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(ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.) SONS OF FIRE. 1 By MISS 6RADD0N, Jatai TK. "kady Audley's Secret," "The for T^/f»e\. m ^*1' Come," Lost ?ft> t! n 0 Doctor's Wife," Whose the Hand ?" Thou Art the Man." &c. A U/U i CHAPTER XX. wnite Star Made of Memery Long Ago. ^arfcha'dwou^ never do.' Those words of ♦ho oarari f° °*rnesfcly spoken by the kind soul *8res fa* k me a'llnost as tenderly as a mother tapid r er own, haunted me all through the >J Trin,tv l.Viarn.blidg0' waIKed. the quadrangles &oad mvT Wl me' tramPec^ the Trumpington •hich "boulders, like that black care "over dn' behind the traveller. It would Martha o. a. No neecl to ask my Sood jion. T t meanmg of that emphatic asser- ^*ken «« knew what shape her thoughts had 4QUSLI-A «• watched ir.e sitting by the little ihin tint'r110—t^le °^< old piano, with such a voice n»w» sound, listening that seraphic 3xaui»i» \°°king at that delicate profile and am? Cu °.ur'np °* faintly flushed check, lifted ^Kised f S c*owy hair. My old nurse had aur- bot uv secret almost before I knew it myself floor was baek in my shabby ground •Marti.. i afc Trinity, I knew as well as love wii-h ew ^afc efc myself fa'l deep in tny f l~ af Rifl whom I could never marry with Way in i r s aPprobation. I might take my own to woniH u aUd marry the girl I loved but to do &lak« forfeit) my mother's affection, to •« t an outcast from her house. *»»d Mo i.uW ^at kind °f a 'a^y your mother is,' ««yr. -f f' ltl her valedictory address. Mother*8 u 01 son' I'^ely t0 h0 ignorant of the ,k*en*thJi 1racte.r» ,.or unable to gauge the io "or "er prejudices—prejudices that seemed toenm« Part of her nature as to form a strong ire n. against Locke's assertion, that there iPhilo«n 1?nate. ideas ? Indeed, in reading that io iftn -8 famous chapter, it always seemed A. g n » v1/ average infant had to begin the h*ve h«> L at ^rsb l0tter» my mother must fowailv en. orn w'tJh her brain richly stocked with Fears TK an-^ soc,al distinctions. In all the a&benrl f 6 with her I had never seen her *ith a k j aervanb, or converse on equal terms *>f tha 63man- had a full appreciation fcood h" ue °f wealth when it was allied with the i. '5 » but tlie millionaire manufacturer or Of w. ? y 8peculator belonged to that outer circle *oiii#iu knew nothing, and of which she .jucl believe no good. ^ed l"38 ^er on'^ son anc* s^e was a widow. I t (jjj ler more than most sons owo their mothers. °|0'i as nu,nber four or five in a family fmlii"1/ share in the rough and tumble Ita. ? '"e* My mother had been all in all to fcet {-• heen all in all to her. I had been libl rlend a.nd companion from the time 1 was jgQj understand the £ ngiish language, the a" ',er '^oasi 'ler likes and dislikes— *&con. stago when the childish mind •f tli« us takes shaj>e and bent from the mind «eventuParent the child loves best. From my •*cr»fl ?ear .was fatherless, and all that is fee ■nt.ul. sweethome life began and ended for •• ji word mother- italloci m°ther was what Gerald Standish It Was a masterful woman.' a woman to whom OolliQ natural to direct and initiate the whole opposite life. My father was her T>battc • ,Q tomperameni—irresolute, lym- her the* Rtld 1 think he must have handed hooeviy, re'ns °f home government before their ^oueh f°n was over- remember just well kis lif» L r?member that he left the direction of Wholly to her that he deferred to her <aij ?D?». a°d studied liar feelings in every de- *doreH existence; and that he obviously Jot ten if: don't think he cared very much I 'ion nt 8 ouly child. 1 can recall no indica- iP'^cid *??rmth of feeling on his part, only a COnca IUddierence. as of one whose affection was Gearll ntrated Upon a single object, and whose tpobn e no room f°1' any other image. He cxy>no:. °'me a3 the boy," and looked at rne Vera X w'th an air of mild wonder, as if I by gov—110 0(*y else's son, whose growth took him i8' never remember his expressing any toe lnr>L? jUb me, except that I had grown since ««rj?ed at me last. tardlJ8 about me being thus tepid, it was Itoonl ?UrPr'SII1K that be should make what many J ve called an unjust will. I have never ^ttch ? lts j^^e, for I loved my mother too of the advantages of power and which that will gave her. iDy was an heiress, and her money had cleared branr> r's estate from considerable encum- ProviJv' an^ 110 doubt he remembered this when five for ber future. He was her senior by hood f tvvsnty years, and foresaw a long widow- «Vi,?0r her. free » entail ended in his own person, so he was 'eft ^'sPose of his property as he liked. H6 mother tenant for life; and he left me 9u?dred a year, chargeable to his estate, a»« ri?c°me was only to begin when I came of •ftna j one-and-twentieth birthday I was indent upon my mother for everything. Iji. told myself that I had to cut my path in f' „7 *nd that I must be the architect of my own tot^y mother's income under her marriage was considerable, and this, in addi- ^jon- a rent roll of between two and three ,(a«aod a year, made her a rich woman, iltl ÁSsllredly I was not in a position to make an H ijifdent marriage, since my power to maintain 0« and family in accord wiih my own ideas. a gentleman's surroundings must depend for a j "S'derable time upon my mother's liberality. j.h.had made up my mind to go the Bar, 41. I knew how slow and hazardous is j6 road to success in that branch of the 4w\- Profession; but far dearer than mere, lQ» i °f interest was the obligation which filial ci 98 tald upon me My motber had given me the W00 years. had made me the chief object of HllIr^(l(?hta and her hopes, and I should be an itOfiuf i Wretch if I were to disappoint her. I U- .■ alas! that upon this very question of digtrl8*^6, 8^e cherished a project that it would CeJ! to forego, and that there was a hj«r 'n .frdy Emily whom I was intended to >»v f!i daughter of a nobleman who had been 8 most intimate friend, and for whom OQr nelghlxju^ a preater reKarcl t'3an f°r an^ tiear?^Wi.ng this. and wishing with all my taofchAra t ,ny duty as a son to the best of •< < T 8» A.oould but echo Martha's solent words— *• 7-"ld never do." the an;would never do.' The seraphic voice, teoq. fua* countenance, the appealing hel pless- fcie *»- j "a<^ so moved my pity, must bo to eam from which I had awakened, self • ,lza f fate must rest henceforth with her- ^*rth t honest Martha, and helped, through purse. I must never see her j hee0 1- ° word had been spoken, no hint had ^tv^ n love which it was my bounden conquer and forget. I could contemplate «on6cj^^ltal>le renunciation with a clear ^otkJT0 ^ar^er ,n that term than I had *HurnRn ^efc' and shut my door against all the »leas8lrJentlS of undergraduate friends and all the aDd a of University life. I was voted churlish f°und my books the best cure l«Ccrippy love and though the image of I was oftener with me than the of Newton or the later ghost of I Wofjf » contrived to do some really good mother and I wrote to each other once a lutein j e3FPeoted me to send her a budget of X bet* opinion, and it was only this term that a difficulty in filling two sheets of Jror paper with my niggling penmanship. I '■ttino. first time in my life I found mysolf to Pen in hand, with uothing to say mother. I could not write about 1 VpJanza> °r the passionate yearning which tryi»K to outlive. I could hardly uPon my mathematical studies to a *0^ who, although highly cultivated, knew bngt; °f mathematics. I eked out my letter as feebif °°UW« with a laboured criticism upon a of th novel which I had idly skimmed in an hour «• t1} 1 exhaustion. Iroib '0°ked forward apprehensively to my home- Q'n December, fearing that some change iu Itty ^'Ward aspect might betray the mystery of **l0n- The holiday, onoe so pleasant, would I dull. The shooting would afford tratl) rehef Perhaps, and I made up my mind to bfLP the plantations all day long. At Cam- t | had shirked physical exercise; in Suffolk A l Wa^ down my sorrow. Hrly e'ter from my mother, which reached me December, put an end to these resolves. *Wdxrbeent somewhat out ot health all I Mi0 rh November; and her local medical man, °'d ai,d pasee, had only tormented "he i. '5 medicines which made her worse. H k^eref°re decided, at Miss Marjoram's v*^do*>. 're» upon spending my vacation in KL* and ^ebson, her trusted major domo, *?l'Rh^? UP .to town, and had fonnd her *»rlc. I lodgings on the north side of Hyde Outn would await me, not at Fendyke, 1100 Onnangbt-place. *»allj jnaught-place—within less than an hour's fftat ani **reat Ormond-street! My heart beat Proninm nons'y at the mere thought of that that an Martha's latest letter had told me at finding a situation for my I kjf so far bten without result. Martha for the Charge had visited all the agencies *>»(J P'aoing of governesses and companions, Pera«° aBent had succeeded in placing 'he a*. Her education was far below 1 of the least exacting wetn»an/ )e knew very little French, and no y ear• 'f e p'ayed exquisitely, but she played 5^thiU0t tho theory of music she knew hardly dfeajv, father, an enthusiast and a r HotK filled her with ideas, but had taught > • j). thltt would help her to earn a living. "HUrtha n «you ffet about her, Mr George,' wrote ^d eh lonK as I have a roof over my ahd can make her home with me. Her bite I^k's p makes hardly any difference in the €'m only sorry, for her sake, ijtnily >8n t clever enough to get into a nice er>dvlfo i°,me pretty country house, like ^r'our t r a dull life for her here—a back 'n* two °'c' PeoP'e f°r l,er unly S'0oni8buK',l; of the small dark parlour in the dull Ury °dging house, the tinkling old piano, P<*ti0 street; a weary life for a girl of 4fttter or »ir)era,nein itiired in the country. That °*«y and the fact of being within an res()i„L 0 ^1'eut Ormond-street, broke down 'J?n the last two months. I Called aU«r j 1 ft' Vi U"' '1Pr chargn on the morning t ^'lnbiidgp. I thought Msperauza hn, -III Olnrl °1,,J of health, and could but wVl'ght. ,,c "ePalp,sad face flashedand briglitoned nil,. ,'ls-. Wo wern alone for a few minutes, «i)e '"I'lrt rt >a- 'r^iewed a butcher, and I seizwd k VMlty* I said I feared she was not rdcji Pl'y- Only l>eing unhappv "» being ° my friends, she told S'»e was depressed by finding her own uselessness. Hundreds of young women were earning their living as governesses, but no one would employ h(5-r'« No lady will even give me a trial she said. I'm afraid I must look very stupid. You look very lovely, I answered hotly. They want a commoner clay.' I implored her to believe that she was no burden to Martha or to me. If she could be content to live that dull and joyless life, she was at least secure of a safe and respectable home; and if she cared to carry on her education, some- thing might be done in the way of masters; or she might attend some classes in Harley-street, or el^owhore T She turned red and then paled, and I saw tears trembling on her long abburn lashes. •« 'I am afraid I am unteachable, she faltered, with downcast eyes. 'Kind ladies at Besbery tried to teach me, but n was no use. My mind always wandered. I could not keep my thoughts upon the book I was reading, or on what they told me. Miss Grimshaw, who wanted to help me, said I was incorrigibly idle and atrociously obstinate. But, indeed, it was not idleness or obstinacy that kept me from learning I could not force myself to think or to remember. My thoughts would only go their own way; and I cared for nothing but music, or fnr chfi noetrv my father used to read to me some- ofan eSg. I was right, and that I ought to be a dressmaker "I glanced at the hands which lay loosely elapsed upon the arm of the chair in which she was sitting. Such delicately tarring fingers were never meant for the dressmaker's workroom. The problem of Esperanza's life was not to be solved th"Ydid^ not remain long on this first morning but I went again two days afterwards, and again, until it came to be every day. Martha grumbled and warned me of my danger, and of the wrong done to Esperanza, if I were to make her care fo^I"r' cion't] think there's much fear of that,' Martha. She's too much in the clouds. lJ?vour» afraid of. You and I know who mamma "wants you to marry, don't us, Mr G^Igoou*d not gainsay Martha upon this point. Ladv Emily and I had ridden the same rocking- hnrse • she riding pillion with her arms clasped round'niy waisb. whlie I urged ihe to his LXt moe. We had taken tea out of the same Tav teitSs-her tea-things-and1 before I was fifteen years of age my mother told me that she was pleased to see I was so fond of Emily. and honed that she and I would be husband and wife some dav, in the serious future, just as we were little lovers now in the childish present. » I remember laughing at my mother s speech, and thinking within myself that Emily and I hardly realised my juvenile idea of lovers. The antic element was entirely wanting in our association. When I talked of Lady E.mly later toiGerald Standish, I remember I described her 1= i eood sort,' and discussed her excellent mialities of mind and temper with an unem- barrassed freedom which testified to a heart that T^elt more mortified than I would have cared to confess at Martha's blunt assurance that Esoeranza was too much in the clouds to care about me and it may be that this remark of my old nurse's gave just the touch of pique that acted as a spur to passion. I know that after two or three afternoons in Great Ormond-street, I felt that I loved this girl as I could never love again, and that henceforward it would be impossible for me to contemplate the idea of life without her. The more fondly I loved her, the less demonstrative 1 became, and my growing reserve threw dnst in the elderly eyes that watched us. Martha believed that her warning had taken effect, and she so far confided in my discretion as to allow me to take Esperanza. for lamp-lit walks in the Bloomsbury-squares, after our cosy tea- drinking in the little back parlour. The tea- drinking and the walks became an institution. Martha's rheumatics had made walking exercise impossible for her during the last month. Ben- iamm was fat and lazy. If I didn't let the poor child go out with you, she'd hardly get a breath of fresh air all the winter. And I know that I can trust you, Mr George.' said Martha. Yes. you can trust me, answered I. 0; She might trust me to breathe no word of vil into the ear of her I loved. She could trust me to revere the childlike innocence which was my darling's highest charm. She could trust me to be loyal and true to Esperanza. But she could not trust me to be worldly wise, or to sacrifice my own happiness to filial affection. The time came when I had to set my love for Esperanza against my duty to my mother and my own interests. Dnty and interest kicked the beam. Ob, those squares t those grave old Blooms- My mother stepped out. I jurysquares, with their formal rows of windows, ind monotonous iron railings, and ways, and clean doorsteps, and enclosures oi irees, whose blackened branches showed leafless vgainst the steely sky of a frosty evening What proves Jor streams of paradise could be Sn those dull pavements which we paced ar S n-arm in the wintry greyness, telling each oon those thoughts and fancies wbich seemed in their and f. intuitive sympathy to mark us for p ife-oompanions. Her thoughts ^re chxld shly ^pressed sometimes, but it seemed to meialway is if they were only my thoughts in a fam.n.ne ruise. Nothing that she said ever jarrec1 "p? ne and her ignorance of the world and a,U .i ts vays suggested some nymph or fairy Iea™d '7. Refusion of woodland or ocean, I thought of Bndymion, and I fancied that his goddess cou. ,ave been scarcely less of the earth than th'^ir rirl who walked beside me, confiding in me like a ihild-like faith. iirfl "One night I told her that1 ,'°lve1 lad stayed out later than usual. The clock of St. Urge's Church was striking n>ue and in the •hadowy quiet of Queen's-square my 1'P3 et hers nlSs first kiss. How shyly and how falteringly ihe confessed her own secret, so carefully guarded 'A^I1 never thought you could care for a poor rirl like me,' she said • but I loved youJwmthj Irst Yes, almost from the very first. My eemed frozen after my father's death, and your S was the first that thawed it. The dull, ^numbed feeling gradually passed away, and I cnew that I had someone living to love andi care „rd think about as I sat alone. I had a world >f new thoughts to interweave with the musio I °V\ Ah that music, Esperanza I ^l1003^ j ealous of music when /see you so moved and 1 D?>afj,jusio would have been my only consolation f you 3 not cared for me,' she answered, H"P,1But I do care for you, aud I want you to ,e fl,y wife, now at once—as 'soon as we can be "^ilalked about an immediate marriage before he registrar. But willing as she was to be guided ,y mfinmost things, she would not consent to < 'It would not seem like marriage to me,' she i aid if we did not stand before the altar. | ''Well, it shall be a church, then; only we h.ll have to wait longer. And I must go back o Cambridge at the end of the week. I ixe^n" come up to London on our wedding < inv and take you home in the evening. I 8liali a^ a quiet home ready for my darling, out of he way of dons and undergraduates, but within ( "I explained to her that our marriage must be 3 JoZ till I Crime of age next year, or till I 'ould find a favourable opportunity of breaking j h?.f.aWilu"eSd?r Will she be angry?' asked i when she comes to know you, dear 1 °^ Well as I knew my mother's character, I < v,l3 infatuated enough to believe what I said. AThere was the heart so stony that w°uM n .arm to that fair and gentle creature? Where he pride so stubborn which that tender liiuuenc °° I "StTp U.. b»nn» u the oho™l. <* S'. I I Jeorge the Martyr, assured that Martha s rht i a! LaI1d Benjamin's lethargic temper would m!r. Sther of them MMndiw 'h. > urvice on any of the three fateful Sundays. If Martha went to church at all she crept therein he evening, after tea. She liked the gaslights nd the evening warmth, the short Pra^a» anc j hn lone sermon, and she met her own class inong the congregation. I felt tolerably safe 1 ,b^afctjt^ybmother been in good health, it would iftVB been diffcult for me to spend so many of my vlnines away from home; but the neuralgic « k:,fn whicb had troubled her in Suffolk had ? SSI «Siug.t.d by ft. Go,r..rglme, and he passed a good deal of ber life in her <mn ooms and in semi-darkness, ministered to ror a 1v '(uho had been a member of our household 've? shlce my father's death, and whose presence < lad been the only drawback to my homo happi- J °"9This lady was my mother's governess—Miss < il-iriorum—a woman of considerable brain power, • Sde knowledge of English and German l.tera- ure. and a style of pianoforte playing which t !ways iiad the effect of cold water down iuy back. Lml yet Miss Ma riorum played correct!}', tone iitroduced no discords into that hard, dry music, diich seemed tf» me to have been wi-,t^n xpressly for her hard and precise fi^er-t.p^, ony knuckles, and broad strong hand, witha humb which she boasted of as resembling ^halberg's. In a difficult and com pi i- ated movement MPS Mnjorum's thumb worked wonders. It was ubiquitous it turned under and over, and rapped out sharp staccato notes in the midst of presto runs, or held rigid semibreves while the active fingers fired volleys of chords, or raced the bass with lightning triplets. In whatever entanglement of florid ornament Liszt or Thalberg had wrapped up a melody. Miss Marjoram's thumb could search ib out and drum it into her auditors, Miss Mat jorum was on the wrong side of fifty. She had a squat figure and a masculine countenance, and her voice was deep and strong, like the voice of a man. She dressed with a studious sobriety in dark cloth or in grey alpaca, according to the seasons, and in the evening she generally wore plaid poplin, which ruled her pquaro, squat figure into smaller squares. I have observed an affinity between plain people and plaid poplin. Miss Marjorum was devoted to my mother and antagonistic as her nature was to me in all things, and blighting as was her influence upon, the fond dream of my youth I am bound to record that she was conscientious in carrying out her own idea of duty. Her idea of duty unhappily included no indulgence for youthful impulses, and she disapproved of every indepen- dent act of mine. My evening absences puzzled her. 1 I wonder you can like to be out nearly every evening when your mother is so ill,' she remarked severely, on my return to Connaught- place after that glimpse of paradise in Queen- square. I If I could be of any use to my mother by staying at home, you may be sure I should not go out. Miss Marjoram,' I replied, rather stiffly. I It would be a satisfaction to your mother to know you were under her roof, even when she is obliged to be resting quietly in her own room,' Unfortunately my mathematical coach lives under another roof, and I have ito accommodate myself to his hours.' This was sophistication bnt it was true that I read mathematics with an ex-senior wrangler In South Kensington every other day. Do ,you spend every evening with your coach ?" asked Miss Marjoram, looking up sud. denly from her needlework, and fixing me with her cold grey eye.. Certainly not. You know the old saw— All work and no play And how do you amuse yourself when you are not at South Kensington? I did not think you knew many people in London ?" "That is because I know very few people whom you know. My chief friends are the friends of my college life—not the worthy bucolics of Suffolk." Miss Marjorum sighed, and went on with her sewing. She delighted in the plainest of plain work—severest undergarments of calico or flannel. She had taken upon herself to supply my mother's poorer cottage tenants with under- clothing—a very worthy purpose but I could not help wishing she had deferred a little more to the universal sense of beauty in her contributions to the cottagers' wardrobes. Surely those prison. like garments must have appalled their recipients. My inexperienced eye noted only their ugliness in shape and coarseness of texture. I longed for a little trimming, a softer quality of flannel, I am afraid they must huit'the people who get them,' I said one day when Miss Marjoram exhibited her bale of flannel underwear. They are delightfully warm. and friction is beneficial to health,' she replied severely. 'I don't know what more you would have.' It irked me not a little to note Miss Mar- jorum's suspicious air when she discussed my evening occupations, for I knew she had more influence over my mother than anyone living, and I fancied that she would not soruple to use that influence against me. I had lost her friend- ship long ago by childish rudenesses, which I looked back upon with regret, but which I could not obliterate from her memory by the studious civilities of later years. I went back to Cambridge, and my mother and her devpted companion left Connaught-place for Brighton, Sir Wm. Gull having lecommended sea air, after exhausting his scientific means in the weary battle with nerve pain. It was a relief to me, when I thought of Esperanza, to know that Miss Marjorum was fifty miles away from Great Ormond-street. Those suspicious glances and prying questions of hers had frightened me. Then I thought of Esperanza !—when was she not the centre and circumference of my thoughts ? I worked hard missed no lecture neglected no opportunity for I had made up my mind to play the game of life off my own bat; but Esperanza's image was with me whatever I was doing. I think I mixed up her personality in an extraordinary fashion with the higher mathematics. She perched like a fairy upon every curve, or slid sylph-like along every line. I weighed her, and measured her, and calculated the doctrine of chances about her. She became in my mind the all-pervading spirit of the science of quantity and number. Could this int6rval between the asking in church and my wedding day be any other than a period of foolish dreaming, of fond confusion and wandering thoughts I was not twenty-ona, and I was about to take a step which would inevitably offend my only parent, the only being to whom I stood indebted for care and affection. In the rash hopefulness of a youthful passion, I made sure of being nltimately forgiven but, hopeful as I was, I knew it might be some time before 1 could obtain pardon. In the meantime I had an income which would suffice for a youthful menage. I would find a quiet home for Ksperanza at one of the villas on the Grandobester-road till I bad taken my degree, and then I should have to begin work in London. Indeed, I had fixed in my own mind upon a second floor in Martha's roomy old house, which would be conveniently near the Temple, where I might share a modest set of chambers with a Cambridge friend. In the deep intoxication of my love-dream, Great Ormond- street seemed just the most delightful- spot in which to establish the cosy home I figured to myself. It would be an infinite advantage to live uuder my dear old nurse's roof, and to know that she would watch over my girl-wife while I sat waiting for briefs in my dingy chambers, op read- ing law with an eminent Q.C. I had asked Esperanza, on the night of our betrothal whethershe thought we could live upon five hundred a year. A ripple of laughter pre- luded her reply. Dear George, do you know what my father's income was ? she asked. Sixty-five pounds a year. He paid fifteen pounds a year for our cottage and garden—such a dear old garden—and we had to live and clothe ourselves upon the other fifty pounds. He was very shabby sometimes, poor darling; but we were always happy. Though I seem so helpless in getting my own living, I think I could keep house for you, and not waste your money. Five hundred a year I Why, you are immensely rich I told her that I should be abia to add to our income by the time we had been married a few years, and then we would have a house in the country, a garden, and a pair of ponies for her to drive, and cows and poultry, and all the things that women love. What a happy dream it was, and how the sweet pale face brightened under the lamp-light as she listened to me. I wantS nothing but your love 'she said, nothing. I am not afraid of poverty.' .1 The three weeks were gone. I got an exeat, and went up to London by an early train. I had directed Esperanza to meet me at the church, whose doors we had so often passed together in our evening walks, and where we had knelt side by side one Sunday evening. She was to take Martha to church with her; but not till the last moment, not till they wate at the point of starting was she to tell my old nurse what was going to happen, lest an idea of duty to the mother should induce her to betray the son. The air was crisp and bright, and the wintry landscape basked in the wintry sun between Cambridge and Stratford, bub the dnll greyness of our Metropolitan winter wrapped me round when I left Bishopsgate-street, and there was a thin curtain of fog hanging over my beloved Bloomsbury when my hansom rattled along the sober old-world streets to the heavy Georgian church. I sprang from the oab as if I had worn Mercuxy's sandals, told the man to wait, and ran lightly up the steps, pushed back the heavy door aud entered the dark temple, bushed and breath- less. How solemn the church looked, how grey the great cold windows. The fog seemed thicker here than in the streets outside. I looked at my watch. Twenty minutes to eleven. I had entreated her to be at church at least ten minutes before the hour; and I felt bitterly disappointed that she had nob anticipated le appointment. Her last letter was three days old. Could ube be ill ? could any evil thing have happened ? I hurried back to the church door, intending to get into my cab and drive to Ormond-street. I changed my mind before I had crossed the threshold I might miss her on the way—drive by one street while"he and Martha were walking on another. Again there was something un. dignified in a bridegroom rushing off in search of his bridge. My place was to wait in church. I had seen a good many weddings in our parish church in Suffolk, and I knew that the bride was :iliuost always into. Yet, in spite of this experience I had expected my bride in advance of the appointed time. She had no wreath of orange-blossoms, no bridal veil to adjust, no doting mother, or sister bridesmaids to flurry and hinder her under the pretence of helping. She had no carriage to wait for. Her impatience to see me after nearly three weeks should have brought her to church earlier than this. Then I remembered Martha. No doubt she was waiting for Maitha. That good old soul was interviewing the butcher, or adjusting her Paisley < shawl, while I was fretting and fuming in the church. I had no best man to reason with my impatience and keep up my spirits. My best man was to be the parish clerk, and he had not yet appeared upon the scene. I saw a pew-opener creeping about, a pew-opener in the accustomed close black bonnet and sober apparel. Esperanza's bridesmaid Martha would have to give ber away. I took a turn round the church. looked at the monuments, and even stood still to read a tablet here and there, and knew no more of the inscription after I had read it than if it had been in arrow-headed|characters. I opened the heavy door and went out on the steps and stood watching a stray cab or a stray pedestrian, dimly visible through the thickening :og. I looked at my watch every other minute, between anger and despair. It was five minutes to 11. The curate who was to marry us passed me on the steps and went into the church, unsus- pecting that I was to be the chief actor in the cremony. I stood looking along the streets, in the only direction in which my bride was to be expected, and my heart sickened as the slow minutes wore themselves out, till it was nearly a quarter-past 11. I could endure this no longer. My hansom was waiting on the opposite side of the street. I lifted my finger, and signed to the driver to come over to me. There was uothing for it but to go to Great Ormond-street, and discover the cause of delay. Before the man could climb into his seat and cross the road, a brougham drove sharply up to the church steps—a brougham of dingy aspect, driven by a man whose livery branded him as a flyman. "I was astonished at the fly, but never doubted that it brought me my dear love, and my heart was light again, and I ran to greet her with a welcoming smile. The carriage door was sharply opened from within, and my mother stepped out and stood before me, tall and grave, in her neat dark travelling dress, her fine features sharp and clear in the wintry gloom. 4* Mother!' I exclaimed, aghast. I know I am not the person you expected, George,' she said quietly. Badly as you have behaved to me, I am soriy for your disappoint- ment.' Where is Esperanza ?" I cried, unheeding my mother's address. It was only afterwards that her words came back to me—in that long dull afterwards when I had leisure to brood over every detail in this agonising scene. She is safe and ill good hands, and she is where you will never see her again." That's a lie I cried. If she is among the living, I will find her—if she is dead, I will follow her.' "'You are violent and unreasonable; but I suppose your romantic infatuation must excuse you. When you have read this letter you will be calmer, I hope.' She gave me a letter in Esperanza's writing. We had moved a few paces from the churoh steps while we talked. I read the letter, walking slowly along the street, my mother all my side. Dearest,— "'1 am going away. I am not to be your wife. It was a happy dream, but a foolish one. I should have ruined your life. That has been made dear to me; and I love you far too dearly to be your enemy. You will never see me again. Don't be unhappy about me I shall be well cared for. I am going very far away but if ill were to the furthest end of the earth, and if I were to live a hundred years, I should never cease to love you, or learn to love you less. Good-bye for ever, Esperanza.' I know whose band is in this,' I said—'Miss Marjoram.' 01 Miss Marjorum is my true and loyal friend, and yours too, though you may not believe it.' Whoever it may be who has stolen my love away from me, that person is my dire and deadly foe. Whether the act is yours or hers, it is the act of my bitterest enemy, and I shall ever so remember it. Look here, mother, let there be no misunderstandingbetweenyouand me. I love this girl better than my life. Whatever trick you have played upon her, whatever cajoleries you and Miss Marjorum have brought to bear upon her, whatever false representations you may have made appealing to her selfishness against her love, you have done that which will wreck your son's life unless you can undo it.' I have saved my son from the shipwreck his own folly would have made of his life,' my mother answered calmly. I have seen what these unequal marriages come to—before the wife is thirty. III would be no unequal marriage. The girl I love is a lady. A village organist's daughter by her own confession totally without education. A pretty, delicate young creature with a certain surface refinement, I grant you; but do you think that would stand the wear and tear of life, or counter-. balance your humiliation when people asked questions about your wife's antecedents and be- longings ? People, even the politest people, will asked those questions, George. My dear, dear, boy. the thing you were to have done to-day would have been utter ruin to your social exist- ence for the next fifty years. You will never be rich enough or great enough to live down such a marriage.' Don't preach to me,' I cried savagely. 'You have broken my heart. Surely that is enough for you.' I broke away from her as she laid hand upon my arm—such a shapely hand in a dark grey glove. I remembered even in that moment of auguish and of Anger bow my dear love bad often walked by my side, loveless, shabbier than a milliner's apprentice. No, she was not of my mother's world no more was Tibania. She belonged to the realm of romance and feerie not to Belgravia or Mayfair. I ran back to the spot where the hansom sfail waited for me, jumped iu, and told the man to drive to Great Ormond-street. I left my mother standing on the pavement, to find her way back to her carriage as she Stood, to go where she would. "I knocked at the lodging-house door loud enough to wake the seven sleepers. I pushed past the scared maid-servant, and flashed into Martha's parlcur. She was sitting with her spectacles on her nose poring over a tradesman's book, and with other books of the same kind on the table before her. Martha, this is your doing,' I said, • you have betrayed me to my mother.' Oh, Mr George, forgive your old nnrse that loves you as if you were her own flesh and blood. I only did my duty by you and my mistress. It would never have done, dear; ib would never have done.' "She called me dear,' as in the old nursery days. Tears were streaming down her withered cheeks.' It was you, then.' 'Yes, it was me, Mr George, leastways me and Benjamin. We talked it over a long time before he wrote the letter to my mistress at Brighton. Sarah came home from church on Sunday dinner time. The drawing-rooms were dining out, and the second floor is empty, so there was nothing to hinder Sarah's going to church. She came home at dinner time, and told me you and Esperanza Campbell had been asked in church—for the third time. You might have knocked me down with a feather. I never thought she could be so artful. I talked it over with Benjamin, and he posted a letter that night.' 'And Miss Marjorum came up from Brighton next morning, and came to see Esperanza.' How did you know that, Mr George r '1 I know Miss Marjorum.' Yes, it was Miss Marjorum that came. She asked to see Esperanza alone, and they were shut up together for over ah hour, and then the bell was rung, and Miss Marjorum told the girl to pack up Miss Campbell's things, bring her box down to the hall, and when she had done that, to fetsh a four-wheeler. Sarah was nearly as upseb as I was, but she and I packed the things between us—such a few things, poor child—and carried the box downstairs, and I waited 1D the hall while Sarah ran for the cab. And presently Esperanza came out with Miss Majorum, and put on her bat and jacket, and then came to bid me good-bye. 'She put her arms round my neck and kissed me, aud though I had done my duty by you and your mal Mr George, I felt bke Judas. It was right of you to tell," she said it was only right —for his sake," and Miss Marjoram hurried her down the steps and into the ca.b before she could say another word. I do believe the poor dear child gave you up withoub a murmur, Mr George, beoause she knew that it would have been your ruin to marry her.' "'Fudge. That bad been drummed into her by Miss Marjorum. You have done me the worst turn you ever did any one in your hfe, Martha; and yet I thought if there was anybody in the world I could trust it was you. Where did the cab go—do you know that ?" "Charing Cross Station. I heard Mrs Mar. jorum give the order. (To be continued.)
SINGULAR TEXT.
SINGULAR TEXT. f J ADa Cakebread'a 278th conviction w&s the subject of a religious service in one of the City churches on Sunday. In one point of view she may possibly he classed with Bentbam and with Roiflilly as a reformer of our penal system. It is difficult to believe that the scandal of her approaching third century" of trivial punish- ments for what is evidently an incurable disease can fail to shame Parliament into some amendment of the law. She ought to be kept out of mischief to herself and to others for the rest of her life, by being placed in painless custody. Her case by no means stands nlone; she is only at the head of a class. At Clerkenwell on Saturday Mr Bras-confessed to a conflict of opinion between the authorities as to an old offender who had been often before him. When I send you to the Workhouse," he said to this woman, they say yon are sane, and when I send you to prison the authorities, say you are insane." The poor creature's answers snowed that the prison authori- ties were quite right, yet justice had once more 110 go through the farce of sending an incurable lunatic to gaol.—Daily Chronicle.
---. CRICKHOWELL AGRICULTURAL…
CRICKHOWELL AGRICULTURAL SOCIETY. The Hth annual show of this society was held at Crickhowell, in the Glanyrafon fields, on Monday. There was an unusually large attend- ance, no less than 2,327 persons having passed the turnstiles at 4 o clock, iu addition to which must be considered tbe people who passed in by ticket. carriage people, etc., which would bring the number up to over 3,000. There was a buttet competition, but no butter-making on the ground. The sheep-dog trials proved, as usual, a great attraction, and the work done by the dogs was nxceptionally good. Mr F. J. Da.vies, of the Britannia Inn, and Mr Rees Price, butcher catered for tho luncheon tent, which was largely patronised, the elite of the neighbourhood sitting down to table, and Major Parkinson, presideobol the society, being in the chair. The weather WM all that could be desired, and a great number at ladies apparently took a deep interest in bhe driving classes.
LORD ROSEBERY & CROMWELL.
LORD ROSEBERY & CROMWELL. At the last meeting of the Social Science Session of Grindewald Oonterence on Satur- day, which was devoted to the discus- sion of the relation between the Press and gambling, Mr Fletcher, late editor of the Daily Chronicle, said the relation between the Press and gambling was intimate, demoralising, and indefensible. Lord Rosebery had defended his connection with the turt by an appeal to Oliver Cromwell. Cromwell gambled in his youth, but when he came to .take a serious view of life ho returned all money wou. The speaker suggested Lord Rosebery should do similarly.
Advertising
WEDDING, KEBPER, AND JB/NOAGEMKNT RING80- Gr*at Variety at '1'aintb's, 2, St. Mary-street, Cardiff.
.THE DOCTOR'S STORY. I.
THE DOCTOR'S STORY. I BY DARLEY DALE, Author of "The Village Blacksmith," &o. [ALL RIGHTS KE8IBVKD.] For two years that secret was undiscovered, and then it eventually was found out through me. Even then it was kept, for I only confided it to one person of the stronger sex. The secret concerned the inhabitants of a certain house called the Corner House, which stood in one of the principal streets in Uastleton. which is a pseudonym for a certain cathedral city. A certain prestige had always attached to this house; it was supposed to rank with the Close in point of precedence, and until the two mysterious persons whom my tale concerns took possession of It its residents had always been people of good position, who kept themselves aloof from the townspeople, for Castleton, like most cathedral cities, bad several cliques. The Corner House stood empty for a year, and then the day the news came that it was let to two very rich foreigners. It was redecorated and furnished in a most sumptuous style before they took posses- sion of lb, and there was a greab deal of gossip in the city as to who the new.comers were, and why they bad come to Castleton. They turned out to be two Americans; both were yoiing, both were evidently gentlemen. One, the younger, was remarkably handsome; the other was about thirty, a well-built man of middle stature, rather dark in complexion, with a keen, clever face, and a pleasant expression. They kept a pair of driving horses and a landau, and they drove out regularly web or fine, every afternoon. They had three'indoor servants, all men, and all of different nationalities—the cook was Portuguese and he spoke a little broken English, just enough to give orders to the trades- people the footman was Italian and could not speak a word of English beyond the formula, not at home," which he lisped in a parrot-like fashion in reply to every visitor. The other servant was a French boy of about eighteen, who did most of the housework and was rarely seen. The coachman was a local man, but be knew no more about his masters than anyone else, for the Italian footman, who sat by bis side on the box for two hours every day, was unable to talk to him. All this oozed out bv degrees. It was some months before even as much as this was known about the new arrivals; we were not even c" rtain about bbeir names. the house was taksn by a Mr Theodore Brocklehurst, but which of the two men was Mr Brocklehurst no one knew. Equal ignorance prevailed as to their rela- tions to each other, and what could have iuduced them to settle in Castleton was a problem which constantly exercised the minds of the local gossips. The man. is mad. Various reports gob afloat about them; some said they were Russians of high degree who had escaped from Siberia; some said they were detectives in pursuit of a criminal some said they were adventurers some said they were Anarcbistsf; bub that they were American was the generally received opinion. When they had been about three months in Castleton, and ib was found they paid the tradespeople regularly, the professional class in the city began to call upon them. but everyone received the same answer, Not at home," and no one was admitted. I called and left cards, bub like everyone else I was denied admission, and about a week after their landau stopped at my house one day and the Italian footman left the cards of Mr Brockle- hurst and Mr Donaldson, and that was all I saw of them until nearly two years later, when I was sent for in my professional capacity. By this time almost all the best" people in the neighbourhood had called on the mys- terious occupants of the Corner House, but every one alike, the cathedral clergy, the country squires, even a few of the nobility, who hearing of the exclusiveness of the rich Americans who were living there left their cards upon them-all were told Not at home," and all received return-cards about a week after their visits. No one SAW, or. beard, or knew any more of them than this ;,and who they really were, why they enshrouded themselves in so much mystery, why they had come to CaaMeton, was as great a secret at the end of two years as it was the first day they came. The happiesb gossips of the place waxed malignant in their remarks J bub there was not any ground for the scandal that was talked about them the worst that could be said of them was, that they were very unsociable; and as they probably knew nobbing of whab was said of them, it did them no barm. I confess when they at lasb sent for me in my professional capacity, I was very curious and nob a little pleased to find I was the favoured person who was at last privileged to cross the threshold of the Corner House. My summons came in the form of a note, written in the third person by Mr Brocklehurst, who, presented his compli- ments, and would be glad if I could come imme- diately to see his friend, Mr Donaldson, who was suffering from a sudden attack of influenza. I lost no time in calling, and was silently admitted by the Italian footman, and shown into the dining-room, which was very handsomely furnished, and contained some valuable oil- paintings. One picture which hung over the chimney- Piece caught my eye on entering, for itwas a very tine portrait of one of the loveliest girls I ever saw. I was received by the younger of the two men, and a remarkably handsome fellow he was, with a somewhat nervous but very courteous manner. He bowed in a foreign fashion on my entrance, and thanked me for answering his note so promptly. "My friend Donaldson was attacked by in- fluenza last evening, he had a very bad night, and he feels so ill to-day that be wished me to send for you. I hope it is nob serions, bub ib is such an insidious disease, I should nob like to run any risks." As he spoke he glanced involuntarily at the portrait and sighed, while I suggested that I should go and see the patient. By all means, but before you go I have a very painful disclosure to make." p- Here he paused and hesitated, and ib was evidently with a great effort that he at length proceeded. The truth is, my poor friend suffers at times from delusions he is quite harmless he would not hurt a fly, and he is perfectly sane on every other subject. I would defy you or any other doctor to detect there was anything wrong with him in fact, unless I warned you, you would probably not discover his hallucination, and would imagine he was speaking the truth." "Indeed It is very strange, bub not uncom- mon what form does his delusion take ?" I asked. A most uupleasanb one he imagines every one else to be mad; he will probably tell you that I am, so I thought it better to war.,ou. Of course, this is quite between ourselves, not even the servants are aware of it I never let them go near him when he is suffering from an attack." Thanks for telling me. With your permission I will go upstairs," said I, thinking as I followed Brocklehurt upstairs that the mystery was solved, and at last I knew the reason of the seclusion they had observed. I found Donaldson in bed. and undoubtedly suffering from influenza, and from rather a sharp attack. I took his tempera- ture, and wrote a prescription, and gave him some directions, and was about to leave when he stopped me. "One moment, please. I should nob have sent for you on my own account, but I may be laid up for a day or two, and I shall certainly be weak after the fever leaves me, so I thought it safer to call you in, The truth is I am here in professional attendance on my friend Mr Brocklehurst, who is subject to attacks of mental aberration." Yes, yea, so I have heard, but he is all right now. Don't you worry about him," said I, in what was meant to be a soobhing manner, for Brocklehursb's warning had prepared n\e for this. By Jove you don t mean to say he has said anything to you ? I was afraid he bad an attack coming on—that was why I sent for you. Ho has told you I suffer from delusions, hasn't he 2" said the sick man. Well, well, well, you know. Of course, one I must make allowances for cases of this kind," said I, feeling rather uncomfortable, nob knowing what form tho man's mania might take if I annoyed him. "By heaven, Dr. Hawbrey, I see you believe him. My good air; I assure you I am amedica) man, Brocklehurst is my pabient, I have more influence over him than anyone eIse in the world, and we live here in the hope thab as time goes on he may recover. His attacks are less frequent and of less duration now than they were. I feared one was impending, and I may as well tell you that if I am helpless when he breaks out, my life and .v that of the servants won t be worth much," said Donaldson, eagerly raising himself on one elbow as he spoke. I was in a dilemma. I knew absolutely nothing of cither man, and in the brief interviews I had just had one struok me as quite as sane as the other. It was clear, however, that one of the two was mad, and it was my duty to find out which. I was more disposed to believe Brocklehurst to be the sane one. To donbb him was to acknowledge that I had been duped by him, a confession no doctor would care to make. I thought of the servants, and wondered if they could help me in my difrcqlty, but Brocklehurst Imd told me, they were ignorant of his friend's malady. Do you speak Portuguese ?" said Donaldson, suddenly, as if guessing my thoughts. "No, nor Italian." That's a pity, because the cook is Portuguese and the foolrnan Italian. They could either of them confirm my statement. I assure yon I am neW delirious, bat unless you believe me, and send some man to look after me for a few days, there is no telling what the consequences may be. Beppo and the cook can manage poor Brockle- hurst between them, but I must have a nurse, and I prefer a man. I see you still hesitate," he added. Not abali, nob at all," said I, lamely, for I wanted some proof of his statements before I believed him, which I was still far from doing. He threw himself back on bis pillow with a short, bub not very mirthful laugh. This would really be amusing if ib were nob so uncommonly serious. However, after what I have told you, you are tesponsible for my safety, and I assure you if Brocklehurst breaks out, as he may at any moment, and will before morning, my life is nob worth much. The servants can manage him if he is violenb; but they can't cope with his cunning. I wanb a trustworthy person with me until I am strong enough to protect myself." I'll stay with you myself, to-nighb," I said suddenly, thinking this would give me ample time to judge which was the sane man, for plausible as Donaldson's story sounded, I still hesitated. Thank you. Be careful not to let bim suspect why, or he may attack you," he said, with a look of intense relief. I must send a note to my wife to say I am detained here till the morning," I remarked, and after writing one the French servant was senb with it; Donaldson informing the footman in Italian that I should dine with his master, and remain for the night.1 Fjrancois had not left the honse five minutes before we heard a terrible struggle and noise downstairs, and Donaldson, who was dosing, roused himself and told me to go and see for my- self what it was. I went, and whafJI saw left me no doubt as to who was the madman. I rushed back to Donald- son, and asked if I oould do anything, and even- tually succeeded in administering a draught to poor Brocklehurst, which oalmed him and sent him to sleep. He will be all right in the morning, but be may have another attack before I am well. He is much bebber bhan when we came here, and I have great hopes, of his ultimate recovery, but you see my fears were not ill-founded," said Donaldson. They were not, indeed; and I never was more thankful 10 my life than to think that I had remained with him. I sent my assisbanb in the next day, and one of us remained in the bouse until Donaldson had recovered. I learnt from him that the beautiful girl whose portrait I had admired so much was Brockle- hurst's sister; that she had died from pneumonia following on influenza; tbab Brocklehurst, who worshipped her, had been mad with grief at the time, and subject to these attacks of mental disease ever since. Absolute quiet and entirely new surroundings had been prescribed as the best chance of recovery, hence their residence in the Corner House, Castleton having been recommended as a very healthy spot. They remained there nearly a year after I made their acquaintance, they then returned to America, Brocklehurst having by this time quite recovered. This was the mystery of the Corner House, one never solved by Castletqn gossips, for I and my assistant kept the secret faithfully. [THB END.]
LOCAL AMUSEMENTS.
LOCAL AMUSEMENTS. Theatre Royal (Cardiff). On Monday evening the popular burlesque "Don Juan." round which so much controversy was:waged on its initial visib to Cardiff, again occupied the boards of the Royal Theatre, Cardiff, and will be continued nightly throughout the week. Judging from the large audience which patronised the theatre last evening, there can be little doubt that, despite the opposition of the purist party, the piece bits the popular taste, for from beginning to end this refreshing burlesque, sparkling with wit and humour, elaborate scenery, and prettily designed and elegant dresses, kept its hearers inaoonbinual state of merriment and delight. There are a few changes in the company since its last visit, but in no instance has the representation suffered by the new artistes. There are a number of new songs and dances, while the quips and cranks hit off at the expense of local celebrities and institutions, enhance the success of the play. Pedrillo is still in the hands of Mr Fred Eastman, and his versatility and comicalities are more than ever ludioious, his performance throughout fully sustaining his reputation as a mimical characber. Miss Belle Harcourt and Miss Florence Forster as Isabella and Don Juan respectively proved a greater sucoess than for- merly. The pas seul in the third act by Miss Katie Fredericks as Donna Julia was surpas- singly graceful, being marked with a brilliant execution and finish that deservedly won :the generous plaudits of the large audience. Mr Russell Wallett as Lambro, with Mr Kennedy Allenfas his lieutenant, Miss Maud Jackson as Haidee, and Miss Marion Martell as Donna Inez, gave artistic performances, and won the ecomiums of the house. The chorus is one of the most attractive ever staged, and sang with sweet. ness the many pasts alloted to ii). The Grand Theatre (Cardiff). The popularity of Miss Minnie Palmer is so genuine and so widespread that ill was only to be expected there would be a crowded house on the occasion of her present visit to Cardiff. But more than ordinary interest abtacbes to her latesb re- appearance in our midst, fur she introduces on this occasion a new and cleverly constructed comedy opera, entitled The School Girl." We are so accustomed to associate the name of Miss Minnie Palmer with "My Sweetheart," that it comes almost as a surprise bo see her in an entirely new role. But it can be remarked only with satisfaction that all the sprightliness of manner, all the crispness of youthful pleasantry, all the exuberanoe of spirit and flexibility of style which she so unfailingly imparted into her performances in other parts are present in her latesb impersona- tion, that of Louisa Allason, or, as she is more familiarly known, little Miss Loom "The School Girl." The opera, as can readily be gathered from its title, has as its chief incident the too pronounced tendency towards mischief and romping of the light-hearted Louisa., who, as a natural consequence, becomes the ringleader in every piece of girlish mischief and the disturbing influence in the boarding school wherein she is a pupil. The work is written by Mr George Manchester, while the music is composed by Mr Albert Maurice; and beth have performed their tasks admirably. There is not a dull passage in the book, and the author has shown a wise sense of fitness by nob striving to have the merriment too violent or uproarious. It goes with a fine easy swing that is thoroughly entertaining with- out being too flagrantly in defiance of all the laws of probability, and without degenerating into burlesque or extravaganza. The musio is light, sweet, and full of variety, while not a few of the lyrics are likely to become fast favourites with the public. As produced on Monday evening by Mr George Capel, of the Empire Theatre, London, the opera was a complete success, and went with perfect smoothness from begining to end. While the company is a strong and well organised one, it need not be said that Miss Minnie Palmer, in her incomparable naivete, and excellent representa- tion of girlish audacity and innocent mischief, gave a performance equal in all essential features with anything in her previous record. Her singing was sweet, light, and in admirable keeping with the characber which she has oreabed, while her sallies of wit fandf dashes of coqueting had that sparkle which she so well knows how to impart to them. As Mrs Allason, Miss Agnes Hewitt acted with perfect success receiving the most cordial applause, while Miss Ada Walgreave as Madge Gainsbury, played the part with an ability that was quickly reoog- nised. Mr George Slater as Jack Godsden pourtrayed the French wibh thab exaggeration of style that made it irresistibly comic, and Mr C. A. Russell as the professor deserves the warmest praise. The chorus was powerful and well trained, and tbe orchestra, conducted by Chevalier Legrand, rendered the instrumental music with taste and precision. There were frequent calls before the curtain at the olose of each act, and the joint authors were the recipients of a most flattering demon: ration at the olose.
- OXFORDACAMMtDGE SCHOOLS…
OXFORDACAMMtDGE SCHOOLS EXAMINATIONS. Local Successes. The results of the recent examination under the Oxford and Cambridge Schools Examination Board were issued on Monday at Oxford by the joint secretaries, Messrs E. J. Gross and P. E. Matheson. HIGHER CERTIFICATES—BOYS.; CHRIST COLLEGE, Brecon.—J. S. Bookless, A. J. Harding, R. C. Meuneer, and M. H. LI. Williams. LLANDOVERY COLLEGE.—H. R. V. Ball, A. P. Carter, A. W. Davies. G. Eva.ns, O. L. Evans, E. J. Griffiths, A. E. Jones. G. T. R. Jones, T. H. Jones, D. J. Lewis, O. G. Long, 6. G. McMurtrie, H. B. Owen. A. J. Richards, D. J. Richards, E. A. T. Roberts, D. E. Rowlands, J. D. Thomas, N. H. Thomas. D. A. Williams, and S. B. Williams. GIRLS. HOWELL'S COUNTY SCHOOL, Glamorganshire.—M. A. Baker, M. G. W. Evans, M. E. Hogan, M. F. G. Hogan, M. E. James, C. E. M. Jenner, G. M. Luscombe. and R. M. Pritchard. REDLANDS HIGH SCHOOL, Bristol.—M. H. Cowlin, M. D. Freeman, M. A. F. Hamwill, E. A. Keen, J. E. Keen. E. D. Ovenden, E. M. C. Prideaus, L. B. V. Snook, and L. M. Tucker. LOWER CERTIFICATES—BOYS. CHRIST'S COLLEGE, Brecon.—e. M. Drower, S. B. Goldsmith, D. J. Jones. P. Meuneer, J. L. Phillips, J. D, Sladden, C. P. Turner, D. H. Williams, I). L. William^, and H, H. Yule. LLANDOVERY COLLKQE.—W. O. CarterLJ. O. Crocker, ,2vDaI?e?V H. K. Davies. J. A. Davies, J. O. Griffiths, E. Hicks, L. R. Lewis, B. F. McMurtrie. A. R. Morgan, H. H. Nash. R. H. Parry. J. L. Phillips, A. Roberts, H. W. Seymour, W. R. s. Watkins, and R. A. Williams. GIRLS. HOWELL'S COUNTY SCHOOL, Glamorganshire—A. B. Baker, D. E. L. Bajrtis, C. E. Browne, M. A. Charley, «• A-David, h. M Dudley; G. E. Harre, K. M. Hyam, Symns, and B. V. Thomas.
SACRILEGE AT CARDIFF. --
SACRILEGE AT CARDIFF. 011 Saturday evening Hannah-sbreeb Ooneregt*- tional Chapel, Cardiff, was broken into, and a small sum of money was stolen from it. The depredators seem to have climbed over a board- ing, 12 feet high, at the side of the build- ine, and entered by an open class-room- window. Several doors were forced open, and the collection-boxes, which contained about £2, were rifled. Evidently the thieves had been scared while at work, for the contents of a box in the lobby were left, although the box had been broken open. The Communion plate was also left untouched. This points to therobbers being amateurs. Mr John Mabthews. Mr R. Rhedynog Price, Mr Dan Davies. Mr Evan Owen, J.P. Rev. Prinoipal Edwards, B,A. MrR. E. James. The great festival of congregational music, which was held on Monday at the Rosebery Hall, Cardiff, by the Welsh Baptists of East Glamorgan and Monmouth, was in every sense a unique and inspiring gathering, and furnished one more example of the passionate love of the people of Wales for music and all that pertains to the art. The eisteddfod has long held the premier position in popular estimation; but the wonderful revival witnessed in Wales of recent years in connection with the music of the sanctuary has led to the establishment of annual festivals of congregational music in almost every district of the Principality, and this festival, known and revered as Y Gymanfa Ganu, bids fair in course of time to rival in popularity the eisteddfod itself. Time was when congrega- tional singing in Wales was in a deplorable condition, but with the advent of Ieuan Gwyllb, Tanymarian, Jones of Rutbin, and others whose memories will long survive, a radical revolution was brought about, and to-day in Wales the music of the sanctuary has attained a perfection which could not have been dreamt of fifty or sixty years ago. Iu North Wales the Congrega- tionalIsts have for some years aimed at greab things in the matter of public rehearsals, and the monstre festival of the whole churches of the county, initiated some years ago at the Carnarvon Pavilion, by Tanymarian, has oftentimes been repeated with signal success. In South Wales the honour of initiating a like movement rests with the Welsh Baptists; and well it should do, for are not these industrial dis- tricts the very stronghold of that denomination ? So numerous are the Welsh Baptists in Glamor- ganshire and Monmouthshire that the holding of these monstre festivals in any part ot these counties is to them a comparatively easy task to achieve. There was, however, no little risk attached to the realisation of the admirable idea conceived in 1893 to bold in the eisteddfod pavilion of Pontypridd a musical festival in which the choristers should be drawn from every Welsh church in East Glamorgan. With a strong and energetic committee at the helm, and Mr E. Owen, J.P of Caidift, in command as secretary, all dangers were, however, successfully averted, and the Pontypridd Festival, held in a building providing accommodation for 20,000 people, attained a marvellous measure of success, to eclipse which, it was felt, would be next to im. possible. Be that as it may, when the suggestion was thrown out some months ago that advantage should be taken of the existence of the Rosebery Hall at Cardiff to repeat tbe experi- ment, the churches took the matter up with enthusiasm and delight. It was resolved, how- ever, to extend the scope of the festival by the inclusion of Monmouthshire. A strong and representative committee was appointed, of which Mr Morgan Llowellyn, Treherbert, was chair. man Mr Thomas Evans, Temple of Fashion, Pontypridd, and Mr John Llewellyn, Bargoed, were treasurers; and Mr John Matthews, 12, Moira-place, Cardiff, and Mr R. Edwards-James, Working-street, Cardiff, were secretaries; and with the valuable assistance of Mr Evan Owen, J.P., of Cardiff, in the capacity of hon. secretary, this committee set to work with indomitable perseverance, and no better testimony to the efficiency and completeness of their arrangements could possibly be produced than the fact that the festival on Monday was in every sense of the term a magnificent success. The responsibility resting upon the committee was immense, involving as it did the gathering of 12,000 and more people from almost every part of two of the most populous counties of Wales, and yet not a single hitoh occurred to mar the sucoess of the day. The statistical returns show that in East Glamorgan alone the Welsh Baptists have no fewer than 106 chuches, com- prising a membership of close upon 19.201. This, of course, does not include the number of ad. herents who are not members. The figures for Momnouthshire are not at hand. The Rev. J. P. Davies, of Caerphilly, in an admirable paper read by him before the Baptist Union at Morriston last year, estimates the total number of members throughout Wales to be 100,999. Monday happily turned out in "point of weather one, of the finest witnessed for many weeks. The day was also the colliers' monthly Holiday, and consequently the festival was held under circumstances of the most auspicious description. To cope with the extraordinary large traffic, a large number of specials," in addition to the usual ordinary service of trains, were run both by the Taff and the Rhymney Companies, and the streets of Cardiff, even at an early hour, were literally thronged with visitors. Rosebery Hall provides sitting accom- modation for 10,000 people, and yet on Monday it proved utterly inadequate to meet the exigencies of the occasion, and thousands of persons were compelled, perforce, to enjoy the pro- ceedings from the market area without. Ab 10.30, when the first meeting was held, every seat, so far as could be seen from the platform, was occupied, and the view which presented itself to the favoured occupants of platform seats was truly inspiring. The singers for the most part were the hardy toilers of the mines, men and women to whom a day's holiday is a rarity; and as Mr Clifford Cory subsequently pointed out, such a gathering of people-ten thousand in number-devobing a whole holiday to the worship of music, and that the music of the sanctuary would of a surety be impossible in any part of the kingdom outside the land of Wales. A glance at the audience sufficed to reveal its representa- tive characber. The Legislature was represented by Colonel E. S. Hill, M P., and Mr Alfred Thomas, M.P.; capital, by Mr John Cory, Mr C!ifford Cory, Mr Jacob Ray, Mr Gibbon, Mr Henry Abraham, Mr D. Ellis, and other equally well-known captains of industry; labour, by such loaders as Mr Lewis Miles and Mr Thomas Davies; while tradesmen and miners were* present in their thousands. The platform was reserved for ministers of the Gospel, the offioials, and prominent members of the denomination and their friends. The space generally allotted to Pressmen was utilised as the orohestra; sopranos and basses were accommo- dated to the right and left of the conductor in the "well"and the gallery beyond; while the altos filled the gallery on the left, and the tenors occupied a corresponding position on the right. Beyond the "basses" considerable space had been railed off for the accommodation of the public. The conductor's box consisted of a raised dais a few yards in front of the platform. According to figures supplied by Mr Secretary Matthews, the sopranos numbered 2,800; altos, 1,200 tenors, 2,000 and bass, 2,000. The arduous and responsible task of conducting this vast choir fell upon Mr Dan Davies, the celebrated choral leader of Merbhyr, and right worthily did he acquit himself. As showing the estimation in which Me Davies is held in his denomination, it is interesting to note that bis selection was the resulb of a ballot taken in each of the churches of the district, and we have reason to believe that his election was secured by an overwhelming majority. Mr Davies, though only 35 years of age, has accomplished marvellous things in the world of music. His numeraus successes with the Dowlais Choir are sufficiently familiar. It seems but yesterday since be formed the Merthyr Choral Society, and yet under his baton that organisation has carried off a prize of B100 in each of the competitions it entered, while at Llanelly National Eisteddfod last month it divided chief honours with the Rhymney Choir. Mr D. Bowen, J.P., of Abercarn, a versatile musician, who has done eminent service for his country, was the morning president. Among those supporting him on the platform were the Revs. Principal Edwards, D.D., Cardiff; Dr. Williams, Swansea W. Jones, Treharris W. Griffiths, Black Mill; T. P. Johns, Barry Dock T. Davies, Abercarn O. Waldo James, Blaen- clydach C. Rees, Tongwynlais R. A. James, Tongwynlais; B. Davies. Dowlais; W. A. Williams, Ferry aide M. Isaac, Cadoxton T. Bowen, Abergavenny R. Lloyd, Castletown i W. Harris, Aberdare; T. Evans, Cardiff; W. Saunders, Rhymney T. W. Medhurst, Cardiff R. Evans. Hengoed T. T. Hughes, Mountain Ash; H. Jenkins, Merthyr; D. Jones, India; O. Davies, Llantwib Major; J. M. Jones, Newbridge T. Humphreys, Ferndale; E. George, Bargoed E. O. Parry, Wattstown W. S. Owen, Troedyrhiw W. Morris, F.R.G.S., Treorky; Professor John Davies, Cardiff; T. Humphreys, Cwmaman J. p. Davies. Caer. philly John Pugh (C.M.), Cardiff; J. F. Williams, Aberdare Junction J. Griffiths, Aberdare T. Lewis, Newport; R. E. Williams! Aberdare W. Morton. Cwmfelin T. Richards, Nelson; C. Davies, Cardiff; John Cardiff; T. T..Tones, Cardiff; R. S. Robert?, Cardiff; C. H. Watkins, Cardiff; C. Griffiths, Cardiff; D. Collier, Hirwain D. Davies, Lisvane J. W. Williams, Maesteg; D. Thomas, Abergwynfi W. Harries, Maesteg J. Williams, Ynysybwl; E. Hopkins, Ashton-under-Lyne T. A. Thomas, Abercarn E, E. Proberb, Ponty. pridd J. R. Jones, Pontypridd and others. A novel and pleasing feature of the festival was the provimoB of an orchestra of 60 performers, under the leadership of Mr Alfred C. Tooue, of Cardiff. It has long been a matter of complaint by eisteddfodic adjudicators that Welshmen neglected instrumental music, and therefore it is all the more gratifying to note that, with one or two exceptions, the orchestra on this occasion consisted entirely of amateurs. The nucleus was famished by the Cardiff Y.M.C.A. orchestra, and they were admirably reinforced by per- formers of both sexes, drawn from among the members of the churches themselves. Having regard to this, and also to the fact that the massed band had had no opportunity for a pre- liminary rehearsal, their performance was in alf respects distinctly creditable, and Mr Toone was deservedly congratulated. The aocompanists on the pianofortes and organs were Mr Dan S. Evans, Ion, Penbre Mr Arthur James, Cardiff; and Mr Isaac Bowen, Nebo, Ystrad. During the day the proceedings were interspersed with solos, and the services in this capacity of Miss Ceinwen Jones. R.A.M., London; Miss Eleanor Jones, Cardiff Mr John Thomas, Newbridge, Mon. and Mr Evan Thomas. Treorky, met with hearty and generous recognition at the hands of the audience. Mr D. BOWKN, in the course of his presidential address at the morning meeting, passed under review the present state of congregational singing in Wales, declaring that as regards conductors they were in a better position to-day than they bad ever been, and as Baptists they could in this respect lay claim to be second to none, in proof of which he referred to the success at the Llanelly eisteddfod of Mr Dan Davies and Mr Wm. Thomas, of Treorky. (Cheers). Owing to the great progress of the tonic sol-fa system, the majority of the members of their choirs were now able to read congregational tunes fairly well. As to hymns, so long as the productions of Williams, Pantycelyn, and Ann Griffiths were availahle, Wales would compare favourably with their English friends. Every denomination in Wales was now plentifully supplied with tune- books. He strongly urged Congregational choirs to combine to study and to improve the music of the sanctuary, and he appealed to ministers and others to assist and encourage the choristers in their efforts. (Cheers.) The Mayor of CARDIFF (Alderman Carey), who was enthusiastically greeted, spoke words of welcome to the choirs upon their visib to Cardiff, and declared himself to be in full sympathy with the national aspirations of the people of Wales. Cardiff was doubtless a cosmopolitan town, but the civic body had never been1 behindhand in encouraging all movements which have the well-being of Wales as their object—(cheers)—and he hoped that that great gathering would prove an inducement to the town of Cardiff to provide a permanent building of the size of the one they were then assembled in, so that festivals of that description could be often repeated. He was deeply indebted to the committee for the invitation which had enabled him to listen to the glorious and beautiful music they had rendered that morning, and which proved to him beyond doubt that Wales was, indeed, bhe land of song. (Cheers.) The festival programme consisbed of an excel- lenb selection of hymn tuues, chants, and anthems. These were all sung to Welsh words, bub with admirable forethought for the con- venience of English-speaking visitors, the Rev. Dr. Edwards, principal of the Cardiff Baptist College. ha.d clothed the Welsh hymns in English dress. The translations without exception were rendered with a master hand, and the rev. gentleman was repeatedly congratulated during the day upon the successful accomplishment of 501 difficult a task. The morning programme in- cluded such favourite hymn tunes as Y Delyn Aur," "Creation," "Hyfrydol," "Crugybar,"and Lausanne," which were sung with that fervour and elecbric thrill so characteristic of Welsh singing. In many cases the refrains were re- peated many times over with marvellous effect, and, during the afternoon especially, the hwyl" was catching. Fe Aned y Messiah Mawr," composed by the late Mr R. Lewis (Eos Ebrill), Cardiff, and Mr W. T. Samuel's Carbref Can yw'r Nefoed" were also excellently rendered. The anthem was Mr R. Rbedynog Price's "There speeds from distant lands," the English words of which are from the pen of Principal Edwards. The anthem was specially selected by the committee out of a larpe number submitted for their consideration, and their selection was fully endorsed by the vociferous applause which followed its rendering. Mr Rhedynog Price, the gifted composer, is a Cardiff resident and a native of Penllyne, nearCowbridge, who, from his childhood, basbeon associated with Congregational singing. He has acted as conductor for over 20 years, and to-day he is one of the most popular anthem composers within the Baptist denomination, some of his productions having attained a circulation reaching their fifteenth thousand. Principal EDWARDS, who presided over the afternoon gathering, referred to the progress of the music of the sanctuary, and urged that greater prominence be given in their services to chants, so as to enable the congregations to utilise the Psalms more largely. Another 1 suggestion thrown out by the president was that I a Welsh Baptist Choral Union be formed for i Wales, and the holding of trenuial festivals. I During the afternoon, Mr Clifford Cory also delivered a short address. Mr Rhedyuog's Price's anthem was „ repeated, aa also was the Hallelujah Chorus (Handel), the rendering of which by 10,000 voices was one of the most thrilling events of the day. Bendigedig fyddo Arglwydd Dduw Izrael," an anthem by Mr John Thomas, of Llanwrtyd, was also finely rendered. i At the special requesb of Mr Alfred « Thomas, M.P., the vast choir again sang the beautiful hymn-tune Lausanne," and the tender pathos of the hymn, which is inseparably associated in the Welsh mind with the passage from life to death of loving friends, brought tears j to the eyes of many thousands in that huge ball. ( Sandon," "Prydian," and "Aberystwyth" were included in the afternoon programme, other I special selections including Cyfod, ymddisg- i leiria" (Mr B. Parry, Swansea), Can y Milwr (MoGronahan), Ty fy Nhad (a Welsh adapta- ( tion of Woodbury's My Father's house on < high"), and" Mawl-gan" (Mr J. H. Roberts, Mus. Bac.). The festival proved as enjoyable as it was successful, the only drawback, perhaps, being the fact that the* acoustic properties of Rosebery Hall were not altogether suitable for such a purpose, the roof being honeycombed with rafters, which are not at a very greab height above the audience. In this respect the Pontypridd Pavilion was far superior. We were assured by Mr Dan Davies, however, that the intonation of the choirs was perfect, and the genial conductor was delighted with the day's performances.
ANCIENT BAPTIST CHURCH.
ANCIENT BAPTIST CHURCH. A Recerd of 2,799 Sermons. The old Baptist Church at Caerleon-upon-Usk has been renovated and modernised lately, and on Sunday there were reopening services, at which the popular pastor, the Rev. D. Bevan Jones, in the course of his sermons, stated that he had been with them, trying to minister in all that con- cerned their spiritual needs, for 29% years, during which he had preached to them no fewer than 2,799 times. The church is one of the oldest in Monmouthshire, the first building being erected in 1764, and the first pastor was the Rev. Thomas Phillips, who after six years' work went to Swansea. On the occasion of the present pastor's silver wedding, in 1891, Mr and Mrs Jones were the recipients of a presentation, which took the agreeable form of all annuity of j360. Mr Jones has been active in outside work, and has been secretary for 21 1. years to the English Baptist Association, a member of the Baptist Council, and secretary for 16 years to the Pontypool Baptist College. HIS latest office is that of Poor Law Guardian for the 1 Caerleon district. I The interior of the building has been completely transformed at an outlay of £300, and is quite up » to the modem standard. Four new windows 8 have been added on the roadside, which gives more light and effect to thejchapel. The front 1 and north end galleries have been removed, and I the organ gallery extended, making tbeti lilding I uniform. The rosbrum has been placed on the I north end. Thepews are new, and the worship. f pers will find them far more comfortable than the old ones. The front of the gallery is very pretty, the ironwork being bronzed thus relieving the match-boarding dado work. The walls are stuccoed, aud the whole of the work which has been carried out so successfully was entrusted to Mr G. Beacham, of Caerleon
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'" . BEDWELLTY AGRICULTURAL…
BEDWELLTY AGRICULTURAL SOCIETY. On Monday the annual show of horses, cftttl** sheep. dairy produce, &c., under the auspices of the Bedwelitoy Agricultural Society, was held all Blackwood on two spacious fields of Berllanlwyd Farm (kindly granted for the occasion by Mt John Lewis). The society, which has been ID existence for many years, is one of the most important in the South Wales and wesberc district, and covers a very wide area, namely. Bedwellty, Mynyddislwyn, Bed was, Llanhilletb, Aberystruth. Trevethm, Panteg, Risoa, Machen, Henllys, Rogerstone. Gelligaer, Llanfabon, Eglwysilian, Merthyr, Vaynor, and the portions of the parishes of Llangynider and Llangattock situated within the watershed district of Rhymney, Nantybwch, Beaufort, and Bryn. mawr. Blackwood is the most im- portant agricultural centre of the disbriot, and, as might be expected, the display this year far exceeds that at Risca in 1894, the enbry being 860 as against 720. Prize money to the amount) of jBSSO was awarded. The general quality in every department was high, especially in the horse and cattle sections, in which also tbe increase in the number of entries was to be found, and, indeed, this has been a record year in the annals of the society. Among the principal exhibits ab this show were Messrs Buohan and Co., Rhymney the Rhymney Iron Company Mr Johu Lewis, Penrhiw Mrs Lewis, Llwyn- gollen, Gelligaer Mr Thomas Edmunds, Groes. van, Bargoed Mr R. Jeremiah, Blackwood; the Ebbw Vale Company, the Tredegar Iron Company; Mr R. J. Matthias, Garthfawr, Pontypridd Messrs Edward Nicholas and Son, Aberbeeg Mr Pond, Blackwood Messrs Lan. caster and Co., Blaina and Mr J. Harris, Argoed, The stock and other exhibits were conveniently arranged on the fields mentioned, and all the arrangements carried out by the committee and secretaries were ample and effective. The president of the society is Mr Graeme Ogilvie, who was present all day; and the officers of bhe committee are Dr. J. W. James, J.P., trustee; Mr E. R. Lewis, treasurer Mr Edward Row. lands, hon. sec Mr E. Edmunds, Blackwoodf ohatrman; Mr John Lswis, Penrhiw, vice- chairman and Mr Thomas Hopkins and Mr R. Jeremiah, joint secretaries. To these gentleman and the Executive Committee the success of the show is in a great measure due, not only for their efforts on Monday, but in the preliminary work of organisation The Executive Committee consists oj Dr. H. T. Evans, Blackwood Messrs Wm, Griffiths, New- port Richard Morris, merchant, Blackwood; D. F. Pritchard, Glanyrafon, Rhymney W. R. Lewis, Glanyrafon House, Pengam Wm. Pritchard, Rhymney C. Pond, Blackwood B. Nicholas, Arel Farm, Aberbeeg; Jehoiada Jones, Manmoel W. Walters, Woodfield Farm, Black- wood Daniel Harry, Bedwellty, Blackwood I Lewis Jones, draper, Blackwood; Morgan Thomas, Bedwellty; John Green, Pentwyn, Blackwood; A. J. Harries, Argoed Farm, Argoed; Thomas Jones, Plas Farm, Blackwood; and W. L. Griffiths, High-street. Newport. The judges were: For horses—Messrs Thomas Jenkins, Pantyagal- log, Dowiais; J. H. Hillier, Stud Farm, Coed. kemew J. Rogers, Alltyrynys, Abergavenny W. Emerson, Sweldon Farm, Cardiff; J. Temple, Aberaman. Cattle, sheep, and pigs—Measrv Thomas George, The Deri, Whitchurch, Cardiff s W. Williams, The Splott, Cardiff; Thomafc Williams, Pengam Farm, Cardiff. Dogs—Mesert E. Parry Thomas, Pontypridd Thomas Roberta^ Great Oak House, Tydu. Poultry—Mr Edmund Gibbs, Saintwell, near Cardiff. Daily product —Miss Madge Kellett, Newport. Vegetables. &c. — Mr W. J. Grant, Bassalleg, Mon, Implements—Mr A. E. Frost, Newport, Mon, Shoeing—Messrs D. M. Storrar, F.R.C.V.S., Abergavenny Thomas Evans, Shmgrig, Tre. harris, R.S.O. Timbering—Messrs Moses Frame, Abernant Colliery; Wm. Grier, Llanbradaoh Colliery, hlanbradach. Splicing — Mr Wm. James, Newbridge, Mon. During the day the show ground was visited by a large numbec of people from the surrounding country* side, amongst those being the president Captain H. A. Birrell, J.P., Maesyowmmer; Mr W. H. Routledge, Tredegar; Dr. R. T. Z. Davies, New Tredegar; vice-presidents, membert; ot. the executive and the officers, and the principal agriculturists in the neighbourhood. The Black* wood Reed and Brass Band, under the leadership, of Mr J. Jeffreys, discoursed selections of mow! All intervals during tbe day.
■—————' FRIENDLY SOCIETY'S…
■—————' FRIENDLY SOCIETY'S JUBILEE AT NEWPORT. The Newport district of Oddfellows, Man- chester Unity, celebrated their jubilee on Monday at Newport. The proceedings included a procession of members in fall regalia and a dinner, the latter being held in the Drill Hall, Stow Hill. The procession war marshalled in the Cattle Market shortly after 1 o clock, and perambulated the town. The band of the Monmouthshire Artillery V olunteerf; headed the procession, and the bands of the 4th South Wales Borderers, the Post Office, and the Caerleon Schools kept up the strains of murtiti music throughout its entire length. One feature was the presence in a foremost carriage of the veteran form of Dr. W. W. Morgan, J.P., the founder of the district, and the first Noble Grand of the Treftith Castle Lodge, the pioneer lodge t> £ Newport Oddfellowship. A notion of the pro- gress and flourishing condition of the district may be gathered from the fact that there are now IS lodges with a membership of between 3,000 and 4,000. The other notable feature of the procession was the juvenile lodge, founded three or four years ago by Bro. Charles Pearce, of Newport. The visibors included the Grand Master of the Unity (Bro. William Orford White, of IpswicbL the Provincial Grand Master (Bro. Payne), and Bro. Thomas Adams, the C.S. of the Bristol district. Past Grand Master Graham, of Burton- on-Trenb, wrote his apologies for having mistaken Newport, Salop, for tho "only Newport" and for his non-abtendance. In the evening a public meeting was held in the Drill Hall, presided over by the Mayor (Alder- man Sanders), who was supported by the Grand Master, the Deputy Grand Master, Mr Spicer, M.P., Alderman Jones, Councillors Wheeler and W. H. Brown, Rev. Ehvyn Thomas, Mr W" Watkins, etc. There was a good attendance^ His Worship introduced the business, and referred to the last 50 years as a time of increased corn" merce, of advance in social life, and of achieve tnenbs in the various branches of industry aDei. scientific research. Mr SPIOEB, M.P., spoke on old age pensions and thrift. He said he looked with hope and confidence bo the time when the great Friendly Societies* through their increased work and the oppor* tunities given to all classes of thrift, would tw a.ble to deal effectually with the necessities ot the aged poor of our country. (Applause.) The GRAND MASTER (Mr Orford White) afea addressed the meeting. Bro. W. H. Witts, P.P.G.M., one of tbe veterans of the Newport district, then presented tn illuminated address to the Grand Master on the occasion of his visit, and in connection witb the celebration of the jubilee.—The Grand Master thanked Mr Witts and the members generally for the address, which was placed earlier in the proceedings in front of the platform, ind formed a handsome object.
.-------------HHONDDA GLEE…
HHONDDA GLEE SOCIETY AT LANGLAND. In response to an invitation of Mr W. H, Davies, of Brynfedwen, Treherbert, Mr Tom Stephens and about 15 members of his celebrated 3hoir, the Rhondda Glee Society, on Friday visited Langland Bay, where they were most iiospitablv entertained by their generous host. Mr W. H. Davies, it appears, is spending t lioliday in the neighbourhood, and during the week the guests discussed the respective merits of Welsh and Enghsh in the matter of choral rendering. It was to give his tellow guests a taste of what Welsh choral singing was like that the Squire of Brynfedwyn at onoe jommunicated with Mr Torn Stephens and got she choir down at his own expense. A long pro. gramme of glees and other musical compositions was submitted.
STRONG CONDEMNATION OF SWANSEA…
STRONG CONDEMNATION OF SWANSEA SANITATION. I" ■?n interview wibh a representative oi iJ u coatem,P°rary> Dr T. D. Griffiths, ,he well-known physician and surgeon, has madt t strong condemnation of Swansea's sanitation, tie says he will undertake to say that th« *?ine 'louses out of every ten not yxj' n. 'asb eighb or nine years is defeo- 1S> unless the drainage has been re* iewea since the construction of the house* lot 10 per cent. of such houses would stand the imoke tesb. It is nothing short of a scandal ihab the authorities "do not exercise real supervision over the drainage of t,b( louses built. They have got the necessary powers, Mt do not exercise tliem. Good drainage is the Most important of all requirements, but here it seems to be treated as if of no important whatever.
GALLANT RESCUE,
GALLANT RESCUE, On Saturday afternoon a boy named Reyrruf Frisk. (ll). of Stuarfc-strcet, Docks, Cardiff, f61 from the Penarth Ferry iandmg stage into th* water, and was on the point of sinking when Mt Joseph Paisley, of 23. Maughan-stroet, Penarth, gallantly plunged to the rescue, and brought bllt ashore. There were 12 feet of water at tho hi mot and had ib not been for the prompt ant courageous action of Mr Paisley tlie lad wouW bare been drowned.