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............... ROADSIDE ROMANCES.
ROADSIDE ROMANCES. BY GEORGE EDGAR Suthor of "Seaside Stories." "Pagan Billy Gubbins," "Tarradiddles," "Love at the Prow," "The Mysterious Minstrel," &c. VIII.—THE SCHOOLMASTER'S STORY. This story I gleaned from Mr. Sterling, the schoolmaster at Hesselgrave. It is a tiny village, which lies deep in the Cumberland district, into which I had walked about the time of the evening meal. As luck served, I met the schoolmaster in the road as I entered the village, and, inquiring where lodging might be found for the night, was promptly offered the hospitality of the schoolhouse. Mr. Sterling was an old man, but age had left him still "strong and erect. There was a merry light in his bright eyes, a smile played round his clean-shaven mouth, and a profusion of hair, very white, crowned his fine head. I shared the evening u:eal with him in the dining-room of the quaint school- house, and after we eat out in the garden where the roses were blowing, and from our seats looked on to a lawn behind, which was walled off from the road. Something I had said about the peaceful quietness of the place set the schoolmaster in a reminiscent mood. "Yes, it is quiet," he said. "You towns- people might even call it monotonous. Things happen slowly here but they do happen, in- evitably. The problems of life and death are much the same in town or country. Perhaps the town is a little more complicated, but that is all. Men live and marry, work, quarrel, play, and die here just as they do in the city. Only the Ipefcer-on sees more of the game in a village than he does in a large town. To illustrate this, I often tell the story of Joshua Bingham's conversion." I have no taste for stories of conversion, but politeness to a kindly host bade me prompt him to his story. Perhaps some note in my voice warned Sterling of my attitude. No, it is not a conventional conversion story," be began. You need not feel alarmed. It simply ishews how things happen here inevitably as they do elsewhere. It took just fifteen years to mature, but the climax was as conclusive as anything that ever hap- pened in a city. But let me retail the events as they occurred. The worst boy I had in the school, thirty years ago, was Robert Jones. You have perhaps noticed that the boys who give the most trouble, get in the most scrapes and need punishing oftenest, arc the boys that are best liked. It usually means that the graceless scamps have enough high- ispirited originality to make themselves inter- esting. Bobbie was a boy of average intelligence, hut there was nothing of the student about him. I know he preferred fishing, and fished very often when he should be at school. Also he went swimming at illegal hours, smoked cigarettes very early in life, and was the ring- leader in the riotous horseplay of the school- yard. Very rarely could I get his attention fixed on lessons, unless it was history with plenty of battles on sea or land in the section to be learnt. Things went very well with Bobbie, the only son of a widow in a prosperous way of business, until his mother committed the in- discretion of marrying Bingham. That it was an indiscretion everyone knew except the widow at the time, and she realised it very Boon after. Bingham was the toughest lot of humanity in the district, concerned with the management of the coaching stables at the hotel. Whether Mm. Jones loved him, had .some notion of reforming him, or was un- aware of his real character I do not know; but she became Mrs. Bingham, and regretted it immediately afterwards. For Joshua, hav- ing married a business woman, ceased to work, and went, if anything, quicker to the dogs than before. It was not long before rumour began to whisper 6tories of cruel usage on the part of the husband, and rumour for once did not lie. What I noticed chiefly was the change in Bobbie, my favcu" 7 From a frank, bold :w. .errv youn-,rter he turned i ti iurtive and somewhat silent lad. Ete seemed happier at school, coming early to play and going away later, long after the boys had been dismissed. He did not seem to have the high-spirited recklessness of earlier days, and was much more amenable. One Saturday I was going along the lane leading to the river, bent on trout-fishing. It was eleven o'clock and a fine morning B.6 I started out. I had not gone more than a quarter of a mile when, lying on the grass at the roadside, I found Bob, face downwards, crying silently and sobbing bitterly. 'Now, Jones,' I said, 'what's the mean- ing of this? You don't usually cry on holi- days.' He looked up, and as he turned his face I noticed a livid black ring round his eye. 'Fighting,' I suggested, succinctly. 'But that's no reason for grief. If you fight you ought to take all that comes along.' He got up as if he had been galvanised, scrubbed at his eyes, drove the tears away de- fiantly, and looked at me. I wasn't blubbering about that,' he said. When did it happen T' I asked. Last night,' Bob answered. Well, that means time enough for yon to have forgotten it by now. Who was the ft her party?' A man—a big bully.' Come, come, Jones, boys do not fight .en.' I did,' he said, bluntly that's why I'm blubbering. I couldn't lick him—see?' But a man, Bobbie?' Yes—my father, the man who calls him- self my father. He came home and hit mother, so I shied a plate at him. Then he beat me and I bit his finger, and then he punched me as if he were mad. That's when I got the eye.' I felt sorry for the d, and took him fish- ing. We had a glorious day together, made a fine catch, and came home about six. I in- vited my pupil in to tea, and stuffed him with sach food as I could command. Being a boy, aDd healthy at that, he did ample justice to it. Suddenly I saw his jaw drop. Now, Bobbie,' I said, 'what is wrong?' I followed the direction of his eyes and noticed they rested on a photo of myself in boxing attitude—a memento of the days when 1 was one of the beet amateurs in Liverpool. The belt on the table near my figure in the photo was won in open competition in that city. Can you fight? he said, with awe, en- tirely forgetting his food. 'There was, a time when I could box,' I anggested, mildly. Do you think you could thrash Bing- ham ? he asked. No,' I said. I dare not interfere.' But could you thrash him if you dared? he asked, eagerly. That was touching one of my weaknesses. I'm getting old, Bobbie,' I said, but— —yes, I think I could just manage Bing- ham.' Something was passing through the boy's mind. At last he said 0 Could you teach a man how to fight?' I nodded. If he had pluck I could teach him a great deal.' Ie He rubbed his chin with embarrassment. Look here, teacher,' he said at length, if I never play hookey again will you teach me how to fight-properly? It was a delicate proposition, but I thought no harm could be done by giving the lad a few lessons in the alleged 'noble art,' aDd we made the compact. I I will do Bobbie this credit. He became the model boy in the school. His attendance WM punctual and regular, he worked harder, and gave me less trouble. He was then a stordy boy of twelve, and three years later, when his school period was over, I was able to pass him out with as clean a certificate of character as I have been able to give any boy. And from the time we made the compact, almost weekly I gave Bobbie lessons. I think he was more apt as a boxer than as a IChoIar. I taught him how to stand up, how to watch his opponent's eyes, how to guard, how to lead with a straight right, and when to put in his left. I also taught him to keep his temper, and it was understood that the booing lessons were to be cut off the day he foaglit any boy in the school. After he left school he still came for his jraekly lesson. By now he was growing into
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"HUMORS OF HISTORY." ... ,…
"HUMORS OF HISTORY." i I THE UNDOING OF THE BARONS, A.D. 1155. Henry II. began his reign by curtailing the power of the barons. He caused nearly 1500 of their castles to be dismant'ed. The New History of England." This serie3 of 160 pictures, entitled Humors of History," appearing weekly in this journal, 13 now being reproduce! in colour on plate paper, cloth bound, gilt, at 2/6 nett, and will be publishod 111 September, £ 2,000 having boon spent in it3production by tbi3 .Morning •Lea.dQr," .London. Specimen Colored Plate on application.. DYDDIAU TYWYLL Y BARWNIAID, A.D. 1155. Dechreuodd Harry II. ei deyrnasiad drwy gwtogi gaUu y barwniaid. Parodd i agos 1500 o'u cestyll gael eu dwyn yn adfail."
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MY VERY REAL BABY. :
MY VERY REAL BABY. Before I was married, which event happened about two years ago, I was a person of diplomas and certificates. I went through my three years' cours-j at a large London hospital, I obtained my Centr-xl Miiwives Board Certificate, and finally keeame a sanitary inspectress and health lec- tuier for various urban councils. My principal duties were to locturo to mothers eni the feeding and management of their babies and children, to visit them in their homes, and instil more health precepts into their rather vacant minds. How I did lecture these poor women! And how they used to g\ze open-mouthed at me, in either horror or admiration. I was never sure which. I married a young struggling doctor, with an exceedingly limited income, and very happily we were, until, in due course, I became the proud mother of a remarkably small baby girl. Before she was born my friends and relatives used to say, "You wait until the baby arrives, it will upset all your neat, old-maidish ways for you, finely!" I smiled disdainfully at them, for who should know how to manage a baby better than I did? I decided to allow my small domestic to con- tinue to do the house-work, and I would look after baby entirely myself "A well-managed child is no trouble," I said. "Babies do not cry and be a nuisance unless c they are neglected and uncared for." Of course, I had decided to feed baby on nature's plan, but soon found that a physical impossibility, and with a sigh had to resort to a feeding-bottle of the most hygienic pattern. The child went on fairly well until she was a month old, then my troubles began. Instead of growing she appeared to decrease daily; she sobbed and screamed almost incessantly day and night. I was nearly driven distracted. I tried her on humanised milk, sterilised milk, milk from one cow, milk with one-third water, milk with half water, milk and water and cream, pasteurised milk, every possible thing I could think of, but of no avail. Baby rejected them all in the most evident and primitive manner, and dail" she got smaller and screamed more loudly. 1 wis at my wits' end, it seemed so dreadful that I, who had directed countless mothers how to feed and bring up multitudes of infants, could not mr.na^e one little one of my cwn. The dark thought came to me—what if the mothers ever found it out! What derision, what contempt would they pour upon me! In rry despair I appealed to Gecrge, my husband, and asked his advice. "To tell you tha truth, my dear, I know very little about babies," he replied. "Of course, I c&n give the mothers on my rounds plenty of theoretically beautiful advice, but I fear theory is not of much use here. Try her with one of those sucking comforters I have heard you de- claim against so often." I gazed at him scorn- fully, but was to) upset to reply. There are moments when I think George extremely silly, this was one of them. I b-,gan to remember with tolerance some of the mothers with large families, who had all the housework and all the washing, and all the Ipoking after of the other children to do, be- sides the one fretfully screaming infant. I even thought if I were in their place I too should use feeding-bottles with long, long tubes, and give the baby dirty dummy comforters and bits of bread and butter, and lumps of sugar, and any- thing that was going, to keep it quiet. At this desperate juncture my mother came to stay with me. She is a placid, timid woman, with a soothing manner. Baby seemed to take to her, and was quieter when she held her than at any time. I told mother of the various things I had tried for baby, and of the want of success thereof, and she said, "Of course, Mabel dear, I don't want to interfere, but I brought you all up, and ten of you, as you know there were, on ——— 'Food for Babes.' It is old-fashioned now, and I only know of one shop where it can be got But, of course, dear, I know you would never consent to use a patent food." "Don't breathe a word to George or any other soul," I cried, and there and then I sat down and wrote for a tin of 'Food for Babes.' From the very first feed of it that baby of mine began to improve, and got on so well and quick- ly that it was a wonder and a marvel to every- one. Mother never gave me away, and I should never have been found out if George had not come into the kitchen one day in his felt slippers, and standing behind me, watched me make the food. How are the mighty fallen!" was the only remark he made as he put his arm round my neck and kis3ed me. He never said any more about it, and there are times when I think George one of the wisest and most tactful of men. In conclusion my advice to health teachers is to run a baby of your own before lecturing about babies in general. ("The Nursing Mirror.")
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THE EQUIPMENT OF SMALL HOLDINGS.,'"
THE EQUIPMENT OF SMALL HOLDINGS. BY W. J. MALDEN. 0 Small holdings are generally accepted as those which are under fifty acres, but acre- age does not measure them entirely, because where expensive, intensive cropping is taken the outlay and return of a single acre may exceed those of several acres under ordinary cropping. It is quite safe to say that there are many farms where ten acres realise as much as fifty in other conditions, but the capital required per acre is very much greater, and the labour bill is proportionate- ly heavy. The skill in the one case is also necessarily much greater than in the other. Small holdings may be divided into those in which horse labour is employed, and where it is not. Broadly speaking, where only ordi- nary farm crops are taken, it is a waste of effort to rely on the spade, though spade work is beneficially expended upon the bet- ter grade crops. On very small areas a horse is too expensive to pay for the work done, unless the horse can be hired out at spare times to earn part of its keep, but this does not necessarily follow. The great draw- back to small holdings is that they afford so little remunerative employment during the winter months, and at that season, especial- ly in bad weather, there is not much chance work obtained. It is for this reason that small holdings are often so much more re- munerative when they are associated with some other business, such as hawker, publi- can, dealer, etc. It will be found by those who organise small holdings under large schemes involving co-operative methods that the difficulty of finding winter work will be one of the serious troubles. CHILDREN ON THE FARM. In respect to labour the small holder may have the advantage of the services of his wife and family. We are not among those who lay very great stress on this because we have seen so many cases where it has acted most cruelly on the sons kept at home. We have seen innumerable instances where it has hindered the prospects of sons of large farmers. It is not uncommon for fethers to regard their children as useful aids to the farm, whilst all the while they know that at the end the children will get very little from them meanwhile they have lost their oppor- tunities in other directions. The sons work for little more than a bare living, they have no opportunity of saving; the father will not, and often cannot, give them anythi" go to start on their own account, the consequence is they go on from year to year into middle age merely as servants of their father, wait- ing for him to die so that they may take his place, finding very often there is nothing left, or the little that is left has to be di- vided amongst a number, and that there is not sufficient to take on land enough to get a living from. The small holder cannot look for the same assistance from his children as was obtainable a generation or two ago. He has to face two facts,—that his children will have to b, kept for a longer period in the non-earning staue, and that when he gets their services they will for a time be of less value than they used to be. With special markets, already well sup- plied, it is not to special cropping that any great alteration in farming can be expected. We assert this after a wide experience in practically all special cropping, including market gardening, fruit growing, hop grow- ing, seed growing, etc. We have seen several crops practically disappear or become rela- tively insignificant. Even Jersey has lost its high profits in respect to its more important crops, because those crops can be more cheaply raised in competitive countries more favourably situ- ated. A farm of fifty acres is a large farm in miniature. It necessitates the use of horses if a considerable portion of it is under ara- ble cropping. Horses involve the need for machinery; and there is room for some live stock. The greatest difficulty in a farm of this size is to fit it out economically with adequate machinery; practically all the kinds of machines required on a large farm are needed, yet the quantity of work got out of a machine per annum is very little; con- sequently, if modern machines are used, more money is locked up than seems proportionate to the undertaking. As a rule the difficulty is met by purchasing old and inferior arti- cles, clumsy in their work, and prone to break down. In spite of the apparently heavy cost* of new machinery we strongly urge against the use of obsolete, or should-be ob- solete, machinery. MECHANICAL ASSISTANCE. Well chosen machines are bound to be far more remunerative in the end. Machinery has made great strides of late, especially in regard to haymaking and cultivating ma- chines and a man would have a very limit- ed acreage of hay or arable land, who could not make it economical to employ them. A modern springtime cultivator, with substi- tuting attachments, will do all the work of stirring fallows, horse-hoeing, laying land up into ridges for root drilling, or moulding up potatoes. A modern haymaker with ro- tary turners will make better hay than can be made by hand, and infinitely cheaper. The hay tedder and hay rake are disappear- ing into the limbo into which older machines have already passed and though not so good as the modern machine, as they may be picked up for a small sum, may be found useful to the small holder who has little to spare on machinery. A plough, set of harrows, and a roller are necessary, as is a small drill but as drills suitable for small holdings are obtainable for .£6, and as these are a type of implement that may be bought favourably second hand, the machinery equipment for working the land need not cost much. Grass and corn can be cut cheaper by machine than by hand; but this is work which can be done by hired machines in most districts now, and where this is the case it is advisable to em- ploy them, especially as horses are supplied. Except for a cart or carts there is little other expensive machinery to be bought, the threshing being done by hired sets of tackle. Such other implements and machinery as are needed will' be those required in connection with live stock and as a rule the bigger live stock does not play a great part in small holdings, except where cows are kept. If there is a dairy there must be the out- fit in accordance with the method of disposal of the milk, whether sold retail, made into butter, or into cheese. The separator has greatly reduced the outfit where butter is made but a cheese outfit can scarcely be curtailed. Beyond this there are the small tools and hand implements, which are pro- portionately of greater importance on small farms. Skill in purchasing and ingenuity in contriving arc very essential and the latter can be exercised with considerable advant- age in providing the pig and poultry outfit. INDIVIDUAL LABOUR. As before stated, the live stock rarely plays an important part on a small holding, unless it be mainly grass; and it is in work- ing the land that a greater return may be looked for. The two, however, go best to- gether. On the whole the large farmer, with adequate capital, is more favourably placed than is the small farmer as he can be bet- ter equipped, that is, can get better value out of his outlay than can the smaller far- mer; but against this the small holder who works hard has the value of his labour to spread over the farm, and therefore reduces the cost of working each acre. If he has a family which helps him he is so much the better placed, and he gains in this what he woum otherwise nave to pay lor outside lab- our. The capital required by a small holder is not less than that required per acre by a far- mer carrying on a similar type of farm on a larger scale, except that he saves his labour bill to a greater extent however, a large farmer may have sons who give him material assistance. An exception is made, of course, on a very small holding where practically everything is done by manual labour but a man's output of work is limit- ed and except under favourable conditions he will not make much more of his labour than he would were he to put in as many hours of work for others as ne does for him- self, for there is always the chance of loss of crops to be kept in view. As suggested earlier, if specially skilled in fruit growing or market gardening, his labour and skifl will fetch a better reward if soil, district, and climate are favourable but we have purposely left thia question alone, as it is work for the specially experienced, for fthi" aifects the few and not the many.
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............... ROADSIDE ROMANCES.
a strong lad, well developed; clean living, the open Air and exercise were already giving promise of a fine manhood. About twelve months after he left school he came to me early one Sunday morning. His face was badly bruised, but, worse still, white with anger. What, fighting again, Bobbie? I asked. Yesr' he said. When?' Last night, with the old opponent, Bingham. He's getting worse. He struck my mother again last night, and-well, I thought I could box, so I slipped into him with the right, just as you taught me, and knocked father spinning into the corner.' That was a, good start.' I'm afraid I could not forego a gleam of satisfaction. What happened ?' Bingham just went mad and seized the poker. You see what he did.' Bobbie pointed to his face. "'With the poker? That's not in the game, Bobbie.' N'o, sir; you are right. Now they are sending me away. Mother says it will be better for us all if I go to sea, and it's fixed up that I'm to go.' Perhaps it will be for the best,' I ad- mitted. I shall lose my pupil, though.' I'm sorry about that. sir. But I'm going to kejp that boxing up.' Two or three weeks after Bobbie went away, and for four years he passed out of my life. Beyond receiving a photo and an ac- count of a boxing competition in a seaport town, in which Jones had won, I heard little or nothing of him. Meanwhile in the Bing- ham household things were going from bad to worse. As the years went on the inevitable drama was played with increasing horror. The tale of brutality became a byword in the Tillage. The widow shewed traces of ill-usage week after week. Her savings went in keep- ing that bully Bingham in idleness. The shop was not so well kept; it began to lose ground. Where prosperity once was, poverty began to knock at the door. Time after time the woman shielded the husband from his folly; but at last his ill-treatment grew so persistent that action became necessary. The Vicar and I took the matter in hand after a particularly vicious assault, and persuaded the wife to get protection. Completely ex- hausted, she agreed, and a fortnight later we had the satisfaction of securing a separation order for her from the local Bench. That was about four years after young Jones had gone to sea. Our trouble did not end there. Bingham still hung round the village, and periodically made attempts to force his way back into a home where the only fault had been too greats consideration for himself. Mrs. Bing- ham Wught him off with money until her re- sources were exhausted, and, finally, he came once too often, made a scene outside the shop door, and was given into custody. "I had the pleasure of seeing him sent down for a month, though we had the greatest) difficulty in getting Mrs. Bingham to give evi- dence and to press for a conviction. Bingham blazed with anger when be heard the sentence. As the policemen forced him out of the court he scowled at his shrinking wife. As for you,' he said, you've put me away. You've been mighty clever, you and the schoolmeaster, but wait until I come out. I'll- mnrder the lot of you!' Before he could say another word he was hustled from the court. A quiet four weeks went by. Then, one night, as I was sitting at supper, a boy came from the village. "'Mr. Sterling,' he said, 'come at once. Bingham is out again, and Mrs. Bingham eaye she's afraid for her life.' I hastily went in the direction of her house, but the bully had already got to his work. Four weeks' confinement had given him renewed strength a day's drinking had given rein to his evil passions. "Already be stood ia the roadway, and there was the beginning of a repetition of the scene for which he was convicted. He was cursing at the top of his evil voice. 'Aye,' he said, mockingly, as I came up, there's the schoolmeaeter. You can fetch him. I don't care for ten of the likes of him. Let any man try to move me away, that's all!' He flourished a knife in his wild rage. No man wants to move you away-no man shall,' a voice said behind me, quietly. And who are you?' Bingham asked, foaming with rage. Look again,' the quiet voice said, sternly. Bob,' Bingham said, suddenly. Mrs. Bingham rushed out of the house, crying tears half of terror, half of joy. Schoolmaster,' Bob said, we will settle this matter now, once and for all.' I looked into his face and understood. Boy Bobbie was a man, tanned, straight, strong, and bright-eyed, with the buoyancy of health-a far different being from the boy who had gone away. You, Bingham,' he said, 'drop that knife Bingham swore a refusal. Bob caught him by the wrist, gave it a wrench, and the knife fell to the ground. 1 picked it up. Now, look here,' said Bob, sternly, 'it is no good having a scene here. Mother, you go indoors, and I and the schoolmaster and- er-father, will go round to Sterling's and talk the matter over.' Bingham blustered a bit and consented. Mrs. Bingham, overjoyed at the return of her boy, seemed to think all her trouble was over. Do just what you think best, Bobbie,' she said. Make any arrangement that is reasonable, but keep him away.' Silently, sullenly the three of us set off to my house. You see, behind the rose gar- den 1 have just a bit of lawn. It amused me to play a game of bowls there occasionally. Well, when we got home, Bob suggested we should go and talk the matter over in the cummer-house. I consented, with a dim idea of what would happen. It was now about ten o'clock, moonlit and qaiet. When we reached the summer-house Bingham began ciiraing the pair of us. "He struck the framework with his big hand. "'Look 'ere,l:be said, truculently, 'it doesn't need talking over for a eecosid. I wan^mjr- righto.' "Bobbie looked at him steadily. I'll see you get your rights,' he said. 'What are they? 0 The right to my home and wife.' You've lost that right,' Bob said, calmly. What elee ? That's all, and that's what I'm going to have. And I'm going to pay her and the schoolmeaeter for putting me away.' 'Why did you put him away?' Bob asked. The same story—assault and annoy- ance. He won't keep away.' So your rights are what? Bobbie asked, sternly. To live on my mother and to assault her every time you want money. Now listen to me. Look at my face, father. It is the laet time I shall call you by a name the law gave you. Look at my face The bully looked fair and 6quare into his stepson's eyes for the first time. For the first time he began to understand. Your rights once included the privilege of blacking my eye. I think I was twelve years of age. Another of your rights was to make this scar on my face. See, I carry it now. These were your rights, and you shall have them again.' Let me go; let me get out of this. I don't want to talk this matter over with a couple of fools in a moonlit garden. I'll speak to your mother, not to you two idiot6.' Mr. Sterling,' said Bob, taking no notice of his father, I ask you to see that this man gets his rights. As he has no rights in our home, I, as the eldest son, will take full responsibility for it and my mother. And I will give him just exactly the justice ho heeds. Take off your coat, Bingham.' The man's face turned pallid. Move out of the way,' he said. Bob stood his ground. Move out of the way.' Bingham raised his hand. 0 "Bob fell back with abject fright in his face. Bingham followed him. The bully triumphed, and his son's sudden fear brought out his worst features. With clenched hands he struck the youth a heavy blow in the face which cut the lips and drew a tiny stream of blood. Then the retreating Bob stood straight up and ceased to retreat. The bleeding mouth was set in a thin red line.' There was a glint in his eye cold and hard, reminding one of a wild animal, with every angry passion aroused and bent on destruction. Then and then only did Bingham quite understand, and, understanding, he looked :with eyes in which fear began to shine. I will not tell you the details. For three- quarters of an hour that little lawn was the scene of the fiercest fight I have ever wit- nessed. Bingham saw clearly what threatened -saw that he. was not fighting for the privilege to heap further trouble on thia family, but for his life. A look into Bob's face, set stern and hard, with the cold, cruel purpose shining in his eyes, was enough. There was no way out-Bingham fought. It was a varying fight for a time, and I stood and watched it impassively. It was the most brutal thing I ever saw. But there is a point where life becomes brutal and I saw it out, steeling my heart against pity. In twenty minutes Bob had whipped the man to a standstill. He lay panting on the floor. Let me get out of this,' he urged. Bob's eye, with the same fierce relentless purpose, shewed no softening. You will get up and fight,' he said. I will not,' Bingham said. Then I will thrash you with a switch from this tree within an inch of your life Bingham got up. Again another fifteen minutes. Bob thrashed the man all over the garden. It was a sight to make one shudder. Now, Bob,' I said, it has gone far enough.' It has only gone half way,' he said. Leave me to settle this. I know when to leave off.' And the fight went on. It was a fight no longer; it was simply the picture of a man terror-6truck, beaten, facing a relentless avenger. c" I cannot stand,' Bingham said, piteously. "I looked at Bob. It is quite true,' he said. 'You cannot stand. Rest awhile; there is no hurry.' "And after that rest once more he bade him stand up, and thrashed Bingham to his knees again with a fierce, wild joy. 'Have Mercy!' said the quivering Bing- ham. End it! Kill me I cannot go on.' He lay panting on the grass. Now, listen to me,' Bob said. 'I've finished. You have got your rights. The slate is clean.' The man was weakly sobbing at his feet. We do not owe you anything, but, re- member, every new debt will be paid. You can go now. I should advise you to leave the town in two days after you are better; but you can please yourself. Only bear in mind, every single minute of annoyance you give my mother will be counted, and wherever you are the debt will be promptly paid in full. You understand?' Quite,' said Bingham, and he got up and walked painfully from the lawn." And what was the result? I asked the schoolmaster, curiously. "Just good," he said. "It was the only way with Bingham. You have seen Bingham's coaches all over this district from Bingham's Hotel. They are his. He has been a different man ever since. He has prospered. For five years he kept away from his wife, and then one day he drove up in a dog-cart. He was smartly dressed, and wore a buttonhole, and looked like a man who had come a-courting. You may believe me when I say that he had. He wooed Mrs. Bingham over again. They live now at their own hotel, one of the most prosperous in the Lake District, and Bob is a full partner in the business. It was the most brutal hiding I ever saw, and it worked a miracle."