[ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.] THE DARK HOUSE BY THE POND. BY C. J. HAMILTON, Author of A Poisoned Life," Cut to the Heart," A Flash of Youth," æc. die. CHAPTER XXI. "YOU AND I." I WHEN I reached the house, I saw ladders against the side of it, and a thick cloud of smoke issuing from the upper windows. The fire had been put out, and all danger of its spreading was over. The alarm had been given in time, and the only damage done was to the lum ber-room, where the fire had begun. It was easy to see how it had originated. Mrs. Monfcaubon had taken the paraffin lamp up with her, and had set it down on a small table, while she rummaged her trunks. She had taken out her jewel-case, and had put on her sapphire and diamond necklace to see the effect of it over some old lace. Turning round suddenly, she overturned the lamp, her light crepon dress, which was saturated with the oil, caught fire, and blazed up. Wild with terror, she rushed downstairs. The rapid movement and the wind that blew from the open windows, fanned the flames. Her liztireaught fire, the lace round her neck, the ruffles on her arms, till she was, as I first saw her, a globe of living flame. Nothing, then, could have been done to save her. She was a doomed woman. Next day, as I sat in the darkened house, I heard quick steps coming to the door, and a voice, saying, "Is anyone here ?" I knew the voice, it was Mr. Montaubon's. Yes," I whispered, opening the door, "I am here." You!" he cried, seizing both my hands How good of you How did you come ? How did you bear ? I came with her. She brought me. Oh! it has been terrible." Yes, I know. Somehow, I always ex- pected she would have a tragic end." "She has had one indeed!" I told him how I had met her, and how we had come to the fateful house, almost against her will, and how the accident had happened, the very evening of our arrival. And you—you—I thought you were in Norway? I added. I came back last night," was his answer. "Oh, Margaret," he added, reproachfully, "Why didn't you answer my letter ?" What letter?" The letter I wrote to you the day you left last October." I never got any letter from you." "You never got a letter I wrote asking you to be my wife ? "Certainly not." And then it flashed across me that I had seen Ali bring in a letter, and that Mrs. Montaubon had taken it, had read it, and had torn it in a hundred pieces. Ah! I cried, that was my letter that she opened. I thought there was something wrong. God forgive her "Yes, God may forgive her. I hope He will. I know she has caused me many an anxious hour. I could not think why you did not write, why the message was sent back to say there was no answer." I never sent it." "But I could not guess that. I know what Selina's motive was. She was always jealous of other people's happiness. She was jealous of ours. Margaret, give me my answer now, it is eight months late, but never mind that, give it to me now." "I will-I will What is it?" "You know what it is. There is no one else in the world for me, but you." "My Margaret—that is an answer worth waiting for! As we sat there, side by side, in that darkened house there seemed to be only one love, one life between us, my being was merged in his; his masterful deep-blue eyes read into my soul, and saw himself reflected there. "Ah, Margaret, if you only knew how I have wearied for you!" And I, how I have wearied for you through the long dusty days and weary wakeful nights." Can you forgive her who kept us so long from each other ? "Yes, I can forgive her now." And will you be able to put up with such a rough, abrupt bear as I am, a regular woman-hater, too?" "Yes, I must, I cannot help myself. We are just you and I.' We must make the best of each other." And so, God helping us, we will! That was a blessed betrothal, though it was plighted in a house of death. We walked together through the fields in the cool of the evening, gazing into each other's eyes, and whispering all sorts of things that we had never dared to speak of before. The stars came out to look at us. The perfume of new-mown hay was blown across the meadows the far blue peak of Penmaen- mawr seemed to tell of distance, of some- thing sweet, something exquisite that awaited us in the dim future, and as we thought of it, the sound of joy bells was wafted to us from a little church far away amongst the hills. CHAPTER XXII. THE STORY OF MRS. MONTAUBON'S LIFE. AFTER Mrs. Montaubon's poor mutilated remains were laid in the churchyard at, Llanbryn, Reginald took possession of all her papers. She bad made no will, and he was her next of kin, and her legal represen- tative. One evening, as he was turning over the contents of a tin box, he came across some closely written sheets of paper. They were tied together with a black ribbon, and outside was written in Mrs. Montaubon's uneven, straggling hand, The Story of my Life." "Now, perhaps, we shall hear how my poor brother came to his death," said Regi- nald. I always knew there was something that none of us quite fathomed, and that Selina never told." He drew his chair to the lamp, and read as follows: This is the night before I leave Caer Newydd, and I have an irresistible desire to write down the story of my life. Perhaps, I may tear up what I am going to say before I die, but no matter, I will, I must, deliver my soul. The wind is howling round the house, and rattling against the windows, like an evil spirit crying out, and demanding some confession from me, so I will make a clean breast of everything, once for all, and perhaps God may have mercy on me in this world, if not in the next. After all I am not so very much to blame. I was not judiciously brought up, in fact, my uncle, generally known as ()I,]. Sam Griffith,' did his best to spoil me. He adopted me when I was quite a small child, and brought me here to live with him. He allowed me to tyrannise over my nurses and governesses, and when they complained, he only laughed, and said, 'I had the true Griffith spirit, that had descended to them from King Llewyllyn, our ancestor.' "I had been several years at Caer Newydd, when another little girl was sent to be my companion. She was five years younger than I, and her name was Sabina, Sabina Griffith. She was my first cousin, the daughter of my uncle's youngest brother, who had been accidentally killed in South Africa. The moment I saw Sabina, I hated her, yes hated her with all the strength of my being. I could not help saying she was prettier than I was, much Prettier. Instead of red hair. like mine. hers was dark and curly, and her deep violet eyes were beautiful, quite beautiful, quite different from any eyes I had ever seen before. She was lightly and gracefully made, too, while I was rather broad. We began to quarrel at once, and we quarrelled more and more every day, till my uncle was at his wit's end to know what to do with us. The worst of Sabina was, that when I was rough with her, she only cried, she never hit me back she knew she was no match for me. But still she often got her own way. If I mel ted her prettiest doll in the fire, she had such taking ways that she was sure to get; another from someone. Everybody liked her, and this added to my dislike. Even my uncle took her part. The cry, Poor little Sabina 'Pretty little Sabina,' 'Dear, sweet little thing,' always grated on my ears. I often lay awake at nights planning how I could get rid of her, but my plans always failed. She was fated to be my torment through life. So things went on, till we two children grew up to be girls. "When Sabina was eighteen and I was twenty-two, Sydney Montaubon came to stay with his brother at Llanbryn. They were both young men. It was Reginald's first curacy, and their father had been a great friend of my uncle's. Sydney was remark- ahly;handsome-we thought he was the hand- somest man we had ever seen—and as he wn, home from India on leave and had nothing to do, he almost lived at Caer Newydd. Hu was in and out of the house all day, and both Sabina and I were head over heels in love with him. Sometimes, he seemed devoted to me, and sometimes to Sabina. No one knew which of us he liked best, for he flirted equally with both of us, and we were both frightfully jealous. Sabina was away during part of his first visit to Llanbryn, but she was at home during his second visit. I began to be mortally afraid that he liked her better than he did me. He talked to me more, but he looked at her. Ah these looks, I could not bear to see them, and when I saw Sabina blushing and looking prettier every day, I felt as if I could have murdered her. And yet Sydney never spoke of love to her nor to me. Some said he was not in a posi- tion to marry. However, he went back to India without anything more decided than eloquent glances, soft pressures of the hand, presents of Indian jewels and curios, and tender lingering'good-bye's.' And these were given to both of us. A year and a half passed by. Sabina had gone on a visit, when an Indian letter arrived with the address in Sydney's illegible handwriting 'Miss S. Griffith.' Now both of us were 'Miss S. Griffith,' for an old aunt had come to live with us, who was Miss Griffith, par excellence. There was, there- fore, every reason why I should open the letter, at least, so it seemed to me. I did open it, and this was what I made out:— "'My own darling' (that might be for either of us), 'I have at last succeeded in getting a staff appointment, and I have now a right to ask you to be my wife. I entreat you to come out to me as soon as you can. The minutes seem hours till I see your dear face. We understood each other so well during those blissful summer days at Caer Newydd, that surely we had no need for words. We read each other's hearts, did not we, my angel ? HoW I longed to tell you what I felt, but I had made a vow that I would not, till I could offer youa home, and now I can-thank God, I can 'Dear, dear Sabina' (it might be Sabina or Selina, the name was so hastily scrawled as to be almost undecipherable), 'don't delay, but come at once to your faithful and devoted Sydney. Wire to me what steamer you will come by, aud I will meet you. I have friends at Bombay to receive you, and our wedding can take place from their house.' "That was the letter. I read it over and over again. There was just a possibility that it might be for Sabina (I klew in my heart that it was), but I could not bear to hand it over to her. Besides, it might be for me. Why not? Sydney had often spoken very soft words to me, and I—I loved him so well. Sabina could not love him as I did. His least word was music to me and the sound of his step an unspeakable delight. And she had so many admirers and I had only him I would not give him up to her, and see her packing up and starting off to join him. No, I could not! I rapidly resolved what to do. I wrote to Sabina, saying that I had received a letter from Captain Montaubon asking me to be his wife, and that I was going to India by the next steamer from Southampton. I hurried on my preparations. I bought an elaborate wedding dress, and took my pas- sage in the Melampus. I had some money of my own, so I had not to ask anyone to help me with either money or advice. When I had fairly started, I began to wonder how I should be received. How dreadful it would be if I were sent back I was certain, however, that Sydney Mon- taubon had a chivalrous dislike to hurting other people's feelings. I had often seen him go out of his way to avoid doing so, and I had a sort of confidence that this pecu- liarity of his would now stand my friend and then I would meet him with such abandon, such eager delight that he could hardly fait to respond! "Never, never can I forget the blank look of dismay in his face as I came up on deck. "Wliy-wliy, Selina, it is you/' "I answered by flinging myself into his arms. 'Yes, yes I set off as soon as I got your letter. Dearest Sydney, what a joy to be with you again Ah we did understand each other at Caer Newydd.' 'But—but, what about Sabina?' "'Oh! she is away at Chester, staying with the Egertons and flirting with aU the officers. I expect we shall soon hear of her engagement with Captain Egerton. It is talked about a good deal already.' I saw his countenance fall, the eager look of expectation vanished from it. TI)en, she didn't get the letter? Sabina didn't get it?' "'Do you mean your letter to mel Of course not, I am Miss S. Griffith, our old aunt is Miss Griffith.' Ah I see, I forgot. How unfortunate "There was no more said just then. But it turned out as I expected. Sydney accepted the position into which I had thrown him. He did not send me back to England, he had not the heart to do it, and our marriage took place in two days. His new appointment obliged him to go off to the hills at once, so there could be no delay. Everything had been arranged forthe wedding, only!—I could not help knowing—the bride was not the right one. "For the first year 1 was happy. I bad triumphed over Sabina. I had taken her lover from her, the lover whom I had always coveted for myself. He accepted my caresses, but; he seldom volunteered of his own; and occasionally when I saw a puzzled, wistful expression steal over his face, I knew he was thinking of Sabina, and then I hated her more than ever. Could it not be possible for me to win his love away from her? Would not my devotion be rewarded? "About two years after our marriage a letter came from Reginald to say that Sabina's nervous system had given way, that she had fallen into a state of melan- choly mania, and was under a doctor's care. I shall never forget my husband's look as he put down the letter and said My poor little Sabina! This would never have happened if she had been my wife, as I always intended her to be. What an un- fortunate mistake it was that divided us from one another. How different our lives would have been!' "'What do you mean?' I cried angrily. I have your own letter to show.' It is no use talking about it now,' he answered, 'the thing is done. But surely, Selina, you must have known that letter was never meant for you ?' I burst into a flood of tears. 1 stormed, I reproached him with cruelty, and he only answered by saying, 'You deceived me about Sabina. You said she did not care for me, and now she cares so much that she is out of her mind. You have deceived me all along, and you know you have.' "After this, the thought of Sabina was poison to me. Any love my husband seemed to have for me, faded quite away. Our first child died as soon as it was born, and now the son that I had hoped would draw us closer together, was still-born. Sydney never kissed me of his own free will. He was civil, attentive, hut, oh so cold. His coldness stung me to the heart. "After eight years of vain struggling to conquer his love, I returned to England, and then the idea came of writing a novel, which would make him proud of me. I would show him that I was capable of something. I wrote away eagerly, I was delighted to see how rapidly the pages grew, and then within a month or two of his arrival from India, invention suddenly failed, for I saw Sabina! "Then I advertised for some one to finish my novel, and Margaret Bailie came. She was not the mild, ordinary sort of person I expected. She w,as tall, almost handsome, and, as I saw, extremely attractive. I longed to get rid of her, but I was persuaded to keep heron, and then Sydney returned three weeks before he was expected. The secret of the novel could not be kept much longer from him. At last, I thought why should Ikeep it a secret. Why not show it, to him, and hear his surprise, his admiration, his delight? The day the party went to Gwydir, I had him all to myself, and. as we sat together under the trees, I said 'Sydney,I have written a novel while you were away, and I want to show it you. Here it is, Miss Bailie typed the end, but all the rest is in my own handwriting.' 'Ah I see. All your own composition ? Yes, all; you must read it. I think you will be very much interested.' "He smiled and took the manuscript. I left him reading it. I felt happier than I had done for a long time. He would surely come back and say, o Selina, I am proud of you! You are cleverer than I ever thought you were. You will make a name with this manuscript.' "But no such thing happened. After waiting for two hours, I went to meet him, he was in the walk under the poplars. "'Well I what do you think of it ?' j 'Think of it! Wliy that it is a great pity you wasted your time over such nonsense. I am sure Lhe end is Miss Bailie's, it is far too good to be yours, and yet you told me you had written it all. It's only another proof that you can't tell the truth about any- thing.' "A wave of passion rushed over me. I pushed him away with both hands, pushed him towards the edge of the pond. "Suddenly, a change came over him: be turned ghastly pale, his eyes closed and he fell back down, down into the pond, still grasping the manuscript in his hand. "Just then I looked up and saw Sabina coming along the path What was she doing there ? Coming to pry at us ? She rushed over to the edge of the pond, and tried to pull the senseless form towards her, but it was no use. Though the water was only four feet deep, no power could lift him out of it, and when I looked at his face, I knew he was dead! I ran to the house. I left him to Sabina. It was better to let people think that it was she who had thrown him in. She was out of her senses and I—I—was his widow I had a right to mourn for him, and she had not. U I am not guilty of his death. They say he died from natural causes, that he might have died at any time, and yet how is it that at times, I feel a mortal terror stealing over me? The sight of that manuscript is like the touch of a dead hand on mine. Does anyone really suspect me? Sometimes, they seem to do, but I will live down all suspicion. I will be merry, gay, if 1 can. Was that a tapping at the window? Ah ah! that hateful pond. I will have it filled up. I will sell Caer Newydd. I will-go-to some amusing, entert aining place. I will get all tbe the enjoyment I can from life. The world is wide. I will try what society will do for me. Only, I wish I did not see Sydney's face looking at me from under the water so often. And Sabina,. that odious Sabina, when she taunted me with being a murderess, how I shrank from her How I shrink from her now But who cares for a poor mono- maniac, shut up under a doctor's charge? I don't think I need fear retribution. After all, I have done nothing so very, very dreadful." Here the writing ended. The story of Mrs. Montaubon's life had suddenly broken off. God have mercy on the miserable woman said Reginald, as he laid down the last sheet. "She deceived herself to the very last." I could make no defence for her. But if she did sin deeply towards others the pun- ishment meted out to her has indeed been terrible. (To be continued.) j
I PASSIVE RESISTERS. I Sixteen Passive Resisters, including Professor G. Sims Woodhead, the ex-Mayor, and a Coun- cillor of Cambridge, were on Tuesday summoned to the local police-court by the overseers for having refused to pay the Education rate. In each case the defendant pleaded a conscientious objection to paying for Sectarian teaching. Distress warrants were issued. Proceedings against Passive Resisters were also taken at Birmingham and at places in Cheshire and Somersetshire. ———————
I WELL-KNOWN FOOTBALLER I CURED OF CONSUMPTION BY DR. WILLIAMS* PINK PILLS. Mr. Chas. W. Wilson, secretary of the Breas- ton Football Club, now residing at 68, Manvers- street, Netherfield, told the "Derby Express" that he had been in a Consumption, his weight falling as low as 8st. lOlb., and that Dr. Wil- liams' Pink Pills for Pale People had saved him. They raised his weight in a very short time to 9st. 71b., and no doubt, as his strength returned, he put on further flesh. 2Mr. C. W. Wilson, A Derbyshire Football Secretary who was cured of Consumption by Dr. Williams' Pink Pills. (From a photo by D. Storer, Long Eaton.) Mr. Wilson's account of his escape from threatened death by Consumption is intelligent and interesting. He said "About sixteen weeks ago I became ill. I did not think the matter of great gravity at first, but gradually I grew worse, and had to seek medical advice. But although skilfully treated I gradually grew worse. I felt very low had scarcely strength to move about and was quite unable to eat or sleep. I lost weight, was feverish and short of breath, and subject to profuse per- spirations, especially at night. I was troubled, too, by a constant cough and pains in my chest. The doctor told my wife the truth: I was Con- sumptive. "I was quite unable to follow my trade as a wheelwright, and after I had been under the doctor a few weeks he ordered me away. I went to a convalescent home, but all to no good. I came ba home, and the doctor told me I should not be able to work again. I asked him what my complaint was, and he would not tell me. However, he told my wife. "My illness continued for about thirteen weeks. As a last resource, I determined to try Dr. Williams' Pink Pills for Pale People. You would hardly believe the benefit I. felt after the first five or six doses. In less than a week I was at work again!" "In what way did you feel the benefit?" "The cough stopped, the pains in my chest left me, and I could eat and sleep better, and in a day or two I walked to Long Eaton and back (two and a-half miles each way) without feeling a bit tired." "How many boxes of Dr. Williams' Pink Pills have you taken?" Six boxes altogether, and I feel quite well now. Would you believe that before I took the pills I only weighed 8st. 101b., but now I am 9st. 71b. I feel as well as ever I did, only not quite so strong, but I shall soon pull my strength up." "Do you attribute your cure solely to Dr. Williams' Pink Pills for Pale People?" "Certainly I do. All the neighbours know of my case, and are surprised to see me at work again." The great difficulty in cases of Consumption is to stop the wasting, due to loss of blood. Dr. Wil- liams' Pink Pills go straight to the root of the matter by making new blood. In the same sim- ple but not less wonderful way they have cured Anaemia, Kidney Disease, Paralysis, Rheu- matism, and the secret miseries of womankind. There is no danger of being deceived by useless substitutes, if the purchaser takes pains to ask for Dr. Williams' pills and to see the full name on the package—Dr. Williams' Pink Pills for Pale People. Dr. Williams' Medicine Company, Holborn-viaduct, London, will send a box post free for 2s. 9d., or for 13s. 9d. six boxes—which effected a complete cure in the case of Mr. Wil- son as above described.
A PRINCE OF CHARITY. I Dr. Barnardo has been giving a most enlighten- ing account of the big charities which he runs Though he is about the busiest man in Londor, he works quietly, systematically, and unostenta- tiously. So implicit is the confidence which he has won tha.t about 80,000 kind-hearted people subscribe annually to his funds. He has under his direction 103 institutions, and to run these he is compelled to find the colossal sum of E180,000 a year. Close upon 7,000 orphans who ha.ve been rescued from the streets are depen- dent on him for food, shelter, clothing, and a start in life. Sitting at a. table in Stepney Cause- way he works incessantly, starting at half-past ten, going home at 11 o'clock at night, only to take a great bundle of papers with him, at which he toils till half-past two, his regular retiring time. Of his homes for children,, 14 are open day and night, exclusive of those in London. Every night the slums are searched for little derelicts, and waif children are brought from all parts of the country by the police, by magis- trates, and by ministers of all denominations. 1
THE LONDON RHINOCEROS. I No small attention ha,8 been given to the re- I mains, recently unearthed from below the foun- dations of the "Daily Chronicle" buildings in London of a great "Siberian" rhinocerosi. It will now be learned with interest that, having regard to their value in a natural history sense, they are to pass into the national custody of the British Museum. Professor Ray Lankester, the director of the Natural History Museum, has asked that. the relics should go to South Kensing- ton, and his request has been granted. "Al- though remains of this extinct species a.re fairly common," said Dr. Lankester, it is seldom that we get them in such good state of preservation." D'\ Ray Lankester calculates that probably 150,000 years have passed since the Fleet-street rhinoceros was alive. That would have been after the last glacial epoch, when Fleet-street was the home,, not of newspapers, but of mam moths seeking to devour each other.
"Did you tell a friend of mine," the small man exclaimed, indignantly, "that I could not tell the truth if I tried?" "No, sir," replied the large man. "I wouldn't think of saying such a thing." I am glad to hear it." "I wouldn't think of saying you couldn't tell the truth if you tried, because-" "Well?" "So far as I am informed you never tried." I
WOMAN'S WORLD. ATTRACTIVE WOMEN. A pretty face only constitutes one of the characteristics whuh go towards making a woman at- tractive, and it is absurd (says a writer in the Evening News ") to suppose that her charms decrease as time adds a wrinkle to her face. As a matter of fact, many women are far more attractive between the ages of thirty and thirty-five than those who are ten years younger. The latter, perhaps, appear more charming and fascinating to the average young man, on account of their personal beauty, vivacity, youth. &e. But although the attractiveness of a woman between thirty and thirty-ffve years of age may not be so apparent at first sight, it is really far greater than that of a younger woman. FURS OF THE FUTURE. The winter is not with uryet, but we are already talking of furs and what are to be the favourites. Sable and sealskin are foregone conclusions, but what of the rest of the crowd, chinchilla and ermine and caracul and fox ? White fox one seems confident of, because the white feather stole has been so popular the last few month s. and dark fox perhaps also will have some innings, for those who paid long sums for their foxskins last winter will not want to set them aside yet. The speckled browny foxskins are most certain to he favoured, because the very beavery brown of their colouring will be so modish in costume, and tne costume and the stole seem as bent on good fellow- ship as formerly were the hat and the costume. And for the same reason their beaver brown colouring nutria and beaver skins are certain to be favoured by the fashionable. Nutria is the cheaper of these two, so very like each other, and, says a writer in the Gentlewoman," I can foresee ex- ceedingly presentable long and handsome coats of n u f.t.j St. CUTTING DOWN THE TROUSSEAU. In the trousseau of a very smart and well-to-do young lady who was married recently there were not more than eight frocks, all told. They were handsome frocks, but no more so than if the girl hadn't in- tended to be married at all, but was just getting ready for the summer. Naturally, some of her relatives were horrified, but the bride herself was content, and she looked so blooming and so different from what she might have looked if she had spent months being fitted, and worrying about embroid- eries, that some of her women friends declared they would follow her example, for what does it profit a girl if she gain a husband but lose her good looks in sewing ? It used to be said that a bride looked less well at her own wedding than at any other time, but that is no longer so. Nowadays the girl who is married is as carefree as is her maid of honour, and sometimes the baggage which she takes to her new home is as modest in size as though she had no in-laws to impress. RINGS AND BETROTHALS. When young Russian girls are anxious to knew if they will be married (and what young girl i not anxious to kuow that?) several of them assemble, each wearing a ring. A large basket of corn is brought in, and each girl drops her ring carefully, stirring up the corn the while. Then a hungry hen is introduced, and whichever maiden's ring is first discovered will be the first one married. In the marshes of the North sea coast it was formerly customary in Germany for the bridegroom to give the bride on the day of the betrothal, instead of a ring, a valu- able coin, called "echle," or genuine, as a pledge that the compact between them was binding. This is also a remnant of the time when wives were ac- quired by right of purchase, and the custom is still prevalent is some isolated places. Among un- Christian nations betrothal rings are unknown. For example, a Mohammedan, instead of giving his bride a ring, bestows on her a Maschkass," or square amulet of pure gold, which the girl hangs around her neck. In India a small amulet is worn by a woman as a badge of marriage. It generally consists of many coloured beads, and is about as large around as a bracelet, but there must be some gold in it, however little. ARRANGING FLOWERS. An excellent business is earried on by many clever American J women living at home, which has ] in one or two instances been eopied over here. This is nothing more or less than arranging flowers in other people's houses, more especially for table decorations. The art of floral decoration is becoming so universally patronised in this country, where for too long it was but little understood, that many ladies are in considerable perplexity as to how they are to make their entertainments as attractive as their neighbour's, from a floral point of view. Of course, at very gorgeous entertainments this is now an affair that requires the help of the one or more assistants in grouping plants, piling up blossoms, &c., but the servants of the house can generally be told off for this work, and will do it well enough under experienced direction. But it is in little dinners that the lady flower-artist chiefly shows her genius, and for this not only talent is needed, but careful thought and tact. She must devise something original, graceful, and charming in the table arrangement—something to set that special dinner or luncheon apart from others and make it remembered. She groups her colours, and even studies the menu, that no tint may clash with any special dish she blends, and artfully accentuates, till the whole is almost a pic- ture. A lady who can carry out work of this kind successfully can obtain plenty of work during the busy London season, and, in many cases, all the year round. u RULE YOUR YOUNGSTERS. The mother's task of conquerin the child should begin at an early age, or in the end the child will rule the parent. A striking I Z" Alustration of this was once noticed on one of the busy streets of a certain city. Two ladies, who had evidently been shopping, were pushing in front of them a carriage in which sat a bright- eyed, laughing child of perhaps, three years. It soon discovered, however, that the carriage was headed toward home, and the child at once began to express the desire to go back. Its mother not complying, its face, a moment before all sunshine, assumed a look of passion, and its cries could bo heard far down the street. After some trifling attempts to still its cries the mother laughingly remarked to her companion that, perhaps, they had better go where baby wanted to, which was done, and smiles once more covered the little one's face. They were soon lost from sight in the moving throng, but already the child had learned her power and will continue to use it. One lady was heard to remark: If that mother can't manage her child at three, how can she expect to have any influence over her at 16." WOMAN AND THE VOTE. In Munich women owners of taxable property have a right to vote at municipal elections, but they have never gone in I person to the polls, sending instead male proxies. At a recent election, however, one courageous woman, who, by the way, is president of a large philanthropic association of women, appeared in person to cast her vote. She pleaded that it was not any more difficult to cast a ballot than to iBstruct some men how to do it, while the only way to be sure that the right ballot was used WHS to cast it herself. Her action caused something of a sensation, but she was not denied the privilege she asked for. When it is remembered that until very recently women in Germany were not allowed to attend political meetings or ally themselves with political parties, and that these lawB are still in effect in many parts of the empire, this action of a woman voter, which passed without protest from the men, indicates a growing sentiment in favour of improved conditions for women. The Liberal Party and the Social Democrats all over Germany, wherever the laws are not unfavourable, are inviting women to join them. In Hamburg about 1100 women belong to the Social Demo- cratic clubs, and are even represented on their boards of directors.
A bomb with a fuse has been discovered near a house in the Calle San Pedro, Barcelona. The authorities believe that an Anarchist outrage is in question.
I ART AND LITERATURE. Will the newly announced volume of Mr. Kipling's poems, asks a literary writer, contain the verses celebrating Lord Roberts? These, which appeared some ten years ago in the "Pall Mall Magazine," have never been reprinted. Yet. they haunt the memory and. come trippingly off the tongue. Why have they not appeared in bock form,( "There's a little red-faced man, Name o' Bobs," who is "little but a terror for his size." Mr. Joseph Hocking's new novel "A Flame of Fire," being the history and adventures of three Englishmen iij Spain at the time of the Great Armada, will De issued by Messrs. Cassell and Company on September 1, and will be published mimultaneously in America.. Novelists are frequently heard to protest (observes the "Morning Post") against reviewers who persist in regarding innocent works of fiction as romans a clef, and the characters sprung from the brains of the authors as portraits of living statesmen, artists, beauties, or what not, in fact holding tha-t, save for the alteration of names of persons and places, and some slight artistic improvements, the novels are really memoirs of the very immediate past. Now, for a. change, we have an author advertising his sworn declaration that a book which has been reviewed as a novel is truly an autobiography and a literal statement of facts, save that certain names and dates have been left out for motives of charity. The last instance we remember of any such. declaration was in the case of a well-known writer of books of travel whose extraordinary and terrible experiences at the hands of a mediaeval people had been regarded by some agnostic reviewers with sceptism. The library of the late Mr. William Ernest Henley will shortly be dispersed, and the sale should attract all who are interested in modern literature. It includes many books which are beautiful in form or possess the quality of rarity, together with intrinsic merit. Also one remembers that when one took a volume from his shelves it generally had a written inscription from the author or the editor, while it had often a printed dedication. The catalogue, when it is issued, will probably enable one to arrive at cer- tainty as to a point with regard to which nobody has ever achieved definite knowledge: the number of books which were made up in the whole or in part of matter contributed to the "Scots" and "National Observer." An important art book is announced, the sub- ject being Mr. James Orrock, the well-known artist, collector, and connoisseur. The choicest of his art treasures will be shown in nearly eighty photogravure plates, and many other illustrations. This gallery will include pictures by great English masters like Constable, which have never been engraved before. Mr. Orrock has also been a collector of Chippendale and Sheraton furniture and of Nankin china. Thus the book, which is to be in two volumes and limited to 500 sets, will touch art on many sides. In it Mr. Byron Webber is Boswell to Mr. Orrock's memories. Mr. Lydekker, whose writings on natural history are so well known, has finished a book entitled "Mostly Mammals." It consists of essays, dealing in an exact yet popular way with all the latest phases of zoology. Thus one chapter discusses the colouration of large animals, and another explains why Arctic animals turn white. Monkey hand-prints and the pedigree of the cat are other subjects in which the general reader can take an interest. The book is to have illustrations from drawings and photographs by, among others, the Duchess of Bedford, Lord Delamere, and the Hon. Walter Rothschild. "Dual Personalities" is the appropriate title of the leading article in the "Literary World." For two personalities lurk behind it. As we read it certain memories- were stirred in the brain, and a brief research disclosed the fact that it was transferred in all its three columns and a half from the leading article in the "Academy" of February 14, 1903. The title was changed from "Novelist Poets," a word or two on the first line was dropped and this constitutes the sole claim of the signatory—A. N.—to the authorship. And we have good reason for stating that those initials do not occur in the name of the writer of the original article. We have chaffed the proposed faculty of journalism at the Columbia University. But its course in the ethics of journalism seems to be needed in England. An interesting memorial portrait in bronze of Sir Thomas Lovell, who was Speaker of the House of Commons, and held many other impor- tant appointments during the reign of Henry VIII., has been added to the collection of monu- ments in Westminster Abbey. It is supposed to be by Tcrrigiano, of whose work there are already many notable examples in the Abbey; and it is as admirable in its artistic qualities as it is historically valuable. It has been pre- sented to the Dean and Chapter by Sir J. C. Robinson ,and has been placed on the back of the stalls i nthe south aisle of Henry VII.'s Chapel. The bronze was formerly in the Na- tional Portrait Gallery, to which it was lent for some while by Sir J. C. Robinson. Mr. H. de T. Glazebrook is sending to the Walker Art Gallery, at Liverpool, for the autumn exhibition, a portrait of Mr. Anthony Hope which deserves a prominent place among the many other portraits of contemporary cele- brities which he has painted during the last few years. He has caught very happily the characteristic expression of the famous novelist, and has arranged the portrait with welcome un- conventionality. Mr. Glazebrook's sitters lately have included many people who have made their mark in the history of this country. His ad- mirable renderings of Lord Milner and Lord Goschen last year will be long remembered as two of the beit portraits that have appeared in recent times; and he has since painted Mr. Frankfort Moore, Sir Harry Poland, Sir John Furley, Lord Savile, and several other men of note. Mr. John Morley, whose book on Mr. Glad- stone will soon be out, is regarded by the average man in the street as a somewhat solemn and sombre personage, a character, which, to tell the truth, is to a certain extent not un- deserved. Mr. Morley has never golfed, rowed, cricketed, or played tennis, and is probably happiest in the library. At the same time, he is not without some recreations, for it is not many years ago since he and Mr. Chamberlain were not infrequently seen together in the stalls of some London theatre, and of music he is a de- voted lover. According to one biographer, Mr. Morley is also an admirer of cats, and he was once known to keep a horse, which, however, he never drove except on the flat, for his 'hu- manity prevented him allowing the animal to drag the burden of his weight up hill > Mr. Morley is very fond of walking, and in his younger days spent several holidays in Surrey with George Meredith, with whom he tramped many miles over the hills and commons. To these walks, and to his consequent close com- panionship with Meredith, Mr. Morley ascribes much of his subsequent success in life. A romantic story attaches to two valuable pic- tures which have just been placed on view in the Tedclington Science and Art School. One of the pictures is a Van Dyck, and the other a portrait of the Earl of Derby, painted by Win- stanley in 1733. When Mr. Andrew Carnegie offered to present a large sum of money towards the building of a new free library at Teddington, it was decided to include an art gallery, and a small committee was appointed to purchase suit- able pictures. Purely by accident Mr. Bell and Mr. Percy Smith heard that a dilapidated pic- ture, which had been bought by a Chiswick furniture dealer, was to be sold by auction at Kingston. They accordingly attended the sale, bought the picture for £ 1, and found it to be a Van Dyck dealing with Tasso's poem "Rin- aldo." It was carefully restored and placed in the art school. Mr. Bell saw the other picture— Winstanley's portrait of the Earl of Derby—in a barber's shop in Colne-road, Twickenham, where it had reposed dirty and frameless for four years. Ten shillings was offered for the picture and accepted, and HOW after being cleaned, it reveals the figure of tne nobleman bewigged and in a pink velvet coat. The na- ture of the Van Dyck bargain may be gauged from the fact that a small portrait by the same master recently fetched 130 guineas. His fa- mous equestrian portrait of Charlesl. in ti » Nationr", Gallery cost E17,500 to acquire.
] bOUTH AFRICAN WAR. I I COMMISSIONERS' REPORT. I The Commissioners appointed to inquire into the South African War have issued their Report, which deals chiefly with the questions of the pre- parations for the war and the supplies of men and materials. As to the conduct of the mili- tary operations the Commissioners decline to pronounce judgment on questions of strategy or tactics, on which the evidence of the military witnesses they examined was frequently conflict- ing. In regard to the preparations the report in- dicates that the Intelligence Department ob- tained fairly accurate information as to the armed strength the Boers could command, their armament. d their disposition; but it also shows tun* an inadequate conception of the ex- tent of the reinforcv-JHents required in South Africa to resist a Boer attack on our Colonies in the event of a war had been formed both by the Government and by its military advisers and the Commissioners comment on the alarming deficiencies in reserve stores and material at the beginning of the war. Among the topics treated in the report are the supply of men, the qualities shown by officers, the behaviour and value of the Auxiliary Forces and the Colonial contingents, questions of ammunition, equipment, and trans- port, remounts, the Medical department, the work of the Engineers and Army Service Corps, and the subject of War Office organisation, in regard to which some important suggestions are made both by the Commission as a whole and by individual members in separate memoranda. (
A correspondent of the "Field" mentions a curiousi superstition respecting bees dying on the death of their owner. "I have been," he writes, "to the sale of the effects of a gentleman who died about a fortnight since. In the catalogue three stocks of bees were entered for sale, but when the man went to move them out they were all dead. This is the third time I have person- ally known such an occurrence." An Indian recently sold in Chicago three sets of antlers inexplicably interlaced. It is supposed that two bucks were fighting in the forest and became locked, and that while they were still struggling a third buck charged them, when his own horns became fastened.
THE SIMPLON TUNNEL. i From a recently published official. report on the work of driving the great twelve-mile Simp- Ion tunnel in Switzerland, it appears that at the beginning of this year one of the two parallel tunnels which really constitute the work had been completed over a distance of 46,996ft., and the other over a distance of 46,281ft., or in both cases close on to nine miles. The expenditure on the two drivings, including the lines of access, amounted in round numbers to 9,800,000f. from October 1, 1901, to September 30, 1902, the fourth year of construction, a.nd for the total of the four years, to 37,800,000f. The extremely rapid in- crease of the rock temperature at one time alarmed the officials, going up as high as 129deg. F., considerably more than had been anticipated but the bottom of the northern gal- lery being below the culminating point of the mountain, it wa.s almost certain that the tempera- ture would not increase any further. With its 12-miles length the Simplon tunnel will be the longest in the world. It will establish direct communication between Paris and Milan, but without the drawback of the heavy grades which characterise the St. Gothard line. The contract made with the Jura-SimpIon Railway Company by the contractors guaranteed the completion of one of the two tunnels within five and one-half years. No fixed time wa.s stipulated for the com- pletion of the second tunnel.