIBED BY ONE WHO HAS LIVED THERE.</small></h2></div> - -<p><span class="dropcap">T</span>O the majority of Englishmen the phrase "Life on board a Man-of-War" -calls up pictures of smart gun-drill, tactical exercises, and other -more or less irksome though necessary duties. Few people indeed have -any cognizance of the way in which our bluejackets live their daily -life and how they manage to amuse themselves in the spare time at -their disposal during the three years afloat, which is the usual -period of a seagoing ship's commission.</p> - -<p>Jack is awakened at 5 a.m. in summer and 6 a.m. in winter by the loud -blare of a bugle under his hammock, and the hoarse voices of the -bosun's-mates shouting "Show a leg there. Arise and shine, 'rise and -shine. All ha- - - - - -nds lashupandstowhammocks." Having lashed his -bedding in his hammock in the regulation manner, by taking seven turns -round it with his hammock-lashing, he has his breakfast, for which -meal he is allowed half an hour.</p> - -<p>He then works and drills more or less continuously until noon, with -the exception of 15 minutes' "stand easy" at 8 a.m., when he is -allowed to smoke, and to go down to his mess and eat and drink if he -feels so inclined.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 400px;"><a href="images/093b-900.png"><img src="images/093b-400.png" width="400" height="486" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center"><i>Photo. R. Thiele & Co.</i></p> - -<p class="center">SERVING OUT JACK'S GROG (12.30).</p></div> - -<p>At noon the ship's company is "piped to dinner."</p> - -<p>Noon is the dinner hour of our navy right throughout the world, and -though things have greatly changed since the introduction of steam and -the torpedo, the navy still retains the "bosun's pipes" of the days of -Nelson. No sooner is the shrill pipe sounded than there is an excited -rush of men to the cook's "galley," whence arises a cloud of odorous -steam redolent of baked meats, vegetables, and baked and boiled -"duffs" (so dear to the naval heart of all ages), which are to feed -the 600 or 700 odd hungry men just released from work.</p> - -<p>Men going on watch at noon—as the Marine sentries, for example—are -allowed to fetch their dinner at "seven bells" (11.30), and sometimes -ludicrous mistakes will arise through this privilege. The men take -turns to prepare the dinner, and the cook of the mess for the day -usually fetches his mess-mates' dinner from the "galley." On one -occasion which the writer recalls, the cook was at work on deck when -the bell struck seven, and could not get away. Several of his -mess-mates (he was a Marine Artillery man) having to go on watch at -noon, proceeded to the "galley" in quest of their dinner, and "fisted" -(seized) a savoury dish they -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page87" id="page87"></a>[pg 87]</span> -imagined to be theirs, without first examining the brass mess-number -on the side thereof. The dinner was divided and eaten, and the plates -were being washed up, when a group of excited bluejackets, having -questioned every other mess in the ship, made their way to No. 19 mess -and hungrily demanded their dinner.</p> - -<p>The Marines had taken the wrong one, but offered their own in -exchange. Search at the "galley" failed to produce the missing meal, -which was eventually discovered stowed away beneath a wash-tub under -the Marines' mess-table, uncooked. The absent-minded cook for the day, -who was much taken up with a song of his own composition, entitled "A -Barrack-room Dinner," which he was to sing at a forthcoming -entertainment, had, in his contemplation of the visionary meal he was -to sing of, forgotten to take the actual dinner to the galley, and -there it lay in the mess in all its uncooked glory.</p> - -<p>After a somewhat heated discussion, the Marines appeased the -bluejackets by paying for a dinner of corned beef and pickles from the -canteen, and thought they had heard the last of the matter; but the -sailors had determined to pay the "Joeys" in their own coin, and did -so a few days later, when the ship's company, being at "collision -quarters," the Marines' messes were emptied of all their inmates. A -party of bluejackets was stationed with the diving apparatus on the -main-deck near the Marines' messes, and in the party were several who -had suffered the loss of their dinner. It was 4 p.m., and noticing a -large "plum-duff" on the table, evidently intended as a delicacy for -tea, they pounced on it to a man. When the Marines came down in hungry -expectation, behold! there was but an empty dish.</p> - -<p>Dinner time lasts an hour and a quarter, and at "one bell" (12.30) the -bugle-call for grog—"Nancy Dawson," as it is nick-named—summons the -cooks to the grog tub.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 500px;"><a href="images/094-1000.png"><img src="images/094-500.png" width="500" height="307" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center"><i>Photo. R. Thiele & Co.</i></p> - -<p class="center">TEETOTAL SAILORS RECEIVING CASH INSTEAD OF RUM.</p></div> - -<p>The bugle-call, which is unknown even to army men, is given on the -previous page.</p> - -<p>Each man above the age of eighteen is allowed half a pint of grog, -usually mixed in the proportion of one part of rum to three of water, -and hence familiarly termed "three water"; and the number of -half-pints due to each mess is served out to the cook of that mess for -the day. The cooks stand <i>à queue</i> in the numerical order of their -messes, the mess whose turn it is to pump the grog-water for that day -(the messes take daily turns at so doing, petty officers' mess -excepted) standing first "on tally," and the grog is served out by a -petty officer and the Marine sergeant of the guard, under the -supervision of a warrant officer and the ship's steward, who, book in -hand, checks off the number of pints allotted to each cook.</p> - -<p>The grog-tub is usually decorated with some loyal motto worked in -brass, a first favourite being "The Queen, God bless Her."</p> - -<p>A large proportion of men, thanks to the praiseworthy exertions of -that true friend of Naval mankind, Miss Agnes Weston, are teetotalers; -and these men, together with the boys under 18, are allowed -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page88" id="page88"></a>[pg 88]</span> -money instead of rum at the rate of one penny one day and three -farthings the next alternately. This is paid them once a quarter -(monthly in harbour ships) by the paymaster in exactly the same manner -in which the entire ship's company receive their ordinary pay.</p> - -<p>The dinner-hour, too, is a convenient time for the sale of dead or -"run" men's effects.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 500px;"><a href="images/095-1000.png"><img src="images/095-500.png" width="500" height="403" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center"><i>Photo. R. Thiele & Co.</i></p> - -<p class="center">AN AUCTION—SELLING A DESERTER'S CLOTHES.</p></div> - -<p>When a man has absented himself without leave for seven days he is -officially posted a deserter, and any clothes, uniform, &c., he may -have left behind him are sold by auction to the highest bidder, the -proceeds going to the Government.</p> - -<p>Jack Tar, like a great number of his social superiors, does not -believe in giving a paternal Government any more than he can -conveniently help; and many a great bargain does he pick up at these -sales. For instance, a white duck tunic, such as the master-at-arms is -holding up for inspection in our illustration, and which costs Jack -4s. to 5s., will start at 3d. and slowly mount up to 6d. or 8d., -beyond which sum the bidding seldom rises.</p> - -<p>At 1.15 p.m., dinner being over, on ordinary week days the bugle -sounds "Clean Guns," and work recommences; but on Sundays and -Thursdays (known to the bluejacket as "Spun-yarn Sunday") the ship's -company are granted an afternoon of rest.</p> - -<p>As soon as dinner time is over the bosun's mate pipes the sufficiently -obvious pipe "Hands make and mend clothes"; and, as Jack makes all his -own wearing apparel, he is not slow to take advantage of the time -allowed him.</p> - -<p>In fine weather the men bring their machines on deck and smoke and sew -together. Every conceivable kind of needlework does Jack execute -equally well. And not only the rank and file, but the petty officers -also are glad to make their own clothes rather than buy them ready -made; and though Jack is generally a self-taught tailor, he turns out -far smarter work than the slop-shops. The difference is very obvious -if one compares a bluejacket wearing uniform "built" by his own deft -fingers, with one who is wearing a suit bought at some "Naval -Outfitter's."</p> - -<p>The men have the forward part of the upper deck to themselves, the -petty officers having the space further aft set apart for them; but -this advantage is not without its little drawbacks. Witness an -incident experienced by the writer.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 500px;"><a href="images/096-1000.png"><img src="images/096-500.png" width="500" height="464" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center"><i>Photo. R. Thiele & Co.</i></p> - -<p class="center">JACK AS TAILOR—MAKING AND MENDING HIS CLOTHES.</p></div> - -<p>He was seated by a ventilator playing chess—a favourite game—with a -comrade. The fleet was about to enter Vigo, and a heavy sea was -running, drenching the fo'c'sle and the other side of the deck, but -leaving the space where the players were seated dry as a bone. They -were just congratulating themselves on their comfortable quarters, -when the ship, suddenly altering course to make the entrance to the -bay, slewed round to port, and a heavy sea came neatly in and caught -them as they sat. Chessmen, board, and players went suddenly floating -about the deck in picturesque confusion, to the great amusement of the -onlookers, who were expecting some diversion. Going below to change -his clothes—for he was wet to the skin—the writer had the bad luck -to stand directly under -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page89" id="page89"></a>[pg 89]</span> -the same ventilator, and no sooner had he donned dry clothes than -another malevolent and illfavoured sea came carefully down the -ventilator shaft and rendered him as wet again. He tenderly avoided -that ventilator during the remainder of the cruise.</p> - -<p>Thursday afternoon is the recognised time for the opening of the -mysterious and voracious "Scran-bag."</p> - -<p>On board a man-of-war tidiness is a matter of great importance, and -with a view to enforcing it an officer—on Sundays and Thursdays the -puissant captain himself—makes a tour of the entire ship at certain -hours. Woe betide the luckless man who has left out of its place the -smallest article! For when the decks are being cleared up for the -"Rounds" (as the inspection is termed), here a towel that has been -inadvertently left on a rack instead of being stowed away in its -appointed place, the kit-bag—here a book, or a coat, or a pound of -tobacco, stowed away out of sight behind a scuttle cover, and -discovered by the insinuative, far-reaching hand of the "Crusher," as -the ship's corporal is familiarly termed, a hand that has a pleasant -knack of exploring out-of-the-way nooks and corners—in short, any -article that is left about is confiscated, and placed within a huge -canvas bag, the "Scran-bag."</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 300px;"><a href="images/097a-600.png"><img src="images/097a-300.png" width="300" height="483" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center"><i>Photo. R. Thiele & Co.</i></p> - -<p class="center">A SKILFUL MACHINIST.</p></div> - -<p>Every Thursday it is opened, and there gathers around it an excited -knot of men who overhaul its contents thoroughly, a ship's corporal -standing by to see that no man claims "what isn't his'n." But before -the owner is allowed to take away his article he is mulcted in one -penny for each article, to be put in the poor-box, or else he has to -provide a piece of soap to be used in scrubbing decks.</p> - -<p>Nearly everyone has seen "Ship's tobacco" in some form or other, but -few know how the sailor prepares it for use. It is served out to him -monthly, at the same time as his soap, in packages of 1 lb., for which -he pays 1<i>s.</i> 1<i>d.</i>, being allowed it duty free. It is a dark, rich -leaf, and the first thing done is to remove the stems. This done, some -water is sprinkled on the loose leaves (the old salt will prefer rum, -to add to its strength and flavour), and the whole is enclosed in a -piece of canvas and tightly bound with twine until it assumes a -cigar-like shape, pointed at each end. Next some fine line is taken, -one end secured to the tobacco and the other made fast to some strong -support. One or two men now sit astride the line, and the tobacco is -wound round and round, the weight of the men compressing it to about -half its original bulk. When entirely covered with line it is tightly -secured, and in two or three days is ready for use.</p> - -<p>At night the men's time may fairly be considered their own. On certain -evenings fresh water is served out for the washing of clothes, for -Jack is his own washerwoman as well as tailor. That the marine is no -less handy than his sailor brother may be gathered from the fact that -the ship's cobbler usually belongs to that immensely useful branch of -the service so aptly described by Kipling as "soldier and sailor too."</p> - -<p>A number of men who are handy with razor and scissors make a good -addition to their pay by attending to the tonsorial wants of their -less gifted brethren, and shave and cut hair in a heavy sea-way with -the ship rolling and pitching all over the place as easily as they -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page90" id="page90"></a>[pg 90]</span> -do in harbour with an immovable deck to stand on.</p> - -<p>"All work and no play"—the proverb was made for Jack; and though the -bluejacket has to make his own amusement he does it as thoroughly as -he does all else he puts his hand to. Nearly every ship in the navy -has its nigger troupe or theatrical party, and some really clever -performances are given; the make-up and dress are good, and would be -no disgrace to a professional company. The fair sex, though absent, -are hardly conspicuous thereby; few uninitiated eyes would detect in -the female characters a middle-aged able-seaman or a cheeky young -ordinary.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 400px;"><a href="images/097b-900.png"><img src="images/097b-400.png" width="400" height="482" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center"><i>Photo. R. Thiele & Co.</i></p> - -<p class="center">SAILORS CLAIMING THEIR ARTICLES ON THE OPENING OF THE "SCRAN-BAG."</p></div> - -<p>A more athletic relaxation is boxing, which is—as it should be—a -favourite amusement aboard. Many a good man has the Royal Marines or -the navy supplied to the professional ring.</p> - -<p>While the men are amusing themselves in various ways their superiors -are likewise killing time, and will often indulge in cricket on the -quarter-deck, which is screened with canvas to avoid losing the ball -overboard. The game can only be played at sea, for in harbour the -quarter-deck is required for more serious work. The ball is usually a -soft tennis-ball. The officers don flannels, and many an exciting -game, such as Ward-room <i>v.</i> Gun-room, is played, and continued at -every opportunity till the match is finished.</p> - -<p>Every officer aboard takes an interest in these matches, captain and -commander often coming on deck to encourage their juniors with their -august presence, and many a match won by the navy ashore has been due -to the practice aboard. For if a man can play cricket with a sloping -and mobile deck beneath him he can surely do better on a well-rolled -pitch.</p> - -<p>On Saturday nights, on such ships as carry one, the band discourses -sweet dance-music for the delectation of the men; and these -proverbially ardent lovers of Terpsichore are true to their goddess, -even though the wind is howling great guns, and the ship rolling and -pitching in such a way that none but true sons of Neptune could even -walk upright, to say nothing of dancing.</p> - -<p>When no band is carried, a miscellaneous collection of blue-jacket and -marine musical amateurs supply the deficiency; and their music, though -not perhaps up to the standard of Mr. Dan Godfrey, amply fulfils its -requirements.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 500px;"><a href="images/098a-1000.png"><img src="images/098a-500.png" width="500" height="459" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center"><i>Photo. R. Thiele & Co.</i></p> - -<p class="center">"JACK IS HIS OWN WASHERWOMAN."</p></div> - -<p>When the ship is in harbour, leave is often allowed, and in connection -with shore-going -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page91" id="page91"></a>[pg 91]</span> -there is an interesting formality not generally known. It is one of -the most heinous crimes in the naval decalogue to attempt to smuggle -any intoxicant aboard; and to obviate such a possibility every man on -returning from shore is searched by the corporal of the gangway, a -ship's corporal standing by, book in hand, to enter the names of the -offenders in the "black list," to be dealt with next day by the -commander.</p> - -<p>The corporal of the gangway is usually an experienced Marine told off -for the duty, and under his hands it would be difficult for even the -most crafty smuggler to conceal any liquor about his person.</p> - -<p>But to the credit of our navy be it said that cases of smuggling are -extremely rare.</p> - -<p>As a general rule Jack Tar and Joe the Marine, though certainly -sometimes labouring under conditions trying to even the most -law-abiding civilian, conform to regulations and discipline with that -breezy cheerfulness and brave good-will which makes them, as they -always have been and it is to be hoped always will be, the idols of -their countrymen, the proud boast of their nation, and a standing -menace to her enemies.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"><a href="images/098b-1000.png"><img src="images/098b-500.png" width="500" height="269" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center"><i>Photo. R. Thiele & Co.</i></p> - -<p class="center">OFFICERS PLAYING CRICKET ON THE QUARTER DECK.</p></div> - -<hr class="medium" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page92" id="page92"></a>[pg 92]</span></p> - -<h2 class="wsp">CRICKET SKETCHES.<br /> - -<small><i>Two Pages by Mr. "Rip."</i></small></h2></div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;"><a href="images/099-700.png"><img src="images/099-350.png" width="350" height="510" alt="" /></a></div> -<div class="caption"> -<table summary="High points in the match-1" border="0"> -<tr> - <td class="l"> </td> - <td class="l"> </td> - <td class="r">MR. K. J. KEY—A STATELY<br /> - <span style="padding-left: 4.5em;">PROCESSION OF ONE.</span></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="l">AN UNUSUAL EXPERIENCE<br /> - <span style="padding-left: 1em;">FOR THE GREAT</span><br /> - <span style="padding-left: 1em;">ARTHUR SHREWSBURY.</span></td> - <td class="l"> </td> - <td class="r"> </td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="l">AN ELEGANT BAT—<br /> - <span style="padding-left: 1em;">MR. F. G. J. FORD.</span></td> - <td class="l"><br />"RANJI" MAKES A<br /> - BRILLIANT CATCH.</td> - <td class="r"><span style="padding-left: 1em;">LITTLE "BOBBY" ABEL</span><br /> - <span style="padding-left: 1em;">GETTING AWAY WITH</span><br /> - <span style="padding-left: 2em;">AN AWKWARD ONE.</span></td> -</tr> -</table> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page93" id="page93"></a>[pg 93]</span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;"><a href="images/100-800.png"><img src="images/100-350.png" width="350" height="514" alt="" /></a></div> - -<div class="caption"> -<table summary="High points in the match-2" border="0"> -<tr> - <td class="l"><span style="padding-left: 3em;">FIREWORKS!</span><br /> AN OVER BY MR. JESSOP.</td> - <td class="r"><span style="padding-left: 1em;">PHILLIPS, THE</span><br />INTERNATIONAL<br /><span style="padding-left: 2em;">UMPIRE.</span></td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="l">BIG TOM RICHARDSON—READY<br /> - TO KNOCK UP A BRISK DOZEN<br /> - <span style="padding-left: 6em;">OR SO.</span></td> - <td class="r"> </td> -</tr> -</table> -</div> - -<hr class="clear" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page94" id="page94"></a>[pg 94]</span></p> - -<h2><span class="spaced2 wsp">HIS SOVEREIGN REMEDY.</span><br /><br class="b30" /> - -<span class="less2">A COMEDY IN AN OMNIBUS.</span></h2></div> - -<p class="centern1"><span class="sc">By Clarence Rook; Illustrated by B. E. Minns</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="dropcap">T</span>HE gloom was gathering. Ten minutes ago the conductor had leaned from -his step, taken the lamp from some unseen hand, and stuck it up in its -place by the door. The bus lurched round the corner into Bishop's -Road. It was a Bayswater bus, and the old gentleman who was changing -his seat drove his elbow into my hat.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 350px;"><a href="images/101-700.png"><img src="images/101-350.png" width="350" height="485" alt="" /></a> -"DROVE HIS ELBOW INTO MY HAT."</div> - -<p>"Bless me! I'm always doing that. Most extraordinary! I'm sure I beg -your pardon."</p> - -<p>I told him that it was of little consequence, and another swing of the -bus seated him suddenly beside the tired-looking girl with a music -portfolio in her hand. She opened her eyes for a moment, and then -closed them again. The woman beyond shifted her baby to the other -arm—the arm furthest removed from the old gentleman—and continued to -rock it mechanically.</p> - -<p>The old gentleman evinced a restlessness which was not suggested by -his mild aspect and his white hair, though a closer examination -revealed a certain furtive look in his eyes. Four separate times he -had shifted his seat since I had taken my place in the corner next the -door at Oxford Circus. A slight irritation at his want of repose -caused me to shoot a protesting glance at him over the top of my -evening paper, for few things annoy me so much as purposeless -activity. Old gentlemen should be glad enough to sit still when they -have the chance. But I could not find it in my heart to be angry with -such a benevolent-looking old gentleman.</p> - -<p>It was just then, as my eyes were returning to my paper, that the -demon of suspicion took tentative hold upon my mind. "Why," I asked -myself, "do nice-looking old gentlemen, with white hair and shifting -eyes, want to change their place in a bus?"</p> - -<p>The suspicion came—and went, for the kindly and venerable face gave -no hold for doubt. But I laid down my paper upon my knees and leant -back in the corner to watch him, speculating whether he would change -his place again before we came to Westbourne Grove. The driver's -whip-lash sounded on the middle pane opposite to me, and the bus -slowed down to take up a passenger who, after a glance inside, mounted -to the roof.</p> - -<p>The conductor shoved his parcel up after him, pulled the string and -resumed his position against the side of the door, where, upon that -mysterious block which is kept in a receptacle over the entrance, he -was apparently making sketches of the passengers inside. Mentally -commending his diligence, I turned my eyes again to the old gentleman, -who met my glance for a moment, and seemed to deprecate my displeasure -by the lifting of his brows and a turn of his head.</p> - -<p>As the bus quickened up again, the tired-looking girl swayed slightly, -and her head sank upon the shoulder of the old gentleman. The old -gentleman glanced sideways at the closed eyes of his neighbour, and, -as a kindly smile stole over his face, his arm slid round the girl's -waist. The pair made quite a pretty picture. The conductor at my elbow -turned slightly, to get a better light upon his sketching block.</p> - -<p>And then I noticed a curious disturbance—only a momentary rise and -fall—in the dress of the sleeping girl. No one, so far as I could -tell, had moved. The girl's hands were lying in her lap, precariously -clasping her music portfolio. The disturbance occurred on the right -side of the dress, which was the side furthest from the old gentleman -in whose kindly embrace the girl lay.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width:460px;"><a href="images/102b-900.png"><img src="images/102b-460.png" width="460" height="462" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"THE TIRED-LOOKING GIRL SWAYED SLIGHTLY."</p></div> - -<p>The explanation came to me in a flash. In so sudden a flash that I -turned in the same instant to the conductor and found his sidelong -glance meeting mine.</p> - -<p>"See that?" he muttered, under the clatter of the bus.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page95" id="page95"></a>[pg 95]</span></p> - -<p>"I should think I did," I said, "he's -picked her pocket."</p> - -<p>"I've 'ad a eye on the old josser for the -last month," he said. "I'll make it a fair -cop this time. You're my witness."</p> - -<p>"Well," I said, "I'm not awfully keen -on being mixed up——"</p> - -<p>"Bit of high-spyin' now," he said. -"What's the matter with a little bit o' -high-spyin', eh?"</p> - -<p>The conductor mounted the steps to the roof. The tired girl, awakened -suddenly to her position, straightened herself and peered anxiously -through the window of the bus as though to make certain that she had -not been carried to Wormwood Scrubs in her sleep. Reassured, she -gathered up her portfolio in a firmer grasp with one hand, and with -the other searched the back of her head for errant pins.</p> - -<p>Round the edge of my paper I watched the old gentleman, whose eyes -were now fixed obliquely upon the woman on his left. I distinctly saw -his eyes travel down from the woman's face to her black cloth jacket, -and stop at the outside pocket, from which her omnibus ticket was -peeping. The pocket was on a level with, and almost touching his -elbow, and his hand, his left hand, which was resting upon his knee, -began slowly to travel towards the pocket of the tired-looking woman.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 250px;"><a href="images/102a-500.png"><img src="images/102a-250.png" width="250" height="458" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"APPARENTLY MAKING SKETCHES OF THE PASSENGERS."</p></div> - -<p>The baby was kicking, grasping at the stuffy air with crinkled -fingers, and threatened to give voice, and the tired-looking woman, -rocking more anxiously than before, looked timidly from one neighbour -to another as though in apology for the wrath to come.</p> - -<p>At that moment my glance was attracted to a point above the old -gentleman's head, where I met the eyes of the conductor, pressed close -against the window-pane. A little higher was the tip of his nose, -whitened by the pressure, and above that his stubby red moustache, -underneath which a mouth gaped with inquiry. For a moment or two I was -fascinated by the inverted face, which seemed to belong to some -other-world creature which had tumbled from extra-mundane space and -stuck fast upon the window of the Bayswater bus.</p> - -<p>The benevolent old gentleman, quite unconscious of the watchful eyes -behind his head, was regarding with a bland smile the advertisements -on the window behind me. And as my eyes fell again on the spot where I -had last seen his hand, I saw that it was not there. There never was a -more unskilful performance. For there sat the old gentleman before my -eyes, looking calmly over my head, with two fingers inserted into the -pocket of the woman who was rocking the baby. As though it knew the -wrong that was being done, the baby gave vent to the threatened yell, -and the mother, patting it, and rocking it, and speaking to it in -unknown tongues, saw nothing and felt nothing else.</p> - -<p>Suddenly, as I watched, the benevolent old gentleman dropped his eyes -from the advertisements, and mine arrested them as they fell. Never -was an old gentleman so vastly perturbed. I almost felt sorry for him; -for an aged criminal who has not learned the art of escaping detection -and is therefore hopelessly incompetent, is a pathetic sight.</p> - -<p>The omnibus stopped with a jerk just as we came within the range of -the lamps at the corner, and the old gentleman, so evil were his -deeds, seemed to shrink from the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page96" id="page96"></a>[pg 96]</span> -light. I was not quite certain of the etiquette with pickpockets. -Ought I to leap upon him then and there and to denounce him? That -would be melodramatic, I reflected; and I hate a scene; so I only -raised myself from my seat, borrowed support from the handrail above -my head, and waited upon events.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 350px;"><a href="images/103a-700.png"><img src="images/103a-350.png" width="350" height="482" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"TOWARDS THE POCKET OF THE TIRED-LOOKING WOMAN."</p></div> - -<p>The tired girl bestirred herself and looked round, the woman with the -baby changed her burden again from one arm to the other and peered -anxiously at the door.</p> - -<p>"Royal Oak," I said, answering her look of inquiry.</p> - -<p>She sank back in her seat and closed her eyes, and at the same moment -the old gentleman jumped up and shambled towards the door, while the -other passengers carefully drew in their toes.</p> - -<p>By this time I noticed that the conductor's face had detached itself -from the window. Three people had risen to leave; but the old -gentleman was first, being clearly in a hurry; and as he found himself -unable to pass me, half-standing and half-sitting, with my hand on the -overhead rail, he looked pleadingly at me, as though imploring my -silence. I hesitated a moment. It was none of my business to arrest -criminals. But I did not mind giving a passive support to the cause of -justice, so I stayed where I was. And then the conductor appeared, -blocking the doorway.</p> - -<p>"No, yer don't," he said.</p> - -<p>"My good man," began the old gentleman, "I sincerely trust I have -given no offence. I only——"</p> - -<p>"I see yer," said the conductor, looking over his shoulder towards the -public-house, and jerking his head.</p> - -<p>"Then kindly oblige me," said the old gentleman, "by not making a -fuss. If a sovereign now——"</p> - -<p>"Oh, stow it," said the conductor. "You've done it once too often, -that's what you 'ave. I see yer right enough this time, and you're -going to be give in chawge, that's what you are. Strite."</p> - -<p>The old gentleman looked helplessly round him. Impatient passengers -began to remonstrate from the step; others from the kerb.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 280px;"><a href="images/103b-600.png"><img src="images/103b-280.png" width="280" height="470" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"AS I WATCHED."</p></div> - -<p>"'Old on," said the conductor, "we're all goin' 'ome to tea."</p> - -<p>A policeman crossed from the opposite corner.</p> - -<p>"'Igher up there!" he remarked, dispassionately.</p> - -<p>"Look 'ere, constable," said the conductor, "'ere's a job in your -line." Then his tone became official. "I 'ereby give this man in -chawge for picking pockets."</p> - -<p>"Oh," said the policeman, scattering the bunch of people gathered -round the step.</p> - -<p>"I see him—and this gentleman 'ere see him," said the conductor. -"'Tain't the first time, neither. Old 'and, he is; that's what <i>he</i> -is."</p> - -<p>The doorway was now blocked by the policeman's form.</p> - -<p>"That ain't good enough for me," he said. "Any of you ladies and -gentlemen lost anything?"</p> - -<p>"I see 'is 'and in that lydy's pocket," -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page97" id="page97"></a>[pg 97]</span> -said the conductor, pointing over the constable's shoulder at the -woman with the baby. "You feel in your pocket, lydy."</p> - -<p>Then ensued a general searching of pockets, while a rival omnibus -swept by triumphantly and gathered up such passengers as were too -impatient to await the outcome of the situation.</p> - -<p>I leaned forward and said in an undertone to the girl with the -portfolio, who alone of the passengers shewed no interest in the -contents of her pocket, "You had better look in your pocket, I feel -convinced it was picked while you were asleep upon his shoulder."</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 380px;"><a href="images/104-800.png"><img src="images/104-380.png" width="380" height="476" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"'I GIVE THIS MAN IN CHARGE FOR PICKING POCKETS.'"</p></div> - -<p>"I wasn't," she said, abruptly. Then, reflecting apparently that she -was rude as well as tired, she added, "I've nothing worth stealing, -thank you all the same."</p> - -<p>In a desultory way she began fumbling in the pocket of her dress. The -old gentleman stood by the policeman. His face had grown very red; his -eyes, wandering from one passenger to another, became suddenly fixed, -and his face was redder than ever. It was sufficiently obvious that he -was very uneasy. Following the direction of his eyes, I saw the baby's -head hanging at an alarming angle over the woman's arm. The mother was -leaning towards the light and looking at the contents of her free -hand—a bus ticket, two pennies, a farthing, and a sovereign.</p> - -<p>"Now, then! lost anything, mem?" asked the conductor.</p> - -<p>"No, <i>I</i> ain't lost nothing," she began, slowly.</p> - -<p>The old gentleman nodded to her pleasantly.</p> - -<p>"Though," she continued, "I don't rightly understand why——"</p> - -<p>"I think this must belong to you, sir," said the girl with the -portfolio, suddenly, holding out a sovereign to the old gentleman.</p> - -<p>"Not at all, my dear; nothing to do with me, nothing whatever," he -said, nodding his head at her. "Old enough to be your grandfather, -too!"</p> - -<p>"Now then, what's all that?" asked the policeman.</p> - -<p>"Only this gentleman must have been putting a sovereign into my -pocket, and I insist—oh! I insist——"</p> - -<p>"Look here, constable," said the old gentleman, "can't you see that -you are embarrassing the young lady? Any little transaction between -her and me is none of your business, or anyone else's either."</p> - -<p>The old gentleman stamped impotently upon the floor of the omnibus.</p> - -<p>"He's been giving money away," said the policeman over his shoulder to -the conductor, "looks like."</p> - -<p>"And why not, why not?" said the old gentleman. "What's the good of -having money if you can't make people happy with it?"</p> - -<p>The constable looked reflectively at him.</p> - -<p>"I dunno," he said. "I'd better take your name and address."</p> - -<p>The old gentleman looked apprehensively round. Then he took a card -from his pocket and gave it to the policeman.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 450px;"><a href="images/105a-900.png"><img src="images/105a-450.png" width="450" height="488" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"'YOU GO HOME,' HE SAID."</p></div> - -<p>"Please don't read it out," he said.</p> - -<p>The policeman looked at the card, put it into his pocket-book, and -made a note in pencil. Then he swung himself off the omnibus and -looked hard at the old gentleman as he descended slowly.</p> - -<p>"You go home," he said. "You want to be took care of, you do."</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page98" id="page98"></a>[pg 98]</span></p> - -<p>The conductor stood upon the kerb with his hand on the rail, looking -after the old gentleman as he trudged off towards Royal Oak Station.</p> - -<p>"'Urry up there," said the constable. "Wastin' my time," he added, as -he turned his back.</p> - -<p>The conductor rang the bell and leaned dolefully against the stairway -as the bus started away from the dispersing crowd.</p> - -<p>The girl with the portfolio was regarding her sovereign thoughtfully, -holding it between her thumb and forefinger; then she returned it with -her handkerchief to her pocket, looked doubtfully round and blushed -slightly.</p> - -<p>The woman with the baby was biting something, which, as she caught my -eye, she hurriedly slipped into her jacket pocket. "Not that I'd be -be'olden to anybody," she remarked at large, rocking her baby with -much energy, "me 'usband earning good money, thanks be. But peliteness -is peliteness——"</p> - -<p>"You <i>may</i> think yer know yer way abart," said the conductor, looking -at me and jerking his head up and down, "but now and then you find -you're left—badly left. Now, think o' that! Droppin' sovereigns all -over the place. Well, I wish I'd a'knowed!"</p> - -<hr class="medium" /> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a href="images/105b-1000.png"><img src="images/105b-600.png" width="600" height="325" alt="" /></a> -<p class="rit"><i>Photo by Landor, Ealing</i></p> -<!-- 6 --> -<h3 class="m2">THE HEAVENLY TWINS.</h3></div> - -<hr class="medium" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page99" id="page99"></a>[pg 99]</span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"><a href="images/106b-1000.png"><img src="images/106b-600.png" width="600" height="267" alt="" /></a></div> - -<h2 class="m0">LITTLE DARLINGS.<br /><br class="b30" /> - -<span class="less2">HALF A MILLION<br /> -PHOTOGRAPHS OF CHILDREN.</span><br /> - -<small><i>Words by Somers J. Summers. Photographic Illustrations -by W. J. Byrne.</i></small></h2></div> - -<p><span class="dropcap">L</span>OCKED away in the breast of Mr. W. J. Byrne, the children's -photographer, is a secret which, when she has read this article, every -mother of children will want to know. Let it be said at once, however, -that her curiosity will have to go unsatisfied; Mr. Byrne has his -secret, and wild interviewers cannot drag it from him.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 350px;"><a href="images/106a-1000.png"><img src="images/106a-350.png" width="350" height="349" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">SUNSHINE.</p></div> - -<p>Ability to pose adults gracefully and naturally before the camera is -an accomplishment admittedly rare; in the case of children, with the -difficulties increased tenfold, it must be a gift. It is one thing to -dump a subject into a chair and obtain a likeness, another to make a -picture as well. And when a man has taken half a million photographs -of little sitters, in as many poses, he may be held to be something of -an authority on the subject. That is Mr. Byrne's record; he is to -children what Rosa Bonheur is to animals, save that he uses neither -pencils nor brush; he is a veritable artist with the camera. Some of -the examples of his skill here seen represent, it is not difficult to -realise, an infinity of painstaking and experimenting, while others -tell of patient waiting, followed by considerable alacrity at the -moment of a fleeting expression which he desired to preserve. Mr. -Byrne's method is very simple; one half of his secret is soon told.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 350px;"><a href="images/106c-1000.png"><img src="images/106c-350.png" width="350" height="351" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">SHADOW.</p></div> - -<p>"Photographing children," he says, "is charming work, but it can never -be successful so long as the customary relations between them and the -photographer exist. They usually enter a studio with much the same -sort of feelings as they do a dentist's. They should be made to feel -at home before the business side of their visit is reached. Instead of -being at once placed in the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page100" id="page100"></a>[pg 100]</span> -'operating' chair, they should be allowed to wander about, if old -enough, at their own sweet wills and in any case become accustomed to -their strange surroundings. Wild gesticulations, promises of -chocolates, stories of 'the little bird,' and orders to 'keep like -that,' only serve to produce expressions of wonder and fear. -Personally I let the child amuse itself with new toys, and either -pretend to take no notice, or else join in the game. This may go on -for half an hour. Meanwhile, an attendant is quietly focussing an -almost concealed camera, and when the child begins to prattle, I wait -for an unconscious and happy expression, then snap goes the shutter, -and the thing is done.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px; clear: both;"><a href="images/107a-800.png"><img src="images/107a-450.png" width="450" height="523" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center"><span style="float: left;">"WHO IS THAT LITTLE FELLOW?"</span><span style="float: right;">"I DON'T LIKE HIM!"</span></p></div> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 350px;"><a href="images/107c-800.png"><img src="images/107c-350.png" width="350" height="378" alt="dog in boot" /></a> -</div> - -<p class="space-above3">"Every child's face is beautiful to at least one pair of eyes. The -features may not be symmetrical, the eyes may be small and dull, but -the charm of childhood does not lie entirely in facial beauty. It is -the coy smile and the quaint expression that a parent prizes most. And -it is these characteristics that a photographer should aim to catch. -Mothers often make the mistake of rehearsing the sitting at home. It -is even better not to mention the matter in the presence of the little -one; it is usually much more satisfactory if the visit is a surprise -one as far as the child is concerned. It is also unwise to dress the -young sitter in unaccustomed clothes or to warn it to be good. For -general work, my rule about posing children is, 'Never pose them at -all.'"</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 300px;"><a href="images/107b-800.png"><img src="images/107b-300.png" width="300" height="374" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"QUEEN OF HEARTS."</p></div> - -<p class="space-above2">Mr. Byrne's studios are veritable toy-shops, containing everything -from a jumping frog to a model of an Atlantic liner. Indeed, Mr. Byrne -has given a big firm of toy-dealers a standing order to send anything -new that comes in the market. Antiquarians will learn with a pang that -the dear old Noah's Ark is going the way of all flesh. British -children will have none of it. They refuse to look pleasant for less -than a little bicycle with rubber tyres, or a miniature motor-car with -real boilers—at least when they go to be photographed.</p> - -<p class="space-above2">So much, then, for how Mr. Byrne's "happy" results are produced; what -about his "unhappy" ones? Both are well represented here. Take the -first pictures, Sunshine and Shadow. What caused the inquisitive -little fellow in the first to find the world all dark and so little of -interest in life a few seconds later?</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 250px;"><a href="images/108a-800.png"><img src="images/108a-250.png" width="250" height="313" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"RATHER SLOW, THIS!"</p></div> - -<p class="space-above2">It must have been something wholly unexpected, for it effected much -the same change in his companion's countenance. Was it a pin-point -gently insinuated between the shoulder blades, or a cold sponge -dexterously applied to the little spine?</p> - -<p>That is what mothers would like to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page101" id="page101"></a>[pg 101]</span> -know. Mr. Byrne says, with a smile, that it was neither—that the -expression was a purely natural development. But will the mothers of -England believe him?</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px; clear: both;"><a href="images/108b-1000.png"><img src="images/108b-500.png" width="500" height="329" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">UNHAPPY LITTLE PEOPLE.</p></div> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 400px;"><a href="images/109a-800.png"><img src="images/109a-400.png" width="400" height="478" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"WHAT DOES ALL THIS MEAN?"</p></div> - -<p class="space-above2">There is, too, the case of the little boy gazing so intently into a -hand-glass; what did he find hidden in its depths to make him suddenly -cast it aside, and turn to where the photographer is presumably -standing, with such a look of mingled disappointment and disgust? His -discovery was evidently remarkable, for, as will be seen, it had the -additional effect of taking his fore-lock out of curl. Again Mr. Byrne -is appealed to, and again he smiles and vouchsafes the same reply. And -again the mothers of England will have their suspicions.</p> - -<p class="space-above2">In photography, as in many another profession, the path of those who -would forsake the beaten track does not lie through acacia groves. -Many obstacles strew the way. For instance, Mr. Byrne conceived the -notion of posing children in a big boot, such as appears in two of the -accompanying reproductions. It is a simple-looking boot, yet it took -two years to make; that is to say, the day the order was given, and -the day it was satisfactorily carried out, were separated by a span of -such duration. But much happened in between. First of all Mr. Byrne -made a rough design of what he wanted, giving the dimensions, etc., -and sent it, through a friend, to a local bootmaker. Perhaps, not -anxious to have his idea noised throughout camera-land, Mr. Byrne's -instructions were not as explicit as they might be; it was the time of -the dynamitard outrages, and the worthy artist in leather grew -suspicious. What might his customer want with such a boot? it was most -unusual; he had never heard of a man with such a large foot; and why -only <i>one</i> boot? He didn't like such peculiar orders, but he would do -what he could in the matter; of course it would cost a goodish sum. As -to whether the poor man had nightly visions of the strange boot being -filled with infernal machines and placed under the -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page102" id="page102"></a>[pg 102]</span> -House of Commons, and himself charged by the State with aiding and -abetting the plot, no reliable information is forthcoming, but -certainly, after two months had elapsed, he sent word to say that he -found the work more difficult than he had anticipated, and that unless -the one-legged individual, for whom the boot was apparently intended, -could call and be measured in the ordinary way, he must regretfully -throw up the job. A carpenter was next tried, but with little more -success. The boot actually did come home, after a time, but it was -large enough for six children to lose themselves in, instead of -comfortably accommodating one. At this stage it occurred to Mr. Byrne -that one of the Drury Lane "property" men, used to tailoring for -pantomime giants and other unusual creatures, would be able to make a -boot a little bit out of the common without being too inquisitive as -to its mission in life. So it finally arrived, a beautiful creation, -fit for any Brobdingnagian dandy, and redolent of Day and Martin. But -Mr. Byrne wanted a dilapidated boot; to save further trouble, however, -he proceeded, with the aid of a pocket knife and an old hatchet, to -dilapidate it himself.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 330px;"><a href="images/109b-1000.png"><img src="images/109b-330.png" width="330" height="476" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">LITTLE MISS PENSIVE.</p></div> - -<p>It was much the same with the egg appearing herewith. It was tried in -canvas, wood, and papier-maché before the more serviceable aluminium -produced a "lay" that any pantomime bird might be proud of. Both the -boot and the egg have done yeoman service since. They have assisted in -producing something approaching a thousand photograph-pictures.</p> - -<p>When Mr. Byrne had shown that the novel could be blended with the -artistic in child photography, would-be imitators were not slow to -appreciate the innovation. Photographers wrote from all parts of the -country to inquire where Mr. Byrne obtained his "properties"; they -would like to add duplicates to their own studios. Guileless Mr. Byrne -replied in each case—"From America."</p> - -<p>It would be as difficult for Mr. Byrne to say how he came to make a -spécialité of child photography as it would to explain what led him to -take to the camera at all. He practically drifted into both.</p> - -<p>"My life," he says, "might almost be described as one long drift. -Although I was born in Ireland, I entered the Italian army, for some -reason no one, not even myself, has ever been able to explain, when I -was fifteen years of age. I fought in the Austro-Franco-Italian -campaign of 1859, being one of the only two Britishers engaged in the -war. The other was the late Colonel Peard. Like him, I was present at -the great battles of Magenta and Solferino, and like him I several -times came near ending my career on the plains of Lombardy.</p> - -<p>"When the war was over, and there seemed no prospect of -another, I drifted away from the colours, back to London, and into the more peaceful -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page103" id="page103"></a>[pg 103]</span> -occupation of portrait making. Photography was in its infancy in those -days; and I can only presume that I took kindly to it because I had -always been something of an artist, which was of considerable -advantage to me in my new profession. After a while I discovered that -I secured happier results with children than was usual, probably -because, being naturally fond of them, I devoted more care and -attention to them than was customary, for child sitters were rare -then, and photographers were apt to regard them as rather bad -bargains, notwithstanding the higher fees charged."</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 350px; clear: both;"><a href="images/110a-700.png"><img src="images/110a-350.png" width="350" height="473" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">LITTLE DAMES IN FANCY FRAMES.</p></div> - -<p>It is not surprising to learn that Mr. Byrne has "snapped" nearly all -the little English royalties; his studios being located at Richmond in -Surrey, he has frequently been summoned to the White Lodge and Windsor -Castle, not to mention more distant royal seats. Regarding juvenile -princes and princesses, Mr. Byrne has something interesting to say.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 300px;"><a href="images/110b-650.png"><img src="images/110b-300.png" width="300" height="460" alt="LITTLE DAMES IN FANCY FRAMES.-2" /></a></div> - -<p>"Royal children have charming and simple ways, and it is usually an -easy matter to establish friendly relations with them. That once -accomplished, photographing always becomes a pleasure. They are just -as fond of new toys as other children, just as eager for a romp, -frequently more so. Indeed, I have more than once had to 'play -soldiers' with some of the Queen's grandchildren while waiting for -them to reach a sitting-still mood."</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 350px;"><a href="images/110c-700.png"><img src="images/110c-350.png" width="350" height="506" alt="baby in a Moses basket" /></a></div> - -<p>Perhaps much of Mr. Byrne's success is due to the fact that -photography is not merely his profession; it is his hobby as well. He -is constantly devising new and novel poses, both for his private -sitters and the child-models he employs. When a mother calls at the -studio with her bairn, she is shown numerous bulky volumes, veritable -picture galleries of children in almost every conceivable attitude, -and invited to choose which she would prefer for her own little one's -portrait. Bewildered by such a display, she usually elects to leave -the choice to the photographer, and she is invariably wise; for the -pose that shows to perfection the characteristic beauty of one child -may be quite unsuitable for another. A trained eye notices these -things as quickly as a practised artist can tell whether a certain bit -of scenery is "paintable" or not. One of Mr. Byrne's child-models must -be the most photographed little person in the country, for she has -figured in no fewer than two thousand studies. To show the variety of -these, a page herewith is devoted to a composite reproduction of the -little model in some of her happiest poses. The sweet child, it might -be mentioned, is the daughter of Mr. Byrne's laundress.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page104" id="page104"></a>[pg 104]</span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px; clear: both;"><a href="images/111-700.png"><img src="images/111-350.png" width="350" height="527" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">A CHILD MODEL—SOME OF HER HAPPIEST POSES.</p></div> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page105" id="page105"></a>[pg 105]</span></p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 300px;"><a href="images/112a-730.png"><img src="images/112a-300.png" width="300" height="407" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">SOMEBODY'S NEST-EGG.</p></div> - -<p class="space-above3">Mr. Byrne has three "Don'ts" for mothers who would secure speaking -likenesses of their little ones. Don't let the little one know -beforehand that it is going to a studio. Don't dress it in any costume -to which it is unaccustomed. Don't endeavour to arrange its hair; this -will look better if allowed to fall naturally.</p> - -<div class="figright" style="width: 300px;"><a href="images/112c-880.png"><img src="images/112c-300.png" width="300" height="334" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">BUILT FOR ONE.</p></div> - -<p class="space-above2">It must not be supposed, however, that the subject of this article is -a photographer of children only. Between them, eighty-nine exhibitions -in various parts of the world have awarded him something like a -quarter of a hundredweight of medals for exhibits of all kinds, while -he has also photographed nearly every adult member of our royal family -and innumerable celebrities. In this branch of his work, however, Mr. -Byrne has to content himself with the artistic, and leave the novel -severely alone. For the Prince of Wales, considerate sitter though he -is, would hardly consent to have himself "caught" in an old boot, or -Sir Ellis Ashmead Bartlett, though he does much to amuse his fellow -members of Parliament, permit himself to be represented emerging from -an aluminium egg. So the "properties" have to be laid aside at times.</p> - -<div class="figleft" style="width: 300px;"><a href="images/112b-750.png"><img src="images/112b-300.png" width="300" height="391" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">"I DON'T LIKE PHOTOGRAPHERS!"</p></div> - -<p class="space-above2">"The Queen," says Mr. Byrne, "is one of the best sitters in the world, -very rarely moving or spoiling a plate. That abomination of all -studios, the head rest, is quite unnecessary in Her Majesty's case. -The Prince of Wales takes quite a keen interest in photography -himself, and when sitting will go to considerable personal trouble in -order that the results may be successful. The Prince will get together -a royal group where anyone else would fail. The German Emperor is a -most genial sitter; but his pose before the camera is apt to be rather -stiff, and his expression somewhat stern. Nearly every royal sitter, -in fact, has some peculiarity which one finds it one's task to -moderate without destroying altogether."</p> - -<p class="space-above2">But we are no nearer Mr. Byrne's secret. How were the "unhappy" -pictures obtained? Stories are told of fond mothers, waiting in -anterooms, being horrified to suddenly hear piercing shrieks -proceeding from the studio. Breathlessly they have dashed in, to find -Mr. Byrne all smiles, baby all tears. When the proofs came home, the -picture showing baby crying was generally voted wonderfully lifelike, -even if it was not selected for general distribution.</p> - -<p class="space-above2">These strange rumours are referred to, and once again Mr. Byrne is -appealed to to withdraw the veil; but yet again he smiles and replies -as before. Which reply, it is to be feared, the mothers of England -will accept with the customary condiment.</p> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page106" id="page106"></a>[pg 106]</span></p> - -<hr class="clear" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px; padding-top: 5em;"><a href="images/113-top-1000.png"><img src="images/113-top-600.png" width="600" height="211" alt="POISON" /></a></div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px; clear: both;"><a href="images/113b-800.png"><img src="images/113b-400.png" width="400" height="500" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center">POISON</p></div> -<div class="caption"> -<table summary="poison devices" border="0"> -<tr> - <td class="l1">POISONED RING.</td> - <td class="l1"> </td> - <td class="r1"> </td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="l1"> </td> - <td class="l1"> </td> - <td class="r1">POISONED GLOVES.</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="l1">POISONED SWORD.</td> - <td class="l1"> </td> - <td class="r1"> </td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="l1">POISONED HOCKEY STICK.</td> - <td class="l1"><br />POISONED SHIRT.</td> - <td class="r1">POISONED DAGGER.</td> -</tr> -<tr> - <td class="l1">POISONED BOOTS.</td> - <td class="l1"> </td> - <td class="r1">POISONED BOWL.</td> -</tr> -</table> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page107" id="page107"></a>[pg 107]</span></p> -<div class="figparts"> -<a href="images/114-1000.png"><img src="images/114a-700.png" width="700" height="130" alt="decoration" class="devices" /></a> -<a href="images/114-1000.png"><img src="images/114b-100.png" width="100" height="132" alt="decoration" class="devices1" /></a></div> - -<div class="container"> -<div class="center_right"> -<div id="heading"><p class="large">DEVICES</p></div> -<div class="content2"><p class="description-right">CONCEIVED BY THE GRIM AND GHASTLY<br /> -<span style="padding-left: 1em;">INGENUITY OF OUR FOREFATHERS.</span></p></div></div></div> - -<div class="whole"><a href="images/114-1000.png"><img src="images/114-700.png" width="700" height="274" alt="devices" /></a></div> - -<p class="top5"><span class="dropcap">T</span>HE ingenuity of man in devising schemes to perpetuate life has almost -been equalled by his ingenuity in framing devices to abridge it. In -all ages there have been men who hated convention, even conventional -murder. When they desired to remove an enemy secretly, they had -recourse to poison; but not to ordinary schemes of poisoning. They -made it an art.</p> - -<p>An interesting device, very palpably suggested by the famous shirt of -Nessus, is that given on the opposite page. The shirt was charged -within with poison of great acerbity, which so acted upon the skin of -its wearer as to inflame and then blister with incredible malignity, -until the victim died in horrible agonies.</p> - -<p>Various hypotheses have been put forward with respect to the history -of the shirt we illustrate, which is now in an American museum; but -there seems every reason to believe that it is the garment mentioned -in a German work of the 15th century by Adolph Beckert, as having been -exhumed with the body of a Greek military captain, with an inscription -to the effect that, having been guilty of gross insubordination, -amounting to treason, he was ordered to denude himself of his garments -in the presence of the soldiers, and don the fatal tunic.</p> - -<p>Of equal, if not greater antiquity, was the device in vogue among the -Tartar princes.</p> - -<p>When a prince desired to dispatch an inconvenient subject, he was -invited to a game of hockey, participated in by the various nobles, -officers and officials of the Court. The Royal Chamberlain always took -good care that the technical miscreant should play with a special -stick, within whose jewelled hilt lurked the deadly poison. But even -the drug would have been scarcely sufficient to destroy life if there -had not been also concealed in the handle a number of microscopic -needle points which, tiny as they were, and almost unobserved at the -first handling, were quite sufficient after a few minutes' play to -puncture the skin.</p> - -<p>In this connection we may advert to the vast number of swords and -daggers extant whose tips were impregnated with poison; these are to -be found in many museums in Europe. There are not a few even in our -own Scotland Yard. Although legitimately poison devices, they betray -little ingenuity.</p> - -<p>The pair of gauntlets shown on the opposite page are said to have been -the property of a great foreign political notability. Once well on the -hands of the victim, a species of gum, with which the interior was -lined, adhered with such tenacity to the flesh that it was next to -impossible to remove the gloves, except by cutting them away; and even -then the gum remained impervious to water, or of solution, until -inflammation was succeeded by festering, and unless amputation of the -whole arm followed, death inevitably ensued.</p> - -<p>Several deaths from the wearing of poisoned boots have been recorded, -notably that of Andre Nolofski, courier to the Russian Empress -Catherine the Great, who was discovered some nine miles from Moscow, -lying prone dead on the side of the road, with apparently not a mark -of disfigurement, until someone removed his boots. Then a surgeon -discovered that tiny poisoned needles had pierced his feet.</p> - -<p>Poison rings were not unknown to the Romans. A hollow duct was -contained in half the ring, from which poison was supplied to a needle -of infinitesimal size at the opposite side. The other half of the -circle enclosed a very delicate mechanism for operating the needle. -When, with a slight pressure, the hand of the enemy was clasped with -apparent cordiality and good-fellowship, it gently punctured the skin -without exciting suspicion.</p> - -<p>Another device we illustrate was in very common use amongst the -Chinese up to a century ago. It consisted of a bowl heavily coated -with a colourless soluble poison on the inside. Upon any hot liquid, -such as tea, being poured into this cup, the poison became dissolved. -As a whole service of this ware might come into the possession of one -family without suspicion, it is not difficult to credit the fact that -in spite of every precaution about food, seven or eight persons were -often exterminated by this process.</p> - -<hr class="medium" /> - -<div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page108" id="page108"></a>[pg 108]</span></p> - -<div class="center"><div class="content"> -<h2 class="boxed wsp"><span class="spaced2">OUR MONTHLY GALLERY</span><br /> -<span class="less2">OF BEAUTIFUL AND INTERESTING PAINTINGS.</span></h2></div></div></div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 360px;"><a href="images/115-900.png"><img src="images/115-360.png" width="360" height="465" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center"><i>By permission of the Berlin Photographic Co., London W.</i></p> -<p class="center">A FLOWER OF SPAIN.</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page109" id="page109"></a>[pg 109]</span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"><a href="images/116-1000.png"><img src="images/116-500.png" width="500" height="344" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center"><i>By permission of the Berlin Photographic Co., London W.</i></p> -<p class="center">"HUSH."</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page110" id="page110"></a>[pg 110]</span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 340px;"><a href="images/117-800.png"><img src="images/117-340.png" width="340" height="470" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center"><i>By permission of the Berlin Photographic Co., London W.</i></p> -<p class="center">THE FAVOURITE.</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page111" id="page111"></a>[pg 111]</span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 360px;"><a href="images/118-800.png"><img src="images/118-360.png" width="360" height="471" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center"><i>By permission of the Berlin Photographic Co., London, W.</i></p> -<p class="center">MEDITATION.</p></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page112" id="page112"></a>[pg 112]</span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 350px;"><a href="images/119-800.png"><img src="images/119-350.png" width="350" height="466" alt="" /></a> -<p class="center"><i>By permission of the Berlin Photographic Co., London, W.</i></p> -<p class="center">GOOD-NIGHT!</p></div> -<hr /> - -<div class="tn"> -<h4>Transcriber's Note</h4> - -<p>Page 14: 'busses' corrected to 'buses', though 'busses' may have been -in use in 1898, or may have been confused with fishing boats (herring -busses).</p> - -<p>"... he even saw cabs and buses with different eyes."</p> - -<p>Page 40: 'our's' corrected to 'ours' (though 'our's' may have been in use in 1898, or maybe the 'demon' apostrophe may not be so modern!).</p> - -<p>" From the American aspect, ours is dull,..."</p> - -<p>Page 56: 'Meterological' corrected to 'Meteorological'</p> - -<p>"the Meteorological Office, a Government department...."</p> - -<p>Page 78: 'ofence' corrected to 'offence'.</p> - -<p>"... to have sufficiently purged himself of his offence?"</p> - -<p>Pages 93-97: 'bluejacket' (noun) appears a number of times; blue-jacket (adjective) appears once.</p> - -<p>'workwoman' and 'work-woman' also both appear, in different stories.</p> - -<p>Numerous occurences of words which are sometimes joined by a hyphen, -and sometimes separate, also appear (e.g. 'bugle-call' and 'bugle call').</p> -</div> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Harmsworth Magazine, v. 1 -1898-1899 - No. 1, by Various - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HARMSWORTH MAGAZINE *** - -***** This file should be named 50672-h.htm or 50672-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/0/6/7/50672/ - -Produced by Victorian/Edwardian Pictorial Magazines, Lesley -Halamek, Jonathan Ingram 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 print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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