The Pembroke County Guardian and Cardigan Reporter

2¡; D:r:f :J< ;);1 ohpbiaethau Cymreig i f'wyddfa. S, Nid ydym yu gyfrifol am syniadau ein goheb- wyr. i Ysg??erL?T ag ingc, ar un tu o'r ddalen, ac mor e?ur ag sydd bosibi fel na byddo perygl i'r cysc"}ydd gamddeall yr ysgrifen. Rl-ia" i'r holl gyfansod<Hadau ddanfonir i fewn foQ :)g enw'r awdwr wrthynt. Os am fed o dan Bugenw, tc'T-r yr enw priodol ar gefn- y papy: GOLYGYDD—KILMOREY, Swyddfa'r Guardian," Solfach, S.O.

MAE SON AM DANYNT. Mrs. Watts-Hughes. Me-.vn ynddiddan ag hen gyfai'll ryw noson n&t.t ddwy yn ol, cefais ychydig hanes y gan- torae pcuv'jg uchod, yr hon fu farw beth am- ser yn ol. A chan fod y gwr hynaws o Lan CATA yn gofyn a oedd iddi gysylltiad a Sir Bert:) (er ni ddaeth y gofyniad trwy gyirwng y .GolMfn Gymreig). nid allan o Ie yn sicr, yw ar "ddu a gwyn" yr hyn a fynegwyd imi. Flyuyddoedd lawer yn ol preswyliai yn N-h -rn-t:-dyrhiw un o'r enw Thomas Watt, ac yn ei. ddydd yr oedd yn ddyn dylanwadol yn yr ardal, yn meddu ar gryn allu, yr hyn a ddef- nyddiai yn achlysurol i bregethu yr efengyl yn Nhrefgarn. Yr oedd gan y Thomas Watt hwn -ju mab, ac efe oedd tad Mrs. Watts- Hushes (Miss Watts y pryd hyny). Mae dau o gefnaer.vyr iddo yn awr yn byw yn Solfa—sef Mr. James Jenkins a Mr. Moses J enkins (brodyr). Symudodd tad Mrs. Watts-Hughes o'c ardal yn mhell cyn ei geni-a thua Dow- taia y cyfeirjodd ei gamrau—eyrchfan pobloedd lawf-,r yn y dyddiau o'r blaen. Tua phedair biynedd a deugain yn ol, mwy neu lai, bu Mrs Watts-Hughes ar ymweliad a'r ardal hon, ar gais Mr. Thomas, Llethr—(gwr ag y mae ei gof- fadwriaeth yn wyrdd hyd heddyw)—yn nhy yr hw¡o y lletyai. Canodd y gantorea enwog droion YI1 Nhrefgam, ac aeth i lawr i Dyddewi ar gais J::i eyfeillion. Clywodd ein hysbysydd hi yn canu y pryd hyn, a'i dystiolaeth oedd iddi wr.rei::ldio'r dorf a'i llais melodaidd. Canai yr "i don "Crugybar" ar y geiriau. "0 fryn- iau(.d.er3a.lemeeirgweled"ne3i'rgynulle;dfa bron eolli arnynt eu hunain. Yr oedd y dylan- wad yn lethol, yn-.ron. Pan yn Xowlais, yn ferch bur ieu:1::lc, elai yn fynych ic.\vn ar ddisper'od o dy ei thad a'i man—a buont betn Ilr-sc-r cyn dod o hyd iddi. Yr oedd gan ry'.v foneddigcs cedd yn byw tuag "ergyd l careg" o'i chartre' berdonog (piano) yr hwn chwajeuid ganddi yn ddyddiol. Ac yn nghym- ffenestr y foneddiges hen y mynai tr ferch fach fod o hyd ac o hyd. Cafodd ei swynu gymaint nes iddi syrthio mewn cariad a'r c-rferyn—ei "ehariad cyntaf'—ac yn fuan wedi hyn gwel'yd hi yn chwareu 'i bysedd ca-in dros nodau'r offer cerdd. Yr oedd Mrs. \Val.ts-d :.lghes wedi ei geni i ganu, a'i phrif i uchelga.is yn nyddiau ei hieunctyd oedd d'cd yn hyddysg yn nghelf y gan. Gwelwyd yn fuan Vt'edi hyn ei gobeithion wedi eu sylwedd- olt. Manteisiodd ar bob cyne gafodd i gyfoeth- ogi ei meddwl ac i oleuo ei deall mewn cer- ddQJiaeth. Nid oedd hi wedi ei geni a "llwy aur yn ei genau" (fel y dywedir); isel i raddau oeSd ei hamgylchiadau. Oud daeth ei chyfeil- IjQli yn Nhowlais i'r adwy i'w chynorthwyo a t'h.rwy eu caredigrwydd, galluogwyd hi i fyned i'r ''Academy," a chafodd anrhydedd yno yn bur f'-ian. Nid yn "ofer ac am ddim" y danu iddynt gyfranu. Ni chafwyd gwell Hog am ar- ian erioed. Ar ol trculio ei gyrfa addysgol yn yr "Academy" (a gyda llaw, graddio yno yn anrhydeddus), galwyd yn fynych am ei gwasan- aeth mewn cyngerddau, etc., ar hyd a lied y wlr.d. Rhoddodd ei goreu i'r genedl, a nhau macchludodd ei dydd, galar mawr a wnaeth- pNv-r ei hol. Dyna. ddarllenydd, yr ychydig banes a gyfranwyd i ni am Mrs. Watts-Hughes. a gwelir fod iddi gysylltiad pur agos a Sir Benfro—hen Sir sydd wedi bod yn fagwrfa cedyrn—ajnryw o honynt sydd heddyw yn addurn iddi, ac yn "caru'r wlad a'u macco." Prof. Nicholas, Coleg Presbyteraidd, Caerfyrddin. Wele wr arall sydd wedi rhoddi anrhydedd ar Sir Benfro. Magwyd a ganwyd ef yn yrayl Troedyrhiw, ac y mae yr hen dy diaddum yn arcs hyd heddyw, a bob tro aiff yr ysgrifenydd h.o'r fali, nid ]>?o' yn anghono'r ffaith ddarfod i ddyn mawr gaeL ei eni yno, yr hwn ddaeth yn Brcneswr Coleg Caerfyrddin. Yr oedd Mr. Xichnlas yn ysgolor gwych. a'i wybodaeth eang yn- llifo i -.vahanol gyfeiriadau. Yr oedd yn un ifr dynior. glanaf y medrech gyfarfod ar daith dí\ rnod-d¡:.J.meu fod y "ladies" yn dotio arno! Bu ef droion yn Solfach, a'r tro olaf y mae coi gan fy ughyfaill am dane oedd yn Nghwrdd Cwarter y Sir yn y Cwrdd Ueha. Cymerodd ran yn y gwasanaeth. Yr oedd ei bresenoldeb na:n s.r y ILvyfan, mewn pwyllgor, neu gyfarf- od p"?gethu yn rhoddi urddas ar y cynulliad. "Er \vedi marw yn llefaru etto." Jon&h Evans, Y Dyn DaU. Diolch am allu i weled! Ond am ygwr uchod yr oedd yn amddifad o'r gallu hwnw— a dyna wrthddryeh tosturi yw y dyn daH, cnide? Ac yn ddall y ganwyd Jonah Evans. Caitref ei dad a'i fam oedd Treasser Fach. yn ochr Trefgarn etc. Yr oedd yn ddyn talentog eithriadol, a syn meddwl sut ddarfu iddo ddod i gymaint gwyboHaeth o dan amgylchiadau mor anft'ortunus<?) Yr oedd yn gystadleuwr myn.- ych mewn eisteddfodau o nod, a chipiai y llaw- ryf bron bob ergyd. Cynygiwyd gwobr fawr am draethawd yn un o eisteddfodau'r Gogledd ryw dro-a phan fydd y wobr yn sylweddol, y pryd hyn y ceir gwei'd niferoedd yn tynu am y durch. Felly yr oedd y pryd hyn, ac amryw o feirdd ac ysgrifenwyr campus yn eu plith. Ond Jonah a orfu; a bron yn ddieithriad pan y cynygiai am y traethawd mewn eisteddfod delai allan yn oichfygwr. Darllenwyd genym ei draethawd ar "Amser" beth amser yn ol. ac yr oedd yn anghyffredin o dda. Pregethai hefyd yn ami. Cafodd ei dori lawr yn gynar- rhy gynar i olwg daear; ond meddyliodd y Net fod yn llawn bryd i'w alw adref i'r wlad lie nad oes neb yn ddall. "Abel y Fanie Rhaid cyfeirio yn fyr at yr hen gymeriad wre, gwreiddiol hwn, am iddo ef weled goleu ddydd yn yr un ardal a.'r rhai a enwyd eisoes. Abel William oedd ei enw priodol, ond fel "Abel y Fan Ie" yr adnabyddid ef oreu. Nid oedd ei.£ieu ond dod i gyffyrddiad ag ef unwaith i'w adnaLod. Gwisgai, ceiddai, siaradai yn wahanol i bawb eraill. Yr anialwch fyddai trigi'a fwyaf cydweddol yw natur. Rhyw Elias o ddyn oedd. Ei brif hynodrwydd oedd ei allu i fa.rddoni(?) Yr oedd yn boblogaidd yn y grefft hon, a mynych iawn y gofynid ganddo i wneyd pwt o gan i hwn, ac i hyn a'r Hall. -Dirro-,i yw a ganlyn i ddangos ei ddireidi a.'i "wit" ba.rod. Yr oedd yna Sarmwr yn y gym- dogaeth wedi cael "car" newydd, ac yr oedd yn gwylio'r cyile i ddod o hyd i Abel er mwyn iddo wneuthur penill i'r "ear." Gyda Haw, efallai mae gwell yw dweyd nad oedd bywiol- aeth fras i weision ffarm y gwr boneddig hwn, ac yr oedd Abel wedi dod i wybodaeth o'r gwiiionedd. Ond un diwmod, cyfarfyddodd y ffarrnwr ag Abel ar y ffordd, a gofynodd iddo a fyddai mor garedig a gwneyd penill bach i'r "car newydd." A chan guro'r ddaear a'r ffon. a "ch:l,thu'i wddwg," yn y fel hyn y canodd:— "Dyma gar at gario dynion I gael rhoi eu boliau'n dynon; A'r bobi g:ntre'n byw ar faidd, Fe'i clywir eu gwaedd o V/erddon." Mae yn bur dcbyg na ofynodd y ffarmwr hwn byth end hyny i Abel am bcnill i'w "gar" na dim arall. Hawdd fyddai ymhelaethu, end yn wir, nid oes bias yn awr. Mae yr hen bererin wedi gorphen ei daith er's biynyddau. end y mae ei hen ddywediadau fraethbei-t a'i benill- ion "taleen slip" wedi dyfod i lav/r yn eti- feddiaeth i'r ardalwyr presenol. 'Roedd mab iddo yn byw yn Solfach er's mheU cyn cd ganym—Harry Abel wrth ei enw—ac yr oeel,; cryn lawer o nodv.'eddion ei dad yn y bachgeij hwn. Gobeithio y bydd yr ychydig ncdiadau hyn; am rai o enwogion a anwyd yn ein hymyi yn dderbyniol gan ein darllenwyr. KILMOREY.

Rolophernes a'i Loyn Byw. Syr,—Caf lawer o ddyddordeb wrth ddar- lien o bryd i bryd eich darnau ar wahanol destynau yn Ngholofn Gymreig y "Guardian." ac faallai na fyddweh yn digio, er mor beryglus ydyw. am air o gynghor, end yn benaf i "Holophernes" parthed ei ddarn ar y "Gloyn Byw." Bum yn ceisio astudio wrth ddarllen ei waith beth oedd ei "fyfyrdodau" wrth ei gyfansoddi, canys dengys yn amiwg na welodd wrthddrych ei destyn o'r cychwyn hyd y diwedd, er chwilio am dano ymysg y "ser a'r planedau," "anifeil- iaid a phyagod," "ogofau a bryniau," "dylluanod ac Indiaid," a Iluaws o bethau eySelyb, nes fy synu at ei wybodaeth a.'i allu tu hwnt i'r cyffredin o ddef- nyddio yr Hen laith, a chynghaneddu fel y mynno at ei wasanaeth. Ond er mor gynym ei feddyliau oedd ar ei "Loyn" o hyd o'r golwg, a methodd ei ddal, a theimlaf nad cwbl o'i Ie a fyddai iddo fyfyrio nesaf ar y "Gloyn" marw." Yna cawsai hamdden i astudio ac yn ddiddadl buasai ei waith yn gaffaeliad i'r oes a ddel. Ond ai nid gwawdiaith yw o'i eiddo parthed darnau eraill sydd wedi ymddangos. Os dyna yw, ystyriaf ef yn gampwaith y ganrif bresenol, adylasaihynygaelei ddangos yn eglur i'r byd. Rhaid i mi ddweyd fy mod yn "elomi rhwng dau feddwl," a buaswn yn ddiolchgar iawn i "Holophernes" am ddat,-u(idiL,.d eglur parthed i'w ddarn. Da chwi. ohebwyr, glynwch wrth eich testynau pan yn cyfansoddi.—Yr eiddoch, etc., lonawr 19, 1908. X. Y. Z.

Marwolaetb Mrs Sarah Harries, Rhodiad. lonawr loeg, bu farw yr hen chwaer, Mrs. Sarah Harries, Rhodiad, Phvyf Dewi, yn yr oedran mawr o 83 mlwydd oed. Mam Mrs. Davies, Clegyr Boia: Mrs. Thomas, Rhodiad; Mr. John Harries, Trehysps; mereh i'r diwed- dar hen Batriarch Mr. Vv. Owen, Felin Gwryd, a chwaer i'r diweddar Barchedig John Owen, gynt o Bencader, a Mr. W. Owen, gynt o Fclin Isaf. Bu iddi un chwaer, yr hen fu yn wraig i'r diweddar E. Rieha-rds, Treleddydfawr. Bu) yr hen chwaer yn achwyngar am flynyddau lawer, a daeth yr alwad i'w chyrchu gartref. CHaddwyd yr hyn oedd farv.'ol o hcni dydd Llun, lonawr Slain, yn mynwent Tyddewi; ei gweinidu?, y Parch. J. Maxtor Morgan fu yn gwa.gana.thu yn gh3,pel Rhodiad ac ar lan y bedd. DYFROG.

Yes, if You Please. Dyma. y geiriau diweddaf a lefarwyd gsn y Due Wellington cyn marw. Llefarwyd hwynt ganddo wrth eneth o forwyn a ofynai iddo os cymerai gwpanaid o de o'i Haw. "Yes, if you please," atobai y dyn cedd wedi bod ynarwainy byddinoedd mwyaf yn Ewrop. Nid oes dim yn brydferthach ac yn gryfach yn holl amgyleh- iadau bywyd na boneddigeiddrwydd a thyner- wch mewn gair ac ymadrodd. Y mae y fraw- ddeg fechan, "Yes,if you please" yn effeith- iolach na holl eiriau gorchymynol, awdurdodo], y geiriadur. Ar yr aelwyd, yn mhlith eich cyf- eillion, ac yn mhlith eich is-anaid, peidiwch anghofto swyn-gyfaredd y geiriau,—"Yes, if you please."

Y Medelwr. Pwy fu'n crwydro dros y braenar Gyda'T gwanwyn gwyrdd? Pwy fu'n gwylio'r hafddydd hawddgar Yn prydferthu'r ffyrdd? Gajl yr hydref ddod a'i anrhaith Heibio'r ffridd a'r glyn: Cain yw nodau telyn gobaith Yn y "gwenith gwyn." Pwy sy'n myn'd i'r gwndwn golau Gyda thoriad gwawr? Dry'n addolwr wrth wei'd gwenau Duw yn dod i lawr? Daw dyfodol o wynfaoedd Heibio gyda hyn; Wrth fugeilio gras y nefoedd Ar y "gwenith gwyn." Pwy sy'n cadw'i gan yn groew Hyd yr hwyrddydd llaith? Pwy ay'n cadw'i fraich yn hoew Drwy yr haf-ddydd maith? Oeda'r awel i glustfeinio, Ar ystlysau'r bryn, Ar ei gryman gloew'n suo Drwy y "gwenith gwyn." Y Medelwr, mab y meusydd, Plentyn Xatur yw: Ceidw ddefnydd alaw newydd Am ddainn.i 'i Dduw: Acen hoe.. y Cynhauaf Glywir yn mhob glyn; Dyna fydd ei emyn tlysaf Am y "gwenith gwyn." Pentre. CENECH.

Yr Acgel a'r Baban. HoS faban a gysgai, Ei anwyl fam wylai, Ei phriod oedd bell ar wyneb y Hi'; Y 'storm wnai gynyddu 0 gylch yr anedd-dy, A 1-lefai, "0 Dermot, dos nol ataf n. Tra yno gweddiai, Y baban a gysgai, A gwenai i'w gwyneb tra'i heirchion 'ai fry* "0 bendith am arwydd 0 lwyddiant, nid aflwydd, Can's gwn fod angelion yn siarad a thi." "A thra gwnant ofalu, Am danat yn cysgu, 0' deisyf di ganddynt i wrando fy nghri, A gofyn yn ddifrad 'Wnant wylio'th anwyldad, Can's gwn fod angelion yn siarad a thi." Y boreu a wawriodd, Hoff Dermot ddychwelodd, A'i wraig a'i croesawodd yn hawddgar i'r ty, Ei baban goneidiai, A'i enaid bendithiai, "Mi wyddwn fed engyl yn siarad a thi." DEHEUFARDD. *Mae traddodiad yn mhlith y Gwyddelod, pan fyddo baban yn gwenu yn ei gwsg, ei fod yn siarad ag angelion.

G<fytu9d ::11 Af&t'wy "Yn ystod y Gwyddyn.' meddai ysgrifenydd o'r Rhondda, yr ydym wedi cael yma naw mis o auaf, a thri nis o dywydd drwg." Ym- ddengys fod y Rhondda, modd bynag, wedi cael mwy na'i chyfran o wlaw, yn ddiweddar, a gofynai Afan\v.—Y arch. H. Harries, D.D:, gweinidog y Bedyddwyr, Treherbert, mewn syn- dod:— Arllwys y dyfrwl;iw oerllyd—i'r cymydd Wna'r cwmmwl, bob ennyd; Ai'n y nen, uwch ben y byd Mae'r .tf. ,n, a'r mor hefyd?

Beddargraff Gurnos. Gwel yma feddrod yr Eisteddfodwr, Ei ddaear nodda wir awenyddwr; Addurn y llwyfan, i Walia'n wyliwr, Y cywir Frython a'r cryf areithiwr; Gurnos oedd, gwir hynaws wr—ffraeth ei fin, Dyn 'hwyl' y werin-eu doniol arwr. GWYDDERIG.

Ti Elli fod yn ijymro. Ti elli fod yn Gymro, A charu'r byd 'run pryd; A garo'r wlad a'i macco 1 Yn iawn eill garu'r byd. Nis gelli garu Cymru Yn iawn heb garu'r byd* Gwladgarwch iawn sy'n tyfu Dyngarwch iawn o hyd. Anghono'i bod yn Gymru Oedd perygl Cymru Fu: Anghofio'r byd o'u deutu Yn awr yw perygl llu. Gwladgarwr mwyaf hanes Oedd fwy na'i genedl gun: Y GaHlead cynnes A elwir Mab y Dyn! Fy ngwiad, fy ngwiad, gyrr allan I'r byd dy sain yn awr: Nid glo fo'th ymffrost weithian, Ond dynion eang mawr. GWILI.

Fy Ma Magwyd fi yn dyner, dyner, Ar dirionaf fron fy mam; Ni dderbyniais i un amser Ar ei dwylo'r Ileiaf gam; Mwy ei gofal hi am danaf Nag am dani hi ei hun; Pan yn groes hi wenai arnaf, Gan roi cusan ar fy min. Dysgodd imi'r ffordd i gerddcc' Sanctaidd Iwybrau rhin a moes: Dysgodd imi'r ffordd i fyned Ar fy ngliniau wrth y Groes; Er fy mwyn, yn blen*yn eiddil, Gwyliai'n effro ganol nos; Ni fu mam priced yn gynil Ar fy ngruddiau'n planu rhos. Heddyw gweiaf werth ei eheryd(f Pan i'r "aswy" gwyro wnawn; Bwrw mae'r "wialen" bcunydd Gnwd o felus sypiau grawn; Cusan, cnrydd. gwen a chynghor, Yw eanUawiau aur fy oes: Deigryn dwys fy mam yw'r trysor Pennaf feddaf dan fy nghroes. GWELEDYDD.

Cyfieithiad o'r Emyn: "Wrth gono'i riddfanau'n yr ardd." Beholding his grief in the night, His sweat in that garden of prayer, When bruised by the sword of God's might, And furrowed with stripes, the' so fair,— Beholding Him led to the hill, And nailed to the tree, cursed of old,— What tongue evermore can be still? What heart evermore can be cold! EIFION WYN.

YR ESRUTHREN (ROCKET APPARATUS). (Tyddewi, Awst, 1887). Cryf beiriant uthr yw'r Epruthren:—i'r mor Mae'n. taflu tan-belen; Ac wrthi raff hir, a'i phen I longwyr mewn cul angen. Wyt was tirion tosturi,—arbedwr Bywydau rhag boddi: A'r gadwen ti ddewr godi Forwyr llesg o ferw'r Hi'. GWEN. (CydfuddgoL—Tyddewi, 1896.) Mynwesol dyst: mewn sirioldeb-y d'wed laith ddystaw anwyldeb; A hoen foddhaus ni fydd heb Deg wen y diwg wyneb. Tyddewi. BLODIONWY. CYNHAUAF 1903. Go anhywaith Gynhauaf—'903,— Gwynt a thrwst, gwlaw trymaf: Teisi'n bro'n wylo welaf,— Ninau'n wir, beth wnawn, O! Naf! Login. SIMON. A. LEWIS. Y LLEUAD. Hudol, o hyd, yw'r Lleuad dios.—wemp, oer,— Lamp arian y cyfnos, Euraidd hongia i arddangos Niferoedd nef ar rudd nos. Aberporth. AP MYRNACH. YR ANWYDWST. Annwyd dry'n haint enynol,—eiddilwch Ddelwa'r mwyaf nerthol, Yw Anwydwst poenydiol; A cheir nych hir iawn o'i ol. Er ymladd a chur amiwg,—rhodio'n wyw, 'Chred neb eich bod cynddrwg: Gan faich dygn efe a'eh dwg I gol gwely o'u gclwg. GWYDDERIG. Y NOS. Y Nos brudd a sobreiddiodd-ferw celf,— O'r coed y gan beidiodd; A'i chaddug tew, gorchuddiodd Anian glaf, yn ei hun glodd. Llanfyrnach. DAVID JAMES. Lien o wyll, yn llanw allan-drwy y nef, Ydyw'r nos brudd, fudan: Dan nawdd ei glwys adenydd glan Tawel huna teulu Anian. Ffynoncoranau. ASA. E. GEORGE.

Gras am Ras.—Mae y saint yn derbyn gras am ras oddiwrth lesu Grist fel papyr yn der- byn llythyren am lythyren oddiwrth y wasg, neu ddrych yn derbyn gwyneb am wyneb oddi- wrth y ddelw. t v 'I' Y Ser.—"Pa beth yw y ser?" gofynai un yn ddiweddar. Attebai un arall, "Dim end ol penau bysedd Duw ar sidan glas y ffurfafen." (Salm viii. 3.) lk IV 'I' Y Cristion.—Mae y Cristion yn y byd, ond nid o'r byd. Yn y byd fel pererin, ond nid fel dinesydd. Ei breswylfod sydd ar y ddaear, ond .i ymarweddiad sydd fry. Duw yn Oleuni.—Goleuni yw Duw, yr hwn, r yn anweledig ei hunan, sydd yn goleuo pob peth arall gan amiygu ei hunan mewn lliwiau. Ni wel dy lygad y pelydryn, ond dy galon a eimla ei wres.

8 Appetite Slack ? Try H. P. That will make you eat- make you enjoy your food too and digest it. There are plenty of other. sauces-but only one H.P. Costs you no ,more than inferior kinds.

IMPRESSIONS OF PARIS. Pleasures Crammed into a Week of Hustling Sight-Seeing. (By R. W. TROWSDALE.) If I were asked to suggest a hort holiday for a young man possessed of a desire to see something of the world, something, I mean, more than the daily routine of a fashionable or popular seaside resort; if he would broaden his views of life and humanity in general—I would indicate a holiday on the lines I myself undertook in the fall of the year. Many there are of my acquaintance who would be horri- fied, or pretend to be horrified, at the hint even of a week in the capital of France, and of contemplating Continental existence through the mirror of Parisian life. Fortunately there are others who, yearning for that education which travel alone can bring, eagerly avail themselves of the advantages which modern facilities and organised tours have of late years placed within their reach. To those sympathetic readers, and more especially those to whom such a holiday is as yet only a pleasant anticipation (for we of the premier county are decidedly ultra-Conservative), I would address myself, in the hope that this necessarily curtailed and entirely inadequate record may at a future time be of some slight assistance to them. THE ADVANTAGES OF ORGANISED TOURS. My holiday was taken under the auspices of the Polytechnic Touring Association, an or- ganisation world-famous for its social and edu- cational work among the young men and women of the metropolis. To its excellent ar- rangements and the courtesy of its omcials— with especial reference to Mr. Jefferys, Paris representative—I take this opportunity of pay- ing tribute. As each party is personally con- ducted from London, the usual worry attendant on travelling in a strange country is removed. Thanks to the perfect arrangements, a lack of knowledge of the language is no deterrent to your pleasure. Even if you make the joui-ney alone, as I did, there is no reason why you should hold aloof from the spirit of good- fellowship which animates the party. Every- body is on holiday bent, and staid convention offers no bar to tne creation of new friends. But the Polytechnic, in its triple capacity of guide, counsellor, and friend, is a hustling foster-parent. You a.re whisked from cue spot to another with amazing rapidity—for an at tempt to see Paris in a week is like "doing" London in day—and er? you say good-bye to your new-found friends you are as much a "hustler" as the most American of the Yankees of your party. Leaving London in the midst of its ceaseless bustle, you are whirled at express speed to the furthest limit of old England, and embark at Newhaven for Dieppe. The shorter sea passage (via Dover) can be undertaken for a small fee. There is something exhilarating in a voyage by night through strange waters. Many of our gallant company, I fancy, with the scent of the sea air in their nostrils, threw out their chests and inwardly prided themselves on their kinship to the country which laid claim to being mistress of the That exultation. alas! was but short-lived. It preceded a timid sensation which later developed into indis- position of a. serious nature. Then, oblivion! ON FOREIGN SOIL. The scream of the siren awakened us later to a sense of our shame. Dejectedly, though with revived hope at the sight of land, we passed up the gangway in the early dawn into the pre- sence of the Customs omcers, there to prove with open bags and portmanteaux that we had nothing "to declare." Then into the buffet for "cafe eomplet," the national breakfast. So, fortined once more. we took our seats in the incongruous-looking railway carriages. How well we got to know the peculiarities of the train ere we alighted. At the beginning it wasn't so bad, but nearing Paris its "three bumps and a stop" (as one fellow-traveller naively put it) was indubitably impressed upon us. Paris at last! Paris, the city of life and gaiety, palaces and cafes, luxury and poverty, of monuments and treasures which justify its claim to be the first city of the world. Paris, visions of whose decadent glories are handed down in each stately avenue and architectural masterpiece; where at every turn you are con- fronted with reminders of the terrible Paris of the Commune and Revolution. Impressed you must be, both by the inexhaustible charm of the Paris of the present and the Paris of the past. At the Gare St. Lazare we are met by guides and conveyances, and in the interval of wait- ing for the laggards we get our first impression of Parisian everyday life. Not, mark you, that life of gaiety and freedom which has its coun- terpart in no other city in the world; but we caught a glimpse of something similar to a London crowd going forth to its daily labour. One thing that took our immediate fancy was the picturesque costume of the taximeter cab- drivers. Imagine a London cabby attired in a plum coloured livery, supplemented by an eighteenth century headpiece of lacquered tin. It was also our good fortune, later on, to see a lady "cocher"—a recent and novel introduction. Saturday, the day of our arrival, and the fol- lowing day were free from arranged excursions, hence on those days we could follow the dic- tates of our own humour. THE INNOCENTS ABROAD. There is a type of English tourist, fortunately not often met with, who must needs carry with him wherever he goes a spirit of childish thoughtlessness and folly which, in addition to making him the object of general derision, often lands him in serious trouble and even personal danger. The following is a case in point, and proves to what an extent of idiocy even Englishmen may attain. A party of trippers from this side of the Channel were seated in a Paris cafe enjoying the vintage of France, and showed both by action and speech that they thought the Britisher a very superior person indeed, and quite above the ordinary mortaL A \ciy Jiue sentiment, no doubt, taken in moder2ion. Z:ut when it comes to showing the colour of English gold to all and sundry (and there are some queer customers lolling about in French cafes), and rapturously and publicly kissing the Royal image engraved thereon, then it is high time to cut short such tom-foolery. An Englishman and patron of the establishment chanced to stroll in, and his attention was drawn to the noisy crew by the waitress, who thought he might be interested in a group of his own countrymen. He was I just the friend they needed, for he read them a nice little homily on common-sense and the value of discretion in a strange country. THE CHARM OF THE BOULEVARDS. The conclusion of breakfast at the Rue du Colisee saw a small party of us making the delightful river trip to St. Cloud, more famous to most Englishmen, I fear, for its racecourse, than because of its important association with the of France and her emperors. Here it was that the Franco-Prussian war treaty was signed; here also, during the siege of Paris in 1870, the palace was destroyed, either by the Germans, or (owing to a misunderstanding) by the French themselves. St. Cloud itself is delightful. Natural beauty is supplemented by the genius of man. My friend, a keen amateur gardener, fairly revelled in the well- planned beds and terraces of noral wealth which surround the site of the destroyed palace. I no less enjoyed ,the walk through the splendid park, or was one whit the less fascinated by the spell which the whole scene laid upon us. After dinner we go boulevarding—surely the best and cheapest way of enjoying oneself dur- ing the long summer evenings. That is, we sit in one of the "al fresco" cafes and there, sip- ping coffee such as only the French can make, we view the ever-changing scene and never end- ing procession which passes, kaleidoscopieally, before our eyes. In all the world you can never see such a HUMAN, cosmopolitan crowd as that which lends itself to your gaze, say in the Boulevard des Italiens. WHERE GAIETY RUNS RIOT. There are other ways of spending Saturday night in Paris. You can join in the mad riot of the pleasures of Montmartre—at the Bal Tabarin, for instance, where every Saturday evening a scene of unrivalled excitement holds sway—excitement at once delirioua and intoxi- cating. To the Bal Tabarin, the Abbaye The- leme, or the Restaurant de Rabelais, a large proportion of moneyed visitors find their way. Each rendezvous, spite of certain distinguish- ing features, is in one sense the same; every- where the utmost licence prevails. You may do as you like, for certainly nobody interferes with your method of enjoyment There are other places of entertainment again, near to and yet distant from the open life of Paris. Beneath the pavement over which you step are little-knQVfD haunts where wise meI4 like the angels, fear to tread. But knowledge of these night resorts only comes with a prolonged stay in the city, and an appetite for scenes re- volting to sober-minded men. We choose the boulevards, and are content. The glorious weather we left in England still pursues us, and Sunday morning finds Paris the beautiful bathed in sunshine. Sunshine is everywhere; it kisses the tiny wavelets of the Seine as they race towards the sea, it Roods the churches of the city, and reveals their interior beauty, and it transforms the glided dome of the Church of the Invalidea into a shimmering sea of liquid gold. Into the sun- shine we go, and, too late to attend the Eng- lish services (of which there are several), we wonder down to the Mecca of religious France— the Cathedral of Notre Dame. Architecturally and historically interesting, this noble edifice is so unique and imposing in its grandeur that a casual survey fails to aatisfy the student; one could not exhaust its exquisite beauty in a month of continuous inspection. Viewed in brilliant sunshine the magnificent rose win- dow, 44ft. in diameter, cannot fail to arrest the eye. The two towers are 260 feet high, but the spires have never been added. Following lunch, I make a tour of inspec- tion with a Parisian friend through the famous Bois de Boulogne. First of all, however, we mount the steps of the Arc de Triomphe de 1'Etoile—the greatest triumphal arch in the world. The arch took 32 years to build, and on it are inscribed the names of 142 battles, and 656 officers. It witnessed a different sort of triumph in 1871, when 40,000 Germans, headed by their bands, marched under it into the city. From its summit a magnificent view of the principal landmarks of the city is ob- tainable. The open place in which the arch stands is rightly named the Place de 1'Etoile (the Star), for it is the pivot, so to speak, of tv/elve of the finest avenues in Europe—it is. in fact, the centre of modern Paris. Strange, is it not, that France should be indebted for the laying out of the modern portion of its capital to a German engineer—Baron Hauss- mann, the right-hand man of Napoleon III. His reward, a statue, is a vary humble tribute to his great work. THE CONTINENTAL SUNDAY. Even as I gaze upon the scene beneath— where human beings seem like pigmies, and the horses well-grown dogs—I am impressed by the extraordinary life and bustle of Paria on the Sabbath. The general exodus from town is explained by the fact that Paris is off to the races—all Parisians who can afford it go to the races. The residue nock to the "Bois," and promenade therein. Scores of people nhut up their houses on Sunday and spend the entire day in the park. Let us join them. Here you can see Paris at play. Bearded men indulge in pastimes which English schoolboys would scorn; young men and women on the greensward are reaping huge delight from a Continental version of "kiss in the ring." But above all and outstanding in popularity is "Diabolo." France, from M. Ie President downwards, playa Diabulo; and the proficiency attained by youthful exponents of the game of "the devil between two sticks" is astonish- ing. Yet in their way they all seem to be en- joying themselves, and after all, enjoyment k, the spice of life. Let me dedicate a few words to the persons e! of our party. We are truly a cosmopolitan crowd. The number of tourists coUected under the roof of our "pension" totals 50, and among them are to be found representatives of al- most every British dominion over the sea. Australia, New Zealand, and Canada 1,;we sent strong contingents, while from ever corner of the British Isles come tourists to I dlS won- derful city. It ia a jolly crowd, for after the first British coldness wears off, you begin to know and appreciate your fellow travellers. In the evening moat of us find our way to an open-air concert in the lovely Tuileries Gardens to hear Gounod's "Mireille." In these gardens, as in almost every open space in Paris, valu- able statuary lavishly arranged impresses yet another feature inseparable from this world- centre of art. Truly the French are slaves to architecture and art. If the accumulated col- lections are now a national asset, they must have once been bought at heavy cost, and it is questionable whether it was really worth j it. Another thing that struck our English taste as peculiar was the "military slouch." The French conscript slouches along with thumbs tucked into the pockets of his capacious trou- sers, utterly blind to the fact that smartness should be synonymous with military bearing. Yet at Casa Blanca the French troops have maintained their great reputation for bravery. Another lesson our Gallic cousins might take from us is the treatment of dumb animals. The brutality of many of the taxi-drivers to their dumb servants was pitiful, but no one in authority seemed to care. Reckless driving is another characteristic of the Parisian "cabby." WE BEGIN SIGHT SEEING IN EARNEST. Monday saw the real beginning of our "con- ducted" tour, for up to this point we had wan- dered aimlessly around, forming from personal observation our ideas on the manners and habits of the people. After an early breakfast we climb aboard our well-horsed conveyance as the first preliminary to the drive through ,Paris, We drive up the Champs Elysees past the Arc de Triomphe, and turn into the beau- tiful Pare Monceau, one of the most restful and sweetest spots in all the city. The next item of interest—and it has a special appeal to all Englishmen—is a statue to the Stratford bard, William Shakespeare. Each object of in- terest is pointed out by our guide, well versed in the historical and other aspects of monu- .ment and building, and frequent halts are called that we may inspect them more closely. In succession we pass the Church of St. Augustin, the Madeleine (whose interior wit- nessed terrible scenes in the Communist troubles of 1871), the Vendome Column, the Rue de la. Paix (famoua the world over for its jewellers' shops and fashionable dressmaking establishments, and of which cynica say that married men will find it more economical to drive than walk through this street with their wives). Then to the Opera House, through the Grand Boulevards, and eventually to the notor- ious Buttes Chaumont. This natural park was formerly over-run by criminala of the worst type who, occupying long-disused quarries, de- fied the united force of the law. The police wer;) altogether unable to cope with the evil, and the Government had to step in and trans- form these horrible Buttes. Here also were witnessed terrible scenes of carnage during the blood-stained months of 1871. The neighbour- hood is atill the haunt of that latter-day pro- duct of vice and crime, the "Apache," or Paris hooligan, and it ia estimated that even now mur- ders in this locality average nearly a score a week. One had actualy taken place the night preced- ing our visit to this gruesome spot. Yet they choose it to take a photograph of the party! THE MODERN PRODUCT OF VICE. We in England have little conception of the continual menace which threatens peaceable citizens in France owing to these notorious characters. Their audacity knows no limit, and the percentage of crime in Paris directly attri- butable to the Apache bands and individuals is fully one-half. The question has already be- come a national one, and the Government in- tend creating a series of stations along the forti-' ficationa of Paris (i.e., the walls of Paris) in order to co-operate with the police m the eradi- cation of the scourge. From the Buttes we obtain a better view of the Church of the Sacred Heart, a marvellous structure which was commenced 57 years ago, and is not yet completed. The Pere Laehaise cemetery, which we next visit, has, among its 20,000 monuments, one "To the Dead," which bears the reputation of ranking next to the Holy Sepulchre in the number of its visi- tors. It was in this cemetery that the horrors of the Commune reached their limit. Here the Communists made a. great stand, but, en- trapped and outnumbered, they were shot down in droves. Many removed the stones from the vaults and hid therein, but theirs was a frightful end, for the soldiers found out their hiding places—and replaced the stones! (To be Concluded.)

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