Untitled - Eagle House School | Digital Archives

THE ARMADA CAPTAINS AT T H E I R GAME OF BOWLS.
STAS,
HO. 1.
ET
IN
/ETERNUM
STES,
October, 1903.
AQUIL1NA
DOMUS.
Vol. II.
THE EDITOR'S NOTE.
E Magazine has now run a year's coming SUBSCRIBERS. The following is
course, and ia gradually begin- the list, in order of subscription received:
ning to feel its feet on firm S. B. Baddeley, Mrs. Clayton, W. Drumground. There is no doubt that mond Milliken, J. H. G. MoDougall, Mrs.
Present Boys appreciate it; they eagerly Forsyth, C. Arthur Pearson, Hon. W.
enquire for its next appearance, they study Fiennes, Mrs. Wood. Guy Boustead, Rev.
its contents with deep interest, they like C. H. Richards, H. L. Brackenbury, Rev.
to see their names and doings in print, and C. B. Mount, Mrs. Hoskyn, Mrs. Reed,
possibly some contribution of their own Bertram Denison, J. Denisou, Donald
adorning its pages. Old Boys also look Welch. Rev. M. J. Bacon. Rev. A. R. Wisewith favour upon the Magazine. One told man, Mrs. Hill, Maurice Beck. Mrs. Lindop,
as he was an hour late for breakfast tbe Mrs. Stilwell, C. M. Langdale, D. E. Boyle.
The EDITORIAL COMMITTBK heartily
morning it arrived—several others have
highly commended it by word or by letter dislike " dunning " their readers. They
—and we feel assured that by general con- would much prefer to send round the
sent the Magazine is a good idea. All this Magazine minus the slip of pink paper enis encouraging. We floated the First closed ; but this would be contrary to the
Number with a nautical metaphor, com- rule of an enterprise needing a firm
paring our venture to a ship starting on a financial basis. They would suggest that
voyage. We threw out hints of ' food and the recipients of the pink slip may avoid
fuel' being necessary for success—and a its further intrusion, and ensure receiving
word on this subject may be well-advised. the next three copies, if they will kindly
As regards fuel—the EDITORIAL COM- read and fulfil the request contained in
MITTEE tender their grateful thanks to tbe afore-said pink slip. We are pleased
the kind friends who have contributed to present the copy containing itgratit;
towards this important requisite by be- and, they shall start fair with the three
wunibrrs in return for their
subscription.
Then, as regards food: the EDITORIAL
COMMITTEE have already -appealed for
literary contributions in prose or verse.
The appeal was addressed generally to all
their readers, independently of membership, past or present, in the School. The
EDITORIAL COMMITTEE feel disappointed
at the scant reply to this appeal. Take
the present number as an example. The
hungry Editor has received two contributions only from outside—one, Natural
History Notes, by the Eev. M. J. Bacon ; and
the other, a brief description of the Lion
of Lucerne, apparently taken. from the
local guide-book. He regrets that he cannot make use of the latter. He desires to
encourage originality in his contributors,
and trusts the correspondent will pardon
his decision, and try again.
Please, kind friends, to encourage us
with your subscriptions and contribution*—
thereby assisting us to make the Magazine
a real success. We still hanker after
nautical metaphors—and reflect how the
old Romans used to fling their grapplingirons upon ships from which they hoped
to derive material benefit.
Let the
MAGAZINE ' grapple you to us with bands
of steel.' Let it be a genuine chain of
communication between Past and Present
Eagle House Boys and their Friends.
STAS, ET IN -S1TEBNUM, STE8 AQUILINA
DOMUS I
THE EDITOR.
* * * *
THE CRICKET SEASON.
LTHOUGH the number of matches
played was for various reasons curtailed, nevertheless the XI. had sufficient
opportunity of showing that they were
quite up to the average, if not a little
beyond it. The first two matches, against
the same School, ended in disaster; but on
the second occasion the Eleven showed
that there was good stuff in-them, and that
they were capable of better things. So it
proved—for the next three matches all
resulted in substantial victories; and the
last was drawn owing to rain. Hopley
played in capital form throughout the
season, and his average speaks for itself.
He exercised excellent judgment, and
showed considerable punishing powers, but
is still apt to reach out too far. He ought
certainly to come to the front, if he uses
his opportunities. G-. Healey also im-
proved considerably, and played Some
capital games. He has quite a number of
good strokes, but is still rather weak on
the leg side, and apt to get in front of his
wicket. Hawkins turned out a most useful batsman of the rough and ready type,
hitting in fine style, and generally coming
off; there is no reason why he should not
do great things, as he improves nearly
every day. Bassett played well on occasions, and ought to be useful, as his
wicket-keeping improved considerably:
he has however moments of carelessness
both in front an 1 behind the wicket. Of
others, Morgan and Slaytor were always
likely to make a few runs, although the
latter's style leaves much to be desired.
Hinde and Goatling proved disappointing,
and both should have got a lot more runs.
In bowling we depended almost entirely
upon Hawkins and C. Healey; Hawkins is
perhaps the best bowler of the two,
although Healey often proved the most
difficult to play, as he has a good natural
swerve and often sent down some real
good ones: he is not however quite so
steady as Hawkins, and is apt to bowl too
much to leg. Of the other bowlers, G.
Healey has a nice easy action and
should improve; while Hopley generally
managed to get a wicket, although it is
difficult to explain why. The fielding, too,
although sometimes uncertain, certainly
made a distinct advance. Basset behind
the wicket was safe as a rule; he should
cultivate a neater style, and not throw
himself about so much: he must not snatch
at the ball, but must wait and take it
quietly. Hawkins was a most dependable
field, especially to his own bowling; while
Slaytor made some excellent catches at
point. Hopley, too, at mid-off, and Gostling at cover-point, both did useful work.
The catching and stopping of the ball were
good on the whole, but the throwing in
was often slow and sometimes rather
wild; and many fielders did not cover
enough ground, by not starting soon
enough. It is no good just standing and
letting the ball come to one ; the ball must
be met and cut off. One never knows
what impossible things one can get to, if
one only tries hard enough. Nothing is
more annoying to both bowlers and spectators than to see a fielding side listless and
slack. The game throughout the School
was played keenly, and signs of promise
are not wanting among the juniors.
E. HUNTINGTON.
AN EAGLE HOUSE XI. v. COL. Fox's XI.
Flayed at Eagle House on Jane 20th.
The home team, who had the assistance of
four players from Oxford, proved much
too strong, and after dismissing their
opponents for 55, scored 249 for 7 wickets.
Mr. A. G, Malan and Mr. Huu ling ton put
on 75 for the first wicket, and the former
continued to play fine cricket until he bad
scored 93. Of the others, Messrs. Munro,
Wanton, and Roberta, all made useful contributions,
COLONEL Fox's XI.
A. P. Strange, run out
...
... 11
F. W. Parish, b Huntington...
... 5
C. A. Gordon, b Green
...
... 4
N. Keeper, c Munro b Green
... 9
C. F. Smith, b Green
...
... 0
N, Bippingell, c Dr. Malan b Huntington 0
F. Spenee.b Green ...
...
... 0
B.H. Masham, c Dr. Malau b Huntington 0
S. B. Shirley, not out
...
... 19
H. Fellows-Gordon, b Green...
... 1
A. S. Brabant, b Green
...
.. 3
Extras
...
...
... 3
EAGLE HOUSE.
E. F. Huntington, o Brabant b Strange
A. G. Malan, c and b Spence...
...
P. Munro, Ibw b Spence
...
...
C. A. N. Wanton, b Keyser ...
...
W. A. Green, b Spence
...
...
H. F. Bury, c Parish b Keyser
...
H, A. Roberts, c Parish b Keyser ...
Dr. Malan, not out...
...
...
Capt. Morrison, not out
...
...
Extras
...
...
...
56
28
93
21
35
7
4
30
8
10
13
(7 wickets) ... 249
F. B. Campbell and C. H. Malan did not bat.
BOWLING.
Eagle Hintse.—
0.
M.
E.
w,
Green
... 10 ... 4 ... 18 ... 6
Huntington ... 9 ... 2 ... 34 ... 3
Colonel Fi'se's XL—
Strange
... 11 ... 1 ... 32 ... 1
Bippingell ... 2 ... 0 ... 15 ... 0
Smith
... 9 ... 1 ... 35 ... 0
Spence
... 16 ... '2 ..'. 76 ... 8
Gordon
... 1 ... 0 ... 19 ... 0
Brabant
... 3 ... 0 ... 28 ... 0
Keyser
... 7 ... 0 ... 41 ... 3
*
#
*
EAGLE HOUSE v, THE TOWBBB.
Played here, June 24th,
Our first School match of the season
ended in disaster. The only redeeming
feature in our score of 48 was a fine
innings by Hopley, who scored 35 (not out)
in. capital form—the rest of the Eleven
only scoring half-a-dozen between them.
The Towers scored 153, Field and Henderson hitting finely for 33 and 56 respectively.
EAGLE HOUSE.
B.W.W. Gostling, b Field ...
... 0
W. H. B. Hinde, b Field
1
G. W. V. Hopley, not out
36
G. F. W. Healey, Ibw b Field
... 0
J. U. B. Hawkins, o Field b Sykes Banks 1
B. A. M. Basset, b Field
3
M. H. C. Slaytor, b Field ...
... 0
B. E. B. Yerburgh, b Field ...
... 0
J. Rose Troup, b Field
...
... 1
F. C, Ledgard, b Field
...
... 0
C. H. C. Healey, b Field
0
Extras
...
...
... 7
THE TOWEBS.
J. P. Duke, b C. Healey
H. M, Heyland, b C. Healey
H. E. Waller, b C. Healey
W. H. L. O'Neil, run out ...
N. Field, c G. Healey b Hawkins
G. B. Henderson, b Hawkins
B. Sykes Bank, b C. Healey...
L. E. Palmer, c Gostling b C. Healey... 2
G, F. Campbell, b Hawkins
.. 22
H. S. Trevor, b Hawkins ...
... 8
P. Gaiaford. not out
...
... 0
Extras
...
...
... 12
BOWLISG.
The Tmcers,M.
H:
10
2
2
5
1
19
9
10
5
3
Eagle Honse..—
16-2... 6
Hawkins
C. Healey ... 18 ... 2
G. Healey ... 1 ... 0
4 ... 0
Hopley
Basset
2 ... 0
43
48
10
16
24
0.
Field
19
Trevor
5
Henderson ... 8
Sykes Banks... 5
3
Campbell
...
...
...
...
...
EAGLE HOUSE ». TKK TOWEBS.
Played there, July 1 st.
The return match on the Towers' ground
proved a much better game. We scored 90,
several members of the team showing toadvantage. Hopley had bad luck in cutting a
ball into his wicket when well set, The
Towers eventually passed our total for the
loss of five good wickets.
EAGLE HOUSE.
B. W. W. Goatling, c Skipwith b Henderson
...
...
... 2
W. H. R. Hinde, b Field
...
... 1
G. W. V. Hopley, b Field ...
... 16
G. F. W. Healey. b Field ...
... 6
J. 0, B. Hawkins, b Field ...
... 20
B. A. M. Basset, b Field
...
... 12
J. Rose Troup. b Field
...
... 9
M.., 11. C. Slaytor. c Bunks b Fielil ... 4
F. C. Ledgard. c Campbell b Field ... 1
J. B. Morgan, not out
...
... 10
C. H. C. Healey, b Field
...
... 1
Extras
...
...
... 8
90
THE TOWKRS.
J. P. Duke, run oat
H. E. Waller, b C. Healey ...
W. H. L O'Neill, c Slaytor b G. Healey
N. Field, b C. Henley
G. B. Henderson, c Sluytor b Hawkins
G. F. Campbell, not out
C. G. Skipwith, not out
Extras
20
0
I
31
20
7
1
11
91
R. Sykes Banks, L. E. Palmer, H. S. Trevor,
and P. Gaisford, did not bat.
BOWLING.
Tlie Tomer s.Q
17-4...
Field
Henderson ... 9 ...
4 ...
Trevor
Sykes Banks... 2 ...
Palmer
3 ...
Kagle Home., —
Hawkins
18 ...
18 ...
C. Healey
G. Healey
... 7 ...
M
8
1
0
0
0
B
W
62
EAGLE HOUSK.
B. W. W. Gostling, b Spicer
W. H. R. Hinde, b Crosby ...
G. W. V. Hopley, run out ...
G. F. W. Healey, b Eustace...
J. C. B. Hawkins, b Crosby
R. A. M. Basset, b Crosby
J. Rose Troup, b Crosby
M. H.C. Slaytor, st Lock wood b Eustace
J. B. Morgan, b Euatace
F. C. Ledgard, not out
C. H. C. Healcy, b Crosby ...
Extras
21
22
30
6
4
EAGLE HOUSE ». ST. NEOT'S.
Played there, July 4th.
St. Neot's batted first, but with the
exception of Eustace, who scored 23, no
one reached double figures. C. Healey
bowled well, and Hopley secured three
wickets cheaply. The innings closed for
62. Our Eleven showed much improved
form, and thanks to some good cricket by
Hopley, G. Healey, and Hawkins, the total
reached 112. Hopley and Healey batted
finely, and put on 74 for the third wicket.
1
0
31
40
22
0
1
7
0
4
1
5
BOWLING.
Eagle Honxe.—
M.
W.
O.
B.
Hawkins
11 ... 4 ... 22 ... 2
C. Healey
103 ... 1 ... 31 ... 6
G. Healey ... 2 ... I ... 3 ... 0
4 ... 3
Hopley
6 ... 2
9
1
0
St. Neot'i.—
0 . Crosby
...
0 Spicer
Eustace
9 ... 35 . .. 1 Willink
10 ... 20 .,.. 2 Ferryman
1 ... 25 . .. 1
...
...
...
.,..
....
. ..
.,..
.,..
ST. NEOT'S.
t)
G. F. Spicer, Ibw b Hawkins
0
G. F. Boulton. b C. Healey ...
23
F. Eustace, b C. Healey
F. A. Willink, c G. Healey b C. Healey 0
W. R. M. Lockwood, Ibw b Hopley ... 8
6
T. M. Crosby, b Hawkins ...
3
H. M. Ferryman, b C. Healey
0
R. F. Wigram, c Basset b Hopley
6
T. C. Grant, not out
0
T. W. Best, b Hopley
5
M. D. G. Parry. <= Hopley b C. Healey
2
Extras
15-2 ... 3
6 ... 3
10 ... 1
2 ... 0
3 ... 0
*
*
... 41 ... 5
... 15 ... 1
... 30 ... 3
... 7, ... 0
... 14 ... 0
EAGLE HOUSE v. BIGSHOTTE RAYLES.
Played here, July 6th.
A splendid victory for oar Eleven. Bigshotte Rayles batted first and were all
dismissed for 41, Hawkins securing six
wickets for 11 runs. On our side Hopley
batted splendidly for 56; and with Healey,
who scored 28 in good style, put on 75 for
the third wicket. Hawkins hit finely for
41, and the innings closed for the excellent
score of 182. On going in a second time
our opponents scored 44 for 4 wickets.
BIGSHOTTE RAYLKS.
let Innings.
2nd Innings.
6. Keeling, b Hawkins 9
A. Wood, b Hawking... 1 b C. Healey 1
N. Barton, b C. Healey 5 b C. Henley 4
S. Hammans, b Hawkins 8 not oat ... 19
A. Noakes, Ibw b C.
o Slaytoi b
Healey
3
Hopley 2
N. Wood, not out ... 9
C.Wood, c& b Hawkins 0 not out ... 5
J. Skip with, b Hawkins 0
D. Eea, c Basset b C.
Ibw b C.
Healey
,., 3
Healey 8
C. Lushington, b Hawkins
4
H. Sympsou, run out 0
Extras
... 0 ...
... 4
—
—
41
(4 wkts.) 44
EAGLE HOUSE.
B. W. W. Goatling, b Wood ...
... 2
M. H. C. Slaytor, b Keeling ...
... 0
G. W. V. Hopley, o Hammans b Wood... 56
G. W. F. Healey, b Wood
28
J. G. B. Hawkins, b Hammant
... 41
E. A. M. Basset, Ibw b Barton
... 17
J. B. Troup, c Barton b Haiumans ... 1
B. B. R. Yerburgh, b Barton ...
... 0
J. B. Morgan, c Wood b Barton
... 6
0. H, C. Healey, not out
...
... 8
L. P. Jones, b Hammans
...
... 0
Extras
...
...
... 23
—
182
BOWLING.
Bigtftotie Haylee. — 1st Innings.
O.
Hawkins
C. Healey
...
...
M.
B,
W.
13 ... 4 ... 11 ... 6
12 ... 1 ... 23 ... 3
2nd Innings.
Hawkins
... 3 ... 0 ... 11 ... 0
C, Healey ... 8 ... 5 ... 6 ... 3
Hopley
... 3 ... 1 ... 8 ... 1
Yerburgh
... 2 ... 0 ... 13 ... 0
EagU Hmise. —
Wood
... 11 ... 2 ... 42 ... 3
Keeling
... 6 ... 2 ... 22 ... 1
Barton
... 12 ... 2 ... 42 ... 2
Sympson
... 2 ... 0 ... 5 ... 0
Skipwith
... 3 ... 0 ... 14 ... 0
Hammans ... 10 ... 0 ... 32 ... 4
* .*
EAGLE HOUSE ;. SANDHURST CLUB.
Flayed here, July 8th.
The Village batted first, but our old
rivals were no match for us on this occasion. After having been disposed of for
67, they were kept in the field until the
formidable total of 280 had been amassed
aetunst them. Lanvon was the chief
scorer with 81, but Stocks and Dr. Mulan
both hit capitally for their respective
scores of 59 and 10. Sandhurst batted a
second time, but were puzzled by some
lob-bowling on the part of A, G. Malan.
SANDHURST.
1st Innings.
2nd Innings.
F. Kitson, c Comely b
Hnntington
0
C. H. Martin, c Dr. Malau
c Huggins b
b Huntington
... 2 A.G. Malun 15
W. Hause, b Huntington 6
J. Clarke, o A. G. Malan
b A. G.
b Lauyon
... 18
Malan 9
H. Caesar, o Dr. Malan
b Lanyon
... 23
Rev. J. Hodgson, b
Huntington
... 3
W. Watts, b Lanyon ... 2 b A.G. Malan 2
H. Watts, c Wallace b
Huntington
... . 6
F. Bullock, c Dr. Malan
b Huntington
... 2 not out ... 8
T. Coofer, b Lanyon ... 3 not out ... 17
P. Howlett, not out ... 0 b A. U. Malan 0
Extras
... 3 ...
... 3
67
(4 wkts.)
EAGLE HOUSE.
A. G. Malan, b Kitson
...
...
E. Hnntington, b Kitson
...
...
F. B. Lauyon, c Cooper b Martin
...
S. Stocks, b Clarke...
...
...
Dr. A. N. Malan. o Howlett b Kitson...
F. B. Campbell, b Kitson ...
...
B. Wallace, b Kitson
...
..'.
A. Wyatt, c Snb. b Martin ... _
...
Sergeant Hugging, b Kitson......
F. SeccuL not out ...
...
...
C. Comely, b Kitson
...
...
Extras
...
' ...
...
BOWLING.
Eagle HOVM. — Ifit Innings.
O.
Hnntington
Dr. Malan
Lanyon
M.
... 6'l ... 0
... 3 ... 0
... 3 ... 0
2nd Innings.
A. G. Malan ... 5 ... 0
Wyatt
... 3 ... 0
Stooks
... 1 ... 0
Sandhurst, —
Kitson
... 19-2... 1
Caesar
... 7 ... 0
H. Watts
... 5 ... 0
Clarke
... 9 ... 0
Howlett
... 4 „. 0
Martin
... 11 ... 3
55
3]
19
81
59
40
13
4
2
10
2
1
J8
—
.280
B.
W.
,., 39 ... 6
... 16 ... 0
... 9 ... 4
... 23 ... 4
... 21 ... 0
... 8 ... 0
...
...
...
...
...
...
88
46
40
44
16
SB
...
,.,
...
...
...
...
7
0
0
I
0
2
EAGLE HOUSE ». ST. NEOT'S.
Played here July 25th.
The return match against St. Neot's
again resulted in a decisive victory for
Eagle House, who showed up well at all
points of the game. Although St. Neot's
hit up 26 for the first wicket, their total
only reached 58—thanks to some good
bowling by Hawkins and Hopley. On
going in to bat our side fared badly, and
four good wickets fell for 33. Hawkins
and Basset however played capital cricket,
and put the issue beyond doubt. Subsequently Slaytor showed a glimpse of his
true form, and scored 19—the total reaching 139.
ST. NEOT'S.
F. Willink, b Hopley
13
J. Spioer, b C. Healey
...
... 20
F. Eustace, b Hawkins
...
... 0
W. Lockwood, not out
...
... 10
F. Boulton, c Slaytor b Hawkins
... 3
G. Crosby, b Hawkins
...
... 0
H. Ferryman, c Gostling b Hawkins ... 2
J. Grant, c Slaytbr b Hopley...
... 4
E. Wigram, c Slaytor b Hopley
... 0
T. Best, b Hopley ...
...
... 0
V. Gosling, b Hawkins
...
... 0
Extras
...
...
... 1
63
EAGLE HOUSE.
J. R. Troup, b Crosby
...
... 0
B. W. W. Gostling, run out ...
... 1
G. W. V. Hopley, b Eustace ...
... 21
G. F. W. Healey, b'Crosby ...
... 5
J. C. B. Hawkins, c Willink b Ferryman 36
E. A. M. Basset, b Crosby .'..
... 30
W. H. E. Hinde, at Lockwood b Eustace 9
M. H. C. Slaytor, b Eustace ...
... 19
F. C. Ledgard, b Eustace
...
... 0
J. B. Morgan, not out
...
... 8
C. H. C. Healey, b Eustace ...
... 0
Extras
...
...
... 10
BOWLING.
Eagle House., —
o.
M.
Hawkins
14-1 ... 3
10 ... 2
C. Healey
Hopley
11 ... 7
4 ... 1
G. Healey
St. Neat's.—
Crosby
... 18 ... 4
Ferryman
4 ... 0
12 ... 1
Eustace
3 ... 0
Spicer
Willink
3 ... 1
139
w.
E.
... 25 ... 5
... 17 ... 1
4
... 6
... 4 ... 0
...
...
...
...
...
47
23
31
18
9
...
...
...
...
...
3
1
5
0
0
EAGLE HOUSE ». PINEWOOD.
Played there, July 23rd.
A match unfortunately ruined by rain.
Piuewood batted first, and thanks to nine
missed catches scored 146, at which total
they declared for the loss of seven wickets.
Gostling and Morgan opened the innings
for us, and scored 21 without loss, when
rain put a stop to play. The slippery condition of the ball may in some measure
account for our poor fielding.
PINEWOOD.
K. Habershon, c C. Healey b Hawkins 25
C. Lloyd, not out ...
...
... 45
P. Wilson, b Hawkins
...
... 0
P. Doll, c G. Healey b Hawkins
... 0
A. Evans, b Hawkins
...
... 10
G. Davies, run out ...
...
... 1
F. Eoupell, c Ledgard b Basset
... 43
C. Nathan, c Hawkins b 0. Healey ... 0
L. Tweedie, not out...
...
... 16
Extras
...
...
... 6
146
J. Jackson and F. Fidgeon did not bat.
EAGLK HOUSE.
J. B. Morgan, not out
...
... 6
B. W. W. Gostling, not out ...
... 15
Extras
...
...
... 1
(No wicket) 22
G. W. V. Hopley, G. W. F. Healey, J. C. B.
Hawkins, E. A. M. Basset, M. H. C.
Slaytor, W. H. B. Hinde, J. R. Troup,
C. H. C. Healey, and F. C. Ledgard,
did not bat.
BOWLING.
Eagle House.
O.
Hawkins
...
C. Healey
...
Hopley
...
G. Healey
...
Basset
...
Pinewood.—
Evans
...
Doll ...
...
Habershon ...
25
18
7
4
2
M.
...
...
...
...
...
4
1
5
0
0
B.
...
...
...
...
...
38
31
10
12
9
W.
...
...
...
...
...
4
1
0
0
1
6 ... 1 ... 12 ... 0
5 ... 2 ... 8 ... 0
1 ... 0 ... 1 ... 0
* # *
DR. MALAN'S XI. v. A WELLINGTON
COLLEGE XI.
Played here, July 25th.
We always anticipate this annual event
with pleasure, and from the kind things
said of it by our guests, we are glad to
think that they likewise enjoy it. After
the depressing weather which prevented
the match against Bigshotte Eayles, and
spoilt the Pine wood match, a fine afternoon
accommodated us most opportunely, as a
12 hours' rain set in sooa after the echoes
A WKLLINGTON COLUSQK Xl.
of the parting cheers had died away. The
home side was reinforced by a strong contingent of Wellington College Assistant M. W. Payne, c Wright b Wells
A. V. Stanfield, Ibw b North...
Masters; our opponents comprised six of
the Wellington College XI. and five of the C. T: Berrington, c Campbell b Huntington
2nd XI. We won the toss and went in.
The start was not hopeful, but matters C. L. Cameron, b Wells
soon improved thanks to Mr. Brougham's M. A. Frisby. c A.G. Malan b Money...
fine batting, ably supported by Messrs. H. F. Marsh, b Wells
Wright 36, and Nash 36 (not out). Mr. D. R. Hannay, st Nash b Money
Brougham at once settled down to do great C. H. Armstrong, st Nash b Wells ...
things. Hxs 53 included two drives for 6, W. H. Hunt, c Wright b Wells
and five 4's. On the other side Stanfield G. C. Drysdale, c Campbell b Money ...
and Payne made an excellent start, the R. B. Walker, not out
Extras
first wicket falling for 66. Hunt and
Hanney added 23 and 20 respectively in
good style. We won on first innings by
12 runs.
DB. MALAN'S XI.
Mr. A. G. Malan, b Hannay ...
... 4
Mr. W. H. Wright, Ibw b Frisby
... 36
DB. MALAN'S XI.
Mr. C. Wells, c Drysdale b Frisby ... 16
Mr. E. Huntington, run out
... 4
2nd Innings.
Mr. H. W. Brougham, c Stanfield b Hunt 53
Dr. Malan, c Payne b Frisby
... 8 Dr. Malan, b Cameron
Mr. B. G. North, o Marsh b Hunt ... 5 Mr. H. W. Brougham, b Drysdale
Mr. B. Campbell, c Walker b Hunt ... 0 Mr. A. G. Malan, not out
Mr. W. D. Ot. Nash, not out...
... 35 Mr. W. D. G. Nash, b Drysdale
Bev.T. Lemmy, c Berriugton b Drysdale 8 Mr. C. Wells, b Drysdale
Mr. W. S. Money, b Drysdale
... 2 Mr. E. Huntington, not out...
Extras
Extras
...
...
... 6
39
49
10
0
11
5
20
0
23
0
0
8
165
0
20
16
0
1
6
8
(for 4 wickets) 51
177
Match Averages.
Name.
G. W. Hopley
J. C. B. Hawkins
G. F. W. Healey
J. B. Morgan...
B. A. M. Basset
M. H. C. Slaytor
B. W. W. Gostling
W. H. E. Hinde
C. H. C. Healey
J. Rose Troup
F. C. Ledgard
Also tatted—
R. E. R. Yerburgh
L. J. Pitcairu Jones
Name.
G. W. V. Hopley
J. C. B. Hawkins
C. H. C. Healey
G. F. W. Healey
Also boivled—
R. A. M. Basset
R. E. R. Yerburgh
Innings.
5
5
5
6
5
5
..
6
4
5
5
4
2
1
0
0
0
0
BOWLING
Overs.
Maidens.
Innings.
.
BATTING.
Not out. Total Buna Highest Score.
66
1
... 159
41
0
...
120
40
0
79
.. *10
3
30
30
0
62
0
19
...
30
.. *15
21
1
0
9
...
11
1
10
12
0
6
1
.
.
5
7
1
5
...
...
...
...
100-3
89-3
18
15
29
22
3
.
.
2
1
...
...
4
2
0
0
31
.
.. .
.. .
Buns.
Average.
39-75
24-00
15-80
15-00
12-40
6-00
4-20
2-75
2-50
2-40
1-66
44
185
... 176
... 54
Wickets. Average.
. 8 ., . 5-50
. 22 .. . 8-40
. 21 . . 8-80
. 1 . . 64-00
...
...
.
.
...
33
13
1
0
. . 33-00
.,
Averages.
FIRST GAMK AND PEACTICK.
Hame.
G. W. V. Hopley
B. A. M. Basset
G. P. W. Healey
J. C. B. Hawkins
W. H. B. Hinde
J. B. Morgan...
B. W. W. Gostlinsr
...
M. H. C. Slaytor
B. B.-E. Yerbnrgh
F. C. Led^ard.
C. H. C. Healey
J. H. Barley
J. Rose Troup
L. J. Fitcairn Jones ...
T. N. Bolitho
Name.
G. M. Andrews (captain)
8. A. Sanford
E. D. C. Hunt
E. C. Douglass
V. D. Gartside-Tipping
E. C. Hudson
J. E. B. Lethbridge ...
B. K. Boss ...
D. A. Simmons'
T. J. G. Beynolds
H. E. Biggs
P. B. V. Heard
C. M. Stanuell
A. F. 8. Napier
E. W. Gorst ...
G. T. Gbrst ...
J, M. Rayden
Kuns.
739
554
439
325
202
220
242
145
164
183
154
103
67
86
72
Completed Innings. Average.
35
21-11
32
17-31
48
9-14
42
7-73
34
5-91
44
5-00
4-93
49
32
4-53
39
4-20
45
4-06
44
350
2-61
39
1-97
34
1-72
50
1-56
46
SECOND GAME.
Buns. Completedlnnings. Average.
28
...
8-30
191
12-68
241
19
4-69
122
26
8-55
154
18
4-68
98
21
690
145
21
1-59
43
27
5-87
141
24
1-59
43
27
10-30
103
10
1-15
26
30
2-76
25
69
4-26
81
19
9.63
106
11
3-12
25
8
...
•50
4
8
•51
14
27
*
Wickets bowled. Catches.
13
74
18
34
12
12
5
10
19
9
11
38
76
5
1
10
17
4
14
79
6
7
9
4
1
0
0
2
0
0
Wickets bowled. Oatchei
...
24
..
3
...
12
...
4
...
19
... —
...
20
...
2
8
...
4
6
... —
4
...
—
...
16
2
8
4
4
...
...
...
...
...
7
—
7
—
2
12
I
...
2
1
...
—
2
A
* * *
CHOIR TREAT.
(BY BOMB OF THE CHOIB.)
IN
Friday, July 9th, Mr. George Malan
and Mr. Lee took the Choir for a
treat to Windsor. It was a glorious day,
and we had a lovely drive. We passed
Ascot Racecourse, and presently came to
Windsor Park. Driving through it we
enjoyed looking at the graceful deer, the
strong Highland cattle, the white goats,
besides scores of rabbits which darted
about under the trees and through the
bracken. Then the grey outline of the
Castle loomed into view and diverted our
attention. [L.J.P.J.]
After passing through Swiuley we drove
along by Ascot Racecourse. It was the
height of the rose season, and even the
humblest cottage had its rose-bush. Over
the gate of one cottage there was an arch
of moss-roses. In the graveyard of a
church by the road-side I noticed over a
grave a quaint head-stone, supported by
two stakes. It was inscribed, "To the
memory of
, who was born in the
reign of George II., and was the faithful
servant and deer-keeper of George III.,
and George IV." What a picture can be
drawn from this I One can imagine a man
of 55 walking through the leafy glades of
the Park, with a basket on his arm containing little tit-bits for his favourite
deer. Then as time goes on he becomes
feeble and decrepit; his hair turns white
and he is no longer able to feed his pets.
Then the end comes, and he is forgotten.
In the Park we saw many deer and rabbits.
Some of the deer allow the birds to perch
on their backs. [J.B.T.]
We stopped at the bottom of a hill in
the town, and walked up to the Castle.
There we passed tinder the old arches, and
saw St. George's Chapel. Then we went
upon the great terrace and looked at the
country for miles round, and saw the
whole of Windsor and the Home Park.
Then we had tea—a ripping tea too I—and
went on to Eton College. They have a
beautiful chapel with painted windows
and a big organ. We saw the house
which was burnt down, and the creeper
the boys got down in their escape. We
then went down by the river, and saw the
boats, and the swans, and the boys fishing.
When the brake came we got in, and drove
away back through the Park. We cheered
the masters, and sang, and male merry all
the way home, and sang for each master,
" For he's a jolly good fellow, and so say
all of us." After we had cheered ourselves
hoarse we ahut up for a bit. We saw the
sun set, and the red round moon slowly
rising from the East, and we struck up
again and sang, " We won't go home till
morning." The moon got a more orange
colour by this time, and we thought of
getting home, as most of us were fairly
tired. All round the place the ghostly
dark and shadowy pines quivered. The
moon was yellow now, and its silvery
beams driving out the last sparks of daylight shone down upon us. We got home
about half-past nine, and went to bed, and
slept a peaceful und undisturbed night,
dreaming of Windsor Castle and the treat
kindly given by Mr A. G. Malan. Choir
Master. I must say we all thanked-him
gratefully, as we all enjoyed it very
much. [A.F.S.N.]
L. J. PITCAIBN JONES. J. Rosu TBOUP.
A. F. S. NAPIER.
* * * *
SWIMMING RACES.—July 24 and 27.
First Division (Colours), 5 lengths.
IST HEAT
B. W. W. Gostling beat M. H. C. Slaytor
L. J. Pitcairn Jones „ G. W. V. Hopley
T. N. Bolitho
„ G. M. Andrews.
2ND HEAT.
L. J. Pitcairn Jones beat B. W. W. Gostling
FINAL HEAT.—6 lengths.
L. J. Pitcairn Jones beat T. N. Bolitho.
Second Division, 3 lengths.
B. A. M. Basset
beat E. C. Douglass
B.E.E.Yerburgh „ fIS.
?'?'
°'?"}*
A.aSanford
FINAL HEAT.
R. E. R. Yerburgh beat B. A. M. Basset
*
#
*
Water-wing Race for Beginners.
IST HEAT.
F. C. Ledgard
beat D. A. Simmons
J. M. Rayden
„ T. J. G. Reynolds
(scratched)
E. W. Gorst
„ E. D. C. Hunt
J. Rose Tronp
„ J. E. B. Lethbridge
2ND HEAT
F. C. Ledgard
beat J. M. Rayden
J. Rose Troup
„ E. W. Gorst
FINAL HEAT.
F. C. Ledgard
beat J. Rose Troup.
In the First Division Jones swam in
very good form ; Hopley and Gostling
showed promising style. The " Waterwing Races afforded capital sport. After
the first plunge Simmons remained in
statu quo, while Ledgard winged his way
unchallenged. Rayden took his plunge to
essay the course—but in jhe rashness of
that plunge he lust his wings, and, like
Icarus, courted disaster. Bat the friendly
pole averted calamity, and he was brought
safe to land. Hunt, when he got to the
shallows, took a promenade along the
bottom, and wus disqualified.
* # * *
GYMNASIUM COMPETITION.—
July 27th.
«*OUR competitors were selected from
V each Division, and exercises were
contested on the Vaulting Horse, Horizontal Bar, Parallel Bars, Climbing Rope,
Rings, Ladders, Bridge.
A. DIVISION.—B. W. W. Gostling, R. A. M.
Basset, C. H. C. Healey, J. B.
Morgan.
Prize.—J. B. Morgan.
B. DIVISION.— A. F. S. Napier, E. C.
Douglass, R. E. R. Yerburgh,
J. Rose Troup.
Prize.— A. F. S. Napier.
C. DIVISION.—L. J. Pitcairn Jones, F. C.
Ledgard, B. E. Ross, S. A. Sanford.
Prize.—L. J. Pitcairn Jones.
The Divisions are not arranged by proficiency in Gymnastics, but with a view to
suiting the convenience of the Navy and
Drawing Classes. There are promising
gymnasts in each Division, and the three
prize-winners severally gave an excellent
performance. Morgan was perhaps the
best, though Napier's style was more
graceful, and Jones was scarcely behind
either of them.
* * * *
FIELDING COMPETITION.— July 28.
(JSl»HE following eight members of the
^*y XI. were selected to compete for a
Prize in Fielding: — Hopley, G. Healey. C.
Healey, Hawkins, Slaytor. Basset, Jones
Hinde. The competition consisted of
Fielding and Throwing up, Long Catches,
Close Catches — the ball being in every case
hit from the bat to the particular "field"
on his triul. The competition was highly
interesting, though unfortunately rain
prevented a further display between the
three best. Hawkins, Hopley, Slaytor.
The Prize was won by J. C. B. Hawkins.
Mr. C. St. A. Lee:
L. J. Pitoairn Jones—French.
J. Rose Troup
„
W. H. R. Hinde
H. E. Biggs, 2nd Cl.
P. B. V. Heard. 3rd Cl. „
G. M. Andrews—Geography. 2nd Cl.
Mr. E. HtiHti'iu/tun :
G. F. W. Healey—Latin, 2nd Cl.
E. V. Douglass
„
„
G. W. V. Hopley—Arithmetic, Algebra,
Euclid. History.
L. J. Pitcairn Jones -Euclid, History.
A. F. S. Napier
Mr. B. C'amjfbell:
P. B. V. Heard—3rd Cl. Latin and Arithmetic.
R. E. R. Yerburgh—Arith. 3rd Cl.
J. E. B. Lethbridge
L. J. Pitcairn Jones—Geography.
B. W. W. Gostling
G. W. V. Hopley
V. D. Gartside-Tipping—History.
* * * *
PRIZES AND COMMENDATIONS. Summer Term.
1st
2nd
3rd
4th
CLASS PRIZES.
... J. Rose Troup.
L. J. Pitcairn Jones.
... T. N. Bolitho.
... P. B. V. Heard.
... not awarded.
OCCASIONAL PRIZES.
G. W. V. Hopley— Mathematics.
A. F. S. Napier — Latin, Euclid, History.
C. H. C. Healey, 2nd Div. of 1 st Class— Latin.
G. F. W. Healey, 2nd Class—Latin Translation.
COMMENDED.
By Dr. Malan :
3. Rose Troup—Latin, Greek.
L. J. Pitcairn Jones— Latin, Divinity.
G. W. Hopley— Divinity.
A. F. S. Napier— Latin, 2nd Div. 1st Class.
C. H. C. Healey
R. A. M. Basset— Bible Lessons.
V. D. Gaitside-Tipping— Div. Exam.
Mr. A. G. Malan:
L. J. Pitcairn Jones, Navy Class — History.
V. D. Gartside - Tipping, Navy Class —
Geography.
G. W. V. Hopley— History Exam.
L. J. Pitcairn Jones
„
„
W. H. R. Hinde
A. F. S. Napier
„
„
OUR FEATHERED FRIENDS.
/ANE of the pleasantest memories of last
V
term was the interest taken by
several of the boys in the bird-life of the
garden. Much of their spare time was
spent in hunting for nests; and their
industry was rewarded by the discovery
of more than fifty nests, of blackbirds,
thrushes, jays, sparrows, starlings, hedgesparrows, chaffinches, wrens, gold-crests
tits, robins, and garden-warblers.
Perhaps the greatest find was a treecreeper's nest, hidden away in a crack in
the wall of the summer-house. The small
white eggs, spotted with red, could only,
be seen with the aid of a pocket electric
lamp.
On the lawn in front of the house a
gold-crest built in the branch of a tree,
only a yard from the ground. But a sad
fate befell the confiding little bird; its
nest was accidentally destroyed by the
mowing-machine. As the young were
already fledged, it is hoped that they
escaped, though nothing more was seen
of them.
A chaffinch had its nest in a tree on
the lawn near the Junior Field; and so
tame was the mother-bird that it was
possible to steal up within a few feet of
her, while sitting on her eggs.
4 pair of bullfinches were often seen
late Duke of Wellington—not the Great
Duke, but the late Duke—had a pointer,
of which he was justly proud. One day,
when he was returning with some friends
from shooting, the dog made a dead point
at a countryman they met in the road.
Only one conclusion was obvious, and the
man was promptly searched, but nothing
suspicious was found on him. Eventually
it transpired that the man's name was
Partridge.
Here is another dog story. A gentle*
man's house was being rapidly burnt down,
and the whole household was engaged in
carrying out all the valuables they could
lay hold of, on to the lawn. Suddenly a
fine retriever, his master's constant
companion, was seen to make a dash in
through the study window, whence he
presently emerged, in spite of flames and
smoke, carrying the Fire Insurance policy
in his mouth.
Hawks are seldom, if ever, known to
* * * *
settle on a house, or a building of any
kind. Yet a hawk roosted nightly under
the eaves of my house for some six years,
NATURAL HISTORY NOTES.
only absenting himself during the nesting
BY THE RKV. M. J. BACON.
season. I never got a fair sight of him,
aalD you ever hear of a horse that as he was very shy, and came in the dusk
S>* caught mice J I had one, that not of the evening, and was off at day-break;
only grabbed at the mice as they ran but he was a very fine fellow I believe,
along the manger, but ate them also with a kestrel. I . fancy this is a unique
much satisfaction. It is only fair to add experience
that he was an importation from Norway,
It is not easy to determine the longevity
and probably in his native land he was of birds. I have a fine breed of Archangel
glad to subsist on anything he could pick pigeons, and the old father of the family
up.
was hatched in j893, as the ring on his leg
It is not often that a cat makes believe testifies. I am told, however, by fanciers,
it is a dog. I have one that eats dog- that these birds will reach the age of
biscuit, drinks water copiously from the twenty-four.
trough in the yard, and sleeps in the
The horse is a long-lived animal, though
kennel. I have not heard it try to bark under our treatment he is old at twenty, or
yet.
even fitteen. The oldest horse I ever knew
You have doubtless noticed.how a hare was a pony. (This is evidently not a bull.)
will frequently stop short, and sit up He was thirty-nine when he died, and did
with pricked ears. The next time you see the light work required of him the day
one do this, shout RED CURRANT JELLY! before his death.
at the top of your voice, and see how it
Schoolboys are an interesting study in
will run for its lifel Hares know a lot.
natural history. Their powers of ' brag'
The cock-sparrow is an impudent and are wonderful, especially as regards anyconceited bird, and will confidently thing connected with their homes. "There
approach you bill you take some notice is a verandah on our house," boasted one
of him. Tell him you really mistook him young hopeful to his chum, during a
for a pheasant, and he will hop away with sharpish bout of brag. "Is there? Well,
wings distended and every feather twitch- there's a mortgage on ours," was the
ing with anger, as he will think that you prompt retort; "I've heard my father say
are trying to make game of him.
so." " Well, we've got some jolly big
Dog stories are numerous, and are more swells in our family, anyhow. Why, my
or less true—frequently the latter. The grandfather's got Mns. Bac. after his
near the Chapel, but no nest was found.
The starlings under the Chapel roof seemed
to enjoy the Services. Their " carillons "
were easily heard above the singing. They
also had several nesta in the gables of the
house; and on a summer evening it was
a pretty sight to see the parent-birds busily
flying down to the pond, and back again
with water in their bills for thirsty
nestlings.
Flycatchers and wag-tails frequented
the pond, but no nests were discovered.
However, the young wag-tails, which
sported among the water-lilies at the
beginning of this term, were visible proof
that there must have been a nest not far
off.
It is very gratifying to know that
the birds were able to hatch out their
broods unmolested—a sure sign of a
genuine love of nature among the boys.
A. G. MALAN.
name in the pedigree I" " Haa he ? That's
nothing. My grandfather's got siis: per
cott: after his. So there now I"
*
# * *
3j|j|R- AINSL1E BEAN, the artist, was
*W- showing his pictures to an old
gentleman, who asked, " Why do you
always paint moonlight ?" The artist
was surprised at the question, as all the
pictures were in sunlight. Next day the
old gentleman offered an apology : " I was
looking at your pictures through blue
spectacles."
* # *
The answer to a question in the Summer
Examination involved spelling the word
chrysalis. The following versions of the
word were produced in the lower classes :
chricles, crycUit, crisolist (afterwards improved by the originator, chyolist) erysallis,
orittlis, chrisolis, chrysolus, chrysilis,
*
#
In the answer to* a question in the
Divinity Paper, a boy wrote:—" Oh ye
wicked man. didst I not forgive thee all
that thou didst owe me, and yet thou
hast thrust thine servants into prison.
Ought thou not to have forgiven them all
that they owest ye ?"
*
#
* stamps this term;
"Veseyis collecting
and when he has got five hundred he's
going to declare."
* * #
" I say, at bathing to-day Sanford swam
four lengths not out I"
*
*>
The late Pope loved his Horace. During
his last illness he dictated a set of verses,
beginning, Fatalis, ruit hora, Leo: jam
temptis abire ett. Did some memory arise
in the failing brain of a similar phrase in
Horace, written of the guest who has
drunk his fill of life and must depart?
Liisisti satis, edisti satis, atquv bibisti;
Tempm oMre tibi est. That were a curious
meeting of two men who had trodden the
self-same streets—a meeting where all
born of woman must meet, though by
diverging and converging roads.
—The Academy.
* * * #
AN INTERVIEW WITH A POET.
it 3tJ-^S' s>ri I'm a worshipper of the
53 muses," he said, passing his thin
white hand through his long black hair,
and uplifting his eyes to the ceiling of the
tap-room of the King's Head. Hursley,
opposite the Vicarage sacred to the
memory of John Keble.
" I claim to be a poet, sir," he insisted,
"and—mark me—it is no vain conceit.
Even at school the coruscations of genius
would flash at times from my brain—the
Master himself pronounced the verdict—
and, as you well know, a Master is not
lavish of praise on a pupil without good
cause. No, sir. On one occasion I
compelled his reluctant admiration by
achieving the impossible!"
He paused, and for a few moments
devoted his attention to the tea and cakes.
The cyclist asked for an explanation.
"Sir," said the poet presently, bending
forward and placing two fingers confidentially on the cyclist's arm, "you
appreciate the classic poets—I see it in
your eye—Ovid's Elegiacs have a charm
for you. Should you conceive it possible
to make three false quantities in a word of
four letters ? ' Impossible I' you will say—
and so have said Fellows and Tutors of
Colleges, men of the highest culture and
refinement. All to whom I have ever
broached the subject have exclaimed,
' Impossible I' Yet I did it, sir ! I did it,
and I glory in the feat I Never shall I
forget the thrill of pride that swept
through my soul as the Master said'
'Sweeney, you're a genius 1'"
The poet paused, and drew back, sitting
up to his full height, placing his outspread hands upon his knees. Then again
bending forward, and pointing a finger in
didactic fashion, he mouthed out the line,
" Tene, saoer vates.flammcs rapuere rogales?"
" I had read that line, sir, in the course
of a lesson, and I proceeded to construe,
'Sold, tacred poet'—when the master interrupted me—• Stop I you make two false
quantities in rendering Te-ne, Hold/' I
eyed the word suspiciously, and surmising
its composition I corrected myself—Do
not, sacred poet—'There goes a third false
quantity !' said the master; • for ne prohibitive is long I Three false quantities in
a morcL of four letters! Sweeney, you're a
genius!'"
"I grant you, sir, that it was a blunder;
but there are blunders and olitndert. My
contention is that no ordinary boy, ever
achieved that particular blunder. . . .
Talking of Ovid and blunders—I would
ask you : Have any of our great Scholars
ever discovered a blunder in Ovid ? a blunder
so atrocious, that any Fourth form boy and after supper I recited to him these
committing it at a Public School would lines :—
incur the utmost rigour of the penal code.
Stately deodars and trim laExplain, sir, if yon can, the fact that none
burnums grace the slopes of Simla.
of your famous critical scholars ever de• See 1' quoth I to brother Jim, 'La
tected it, and vouchsafe the passing favour
Neige ! Oh, how I long to clim' laof your esteem upon its discoverer, the
bante gresiit—prove my vim lahumblest of classical students, Timothy
bore sumino 1 ' • Why such prim LaSweeney.
tinity ? ' quoth Jim ; ' The grim LaYou will no doubt recall the passage :—
ocoon cries, ' Halt 1'—His limb lacertian snakes encompassed—him laPsittaeus Eois imitatrix alei ab Indis
Oceidit . . .
menting sore devoured the slim laAlitis in rarce miserum devertite funns—
custrine monsters 1 Steady, Tim, la"Now mark me—the feminine form imite secivrns 1 Fear to skim latatrix and the feminine adjective rarce
zar-like 1 Drown your silly whim laapplied to ales emphasise the fact that the
gend! Let the bowl o'erswim laparrot was a Ae«-bird ; for elsewhere Ovid
vishly! Whiskey-pegs shall brim 1 Lamakes ales, masculine. But in the course
pitJicB-\\k.e we'll swig, till dim Laof the Elegy he proceeds:—
toua sets with silver rim laQuidjuvat, ut datus eg . . . Raptus es
be ns, and pale as evening prim' la.'
invldla . . .
'Jim,' quoth I, ' you are (ach himm'l) a
Crarrulus, et plaeutee pads amator eras—
new Micaiah. sou of Imlah 1'
Here he distinctly pronounces the parrot
•There, Sir, I have done, and I thank
to be a cocA-bird. It is nothing else than you for a very pleasant half-hour. Your
a gross blunder, sir.
The Emperor conversation has been an intellectual tonic.
Augustus would never have given 30,000 I wish you Good eveniug.'
sesterces for a raven which greeted him,
The poet paid his reckoning, and left
" Ave, Csesar.Victrtas, Imperatrta " ; neither the Inn.
A.N.M.
would our late Queen of blessed memory
* * *
have admitted the title.Victoria Imperator.
' One moment more, Sir—you will pardon
Talking of Poets reminds the Editor
me for detaining you—but I cannot resist that he was once patted on the back by
giving you just one specimen of my poetic the late Professor Blackie—au honour of
genius, forced from my brain by a which he is pleasantly proud. The occabrother's idle taunt. A trivial spark, you sion was a dinner party at the late Admiral
will confess, to kindle such a conflagration. Otter's, Oban. In the course of the evenTwo years ago I travelled through India ing the Professor discoursed upon the
with my brother James. We spent a week beauty of certain Gaelic poems, and wishat Simla, where the sublime magnificence ing to impress the force of his remarks,
of the Himalayas held my soul an enrap- he recited translations he had made of
tured captive. James' nature is cast in some of the poems. The guests were
grosser mould—he could not appreciate charmed by the sweetness of his voice,
my enthusiasm. One evening, in the the eloquence of his delivery, and the
course of a walk, when the sunset flush poetic grace which adorned his translaon the snowy peaks was a vision of in- tions. When the applause had subsided,
effable splendour, I expressed a longing your Editor ventured to suggest that there
desire to cast off the investiture of mor- could be no question about the beauty of
tality, and speed all unencumbered to those the poetry they had just heard; but they
eternal snows, never trodden by foot of were not at all sure that the praise ought
man. He replied: " Go slow, old man— not to be ascribed to the genius bf the
you'd cut a poor show with the snakes translator rather than to 'the excellence
in the intervening valleys minus your of the original. The Professor's noble
trousers I Think of Laocoon! What you countenance beamed with a smile of
want is a stiff whiskey-peg. Sky that evident gratification, and he graciously
drivel, and give me a rhyme to Simla, if acknowledged the remark in the way
you're a poet." His ribaldry vexed me specified above.
* * *
sore—his scornful challenge was a gauntlet flung in my face—my reputation was
Possibly some of our readers may never
at stake—but Apollo rescued his votary, have heard the following anecdote. On
a certain occasion circumstances prevented
Professor Blackie from delivering a lecture, and he intimated the fact by chalking
up a notice on the black-board in the
lecture-room : — Professor BlaoHle mil not
meet Ms claiies to-day. — The notice was
duly read, and some wag indulged his
humour by rubbing out the e of classes,
In the course of the morning the Professor happened to go into the lectureroom, and he noticed the alteration. Then
he went up to the boarti, and rubbed out
the I of lasses.
T. A. D. Thompson took part in the
Fencing Competition, on Speech Day last
term at Wellington College.
t * *
B. T. Malau, B.U., H.M.S, Exmonth, has
kept us posted in the movements of the
Mediterranean Squadron. On July 28th,
he played cricket for Gibraltar v. The
Flagship, aiid made 53 runs. On August
3rd, the' Fleet' steamed to Lagos Bay,
Portugal. " There are eleven battleships,
and they look "ripping anchored in the
Bay, -There is a long sandy beach, with
two or three houses on the green hills
behind." The Eaunotttftw&s prevented, by
an. accident to her boilers, from taking
part in the interesting manojuvres.
The Old Boys' Football Match ia
fixed for December 12th, and it is
hoped that all who wish to play
Will send us their names as soon
as possible.
*
*
*
The marriage arranged between Captain
.A. Peroeyal Barry, of the Prince Albert's
Somersetshire Light Infantry, and Helen
Charlotte, youngest daughter of the late
t)ean of Winchester and Mrs. W. Woo.l
Stephens, will take place on the 20th of
October, at St. Mary Abbott's, Kensington.
* * *
Walter Malan, I.C.S., and Mrs. Walter
Maliju, haye returned to India after sis
mouths' leave in England, Misa Christine
Malan accompanied them. The boys presented her with a beautiful salver, engraved with crest and inscription, " From
the boys of Eagle House, Sandhurst, to
Christine Malan, Sept.. 1903." A gong
was also included in their present. During
a visit, to Scotland, Mrs. Walter Malau
caught a lalmon, Jljibs.—the largest fish
so far caught this season in the River
Findhoru, on the Belugas Estate,
#
#
*
D. E. Boyle writes of good fishing in
Scotland last holidays. He is in the
Colts A Club, Malvfern College.
*
*
*
Colonel H. S. Logan sends us a breezy
letter from the far west, dated Agiochook
(Place of the Spirit of the Pines), Lake
Muskota. . . . " This is a lovely place.
a large expanse of water, dotted all over
with both large and small islands, all
rocky, and well-wooded, and beautifully
picturesque. True, there is not very much
to do except bathe, boat, and fish ; but it
is an ideal place for a good loaf. I have
been here a week, and have been swimming
a great deal—had good luck, too, at the
fishing, and caught a Sib. bass on a very
light rod the other day—grand sport. I
was down the St. Lawrence for ten days
before coming here, amongst the 1,000
islands, and very jolly it was, too. . .
Since I test wrote, I have been to South
Africa, but only for a short time. I took
900 horses out from here by myself—only
lost 11 in 36 days—but was unfortunate
in not getting any fighting, as they ordered
me back to Canada. I had a good shooting
trip last fall, and a real rough time, clean
away in the backwoods and a hundred
miles or so away from civilization. I got
two Moose—one beautiful head, almost a
record, and perfectly matched horns
measuring a spread of 66 inches—they are
truly noble beasts, and rightly styled
' King of the Forest.' There's no doubt
that this is a magnificent country in every
way. with a great future before it."
*
*
All such letters *as above are most
welcome contributions. We hope to receive many of them.
*
* * *
Pop goes the Weasel.
Up and down the City-road,
In and out the Eagle,
That's the way the money goes,
Pop goes the weasel.
Half-way through the last century, this
was a very popular song. A correspondent
once remarked in the Mbrning Pott, " It
has always remained a mystery to naturalists and others, why a weaael should pop."
Another correspondent solved the mystery
to the satisfaction of all who fondly
connect the old song with memories of
boyhood. "The word weasel, in the slang
of the period, meant the family plate. It
stands to reason that after the wild expenditure of careering up and down the
City-road, paying the admission and concomitant expenses in the Eagle, the best
means of replenishing the purse was to
pop the weasel—i.e., to pawn the family
jtlate."
» * »
Sir, that you have sent very kindly 2
trousers for me ; but when the parcel was
opened, it contained only one trouser—the
coat of which you gave me before. The
parcel was opened before the KMreamah
of D6k Bungalow, and only one was in it
and the other missing. I do not know
what became of the other ; but so far it js
certain that the parcel contained only one.
I very humbly inform you of this, and
remain. Sir, your most obedient servant,
Bux, Shikari."
A Crushing Retort.
At Simpson's Chess Divan in the Strand,
professional players foregather to chat and
play. It is the rule there that all games
should be played for a stake of one shilling,
but the veteran Bird and the late Bod en
were accustomed to play one another for
the love of the game only. We remember
hearing a good story anent these famous
masters at '• Simpson's." A spectator
watching them play made himself very
objectionable by a running fire of comments on the moves, and at the conclusion
observed to Boden, the winner, "I am glad
to see, Mr. Bodeu, that you don't care for
filthy lucre." "It's not the filthy lucre,
sir." replied Boden, " but the filthy lookeron that I don't care for."
PROM THE COMPOSITION CLASS.
Earl's Court Exhibition.
ijapHE men at the turnstiles are dressed
V-' as firemen. Further on there are
old relics of ancient well-known fires, and
models of German, French, and American
fire-engines and escapes. Passing on you
come to the lake. The first thing tbat
meets your eye is a telescopic fire-escape,
which towers above your head. Electric
boats are seen on it also. As you go-on
round the lake, you hear a shrill whistle
behind you. and you see a motor fire#
*
engine going round the lake with people
*
on it. When you have passed over'a
Some statistics respecting the traffic of
bridge
decorated with coloured lights, you
the Strand at its junction with Wellington
Street are of interest. Enumerators were hear a loud splash and a scream of delight;
stiitioned there between 8 a.m. and 8 p m. you look—and see a flat-bottomed boat
on July 3rd and 4th, 1902 The average coming down the Canadian Water Chute
at a tremendous pace—then, suddenly—
numbers of vehicles panning the Morning
Putt office on each day were :—Omnibuses, Splash ! Splnsh I and then a great rush of
4,463 ; private carriages. 742 ; cabs. 5,721 ; water—and it is in the water ! You then
vans, 6.94&; barrows, 724; motors, 60; come to a long passage, at the end of
which everybody is crowding to get tickets
bicycles, 1.069. Total, 19,724.
for the Fire Exhibition. Having bought
Morning Post, Sept. 21. 1903.
your ticket you get your seat, and a huge
*
*
arena is before you. with a large curtain
*
A Slight Misconception.
in the middle. There is a brass band conWalter Malan, I.C.S., sends us the fol- sisting of firemen. When the curtain goes
lowing correspondence which passed be- up, ancient firemen come in, dating from
tween himself and an Indian Shik&ri:—
the Romans upwards. Then the scene is
in the City—a church clock chimes 11—a
-To Ala Bux, Shikari.
theatre has just ended, and the audience
•' Lahore, March 26th, 1903.
" I send herewith a pair of trousers, are coming out. An old cart with its
which I promised you the last time I went driver half-asleep blocks the way for the
out shooting with you. Please acknow- hansom-cabs, and a policeman takes him
up. London is as busy as ever. The inledge their receipt.
"W. M
"
mates of a large shop are plainly seen to
be struggling to keep down a fire that is
" To Mr, M
" Gurdaspur, 3rd April, '03.
started inside. A huge volume of smoke
Sir,—I have received your letter of curls up through the centre of a large
the 26$h ultimo. In your letter you say, building, and the whole basement is in
flames. The shop-girls run out screaming.
A fire-engine opines galloping round the
corner, and starts working—then an escape.
A woman and a man appear on the roof of
the building—a first attempt is made with
a fire-escape, but of no use 1 In vain a
second attempt is made! But a third
with success I Howls of delight come
from the other inmates of the house who
have escaped. By that time several
engines have arrived. A map appears on
the fourth story of the house—a large
canvas sheet is held out for him to jump
into—he jumps, and lands safely. Thus
everyone is rescued—the engines have
almost extinguished the fire—and the
curtain drops.
Ji H. DABLET.
*
*
*
Buffalo Bill's Wild West.
The great Show opened with an introduction to the whole number of cowboys,
Indians, Americans, etc. They rashed in
by tens, and as the ground sloped down to
the middle from both ends, it was very
effective. Then the famous Colonel Cody
appears in the arena, with an attendant
who throws glass balls in the air as they
trot along ; and if Buffalo Bill shot driven
partridges as well as he hit those glass
balls, there would not be a bird for miles.
There one sees very wonderful shooting
by Johnnie Baker, at clay pigeons. After
having broken about 20, he shot backwards, but when he was sitting down on
a chair he unfortunately sat on a tin-tack.
He then shot standing on his head. I
cannot remember him missing one the
whole time. There were the Bucking
Brooches, which jumped and kicked as if
they were mad. The performances of the
Cowboys in the saddle — they dropped
their handkerchiefs and picked them up
with great agility. One man rode three
horses, standing with one foot on each of
the two outside ones, and then he jumped
a low wall. There were side-shows as well
—a giant, 8ft. 2in. high, who held a dwarf
lady 21in. high, weighing 131bs. There
was also a Blue Man, who was blue all
over, owing to a fall—and various other
wonderful things.
J. C. B. HAWKINS.
*
* •*
A Trip to the Channel Islands.
At the beginning of last holidays, as my
father was going inspecting the Coastguard Stations in the Channel Islands, he
took my mother and myself with him.
We started from Southampton, at midnight, on a Monday, and by half-past six
on Tuesday morning, Guernsey could be
made out through a thin sea-mist. We got
into St. Peter's Port at about half-past
seven, and after breakfasting there, we
steamed out to sea again, bound for Jersey.
At a little after ten o'clock, we landed at
St. Heliers, and in a short time we were
in a carriage on our way to the various
coastguard stations round the Island. After
several hours' driving we came to the
little town of Gorey, and whilst ray father
was inspecting the station there, my
mother and I went over the grim old
fortress of '• Mont Orgueil." Th6 chief
warder showed us round, and we saw
many most interesting things, such as a
very deep well, dug by the Romans; a
damp, dark dungeon, in the crypt of the
chapel, built by William the Conqueror's
father; the cell in which a clergyman
named Prynne. having been put in the
pillory, and having had his ears cut off,
was imprisoned for three years in Charles
I.'s reign, and the condemned cell, with
just outside it, part of the original beam
from which they used to hang criminals,
and the "Black Flag." When we got back
to our Hotel, it was too late to go out and
see anything of St Heliers. BO I don't
know anything about it. Early next
morning we started for St. Peter's Port,
Guernsey, and again had a drive round
the island seeing many curious things and
places, amongst others the •• Haunted
House," of Plenmont, which figures in the
book, •• The Toilers of the Sea "; the old
castle of "Rocquaine"; "Lea Hanois"
Lighthouse and rock; and last, but n i t
least, a splendid view of the grand old
fort, Castle Cornet, as we drove into St.
Peter's Port. The next day my father crossed by boat to Alderney, leaving my
mother and myself to see something of St.
Peter's Port. In the morning I had a
delicious bathe, and after that walked
round the town, looking at shops, the
library, the market, and the quaint old
church. In the afternoon, I went up the
" Victoria Memorial Tower," commemorating a visit of Queen Victoria to the
Island, at the beginning of her reign. I
then went and had tea with some cousins,
and after meeting my father, we all went
back to the Hotel together. The next
morning we caught the early boat to
Southampton, and after a remarkably
smooth and clear crossing (for at one
time we were able to see the Channel
Islands of Guernsey, Jersey, Alderney, and
Sark, besides the Caskets and the coast of
France), reached Southampton about five
o'clock in the afternoon.
L. PITCAIBN JONES.
REMARKS ON COMPOSITION.
jSpHE specimens of Composition given
*ly above were selected from papers
written by most of the boys at Preparation
in the schoolroom. The boys were told to
write a ' Magazine article ' on any subject
likely to prove of interest to readers. No
further hint or assistance was given.
Darley's paper is commended for its
spirited style, good command of language,
and clear comprehensive grasp of the
scene described. His punctuation however
was slovenly, and had to be improved.
Hawkins deserves similar praise in less
degree, and must likewise pay more attention to stops. Jones' paper is given without an amendment of any kind, and would
probably have been placed above the others
in an Examination. But his composition
is somewhat heavy, and lacks the smart
incisiveness, and sparkle, which characterise
Darley's paper—the difference resembles
that between soda water as it comes out of
a syphon, and the same when it has become
flat.
Many other papers were creditable, and
some might have been given, but for errors
of spelling, &c. The appearance of boys'
writings in print should be a stimulus for
improvement.
Spelling and Punctuation are the tirst
essentials; Style may strengthen in
character by carefully read-ing books, and
trying to understand the construction of
sentences, and to feel the secret of their
force. It is not easy to teach boys to
write in good style. A few general rules
may be given, such as, to avoid slangy,
trivial and weak words \iliQ pretty, nice, lot,
&c., to avoid the repetition of the same
word; to use simple words; not to string
a number of sentences together of the
same sort, like a brood of ducks waddling
across a field. But beyond such simple
advice, boys must in great measure form
their own style, and its quality will depend
very much upon their mental endowments.
Read good English, and digest it. is an
invaluable piece of advice.
Boys often write essays in Board Schools,
which have no intrinsic merit, yet lot
genuine comicality they might challenge
the best efforts of an American humourist.
With every intention of being serious, the
authors prove screamingly ridiculous.
Here is an example:—
Essay on the Cat.
The house-cat is a four-legged quadruped, the legs, as usuer, being at the
corners. It is sometimes what is called a
tame animal, though it feeds on mice and
other birds of prey. Its colours are striped,
tortusshell, black, also black and white,
and uthers. When it is happy it does not
bark, but breathes through its nose instead
of its mouth, but I cant remember the
name they call the noise. It is a little
word, but I cant think of it and it is
wrong to copy. Cats also mow, which you
have all herd. When you stroke this tame
quadruped by drawing your hand along its
back, it cocks up its tail like a ruler, so as
you cant get no further. Never stroke
the hairs acrost, as it makes all cats scrat
like mad. Its tail is about two-foot long,
and its legs about one each. Never stroke
a cut under the belly, as it is very unhealthy. Dont teeze cats, for firstly it is
wrong so to do, and 2nd cats have clawses
which is longer than people think. Cats
have nine liveses. but which is seldom
required in this country because of
Christianity. Men cats are allus called
Tom, and girl cats Puss or Tiss ; but queer
as you may think, all little cats are called
kittens, which is a wrong name which
oughter be changed. This tame quadruped
can see in the dark, so rats stand no
chants, much less mice.
Here is another example, even more
funny:—
Essay on Breathing.
Breath is made of air. We breathe with
our lungs, our lights, our liver, and our
kidneys. If it wasn't for our breath, we
would die when we slept. Our breath
keeps the life agoing through the nose
when we are asleep. Boys that stay in a
room all day should not breathe. They
should wait till they get outdoors. Bpys
m a room make carbonicide. Carbonicide
is poisoner than mad dogs. A heap of
soldiers was in a black hole in India, and
a carbon icide got in that black hole and
killed nearly everyone afore morning.
Girls kill the breath with corsets that
squeezes the diagram. Girls can't run or
holler like boys because their diagram i^
squeezed too much, if I was a girl, I
rather be u boy, so I can boiler and run
and hare a great big diagram.
English Composition is of great importance in all Examinations, and the first
essential for its attainment is Accurate
Spelling, the foundations of which ought
to be securely laid by the governess before
a boy comes to school. This important
matter is so often neglected in the early
years, that valuable time, which ought to be
devoted to the more advanced demands of
the subject, has often to be wasted over
nursery work.
The following passage was once dictated
slowly, the harder words being pronounced
by syllables distinctly emphasised, so that
it was fondly hoped that mistakes would
be few and far between :—" The Bishop of
Peterborough informed one of the Vicars
in his diocese that he intended to perform
some ecclesiastical ceremony in the parish.
His Lordship was invited to luncheon at
the Vicarage. When the eventful day
arrived, owing to some domestic trouble,
the Vicar found himself without either
cook or parlour-maid. The difficulty was
solved by two young ladies in the neighbourhood, who volunteered to perform the
services of both. The Bishop pronounced
the dinner to be one of the best he had
ever eaten, and complimented the Vicar
on the excellence of the cookery. He
laughed heartily when the' servants' afterwards joined the party in the drawingroom."
A new boy, 81 years old, sent up the
following version :—"The BisherPeterbure
informer one vikes in his disces that he
inteended to perform some exclesiascal
cemorney in the parash. His lorgeshipe
was invitet to luncag at the vicrekig.
Wene the enventuel day erved, onging to
soum domesk . . . with out ither coke or
paler made. The defeltty was resorveld
by two young ladeys in the naborhoud, and
vonlted to perfermen the sives of both.
The Bishop prones the diner to be one of
the best he had . . . and comprly the
vicker one the exlence of the cokery, he
laft harther when the servents. . . . "
An appalling amount of valuable time
must needs be expended to bring such a
system of spelling up to the Naval requirements I Meantime how must other
all-important subjects suffer loss I Such
a deplorable exhibition should impress
parents with the necessity of insisting
upon the strictest possible attention to
spelling in the early years of governess
rule.
An indignant parent once wrote to complain of his son's gross ignorance of
spelling, and he summed up his indictment
thus:—"In these days of compedative
examinations, it is of the utmost importance that a boy should be made to spell
correctly." There is no disputing the truth
of this statement, but the foundations of
correct spelling should be securely laid
before the age of 8J, if competitive
examinations are to be encountered with
success.
On the paper containing the " The Bisher
Peterbure,' the boy further wrote these
sentences from dictation :—Ther are sown
buliiulen ochen, wich are oyled onlea by the
government shertes,
Thoit ihewted mare,
the eger, the placitse are -aether are lemprited
by seebreas fegetites and the sime.
If any reader can suggest any interpretation of this extraordinary stuff, the
Editor would be grateful. There seems to
be allusion to zebras and pheasants in the
last line. Perhaps the boy who wrote the
original—he is still in the School—may
recognise his first Dictation lesson, and be
able to supply the ' crib.'
* * # *
PRIZE COMPETITION.
<j|rHE Editorial Committee regret that
^f^ their proposal of a Prize Competition met with the chilling discouragement of no response. An impression
seems to have prevailed that the problems
were too difficult; but that is hardly a
fair excuse for no attempt to solve them.
The experiment, however, shall be tried
once more.
A PBIZR is OFFERED for the best solutions, &c., sent in before Christmas Day,
of the following very simple tests :—
1.—Double Acrostic.
Amusement for all! for both young and
for old!
At Drury Lane best, so at least I am told.
1. Swimmers beware I for it may you
attack
In arms, or in legs, or in feet, or in back.
2. Sometimes a greeting, and often a shout;
Search in the dictionary—you'll find it
out!
3. Why only half ? To this question so
poor.
Bookbinders will answer, but I am not
sure.
4. An adjective this, and made still to inscribe,
For the spirit which tipplers do cheaply
imbibe.
5. It blows from the East and from Africa's
sands,
O'er Mediterranean and neighbouring
strands.
6. It needs not a proof, and it's perfectly
plain.
That an egg is an egg, and a pain is a
pain.
7. A fine race of men, industrious, steady,
Tho' black be their skin; to learn ever
ready.
8."That the Russians will seize it, there
can be no doubting,
The protests of Europe continually
flouting.
9. Now, are you a chemist 1 Know you
aught of soda 1
Of the latter a product. No taste and
no odour.
* No. 8 to be reversed.
2.—He caught a cough, through sitting
with his houglts on a tough, eating tough
dough. Write another sentence similar to
this, to show the different ways of pronouncing words ending in ongh.
3.—I saw a peer appear on a pier, and
pare a pear with a pair of sclzzors. Write
a sentence of this sort with other words—
the more the merrier.
*4.—Write 8 lines of poetry on any subject, ending with—ball, bell, call, tell, day,
light, play, night.
5.—Draw a funny face.
Answers.
Prize Competition, June
Number.
Double Acrostic.
C r e a M
R e g a 11 A
InsolenT
C
o
C (tile)
K o o H (reversed)
E 1 i d u r E (Wordsworth)
T a n t a lu S
2.—A visiting card is oblong instead of
square for sake of convenience.
(Limited space prevents our giving
diagrams and explanations).
3. —A shepherd would arrange the 50
hurdles in two parallel lines of 24,
with one hurdle transverse at either
end. To double the area he would
put two hurdles at the ends. Rule
of Three fails here, because the word
pen includes the idea of area ; and
60 hurdles, merely given as a number, do not. No true proportion
exists between the component parts
of the statement.
One might as
well ask : — If a man has had two
wives before he is 65, how many
will he have had before he is 85 1
4. — Let b be the number of birds
I
„
„
lizards
36 heads,
100 feet
. • . J plus I = 36
and 2b plus 41 = 100
Solving the equation, we find
b = 22
I = 14
5. —A map of the world is drawn in two
hemispheres, because it is impossible
to show both sides of a sphere otherwise on a flat surface.
A THRILLING EXPERIENCE.
\_Adapted from the French, by C. ST. A. LKE.]
(JJ!»HE scene of the story I am about to
*** tell you is laid not a thousand miles
from a well-known town in the beautiful
pine district of Berkshire. Tne spot is a
lonely one enough where the following
thrilling events occurred. My reader will
excuse me if I dp not enlighten him as to
the real causes which drove me to seek
solitude in this primeval spot and to shun
the society of my fellow-men. Suffice it
to say thnt I was a confirmed misanthropist
and my one passion and delight was in
music. Well endowed with this world's
goods, I was able to devote a sum of money
(a sum large enough to have provided a
comfortable income for many men) to the
pursuit which had become a real passion
with me —-collecting old and valuable
violins. Amongst the latter were numbered two '• Amatis " : not that I was a
mere • dilettante ' in matters musical, for
I flatter myself that I was no mean performer on both violin and piano.
My house was small but comfortable,
and absolutely isolated. Surrounded by
pine woods, the nearest habitation to it
was that immense pile of buildings, some
half-mile distant, so well-known in the
district as the great Government Lunatic
Asylum. Magnificently situated, overlooking a glorious panorama of woodland
scenery stretching right away into Hampshire, the Asylum is a landmark for miles
around. My sole companion in the house
was a worthy old dame of some sixty
summers, who acted as my house-keeper,
cook, and general factotum. Having put
my reader in possession of these few but
sufficient detail?, I will now unfold my
story.
One evening in May of the year 1899, 1
was sitting alone in my smoking-room—
the house was very still, for even Mrs.
Darden (the aforesaid house-keeper) had
warned me that it was "her evening out"—
perhaps it would be about half-past seven,
when as my custom was. I took my
favourite •• Amati," and was soon engrossed in drawing from it the sweet
strains which only those know and appreciate whose privilege it has been to hear
one of those grand old instruments played
on. It was the " Kreuzer Sonata " that I
was lost in, when suddenly there was a
sharp rap on the door, and in came a man
of striking appearance. Of middle height,
iron-grey hair, clearly cut features, a handsome man one might have said, but marred
by the deathly pallor of his complexion and
the unnatural brightness of his eyes.
" You will excuse me," said my unknown
visitor, placing his hat on the floor and
seating himself opposite to me. " You
will excuse this sadden intrusion, but I
was passing by, and hearing the lovely
strains of your violin, an uncontrollable
impulse seized me and dragged me in here
as it were by main force. I have nothing
more to say I Can you accept this as my
apology 1"
My interlocutor stopped abruptly, and
fixed his eyes on me with such a pleading
look, that for the moment I remained
speechless. What could I say? I evidently had to deal with an eccentric kind
of person, to say the least of it, and so I
faltered, " Oh 1 no apology is needed .• I
am pleased to think that my music should
have given you such pleasure."
'• Ah, then," he broke in, " I know you
will not deny me one request."
" Name it," said I.
" That you will just play for me once
again that glorious Kreuser Sonata," was
his answer; and then, folding his arms
and shutting his eyes, he leaned back in
his chair evidently expecting that I should
do as he begged. Something in both
manner and face of my visitor seemed to
draw my sympathies to him, aud I determined to do as he wished. Once again I
took my " Amati," and so soon was I engrossed in the " Sonata " that I hardly felt
even conscious of the man seated in the
chair in front of me.
I might have been playing for about five
minutes, when, as it were some magnetic
impulse caused me to look up from my
violin to my visitor. Imagine my horror
as I saw that the latter was standing—or
rather half-crouching in front of me, as
though about to spring at my throat! His
eyes staring out of his head, the unearthly
pallor of his face intensified as it were by
passion, and his whole demeanour suggesting a murderous impulse! In a moment,
like a flash of lightning he was on me, his
fingers clutching convulsively at my throat:
I felt powerless in his grasp I Then suddenly all was changed 1 He relaxed his grip on
me and fell sobbing at my feet !
"Oh forgive me! forgive me!" he
pleaded. " I was beside myself and knew
not what I was doing! only listen to me
for a few minutes, and you will see what
all this means—nay! you shall listen to
me" he cried, on seeing me edge near to
the door (for by now I was fully persuaded
that I had to deal with a dangerous
lunatic), and blocking my way, "you must
and shall hear my story I"
Discretion is sometimes the better part
of valour, and I quickly resolved to sit down
quietly, and then avail myself of the first
opportunity of making my escape, locking
my friend in the room, and getting help if
possible. No sooner had I determined on
this plan of action than I put it into
execution, and affecting indifference at his
sudden outburst I Said quietly, " My poor
fellow, I can see that you have suffered
greatly—I too have suffered, and can feel
for you;' tell me your story, and I will
listen to it patiently. If I can in any way
help you, rely on my doing my utmost."
There was a moment's silence, only
broken by the laboured breathing of my
guest, who had now re-seated himself
opposite to me, and was evidently master
of himself again. He then spoke and told
me the sad story of his life. It was an
old story—such a story as many a man and
woman can tell—an unhappy love story.
I will not weary you, my reader, with it,
but just tell you one important detail in
it. On the evening in which the dreams
of his life were wrecked, he too had been
playing the ''Kreuzer Sonata." He said
how never since that fateful night in June
he had heard this Sonata played—how that
it sometimes would haunt him—how its
melodies rang in the very ears of his soul—
how that my playing of it this evening had
opened afresh the very wounds he had
believed healed. Ah, it was maddening,
this Sonata 1
Throughout the recital of his unhappy
history my unwelcome friend had kept
fairly calm, but towards the end his
manner became more excited, and I clearly
saw that another paroxysm of rage and
madness was about to seize him. Forewarned by. my previous experience, I
watched him narrowly, and as he again
sprang at me, I just managed to elude his
grasp, and again made for the door.
Quick as lightning he wa's before me and
barred my way. I now saw that I was in
for a desperate struggle and was prepared
for the worst. I closed with my man, but
soon felt I was no match for him. Possessed as he was of immense muscular
strength, I was a very child in his grasp.
Round and round the room we went, and
at last with one herculean effort he flung
me from him against the window, which
dashed into fragments under my weight,
and I fell bleeding and half-stunned to
the ground.
Some seconds might have elapsed—my
madman standing guard over me as I lay
on the floor, when to my joy I heard footsteps outside I Help was at hand. At the
very moment when the infuriated madman was about to seize me again by the
throat, the door was flung open, and in
rushed three men—one frock-coated and
top-hatted, the other two in the familiar
garb of warders from the neighbouring
asylum.
"Thank Heaven we are in time 1 "
shouted the doctor (there was no mistaking his professional look) ; " Thank
Heaven we are in time I "
On the arrival of tho Doctor and his
warders, my assailant had loosed his grip
on me, and rushed into the further corner
of the room, seizing a chair as he did ao.
and putting himself in a defensive position.
" We have here to do with a very dangerous lunatic," said the Doctor to me ; " had
we not discovered his escape and tracked
him here immediately, your life would
.have been imperilled I We will now relieve
you of his presence."
So saying he signed to the two warders
to seize the wretched man. This order,
however, was not so easy in execution, for,
as they approached nearer the madman, he
whirled the chair (a stout mahogany one)
round his head with such swiftness and
power, as to effectually keep the warders
at bay! This continued for a minute or
so, and the Doctor seemed nonplussed 1
" I am afraid it's the sight of you that
enrages him, especially if you have been
playing to him," said he, casting his eyes
on my " Amati." " I wonder if you could
slip out of the door quickly, and then in
all probability he will calm down."
I was only too glad to act on his suggestion. Edging my way gently to the
door, I took the handle, and half turned
it, but to no purpose. Once again the
madman rushed and flung himself on me 1
By the united aid of my three protectors I
was freed from his grip. In the struggle
one of the warders had been apparently
stunned by a blow from the chair and lay
on the floor "hors do combat." The maniac
was now in front of the door and barred
that means of exit. From the way in
which he eyed the window, I saw that he
had no intention for me to escape that
way.
The Doctor held a few seconds hurried
conversation with the warders and then
whispered to me. '• We must absolutely
get you out of his sight. What is in that
large cupboard near you ? "
I replied that it was empty, and suggested that if the Doctor could edge with me
near to it, I might slip inside, and then at
least the lunatic would be relieved of my
presence.
" Capital! " said he. " Gently does it:
slowly and quietly ! Your life depends on
it."
You ask me how I got into that cupboard, reader? I can hardly tell you—but
I did it. In spite of another furious
attack on the warders I scrambled into
my harbour of refuge, and the key was
deftly turned by the Doctor. The key
was left in the hole so that I could not
see what happened in the room, but judging from the sounds a fearful struggle
took place between the madman and his
would-be captors. The scuffle must have
gone on for five minutes or more (it
seemed hours to me in my prison) and
then, following a banging of tbe door and
footsteps in ttye passage, was deep silence.
Thinking it safer to " lie low " for a time,
I remained motionless. My legs were
pretty well aching by thia time, for I was
half-sitting, half-standing, be it known,
in a very limited space.
After some time had elapsed, I knocked
gently at the cupboard door, which was, as
I hare said, locked. No response I The
Doctor in his'anxiety to get his patient
away had, it would seem, quite forgotten
me! Be that as it may, I remained a
prisoner for the time being. How long I
was kept in durance vile I cannot say, but
it was not till {he evening was far advanced that I heard the door of the room open
and I recognised the footsteps of Mrs.
•Burden.
'•What ever 'as been a'appening here?"
I heard her exclaim.
I banged hard on the cupboard door,
with the only effect of pretty nearly
frightening the good dame out of her wits;
but on bearing, and recognising my voice,
she pulled herself together and came and
effected my rescue.
" Where's the lunatic ?" I cried, oblivious
of the fact that he had been carried off
some two hours since.
"Lunatic?" she cried "what Lunatic?"
evidently thinking that it was I who had
taken leave of my senses !
- In a few moments I briefly described to
her what had happened in her absence.
" Well I never 1 Dearie me ! Dearie
me!" was all the sympathy I got from her.
I then cast my eyes round the room. All
was in disorder. My first thought was for
my 'Amati,' fearing it might have been
damaged in the struggle. A cold chill ran
down my spine as I found it missing. I
rushed to my desk only to find it broken
open and all my money and other valuables
missing! My precious " Straduarius " gone
—" objects de vertu "—the collection of a
life time—priceless in value, all gone I
Suddenly the truth flashed on mel
Doctor I Warders 1 Lunatic I Not a bit of
it.- I was the victim of a e&ne of thieves 1
THE BUFUS STONE, NEW KOBEST,
WHEBB WILLIAM H. FELL BY THE HAND OF WAIiTEB TXSREL,
BY
M. I. R. POLKINGHORNE, B.A..
Author of " Crawford's Stratagem," " The affair of the Ghost at St. Dunstan's,"
" A Summer's Afternoon" etc., etc.
.
, .. . ,
CHAPTER I.
f
T was the middle of April in Ramghur
and the hot weather had already
began. In the gardens the trees
and shrubs stood dry and shrivelled,
and their scattered leaves were blown up
and down the dusty roads by a hot dry
wind. All, whom duty or poverty did not
detain, had long ago left the sweltering
Cantonment for the cooler climate of the
misty Himalayas.
Along the deserted road from the Club
to the Cavalry Barracks came two men on
horseback. The older of the two was
Philip Gawaiu, of the Royal Engineers, a
slim dark man with keen, clever grey eyes.
His companion, Barney O'Rorke, subaltern
in a crack regiment of native cavalry, was
a long-legged, loose-jointed, blue-eyed
young Irishman, with a fund of animal
spirits which even the hot weather could
not subdue. The two men were friends in
spite of many differences in character, and
chummed together in the same bungalow.
" I say, O'Rorke," said G-awain suddenly,
" let's go through the Bazaar."
" Whatever for ? " asked O'Rorke, in
some surprise, for even the hot road was
cooler than that teeming place.
" Oh, I promised to get a doll for Henderson's little kid," explained G-awain.
"But you goon, old fellow, I'll catchyou up."
This, however, O'Rorke refused to do, so
they both turned their horses' heads in the
direction of the bazaar. The bazaar was
narrow and thronged with ekhas, camels,
and bullock-carts, as well as crammed
with human beings.
The two young men dismounted,'and
while G-awain entered a large general shop
where they sold everything from the latest
fashion in .hats to candlesticks and pills,
O'Rorke strolled aimlessly through the
crowd.
Suddenly a hand was clapped on his
shoulder, and an eager voice cried in his
ear, " Hullo, O'Rorke, come and have your
fortune told'!"
O'Rorke turned to face young Blake of
the' D.P.W., who was grinning at him with
delight, and evidently bubbling over with
the news of some great discovery. ' ' " ,
" How much 1 ". asked O'Rorke, in "surprise.
" Why, I have unearthed a renowned
Fakir," explained Blake eagerly, " who
tells fortunes in fine style." Oum'e' and be
done. Oh, here's Gawaiu," as O'Rorke's
chum now appeared, having completed his
purchases. " I aay, Gawain, O'Rorke is
going to have his fortune told. Come and
be done."
•' Yes, and I expect we shall be done,
too," said Gawaiu, laughing, as they
followed young Blake.
He led them to a comparatively quiet
part of the bazaar, where the old Fakir
was sitting on the ground. He rose as
they approached, salaamed, and then sat
down again.
He was an old man, very emaciated.
He wore a simple loin cloth and a string
of huge beads. His legs were bandy, his
ribs seemed to start from his body, and his
forehead and chest were daubed with
ashes.
"Shall I tell the stars of the Lord
Sahib 1" asked the old man, addressing
Gawain.
"Go on," whispered Blake, giving Gawain
a nudge. The young soldier stepped forward and held out his hand. Then the
Fakir rose and drew his lean form to its
full height. What a contrast the two
figures presented, as they stood face to
face—the tall, slim, young Englishman,
clad in lily-white drill, with his handsome
face and well-groomed air; and the half,
naked Fakir with his matted hair and wild
black eyes. He glanced at Gawaiu's hand,
and then looked up in his face with a long
stare. There was silence for a moment,
only broken by a subdued chuckle from
Blake, and then the Fakir spoke in sonorous
Hindustani with the voice of one pronouncing a judgment.
" Oh yea, thou hast a soft heart."
" Right there, old boy," muttered Blake
with a grin.
•'Shut up," whispered O'Rorke seriously,
"he is speaking."
" I smell death"—a pause—" death in the
rushing waters, for lo, there is a man—
dark, whose eyebrows meet—he will come
between theeand thy friend—he will bring
death to thee—Oh Sahib."
He paused again, salaamed to the earth
and once more squatted on his heels.
Silence fell on the three men when the
Fakir concluded, and O'Rorke felt a
curious shudder run through his veins.
Then Gawain gave a soft incredulous
laugh. " What rubbish," he cried lightly.
" Well, O'Eorke, do you want to be done ?• "
" No, thanks," said O'Eorke, shortly.
So with a nod to Blake the two men
turned away and went back to their
horses.
"You look very glum, O'Eorke," said
Gawain, as they rode off to their bungalow. " What's up t "
O'Eorke did not answer for a moment.
To tell the truth he was thinking of the
Fakir's prophecy, and he could not get
over a strange conviction that in that
prophecy he had heard his friend's death
sentence. He glanced at Gawain's keen
clever face and bright grey eyes. Then he
said finally—
" Oh, nothing much. I've got rather a
headache, that's all."
It would have been difficult to explain
his fears to his practical comrade, who
regarded the Fakir's words as absolute
rubbish.
That evening, as the two men sat smoking on the verandah outside the bungalow,
Gawain asked idly—
" Why didn't you have your fortune
told, O'Eorke ? "
" Why ? " echoed O'Eorke with a start.
" Oh, I don't know." Then savagely—
" Hang that wretched Fakir."
" Hallo," cried Gawain, laughing. •' What
are you so wrathy about t "
O'Eorke did not answer.
Gawain puffed vigorously at his cigarette
for a few moments. Then a sudden
thought struck him. He sat up quickly.
" O'Rorke," he cried, and his voice held
the sound of laughter. " You don't mean
to say you believe in that prophecy do
you! "
For a moment O'Rorke was. silent. ^It
was a question he would rather not have
answered, especially to Gawain, with his
scornful ridicule of all such things.
" Do you ? " repeated Gawain.
" Well yes, I suppose I do," said O'Eorke
honestly, although he flushed crimson as
he spoke.
" You see I am Irish, and—and we
O'Rorkes are always superstitious."
Gawaiu laughed quietly and scornfully.
" Then at that rate you believe I have
not very long to live. How was I to die 1
In the rushing waters ? "
" I don't believe that," cried O'Rorke,
hotly. " At least—I don't want—I mean—
Oh, hang it, I can't explain."
Gawaiu chuckled with evident amusement.
" What is it you want to explain 7"
he asked. " Nothing," said O'Rorke, ''only
if I were you I should be jolly careful of
dark men whose eyebrows meet."
Gawain threw back his head and laughed.
" Oh, Barney, you infant," he cried. " I
did give you credit for more sense."
" I don't see I'm so very absurd," said
O'Rorke, doggedly. " After all there are
cases of prophecies coming true and—"
" Rubbish," interrupted Gawaiu, lightly ;
" its a mere coincidence,
or else people have
brooded over a prophecy
to such an extent that
they have unconsciously
brought it about. But" to
believe in that Fakir—bah
—its utterly ridiculous.'1
Then, after a pause—
"'Pon m y w o r d ,
O'Rorke. if I were a
superstitions or nervous
man, you would be a nice
chum to have.
You
calmly tell me you believe
all that the old Fakir
prophesied about me is
coming true. Well, that
is good."
And Gawain laughed
again and again.
" Oh, shut up," cried
O'Rorfce, angrily. •• I don't
mean that I positively
believe the thing, only—
only—Oh, hang it all, you
THE FAKIR
don't understand."
O'Rorke got up and
strode away, feeling a
little hurt and angry.
He could not
explain exactly to Gawain the strange
fears that the Fakir's words had raised up
in his mind. Heaven knows he did not
want to believe in them. In fact he did
not actually believe, but he was afraid—
afraid for his friend, and what worried
him most was the thought of this strange
dark man who was jto come between
Gawain and himself.
" Hang it, I suppose I am a fool," he
muttered, as he went off to bed ; " time
enough to believe in it when the fellow
actually appears."
*
*
*
CHAPTER II.
" I say, Barney," cried Gawain the next
morning, entering the west verandah where
O'Rorke was lying in a lounge chair reading the Pioneer. "My cousin has just
landed in Bombay."
" Your cousin in Bombay," repeated
O'Rorke, slowly. " Why I didn't know
you had a cousin."
" Yes I have," said Gawain, dropping
into a chair; "but I've never seen him.
You see, my father quarrelled with his
sister because she married a German
fellow. There was no end of a row I
SPOKE—" I SMELL DEATH—DEATH IN
THE RUSHING WATERS."
believe. But I hate family quarrels, and
he's the only relation I have; I don't see
why we should be at daggers drawn. I
have invited him here."
" When did you hear about him ?" asked
O'Rorke, with some cariosity.
" Oh, 1 have known of his existence
for some time," said Gawain. " You see he
is my heir."
For Gawain possessed a large income
besides his pay, and some property in
England.
" Oh, no wonder he wanted to look you
up," said O'Rorke, cynically.
"You're wrong there, my boy," cried
Gawain, quickly, " for as a matter of fact
I looked him up. I wrote to him some
months ago inviting him out here, and
to-day I got a letter saying he has landed
in Bombay."
" What's his name 1 " asked O'Rorke.
" Oh, a regular German one — Karl
Stein thai."
"Karl Steinthal," repeated O'Rorke,
musingly. " Why I believe I met a fellow
of that name in Paris three or four years
ago. Is he a musician ? "
" Yes," said Gawain.
"Then this must be the same fellow,"
cried O'Rorke. "How strange. I re-
member he seemed awfully interested in
India, but he didn't say anything about
you."
" What was he like ? " asked Gtawain.
" I don't know, I hardly remember," said
O'Rorke, slowly. " He seemed rather
decent."
" Well," said Gawain, rising and stretching himself. " I must make arrangements
to put him up here." .
" Hang him," muttered O'Rorke, yawning. He did not relish the idea of having
a German musician sprung upon him.
"But I say, Gawain, supposing he can't
stand the hot weather."
"Then he must go off to the hills by
himself," said Gawain, " for I can't possibly ask for leave so soon again."
" Begorra, then I hope the heat will
prove too much for him,"growled O'Rorke.
" In fact I shouldn't be at all surprised if
it did," he added, with a twinkle in his
eye.
Gawain wheeled round quickly.
" I hope you will remember he is my guest,
O'Rorke," he said, sharply. " I must ask
you not to play the fool with him."
" How you do come down on a fellow,"
grumbled O'Rorke; " I shan't hurt the
beggar."
" Yes, I know ; but I don't want you to
tease him, O'Rorke," explained Gawain.
" You see, he will feel rather out of things
and—"
" Oh, all right," interrupted O'Rorke,
hastily. "I'll be civil to him."
*
*
*
*
*
One afternoon a few days later when
O'Rorke returned from a shooting expedition he saw a stranger sitting by Gawain
on the verandah, and as he drew near the
latter cried.
" Oh, there you are, Barney. This is my
cousin, Karl Steinthal."
O'Rorke approached slowly and looked
at the man who rose to meet him. Then
he started as he saw before him a tall, dark
man, with a sinister brown face and black
eyebrows that met across the nose, giving
a peculiar expression to his countenance.
" This is not Karl Steinthal," cried
O'Rorke, impulsively. " This is not your
cousin, Gawain."
"What do you mean," cried Gawain in
amazement, while the stranger drew himself up haughtily. " Not my cousin 1"
" No," cried O'Rorke, hotly. " He is
not the Karl Steinthal I met in Paris
tferee years ago."
"Ah," cried the stranger, with a little
smile as he motioned Gawain to keep
silent, for the latter was beginning to
expostulate angrily with his chum. " You
say I am not the Karl Steinthal you met
in Paris. That is. quite true, my good
friend, since I have never been in Paris or
have never seen you before; but—"with
a quiet smile—" that does not prove that
my name is not Karl Steinthal. or that I
am not Captain Gawain's cousin."
O'Rorke flushed hotly as he realised the
false step he had made, and his blood
boiled with indignation at the fellow's
cool manner. He glanced at Gawain, but
the latter was looking away from him
with a vexed frown on his face, so with a
rueful shrug of his shoulders O'Rorke
swallowed his pride and anger, and apologised for his mistake.
Steinthal gracefully waved the apology
aside and began a lively and amusing
account of his journey to Ramghur. But
O'Rorke could see that his words still
rankled, and Steinthal's mann«r, although
open and friendly to his cousin, changed
when he addressed him. There was a
spirit of antagonism between the two
men that made itself felt in an undercurrent through their conversation. As
for O'Rorke he had conceived a sudden
dislike for the stranger as soon as his eyes
fell upon him, and try as he would he
could not rid himself of the idea that the
fellow was an impostor.
O'Rorke was glad when Steinthal, pleading fatigue, betook himself to bed, and so
left the two friends alone.
" Gawain," said O'Rorke suddenly, " I
don't like that fellow."
" Umph," grunted Gawain, frowning as
he bent over some official papers.
"And he doesn't like me." continued
O'Rorke, musingly.
" Well, my dear fellow, I'm not surprised," said Gawain, coldly. " It's not
very pleasant to be looked upon as an impostor the moment you come into a strange
place."
There was a silence for a few minutes.
Gawain was busy with his papers, while
O'Rorke smoked vigorously.
" Gawain," he began again.
" What ? " asked Gawain, impatiently.
" Did you notice that fellow's eyebrows .1 "
" His eyebrows ? No," replied Gawain.
" Well, they meet," said O'Korke, slowly.
" My dear fellow, supposing they do,"
cried Gawain, with some
irritation. "What does it
matter ?"
" Yes, but do you remember
the Fafcir's prophecy," said
O'Rorke.
"Good heavens, O'Rorke."
cried Gawain now thoroughly
angry. " Are you mad ? Do
you know what you insinuate
against my cousin ? "
"Yes, if he is your cousin,"
said
O'Rorke,
doggedly.
" Only you see I don't
believe he is."
" 'Pon my word, O'Rorke,
I believe the hot weather
has affected your brain," said
Gawain, angrily.
" What
foundation have you for such
an idea."
"I don't trust the fellow,"
replied O'Rorke. •' And, besides, he's not the Karl
Steinthal I met in Paris,
and I am positive—"
" Rot," interrupted Gawain.
" The name may be fairly
common among Germans."
" Yes—but—"
" Look here, O'Rorke," said Gawain,
sternly. '• Once for all, I don't believe
your absurd ideas and superstitions. That
man is my cousin and guest, and I must
ask you to treat him as such."
" And if I don't 1 " said O'Rorke, an
angry flush mounting to his face,
"Then I'm sorry, but you must find
quarters elsewhere." said Gawain coldly,
as he gathered up his papers.
O'Rorke looked at his friend in silence
for a few minutes; then he gave an awkward little laugh.
" Surely, Gawain." he said slowly, " we
aren't going to quarrel over the fellow."
'• We shall certainly quarrel," retorted
Gawain, " if you persist in acting like an
overgrown schoolboy, and insulting my
cousin with your absurd suspicions."
And with that he took up his papers and
left the room.
O'Rorke sat smoking with a frown on
his boyish face. He did not know whether
he felt more vexed with himself or his
friend. He called himself a suspicious
fool, and yet he was forced to admit that
the Fakir's words were being strangely
fulfilled.
"For the beggar \* coming between.
BY A GREAT EFFORT
GAWAIN MANAGED TO
DRAG HIMSELF ON TO
THE ROOF
Gawain and me," hejmnttered, savagely.
The young soldier thought the world of
his clever and brilliant chum, and had
Gawain known how much he secretly
worried over that Fakir's prophecy he
would have been less inclined to laugh
at what he considered his friend's folly.
*
#
*
CHAPTER III.
To O'Rorke's disgust Steinthal did not
seem to mind the hot weather in the very
least and much preferred the bungalow in
Ramghur to a cooler dwelling on the hills.
So the young fellow had to make the
best of it and be as civil as possible to his
friend's cousin. Steinthal made himself
very popular in the station, but to O'Rorke
he was always stiff and cold, and O'Rorke,
for his part, avoided him, with the result
that he saw comparatively little of his
chum Gawain, and quite unconsciously
they drifted away from each other.
Weeks passed away; the hot weather
was over, and September had come with
its mistd and rains, and still Steinthal
continued his stay.
One evening when O'Rorke returned
from a long ride he was met by Gawain,
who had an eager light in his keen grey
eyes.
"O'Borke," he cried, flourishing a blue
official envelope, ." I have to start for
Garhwal at once with Colonel Collins.
There has been a tremendous landslip in
the mountains—-a most extraordinary
catastrophe, for a big hill has toppled over
and jammed, up the end of the valley and
turned the river into a lake."
" Well, does that matter ?" asked
O'Eorke.
" Matter I " impatiently, "when the
rains have come and the lake is steadily
Tising and may burst and overflow a
hundred and fifty miles of country."
O'Eorke whistled softly as he took in
the situation; then a slight shudder ran
through him as the Fakir's words came
back to his mind: '• Yea, I smell death—
death in the rushing waters." Good
heavens I it was coming horribly true.
"I must be off to-morrow," continued
Gawain quickly. " I have any amount to
do and heaps of things to get, for it is
a deserted place where there are no
supplies."
"So I shall have Steinthal all to myself," said O'Eorke slowly.
Gawain turned quickly.
" Steinthal is going with me," he said.
"Going with you," repeated O'Eorke,
and again in bis ears rang the Fakir's
words.
"Phil," he dried : impulsively, '-Phil,
don't take that fellow with you. I've
given in to you all this time and been
civil to him. You might do this one
thing for me."
" Hang it all, O'Eorke," cried Gawain
angrily, " I thought you had got over
your absurd suspicions by now."
O'Eorke did not reply and his friend
swung round and went off to make the
necessary preparations for his journey
into Garhwal.
The following morning Gawain started
and O'Eorke was left behind in the old
bungalow.
!Weeka passed away and he heard no
news of Gawain, although he read accounts
of the great flood that was expected in
Garhwal when the lake bnrst.
Then one day, moved by a strange unaccountable feeling, he applied for leave,
got men and ponies and set out for
Garhwal.
After some .days marching through
strange, w^ild and .solitary regions, O'Eorke
reached Chamoli where the landslip had
occurred, and presently he came in sight
of the lake itself.
It lay calm and
majestic among the mountains, its colour
a limpid blue.
Close to the hike, yet far above the
barrier of the dam, was a telegraph
station, and further on in the distance
could be seen the flat stone-,roofed huts of
a native village.
Between the village and the telegraph
station was an encampment, a large rest
house and several wooden huts.
As O'Eorke climbed the hill to the
Inspector's House. Gawain appeared, followed by Blake and Hutehings of the
Engineers.
" By the pipers that played before
Moses, its O'Eorke," shouted Blake.
" What on earth brings you up here."
cried Hutohings. while Gawain regarded
him with uplifted eyebrows.
"Curiosity," said O'Eorke lightly. '• I've
been hearing no end of the flood that is to
be, so I am mad keen to see it."
" I wonder where you are going to live,"
said Blake thoughtfully. " We're a tight
fit already."
"Oh, I don't care where you stick me.
When do you think the great water shoot
will come off 1 "
" In about two days' time, according to
the Colonel's calculations," replied Blake.
Then he and Hutchings went off leaving
Gawain and O'Borke alone. The latter
was regarding O'Eorke with a smile that
was very irritating.
"What on earth are you grinning at ?"
he demanded angrily.
" At you," replied Gawain quietly.
Then after- a pause—•' My dear follow,
do you think I don't see the motive of
your journey up here ? " .
" And if you do ?" said O'Eorke flushing.
" Well, it amuses me—that's all," said
Gawain lightly.
For a moment O'Eorke's eyes blazed
with anger ; he opened his lips as if to
say something, but he stopped, gave a
short laugh and turned away.
The next day O'Eorke spent in riding
about with young Blake and looking at
the preparations which had been made foil
the expected flood. It was impossible to
divert the water, so telegraph posts had
been erected all down the valley to give
warning when the lake should overflow..
Pillars were placed half a mile apart to
show the gale limits out of reach.of.the
flood and all the principal
IT SKKMBD MAMY HOUBS
bridges were dismantled.
TO
O'ROKKK
JIB
HK
On the second day the
SAT THEBK SUPPORTING
raiu came. There had been
HIS HELPs\,
torrents throughout the day
LESS OHUM,
and in the evening it subsided to a thick penetrating mist. At seven o'clock
the company, wrapped in
mackintoshes, flocked in to
dinner,
'• Hullo, where'a Gawain ?"
cried O'Eorke.
" He was with you thia
afternoon, Steinthal," said
Blake;
"Yes," said Steinthal,
" but he left me to deliver
a message,"
"Oh, he'll turn up soou,"
said Blake,
At that moment the telegraph boy's cry was heard
outside, and* a message
was handed to the Colonel.
He read it and then rose
hastily.
"The lake will escape
in an hour," he said. "I
am going up to the dam."
He left the tent followed
by Hatchings and Blake.
O'Rorke feeling strangely
anxious turned to quest i o n Steinthal about
Gawain, but the former had disappeared. down his throat Gawain opened his
He learned, however, from one of the eyes.
men that Gawain was last seen riding
"O'Korke," he muttered feebly. Then
down the valley, so seizing a hurri- getting up and seeming to gather strength.
cane lantern he dashed off in search of
"O'Rorke, you must get out of this.
his friend. The mist was thick and heavy The Colonel said the dam would break toand O'Eorke oould hardly see the great night and all this part will be flooded."
lights flaming at the posts all the way
"I know," said O'Eorke quietly, "Can
down the river bed. They twinkled like you stand up I will help—"
stars in the darkness and afar off came
"No you won't," interrupted Gawaiu
the distant roar from the imprisoned lake. sharply. " It's no use, Barney, I am done
O'Rorke rushed down through a deep for. I can't move a leg. Clear put Of
defile, below the limit of safety, past a this while there is time."
-;
deserted hut, drawn on by some irresistible
For answer O'Eorke, after fastening the
impulse.
lantern to his belt, stooped down, lifted
Then through the red mist created by Gawain in his arms and began to stagger
the lantern's light he saw a dark figure up the slope.
lying on the rocky ground before him half
" Put me down, you itliot," cried Gawain
buried beneath the body of a dead horse. hoarsely. Then hia voice softened. "BarWith a groan O'Eorke dropped on his ney, we can't both get up in time. Put
knees beside it. It was Gawain. With
me down like a good fellow."
infinite difficulty O'Rorka managed to
" Shut u p " muttered O'Rorke as he
drag his friend free from the horse, and staggered on, his breath coming and going
then as he forced a few drops of brandy in gasps, while beads of perspiration, stood'
on his forehead. Then suddenly in the
distance came a loud report, a great
rumble as of thunder reverberating among
the hills, and both men knew that the
dam had burst and the water of the lake
was free. A moment more and O'Borke
was nearly knocked off his feet by a ware
of cold water.
Then Gawain spoke.
" Barney—the hut—there is one chance
for you—for us," he added hastily, recognising the fact that O'Rorke would not
save himself alone. '• If we can get on to
the roof."
They were near the deserted hut which
O'Rorke had passed on his way down and
he at once struggled towards it. By a
great effort, and helped by O'Rorke,
Gawaiu managed to drag himself on to
the roof and O'Rorke climbed up after
him.
•' The hut's sure to go," gasped GUwaiu
breathlessly, "but we may be carried
along and get caught in some trees lower
down—it's our only chance."
The hut which had been rocking and
swinging in the midst of the whirling
water now gave a wild lunge and went
half under water. For a moment both
men thought their hour had come, but it
righted itself, spun slowly round and went
down the bosom of that dark rushing
current.
O'Rorke had flung his arm round
Gawain at the first shock, for the latter
was almost too exhausted with pain to
keep a firm hold, and so clinging together
the two men were whirled on to what
both believed to be their death. Again
and again they were nearly washed off by
the waves that broke over them. What a
night it was—black as ink, and around
them raged the savage waters, carrying in
their wake trees, logs and broken branches.
At first they did not speak, and O'Rorke
almost thought his companion was unconscious, when suddenly he broke the
silence.
"Barney," he said slowly, "I thought
over things a great deal when I was lying
helpless in that valley down there, and
I've come to the conclusion that I've been
rather a beast. For one thing I was
wrong about your motive in coming up
here, but I never guessed you thought
anything about the other part of the old
Fakir's prophecy—I mean the dark chap
who was to bring about my death. I
thought you had come up here to prove
yon were right, to prove that Steinthal
was an imposter. I—I—you see—oh, hang
it—I mean I didn't think yon cared so
much about—about. Oh, I was a beast,
Barney."
•' Rot," said O'Rorke, emphatically.
"But how did you get down in that
place ? "
" Lost my way in the mist. Pepperpot
shied, you see, and over I went," said
Gawaiu.
" You were alone ? "
"Yes. Steiuthal was with me in the
early part of the afternoon, but he went
back to camp."
O'Rorke broke into a laugh that startled
his companion.
" Oh, Phil," he cried, and his voice still
held the sound of laughter, " I have been
a fool. Do you know when I found you
there 1 thought Steintnal had played you
some cowardly trick and thrown you
over."
" Yes, but you are wrong about Steinthai," said Gawain quickly. " I know he
is a rather stiff sort of fellow and he
hasn't forgiven you for calling him an
impostor, but be is my cousin right
enough; he soon proved that to me."
O'Rorke gave a disgusted little grunt.
" I've been an utter fool, Phil," he said,
contritely, " but I bothered so much over
that wretched prophecy that when Steinthai turned up—well—I thought the
whole thing was coming true. Hang it 1
I was a fool; no wonder you laughed."
•• But if I had known everything I don't
think I should have laughed," said Gawain
quietly; " and if you hadn't been a fool as
you call yourself I should have been a
dead man by now."
" But we aren't out of the wood yet,"
said O'Rorke, as _the roof gave a lurch
and a great wave dashed over their heads.
Then suddenly it caught in the outspreading boughs of a strong tree and for a
moment stuck fast. Quick as lightning
O'Rorke swung himself up into its branches
and in a few seconds had hauled Gawain
up beside him. The latter had just strength
left to grasp the nearest bough, but once
up he became unconscious and would have
fallen but for O'Rorke's protecting arm.
The next moment the roof was freed from
the obstructing branches and went whirling down the current. It seemed many
hours to O'Rorke as he sat there supporting his helpless chum before a welcome
shout sounded in the distance and a rescue
party, headed by the Colonel, soon bronght
them back to safety.
The next day O'Rorke was none the
worse for his adventure, but a broken leg
kept Gawain a prisoner in his tent. In
the early morning O'Rorke went over to
see his friend. As he entered the tent he
found Steinthal already there sitting by
Gawain's side.
O'Rorke crossed over to him at once.
'• Steinthal," he said quickly, flushing as
he spoke, " I've thought confoundedly bad
things of you, but I'm sorry. Will you
shake hands ?"
Steinthal faced O'Rorke squarely and
his eyes brightened. .
'•I'm proud to shake hands with you,"
he said in his stiff, formal way, but there
was no mistaking the genuine ring in his
voice or the hearty grip of his hand.
•' Gawain has been telling me how you
saved his life."
" Oh, rubbish 1" cried O'Rorke in some
embarrassment. "But, honour bright,
I've been an utter fool."
•• It strikes me we've been a pair
of fools," chuckled Gawain from his
couch.
And O'Rorke laughed too, and it was
good to hear them.
"Well, I've done with Fakirs and
prophecies after this," said O'Rorke
suddenly, " only I shouldn't mind meeting
that particular Fakir, for I'd give him a
jolly good hiding."
"I wouldn't," chuckled Gawain, "I'd
give him twenty rupees."
And Steinthal looked at first one
and then the other laughing face in
puzzled surprise.
ANIMALS THAT ENJOY WINTER.
fHEN the grip of black frost
tightens on the land, and
turns the soppy garden-beds
and clayey plough-lands to
iron, tender hearts are sorry for the songbirds whose delicate beaks cannot pierce
the frozen soil. And many imagine that
all wild birds suffer alike.
But this is a mistake. For many of the
furred, and some even of the feathered,
tribes the frost and snov have no terrors.
Though the inland lakes and ponds ring
with steel upon ice, and the mud on the
river banks is solid, the flats of the great
salt estuaries on onr coast are always soft.
Each rising tide loosens the frost king's
fetters. Here feed in comfort all the
thousands of water birds which visit us
in winter-time—wild geese, curlew, duck,
widgeon, plover, besides gulls of many
different sorts. The lug-worms are as
plentiful here as ever, and as near the
surface.
Inland, the hawks grow fat in snowtime. The kestrel finds the snow a capital
background against which to view the
small fry he feeds on. whilst the sparrowhawk quarters over the leeward side of
the ricks and copses, watching for the
sparrows and chaffinches as they slip in
and out of shelter. All the weasel tribe
rejoice. The snow crust which bears the
sinuous stoat breaks under the plump
bunny, and makes the chase—so stern a
one in summer—short and, for the hunter,
sweet.
To none more than to the domestic
pussy does the cold bring joy. It is her
game season. Wild birds of many sorts,
in the summer shy inhabitants of the
woodlands, swarm into suburban gardens,
and prove easier prey than the elusive
sparrow.
Dogs revel in the elear, bright days of
frost. Even short-coated fox-terriers
never seem to feel the cold, but scamper
madly over the stiff grass. And St.
Bernards lose their summer sleepiness
and roll delightedly in the powdery snow.
The short, dark winter days of Canada's
great North-West hold no terrors for at
least one creature. This is the wolverine,
an ugly, bear-like beast, hated and feared
by the trappers with a terror that is half
superstition. Unseen himself, he follows
the hunters and watches them as they set
their traps, which they do in a long line
extending sometimes as much as thirty
miles through the dense evergreen forest.
These he visits before the grey winter
dawn has broken, and carefully extracts
therefrom the bait, himself far too cunning
to risk capture. Or, if the trap already
holds a captive, mink or ermine, this, too,
he tears away and devours at a safe
distance. Many of the stories told ol this
"incarnate appetite." the greediest, most
powerful, and su'picious creature of its
size known.
In the far north of the same vast solitudes the musk-ox lives and flourishes all
the year round. Fifty below zero is a
matter of indifference to this quaint
animal with his immensely thick furry
coat. His sharp hoofs are suited to
perfection for scraping away the deep
snow, and laying bare the thick lichen
and moss below it. Nothing but warmth
worries the little musk-ox. Mere freezingpoint is to him a Turkish bath.
Another victim to warmth is the llama,
yet it lives in latitudes which maps mark
as tropical. It seeks a congenial atmosphere high on the windy tablelands of the
Andes, and there proves itself invaluable
to the natives. Water and food seem
matters of quite secondary importance to
the llama, which carries its burden uncomplainingly where even mules pant
with distress in the thin atmosphere of
the giant mountains. The camel of the
mountain, as the llama is called, small as
he is, will carry a load of a hundred pounds.
Dozens of different creatures happily
doze the winter away—bats and bears,
dormice, and many others. One of the
least known, and yet most interesting of
these, is the hamster. This little brute is
the most savage and unsociable creature
known. Each in a separate hole far under
ground, the hamster alternately sleeps on
a couch of dry grass, or wakes to stuff
himself almost to bursting with the great
store of corn and beans he has laid up in
his winter larder. Winter is for him the
season to rest and grow fat.
A SAILOR KING AND SOME OF
HIS ADMIRALS.
BY HERBERT S. JEANS.
JAMBS II.
James II. was never, at any time,
the most revered of English kings,
he was at the least, a good sailor.
He knew the country's needs so far
as an efficient Navy was concerned, and he
did all in his power to put ships, officers
and men on a satisfactory basis. Like our
present Prince of Wales, he had been Duke
of York, and whilst holding that title he
had also filled the office of Lord High
Admiral. In that capacity he had fought
and defeated such giants as Opdam and
de Ruyter. At the battle of Loweatoft
(1665) he laid his ship, the Royal Charles,
80 gang, alongside that of Baron Opdam,
the Endracht, 84 guns, and was so exposed
to the enemy's fire that when three of his
staff, the Earl of;Falmouth, Lord Mnskerry,
and Richard Boyles, were killed by one
chain shot, his clothes were bespattered
with their blood—indeed, Pepys states
that the Duke was knocked down by
Boyles' head, which was struck off by the
shot. Shortly after this gruesome event,
the magazine of the JSndracht blew up. and
with her perished the Admiral and over
500 men, only five of all her crew being
saved. The fight was then maintained
with great determination by Captain Van
Trnmp, sou of the renowned Admiral of
that name, who gave the English seamen
such a busy time of it in the days of
Blake; but as night drew on he was constraint;.'! to fly for safety to the shoals of
confusion, thus making the first step
towards victory.
Montague, who, at this time, was forty
years of age, had Keen a considerable
amount of service by both sea and land.
At the age of IS he received a commission
from Parliament to raise a regiment in
Cambridgeshire, which he led with considerable distinction in the following year
ct the battle of Marston Moor. Before he
was SO years of age, he was joined with
Desborongh in filling the important office
of Lord High Admiral of England.
Never of the extreme party of the
Commonwealth, on the death of Oliver
Cromwell, his moderate principles imluced
him to wish the re-establishment of the
exiled King, and he soon became one of
the principal agents of the Restoration by
his influence in the fleet, for which important service Charles II. created him
Earl of Sandwich.
Sandwich was also associated with the Duke of York
in 1672 at the battle of
Solebay—or, as it is now
called. Southwold Bay, the
well-known seaside resort on
the Suffolk coast—and in
this encounter he met his
death under peculiarly sad
circumstances. The English
fleet was lying in the Bay,
keeping up a protracted jollification in celebration of
May the 29th, when, amidst
the festivity, the Earl of
Sandwich suddenly remarked
that there was some fear of
the fleet being surprised by
the Dutch, and advised that
they should weigh anchor
and put to sea. In reply to
this timely warning, the
Duke of York made some
remark which caused the Earl
intense aggravation, by implying that there was more of
caution than courage in his
apprehensions. About daybreak, however, as though to
verify the Earl's warning,
ADMIRAL MONTAG0B, FIRST EARL OF SANDWICH
came a sudden alarm that
the Dutch were in sight,
Montague, Earl of Sandwich, in command and the fleet put out to meet them
of the Blue Squadron. Early in the battle in a confusion which bordered upon
he carried his ships clean through the panic, for, if surprised in the Bay, the
centre of the Dutch fleet, cutting it into fireships of the enemy might have caused
two parts and throwing the whole into the destruction of every vessel there.
the Dutch coast, leaving the English indisputable victors. In this battle the English
lost only one ship and 250 men, whilst the
Dutch losses amounted to no less than 32
sail, 4,000 of all ranks killed, and 2,063
prisoners, amongst the last being sixteen
captains.
Glorious though this victory was, there
can be little doubt that the Duke of York
did not carry it to its ultimate conclusion.
If he had followed up the retreating
Dutchmen, he might have entirely destroyed the remainder of their fleet, thereby
making himself absolute master of the
seas. As it was, the remnunt of the defeated Dutch navy was allowed to find its
waj back to Holland unmolested, where it
refitted and came out in the two following
years to cause us much trouble in the
Downs, and even in nearer home waters.
An officer who contributed very largely
to this victory off Lowestoft was Admiral
Lending the van, with the ribbon of the
Gaiter above his buff coat, the Earl of
Sandwich was the first to take his ships
out of the Bay, which had so nearly
proved a death trap.
, The impetuous valour of the Earl Carried
him , into the midst of the
enemy, where,, though indifferently supported by many of the
ships under his command, he,
almost alone, dealt terrible
destruction to the enemy. He
killed Admiral Van Ghent, and
beat off his ship; he destroyed
another large ship which endeavoured to board him, sunk
three fire-ships as they were
approaching to grapple with
his rigging; and, though six
hundred of his men were killed,
and his ship dreadfully shattered
by the shot of the enemy, he
never slackened the fury of his
fire upon all who assailed him.
Al length a fourth fire-ship ran
aboard on the quarter of his
crippled ship, and set it in
flames. Sir Edward Haddock,
his captain, who was almost the
only officer that survived, entreated the Earl to abandon
the vessel, and consult his own
safety by taking to the boat; but
iu vain. ! He remained on board till almost
surrounded by flamies, then plunging into
the sea, he perished.
After the battle, the Earl's body was
seen floating on the water, and was picked
up by the crew of a bomb ketch. The
body, so terribly mangled and scorched as
to be only recognizable by the George, or"
Badge of the Order of the Garter, which
Sandwich had put on before going into
action, was taken out of the sea. embalmed,
and carried to London for burial with
great pomp in Henry VII.'s Chapel, in
Westminster Abbey.
The battle of Solebay, which was claimed
as a victory by both the English and the
Dutch, but which may more justly be
described as a drawn battle, was the last
naval engagement in which the Duke of
York took an active part. Not long after
this fight, he resigned his post of Lord
High Admiral for political reasons, but he
still retained his love for the sea. When,
on the death of his brother, Charles II.,
he succeeded to the throne, one of his
first acts was to appoint a commission,
under the guidance of fepys, the famous
Diarist and Naval Secretary, with a view
to remedying the many injustices which
existed in the Fleet, and to putting the
whole matter of Naval administration on
a more satisfactory footing than it-had
SIR GEORGE BOOKIC.
ever been before. This body sat to better
purpose than is the rule with Eoyal Com-i'
missions nowadays. - As a result of its'
recommendations, the King was soon furnished with a Navy as numerous, and in.
every way as complete and well founded'
as England had ever seen; the. officers'
whose pay had been drifting shamefully
into arrears, were now paid to a farthing,
dockyards and storehouses 'wefe put in
order, and a large reserve of stores laid in;
and all this was effected, through the
abolition of abuses and wasteful methods,
with a saving to the public of a consider,
able sum of money.
But by a grim irony of fate, all these
elaborate preparations of James II. were
subsequently to be used against'him, and
to bring about his downfall. Although,
as Duke of York, he had shewn himself to
be a skilful and intrepid commander, and,
as King, an able Naval administrator, yet
in the conduct of general affairs1 he was*'
soon found to be steering the ship of State
to destruction; and it was not long before
many of the officers who had served under
him in the Navy were compelled, in the
interests of their religion and their country,
to takearms against him. Foremost among
these were Booke aud Byug. The scope of
a. brief magazine article does not admit of
anything like an adequate account of the
BYKG LOED TOKKINGTON.
achievements of these two great Admirals,
so diverse in character yet so like in the
siugle-mindedness of their aims, but their
peculiar connection with James II. as
sailor king, at first serving under him and
afterwards against him. calls at least for
passing notice. Both Booke and Byng
entered the Navy in their boyhood as
Volunteers. At the age of 22 Byng was
within an ace of losing his life in a sharp
encounter with an Asiatic pirate in the
East Indies. He was ordered to board
the enemy, who was making a most desperate struggle, with himself severely
wounded and most of his men killed.
Soon after boarding, the pirate ship sank,
and Byng was cast into the sea, whence
he was taken sometime after by his own
men, more dead than alive.
At the Revolution, Byng was instrumental in bringing over to this country
James II.'s son-in-law, the Prince of
Orange, afterwards William III. of England ; whilst Booke rendered that monarch most valuable service by convoying
the Army of his General, the Duke oi
Schomberg. to Ireland, whither James had
fled and gathered together a force with
which he made a vain effort to retain his
crown.
Booke and Byng were next associated,
at the Battle of Beachy Head
an encounter in which the
English and Dutch, whom the
whirligig of
international
politics had now converted
from our foes to oar allies,
were pitted
against
the
French, under Tourville. In
this encounter the Allied
Navies, who were out-numbered and out- maneuvered,
sustained a severe defeat;
and it is more pleasing to
turn to the action off Gape
Barfleur, which, culminating
in the Battle of La Hogue,
once again restored the glory
of the British Navy, and dealt
a death blow to the hopes of
fugitive James, and frustrated Louis XIV.'s designs
upon England.
James, it will be remembered, had now been driven
out of Ireland by William
III.'s forces, and had found
a refuge in France, where
he assisted Louis in the
work of preparing an army for the invasion of England. '
The English fell in with the French
fleet, equipped and despatched with this
object in view, off Cape Barfleur, aud after
a stubborn fight, compelled them to fly in
disorder. The Frenchmen fled in two
directions, one section steering through
the race of Alderney and running ashore
at Cherbourg, where their vessels were
burnt by their pursuers; the other ran
into the Bay of La Hogue, where the
water was too shallow for the English
ships to follow. Rooke thereupon manned
the boats, and, running in under a terrific
fire from two platforms of artillery formed
for the protection of the Bay, sunk and
burnt 13 line-of-battle ships and nearly
the whole of the transport vessels intended for the conveyance of the grand
army for the invasion of England. As the
English seamen swarmed up the vessels
on one side, the Frenchmen fled in panic
by the other ; and James, watching them
from the shore, where the French army
was assembled for embarkation, could not
disguise his admiration of the magnificent
courage and daring of the English sailors.
But James never came either into contact or conflict with English seamen again ;
and it is sad to reflect that a King who. at
one time, did so much for the welfare of
the British Navy, should in all other respects have proved himself so little deserving of the country's gratitude.
Whilst the Battle of La Hogue brought
about James II.'s complete downfall, it
was but little more than the beginning of
the glorious careers of Rooke and Byng,
who, in a later reign, were to be associated
in such victories as Vigo and Malaga, and
above all, in the taking of Gibraltar—a
heritage which remains to us to the
present day.
Sir George Rooke, who had received the
honour of Knighthood in consideration of
his services at La Hogue, passed away
within a very short time of his retirement
from the sea at the comparatively early
age of 67 ; whilst Byng, who was raised
to the peerage with the title of Viscount
Torrington, had all but completed his
three score years and ten when he died in
harness as First Lord Commissioner of
the Admiralty.
YE MARINERS OF ENGLAND.
WHJB mariners of England,
33 That guard our native seas ;
Whose flag has braved a thousand years
The battle and the breeze I
Tour glorious standard launch again
To match another foe ;
And sweep through the deep.
While the stormy winds do blow ;
While the battle rages loud and long,
And the stormy winds do blow !
Britannia needs no bulwarks,
No towers along the steep;
Her march is o'er the mountain wave,
Her home is on the deep.
With thunders from the native oak
She quells the floods below,
As they roar on the shore,
When the stormy winds do blow ;
When the battle rages loud and long,
And the stormy winds do blow I
The spirits of your fathers
Shall start from every wave;
For the deck it was their field of fame
And Ocean was their grave :
Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell,
Your manly hearts shall glow.
As ye sweep through the deep,
While the stormy winds do blow ;
While the battle rages loud and long,
And the stormy winds do blow!
The meteor flag of England
Shall yet terrific burn,
Till danger's troubled night depart,
And the star of peace return ;
Then, then, ye ocean warriors,
Our song and feast shall flow
To the fame of your name.
When the storm has ceased to blow ;
When the fiery fight is heard no more,
And the storm has ceased to blow.
M.M.B TRAFALGAR.
COURTHOPES' COUSIN
The Story of an Abduction and a Rescue
BY
WALTER
RICHARDS,
A^l,thor of "Her Majesty's Army,"
Ktc., etc-
" Warrior* of Britain,"
CHAPTER I.
ERE'S the pool, Stacey, and
here's the stage I got Phelps
to rig up for me. Capital,
isn't i t ? "
'• Yes, it looks safe enough. But it
goes against my conscience, youngster,
to let yon go on fishing with a worm
instead of learning to throw a fly."
•' Well, after to-day you shall teach me.
But the gentleman I told you I met here
once or twice said there was plenty of
time for that."
"More shame for him," said Stacey,
who was an ardent sportsman of the
orthodox type. •• What sort of a chap
was he, Tim ? "
"Well," answered young Courthope, reflectively, " he was a pleas:int-spoken fellow, seemed about thirty. He said he
was a painter; gave me some prime fruit,
and asked a lot about me and ' the
reverend' and all that."
" And you told him ? "
"Of course; he was awfully kind and
nice. Perhaps he'll be here ; he asked me
if I was sure to come."
"All right; sing out to me if he does.
I shall read till the sun's gone down a bit."
And with these words Stacey, a wellknit, good-looking fellow about eighteen,
settled himself comfortably on a luxurious
seat of bracken, while "Tiny Tim," as
young Conrthope was generally called,
got together what Staoey stigmatized as
his " poaching apparatus," and clambered
down to the improvised stage he had got
the Tillage carpenter to make overhanging
a deep, fishy-looking pool.
The friends were two of some eight or
ten boys of all ages who were being
"coached " or tutored by Dr. Sterne, who
finding himself with plenty of spare time
in his quiet Somerset rectory put his rare
scholarship to profitable use in this way,
Little Courthope was a general favourite,
partly because he was the youngest, and
partly because he was an orphan—though
sometimes the fellows said that even this
combination scarcely warranted the excessive care the Doctor took of him.
" Wonder who this chap is the Tiny One
has picked up ? " soliloquised Stacey
lazily; "amiable strangers of artistic
tastes are rather a rarity in Droverton.
I should like to—Hulloa I who's that I
wonder I " springing up and looking Cowards a cluster of dark tors at a little
distance. "Pshaw! there's no one after
all, though I certainly thought
"
At that moment there came a sudden
sound of breaking wood—an agonized cry,
"Stacey I Helpjl" then a heavy splash
cutting short a despairing shriek.
Like lightening Stacey flew to the brink
of the sloping gorge at the foot of which
was the river. The stage mas gone! In
its place were splintered beams and a
hanging plank, and in the black swirling
water beneath a few pieces of jagged wood
eddied and jostled in the current.
" Merciful Heaven I Tim I Tim I "
Even as he called. Stacey had thrown
off his shoes and coat and was swinging
himself down to the overhanging ledge
on which the treacherous platform had
been reared. Reaching it, he paused a
moment to scan with agonized anxiety
the gloomy water, and to his delight
caught sight of an arm and pale little
face come to the surface.
" Cheer up, Tiny; I'm coming," he called
on the chance that the lad was conscious,
and then, taking his chance of striking
the wreckage, he took a header into the
pool.
The next minute he was scrambling- up
the bank with Tim, gasping, but more
frightened than seriously hurt, on his
arm.
" However did you marage that performance, youngster ? " asked Stacey,
when, thanks to the warm sun and vigorous chafing and rubbing. Courthope was
himself again.
" Can't make out. The thing just meitt:
Phelps must have been awfully careless."
" I'll go ;ind have a look and give the
old iiiiot a bit of my mind when I get
back. You stay here and bask : no more
fishing for you to-day, Tim; you've
frightened all the fish into the next
parish."
Stacey climbed back to the rook and
examined it closely. As he did so his
face grew very grave with an expression
in which was some terror and more anger.
"Foul playl Good Heavens! — foul
play I " he exclaimed under his breath.
The supports of the stage had been deliberately sawn thrmigh!
*
*
*
CHAPTER II,
Owing to the Doctor's absence it was
not till the following afternoon that
Stacey was able to tell him of his discovery. As he expected, old Phelps had
completely exonerated himself in the
matter.
"This is terrible," said Dr. Sterne, as
Stacey finished his narration, "terrible.
I have sometimes feared, and yet—it is
too awful to credit. Still——" Then
seeing the surprise on the young man's
face he added :
"I think I can trust your prudence,
Stacey, and if you know the facts you will
be better able to assist me. The story
sounds like the plot of some trashy novel
—would to Heaven it were I You and the
other pupils have wondered sometimes, I
know, at my anxiety about little Courthope. You will wonder no more when I
tell you he is the heir to an extremely
large property, and that his cousin, who
will inherit it if he dies before he is of
age, is one of those unprincipled men,
desperate, remorseless, who will stick at
nothing to achieve their purpose. These
are some of the facts I have ascertained,"
and taking some papers from his secretaire he shewed Stacey letters he had
received from the lawyers and others connected with the property.
" I'm glad to say Courthope's uncle, Sir
George Withers, will be in England in a
fortnight or so, and my responsibility will
be reduced. Meanwhile we must keep a
careful eye on him. Where is he now,
do you know ? "
Stacey smiled and pointed out of the
window.
'• He's safe enough at present, sir—
standing with the other fellows admiring
a soit of glorified organ grinder who made
his appearance this morning. Clockwork
figures and that sort of thing."
" That's all right. You'll bear in mind
what I've told you, Stacey. Perhaps,
after all, I am disquieting myself unnecessarily, and the accident was the result of
some mischievous trick."
Things went on quite placidly for the
next few days. Without appearing to do
so purposely. Stacey managed to keep
Courthope pretty well in his ken, the
more easily as the attractions of the
" glorified barrel organ " proved an effectual counter-attraction to excursions afield.
The proprietors, two swarthy, grinning,
white-teethed Italians, evidently found
the by-road passing the Doctor's grounds
a profitable "turn," for they came regularly, and expatiated glibly in their broken
English on the remarkable beauties of
their instrument, an elaborate concern,
and alike in size, ornament and capabilities
quite out of the common. Courthope was
especially fascinated, and both from his
"Timship"—an expression coined to describe his recognised position of pet and
plaything and claims thereto—and from
the fact that he was uncommonly well
supplied with pocket money and singularly
open-handed with the same, was evidently
regarded by the Italians as patron in chief
and treated accordingly.
Everything seemed so quiet that the
Doctor and Stacey began to think that
the former's hopeful surmise was correct,
and that they were disquieting themselves
unnecessarily. But they were destined to
be speedily undeceived.
One evening there was the usual gathering of the boys round the organ, which, in
some unexplained manner, was, its owners
asserted, to develop fresh marvels in the
automatic line, and Stacey strolled towards
the group, foremost amongst which was,
as usual, his Timship. As it was getting
dusk the clockwork figures were lighted
up, and certainly made an attractive display. Suddenly from the little copse
which bordered the play meadow came
the report of a pistol shot followed by
another, and a loud cry. Here was an
attraction which to the elder boys quite
eclipsed the organ and all its works I
Murder, perhaps — robbery — possibly by
some delightful chance a modern highwayman. Anyhow it was in their copse, and
with a general " Come on, you fellows,"
they dashed off headed by Stacey. Alas
for vain illusions I Instead of ferocious
villain or romantic desperado they found a
wretched specimen of humanity half drunk
and more than half idiotic who mumbled
some incoherent rubbish about lions and
tigers, tried to shake hands with them all
round, presented his rusty old pistol with
maudlin earnestness to Stacey, whom he
begged to keep it •• in remembrance of a
poor old soldier," and finally sat—or rather
tumbled down—and went to sleep.
With their hopes of something exciting
cruelly blighted, the boys returned to the
tamer joys of the glorified organ.
'• Hullohl Where's Tim?" cried someone.
Tim had disappeared.
" Run and see if he's in the house, Rolt."
said Stacey, with an uncomfortable, sick
sort of fear beginning to make itself felt
in his breast.
" Courthope I " "Tim ! " " Tiny ! " were
shouted vigorously and impartially, but
with no result, and presently Rolt came
panting back to say he had not been up to
the house.
" Bes it the leetle signior, yees 1 " asked
one of the Italians, who had been interested observers of the excitement.
" Yes," answered Stacey quickly. " Do
you know where he went ? "
The man nodded and shewed his teeth
as usual.
'• Yees; little siguior 'e speak to one
grand gentleman just when gun shot."
'• Well 1" gasped Stacey.
"Then grand gentleman take leetle
signior into ees—ees what you call ? eh^
cospetto! into ees coach and drive off
presti."
" Which way ? " asked Stacey, huskily.
"By there," answered the man, pointing
along the road past the rectory. " Leetle
siguior le seemed frightened, but gentleman 'e speak much amiably."
Stacey groaned, as he dismissed the men
with a tip, and hurried to see the Doctor.
What they had feared and striven to guard
against had happened. Without doubt
Courthope had been abducted by his
CHAPTER III.
There is no need to dwell upon the consternation and activity that ensued. The
Doctor rode off to the nearest Constabulary
office; Stacey. on a hastily-borrowed horse.
galloped along the road to
, the
direction indicated as that taken by the
trap; the tutor and some of the elder
boys searched the neighbourhood and
questioned the villagers. But all with no
result. The drunken trespasser had disappeared ; as to the trap it melted into
thin air for all that Stacey could hear
about it. The answers to his enquiries
were invariably the same—no vehicle of
any sort had been noticed between the
rectory and
.
As Staoey rode back, beside himself with
Brief and vexation, he found himself wishing a dozen times that he were possessed
of the marvellous detective genius of
Sherlock Holmes, of Mr. Bryce, or of
Poe's M. Dupui. Suddenly, as his thoughts
dwelt upon the triumphs of the lastnamed, an idea flashed through his mind
and made the blood flush into his cheeks
and his heart commence beating furiously.
" By Jove, I'll try it! " he exclaimed.
Stacey was intended for the Army, and
his father, an old Indian officer, who made
pistol shooting into a hobby, had stipulated
with the Doctor that the boy should be
allowed to keep up his practice, his proficiency in which had already gained him a
goodly array of '• pots" from various
shooting clubs. The Doctor had made no
objection, merely stipulating that when
not in use the revolver should be domiciled in his own study.
Before starting out this afternoon
Stacey, with a hazy, half shamefaced idea
that it was a stupid, theatrical thing to
do, had slipped the weapon into his pocket.
He now took it out and saw that it was
charged, and then giving his horse the
rein he dashed back at full speed, past
the rectory, and in the direction opposite
to that of
.
It was scarcely dark, but he rode
swiftly on, only stopping from time to
time to put a question to people he met.
Presently he arrived at a village, once the
seat of a small mining industry, and which
had a somewhat questionable reputation
for the character of its denizens.
Outside one of the cottages a man was
lounging in his shirt sleeves.
'• Are there a couple of Italians with a
big organ staying here ? " asked Stacey.
" Rekkon there be, young zur—voreign
toads, I calls them."
" Where are they 1"
'• Varmer Heard, he've let them a shed,
out of the way like. You can zee it
yonder," pointing to an isolated barn on
the outskirts of the village. " They coom
by a while ago zeeming mighty merry.
Voreign toads, I zays."
" You're about right in this case I
fancy," said Stacey, with a short laugh.
"Thanks, my friend," and the next minute
be was urging his horse towards the shed,
the dim outline of which was just visible
in the dusk.
Twenty yards or so before he reached it
he fastened his horse to a gate, and then
approached cautiously. There was a light
within, and he could hear sounds of coarse
laughter, exclamations which sounded like
oaths—and one that brought a fierce
execration to his own lips.
Putting his shoulder to the door and
exerting his full strength, he burst it
open and sprang in.
There, in a corner, his hands and feet
tied, across his pale little cheek the weal
of a cruel blow, his blue eyes dazed and
wide with fright, lay Courthope, and near
him stood the " glorified organ," its back.
removed showing the hollow space into which
the hastily chloroformed boy had teen th'-mst.
" StaoeyI"
" Cospetto 1"
" You infernal scoundrels 1 "
The three exclamations came simultaneously. Then, as Stacey sprang to the
boy's side, one of the men drew a murderous-looking knife and the other caught
up a rusty spade, and with stealthy
movements they began to advance towards
him—only to spring back with almost
ludicrous celerity at the sight of the
gleaming pistol barrel which confronted
them. But they were not to be so easily
beaten. The man with the spade dropped
his clumsy weapon and, seizing a wooden
chair, poised it to throw at Stacey, while
his comrade should rush in and settle
matters with the knife. It was a " tight
corner," and Stacey was just deciding
that he had better anticipate the attack
by a bullet, when the villains were seized
from behind, and the Doctor,the Constable,
and Stacey's shirt-sleeved friend appeared
on the scene.
# # # * *
" The inspector tells me those scoundrels
have confessed," said Dr. Sterne when
they were once more back at the rectory,
and Tiny Tim, after having received an
ovation which nearly made him cry, had
been put to bed with a sleeping draught.
" It was an infamous, dastardly plot on
the part of Courthope's cousin, who bribed
these men and provided them with the
organ, which he had had specially constructed. Fortunately he's not likely to
escape."
" It was jolly lucky for me you turned
up when you did, Sir. How did you know
where I'd gone ? "
'• Well, when I saw you riding by like
the spectral horseman himself, I thought
you'd hit upon something and followed
you with Giles. Our friend in the shirt
sleeves put us on your track and volunteered his assistance. You've done splendidly, Stacey, splendidly. But how on
earth did you hit upon the idea of following the Italians 1"
Stacey laughed.
" It was all due to Edgar Allen Poe, Sir.
You remember his ' purloined letter ?' In
order to effect his coup Dupui employs a
drunken fellow to attract general attention by firing off a gun. I suddenly
remembered that, and then the whole
thing seemed plain. It was a lucky shot."
It was, and Sir George Withers and
Tiny Tim himself took very good care
that Stacey should have ample cause to
think so. As the former often said :
"Thanks to that 'lucky shot' of yours,
my boy, thank Heaven we've seen the last
of Courthope's cousin."
A PIECE OF LINEN.
BY HENRY EDWARDS.
A SIMPLB HAND LOOM.
A. Beam.
B. Boiler for finished material.
CC. Healds or Heddles.
D. The Warp.
E. The Batten.
P. Shuttle Slide.
E name of the material we call
linen is derived from the word
" linum " which is the Latin
equivalent of our " flax," the
the plant from which linen is made. The
process of manufacture of a piece of linen
is one of the moat interesting of industrial processes, and is well worthy of
attention, especially as, when it is
thoroughly understood, the other textile
industries are comparatively easy to follow, namely, the making of calico, cloth,
carpets, etc.
The history of linen commences when
the seed of the flax is sown, in March.
By July the flax field presents a very
pretty sight, being a sheet of pale blue
flowers on the top of slender stalks two
and a half to three feet high. When the
blossom is over, a large globular seedvessel, from which linseed oil is made,
G. The Shed.
HH. Treadles.
I.
Weaver's Seat.
forms in its place, and the flax is then
ready to cut. The stem consists of a tube
of fibrous rind, and it is from these fibres
that linen is made.
Flax is a hardy annual, and is easily
grown, and between the linen and oil
produced from it, ought to be more
extensively cultivated in this country
than it is.
The next step is to separate the fibres
of the flax from the woody part of the
stem, and this is difficult to do, as they
are firmly connected by a kind of resin.
It is necessary in some way to melt out
this rosin, without injuring the fibres.
The plan adopted used to be to soak the>
stems in water for nearly a week, but now
there is a quicker way of doing it, by
boiling in caustic soda, or lime, which
only requires six or seven hours. When
this is done the flax is thoroughly dried,
and then beaten to break up the woody
part, and then it is ready for the " heckling " mill. This is a machine which has
a large cylinder armed with sharp teeth,
which tear the fibres apart, and pull out
all the waste matter, leaving only a fine
soft down, which is made up of long
fibres. These are then drawn out into a
flat band, the lengths of fibre being overlapped so as to form a continuous strip,
which is then doubled and drawn again.
When this process is finished the drawing,
as it is called, is taken to another machine
which draws it into a round soft cord,
called a roving, which in its turn is taken
to the spinning machine, in which it is
drawn out still finer, and at the same time
twisted, which makes it firm and strong,
instead of soft and loose. When the
threads leave the spinning machine they
are in long lengths each wound on a
separate bobbin, and they are now ready
for the weaver.
In every piece of linen there are two
sets of threads, those which run in the
length are called the warp, and those that
cross them -are the weft. Now the first
thing the weaver has to do is to wind a
large number of threads, as many as he
requires to make the warp of his work,
evenly on to a beam, or long roller. This
is generally done by a machine, which
winds the threads from the bobbins onto
the beam much more evenly than would
be possible by hand. In the sketch at
the commencement of this article A is the
beam, or roller, D is the warp, and B is
the roller on to which the cloth is rolled
when woven.
Now on its way from roller A to roller
B the warp passed through two " healds,"
or "heddles," C.C, which are simply two
wooden frames with a number of upright
strings fastened to them, in the middle of
every one of which there is a loop or eye.
There are as many strings on the two
healds as there are threads in the warp,
and every alternate thread is passed
through the eye of a string on one
heald and the next one through the
eye of a string on the other heald.
These healds are connected by cords
at each end which pass over pulleys at
the top of the frame of the loom, and
are also connected by cords to two treadles
H.H. Now when one treadle is pressed
down by the weaver's foot, one heald will
be depressed, and the other one proportionately raised, and with them the alter-
nate threads of the warp will be raised and
lowered, respectively.
The weaver seated on the stool marked
I, puts his foot on one of the treadles H.H,
and thus separates the alternate threads
of the warp, forming an opening, G, called
" the shed," through which he will next
proceed to throw the shuttle, a boat-shaped
instrument, like that used in lock-stitch
sewing machines, from a bobbin inside
which a thread is flowing. Having caught
the shuttle on the other side of the "shed,"
he then presses on the other treadle, which
causes the threads to reverse their positions,
and in crossing, to close in the shuttlethread, called the " weft." By repeating
this operation, and throwing the shuttle
through alternately from the left and
right, the cloth is gradually made, but it
would be very loose and uneven without
the aid of an appliance called the batten,
or beater, B, a swinging frame with a
comb attached, the teeth of which pass
between the threads of the warp, and
drive each weft thread up close to the
last when swung. The closeness of the
material is to some extent dependent on
the amount of swing given to the batten.
Just below the comb on the batten is a
ledge, or shelf, F, on to which the lower
threads of the warp descend, and along
this shelf the shuttle slides, being gener
ally started from either end out of a kind
of box which is jerked by a strap attached
to a handle, held in the weaver's right
hand, which has the appearance of a whip
with two lashes.
These are the essential parts of the
simplest form of hand loom, from which
hare been developed all the wonderful
machines now employed in the weaving
industry.
The first improvement to be made was
to increase the number of healds, by means
of which it was made possible to weave
simple patterns, such as diagonals and
checks. Then an automatic apparatus for
throwing the shuttle was devised, after
which it was a comparatively simple
matter to apply steam, or any other power,
to do all the work, namely, to press the
treadles, throw the shuttle, and swing the
batten. This machine was called the
" Power Loom," and its effect on the
development of the industry was most
marked, as it could turn out such a greatly
increased amount of work, and, being
absolutely automatic, would weave a
whole piece without attention, unless a
thread happened to break. The only
manual work required on the Power Loom
is in the "mounting," or setting the
threads and getting it fairly started.
But even this machine could not weave
anything in the shape of a pattern, except
such as consisted of plain straight
lines.
To a Frenchman of the name of
Jacquard, born in Lyons in 1760, must be
attributed the invention of the wonderful
apparatus which makes it possible to
weave any pattern, however complex, and
in any number of colours. His apparatus
is in use to this day, with very little
alteration, and weaves all the beautiful
damask table cloths, carpets, and all
figured materials in which the pattern is
woven. His invention was so little appreciated by his fellow citizens that they
broke up his machine and persecuted him,
but their descendants, having found out
the value of the apparatus, and being
ashamed of the treatment the inventor
had received at the hands of their ancestors,
decreed a public act of reparation, which
took the form of a picture woven in silk
by the Jacqnard apparatus, and representing the inventor in his workshop, surrounded by his tools. This picture contained no less than 1,000 threads to each
square inch.
Jacqnard realised that no real pattern
could be woven as long as a number of
threads in the warp were controlled by
one heald, so he set about to devise a way
by which each thread could be controlled
independently of any other. For this
purpose he separated all the upright
strings forming the healds, and attached
a wire to the top of each, ending in a
hook. These wires he collected into a
square box at the top of the loom, and
places them in rows. Each wire passed
through a loop in a cross wire, one end of
which was connected to a small spring,
and the other projecting through the side
of the box. In front of each row of hooks
was a metal bar, which was connected to
the treadle, so that it rose six or eight
inches when the treadle was pressed, and
just missed the hooks. Now by pressing
the projecting point of one of the cross
wires, one of the hooks could be pushed
forward so as to engage with the metal
bar when it rose, and thus lift one thread
of the warp above the shuttle. A pattern
could therefore be formed by pressing in
certain of the wires, and not others.
This was accomplished by means of a
square block of wood, with a hole drilled
in each of its four sides to ad mi1) the point
of each of the projecting wires. This
block being pressed against the projecting
points, no effect was produced, but if a
piece of card was placed between the block
and the points, all the wires would be
pressed in unless holes were made to allow
certain of the wires to pass through the
card into the holes in the block. Thus by
perforating a series of cards, and stringing them together, so that they would
follow one another through the machine,
any desired pattern was produced. Patterns have been woven requiring as many
as 24,000 cards each large enough to admit
of 1,000 perforations.
All this sounds rather complicated, and
so it is, but if any reader is sufficiently
interested in the subject from this brief
sketch, he is advised to take the first
opportunity of seeing the exhibits in the
Machinery Department of the South Kensington Museum, which include a complete
model Jacquard Loom, and a full size
Jacquard apparatus, as well as hand and
power looms. There is also a very interesting Jacqnard Loom to be seen at work
in the Crystal Palace, weaving pictures in
several colours. The colours are controlled
by a special row of perforations on the
cards.
ANECDOTES.
No theory, but
A Welsh mansion having been burgled
one night, the village constable, a raw
young recruit from the hills, was sent for.
The squire personally conducted him over
the scene of the midnight marauder's
operations.
"Well, Evans," said he, " have you, any
theory that will enable you to effect an
arrest ? "
" No, surr," replied Evans, " I 'aven't
got no theory so farr, 'cos the thiefs wass
too cute to leave wan behind; but I 'aye
got a splendid idea who did done it."
*
*
*
Just where the difference was.
" Did you see this tree that has been
mentioned by the roadside ? " an advocate
inquired.
"Yes, sir, I saw it very plainly."
" It was conspicuous then 1 "
The witness seemed puzzled by the new
word. He repeated his former assertion.
" What is the difference," sneered the
lawyer, ''between plain and conspicuous?"
The witness looked as calm as ever, then
replied :
" I can see you plainly, sir, amongst the
other lawyers, though you are not a bit
conspicuous I"
# * *
Encouraging.
Some years ago a party of Cambridge
professors undertook to penetrate into the
depths of a Cornish mine. The lowering
apparatus was merely the primitive rope
and bucket. When they had finished their
explorations they were hauled up in this
bucket two at a time.
As the last was slowly ascending, with
a miner as fellow-passenger, he perceived,
as he thought, certain unmistakable
symptoms of frailty in the rope.
" How often do you change your ropes,
my good man ? " he inquired, when about
half-way from the bottom of the awful
abyss.
" We change them every three months,
sir," replied the man in the bucket; " and
we shall change this one morrow, if we
get up safe' "
As before.
In a Sheffield workshop, when the men
absented themselves they were expected
to produce a doctor's certificate.
An Irishman, absent, however, on a
second occasion, and told to bring his
certificate, gave in the one used before.
The manager, looking at it, said :
" Why, Maguire, this is an old certificate 1 "
"Sure I know that, your honour," said
Maguire, calmly. " And isn't it the same
ould complaint?"
* # #
One for nothing.
An Irishman once went into a grocer's
shop and asked the grocer the price of eggs.
" Seven for sixpence." saiJ the grocer.
" Best new-laid, too."
"Oh," said Pat, "seven for sixpence.
That's six for fivepence, and five for
fourpence. and four for threepence, and
three for twopence, and two for a penny
and one for nothing, so I'll take the one
for nothing, please."
*
*
*
Once bit, twice shy.
Edward wus taken by his mamma to
the photographer's the other day. She
was anxious to secure a good likeness at
this particular sitting, because she wished
to distribute the pictures among some
friends who were then her guests.
The child's idea of the affair, however,
did not apparently harmonise with that
of his mother, for when the man with the
camera began to adjust the lens and direct
it towards little Edward, that young person
set up what was unquestionably a howl.
In vain did the mother exhaust argument
and entreaty. Edward did not want his
picture taken.
" Why, my child," she said soothingly,
"the gentleman won't hurt you. Just
smile and keep still a moment, and it will
be all over before yon know it."
"Yes, I know, mamma," whimpered the
youth, with the tears running down his
cheeks, "but that's what you told me at
the dentist's,"